Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

RTH: King of All Media!

September 13, 2010

What some of you may not know…

Is that, since as far back as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be on the radio. I love the idea of it. I like the intimacy. I like that my voice sounds cool when recorded. I like the idea of playing songs and having people bop around to them.

Yep, ol’ RTH has¬†always wanted to be a D.J.

So, when my buddy Dom (aka “Maverick”, the father of my nephew Nicholas) expressed interest in doing a PodCast, I said “Sure!”

(with the caveat that I got to focus on the marketing, promotion, and content side while he did all the techie crap that makes me go “Ehh, I’ll just write it down.”

But! True to his word, Dom got us all PodCastable, and yesterday afternoon we knocked out our first show. It’s 27 1/2 minutes of irreverence, entertainment, and us fulfilling our Funkmaster Stern daydreams.


So, without further ado, here is the link to the show:

You can stream it or download it. It’s the perfect companion to a train ride home, or to be entertained at work, or a nice alternative to morning radio drivel or afternoon drive repetitive playlists.

Thanks for checking it out.

Also… You can follow us/leave show ideas at, or e-mail

The show is its infancy, and you–YES YOU–can be a part of it!


Yeah, so…

July 12, 2010

Stupid job won’t let me post anything substantial. Plus, my computers at home are all wonky, frustratingly so.


As soon as I get those issues resolved I’ll be back on. Lots to talk about.


Rey…and Bol?

May 26, 2010

RTH + @ByronCrawford =

Ol’ Rey drops a post on the infamous BCC.

Check it on out.


I know, I know…

January 12, 2010’s been a while.

Don’t worry, I’m just dealing with some computer issues at home. When I get up and running, I will be back and better than ever.

In the meantime, masturbate. It’ll make you feel good.


To Write Love On Her Arms Day

November 13, 2009


Another Time When It’s Actually Quite Serious

Okay, so I’m new to this whole thing, but I heard about To Write Love On Her Arms on Facebook and I knew instantly that I wanted to participate. The site/organization’s goal is to raise awareness of Depression, Self-Mutilation (cutting & the like), and Suicide. The idea is that you write love on your arm (as evidenced above–yes, that’s my arm and I wrote that about 30 minutes ago) and, when someone asks you what you mean, you tell them about the site/organization.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Depression is real. Sheeit, I will always be closer to depressed than I am towards happy. That doesn’t mean that I walk around constantly sad or hopeless every day, but it happens. However. I’m one of the lucky ones that can be knocked down by this particular foe, but still have the ability to have my spirits uplifted by amazing friends and family.

Unfortunately, not everyone is that lucky–as evidenced by this part of the site. My best friend, a beautiful girl, is bipolar with an emphasis on depression. She’s been depressed for about 4 or 5 years, and has been on meds and in online support groups for suicidal thoughts for the last year and change. She came close–frighteningly close–to fading into the black completely. Thankfully, the bipolar swung around, and her condition has improved, and for the first time in a long time, she can feel the same emotions that we all take for granted–love, friendship, happiness.

And that’s the fuckery fucker of the whole thing. Sure, there are meds and shit out there that are supposed to “treat” depression, but they don’t fucking treat depression. They numb and they mask and they turn beautiful people, with friends and family, into a series of Pod Persons. I wish I was kidding. My BFF, someone who I love more than I’ll ever be able to explain, was that kind of Pod Person. She was there, physically, but she wasn’t there.

The worst part was that I am an extremely affectionate person. I love telling people that I love them. I love making huge, grandiose expressions of my love and gratitude for the people in my life. It might not always shine thru on this site, but one of the things I will always be happy about is my ability to drag people back from the brink, to get them to believe that they are worth believing in. So, plainly put, it was a living fucking hell to know that all my speechifyin’ and songwriting and blog writing and the fact that I am Mr. 25/8, didn’t mean a thing because her illness wouldn’t allow the good to get to her.


So we come full circle, and I wrote LOVE on my arm. I wrote it for my best friend. I wrote it for myself. I wrote it for the other people that have been robbed of their ability to love and to laugh. I wrote it for the friends of those people, friends like me who are paralyzed and petrified that one day the disease might win and steal someone away for good.

And most importantly, I wrote it for the people who lost the battle. I can only hope that there is more After All This, and that you are in a place where you can smile, and love, and laugh, and enjoy the warm sun on your face.

The ink on my arm will wash off. The mark you left on our hearts and souls will never be forgotten.

I love you, Peggy. I’m glad you’re better.



November 1, 2009

Is this thing on? Gooood.

New IATS coming soon.



July 23, 2009

Yep, another one. Gonna work on an album, work out some personal shit.

As always, I’ll be back after a few weeks with some new material, and if I’m inspired I won’t hesitate to come back and hit off my 4 loyal readers with new stuff.

Thanks, and I hope the rest of your summer is awesome.


RTH LiveJournal: The 2009 BET Awards

June 28, 2009

Dr. Beardhussein Diagnoses Black Entertainment Television’s WrestleMania.


Archie–WTF, MAN??

May 28, 2009

I completely disagree with this decision:

Memorial Day Ranting

May 25, 2009

I think I know what the problem is.

The problem is that, despite the reputation I have–that I fear change and live in the past–I’m really not afraid of much. Oh sure, I’m afraid of dying and I’m afraid of someone I love being hurt and I’m afraid that I’ll never see a Knicks or Mets world championship, but that’s about it.

The fact is that, aside from those things, I’m unafraid of virtually everything else. Yeah, sure, I don’t necessarily WANT to go thru great pain or suffering or horrible emotional trauma, but if I’ve earned the right to say anything over the years–over this last miserable decade–I’ve earned the right to say that when it comes to horrible emotional trauma, I’m not afraid of it.

I’ve been thru it before. I’ve been thru worse, and I’ll go thru worse.

I’m not afraid of putting myself out there, putting my heart on my sleeve and saying, “Hey, this is me.”

I’ve never gone thru an extended period of “Finding myself” (pause). I’ve never walked around going, “I’m So Confused!”–I mean, shit, maybe when I was 21 and stuff was brand the F new, but…

…shit is just NOT brand new anymore! Seriously!

At this stage of the game, we’ve all had someone rip our hearts out and wipe their asses with them. At this stage of the game, we’ve all had friends fuck us up by making it obviously clear that they prefer their lives without us as a part of them. At this stage of the game, we’ve all had embarrassing losses and crushing losses and have all felt 2 inches tall, only to follow up the Shrinking with a heaping dose of self-admonishment along these lines:

“I can’t believe I put myself in that position again.”


Ya know what tho’? I keep putting myself in that position, the position to lose. Shit, I’ve lost before, and I’ll lose again.

The thing is, kids, is that I’ve got a 2 Guard mentality (not sure what a 2 Guard is? Here ya go: I do. The 2 Guard has to score points. You can’t score points if you don’t shoot, and guess what?

It doesn’t matter if you’ve missed 10 shots in a row. You have to score points to win the game, and you can’t let a miss make you go, “Ya know what? I’m just gonna give up. It hurts my feelings when I lose.” NO! You can’t say that! When you’re a 2 Guard, when you have that 2 guard mentality, you only have one thought.

When you have that state of mind that is set on being happy, of making your life what you want it to be–no more settling, no more being held at the mercy of an evil brain who short-circuited sometime around the first George W. Bush term, you only have one thought.

You only have one conclusion, one way to win, one way to live the life that, dangit, you fuckin’ deserve to live.

You square up your shoulders, you look at the basket, and you fire away…

…because the next one is always going in, no matter how many you may have missed before.


Man up, Woman up, whatever you have to do.

I’m ready for my victory.