Dipset Detox with Michael McDonald at Epcot Center (pt 2)

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HEY! So anyway, sorry for not writing sooner. Evidently, Michael McDonald's strategy for rehabilitating me from my debilitating Dipset Addiction entails a level of partying to which my liver & I have found ourselves unequal. Consequently, I've been too ill for the internet til now.

Ok. One might reasonably wonder: of all the potential people to rehabilitate oneself with, why Michael McDonald? Wouldn't it be better to go to a credentialed doctor like Bill Frist or Dr Phil? Well, you no doubt already know Michael McDonald as a singer with a voice like a Wookie that's died and gone to Valhalla (ie, if Valhalla were a place where all the cars were flying drop tops and where Neon & Silicon are present in abundances by which Mendeleev would be deeply perturbed (kind of like Miami(I'm gonna post a Dipset mpfree that will evoke in your mind just the kind of Valhalla-Miami that I'm trying to convey (I know I shouldn't do this because it's Dipset, but what kind of audioblogger would I be if I bypassed the opportunity to post such an apt mpfree!(Don't tell Mike please!)))))
Jim Jones - Summer with Miami

This next track, "Yah Mo B There", a collabo with Quiet Storm-trooper James Ingram, illustrates the awesomeness of Mike's voice, and how truly ahead of his time he was. This song, which is about the Man Upstairs, owes its slightly cryptic title to the fact that Mike & James felt that the music industry wouldn't accept a song with such explicit religious content. The music industry responded by awarding Mike & James a Grammy for Best R&B Vocal Performance with a Duo or Group, which just shows how pathbreaking an artist Mike really is, playing the religious persecution card long before Kanye or the Family Research Council.
James Ingram ft Michael McDonald - Yah Mo B There

So, yeah, for one thing, Mike's got a great voice. Also, in the community of Google-cheaters, Mike's quite a big kahuna. He looms large in the pantheon of personal heroes for me, and I really wanted to make a favorable impression on him. Knowing my eagerness to make him to like me, I figured he'd make an effective therapist.

Oh, also you may wonder: Why Epcot? Well you doubtlessly already know about all the awesome animatronic entertainers here at the Epcot Center. Well, you probably are unaware that Disney has developed a new line of prototypical autonomous animatronic beings. Eventually Disney intends to infiltrate and take over society with an army of animatrons, but for the time being, they are using the animatrons to fill many of the concessions, security, and Disney-character-imitating jobs here at Epcot. Which is sweet, because Mike knows some really bitching Google cheats that work like Jedi mind tricks on these animatrons, so we get free rides and lots of other free stuff here.

As soon as we get to Epcot, Mike tells me he knows a super secret Disney imagineers' party that he can cheat us into, and rushes off in its direction without asking me if I want to go. Which I don't mind at all. Mike does some cool secret Google moves that are too fast me to even see, and we get into the party.

So we get there and there's this wierd dude who I think is an animatronic robot with a fake Ronald Reagan head doing a wierd crystal ball show. I made a movie of it for you. (click the picture below). Combined with the disorientation I felt from transinterinternet travel, this performance frightened me deeply, but I pretended it didn't because I didn't want Michael McDonald to think I was a pussy.


So as soon as we get there, Mike starts chugging fluorescently colored grain-alcohol mixed drinks. I didn't want him to think I was a lightweight, so I start trying to chug them too. Drinking these drinks is deceptively easy, because the grain alcohol doesn't taste like anything when mixed with fruit punch. In fact the space-aged flavors of the mixers were probably the grossest aspect of drinking the drinks. Eventually I got really drunk. Between that and the Dipset DTs (DTs stands for Delirium Tremens), I was pretty defunct for the rest of the party, even when the DJ put on an awesome Lil Jon Kraftwerk/Planet Rock-style remix of an R & B cover of a Cyndi Lauper song, which would normally have me hoppin like a jackrabbit.
INOJ & Thrill da Playa - Time after time (Lil Jon remix)

But actually it was OK, because all the Disney imagineers were dancing all wierd, and I would have felt uncomfortable trying to dance my dances around them:

Mike wasn't dancing. He was like, "My niggas don't dance, we just pull up our pants..." which isn't funny at all but I laughed just to ingratiate myself to him.