On a dark winter day in the summer near the dumpster-divers and sewer rats of West Philly, I stumbled upon a gritty, old homeless man who claimed to be the ill-faded Wyclef Jean (I mean, ill-faded in the most generous way).
Emceegreg: Why, Wyclef... Is that you?
Wyclef Jean: Hell yeah. It's me son. Wanna buy a beat, boy?
Emceegreg: Uh, no. What the hell are you doing? Is that a turd that you're eating?
Wyclef Jean: Hell no, that ain't no turd. That's a steak, son [Clearly a turd]. Hey, aren't you that famous news reporter, Emceegreg? You're like the best Tiny Mix Tapes writer ever.
Emceegreg: I agree. Grant's okay, I guess. Seriously, what are you doing?
Wyclef Jean: I'm a refugee. And I'm on my way to Cali to see my girl Lauryn Hill play a couple special shows.
Emceegreg: Lauryn Hill? Who is that? I vaguely remember. Didn't Devendra Banhart cover that song she had?
Wyclef Jean: Dawg, she was in the Fugees! With me! Remember us? We were huge.
Emceegreg: Oh, now I sort of remember. Didn't Eminem diss her in a song about how she said she didn't like white people?
Wyclef Jean: No, she loves white people. In fact, I heard she's working with Mr. Bright Eyes himself, Conor Oberst, on her long-awaited upcoming album, Khulami Phase. Wait, you listened to Eminem?
Emceegreg: Uh, hey are you homeless now or something?
Wyclef Jean: Man, shit. I'm undercover. I'm looking for some fresh talent to record a new album, possibly cover another Bee Gees song, my son.
Then Pras walked by the two of us in a white sequin suit that read "Ghetto Superstar" and threw a handful of change at Wyclef. Wyclef screamed for him to come back. I walked back to my TMT limo, curling my handlebar mustache deviously. I was in deep thought, pondering how annoying Wyclef was in that damn Shakira song, wondering how Pras remained wealthy, and realizing that I had just banked a 5-star story for a 2-star publication. Score!
Lauryn Hill dates:
06.27.07 - Oakland, CA - Paramount Theater
06.29.07 - Palo, CA - Palomar Starlight
