I’ve made it clear, through my advocacy of Hip Hop health care, that I believe entertainers, or more specifically-rap cats, go largely ignored in the “needs help” department. By that I mean, their “job” doesn’t provide them with even minimal health care, yet they generally make way more money than what’s required to fall under the poverty line. (Insert joke about any of your favorite bum rapper here.) Therefore, any
cocaine-induced nose bleeds or schizophrenic episodes are left to the care of the sufferer. [Sidenote: That's actually why so many people are flat-out, literally homeless. The "sick," if left to their own devices, will eventually filter themselves out. A more advanced form of natural selection, I guess. Anyhoo, on with the show.] Nonetheless, there’s no reason why fame would not drive a person insane. After all; just because someone has a talent doesn’t necessarily mean they’re calling for the world to watch their parlor trick. & vice versa; just because you are a have a parlor trick, doesn’t automatically mean that it’s worthy of an audience. Regardless, mental health, as hilarious & entertaining as it seems to be to Hollywood, is no joke. (Ha. No pun intended, literally! That came naturally. Yes hetero.)
The most recent victim to either a) show the beginning stages of PTSD, or b) stop giving a rat’s nipple about his career altogether is Houston, TX wrapper© Paul Wall (y’all). Earlier this week, Paul had a brawl with a fan at the Low Low Car Show in San Antonio, Texas. (Video here.) Actually, not so much a brawl, as much as it was Paul Wall 3pc’ing some crazy fanboy with the microphone that he just finished rapping on. I wouldn’t be surprised if it still smelled like the jewelry cleaner that he (undoubtedly) brushes his teeth with everyday. & actually, it wasn’t so much a “fanboy” either, but rather some drunken hate monger who’s liquid courage encouraged him to flip Paul, & all of his
big, Black, ex-football playing ass security the finger. Possibly fearing for their jobs (what with this recession & Paul Wall performing at car shows & all), security briefly allowed Paul to retaliate to the man’s inebriated disrespect. With phallic, metallic fury. Upon receiving the aforementioned 3pc., peace was restored, & the injured, anonymous “victim” remains anonymous (& injured, I’m sure). Because, really though, why else taunt a relatively famous rapper in public, if not to kick start your own 15 minutes of shame? & not for nothing, but you ain’t shit if you can’t out-snooki Snooki in any given Situation.
I’ll even one-up the scenario…
Paul Wall seems to have a pretty decent life, compared to no one in particular. Just by face value alone, he has more to lose than most people will stand to gain in their lifetime. Theoretically speaking, of course. If he were a dumb artist per se, he would’ve lost his monies long ago, to feed babies, backmonkies©, loan sharks, whatever. But, no dice. Paul even being featured at a venue, in this fickle Hip Hop macrocosm, is definitely indicative to the security he has achieved. However, it takes one to know one, & Paul Wall can’t sell bullshit to a matador, if you smell my cologne. In other words, I believe that, had security not intervened, Paul probably would fucked dude’s next couple of years up, just to get a rep. The fact that he was ballsy enough to do it is worth at least some street credit points in the suburbs. So, it’s not like he went home empty-handed.
See, I’ve had many, many, many middle fingers aimed at me. & not once did I feel a need to pick up a weapon. If I ever feel the need to defend myself against insinuations, I’m a yeast infection of a man. On top of that, it’s to a point now where the famous are being replaced by the nameless. Celebrities follow the blogs, the twitter, & they know these things, like everybody else. The same way Middlefinger Man saw Paul as a chance to see his name in lights, so to speak, believe Paul Wall saw the same. The difference, though, is that the lights he sees are the lights still on in the living room, while his family eats the meal(s) he provides. (2 points if you followed me through that one.) So, the moral is: fellas, the next time you’re out with some potential ‘tang, & the Adios MF’s got you smelling you armpits a little, don’t bother people. That type shit will not only get your lunch eaten, but you just might eff around & be a ‘Net sensation off of an unnecessary asswhipping. (<-is that an oxymoron?) Nowadays, one just never knows.
& obviously, that applies to famous people, as well.