GIMP MY RIDE

I always admired that show Pimp My Ride, but as a fucking asshole, I am offended by its fake-ass Robin Hood shit where Xzibit shows up at a sunny $700K bungalow in North Hollywood where some pimply college kid has parked his 1986 AMC Eagle. 22 minutes later, it's a goddamn hydro lab UFO with 26 DVD players, licorice seatbelts, and a stick shift that telescopes to a 32" bong. For the same reason, I detest the methhead carpenter with the sob story/renovation show on Sundays. Those jerks should like build some mental health facilities for the raving homeless who spend blazing L.A. afternoons berating the storefronts on Pico.

Regardless, PMR is cool anyway and Xzibit is awesome but if MTV Productions wants to do some actual good, why not retool the show to have X surprise a fucking car-less loser at their regular bus stop of misery under the angry, punishing sun and just take them to work once. It'd be titled Give Me A Goddamn Ride and I would star in the pilot, in which X and I would stop off for fish tacos, rollerskate around Venice, and get ice cream cones before I roll out of his car onto the sidewalk in front of my work.

Like the actual Pimp My Ride, the heart of the GMAGR is alleviating deep suffering and shame. That's righteous. Likewise, Decibel found a dude who applied this principle to nerds who love Nuclear Assault: by adding funky, honky-enervating rappers to the equation (above). NAssault is the shameful, boner-blocking '76 Ford Grenada (white brougham) but Dre and Snoop are the regulation-sized ping pong table and Marshall stack that unfold from it.