The first recipient of TCP’s Hustler of The Week goes to The Bubbas Barbikyu http://www.thebubbas.com The Bubbas are a husband and wife team, who have taken a Filipino family marinate recipe for pork and chicken shishkabobs and added a bit of a twist that distinguishes The Bubbas from anything ever tasted before!! The Bubbas do not have a restaurant…yet. These hustlers run this business on the weekends, (on top of their regular 9-5 work week) in Englishtown, NJ, acquiring new fans every time they light up the BBQ. Check out this video for a day in the life of The Bubbas!

Look, let’s get to the bottom of this. I am guilty of something. Bubbas, I am down with Lady Gaga. Don’t look at this blog with that tone mista!!!!!!!!!!! I’m coming clean because I have to babies. I downloader that “Bad Romance” and I am listening to it so much one could call it a soft addiction. That little ditty has more hooks than a fishing supply shop. Pure, sinister, pop bliss. All them songs have a swagger and ballsyness, yet delicate song structure and melody. She is a songstress my friend. Sweet genato bubbas!!!!

You know what I like best about her babies? I don’t feel she really excists. She is constantly in different costume. She goes by a nickname, even when not in costume she looks like she’s from another planet. Hell she might have a mountain peeking through the valley ( a penis). No one knows!!!!!!!! She is a damned mystery babies. And that is what is so great. Everyone pretends to be real. “Take me for who I am,” is what alot of these “sincere” people scream. If one brags about being real they are usually as phony as Eazy E’s gold tooth (rip). Gaga is phony. And that’s what makes her sincere. She never pretends to be who she is, because she probably doesn’t know who the hell she is. And neither do any of us. I’m supposedly a nice dude. Full of respect and kindness for others. At the same time I have done hideously shallow acts to people that is inexcusable. So am I good or bad? The answer me buckos……… I am a work in progress. Whore, hellion, saint and preacher all in one. Like the Verve said “I’m a million different people from one day to the next.” Gaga embraces that ethos and damn it bubbas she entertains us while doing so. Ladies and gentlemen that is an artist. And may I add a “real” artist. There is no limitation to her, because she plays by her own rules. I bet she fills out her taxes with glitter and/or goat blood. Not because she’s trying to be different, but because “why not?” Why can’t she? Why must we play by rules? Life is just a fantasy anyway.

Enjoy the ride babies. Figure yourself out while you go because there’s no rules to life. The party can end tonight, or last forever. Don’t be a slave to the same note. This party has a soundtrack. That soundtrack is jazz. It’s gonna keep changing, keep up or shut up. That’s the buzz babies, that’s the gottdamn dream!!!! Long live mystery and long live the lady. I hope she keeps us shaking our heads, blushing and smiling constantly. And I hope she keeps herself doing all three. Viva Gaga wooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(look I still listen to Sabbath so calm down captain, wooowooooowooooooo!!!!!)

Look, I shave every two days. I know you were losing sleep over that issue but now you can rest. WOOOOO!!!! Friday and Saturday I shave both days. Why? Those are usually the biggest gigs of the week, and after years of looking like a homeless cop I want to look cooler than a cucumber in a bowl of hot sauce. Also I am in my 30’s baby. My window for getting girls in the WB demographic (18-24) is closing like a GM factory. I have to look smooth bubbas mcgubbas. I thought it was on Saturday. Shaved clean as a whistle. Rocking a vintage Motely Crue “Too FAst For Love” shirt. Designer jeans. Fresh two week old haircut ( that’s when they really kick ass). Fedora on head that made me look like De Niro in “Meanstreets.” I was ready to go out and catch it …….or so I thought. Under my lip I found two intruders to the hunt for skirt. That’s right COLD SORES. Anti-wooooooo!!!! Bubbas anti-woooooo!!!!! No bueno, carnal.

I think of cold sores as karma’s scarlett letter for being a tramp. You might be able to rock the stage. But those little fellas under the lip will keep you from scoring like they were the ‘85′ Bears defense. Your charm might say to the girl “Let’s go !!!” But the sores scream “Hell no!!!!”

The Sneaky Little Culprites

Saturday I enjoyed my gigs more than usual. Because I couldn’t worry about man-whoring. I worried about the craft. YES!! That’s what I needed to remember. And all it took to remember was a couple of nasty herps on the lip. That’s all it took to balance me out brutha. I wasn’t supposse to hook up that night. But I was supossed to have a fun night entertaining snow scared people in New York. I must accept that. And I do bubbas. I’ll go beyond that. I accept it and embrace it. That was a dope night and I’m proud of it. They’ll be skirt some other night. And if there isn’t? Well it was a hellava ride. That’s the buzz!!!!!!! That’s the gott damn life babies!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WOOOOOOOWOOOOOOOWOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now I have to go put make up on so I can try and catch some friendly fire in Brooklyn tonight. Snippitty snappity!!…!!