The hip-hop world is a less than sensible place -lots of times, you're even required to clarify when bad means bad and when bad means good- so once a week we're going to get with a rapper and ask them to explain things. Have something you always wanted to ask a rapper? Email it to introducingliston@gmail.com.

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This Week's Rapper: Praphecy (left) of 2 Man Army

This Week's Subject(s): Ironic rap tours; Journey

Ask A Rapper: We saw this little news blurb about Kool Keith coming out back and tour and realized: Lately a bunch of (God, we hate using this term) "old school" rappers have been announcing upcoming tours. Doesn't this seem lame to you? We don't know, something just doesn't seem right about that situation.

Praphecy: Personally, I beg to differ. I feel that it's healthy and even more relevant in this day and age for the older generation of MCs to go out there and inform the new generation of their history. You can't know where you're going unless you know where the art form is derived from.

2 Man Army, "M.U.M.D."

AAR: What is the appropriate amount of time before someone can partake in an exploitative tour? Like, can Nelly do one of those yet? Or has he not been unimportant long enough for a tour headlined by him to be ironic enough?

P: I'd say ten years out of the game, give or take.

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​Dear Rum, Sodomy & the Lash,

Who wrote the book of love?

Dear Monotones,

I'm going to make me a big sharp axe, shining steel-tempered in the fire. I'll chop you down like an old dead tree. Dirty old town, dirty old town.More >>

​Rocks Off has seen some strange stuff in our time, but this ranks pretty high up there. Evidently, a routing error caused several emails intended for longtime syndicated advice columnist Dear Abby to wind up in the inbox of costumed SoCal rap-rockers Hollywood Undead, who appear at Verizon Wireless Theater tonight with Atreyu, Escape the Fate and the Sleeping. Hilarity ensued; those responsible have, of course, been sacked.

Dear Abby,

My husband and I have always had a warm and close relationship with our college-age children. We often host their friends in our home, making certain they're comfortable, well-fed and welcome.

My son brought his girlfriend home for long weekends several times this year. Not once has she said thank you for meals, gifts or entertainment. When I asked her if the standing rib roast I had served was OK - it's my specialty - she said it wasn't cooked the way she likes it.

She shows absolutely no interest in us, our home or the community in which our children grew up. She does offer to clear the table, but that's the extent of it. Upon leaving, she will say, "thanks." With the exception of one brief e-mail, we have never received a written note from her.

We love our son, and he may love her. But we're not eager to clean, shop for, cook and host this young lady again. If our son wants to bring her home for another holiday, what do you suggest we say or do?

Dear DIS,

Wake up, grab beer, grab rear. Shave beard, put on some scene gear. Gotta get drunk before my mom wakes up, break up with my girlfriend so I can bang sluts. I'm undead, unfed, been sleeping on bunk beds since ten. So if I don't booze it, I'm gonna lose it. Everybody get to it, do it, get ruined.

Let's get this party started, let's keep them 40's poppin'. So just get buzzed and stay fucked up, we'll keep them panties droppin'.

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​Back in Rocks Off's younger, less enlightened days, when we enjoyed polluting Houston's atmosphere, draining the Earth's dwindling petroleum resources and talking or texting while changing lanes like millions of our fellow Houstonians - in other words, back when we were driving - we listened to a lot of sports-talk radio. (What, like we were going to listen to the Buzz?)More >>

​Dear Full-Custom Gospel Sounds,

I am a multiplatinum rap artist and producer who has won several Grammy awards. You'd think this would be enough to satisfy me, but I am unable to allow other people to enjoy their time in the spotlight - I have often interrupted acceptance speeches, ranted and raved backstage about awards I didn't win and other such behavior. Is this plain old narcissism, am I seeking attention because I lost my mother last year or am I just an asshole?

Dear CIC,
I got a sweet baby who's six foot tall, But she's a full grown woman who's got it all Big little baby, big little baby, She's as cute as she can be, but she's taller than me. Big, big, big little baby, big, big, big little baby.

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Dear The Essential John Anderson,

​Should you ask a girl out if she likes you but you are not sure if you like her? This chick is hot I guess, but her husband just died and she seemed to be kind of a prude for an older broad. I met her at the old folks' home that I work at, the day I smothered...I mean when her husband peacefully passed into God's lovely walls of soulful salvation. I didn't kill her husband, I swear.

Dear BPD91,

Here's a glass of Chablis, some quarters and change. Maybe you can turn her love life around. Then she won't need the salt or the lime anymore, to shoot that old memory down. Just remember her heart's on the mend, if you ever come back to see her again. Don't ask her on a straight tequila night. She'll start thinkin' about him, and then she's ready to fight. Blames her broken heart on every man in sight, on a straight tequila night.

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​Rocks Off enjoys reading The New York Times on Sundays. It's one of the few things in our topsy-turvy lives we can count on. However, several stories in this past Sunday's paper gave us serious cause for concern. The best way to help these people, we figured, was to take their problems to Georgia rockers Collective Soul - who play House of Blues tonight with Kentucky hair farmers Black Stone Cherry - and look for answers on the grunge-pop group's 2001 anthology 7even Year Itch.

Dear Collective Soul,

I am the president of a war-torn former Soviet republic. I cannot reveal any more than that because all summer long, my country's streets have been rocked by sniper fire, machine guns, exploding vehicles and suicide bombers. Those seeking to bring peace or publicity to our plight are often kidnapped from their homes and summarily executed, yet our supposed allies in Europe, Moscow and even Washington have turned a cold shoulder, if not outright aided those who seek to destroy us. I live in constant fear for the safety of myself and my family. What should I do?

Dear CIC,

Love is in the water, love is in the air. Show me where to go, tell me will love be there (love be there)? Teach me how to speak, teach me how to share. Teach me where to go, tell me will love be there (love be there)? Oh, heaven let your light shine down.

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This is the first in a series of blogs where readers ask major albums by artists passing through Houston for advice in love, money and other quandaries related to the human condition. Email your questions to craig.hlavaty@houstonpress.com or chris.gray@houstonpress.com. Today, we turn to Heart's greatest-hits collection, The Essential Heart.

​Dear The Essential Heart,

My husband and I are thinking about quitting our jobs and becoming cat breeders. See, we have about six felines ourselves we just adore the little guys and gals. We are both in our late forties and have never had any children on account of him being accidentally sterilized in a hunting accident some years back. Cats have become our main love, our "children" as it were. We would like to keep spreading joy, namely in the form of these adorable kitties that we have been blessed with. How should we go about starting a cat farm?

KittyMama89More >>