You heard it first... kids SUCK!!!

Disclaimer: The views of Sumatyme in no way, shape, or form reflect the views of Identity Crisis as a whole. (Even if the shit is the truth and you sensitive motherfuckers can't handle it. Choke on it you fascist asses!)

For those new to these humble entries, this is the part of the show where John goes on a random rant. So for those who bruise easy (and suck), please feel free to surf elsewhere. You will be missed. ('Cause I have no friends.)

Seriously though kids (ages 16-22), may I have your attention? Of course I can't. That would take away from whatever social network you're updating. We don't give a crap about the size of the new deuce you just dropped. Don't get it twisted. Freedom of the internet has led to some amazing ideas meeting the light of day. But fuck good people! I have to draw the line at Rebecca Black's bowel movement of her new hit song "Friday."

36 million of you had nothing better to do but watch some over-indulged rich kid crash and burn on her pop dreams?!? (My better half included.) The irony of it is that by sucking royally, she is now more famous than artists who have been at it longer and are infinitely more talented (and I'm not even including IDC in that lament).

And for the sake of the generation after - because let's face it guys, you already blew it - PLEASE bring back proper English. If I catch one more Cali kid cutting words in half (e.g. "Man, this shit is redic!"), I swear I will start sterilizing every child I meet. It's not cool or cute. It makes you sound like you should have been on the short bus.

Now I can hear you already. "John, you're just old. You're out of touch." Well maybe, but I still know basic grammar, assholes.

And the skinny jeans. Oh fellas, the skinny jeans. Dammit that shit makes y'all look like extras from the Legend of Zelda with the big shoes and tights. Camel toe is for old ladies. This shit is like corsets for dudes. And ladies? You're not helping. If your guy wants to borrow your jeans, have the courage to stand up and say No!!! You bought those jeans to shape your ass, not his.

Well that ought to just about do it. Children, if I may leave you with one more thought: Just because your parents suck at life, that doesn't mean you have to one-up them. Oh yeah, and eat your vegetables... bitch.

Summers out.

We submit for your approval...

"They" say do what you love and you never work a day in your life. Well, "they" can fuck off!!!

Okay, that feels better. Hello again, true believers. (Paul, Justin, Jess, Desiree, what's up!?!) It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you, but fate usually has other ideas.

So it's the 2nd week of March. Now's as good a time as any to start the 2011 edition of Chronicles of a Broke Rapper. (Yes, I am fully on CPT time.) To bring you up to speed, it only took three months to break just about all of my New Year's resolutions. The album is behind schedule, which means shows are a no-go. You don't really wanna set up a gig with no merchandise.

However, emo bullshit aside, musically the group is knocking shit out of the Milky Way. I'm back among the gainfully employed and I'm beginning to feel like Sumatyme from the days of old.

Hip-hop has even taken a turn away from the manic Bieber-fever that seems to have swept over our top MCs. (Yes, Kanye and Raekwon, I'm looking at you... respectfully, of course.)

The City of Angels has been very eye-opening for your resident lyricist. The amount of talent in my neighborhood on any given day is staggering. Which is balanced out nicely by the fact that most of the people out here act like the blind leading the half-retarded. It's all champagne and caviar until the bill shows. But my goal for the year is to keep my rhymes up, head down, heart open, and coffers full. Between us, I still don't really fit in anywhere. (You would think that after 28 years, I'd be used to it.) But artists here are falling all over themselves to stand out so I suppose we can put that one in the "win" column as well.

I'm chipping away at my personal issues. With the help of my better half, I feel like I'm catching on to the roles of the game of life. While I still have the skills of a top procrastinator, being a stranger in a foreign land has truly helped me be honest with my shortcomings. One thing I've envied about my brother from another is that X has always been able to transfer anything that's going on in his head on to wax. Seven years later and many songs behind me, being truly open has never been a strong suit of mine. On a personal level, I feel this (combined with an unhealthy dose of self-sabotage) is keeping me from being the artist I know I can be.

So, my friends, we are going all the way back to basics. I'm stripping my artistic self down to the bare bones and rebuilding, prize fighter style. The new motto is "from the underground up" and we are going to start with this offering. Thanks for sticking with us.

Peace.