Monday, April 19, 2010

H is for H.B.I.C.



The H rocks 40" cables, eating black label, My chain hang down to my dick my piece bang glass tables...

Mobb Deep- Quiet Storm


Aw man homie. This blogging shit is not a game. You knew it was inevitable. Shirts, hats, plaques, signs, belt buckles, carpets, rings, pendants, tattoos, name changes, etc. This was no accident. Heading back from Opening Day, THE YANKEES WIN!! THE YAAAAAAANKEES WIN!!, I came across the H on diamonds. It just so happened to be directly behind the BX12 bus stop (see the reflection). Had time to kill so I'm peeping the jewels. You know, the same old bullshit- gaudy iced out watches, Jesus pieces, a variety of chains, some G-Shocks, rings, bracelets and so on. Sandwiched between a bodega and 99 cent store. I wouldn't call it high-end.



Huh? What? An H piece? For real? In all my years of truck jewelry window shopping I can't recall seeing that H. H-ayzeus, but no H. Ya dig? Speaking of which, the H was sitting between a script J and a Jesus piece. J for Judas maybe? I'm not even trying to get biblical. No higher meaning necessary. What cat sold this back to this place? H-ector, H-orhay. I'm thinking it was a Spanish dude. Just a H-unch. How many bags of H-eron were sold to furnish that piece? Doesn't matter, the blood has already been washed. At least that's what I'll think to remove the guilt once I purchase the fucking thing. I was in front of the store again Sunday following yet another Yankees victory. But you already knew that. The intentions of inquiring about the price were there, but the bus came, and with Sunday MTA schedules I didn't want to risk it. I'll be back shortly. Turns out there's an African restaurant I want to hit several blocks south on Jerome Ave. so we might 1-2 punch it.



When dealing with baby princess cut diamonds in a platinum setting I can't just throw any H fitted out there. We need some majestic shit. I believe the above cap fits the bill and then some. Baby H-ippo skin dyed in teal extracts from the H-imalyan H-ighlands. I know, this shit sounds crazy, but I couldn't even make this up if I tried. I don't even know how this bad boy made it through customs. Baby hippo poaching is illegal. It's sad.



Found this in the mail about a month ago after a h-omegirl from the West Side looked out for the kid. Another Hall of Fame "Mighty H" creation. The Zeus-like lightning bolt, backyard speak with thunder... Peep the detail. Very soft to the touch, as baby hippos are. The stitch- hand done by master tailors in H-ollywood. The attention to detail is unparalleled.





Not just looking fly, but feeling good. Words of encouragement on the dome piece. By laws of osmosis the idea that 2nd Place Sucks will permeate into the membrane. I can't lose with this one.



Silk lining? Indeed. Thai silkworms working hard for the kid.

3 comments:

Carmina said...

Those are useful tips, really informative. Thanks for sharing. Great post!

Evangelina said...

It won't succeed as a matter of fact, that's exactly what I think.

Host Pay Per Head said...

Another great design for a hat. I would like to have one of those. Give aways will be great.