Worshipper: "Jesus is like Campbell soup - he's GOOOOOOOOOOOOOD" (DEAD)
Jaysus has delivered The Blacks through 400 years of slavery. That part on the side of Nelson Mandela's head. And several seasons of Lester's teeth on 227. Yet this, THIS, is how you thank him? THIS is how we're bringing in the new year???
Exasperated sigh with Charlie Brown frustration eyes.
Though I too have felt the need to hit a mean halleleujah shoulder hunch after a particularly delectable bowl of chicken soup with Spongebob-shaped noodles, I've managed to keep my jubilance contained.
Not this heavenly soldier!
The worst part is not her reference to "carrot soup" - something I think Bugs Bunny tried to cook on a cartoon at some point ...
It's not the inherent mystery presented by her jiggling marsupial pouch threatening to steal the show ...
Nor is it the ivory glory of those lips, so chicly powdered with the finest in Entemann's donuts...
No. THE WORST PART is that I'm not entirely sure what she's communicating - is she trying to say De Lawd is good? I mean, I can't make heads or tails of it. She needs to be more direct, maybe try repeating herself and adding some of that sing songy preaching The Blacks like to do. Praise dancers might also help...
Campbell's soup has been notified. A spokesperson failed to see the humor in any of this.
Oh and this guy was pissed off too, but you know he's ALWAYS feelin' some type of way...
Just know that seafood restaurants take their tank lobsters VERY seriously. Now, let us never speak of this again.
In my absence, I understand that the world has been changing. Jordans are back! Kobe's a hoe! Beyonce is to bear a Christ Child!
And apparently Mean Joe Green is back and working the reality show circuit under the alias "Chrissy Lampkin!" (I know it's you boo, those log-haulin' shoulders ain't foolin' NOBODAY!)
In between delousing myself and readjusting to "home food," I've been catching up on Love and Hip Hop. And I must say, were it not for the soothing baritone of Jim Jones mama Nancy Jones (accompanied by the Love Unlimited Orchestra), I would scarcely be able to get through an episode without hurling my Arthur Treacher's fish nugget platter at the screen.
The reason: I. HATE. CHRISSY.
Chrissy Lampkin reminds me of something you set large traps for.
Chrissy Lampkin looks like something you find in the back of your freezer and aren't sure what it is.
Chrissy Lampkin looks like something you and your kids ride to soccer practice.
Chrissy Lampkin is shaped like a bag full of George Foreman grills.
In sum:
I unequivocably do NOT fug with that beerback, trapezoid-bodied, bowl weaved, Willie Hutch lookin' strong bodied batch!
And get that mighty mole removed whore!
Here's the case against Chrissy/Christopher:
She's a batch without a cause:I'm all for bitchery. But this hoe is just an ass for the sake of being an ass. I declare I've watched that episode of her summarily mollywoppin' Kimbella again and again and I'm gonna state this plainly: I DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHY KIMBELLA WAS WRONG. Consider this - had Kimbella NOT said anything, it would've came out later and that werewolf lookin' whore would've been howling over how Kimbella "Sat up in your party eatin' your chitlins and shit knowing she was playing tilt-a-whirl on your man's thang!" So homie went ahead and said something. And what happened? She got run over by Truck Turner. Emily claimed she was over Fab, so from where I stand, this was the perfect time for Kimbella to casually mention playing tonsil golf with her baby's father. Just slip that on in between munches of rib and keep in movin' ok?? What the problem is?
Whatever your opinion of the appropriateness of the timing, one can't deny: The conflict was not Chrissy's. I know that as a bonafide WWE champion, batch likes to keep her craft fresh. But there's no reason to charge helpless women (Ok, Kimbella's gender remains under review, but work with me here).
Batch is shaped like a stackable washer dryer: No, that's not really any type of logical reason for my undying hatred of Chrissy Lampkin, but it makes sense to me. I am SICK SICK SICK of seeing that Tasmanian Devil-shaped trapezoid of a "woman" in close ups, particularly when s/he's wrapped in those Starburst colored bandage dresses she keeps diggin' out of her "Get It Girl 2002" trunk. While I fully understand it must be difficult to find garments to accommodate the sundry angles and sharp turns of her gridiron body, my corneas deserve so much more!
Batch is shady: Chrissy got two faces and both of them look like Jim Jones. One minute she's readin' Kimbella. The next she's side eyein' Emily. And she stays with an overall energy of disapproval. Wanna know what I disapprove of? THAT PORTABELLO MUSHROOM CAP PERCHED ABOVE HER LIP. There is absolutely no way I wouldn't come for that thang (is it a parasitic twin? a facial piercing gone wrong?? The Northern Star??) every muthaeffin' time that tank of a "woman" said something sideways to me. *with tissue in hand* "Chrissy you have something on your face, let me get that for you" game proper!
And the final reason why I hate the hell out of Chrissy Lampkin's plow pullin' ass:
Batch don't work anywhere, but stay judgin'!: Emily is a fake stylist. Olivia is a fake musician and possibly some type of wizard judging from the hook on her nose. Hell, even Kimbella's pumpkin-faced ass is clearly campaigning for empress of the lollipop kids (with her racially ambiguous, Tang-colored ass...). But to this DAY I have zero concept of what in all high holy fugs Chrissy Lampkin does for a living besides being a loudmouth and possibly a bodyguard. Yet she's callin' Kimbella a hoe. Let's see - she busts it open for money right? Andddd what does Chrissy do? Yep - THE SAME THING. At least Kimbella has a baby. Chrissy Lampkin's defensive linebacker lookin' ass ain't got nuthin' but a wagon hitched to Pigpen- who ain't even givin' her so much as a ring pop this decade, BTW.
Oop. Let me know how that works out for you boo!
Now let's be clear: I DO believe Kimbella is in fact stupid. If for no reason other than she should've knocked that wide-bodied SUV lookin' batch in the head with a sock full of batteries and cha cha slid into the sunset about three episodes back. Annnd I tend to believe Emily is also stupid, if only for her clear vulnerability to the suggestive powers of Fabolous' slanty ass teeth (Oh shut up, you too were wonderin' why she was checkin' on his last millenium ass...).
But this Chrissy broad? I just can't take her ass. No literally - her ass is horrible. I can't take it.
Now that I have your attention, ready yourself as you may - though nothing in this lifetime could prepare you for the glorious dewdrops of fugnuggets preparing to burst forth unto your screen.
Is it me or does Jim Jones' mom sound like an old pipe organ? She speaks=me turning to page 147 of my hymnal and singing Standing On the Promises.
Study Notes:
10) Is there anyone, ANYONE, who believes that Miss Chi-Cheekela La Boom, or "Kimbella" as she's currently known on Spring Street, is an XX? Girl hush. Night night, keep your tucks tight!
MC Hammer Searching for Income with New Search Engine
Damned if I didn't dream I was doing the typewriter across what remains of Ginuwine's career last night! That's the last time I watch "Life After: Light Skint Lovers Edition" before bed! Apparently MC Hammer, or Hammer, or Customer Service Agent #202 - whatever he's calling himself these days - is comin' at Google's neck.
From Media Bistro (which ain't shit for that picture, btw...)
Seriously. At first we thought Mashable been taken in by an article from The Onion, but this is really happening. MC Hammer introduced his new search engine, called WIREDoo, at the Web 2.0 Summit in San Francisco. The search engine will provide things that Google doesn’t, including what Hammer calls “deep search" a term applied both to search engine results and Hammer's career efforts over the past decade. And we don’t know what that is, but it sounds hot.
First Deion Sanders is shaming the race in all white erythang shilling DirecTV. Now Stanley's trying to bargain basement Google his way to the top.
This is a cross clutchin', standing on the promises week if I've ever seen one.
PS: I absolutely refuse to fug with MediaBistro behind this end quote:
"Now if Salt-N-Pepa would just launch a social networking site, my week would be complete."
Quietly, I hear those sisters are making some powerful moves in the shapewear industry. If you like Spanx, you'll love "Stuff Its"...
Anywho, while you were laughing at Hammer - and why not, the status of that jackal peen rat tail perched in his kitchen could launch a thousand evenings of keecackling easy - you overlooked an important fact: it was HIS WIFE, not Stanley, who was responsible for more of his fashion misgivings! Mmmhmm - the more ya know!
It's true because VH1 told me so on that hilarious MC Hammer bio movie a few years back. Stanley was happy living a lifestyle of tater tots, Oakland A's groupie hood and jiggin' for jaysus (with an occasional James Brown impression in the club for good measure) when his wife decided she wanted more than pork and beans burning on the grill.
She grabbed a throw pillow and her Singer, stitched up some droopy crotched pants and a generation of fashion fuggery was born.
It's truly a story of someone's reach exceeding their grasp; had the sister just been satisfied with his humble dreams, Stanley could have been a respectable Steve Harvey suit salesman and she could be dining on Skillet Sensations in a two-bedroom split level. Instead, she's cleaning up after 18 kids while Stanley struggles for relevance.
Yet every single time I consider forgiving MC Hammer for his transgressions (capes; the Pizza Head dude; countless sins against shoulder pads and velvet shoes over which Teddy Riley still weeps; abuse of Let's Jam gel and assorted other hair products) I recall the terror he unleashed upon us in the form of the "Can't Touch This" generation. And by that, I mean fuckshit like this:
Were you too busy being high/knocked up/imprisoned/one of Rick James' bottom-rung hoes to attend your prom? I know your pain - I was at Bodrow's Mac and Stack Shack (a combo salon and barbecued ribbery...)getting my stack curls together and damned if I didn't miss my ride to "Midnight Love: Let Me Ride That Donkey C/O 88!"
Oh the pain I have lived with!
Well rejoice dear readers - a new event will fill the void:
X Factor's Siameze Floyd Shopping Reality Show (Scroll down for preview of life...)
If you’re unfamiliar with the shimmering sex vornado of kitten heels, man cleavage and Lotta Body Wrap Spray that is Siameze Floyd (copyright 2011) consider your life empty indeed.
In case you missed it, gather your emotions, squeeze your legs together and prepare as the DJ brangs it back:
This burgeoning intersex icon took the world by storm on X Factor a few weeks back, simulatenously challenging batches everywhere to step up their unicorn/horsey kick game, while representing the Little People, Big World: Talent Division’s global debut (child hush, you were wondering about the proportions on that head too.)
What you didn’t know: Siameze Floyd was apparently raised by a harem of Rick James’ old backup hoes and is descendant from a line of “men” (shifty eyes) whose hair is laid like a canister of refrigerated leftover relaxer (you’ve done it bitch, don’t lie) and whose sexuality is more ambiguous than Nivea’s career.
Now that’s DEEP.
Oh, and did I mention that this polyamorous family which clearly shares hair products across gender lines is also hoping to share its story with the world via a reality tv show?? Feast your eyes on the preview prize and click it for Jaysus:
YES. GAWD. THAT is what’s for dinner! Can you even BEGIN to imagine the type of capoeira-style hand to hand combat that erupts when the Pink Oil Moisturizer sheen spray supply dips low in that household???!!! Chile bye - I bet that's how the other three wives died...
I for one say the time is absolutely right for this show - this is a civil rights issue dear readers!
For too long Prince as been forced to carry the load of being a spokesperson for the intersex community on his petite shoulders alone. He’s had some notable help in more recent years:
()
Not to mention a couple of older gwerls:
Yet the community has remained largely underground, reliant on the occasional awards show or backup singer appearances (I see you Norwood...) to affirm their existence. And we won’t even begin to get into the trials these delicate rosebuds have suffered trying to obtain extra schmedium nuthugger jeans with adequate elasticity - another time, another place.
The production of this show would truly be a victory for the community. If you love me dear readers, call, text, email and provide sexual favors to anyone at VH1 to ensure that this spectacle of niggatry makes it to the tube.
Trial of Michael Jackson doctor Conrad Murray Begins (Oh and herpes accusations are in the mix...)
Michael Jackson's personal pubic hair stylist took the stand Wednesday (a side part for all seasons...) - TMZ
In case you haven't been keeping up - and really, what could POSSIBLY take precedence over waiting with baited breath to capture a glimpse of Jermaine Jackson in all his leathern-faced glory - the trial of Dr. Conrad Murray has begun.
This is the former doctor of Michael Jackson who killed him dead suffered some difficulty saving the Great White One resulting in him currently being deader than a mofo. TMZ is on the case, and if you thought some fuckery would result from this trial you were absolutely correct.
The defense has already begun insinuating The Great White Hope killed himself, Jermaine is already shilling books dressed as a goth nutcracker, our friend above is sitting on the stand lookin' like an extra from Harlem Nights and oh yes, Jermaine's hair is looking like this:
Oh - and it's being implied that Michael Jackson either had herpes or some type of addiction to a potentially fatal creme of cocaine. Or possibly both.
Williams said after he learned of Michael's death, Murray came up to him and said there was "some cream Michael wouldn't want the world to know about." Murray asked him to drive him to the home so he could retrieve the "cream."
Mmmmhmmm. Look directly at it. Take it all in. Let it work on ya.
If you haven't the strength to read this post without an orderly to hold you upright or a rocking chair with arms suitable for clinging, then just read this money quote and know in your heart that worse was yet to come:
From NY Post:
“My music is a format that will encourage you to have a song you won’t forget. That’s why I got so much money, that there are so many people around, and that’s why I am in court. Millions of dollars!” Stone says. “But now please tell everybody, please, to give me a job, play my music. I’m tired of all this s--t, man.”
Lil Mama (or Lil Lhama if you're nasty) Has New Music Out!
End times children, end times.
This is one of those moments in which I feel so thoroughly conflicted as a celebrity shade blogger.
On the one claw, I feel like I SHOULD inform you that this is happening - and by "this" I mean Lil Mama and her continued insistence on a career.
And yet, on the other claw, I really don't want to be responsible for your trip to The Upper Room should you be foolish enough to press play and commit visual sin in your heart (since you will almost certainly succumb to the overwhelming allure of Lil Lama in 42 Dollar Bin wigs and drowned puppy-like breastlets - drowned puppies being among the saddest things on earth...)
I'm not ready to make such decisions, so I'll just lay the cyanide pills on your dresser and walk out quietly, "what your girl don't know what hurt her" style.
Note to Willow Smith: This child is already up for an in-utero grammy. Be afraid. Be very afraid.
Let Countdown to Camel Calf 2012 officially begin!!!! (I’m already hawking commemorative camel paw-printed Beyonce pregnant pictures...)
I,like you dear reader(s?), sat semi-rapt in the VMA music awards last night, wondering why Queen Creole High Kicker picked this occasion to give a random fashion tribute to the Temptations.
And then it happened – the moment that destroyed the careers of Fantasia Barrino AND Mariah Carey's spawn:
Beyonce unbuttoned her David Ruffin couture blazer to reveal the distinct in-utero hump of an even-toed ungulate. That’s right: BABY CAMEL IS HAPPENING!!!!!!
*Jay Z releases a powerful nay heard 'round the world*
SHITCRAP, Md. (FNN) - The Hostile Negress escaped uninjured Tuesday after The Earth, a skew-eyed moldy femme queen of the tiredest variety, attempted to shake her like a Polaroid picture, authorities said.
Reached by the Fuggery News Network, The Hostile Negress said that Earth "has been trying me for decades" and promised that "this clear attempt on my life will be avenged batch.
"It's not my fault your weave is asymmetric. Proper, honorable weaves are available to all Americans. You've made your hairline choices. Trying to Harlem-shake a sista to death is pointless!"
Police: Lesbian couple argued before dildo domestic violence (doves crying)
When I tell you nights like this I wish raindrops would fall...
First of all, Georgia folks, you can relax: This is some bonafide Florida Fuggery, so you're off the hook this time. Second of all, Popeye's I need you to screen your employees better! If this sister is laying her Ike Turner smack down with the silicon sausage, I have some SERIOUS questions about what she might be doing with the extra crispy drums.
Black woman arrested following YouTube tutorial botched circumcision attempt (CTRL-ALT-DEL life...)
You mad? Yeah, YOU MAD!
If you've been paying attention to life then you know that behind Wikipedia, YouTube tutorials are THEE go-to reference for getting all of your important life lessons - you know, how to recreate a Beyonce Video Phone lip or learn how to drive a car or deliver a baby.
Hell, I was scheduled to use YouTube to perform an emergency vocal chord removal on Rihanna just last week, before I fug around and dropped my best butter knife behind the stove! (THIS LIFE!!!!)
Well word on the skreet is that you apparently want to go ahead and pass on the circumcision YouTube-torials. Mmmhmm - something about man-meat not being amenable to being snipped with safety scissors and a dab of Icy Hot (to dull the pain). Who knew!
Watch: Alabama Deacon Stabs Music Minister Who Tased Pastor (Black people ain't got nobody but Jaysus!)
WARNING: Prepare to weep copiously at this video. If you have an old rugged cross, it is advised you cling to it tightly. I, meanwhile, will be preparing to trip off to the Upper Room, having had about all I can take of The Blacks this lifetime.
Apparently an Alabama church turned into a scene from Basketball Wives (and no, bruh with the parasitic twin growing out of his forehead was NOT there - shut up, you've wondered about that door knob on his head too batch!) after the minister of music was summarily told to take a seat - in some other church's pew.
Now why can't we all get along in the house of The Kang? New Birth's resident crew, Thef Heavenly Pussed Holy Rollin' Honeys - annointed boo-gina game proper! - would never shed blood in the main chapel, no matter how succulent Pastor Eddie Long is!
Christopher "Kid" Reid Arrested, Video Link (and sadness sammich) Inside
FREE THE IRRIDESCENT ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Jaysus be a cozy tanning bed and a gang of Banana Boat extra bronze, sun-baked goodness tanning oil.
Apparently Powder / The Ghost of Rap Careers Past / Batman villain "Hyperwhite" /Christopher "Kid" Reid, of Kid-n-Play fame (involuntary bowel movement - pardon me) has gone the route so well beaten by the likes of Tupac, Ja Rule, DMX, Gucci Mane (and lips), T.I. etc. -- HE'S ALL UP IN THE JAILY JAIL!!!
Video: Watch Patti LaBelle Stir It Up with Chaka Khan, Whitney Houston, Maya Angelou, Whitney Houston and friends (Spoiler: No wigs were tilted...)
Who knew that the pre-eminent divas of negress womanhood all gathered at Patti LaBelle’s chamber of sequins for marmalade, heel kicking and other random voulez-vous shenanigans? And more importantly:
Where the fug were the invites for me and Ciara?
We invested in copious Beyonce weave and had our Adam’s apples shaved down in advance and we get nada – no ribs, no Glory green goodness? Patti Labelle if only you knew: Brother CiCi ain’t happy. I would invest in a shield if I were you – her femurs are long and her back is country strong!
Take note batch!
Fortunately, the entire soiree was memorialized on YouTube for us nonfactors to bask in the glory of their golden weaved excellence digitally – Beyonce, Diana Ross, Mariah Carey, Aretha Franklin, Chaka Khan, Rihanna, Janet Jackson, Whitney Houston (Nippy if you’re nasty- THN) all are there spilling tea, swinging ponytails and taking names.
Phenomenal woman ( ?) Maya Angelou even spits a verse in Nipsy Russel register – GLORY!
Sadly, The Braxtons were left out on the porch holding Halloween pails and wondering how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie pop – you know, the norm for their Saturday evening. (If only they would repent of their wet and wavy weave sins they too could be welcomed into the kabal…)
Hit play, clutch the hem of His garment and prepare to let the shade blow your hair back!
(Spoiler: Favorite quotes would be a tie between “You look like you ate Eve AND Adam’s apples” and “Hakuna Matada bitch!”)
While I've been over here brainstorming on gifts appropriate for a woman's 74th baby (I got you Lauryn, trust) C(oon)N(ews)N(etwork) has sneaked out another riveting examination of the lifestyles of Kunta's cousins!
This time it's provocatively titled "Can I touch it?" and it has absolutely nothing to do with Jermaine Jackson or his Braille-inspired cheeks.
Rather it's an examination of why certain people insist on touching black women's natural hair.
It opens with the recounting of a "close call" (Heather reaches out to touch afro puff, Shawnte pulls out numchuks, police intervene) and goes on to talk about how many black women have thrown their boxes of Optimum to the wind and are instead letting their natural whodunits out to play:
Rather than use chemical straighteners known as relaxers (also sometimes called "creamy crack" for both the damage it can do to black hair as well as the inability of some women to live without it) YOU TRIED THAT - Love, THN some women wear their hair in its natural state.
Natural hair can be described as curly, kinky, wavy, or -- the sometimes dreaded and considered by some to be an offensive word -- nappy. FURTHER CHEST CLUTCH - Love, THN
The story goes on to discuss how the act of trying to touch a black woman's hair is inherently racist.
As usual, the Children of the Sun are clearly confused. There's no racism here - rather, this is our white brethren and sistren performing a standard weave check. Sure it's nappy - but is it yourn? Given E Badu's lengthy record of manipulating beard trimmings, pubes and dryer lint into mountains of faux 'fro, can you really blame The Whites for being confused about whether your naps are your own? Kelly wasn't trying to embarrass you Bookika - she was just keepin' things authentic!
Thank you Whites!
As a card carrying owner of Team Busted Combs, I haven't ever had the pleasure of being petted. If I were, however, I like to think I wouldn't consider it so much a moment of cultural dissonance as a fiscal opportunity.
Because you will NAUGHT lovingly caress my naps for free!
Anyways, I'd like to take a moment to thank CNN for it's continued efforts at telling the story of the Children of the Sun. Whether it's informing us that natural hair has indeed come into style (Who knew?!) or confirming that black women remain the most unattractive option for marriage (Phew, I was worried our status might be threatened given the Mexican influx...) CNN remains on top of negro news. Thanks for lettin' us know CNN!
PS: Click the video and have your soul rocked by the Dark and Lovely glory of that Shalamar-era whoop-de-swoop in Honey Glazed Gold - MY SOULLLLLLL!!!!
There are those among us who would have you believe that New Orleans and yay, the entire 18th century sugar plantation state known as Louisiana is not full of nuclear level fuggery unfolding faster than you can say newborn with gold fronts and a tattoo.
There are those of us who will remain unnamed - and by that I mean Autumn! - who would try to convince us that the specter of booty poppin' shenanigans no longer hangs over the Crescent City, that indeed, only respectable negroes of an advanced "I Shop At Target, NOT Walmart" calibur live therein.
Those people - and I do mean you, Autumn! - are full of lies, sweet tea and beignets!
Stare into the black hole of fuggery that is Big Freesia and her booty bounce of despair. Does this NOT look recent? I entreat you to click and click often. Don't look away. This is the state of Louisiana. These folks need care packages and prayer.
I know in my heart my dear unnamed friend (Autumn!) is somewhere poppin' her glutes to this and getting misty eyed. It may be too late for her, but I'm gonna send up some prayers anyway (I stay prayed up, btw)
I would like to add this: If Louisiana continues to export this flim flammery to the remainder of the nation, we'll be forced to expel them. You see what happened to Mississippi.
How yummy are those vocals??? Patti, Mariah, Alecia, et. al: Have several rows of seats! Ratchet, Ga. is hummin' comin' at cha!
We'll temporarily set aside all questions about this manboy's neutral gender (because I'm certainly gettin' 1997-era TraxxGirls tea all over this...) AND overlook the apparent mystery of whose daughter is pelvic rotating for Jaysus all up and thru this piece...
ANNND ignore questions of when somebody, anybody, will step in to prevent the further YouTube abuse of drop clothes...
ANNNNND hold off all queries about whether boo rockin' the sideways peacock spray pony (I see you Richmond!) is actually paid to watch this child....
And instead move on to the more pressing question:
*No Zamundans were harmed in the filming of these videos!*
You know it has to be serious if I risked my life gnawing through twine and busting out of the the cage in which Chris Brown has held me for the past three weeks (custom constructed from Rihanna’s hair and bones, respectively) to bring you this post.
But this, dear readers, is serious. I am a soldier in the war against ratchetery and I will go down fighting before I allow the forces of banjiness to destroy this beautiful planet!
From weave to shining weave!!!
With that, I bring you this - some type of Africanized Soulja Boy hybrid that features congos, Muslim robes and a heavy dose of Jaysus tears.
Naija Boy up in this hoe ... watch me shake my ass like so.”
You know, YouTube has been a repeat offender and corporal in the Elite Coonery Squadron for at least four years but this ... wait, I hear my cell phone. Hello.
Who is this? It’s who? The ancestors calling from the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean? What are you saying - wait calm down, calm down stop yelling!! Ok, got it.
Kunta and them said they did NOT endure the Middle Passage for you and Matumbe to be posted up on an ‘88 Honda talm’ ‘bout Zulu-mannin’ that hoe while your cousin breakbacks it to congos in the background!
Shaka is going to fug. you. up.
So for those of you who aren’t aware, apparently Naija is a cutesy term for Nigerian which is a cutesy term for ratchet charlatan who will try to get you to wire them $5,000 to help them secure the future of their kingdom.
Yup, I’m that batch. Bring it on Naija Boyz!
In addition to cooking up some of the most HEELARIOUS direct-to-DVD Nigerian movies you could ever hope to see (don’t act like you haven’t scanned the back cover of “Ajila’s Choice” while gnawing on a goat nugget at the African swap meet...) apparently Naijas also enjoy remaking videos of the American hood variety.
I could go on about the trials and tribulations of Nigerian music, but the power of grayskull won’t let me. So I’ll just post the videos and let you sift through your emotions.
Tissues are in the drawer.
*Warning: These Naija videos include several disturbing images of Motherland hoodery.
Naija Girls (Proof that the horrors of $50 sew ins have indeed hit the Motherland)
I'm not going to sit here and lie to you: I've been fascinated by the banginess of African pop culture for at least a century. More than once The African Channel's soap operas have left me posted up on a couch for hours on end, determined to figure out if Mnuembe really DID get it on with Onyeka after the Naija Boyz concert in Lagos!
If you've got a hankering for more ratchetry, and let's face it, you're ignorant so you definitely do, check out NaijaTube and prepare for uncontrollable weeping and kee kees. In that order.
Before you ask, no, I will NOT be explaining how I got my hands on such a flyer.
My vadge = my biz!
Just know that if you're in ATL, and you're a practicer of Sapphic Arts, steer clear of XS Ultra Lounge this Friday. Ain't no telling what kind of 1994 vortex you could be sucked into - what with Da Brat being so summarily irresistable!
I don't know about you, but I slithered out of my period draws the INSTANT I saw that tarantula eyelash affect! Girl you be killin' em with the baby pink Kangol action!
In all seriousness - since such ratchet foolniggary is really tearing the community apart - I'm going to ask you to join hands with me and send up a prayer that all future "comebacks" be limited to people who
a) Had viable careers in the immediate proceeding 10 years
and
b) Have opted to embrace clothing from the current century.
Female Bank Robber to Teller: I've got The AIDS! Gimme your coins!
Is this what we're doing to keep our Serenity overnight pad game tight Barb? Really?
Is this really what armed robbery has come to?
Let me start out by saying to any of you who have even the slightest intention of using the old "I got AIDS bitch!" routine to shake a sista down for her extra packets of deliriously tasty McDonald's limited edition sweet chili nugget sauce: Think Thee Fuck AGAIN!
I already got more diseases than a cheap hotel toilet seat in Calcutta - your HIV would immediately be chewed up, swallowed and summarily shat out in the fom of sugar cubes faster than you can say "platinum jawbones by Coco and Ice T!"
And with that said, I'd like to also preface this with a halleleujah little child - the negreaux are NOT involved with this!
(Naturally the negreaux would threaten a bank teller with something far more menacing - ie. a direct promise to send all of their ratchet cousins over to fill out bank loan apps and generally fuck up everybody's life for the next 24 hours.)
A woman robbed a Colorado bank by passing a note saying she would infect a teller with AIDS if the clerk didn't hand over money, police said on Friday.
Jeff Satur, spokesman for the Longmont, Colorado police department, said detectives are searching for a pale woman between the ages of 55 and 75 with a "boney build."
What kind of description is that? A boney batch between the ages of 55 and 75? Batch that could be Heidi Klum, Linda Evangelista - hell, if she slapped you with a phone it could be Naomi Campbell (only if her hairline reminded you of a depleted rainforest of course.)
More:
"She indicated she had AIDS and would give it to a teller if she didn't cooperate," (officials) said.
The woman coughed frequently into a blue bandana during the robbery, and fled with an undisclosed amount of cash, police said.
Girl that didn't work at the line in Safeway and it won't work in a bank!
You know what, in hindsight, I'm not sure why I would ever have thought the blacks could be involved with this. After all, this person threatened to give a bank teller AIDS by coughing on them = fail. A black teller would have been unmoved by anything other than a threat to run her credit. Now THAT might have resulted in the immediate emptying of the vault, handing over of bank cards and any spare funds from the wet and wavy weave fund on hand.
White coonery is really on the come up!
I will say this much: Given as I keep finding myself sitting next to people smelling like doo doo balls (Suge Knight of Busboys and Poets, I am calling you to. the. mat.) I may need to invest in my own blue bandanna and perfect a Pookie-esque New Jack City-type drawl.
For the cause (of my nostrils).
PS: To the bank robber and Senor Doo Doo Balls:
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Va Inmate Sues for Sex Change Surgery (After man meat home removal fails…)
I thought Esther Rolle was gone on to glory????
Jaysus be a powerful sedative. I urge you to have a seat in a rocking chair with arms suitable for clutching. I would offer you my old rugged cross, but I’m busy clinging to it.
Ready your eyes for this riveting tale (wonderfully executed by my former co-worker – REAL TALK!) of mistaken man meat, prison razors and RuPaul aspirations.
Full disclosure: As an alternative woman (birth name: Kwame Kwaku Jenkins-Harris IV) I can completely relate to gender dysphoria and this story. I have no words to express the frustration I have felt with being constantly refered to as “sir” and being denied my rightful title in the NFL hall of fame as the second woman to play for the Giants (Wendy Williams being the first.)
DILLWYN, Va. – Crouched in her cell, Ophelia De'lonta hoped three green disposable razors from the prison commissary would give her what the Virginia Department of Corrections will not — a sex change.
Interjection: I absolutely dare you to read further!
It had been several years since she had felt the urges, but she had been fighting them for weeks. But like numerous other times, she failed to get rid of what she calls "that thing" between her legs, the last evidence she was born a male.
Months after the October castration attempt, De'lonta filed a federal lawsuit Friday claiming the state has failed its duty to provide adequate medical care because it won't give her the operation. If she loses, she says she will continue to try self-surgery — acknowledging another attempt could kill her.
Bless the heart of this missionary in the fight against unwanted peens. We all have to start somewhere; I hear even Jermaine Jackson began his journey to abstract facial glory with putty knives and alcohol. Girl, you better chop that lumber off and get your vagina power on!
While many with gender identity disorder wish to get rid of their genitals, the majority never act — often because hormones and other treatments help make them feel more comfortable, (one expert) said. (Translation: Duct tape changes thangs! I’m a believer!)
Inmate: State-sponsored Male to Female Gender Reassignment = My American Right Boo!
The hormones and other treatments had kept her urges in check for years. She snapped Oct. 8 when an officer used a male pronoun toward her, despite a court order that prison workers refer to her as a woman.
"I screamed `She, damnit!' becoming so overwhelmed it was hard to breathe," De'lonta said.
YAAAAAAASSSS! Do you have ANY idea how many times this exact same shat has happened to me? My sloping brow, Anthony Weineresque jawline (I know you see it – I’m certain that praying mantis lookin’ ninja can husk the hell out of some corn…) and coifed goatee are NO EXCUSE for you to refer to me as anything but a delicate evening blossom of feminine exuberance. I had to turn a Bob’s Big Boy OUT after a cashier refered to me as Sir. When I tell you French fries and quick weaves were scattered! I can’t go to the state of Missouri anymore, but it was all worth it in the fight for acceptance of alternative women, such as myself, Omarosa and now, De’lonta!
*joins paw-like, square hands with other alternative women*
By God as my witness, you will NOT deny our vaginas their seat at the table!!!
Using knowledge gained from mail-order anatomy books (Another Nikki Minaj secret revealed…) De'lonta cut on and off for three hours before she passed out. It took 21 stitches to repair the damage.
De'lonta first tried to cut herself when she was 12. By 17, she was robbing banks with the hopes of getting enough money to have a sex change operation.
I get the thinking behind this – after all, I understand it’s exactly what led to Remy Ma’s life of crime. But there are more productive methods, you know, like launching a blockbuster music career, hosting a talk show or getting on the reality TV carousel, to fund your switch.
My enrollment in the alt-woman relocation program won’t allow me to reveal who I know to have followed that path. So I’ll just look directly at Wendy Williams and let you make the conclusions…
White supremacist KKK protests anti-gay Westboro Baptist church
I would go ahead and apologize for my semi-delayed holiday absence, but I was getting my cooch relined – and the glorious temptation of having a wall-to-wall angora fur-lined snatch overcame my greater blogging sensibilities. I’m sure you understand.
Anyway, I was rattled from my post-cooch revamp rest when I learned from CNBC that stocks of coonery (NYSE: COON) had risen this week on news that The Whites have yet AGAIN staged a clear push for dominance of the foolywang antics market:
Hours before President Barack Obama led the nation's Memorial Day observances at the Tomb of the Unknowns, three Westboro Church protestors were challenged by others who disagreed with them -- including members claiming to be from the Ku Klux Klan.
"It's the soldier that fought and died and gave them that right to free speech," said Dennis LaBonte, the self-described "Imperial Wizard" of the KKK group that he said he formed several years ago.
You'd better solja boy tell'em Grand Klud! I see your white robe swag!
Abigail Phelps, the daughter of Westboro Baptist Church founder Fred Phelps said "They have no moral authority on anything.
"People like them say it's white power ... white supremacy," Phelps said. "The Bible doesn't say anywhere that it's an abomination to be born of a certain gender or race."
For those of you who are unfamiliar with Westboro Church protests and their overall brand of the crazies, Westboro Baptist Church in Kansas is comprised of a group of cornfed West Virginia-type Hackfield/McKoy whaggers (white naggers) who should probably be somewhere brewing up some corn liquor but instead occupy most of their days railing about The Queers and jaysus’ masterplan to kill them off by sending them to war. Or something – my ability to hear fuggery is really starting to dim.
Westboro Baptist Church protests are fairly legendary in the media world – they send block letter, all cap press releases to newspapers pretty much daily and generally sprinkle their crazy dust for weeks before they show up in your town.
Now THAT is what I call PR!
The KKK today, meanwhile, has faded. Membership has sank as The Republicans have gained more of a foothold as the premiere trendy social group of choice among the elite racist cracker set.
*sigh* Those crackers can be so fickle. I feel your pain KKK, really, I do. But let’s face it: You haven’t had a decent klan rally since my beloved Chaka Khan had a waistline. The klan robe is boxy and that A-line shape is unflattering. Westboro Baptist Church protests, meanwhile, are all-the-way turnt up and their commitment to truck stop fashion is legendary.
Step your game up Ku Klux Klan!
Honestly seeing this kind of split in the longstanding hateocracy movement is saddening. Ku Klux Klan says hate the naggers. Westboro Baptist Church says hate the queers.
I say: Why not just hate the queer naggers and call it a day? Done and done.
But the real question here is why can’t The Whites let The Blacks be great? For years they’ve had everything – money, dogs, sushi – and The Blacks have maintained their own fiefdom, dominating the lucrative professional basketball, malt liquor and foolywang fraganackle bullshat markets (icons include honored unicoon Marion Barry – but you already knew that…)
Now The Whites want to take coonery too! Where is Al Sharpton – this has to be stopped!
300 lbs + Beyonce Run The World video choreography = Damn life.
This is the type of shat that happens when you don't have a prayin' grandmother.
I blame Beyonce for every last bit of this.
Oh, and malfunctioning Gold N Hot flat irons - because that withered bob has my uterus in FULL TILT.
I was just in the midst of being completely unproductive when The Twitter informed me that a ratchet queen was somewhere in Birmingham shaking and jiggling it for jaysus to Beyonce's Run The World.
Against my better judgment, I clicked and was instantly taken to the bridge by the sensuous body rolls of the one I will henceforth refer to as Creole Jumbo.
After I broke free from the instant hypnosis triggered by his undulating manbreasts (Rick Ross, you have been dethroned boo. You might as well put a tube top on and pay it.) I was able to really get into what was happening, in particular, the unsolved mystery of those giblets jangling in Ms. Jumbo's ladypurse region.
We won't get into why this was filmed at Guantanamo. I haven't the time nor the investigative resources.
Body rolls at 2:53. Frantic riverdance stomping at 3:09. Death of 5,000 in 57.0 magnitude earth quake anticipated in 10 minutes.
“I’m not no career politician and I ain’t gonna act like no career politician”
This absolutely cannot happen in America.
Uncle Luke – yes, the curly-collar polo shirt wearing former front man of ‘80s ass music vendors 2 Live Crew - is running for Mayor of Miami and, according to this report, he’s “As serious as he wants to be.”
Pardon me while I drop thee fuck dead.
I’d seen this a while back dear readers, but I was far too busy getting my updo tightened and my talons slathered in OPI’s To God Be The Glory (a fetching shade of opalescent white) in preparation for the rapture of love to pay attention to any gap-toothed political ambitions, such as they aren’t. We all know what happened when jaysus got high and forgot to teleport all of us believers to The Upper Room last week, so we won't get salty about THAT shazzamery all again. *side eye to the sky*
Anyway, when I saw the video of this my mind was changed. In the spirit of metropolitan transit authorities across the country, I felt motivated to speak out. If you see something, say something game proper!
THIS:
He wants all meetings recorded eh? Mmmmhmm, that’s a trap. Be warned council members - you all go on camera if you wanna. Someone will pour a bottle of champagne over your head and run a dusty ATM card between your cheeks about four minutes in – THEN sell it at a flea market in Little Haiti.
And that’s just not what jaysus had in mind children.
This, people, is coonetry done right. Martin Luther The Kang did not die in vain!
Police: Thief chopped off, stole woman's waist-long ponytail at bus stop
Does anybody know where the Braxton sisters were this weekend? I'm just sayin...
I was just coming to terms with Saturday's rapture fail (We're not going to talk about how I ended up $850 in the hole behind an all-white-erythang couture homegoing wardrobe - Jaysus I am hate you so much right now...) and accepting that, as confirmed by Phaedra Parks' continued presence on Earth, the rapture did NOT happen after all, when I received this dispatch.
End times may have kicked off after all! In the immortal words of Aunt Esther, eeeyeahhhh glory!
SAO PAULO — Brazilian police say a thief cut off and stole a woman’s long hair while she waited at a bus stop.
Police say the hair was virgin, meaning it had not been chemically treated, and will probably be sold for the production of wigs.
They creeping through your windows, snatching your ponytails up!
I'm shocked that Foxy Brown hadn't thought of this years ago, quite frankly.
Inspector Jose Carlos Bezerra da Silva said Friday to Globo TV’s G1 website that the woman was waiting for a bus in the central city of Goiania when the man used a knife-like weapon to cut the hair, which reached past her waist. She said she thought the man was going to steal her purse so she turned her back to him.
Nevermind the herpes and rampant poverty that come as part of your "So you wanna live in Brazil" gift basket, you now have to worry about getting an involuntary pixie cut while waiting for the A29???
Good. Day.
PS: How swift does a ninja have to be to slice the pony off and keep steppin'?!? GUTTA. I bet Mary J. Blige's agents were involved.
This is EXACTLY why I advocate Remy's breakaway banjee ponytail line - specially designed for the ratchet socialite's needs. Laugh now dear reader - but sources tell me McDonald's has revived its sweet chili nugget dipping sauce and you KNOW how tightly they monitor that shat. By next Friday, batches are gonna be scrapping in drivethru's across the nation behind that elusive second packet! (Don't act like you haven't raised your voice behind the nugget sweetness...)
I suggest you have your vaseline and stunt ponytail TOGETHA - or end up like Lupe rockin' the Webster 'fro!
That shat really sneaked up on a sister mane! The movies told me I had at least until 2012. I had so many more tilted wigs to snatch – so many more batches to slap. I’d only gotten up through 1988! Le sigh.
Eh well. It’s really about damned time the credits rolled on this piece. I mean, all the clues have been there – or did you think JLo and her insistence upon making “music” was NOT a sign of end times? I saw two horsemen run behind her in that last video…
Hell, the emergence of Donald Trump as a political contender was directly referenced in the New Testament! (And there shall arise one of withered peen and flapping jowl and he shall wear a crown of dryer lint…)
You’d better check your Revelations heathen!
Since I’m among the hardest Mahalia Jackson fan-flapping jaysus enthusiasts out there (halle-LEU-jah!) , I have no doubt I shall be getting sucked up in the heavenly vortex and doing the cha cha slide with Marvin Gaye around this time tomorrow – you know, while you’re back here enduring all the pestilence and destruction that your persistent abuse of weave products has brought upon you. (I offered you help heathen, and yet you continued to abuse the wet and wavy….)
I must admit that there are a few things I will miss – mostly to do with food products and the joy that comes from telling someone to go to hell (in due time, in due time…) I w ill also miss my cat, who’s been backslidden for years and will NOT be coming to heaven to be entertained by the Winans and served mojitos made from jaysus’ tears.
But there are plenty of things I won’t miss. Among them:
Flo-Rida’s hairline: Among my very few sins has been the negligence I have shown in not giving the full press coverage to one of the most offensive hairlines to emerge in decades. When that man teamed up with Brandy “Invisi-temples” Norwood, it was like a dream team of hairline shazzamery. I truly won’t miss the many furrough-browed nights I’ve spent struggling to divine the mystery of why this man would allow his hairline to be shaped like the letter W.
The Braxton Sisters: As much as I seem to love talking about these graceful creatures and their broomstick weaves, the fact of the matter is that it’s exhausting! I mean, every time I figure I’ve said all there is to say, BOOM, one of them turns up wearing hot pink lipstick with red lipliner and a pineapple shaped quick weave. My soul is weary. As weary as that sideways Pocahontas braid that one child keeps rockin’…
The entire District of Columbia: You know what our problems are. And you’d better be lucky I’m rolling out on the Glory Express tomorrow morning or it would be you and me whorebitch! I’ve got my Vaseline on my cheeks, my rings on my finger and the tiger in my eyes!
Coons: I was speaking to a friend yesterday about why coons continue to populate the earth. It’s like they come from a factory with the world's highest output and no plans on recalls. There’s no way to get rid of them – you shoot coons with a silver bullet, two more spring up. I had just shared with her my idea to rid the world of coons – a gun that shoots jobs instead of bullets… - when I got the telegram that plan “get thee fug out” was indeed going down tomorrow. A great idea that won’t come to fruition. At least I won’t have to deal with coons anymore – that I won’t miss.
Alright well I have packing to do. I hear they will provide me with a svelte robe and golden cord with which to tie it - it's couture, get you a piece slut! – but I’m going to try and sneak my judgey pants in anyway.
Police: Criminals Ignoring Cash, Stealing Thousands in Remy Weave Nationwide
I hate every last thing about this – and I especially hate that the first image that popped into my head was that of a Set It Off style showdown, complete with Vivica Fox getting brain juice splattered on her chin for being too slow on the gotdamned register.
*Stop screaming and put the Sensationnel 22-inch party ponytail in the bag - I got BINGO tonight whore!*
According to The New York Times (More on their devolution into chroniclers of elite coonery later…):
(The thieves) "did not give the safe or cash register a second look. Instead they went straight for what was most valuable: human hair...During the past two months alone, robbers in quest of human hair have killed a beauty shop supplier in Michigan and carried out heists nationwide in which they have made off with tens of thousands of dollars of hair at a time. “
Note to The Weave Shop: Invest in copious Biz Markie portraits pit bulls TODAY!
I'm telling you straight off: Iffen I end up dead on the floor of "Thank Jaysus The Loan Came Through Miraculous Heavenly Hands Beauty Salon and Check Cashing" behind some Beyonce weave, I'm coming back to haunt ERY damned body, you smell me?
Beyonce weave straight claiming lives. Sensationnel instant weave got folks headed to the drive-thru mortuary.
Logging. Off.
I knew wet and wavy weave was destroying this community one scalp at a time. But I figured the end would look more like Tamar Braxton’s wig vault or Naomi Campbell’s parched ass hairline as it lays on the salon floor clutching its neck and gasping for air.
I never figured on some Juice type shat behind Remy weave. Bishop play too much!
More here:
In addition to the $150,000 Houston robbery this month, thieves have recently taken $10,000 in hair from a San Diego shop; $85,000 from a business in Missouri City, Tex.; $10,000 from a shop in Dearborn, Mich.; and $60,000 from a business in San Leandro, Calif.
Notice that the Asians aren’t included in this story. Why? Because Wong and them BEEN hip to the Children of the Sun’s fuckery and prepared themselves with an assortment of weaponry for that ass years ago. You make a move on some Remy weave in any Korean-owned, inner city hair mart if you wanna – you’ll have a ninja star in your retina and a numchuck up the ass faster than you can say "Chung’s Weave Emporium-n-Daycare don’t even get down like that son!"
I speak from experience!
I too was about to pull down my ski mask and get crunk and disorderly behind a wet and wavy weave drawstring pony, before I learned that I could dutty wine just as effectively with a head full of Afghan hound as with human hair weave. The more you know! Haters can stay on their job - the kennel has done me well and I haven't had to violate probation.
Why is President Obama chasing after terrorists when we have a crisis of epic proportions right here on American shores??? Gas costs $10,000 a gallon and batches pockets are looking anemic. None of which negates the need for wet and wavy weave splendor.
Sistas gotta work the Beyonce weave out! And that means there will be blood Mr. President. THERE WILL BE BLOOD.
PS: I know in my heart that each Toni Braxton sister is involved with this. Hell, from the looks of those cheap weave catastrophes, I NEED them to be involved with this...
Love Black Women? They're All High Testosterone-havin' Dudes (Sorry Boo!)
I knew this broad was going to blow our cover
Well it finally went and happened.
The jig is up black "women" – they’re on to us. You heard me right - they've figured out we're dudes! If you love black women, sorry.
Yes, it’s true. Black women are really just black men who got bored one day and wanted to expand the NBA – I tried to speak out against the scheme, but they just tossed me in a corner with some Wet-n-Wild Raspberry Oooh La La lipstick and said “Get the paintin’!”
Go ahead and take those socks out of your shirts, snatch those Tina Turner reject wigs off and drop your voice back down to The Temptations register. Take off the skirts – they’re not covering up that Refrigerator Perry figure anyhow.
Nicki Minaj, put those pads back in the couch boo.
It’s over. The dream has died. In a Psychology Today study, "Why are African American Women Less Physically Attractive Than Other Women?", Dr. Satoshi Kanazawa has snatched our hip pads clean out:
Kanazawa (who is also the author of a book called Why Beautiful People Have More Daughters) speculates, "The only thing I can think of that might potentially explain the lower average level of physical attractiveness among black women is testosterone. Africans on average have higher levels of testosterone than other races."
I’m so glad I can finally untape my balls! Praise him!
I’m really surprised nobody got hip to our little scheme years ago – I mean, did people REALLY think those black women models Fashion Fair trots out were female?? (I mean really, how much high testosterone can you have and still be considered female..) How many times did YOU mistake one of their ads for a picture of Burt Reynolds?? *raises hand*
And I REALLY thought Omorosa and her steel jaw (I bet she can crack thee HAYLE out of some snow crab legs...) was gonna spill the beans.
Now the world knows - all of the famous black women you've known and loved are really dudes. Oprah? That's just Otis. Beyonce? Girl that's Brandon. And Wendy Williams? Well even I couldn't believe that one sneaked below the radar.
Even important black women in history were dudes: Harriet Tubman? That was Harry from the grocery store!
GIFSoup PS: Florida was Florence...but you kind of figured that one on your own...
So nooooooow back to reality land: You know what’s more tired than this study? The fact that every time a study comes out, black women get all up in arms about it.
For the record, according to assorted studies over the years, black women:
- Are second only to Jabba the Hut in their massive obesity - Pass most of the day in tree stands firing high powered crossbows at interracial couples - Have 4,239 children – a year. (All with names ending in “-tae”) - And are dying from breast cancer/heart attacks/diabetes/scrotal cancer/cancer of the entire body
Oh and those batches smell like Lysol and crawfish boil too! Annnnnnd they shop at Ross - tacky batches!
Here’s an idea: How about we just stop giving a rat’s ass about dumb ass studies advancing dumb ass theories done by dumb ass people who pay waaaaay too much attention to black women to be anything but completely, purely and unequivocably OBSESSED with them, k?
Stop giving these people the attention they crave and Dr. Kanazawa and all others of his ilk will return to their Ted Kazinsky style huts and watch child porn the way they do any other Tuesday.
And that’s the roundabout way of saying that me and my high testosterone are OVER IT.
UPDATE: Apparently Bobbi Kristina (you know, Whitney Houston's highly successful daughter) could be heading to club muff for something involving guns. Is there some type of miracle water or magic beans or something we can get these folks??? Because when Bobby Brown's yestersexy ass is doing the best in the family, you're beyond the help of Jaysus!
Whitney Houston is back! *whispers* in rehab. (I'm such a faulty person.)
I guess when she said she was clean two years ago, she meant to say dirtier than rapper Jim Jones' period draws. And from the looks of that swarthy ninja, that's pretty damned dirty.
According to CNN, Washington Post and assorted other entities snickering this afternoon:
"Whitney Houston is currently in an out-patient rehab program for drug and alcohol treatment," her rep tells PEOPLE in a statement. "Whitney voluntarily entered the program to support her long-standing recovery process."
Houston initially entered rehab in 2004, telling ABC News interviewer Diane Sawyer at the time: "I partied a lot. Trust me: I partied my tail off." But, the singer also admitted, "You get to a point where you know the party's over."
Now, her spokesperson won't specify just what she's getting treatment for, but sounds to me like Nippy's back up to her "Waiting to Inhale" antics, hitting homerun slides into piles of white magic Tony Montagna-style. In the words of iconic beard enthusiast Teddy Riley, "It. Ain't. Over."
Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm!
Honestly, this confession only shocks you if you a) haven't heard her squawk sing recently, or b) haven't taken a look at the alien-incubator midsection she's been cultivating for the past 15 quarters.
Naturally, I've BEEN on to her: You can't keep slithering into evening dresses with that Somalian-who-just-ate-a-hearty-sammich type figure and not arouse an eyebrow raise on the Hostile One, mkay?
The news follows about two summers of sham wows. It was just 2009 when Whitney Houston tagteamed with Jaysus and Clive Davis to release a new album and declare herself spic and span - a move emphasized by her appearance sans disheveled wig and in sensible shoes. Clive rolled out a cleaned up, fully trussed version of Whitney Houston - it was like Frankie had been run through an all-cloth car wash!
Well apparently either Jaysus couldn't help her or he sold her the rocks. He can be real funny that way! According to media reports she gave an uneven performance at a Dionne Warwick tribute recently and we're all familiar with the "on again, off again" schedule she maintained during her "Nothing But Love" comeback tour a year ago.
Don't these musicians watch The Five Heartbeats? You can't do The Drugs and keep making money!
In any event, I think it's time for Whitney Houston's handlers to accept the inevitable: This once golden-voiced diva has ruined herself and there is, sadly, no chance for a return. She'll come back when Naomi Campbell's hairline does - which will be never.
Instead, I'm suggesting they consider a "Teddy Ruxpin" strategy, in which Whitney Houston (rather than being asked to actually perform) is fitted with an Mp3 player chest panel with a pre-selected playlist for all future concert performances. This relieves the pressure on the faded diva, who will be responsible only for an extra shoulder shimmy and a colorful "I look to you Cleveland! Woohoo!" during each performance, while ensuring audiences are not subject to any type of croaking or other fuggery.
It's an updated Milli Vanilli!
PS: Far be it from me to imply shady dealings, but haven't you noticed that Bobby Brown is back out with music (Nostradamus end times prediction no. 22,300,873) AND there's talk of a Waiting to Exhale sequel? Could this actually be a very elaborate attempt at stealing Stroke Mouth's shine??
Pole dancers take heed - the revolution's a comin' and it has legs shaped like the letter C!
Don't expect me to shade Bushwick Bill's fraternal twin sister for being two apples tall dear readers - not when THN is but an inch taller than Kid from Kid-n-Play's high top fade at it's most elevated!
But I will definitely offer some awning-style extended shade to Plies for being the cultivator, purveyor and fuckery maestro responsible for bringing us this - and doubtless other assorted negro hijinks - through his highly (snort laugh) anticipated reality TV show "The Real Goonette."
I thought Foxy Brown had copyrighted that title???
According to Plies (whose 1998 curly collared polo shirts have set my eyelashes aflutter...) the term applies to "female hustlers" who are getting it "hard in the paint" (!) with style and grace.
And by style and grace, he means with a dollar on their forehead and buttcheek turned up to heaven!
And that's about where Lil V and her jumbo junk badunk comes in. Press play to see (t)highlights from her hot and heavy evenings at Club Toot It and Boot It making it jiggle for school supplies and explaining how she found it hard to obtain mainstream work while living with achondroplasia dwarfism. Her grown up ass on a toddler body steez has landed her gigs in several music videos - so a reality TV series was sure to follow. All I can say is girl preach - stripper jobs beat customer service anyday!
(WARNING: Not safe for life.)
Florida why do I see your fingerprints ALL OVER THIS?????
I can't knock chocolate mini mama's hustle - don't pretend like I'm the only one who's noticed these "Little People, Big World" types tend to have the double wide, extended cab booty game on permanent lock. Why not turn that econo-sized seatwarmer into a piggy bank???
As for her legs being on permanent cowboy stance? Well you can't have everythang! Hell if you know anything about dwarfism you know the leg sitch is part and parcel with the condish - or didn't you wonder why I always look like I'm squattin...
Quietly (and don't ask how I know this) I think Bridget the Midget has all but tapped the lucrative midget sex toy field. But if Lil V is determined, all I can say is swang one of those parentheses lookin' jawns up on that pole and get it how you live boo!
PS: I generally don't listen to Plies and will hold off on getting into why he has a reality TV series in another installation. I'll be needing a double dose of Benadryl and a shot of praise jaysus to sleep tonight as it is...
Lest you think we here at THN were racist (my commitment to the exposure of The Whites' clear efforts at wresting the lucrative coonery market from the grips of The Blacks should be proof otherwise, but I know you all are shady bastards...) I present some special edition red skin coonery, care of our Native American brothers in fuggery.
From the Daily Beast:
The Fort Sill Apache Tribe asked for an apology Thursday from President Obama for using "Geronimo" as a code name for Osama bin Laden. “Right now Native American children all over this country are facing the reality of having one of their most revered figures being connected to a terrorist and murderer of thousands of innocent Americans,” said Fort Sill Apache Tribal Chairman Jeff Houser. Geronimo is a legend among Apaches and other Native American tribes for fiercely defending his land from the U.S. and Mexican Armies.
Shouldn't you all be somewhere going extinct or something??? Ok that was just TIRED!
*standing in corner picking chitlins from teeth*
Now normally I would wholeheartedly support the agitations of my cherry-skinned brethren - after all, America defined shade by its decimation of their entire community and for that, their eye rolling and tongue clicking stunts are forever justified. However, how are you going to come after President Barack Obama for using Geronimo and not sue the entire Looney Tunes franchise? Because I'm 99.999 percent sure I heard Bugs Bunny or somebody utter about 50-leven "Geronimos" a second on those cartoons.
Don't you have bigger problems, like trying to keep existing????
Somebody toss them a check for $10,000 and a row of seats. No shade, they'd better settle down before someone shoots them in the eye and buries them at sea... I hear that's what ninjas are doin' in the streets these days!
I guess I can't shade the obvious grab for a moment of shine. I'm not fooled either: Geronimo The Movie is clearly in the works (likely with some Native American Madea action) and they're trying to get press. Can't knock the hustle. Expect Mya and Ja Rule to work their unnoticed asses into this somehow in 5-4-3-2...
Gas is high. Osama bin Laden is dead. Jennifer Lopez music videos are back on and poppin'. Tell me this ain't end times - I dare you!
I can't speak for you, but I've been eagerly waiting for the Grand Emperor of the Troll People (Lil Wayne's official title - The More You Know!) to tap the eff out - if not from having 40 children a quarter, then at least from spitting a random "Carter" on the track of anybody willing to pay him in Rap Snax and QPs. Nivea and Lil Wayne need to hook back up so he'll be distracted...
And that's my colorful way of saying this shit right here is tragic.
Have. A. SEAT.
We won't address the brand placement - after all, you didn't think Jennifer Lopez could afford the dancers from the Coming To America bridal intro scene (I see your "She's your queeeeeen to beeeeeeee" steez about three minutes in...) on her not so lucrative salary as a washed up red carpet barnacle did you? Or did you think J Lo perfume sales were making it happen? *snort laugh*
For the record, I have always thought JLo was fabulously cunt and sick on the dance floor. Especially back in 1994 when she was most relevant as a Fly Girl on assorted In Living Color episodes. Yep, back before I had a period, she was the shizz. Mmmhmmm. Back before the Interweb.
In other words: THE GOOD SHIP RELEVANCE HAS SAILED AND YOU ARE NOT ON IT.
Your time has come. And gone. What are Jennifer Lopez babies doing right now? Oh yes - WEEPING PROFUSELY.
When I witness shenanigans such as JLo and her continued career, I feel like tearing my degree in half - why mama, why didn't you tell me to focus on ass injections and perfecting my cha cha slide?
I too could have stacked my chips and saved up to rent the old set of Janet Jackson's "Love Will Never Do Without You" - covered myself in bottle caps and writhed my way to musical sexcellence.
Because that's REALLY all that's going on here.
And now, for no reason other than the fact that I get pure and unadulterated life from watching that one dancer undulate in control top tights, I leave you with the Zamunda breakdown:
When I think about the adhesives that protected my 8-year-old eyes from random flashes of peen and vajay lips I say a prayer for 3M...
UPDATE: The names are in - and amazingly, they are not inspired by My Little Pony. From CNN -
Mariah Carey and her husband Nick Cannon have finally revealed the names of their twins who were born in Los Angeles on Saturday.
Their son is named Moroccan Scott Cannon, with the nickname "Roc". Scott is Nick’s middle name, as well as his grandmother’s maiden name.
Their daughter’s name is Monroe Cannon. Mariah's rep says she does not have a middle name because Mariah herself does not have one. Monroe was named after Marilyn Monroe, who has been an inspiration to Mariah her whole life.
Aha! Mariah Carey's ho steez is finally explained! As for naming the child after the ethnicity of the Canal Street scented oil man (you know, the one with oil holster): No comment.
As you were.
What you know: After the world's longest pregnancy (don't act like you didn't notice this ho carrying high in the neck for 15 months...) Mariah Carey and Nick Cannon have welcomed a pair of twin babies - a boy and a girl.
What you didn't know: They haven't named the children - a sure sign of fuggery to come.
From Digital Spy:
Cindi Berger, a representative for the couple, confirmed to The AP that Carey gave birth today at 12.07pm EDT at an unknown hospital in Los Angeles. The singer's daughter was born first, weighing 5lb 3oz, followed closely by a boy, weighing 5lb 6oz. "My wife just gave me the most incredible anniversary gift ever in life!" Cannon tweeted earlier today. "I won't ever be able to top this!" YOU'RE MAKING THIS TOO EASY FOR ME - LOVE THN Although the couple have yet to name the new arrivals, they are expected to renew their wedding vows tomorrow, having celebrated three years of marriage today.
Amazingly, I was just days away from leading a CIA team to the Carey compound for an orchestrated snatching of the sack full of pink feathers I was convinced Mariah Carey was keeping under her ass-skimming dress when I got news that - praise JAYSUS! - she was safely delivered of two human babies!
And all this time, I had her pegged to deliver a cheesesteak and a liter of orange Fanta! This is the best news since America assassinated Osama and dumped his body in the sea (oh yea, you're detecting shade there...)
Now onto the more pressing issue of what these doomed blessed arrivals will be named.
*snatches back curtain* I submit my Top 3 Baby Names for Mariah Carey:
1) Unicorn and Rainbow: Appropriately captures the "I'm a 5-year-old princess" vibe that Mariah Carey has cultivated for the last 17 summers while injecting a unisexual vibe. I mean, a boy OR a girl could be named Rainbow, am I right or am I right?
2) Honey and Bunny: It rhymes. What more could you want from baby names?
and my final pick (and the one I seriously DO think will happen)
3)Nick and Mariah: I could SOOOOO see these two doing that. Those babies won't have a chance.
Please say a silent prayer for the babies born into the glittery fuggery that is the Carey-Cannon dynasty.
He said "As you can see, I take my Affirm XL and now it's time to regulate."
What's that I hear in the distance? Oh yes, JAYSUS WEEPING. Clearly Warren G didn't have a prayin' grandmother...
It would appear that the bust up of the beloved Nate Dogg and Warren G team (you know, after Nate Dogg exited for The Upper Room recently...) has hit Warren G hard (nevermind the 20-odd recordless years of surviving on bologna sammiches and Fanta waiting to get put back on...) and his wang has taken it hardest.
Or softest.
It's too early in the morning for this shat.
From TheRoot:
The supplement's website includes three spots starring him -- and even working in a hip-hop reference for anyone who couldn't quite place the almost 40-year-old rapper
*clutches chest Redd Fox funeral style* It's the big one! I'm coming to join you Elizabeth - with a 15-year-old Warren G cassette in my hand and one of Hugh Hefner's ratty smoking jackets on my back!
Time to regulate indeed.
Nevermind the subtle shade implied in the notion that someone couldn't quite place him ("Who is this coon? Oh wait, he's the cat who be down at the Wash-n-Go on Crenshaw...") The question on my mind is exactly how is Warren G, by all accounts a 90s rap "star" who hasn't been relevant in a few presidential administrations, qualified to shill male enhancement pills?
Why would anybody buy a male enhancement pill from a someone whose peen probably hasn't seen any action since the 2 Live Crew "Barbeque and Balls Bash" of summer 1995????
Hell, let me stop: Some class of 93 former Bonita Applebum-turned-mama of 17 probably gave Warren G her considerably stale cookies behind a Circle K just last week. The shat people do for a chance to share a sammich *shakes head*
But that doesn't change that we haven't seen a Warren G album of relevance since the Real World was a legitimate show, and Regulators - though celebrated as a 90s rap hit - was really just Warren G and Nate Dogg moaning about some shat that would be forgettable had the song not been carried by the dope Michael McDonald background beat. Boom. KAK even.
Hell, ninja NEED to be taking a CAREER enhancement pill...I ain't lyin'!
President Barack Obama birther debate is officially out of control
So I had just donned my special Cee Lo/Wizard of Oz robe and was about to lead a 14-hour weave intervention for the Braxton sisters (pray for them ya’ll, their yaki sins are numerous and their scalps are weary) when I heard that Obama was holding a press conference to announce the release of his long form birth certificate and confirm that he was, in fact, born in America.
From live reports:
The president said officials in Hawaii had been persuaded to make an exception and release the full 'long form' version of the documents because the debate had become a sideshow. 'We're not going to be able to solve our problems if we get distracted by sideshows and carnival barkers,' he said. (The strategic arrangement of mustache clippings that comprises Donald Trump’s hair does indeed count as a sideshow – THN ) …'We've got some big challenges ahead,' he said. 'We're not going to be able to do it if we just make stuff up and pretend that facts are not facts. We do not have time for this kind of silliness.'
We sure as hell do NOT – not as long as gas is priced by the carat and I have to pawn a ring to go to the club! I need a team getting on top of this $4 gas sitch STAT because if I’m forced to fill up for $45 once more, wigs will get SNATCHED, ya hear? But I digress.
President Barack Obama, YOU ARE FUGGIN UP
Mmmmhmmm. I said it. Obama is responding to ignorance with seriousness – always a bad idea. You have to meet jackassery WITH jackassery. Didn’t this cat go to Harvard University????
The birthers say you weren’t born in the states, ok, cool breeze. Dignifying their crazy, I’ve-got-a-bunker-in-my-basement asses by digging into Hawaii’s super secret birth certificate vault (where they keep ALL the terrorist birth records) and digging up your credentials = YOU’RE LOSING.
Let me tell you something – those people will only be satisfied when Mama Obama has submitted to an intravaginal excavation, led by a United Nations team accompanied by world class spelunkers. And if they don't turn up weapons of mass destruction, they'll claim the entire procedure has to be repeated!
Don't believe me? Just look what popped up in the LA Times about an hour or so after President Obama spoke:
Orly Taitz, self-annointed leader of the so-called "birther" movement, says she welcomes the White House’s decision to release President Obama’s long-form birth certificate but still has questions about his past that would put his eligibility to hold office in doubt.
I propose in the grand tradition of jackassery, that Obama should have BEEN embraced this birther situation with full on sarcasm. That would involve:
1) Suddenly requiring that Secret Service agents wear camouflage and carry assault rifles 2) Demanding to be referred to as “Barack X” 3) Abandoning the White House to instead live in a series of tents on the White House grounds And 4) Holding all press conferences in Arabic, which you “picked up” while studying in Iran Colorado. Yeah, that’s it, Colorado.
Oh and how could I forget – he should show up to all presidential events dressed like this:
Of course, President Obama would probably not fair well in the 2012 election. But sometimes, you've just got to act a monkey.
Meanwhile, can someone, anyone, PLEASE explain to me how Donald Trump manages to be taken seriously in this matter?
Newsflash - The man is looking people in the eyes with this on his head:
I repeat – he has ticker tape or some type of gossamer silk on his head passing as hair. (I would refer to this as dryer lint, dear readers, but that would be a direct insult to dryer lint, which is infinitely thicker and more lustrous.)
How in thee WORLD does this man get to comment on a DAMNED THING???
I’m sorry, at the point at which your hair starts resembling spun sugar, I can no longer hear anything you say. My ears reject it – it’s the damnedest thing. I can just barely hear Tamar Braxton over her swisher sweet fringe bangs.
Look, when I need advice on how to turn gossamer silk into a semi-passable hair piece, I’ll holler at Donald Trump.
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