There are long absenses from my blog, and then this...

It's amazing what people in their hubris will do. Or what they think they can do. At points in their lives Don Johnson, Eddie Murphy, and David Hasselhoff have put out albums. Paris Hilton has one in the works. Who greenlights this shit anyway?

That's right kids, america's least favorite person-who's-famous-for-being-famous since Kato Kaelin, Kevin Federline, has put out an album. A rap album. If the glowing praise from his talentless and significantly less hot than everyone gives her credit for wife, isn't enough to make you want to sign him to your label, well...I don't know what is.

From listening to him wax idiotic on the various types of latina ass he wants to see, to the usual bitches, blunts, and 40s fare typical of the genre, K-Fed manages to stay awash in a sea of lyrical submediocrity typically reserved for the last half of a VH1 awesomely bad show. That however, isn't even the worst part. The guy can't rap. Even some of the best producers out there can't make it look like this guy can keep time. Couple that with a voice that reminds you of a crustachioed, pre-pubescent 13 year old, and you've got the potential for the biggest flop since Gigli. At this point William Hung has sold more albums than Mr. Spears.

But don't take my word for it, you can sample the worst excuse for music since Soy Bomb here.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to put on my Hasselhoff: Live from Frankfurt! on and attempt to forget I know Federline is trying his hand at life, much less music.