Thursday, April 28, 2011

Warren G Promotes Male (ahem) "Enhancement" Pill (We're not praying hard enough, clearly..)

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'!

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

THN Verdict: President Obama is Fuggin' Up (And not just because he's clearly in Al-Qaida...)



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.

Otherwise, PAYIN’ IT! (as in no attention…)

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Braxton Family Values (Advanced Placement Fuggery - Get Ready for Your Test!!)

UPDATE: May the spirit of wet and wavy weave rest upon this family.

I just have no earthly idea why these womens' hair consistantly looks like dryer lint, but every SINGLE time I see them I feel the need to hand someone a hijab.

Meanwhile - can we get Tamar Braxton on the adoption market? It's not too late. I'm sure a Pimp Named Silky will take her on.

And perhaps he'll be willing to press her out. Everybody wins!!!!

As for Toni Braxton - no shade, I need the key to unlock the mystery of her swole up cheek situation STAT.



Forgive me father for I have sinned!

In a highly uncharacteristic show of selfish concern with the future livelihood of my vagina, last Tuesday, I went on a date rather than staying at home and tending to my exhaulted coon-monitoring duties. The result: No Twitter, THN or any type of coverage of the split end, wet and wavy weave fest that is Braxton Family Values.

FOR SHAME THN. FOR. SHAME.


No more! I have learned the error of my ways and the power of my duties as a documenter of the age-old fuggery of the children of the sun.

So tonight, tune in here for live blogging (I can see you setting your phone reminder – I love you too baby!) as I continue to take notes on the destruction of the negro race artistic posturing that is Braxton Family Values.

I wish I could give you a review of the second week, dear reader, but as I mentioned, I was off galavanting with lust in my heart and ky jelly in my purse. But I feel secure in saying it definitely involved a lot of Tamar in full sail dramatic cunt mode; her husband sittin' her down in still HIGHER dramatic cunt mode (proving that he is indeed the mother of the house and his children SHALL obey) and the rest of her sisters desperately searching for their respective relevancies, possibly with the aid of a private eye. Oh and Toni being pie-faced and over the fact that this is her life.

Take a look at the initial episode trailer - and tell me that's NOT what happened...


See you all at 9 loveboogers!

Monday, April 25, 2011

Of Faith and Fuggery: Black Florida Politician says Slavery Was A Blessing



Billy Blanks, this is NOT how you come out of the closet.


If a picture is truly worth a thousand words, scream “Magenta!” about 80 dozen times and you’ll have this portrait about summed up. I could go further in on her day glo, all booberry-erythang blush/lip game, but fuck it. I see your Fashion Fair spokesmodel halo boo!

In case you were wondering – and if you have a normal functioning sex drive, you DEFINITELY were - this splendiferous sampling of southern ladyhood is Kimberly Daniels - a Florida minister, self-acclaimed “demon buster” and if I don’t miss my guess, vagina enthusiast *pearl clutch* who is currently running for city council in Jacksonville, Fla.

So you’re thinking, OK THN – other than favoring Billy Blanks with a six-piece Remy “Oprah” weave and Marge Simpson’s suit from that one episode where she changed clothes, what is this woman’s claim to fuggery fame?

THIS!

From The Huffington Post:
Perhaps, the most shocking quote from Daniels, who is African American, came when she portrayed slavery as a heavenly gift.
“I thank God for slavery," preached Daniels, in a sermon that was captured on video. "If it wasn't for slavery, I might be somewhere in Africa worshiping a tree."


Now see, that’s where you’re wrong. You would be a kang in Africa! Doesn’t she see how well they treated Muhammed Ali – a man with whom she shares exact physical dimensions? She could pass herself off as his seed and score a double-wide hut with central fanning and wall-to-wall mud floors faster than you can say chiseled jawline. Shit, she looks just Henry Cele, the actor from the old Shaka Zulu movie. You’d better get on over there and claim your 50 virgin wives girl!

Apparently this isn’t her first fuggery foray:
"I do not buy candy during the Halloween season," Daniels told Charisma magazine on October 27, 2009. "Curses are sent through the tricks and treats of the innocent whether they get it by going door-to-door or by purchasing it from the local grocery store. The demons can't tell the difference."


Well now on this, I must agree: Curses DEFINITELY travel through Tootsie Rolls. I’ve spent one too many nights undergoing intense Quilted Northern therapy to dispute that much!

It would seem the voters have had some demonic Butterfinger run ins too: HuffPo reports that on March 17th she received 43-percent of the vote and forced a May 17th run off with Republican David Taylor.

If that don’t be all.

Well, the good news is that, given Florida’s longstanding status as a top producer of fuckery, her election could do nothing to worsen the state’s sitcheeation.

ASHAY!

The bad news: If they don’t at least get this firewood choppin’ batch to cast off the demon of ProBuild 3000 – with which she is so CLEARLY waging a losing battle - a ‘roid rage incident is bound to occur in the council chambers.

And if her Marine-sized guns are any indication, domes will get cracked, chairs flipped and the overall environment will go Vibe Awards REAL quick.

She Hulk game proper!



You see it.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Take Me Now Lawd Video: Postal Worker Caught Taking a Dump in Yard

If you love yourself, you won't watch this video.


Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy



I shit you not (so tired) when I say that I hoped against all hope, crossed my fingers, said a prayer, did a jig and generally sent out all of the good juju I keep stashed deep in my hope chest (next to my commemorative Mary J. Blige 6-piece Remy weave suite) for this headline NOT to involve a postal worker of the brown persuasion.

And yet there it clearly is - a chocolate thigh, poised precariously, hovering over Barb and Bill's bushes, expelling the remains of last night's pig feet feast.


GIFSoup


Now, though this postal worker clearly has a few things they need to take to the lord in prayer (the demon of watery dukey shoot ain't nothin' to laugh about!), I have a few questions surrounding this entire incident. First, let's review:

From KGW-TV in Portland (which, from the looks of these "homeowners" is clearly located near three or more nuclear power plants):

Don Derfler's own wife didn't believe him when he told her the mail carrier was defecating in public. Then he showed her the pictures.
Derfler saw it all from his living room window while he was babysitting his son Wednesday afternoon.
"He started pulling his pants down and started defecating, and at that point I grabbed my camera and started to take pictures," said Derfler.


Sooooo, nevermind that their postal career is making chunky deliveries in the bushes; I mean we've all plopped a few in a random ashtray or empty Miller Lite can or neighbor's mailbox after a bad chitlin incident - am I right or am I right!

But what I REALLY cram to understand is why Don Derber or whatever this I've-gota-bunker-full-of-string-beans-and-Glock-cartridges-under-my-house lookin' cat's name is, decided not to tell bruh to get thee ENTIRE hell off his property, but rather, to START FILMING him??

You know, something about his stroke lips and those Jeffery Dahmer glasses gives me that this was a bootleg porn shoot incident gone waaaaaay to the left. You know - Big Black Postal Buns: Are You Ready for your DELIVERY! Barb pulled up, caught the chocolate thighs in mid-squat and Don had to think fast! Hell that man probably isn't even a postal carrier - that's just fetish wear!

There's really too much fuckery to summarize here, so let me just list my observations:
- This cat's name is Don Derfler (definitely a serial killer name)
- This cat clearly has no teeth (definitely a serial killer trait)
- This cat's neighbor looks like a Garbage Pail Kid and has a head the size of a Pizza Hut medium with extra cheese (no tie in, but isn't that shit really weird? I know people are trying to stock up, but do you really need an economy-sized HEAD?)

And today's phrase that slays from Derfler:

"This is how they respect our property?," said Derfler. "It's just not right, and it's also a biohazard."


THAT is what's troubling you here Mr. Derfler???? I was just barely clinging to the cross on that one until I got into "the mail carrier was suspended without pay pending an investigation."

Now, I'm no Columbo and I admit my detective skills have faded significantly since I retired from LAPD as their lead whooper of asses. However, DON'T WE HAVE THIS NINJA ON FILM TAKING A SHIT IN SOMEONE'S YARD?? What are they investigating - whether it was chunky or smooth?????

Meanwhile, you pulling your pants down, squatting in someone's azaleas, pushing, wiggling and rolling out with stank just caked all up on your uniform is only worth a suspension??????? We're not even gonna GO into what he wiped with. My soul just can't weather that today.

I hate people, especially everyone involved with this. That is, unless we discover the postal worker had a Krystal Burger or any type of White Castle product prior to making his rounds.

Then I fully understand! Gots to keep the Charmin on hand if you're rollin' with the sliders...

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Today in White Coonery: Romanian Dancing Politician Edmond Talmacean Teachs YOU How to Dougie!



So you think you can dance???? Watch the stellar example of white coonery that is Romanian politician Edmond Talmacean breaking it down JB style, and prepare to have your soul float off into the sunset. He conjured up Michael Jackson, Chubbie Checker and that lil weird shoulder hunchin’ character on Charlie Brown (you know, the one who’s always in the background giving you fits) to bring you the reason for the season.

You’d better go on and get you some free babushka!

But you know The Whites (including Fox anchor Shep Smith and Studio B)are trying to supress his dance fever -

From Fox Boston:
Edmond Talmacean, was on a TV show when he busted out this Michael Jackson inspired dance. Not everyone enjoyed his performance though. The nation’s Tourism and Regional Development Minister, says she thinks Talmacean should avoid any encore performances. The video has been great for Talmacean’s political blog, which has soared in viewership.


Why can’t they let that man be great??? He’s giving you everything you ever needed - national policy AND the Cupid Shuffle! A plan to balance the budget - AND a shoulder lean! Haters stay hatin’ when they need to be note takin' - Barrack and Michelle Obama had both better prepare to crank that soulja boy hellafied if they have ANY chance of remaining in the White House for a second presidential term, that’s for damn sure!

Meanwhile, honorable mention to Shep Smith for his dramatic pause, eyelash flutter -his tight jaw and shady queen antics give me extended fever every time! The day me, him and Moamar Gadaffi’s shady glance flingin’ ass stilleto pump in the club is the day many MANY scores will be settled, OK??? But until that great getting up morning, I’m just gonna keep watching this video and working on my moonwalk-backwards-slickety-scooch with the touch of Kid-n-Play that he does about 20 seconds in.

PS: You know I couldn’t end this post without outpointing that this video is in direct competition with my prior archival footage of James Brown and his fuppa camel walkin’ to glory:



His hips. That man cleavage. I ain’t built for this life.


Who do you think broke it down better???

Monday, April 18, 2011

Drive Thru Mortuary Makes Viewing Dead Convenient. (Sadly, Fries and Sundaes Unavailable)

Drive. Thru. Mortuary.

In the words of Ike Turner's stunt double Chris Brown: I'm done.

 


From The LA Times:
Adams funeral parlor, a fixture in Compton since 1974, brings to the business of death a convenience of the living: drive-thru viewing of the dead.
Visitors are greeted by a huge red-lettered sign above the entrance of the stone building on East Palmer Street. In the reception lounge, gold chandeliers dangle so low that tall visitors have to duck. Plastic swathes the pink upholstered seats.


So much fuckery. So little time. Just once, ONCE, can I PLEASE click on something like this and The Blacks not be involved? Can't it be like, Rosie Perez and them? Meanwhile, I would like to go on the record right here, now and TODAY as putting my family on notice -

YOU'D BETTER NOT EVEN THINK OF REDUCING ME TO THE STATUS OF A BACONATOR AFTER I'VE BEEN ASSASSINATED!


I urge you, dear reader, to make your family aware of your post-mortem wishes as well -- or risk a funeral service that involves a side of seasoned fries and a sweet iced tea. You will NOT get sweet and sour sauce on my home-going outfit! Meanwhile, is it me, or does this give an odd corpse zoo affect (as opposed to, you know, a NOT odd corpse zoo affect)?

There's more:

"It's a unique feature that sets us aside from other funeral parlors," said (owner)Peggy Scott Adams..."You can come by after work, you don't need to deal with parking, you can sign the book outside and the family knows that you paid your respects," said Scott Adams. "It's a convenience thing."


Did she just imply that you could scoot on through in the Cutlass Supreme and view Grandma Nana on the way to Laquisha's Clip-n-Weave????? Well hell, since we're talking about convenience, why not just rig up one of those vacuum tubes like they have at the bank drive thru? Just stuff the body in the container, and ZIP ZOOM - Cousin Mookie is gone home to the Upper Room!

In the spirit of the Pulitzers, I'm going to go ahead and give this patron saint of shazzamery a 2011 Golden Coon Award. The ancestors are truly stunned right now.

*wanders off singing "you's a window shoooooper!" - since I'm a drop dead asshole*

Jesse Jackson Jr. Blames iPad For Jobs Lost (Stocks in Black Shame Rise...)

In a move cleverly calculated to secure the Jackson family’s dominance as the nation’s lead producer of political fuckery and general race shame, Jesse Jackson Jr. (Jesse Jackson son no. 4,000) is personally blaming the iPad for destroying the economy – mmmmhmm, Steve Jobs and his magical fun screen are lowering book store sales > shutting down jobs > taking fish nuggets DIRECTLY out of the mouth of little Raheems across Brooklyn.

Don't deny the correlation!

From Engadget:

Publishers, librarians, and booksellers are losing their jobs and It's all entirely the iPad's fault. Forget the Kindle's millions of sales, the iPad did it. In a technophobic rant to rival all technophobic rants that have come before it, Illinois Representative Jesse Jackson Jr. accuses the iPad's popularity for the current level of unemployment in his nation, before proceeding to sculpt a rickety argument about how the First Amendment to the US Constitution is being exploited for the benefit of China.


(PS: I love this term, “technophobe” – it has an updated hatey ring to it I think today’s modern bigots will like. I’ll see if we can get the Westboro people onboard!)


Well I for one totally agree with Jackson. I mean, black folks have a looooong history of dominating the librarian industry. And have you BEEN to a bookstore this decade? They’re virtually CRAWLING with blacks, long known for our high reading SAT scores and general love of books and knowledge. I hear the KKK is a leading investor in Kindle technology for just that reason!



Gadaffi. Side. Eye.


Ok, besides stepping their hair game up to at least a 1999 level of relevance, the Jacksons can be a lot more useful if they focus on the things that really ARE problems – ie. The fact that too many black youths and hell, even their parents, are tech illiterate outside of knowing how to download the latest Travis Porter ringtone. Back about 50 million years ago, the push was getting computers into inner city communities. Well that era is OVER – it’s not enough to have a clunky Rayovac-type PC/paper weight in a Chicago community center serving as an oversized typewriter. Push to get some tech training into these inner city communities so that rather than crying about blacks losing low-paying bookstore jobs (which, PS, really aren’t heavily populated by the Children of The Sun) folks can be celebrating how many blacks are getting jobs with Apple – and commensurate salaries!

*somewhere in the distance, an old black man rocks on his pew*

Girl, sometimes THN gots to take ya to the bridge!

Seriously, I’m a little disappointed that no matter how much we spray for them, no matter how many times Terminix is called, the Jacksons keep coming back to wave their magic fuckery wands. It’s bad enough we won’t likely get The Whites drunk enough to elect another Obama this millennium; you keep saying shat like this, and deportations to the Ivory Coast might begin next week!

Oh wait, there’s more:

Jackson, himself an iPad owner, expanded on his statement by pointing to the recent bankruptcy of Borders Books...


WTF??? Meanwhile, he uses the Interweb??!! The Interweb is directly responsible for the destruction of the formerly lucrative “Town Crier” industry, once a heavy employer of negreaux across America. Loud-mouthed, hollerin’ ninjas the nation over are now reduced to just being noisy bastards in McDonald’s lines and movie theaters.

You’re part of the problem Jackson. You. Are. Part. Of. The. PROBLEM!!!!

PS: Don’t fuck with Steve Jobs. He’ll have you AND your Steve Harvey-style box fade rubbed out faster than you can say keep hope alive. Just sayin’…

Saturday, April 16, 2011

UPDATE Coachella for Coloreds: Lauryn Hill shows up; Cee Lo shows out and Erykah's mic sounds (not so) nice?

UPDATE to the Coachella 2011 shenanigans:

Before I even get started, let me acknowledge for the record a number of sartorial missteps among the colored Coachella attendees - most notably Lauryn Hill and her appearance as a Rabbinical sailor with a heroin-slanging side gig (we won't EVER get her back, not for real) as well as my soul guru and fuggery icon Erykah Badu's efforts to channel Indira Gandhi and Gallagher:


(I know you see it)


Let me stop being a faux hater - I know I've been looking for a way to effectively incorporate an Indian table cloth and Sheera-style power cuffs all season. Anyway, sartorial shenanigans aside, am I the only one suspecting something is rotten in the chitlins with regards to all of The Blacks having their mics mysteriously shut down???

From LA Times:
“Keep in mind, I’m an artist and I’m sensitive about my … ,” (Badu) said after having winced at the feedback from her microphone -- a glitch that recurred for the rest of the show...her patience, however, began to wane. She appeared to shoot some stern looks to workers resting on the side of the stage before seeming to abruptly cut her set nearly 20 minutes short.


Girl you'd better hit them with that Gadaffi glare. Coachella better get it together before a hex gets thrown! Badu will have you waking up with your legs and arms reversed - ask Andre 3000! Meanwhile, didn't the same Coachella antics cause the walking Jello pudding pop that is Cee Lo Lady Killer Green to roll out Friday? And now you won' test the queen of incense and baby daddies?

*picks up the big black phone* NAACP has been notified. An ineffective boycott is pending!!!! See how you Coachella folks feel when The Blacks stop coming to the event ... oh wait...

Whatevs. Kanye West is on tonight and they'd better have those mics sounding right and platters full of chicken wangs ON DECK - or else I predict there will be blood.

(And by that I mean, a stuntqueen showdown...)


And now back to the ORIGINAL post:



It's not just for white assholery anymore!


Dispatch the messy negro cleanup squad - we got Cee Lo Lady Killer Green actin' several types of monkey in aisles 14 through 17! Apparently my favorite living, breathing chocolate volcano cake turned to stuntqueen antics after his mic was mysteriously chopped during Day 1 of Coachella 2011.

Mmmmmhmmmm - I didn't give a damn about this three-day music festival/ bachannal of white jackassery neither (especially when I realized luxury purses were NOT involved) until my Beige American friend Frank Juice explained to me that the handful of black performers allowed to penetrate the festivities always includes at least one who cuts a plum ass, gains infinite blue side eyes and nearly plunges all of us back into slavery.

Fuckery, they name is Black Buddha!

From CNN:

Cee Lo Green, who's been all over the airwaves recently in his latest incarnation of "The Lady Killer," was 30 minutes late for his late afternoon set... just as he was apologizing to the crowd for being late, saying it wasn't his fault because his plane had just landed - the audio to his microphone was abruptly cut.
... Finally, he put a white towel on top of his bald head, walked off stage, and threw the towel to the ground - never to be seen again by Friday's Coachella audience.


Well, hell, that's how I leave my office everyday. Stop being dramatic CNN!

Meanwhile, in other coon news you can use from Coachella 2011, Lauryn Hill apparently both showed up to her set AND played songs from the Miseducation of Lauryn Hill that did NOT sound like a Lady Gaga remix with assist from the Swiss Yoddling All-Stars.

PRAISE HIM! I knew if I just hummed and rocked hard enough, change was gon' come!

From Deadbolt News:

Grammy Award winning singer Lauryn Hill turned up at Coachella on Friday to give fans a live set filled with some of best songs that made Hill a hit with fans after going solo from The Fugees.

Although Lauryn Hill has been known to give unpredictable shows in the past few years, Hollywood Reporter reveals that Hill raised her musical game and didn't disappoint the crowd at Coachella after singing some of her most memorable songs."


Well let me put on my goggles and pop the collar on my heavenly robe because now I KNOW the sky will be parting and Jaysus will be rapturing us all any second!

In case you've never paid any mind to Coachella - it's a multi-day desert fest where our Ivory brothers and sisters dance badly, drink copiously and generally embarass their forefathers and the entire GOP.

And in case you had any doubts about its potential as a hotspot for negro shenanigans, let me present you with evidence from Coachella 2010:




In one of 2010’s more spectacular displays of buckras (and an incident for which he was later named Grand Puba of Elite Fuckery - Region III) 70's soul icon Sly (you know, and the Family Stone) showed up four hours late wearing Village People fetish wear and ranting about living in a car, needing new shoes and other random factoids that typically indicate somebody’s ready for Shady Pines Homes.


(Oh, and did I mention bitch wore my wig!???)


Mmmm hmmm, and you thought Lauryn Hill started that shit. WRONG – Sly is the originator of broke down star antics.

Lauryn’s just one of the rusters!

Next negro in the coachella 2011 lineup: Kanye with special guest appearance from his unbridled anger.




I don't' know about you, but I've already hidden my kids and wife!

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Chris Rock Headed for CNN Newsroom? (Also in news: MLK Jr. Comes Back to Life, Dies Again of Aneurysm)




Ain't NATHAN workin’ out over at CNN. They’ve got their resident Crypt Keeper and the world’s oldest cracker Larry King (also the face model for all of the presidents on Mount Rushmore – news you can use!) retiring and taking his ice pick shoulders with him - shuttering all possibilities of their own spin off.

Ratings are down.

The network can’t rustle up any more braid slaves to get The Blacks to tune in and CNN news anchors ain’t cuttin’ it. Meanwhile, they’re facing stiff competition from the likes of VH1 and WE tv, all making heavy strides in the lucrative coonivision market with offerings like Braxton Family Values, Love and Hip Hop and other shows designed to slowly embarass The Blacks into finally catching a boat back to Africa.

I don’t know about you, but after the fuggery that was Tamar Braxton, I’ve got my oar in hand and my life vest collar fully popped!

Honestly, can’t some beauty shop owner toss the folks in the CNN newsroom (including Soledad O’Brien) a 2005 copy of Essence Magazine so they can break a “new” trend story?

Absent that option, the powers that be over at CNN tv news have cooked up a better plan: Chris Rock!

From the New York Post:

CNN brass are scrambling to find a new host for their troubled 7 p.m. timeslot, and trying to win back the African-American and Hispanic viewers sources say they've lost since the 2008 presidential campaign.
Hoping to accomplish both things at once, insiders said the network is interested in wooing African-American entertainers for the slot, currently held by "John King USA," and has mentioned comedian Chris Rock and former "Talk Soup" host Aisha Tyler as possibilities.


Churlllll. Get. Thee ENTIRE fuck out of here. What, comedian Tracy Morgan wasn’t available? Catch the double scoop of shade though:

CNN shot a pilot featuring Soledad O'Brien for the 7 p.m. slot, as we reported last month -- but sources tell us it was deemed unwatchable by CNN Worldwide president Jim Walton. However, some CNN suits haven't given up on the idea. "They are desperately trying to put together a show with Soledad at 7 p.m.," an insider told Page Six yesterday. "So she is getting another chance and will be shooting another pilot today."


SHITDAMN!

Word on the streets is that “It has been clearly articulated that they need to consider a host with an ethnic background for a prime-time slot” on the CNN schedule. That’s code for The Hostile Negress shamed us into ditching Guadalupe Soledad “Patron Saint of Nagger News” O’Brien and her yarns about being black in America.

Victory todaaaaayy isss miiiiinnnnne! But Chris Rock? Seriously? Hell, they might as well add a show with Chris Rock and Chris Tucker to the CNN schedule – and can we work tap shoes in there?? Didn’t we just go through this with Chocolate News?

If David Grier and his stroke face catch wind of this, there’s gonna be blood on the dance floor!

I could question why “black” and “comedy” seem to be synonymous when it comes to CNN tv, but that would just be pointless; I think the ENTIRE “CNN Black In America” shawshank – you know, when they showed us all those clappin’, sangin’ negreaux as examples of what it means to be black in America – exposed exactly what CNN’s take on The Blacks is.

Chris Rock Good Hair was cute. Chris Rock jokes are cute. Chris Rock CNN news anchors? Not cute. Well alls I know is if they DO debut a show with Chris Rock, I’ll make sure to skidaddle down to ATL for the inevitable sneak peak party. I’m certain chitlins will be on tap.

EEEYYYEAAAAAH GLORY!

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Advanced Placement Fuggery: Braxtons New Reality TV Show



Braxtons New Reality TV Show

(I ain't built for this shit...)


I would have written something earlier dear readers, but the Tuesday night coonivision choke slam that was Braxton Family Values (the new Toni Braxton reality show) left me incapacitated: I spent most of the last 24 hours sitting in a corner, clutchin' a hot pink unbreakable comb and muttering incoherently about the weave shop.


That's what a sea kelp-lookin' wet and wavy weave will do to a batch! I had visions of whithered hairlines all. damned. night.

Thankfully, a couple of parishioners came over and fanned me back upright and I'm once again sane and able to document negro antics.

Like I said, I owe my convulsive episode to the fuggery extravaganza that is Braxton Family Values. Premiering Tuesday, the new reality tv show follows '90s soul diva Toni Braxton's attempts to revitalize a career ravaged by bankruptcy, personal and family illness and just general hard knocks.

From the top of the r&b charts to poppin' it in Las Vegas. See what Satan does!

In the meantime, we the drama hungry curious and deserving public are treated to a veritable waterfall of shenanigans care of each careerless hangers on Toni Braxton sister.


There's Trina and Tasia, and Tito ... something like that, hell I don't know, I just know all the Braxton sisters sit in the backseat while one sister rises above the rest - a veritable saint of coonanigans.




FUCKERY, THY NAME IS TAMAR

.
I feel moved to pledge my undying loyalty to this saint of jackassery. Not only does she set hearts and Twitter aflame by incessantly repeating her .com catch phrase (that's tired.com!) but the sheer disrespectfulness of her weave is downright intimidating.

You GOTS to be scared of a batch willing to slap a mop head on her dome and look you dead in the eyes like ain't nathan wrong. (In all fairness, the Braxton sisters are competing equally to win the title of the butt of most bad weave jokes but more on that later.com)

But the TRUE fierceness erupted when - after confronted by Tamar about refusing to provide her angelic vocals with an album deal - her husband sat her AND her Sensationnel instant weave ALL THEE WAY DOWN.




"If you don't listen, YOU CAN'T WIN!" YAAAAASSSS. In. The. Paint.

Personally, I strongly suggest she work the assets she already has. Why focus on being an r&b star when her cups overfloweth - you'd better wriggle back into that white cooch holster and get you one of those XXL Magazine covers! Ask singer Mashonda and her skyscraper crotch if a tittie shot won't keep Rent-A-Center off your ass for a few months... I'm just sayin'!

Anyway, I'm hooked on this Toni Braxton reality show like Aretha Franklin on butter flavored Crisco. Nene Leakes who?

Rain advanced fuckery down on me Braxtons!!!!!

Monday, April 11, 2011

New Report: Wet and Wavy Weave/Beyonce Weave Antics Ravaging Black Women's Hairlines!



You would think 3M makes some sort of Velcro product targeted directly at the sketchy hairline community.


In a blockbuster article almost certainly influenced by Naomi Campbell's coastal erosion edges (honorable mention for model Cynthia Bailey and her hologram hairline...), U.S. News and World Report this week reports that relentlessly tacky, unconvincing and overall ratchet weaves creative hair concoctions are resulting in a generation of butterball-headed negresses.

From U.S. News and World Report:

A new study of middle-aged black women finds that almost 30 percent suffer from baldness and scarring in the center of their scalps, possibly because braids and weaves pull their hair too tight.


I call bullshit - judging from the average urban fastfood drive thru window, the number is at least 67 percent! But I concede that my study methods (tallying the number of askance glances I direct at assorted golden arches hairlines daily) aren't exactly scientific.

I digress - the report's author goes on to blame a mixture of black hairbraiding styles, relaxers (aka scream cream), hot combs and an assortment of (ratchet) black hairstyles for snatching negresses the world over cleaner than Bobby Brown's wallet. Mmmmhmmm, where's your Mizani Butter Blend Relaxer now??

One thing is clear about the baldness, however: "Once you get it, it's permanent," Kyei said, and the hair doesn't come back. "That's why a lot of African Americans wear wigs or put something on their scalp to hide their hair." -- I'M NOT GOING TO LET YOU CALL KELLY ROWLAND OUT LIKE THAT! - THN


So about now you might be thinking, but THN, how did they do the study? Did they just run up on assorted women with Mr. Drummond-type hairlines at the weave shop and say "Hey woman, hey woman - I noticed that your hairline is giving a slight Houdini affect, sort of now you see it, now you don't. What's tee?"

Batch, you know that's EXACTLY what they did:

In the new study, Cleveland Clinic researchers examined the hair of 326 black women who were approached at churches and a health fair in Cleveland. The women answered questions about their hair and their health.


And THAT I would have given up an entire year's worth of "This Is It!" buffalo wings (don't front, I see you gnawing on the honey goodness) to watch. Can you imagine how they convinced Sister Jenkins to lift off this:




(Praise him!)


To reveal THIS:



Someone break the glass on the emergency Holy Water vial over by the organ. And grab that Kemi Oyl out of Sister Hawkins' bra while you're at it - we're about to go to war for the LORD! Hairline missionaries, ACTIVATE!!!!!


The things people will do when promised a few Pantene samples and a coupon to Wong's Weave Hut.

In the words of Chris Brown: I'm done.

(PS: No I do NOT feel sorry for these people. They knew when they're hairline started giving a Count Chocula affect what time it was! I continue to advocate natural hair styles for black women, if only to keep my decorative afro pick racket going strong on Etsy. I'm just sayin'!)

Thursday, April 7, 2011

You Tried It: Nicki Minaj Covers Elle (Her Cakes Decline to Appear!)



You’ll never get to heaven with these sorts of stunts.

From HipHopWorld.com:
Minaj, usually known for her colorful wigs and bright makeup, is featured in Elle's Music Issue' as one of their “Gold Dust Women.” (I REFUSE to SEE that - THN)
As previously reported, the issue also features Jennifer Hudson, Aretha Franklin (YASSSS!) and Willow Smith speaking on their taste in music and own personal style.
In Nicki's spread she dons jet black liner, a simple black wig and designer pieces, a far cry from what her fans are used to.


Sooooo, riddle me this: Tweren’t the booty cheeks of Miss Nicki “Cakes-o-Plenty” Minaj JUST doubling as a moonbounce at the carnival last weekend?

Didn’t she hip-check Japan and cause 7.2 magnitude destruction for the entire nation like, LAST WEEK?

In other words, wasn’t she juuuuuust lookin’ like a 15-scoop sundae??? Sort of like this:


(I’m not here to talk about anybody’s stripper-going-to-the-library outfit, so I’ll just toss her a Snuggi and put this on my intensive prayer therapy list…)


Aaaaaaaand now you’re looking like a sample size 00? I know Elle is behind this – white fashion overlords won’t let Nicki’s Booty Pop ever fully be great! Now I don't live in an alternative universe - I know that many of our musical angels rely on the photoshop diet to fix Mother Nature's handiwork (not you Fantasia - I know that's ALL your jelly...).

But going from Amber Rose to Giselle Bundchen????

Girl, I. DO. NOT.

*hurls flaming butt pads at computer*

Logging off.

Kid-n-Play: Icons of Historic Fuggery

Believe it or not dear readers, THN DOES have remnants of a soul - tattered though they may be.

I know that in the grand scheme of things male Salt-n-Pepa Kid-N-Play have suffered enough: The one has gone through life with an extreme form of head to toe vitaligo, the other, saddled with rat-like facial dimensions.

Life ain't been no crystal stair indeed!

And so, I sat on this post for a week. Theeeeen I saw this bit about KNP being involved in a light skin vs. dark skin dodgeball tournament, and Jaysus' barber told me to ring the alarm. So now I present:

Kid-N-Play -- a veritable yin yang of fuckery.

I, like many of my fellow hostile negro Americans, have employed a vast array of herbal medications, psychiatric practices and malt liquors to erase vivid memories of the outrageous shazzamery that was the '80s and '90s - up to and including all manner of Wave Nouveau, colored denim outfit and THIS type of shit:



But every now and again (ie. this morning) I inadvertantly fall through a wormhole and it ALL. COMES. BACK.

I was in the middle of my normal AM routine – eating candied bacon, drinking Southern Comfort and watching my DVDs of Martin – when I noticed Powder Kid, from Kid-N-Play saunter across the screen. (This was, of course, the endlessly hilarious Forever Sheneneh episode.)

There was much fuggery on display, not the least of which was Kid's Biggie Smalls-style shirt complete with chest macaroni peaking from the top. But my eyes zoned in on ONE particular article of fuggery:

THE MAN HAD CUT A HOLE IN THE TOP OF HIS HAT AND STUCK HIS LOCS OUT SAID HOLE.

I want you all to just pause for a second and listen while I drive that point home:


THE MAN HAD CUT A HOLE IN THE TOP OF HIS HAT AND STUCK HIS LOCS OUT SAID HOLE.


I'm going to make a confession: In my backslidden days of youth, I had a crush on that albino. Play - or as I like to call him, Chocolate Hitler - got none of my love. I was jonesin' on that chalk-faced mullato pretty hard. I had posters. I had elaborate fantasies. I even watched the cartoon and had a cassette tape. But damned if, looking through the lens of jaded, perpetually hostile adulthood, I can even remotely understand what in the HAYLE drove me to embrace Casper so thoroughly.

Indeed, looking back at the situation, employing the sophisticated modern fuggery-detection techniques of the 21st century, I've been able to conclude without a doubt that Kid-N-Play were totally wack.

A little background:

The pair met while performing in rival high school groups The Turnout Brothers (FUCK. LIFE.) and The Super Lovers (NO SERIOUSLY, FUCK LIFE - LOVE THN, and initially formed their duo under the name The Fresh Force Crew. In 1986 She's a Skeezer and Rock Me were recorded. (OK SERIOUSLY, WHAT IN THE FUCK.) By 1987 they had changed their name to Kid n' Play.


According to this little bio, which was BTW gleaned from their FACEBOOK PAGE (jaysus, why hast though foresaken me?????), they recorded about three albums between 1988 and 1990, with their trademark being the focus on "positive lyrics backed by pop-friendly instrumental tracks."

Hits included "Rollin' With Kid-N-Play" and "Funhouse."

Oh, and they took a lot of pictures like this:




and this:


(I'm not sure what "gittin funky" involves, but I'm 100 percent certain that it's RuPaul approved.)


One had 10 inch hair and carried himself like a 13-year-old girl on her first day of middle school; the other resembled a black version of a nazi leader. Their claim to fame was kicking their feet at each other. And oh yes, they took pictures like that shat I just showed you.

I'm not sure when all of the above dawned on me, but but by age 13 or so, I had abandoned my Ivory Lover in favor of some other wack ass 1993-type bama (we won't reflect on the X Clan years...). I don't have any extra special purpose to this post, beyond saying

WHAT. THE. FUCK.

Sometimes that's enough.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Today in White Coonery: Kotex to design "couture" pads. (Cooch stylists rejoice!)




Dear Life:

I quit you.

Sincerely,
THN (smooches!)

From the Den of Fuckery:

U by Kotex looks to one-up its iconoclastic rollout of 2010 by hiring a big-name stylist for the introduction of new haute sanitary pads -- and enlisting girls and women to design their own.


And THEN it gets a little ridiculous:

TV ads behind the campaign from Ogilvy & Mather, New York, show young women, put off by a dull ad for a bland, white sanitary pad on the side of a building, taking up spray paint and brushes to create a "Take a Stand Against Bland" mural over it.


Got+damn=This. Seriously, these are end times. I mean, whatever happened to the days of just stuffing a roll of Quilted Northern in your draws and keepin' it movin'?

Whatevs. My cooch wants NATHAN to do with this ... wait...she's texting me ... she says if she can get one with mud flaps, lace detailing and a Juicy charm she's down.

She's so banjee.

Monday, April 4, 2011

The CNN Takedown Folo - AKA "Shit just got real son!"



In case you were too busy re-upholstering your nads or whatEVER it is you do with your free time to notice, 'round about last week, a certain angry tanned goddess-like creature single handedly attempted to shade CNN into submission for its negro news efforts (or lack thereof).

From Racialicious:

... is it truly a laughing matter? Why is it that CNN, arguably the world’s most recognizable cable news network, seems unable to produce timely, on-trend stories about black America? Is it really funny that a network able to pirouette through major international stories fumbles over covering one of the nation’s most visible minorities, producing mostly stereotype-based eyebrow raisers in the process?

Recent headlines include:

•Does the black church keep black women single? (August 2010)
•Black preachers who whoop: Ministers or minstrels? (October 2010)
•Held as slaves, now free (A December 2010 article about hair braiders)


Now, I'm not saying I know this author. But she strikes me as highly talented and almost CERTAINLY a very stylish individual.

*insert Phaedra-style MMMMMHMMMMMMMMM*

Anywho, all hell has since broken loose! Commentors are going to bat for their Latina Negro News Griot Soledad O'Brien, posting highly misguided original comments such as:

Comment:
Expand "The network rolls out Soledad O’Brien on a handcart, to the chagrin of some black journalists who question why a Latina-appearing, biracial woman would become the network’s patron saint of Negro news."

So, would those reports be better if a darker skinned and/or monoracial Black person was doing them?

Is the issue here the content of these reports - or O'Brien's ethnic background?



Awwwwwwwwwwwwww shiggity wiggity now! Do NOT FUG WITH THE O'BRIEN JUICE CREW BOO BOO! They slice batches faces and stomp on them in stillettos- YOU DON'T KNOW NA'ER NEWS ORGANIZATION!!!!!!

That Walker chick is out of line anyway. Who is SHE to challenge The C to the N to the N??? I have a mind to call that whore up ... OH SHIT CNN HAS A HIP HOP CHURCH VIDEO UP!

Gotta go! *Sambo dances into the sunset*

Saturday, April 2, 2011



There's a special place in hell for people who abuse pastry.


You know, one would think that at a birthday party for Q from 112 at Justin's in Atlanta (pardon me while I slip into a floppy Foxy Brown type hat - what with it being 1996 and all...) there would be all KINDS of fuckery to latch on to.

And if the YBF shots are any indication, there was: Jazze Pha was there channeling Big Pun; someone from the group Next had crept out of the wax museum (quoth Scooby, bowrow row row?) and oh yes Q FROM 112 WAS HAVING A BIRTHDAY PARTY, fuckery enough on it's own.

But nothing - not even the notion of this ninja's JELLO pudding pop-era sweater wth the elbow pads (I can't relive that so you get no photo - be glad.) - can top the grand shawshank that is this cake.

I'm really starting to think there needs to be some type of "pastry for the ratchet and needy" program - something to prevent candy from being abused this way.

I mean won't ANYBODY think of the Twizzlers???

I would be willing to excuse the inclusion of red rope candy, as well as the overall practice cake vibe of this pastry, up to and including the fact that whoever put those letters on there was clearly suffering from severe wonk eye (NeNe Leakes is baking now?). But there's one thing I will NOT overlook:

DID YOU SERIOUSLY SNATCH A PICTURE OFF MISS NANCY'S MANTLE AND PUT IT ATOP THIS CAKE????

Fingerprints all OVER the frame. Nobody had Windex? Hell, A BABY WIPE?

Why won't negros let themselves be great? And all this time I thought Ray J's Colombian cartel-inspired cake had the red alert coonery baked goods game on lock.

This cake rains pre-eminent fuckitude all. over. that.

Checkmate. Game. OVER.

Friday, April 1, 2011

Ripped from the (Sideeye Gazette) Headlines: CNN can't take the negreaux


Or so claims the highly astute and witty author of THIS particular piece.

Hmm. I bet she's also a very talented and sexually attractive journalist (actionable).

I should like to meet her some day!

Doing Too Much Warning: Mashonda remakes Juicy Fruit

This right here is the type of shit that makes a batch wanna take to the streets with a sock full of billiard balls straight swingin’ at hoes. I mean seriously – you just gonna remake Juicy Fruit?

I mean – didn’t change a lyric. Didn’t add an additional "ooooo baby." Didn’t put Gucci on there. No. You just Google’d “Song I Was Conceived To,” printed out the lyrics to "Juicy Fruit" at Staples and headed down to the Ark Music Company for your debut? Nevermind that it’s anybody’s guess why you are taking us back to the era when Rick James wasn’t full-figured – you couldn’t AT LEAST use the robot voice or something, just to mix it up??


Mtume says this ain’t over AT ALL Mashonda. PS: Pedro looks like he will snatch a bitch weave out and throw it in the fireplace with the QUICKNESS. Be concerned!


I'm issuing a Code Booger Green “You’re doin’ way too much boo boo” alert for Mashonda, in light of her recent antics.

* dims light, screen drops down, grabs laser pointer *

My data shows that Mashonda has been involved in an upswing of foolywang incidents – a veritable blitzreig of fuggery – over the past two quarters. You'll find in your information packets a pie chart documenting the ratio of fuggery to non-fuggery as well as details of recent incidents. These include:

Exhibit A: The High Top Crotch Shot


(Note to Mashonda: That dude from Cameo – you know, the one with the shiny thang holder – called and he sounded REAL cranky…)

Exhibit B:

The Love and Hip Hop shenanigan unfolding each and every weekend as part of VH1’s all-new “evening with a coon” lineup.

(Watch out BET – VH1 is changing the negro hijinx game. Hummin’ comin’ atcha!)

And finally,

Exhibit C: The launch of “Mashondaloyal.com” (subtle, boo) which includes excerpts from her new hardcover (!) book originally titled “Bitter: Party of One!” but subsequently changed to “Death of a Mermaid: Rebirth of a Goddess” – because that makes the most sense, clearly.

I’m personally saving up my coins for the much anticipated Blu Cantrell memoire “Tales of a Light Skint Nothin’” but that hasn’t stopped me from checking out excerpts from Mermaid (!):

One day, I skipped school and as I was walking through Greenwich Village someone walked up to me and said he liked my look. He also wanted to know if I sang and I responded, "hell, yes!" I was immediately invited to join a girl group and although the group didn't work out, that introduction led entrée into the music industry. Within months, I was co-writing and singing with the members of Full Force, who were sizzling hot from their work with Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera and N Sync.

My co-writing with Full Force led to a deal on Warner/Chapell Music as a songwriter. I was
20-years old and scored a $50,000 writing contract.


(Fact check: Her bio says she was born in 1981, which would make it 2002 when she would have been singing with Full Force – an eyebrow raiser unless she was singing with Full Force while composing Jr. Bacon Cheeseburgers at Wendy’s on the swing shift…)

But back to the matter at hand.

I have sympathy for Mashonda and all.
I mean, for one, bearing a name that’s clearly the result of a moms who was a Civic drivin’ potato enthusiast can’t be easy. Nor can watching your hawk-faced Arab schlong dealer husband frolicking in the province of Fierce with a beweaved mulatress be an easy pill to swallow.

It’s all so trifling and confusing and I understand that.

But these stunts and antics she’s been rollin’ out lately are just not the question, the answer OR the aftermath.

If she continues with this, I’ll be forced to issue an official Ho Sit Down decree.

After that, I catch the Bolt bus up to Harlem and straighten a batch out face to face. You don’t want that to happen. Ask Foxy.