And today in "Black People Ain't Got NOBODY But Kang Jaysus..."

In the words of our immortal drawstring compatriots and ambassadors of overexpressive hip gyrating melodies: Don't talk. Just listen.

There are moments, dear fans, when despite my obvious skills at divining the motives of assorted coons, it's clear to me that commentary is simply not needed to interpret the fuckshit. In other words:

 I AIN'T EVEN GOT TO TELL YOU WHAT THE PROBLEM IS HERE.

She be like:

 

and I be like...

So help me, this baby ain't got not NE'ER type of a chance...

PS: Expect to see the Cat AND his Hat on Maury - 'cause I'm 10 THOUSAND percent sure he IS the father! *starts doing the Ricky Bobby for good measure*

Sly Stone is homeless, badly dressed and oh yes BATSHIT CRAZY (but you knew that)

This is what WTF is all about.


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.”

This now? Primetime Deion Sanders is ... hanging on (Girl, it's a paycheck!)

No words. Just thoughts. And what I'm thinking is:

SO THIS IS WHAT WE'RE DOING NOW DEION SANDERS???

Yeah, this is what we're doing now.





Bless Neon Deion Sanders heart.

Black woman author has book about ... Girl, just look at the picture and the Youtube!

I'm just gonna go ahead and let the beat rock on this one.

Friday Fail: Da Brat Launches Her Comeback Tour Tonight In Atlanta! (Insert blank stare...)

Da Brat Starts her Comeback Tour! Guuuuuuuurl....

Who says the rapture didn't happen!

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.

Ashe.

For real tho? Lil Wayne/Jennifer Lopez Team for New Video

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...

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:

Love & Hip Hop |Olivia Longott |Somaya Reece |Mashonda Tifrere

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.

Ginuwine compares Aaliyah to Beyonce (A THN "Ninja Please" moment)

Awww damn, Ginuwine is flaring up again. I keep telling you, no matter how long it's gone, and no matter how smooth the skin looks, you got to keep taking the pills and using the cream-gel, or else your Ginuwine is gonna come back.

You would think they would have a cure for this by now.

He tells AOL's Boombox

"Aaliyah was in a class by herself," Ginuwine tells The BoomBox. "If you're talking triple threat of a writer, singer and actress, that would probably be Beyoncé. If Aaliyah were still here, she and Beyoncé would be neck and neck."

Oh Elgin. Why you still bringing up old shit?


Aaliyah is dead.
Lauryn Hill has gone bananas.
Sighted women are having sex with Gucci Mane.
And Rihanna is strangely a star for something that doesn’t involve a pole or the words “clap clap.”

Life sometimes can be confusing. You may find yourself frightened in a world that seems strange and disorienting, much like Chris Brown’s new blond hair. But we got to just move on with our lives boo!

And with that in mind, I urge you to duck back down into your mole hole Elgin – because it has NOT gone unnoticed that you are still trying to séance your career back to life (you didn’t think this whole post was about Aaliyah? Girl bye, she’s in another dimension drinking Lokos and plucking her nose hairs right now – wholly unbothered).

No, this post is actually about the sudden Ginuwine outbreak. Don’t get THN wrong – back in the “In Those Jeans” days, Elgin was ridin’ high. That video was DOOOOOPE. But lest we forget from whence my shade floweth, let me just remind you of THIS little incident the other month:



Many doves cried over that one.

Until Mr. ‘wine decides to make reasonable music befitting a man of his advanced age, I will continue to remind him of his Code Lavendar irrelevance status and warn him not to leave his home again. You are a ghost. And ghosts have to stay in Phantasmagora.

As you were.

Mashonda (and her crotch) cover King Magazine

I said in my heart that I wasn’t going to go there with this.

That I was just going to keep seeing the Twizzler-themed Wonder Woman redux picture splashed across the Interweb and avert my eyes. That I was going to ignore Mashonda’s obvious grab for dominance of the superhero couture fashion world and have a glass of milk and a prayer instead.
But I. Just. Can’t.

Someone, anyone, explain to me what in the 15-inch crotch, tape-tuck HAYLE is going on in this picture? Is Mashonda coming out as intersexed or something? Because that tuck is implying that there’s a little something going on in the belfry, if ya know what I mean. (Eh? Eh? Am I right! Ahhh whatever.) And why are her thighs squoze together this way? Does she need to pee?

Does she have a baby crowning? Don’t just sit there snappin’ booty shots – get this woman to an ob/gyn!

I like thickness. Everyone likes thickness. When have you heard someone say something like “Send this milkshake back, it’s too damned thick!” or “Could you please thin my hair out stylist, it’s too thick!” or “I would love Steve Harvey, but his moustache/lips/nose/accent/fade is too thick!” (shade fever)

Anyways, I say that to say, this is not a question of thickness, so no shade is being thrown at her honeybaked thighs. The laser precision side eye is being directed toward the obvious disrespect that King Magazine has for my status as an esteemed graduate of kindergarten. How you have a 44Z cup, Lane Bryant thighs and a Tweety Bird waist boo? Yeah, that doesn’t really happen.

Angel Lola Luv you say? Buffy the Body you say? Nicki Minaj you saaaaay?

Again I repeat – that shat does NOT really happen. Now sheisty queens swindling unwitting broads out of their coins and into a lifetime of latex poisoning care of dirty needles and Avon-style bootie “enhancement” parties? ? Now THAT happens ALL THE TIME.

Meanwhile, am I the only person who recalls THIS Mashonda over the past 32 summers:


(and don't think for a SECOND the ash on that knee has escaped my sight...)


I will overlook you going from Hershey to Original Recipe in the skin tone department. But the Blood of the Lamb won’t let me ignore that your girls look a lot less “vavavavoooom” and much more “napping quietly after a hot toddy.”

I would hum swing low sweet chariot, but that would just be tired.

Photoshop won’t let my ocular nerves be great. At. All.

*shrug* I just thought somebody should know.

(PS: Bitch if you only KNEW the glamosity of the leotard I have on under this suit you would understand how foolish it is for Mashonda to ever think she could mean ANYTHING to the high fashion superhero game. *swirls cape and stomps off in silver knee-high boots*)

Small screen fuggery: Love and Hip Hop debuts Monday (clip - and community shame - inside)

Love & Hip Hop |Olivia Longott |Somaya Reece |Mashonda Tifrere

“My name is Chrissy and Jim Jones is my man.”

Jesus keep me near to thee.

Well don’t just stand there with a KFC Mighty Wing in your hand and a Q-tip hanging out your ear -- dial up Red Cross or toss a bucket of cold water in this bitch face or shake her real hard or something – that was a cry for help if I’ve ever heard one!

From The Root:

Love & Hip Hop, premiering Monday evening, will follow the lives of four women bonded by their connection to the hip-hop world through their men and their careers.

I'll just go ahead and addend that to include that the four women are the girlfriends of Fabolous, Jim Jones, Some Other No-Count Ninja and oh yeah, (N)Olivia, that G-Unit broad 50 and them tried to shazzam us with a few summers back.

To quote a panelist at a recent forum I shaded attended: This is nothing but a trap from Satan!

In the era of Basketball Wives, Football Wives, Housewives of Atlanta, New Jersey, Beverly Hills, New York, North Kakalakee and Sri Lanka, I guess it was only a matter of time before a “Sidepiece Jump Offs of Washed Up Former Rappers Currently Workin’ Down At The Carwash” type reality docu-soap popped off.

And yet, for some reason, my soul won’t let me believe a person would voluntarily have sex with Jim Jones. Not without some sort of body condom. I won’t act like I haven’t shook my bon bon to Pig Pen’s musical stylings in “Blow Your Smoke.” I just don’t want that ninja standing next to me.

He looks like he smells of vagrancy, Black and Milds, cheap cologne, E&J, lint and booty chips. In that exact order. AND I bet the back of his neck is dirty all to be damned.

But I digress.

There are some fairly grievous offenses here, not the least of which being (N)Olivia’s presence overall (Side note: there should really be some sort of G-Unit recovery program. 50 Cent is about as bad as P-Diddy when it comes to tossing former “stars” against the wall like a well-used condom, but I guess he’s busy trying to figure out how he’s gonna keep his own self in men’s camisoles nowadays. Meanwhile Young Buck is busy worrying about the future of his anal cavity... ).

Then there's the entire weave situation (it’s generally bad when your hair resembles spun sugar or one of those Italian pasta nests).

And let's not forget said Jones jumpoff trying to mollywop a broad in a random Den of Despair strip club about two minuts into the clip, all whilst sporting a halter top and a Jolly Rancher red bra that gives all kinds of “I got it at Ross” tea.

Those are all just the basic offenses one expects at this level of coonery.

The truest fuckery emerges when Jim Jones describes his employment as a hustler – which he spells, for the record “H-U-S-L.”

This promises to offer a smorgasbord of coonery the likes of which might very well raise Coretta, Martin AND Malcolm from the grave.

*Tosses hands up and walks away from life *

Da Brat is out and her milkshake is intact (Macarena celebration jam Saturday!)

(Does anyone else get a "not without my Herpecin!" vibe from this pic? I'm just sayin. Valtrex is an option.)

Let me start by stating the obvious: Until all of my sisters are free from the horror of cheap wigs, none of us has truly overcome.

Anywho, while I was in the bathroom "reducing," the gays sneaked this on me. Mmmhmm Da Brat (yes, the 36-year-old yesterapper who is clinging to 1993 like the last scoop of chitlins in the bowl)is out. Awwwwww snap - Cleveland pride is gonna be CRUNK this year!!!!

Meanwhile, where was CNN to cover this???? FUCKIN. UP.

From Boombox:

Fresh off her release from prison, Da Brat is excited to get back into the swing of things. The female rapper is prepping tons of new projects including new music, a book, and getting up to speed on Twitter. Earlier this week, the 36-year-old completed a three-year bid for assaulting a waitress with an alcohol bottle back in 2007, and her new found freedom has changed her outlook on just about everything.

Insert booming Wizard of Oz laughter. Am I truly an evil to the core bitch for keekeeing my shoes clean off my feet at every third word in this paragraph? PS: 10 packs of cigarettes says the book title involves the words "relevance" "struggle" and "pork chop."

Speaking of which, I could've sworn I had ordered a pork chop drop for her release.

Exactly three years to the day Monday, sweet, sticky slabs of meat were supposed to rain down over the prison exit millionth-customer style; I knew Shawntae would look to the heavens, open her mouth and thank me for the show of solidarity. *Cue SWV Rain video*

Whatevs. More please:

Da Brat spoke with xxlmag.com about her newfound freedom after being released from prison on Monday, Feb. 28. Now the rapper is discussing what life was like behind bars and how she was the top dog on every cell block.

Uh oh. This is veering. The wheel is turning. Slowly. Slowly. Yes - IT HAS OFFICIALLY GONE TO THE LEFT OF SANITY.

Man, they kept me on lockdown there because they all would be singing my song. They would be in a line and I’d walk through that joint and they would be like ‘what do you like.’ And,the officers would be like ‘yo, yo fall in line,' but they wouldn’t listen,” said Brat. “... They shipped me outta there in a week.”

Ehh hemmm. I see. Yes. Shipped you out. Pandemonium you say?

It was crazy! I mean all the officers and counselors told me that the girls never bought so much makeup and got in trouble for tight pants,” explained Brat. “It was so funny. I was rollin’ off that s---. Everybody was trying to be homies and friends. Wash my clothes, do my hair, and just everything. I was a boss b---- in that m-----------.

Judge not lest ye be judged - Da Brat just wants you to know her milkshake still brings all the girls to the yard! Mmmmmk. Something tells me the only thing she got in trouble for was hoarding Cup O'Noodles, galavanting around in Lil Bow Wow braids and just generally refusing to leave the Clinton era and enter the Obama years.

But you didn't hear that from me.

If she starts coming for Nikki Minaj (Booty Mirage) talm bout her stolen "shine" Japanese ritual suicide won't be far behind for me.

Bury me a G.

Al Sharpton turns down Dancing With The Stars - Again (All kinds of shat wrong with this)

From TMZ:

Rev. Al Sharpton just turned down ANOTHER offer to join "Dancing with the Stars" ... but not because he's scared of the competition -- in fact, Al insists, "I've got moves ... I'D BLOW 'EM OUT!!"

BLANK STARE. I GOT NOTHING

I mean, I guess I never figured this dude for doing a mean G5 or crankin' dat solja boy or tearing it up on the "Hit Dat Hoe" so I had no idea he was being heavily courted by DWTS which, btw, I consider the dumbest shat ever. I don't care if Master P can dance! I wanna know when I'm gonna get more Mama Mia beats! (that was low) Anywho, there's video to allegedly prove Sharpton's James Brownesque skills.



At the risk of having the remaining corner of my black African-American negro of color membership card immediately shredded I'm gonna go ahead and say that I have never, EVER understood the obsession with James Brown dancing.

Seem like he's just shuffling his feet to me! Hell I can slide around in some hard bottoms - did that shat at Shoppers Food Warehouse the other day!

Whatevs.

Fried, dyed and laid to the side - A "because I can" moment

Tell the DJ bring it back.


No, you don't get any type of explainer on this shat. I'm posting this just because I'm an out of control negress who should never have been freed and certainly shouldn't have been given Interweb access.

I just want you to marinate in it.

Meagan Good wants to play Whitney Houston (Kleenex available)

From Necole Bitchie


Let me just come out of the closet in saying that I absolutely have stood by Meagan Good through all of her many, MANY fashion missteps, errant hairstyles and tragic "acting." Why? Because I believe in my heart that she is simply a bad, bad batch and will one day inherit my pancake goddess crown.

But this sheat right chea? I mean, when you start talking about wanting to play Whitney Houston in a biopic? I just about spit my bland ass McDonald's oatmeal out, Three Stooges style (side note: Don't buy that shat. Ever.)

From an upcoming Vibe interview care of Necole Bitchie:

I’m kind of coming to the acceptance that [playing Aaliyah] maybe that might not happen.

You know I'm gonna go ahead and stop right there. Because as much as I love that heau, Aliyah tweren't nobody to be dreaming of playing. Hell, the batch was only alive for 21 years and spent half of that being lambasted as R-Kelly's potentially cross eyed nutsac minder. REAL. TALK.

Oh but there's more.

Right now, I’m focused on doing Whitney Houston’s life story. That’s my personal dream role. I grew up with Ray J. I know a lot of people that know her. I think it’s something that can definitely be a realization should I sit down with her and start developing it. Even though I know her story’s definitely not done by any means, I think what she’s already been through and to come out on the other side is a story all in itself.

Girl stop the world's rotation right. this. INSTANT. Booming Wizard of Oz-like laugh.

And there you have it. Somewhere, someone truly let this child of god down. When your goal is to play Whitney Houston - a role that will almost certainly involve diving into a piling of white powder or falling head first from a stage, I mean, there's really nothing else that can be said.

No. No I'm not going to leave it at that. If Tatiana Ali can be resurrected from the depths of 1991 to have that tired ass "Look what I can do with Sony Vegas 9" TV show (show in airquotes) then we can get Megan a job.

Who will join me in this today? I'm talkin' full on - rallies, prayer circles and possibly heading down to Alabama for a march across the Pettus bridge. We can't allow this!

First they came for Chipotle and we said nothing. Then they came for Meagan Good and we said nothing. What's next?????

Put down those pig's feet and DO SOMETHING!

Fashion police moving violation #234: Psychadelic dungaree theft

Well sho' ya right.

Look at the picture above. Now look at this picture:



Now back at the first picture.

Now at me:



I've stood by idle, as Kimberly Jones has abused padded panties, shat all over the dynasty of immaculate pancake makeup Lil Richard spent years building and made an obvious mockery of Jermaine Jackson-style facial reconstruction.

But I draw the LINE at the theft of intergallactic fashion. Bootsy Collins has spent countless blood, sweat and glitter on building his wardrobe of Huggy Bear stack shoes and tin foil pasties.

Was it all for naught???

Meanwhile, a very large and I suspect very cranky camel is somewhere missing its toes.

In the immortal words of one of my readers: Shiggity. Wiggity.

Great travesties in black film: The Heart Specialist (the devil is a liar!)

All. Star. Cast.

While you all were busy analyzing Linethia's RHOA hair sculpture, they slipped the above on us.

How glorious will this be? Take a peek and tell me:




In the name of the father, son, holy ghost and Sherman Helmsley, I want to say I officially BIND everybody involved with this. The actors. The directors. The writers. The grips. The people in charge of teasin' Marla's wigs and attaching her to the system of ropes and pullies that's surely keeping her ancient ass upright.

I will, however, send an economy sized bag of cheetos and a jar of Blue Magic to the makeup artist who spackled Jasmine Guy. Making her look 50 is truly a feet that deserves a danish or a Soul Train award or some type of recognition.

Haven't heard of this one? Apparently you're not the only one: While this is allegedly supposed to come out in two weeks (In theatres. In North America.) it still hasn't been rated.

Where they do THAT at?

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, what pre-Armageddon planetary alignment has occured that created this particular slate of black "stars" (cough)? Mya and Method Man is already TRYING IT. Marla Gibbs, Terence J and Jennifer Lewis made me take my belt off.

But did they conjure up LEON???

I won't take on Avon Barksdale, since I know times have been hard since The Wire went night night, but I must give a misty side eye to Ed Asner. Dayum, what's REALLY going on there!

Again, I say, I BIND thee! The devil is a liar! This ain't over - expect to hear from my lawyer AND my ancestors behind this shenaniganry. Now let's just see which one of you all goes to see it. Tell ya what, you do that, and I'll be at home doing this:



GIFSoup

Last-minute stocking stuffer: "Subs" garter belt keeps saggy pants off the ground

Do. Not. Want. (Why the model gotta be black tho'???)




(Photo from Hatchventures.com)

CNN Reports:

Feeling frustrated with your sagging pants? Trying to achieve the perfect level of sagginess without your jeans falling to the ground? Well, does Harlem inventor Andrew Lewis have just the product for you!

Introducing "Subs" -- part garter belt, part suspenders. Perhaps part genius. For only $29.95, you or your loved ones can avoid a wardrobe malfunction and "feel free," just like the strapping Subs model.

Pardon me while I die.

Negro Please Alert: Michael Vick wants a family dog (with video)

Michael Vick: A new dog could help my rehabilitation



Sometimes my ability to throw shade escapes me - no rest for the weary as long as some of Us are around. I'm just gonna go sit in a rocking chair, lay a blanket over my lap and cling to the old rugged cross on this one.

How low can she go indeed: Bobbi Kristina hits the spiral

Jesus be a warm glass of milk.

The wild child daughter of Whitney Houston and Bobby Brown is going party-crazy – and sources say her train-wreck parents have now stepped in to try to prevent her from developing addiction problems like them.

I'm not really surprised by this at all - I mean, you get Bobby Brown's sneer and you're bound to get his other ways. (Sidenote: How long before his gut arrives under her Christmas tree as well...)

I'm just trying to understand why DFACS or some agency hasn't stepped in here a long time ago, you know, back when I'm pretty sure they had this poor child sweeping up remnants of their Tony Montagna-eque piles of cocaina following nightlong snow parties.

This child of the kingdom has been through enough. So I'll let that A&P weave slide, along with any attendant questions about the bikini selection and her choice of "pose" (BodyMagic much?)

PS: This part= YAAAAAS.

... parents have now stepped in to try to prevent her from developing addiction problems like them.

Toss the flowers on the casket now!