Faithful fuggery: Jaysus is like soup and thangs...

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...

Love and Hip Hop: The Case Against Chrissy Lampkin's Linebacker Ass...

Let's start with the most obvious question -



WHERE THE HELL HAS THN BEEN???????

Two words: Rikers. Island.

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.

And there you have it!

Video Inside: Love and Hip Hop Preview (It's raining fugnuggets and honey...)

Jim. Jones. Mama.

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.

Imbibe:

Get More: Love And Hip Hop

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 Launches Search Engine (We've got to pray...)

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:

Soul 4 Real to Perform at Atlanta Prom; Also scheduled: Several unplanned, over 40 pregnancies...

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:

Video: X Factor's Prince doppelganger is coming to a TV near you! (And he's bringing his nuthuggers and his fiercest wrap...)

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.

If you won't do it for me


Do it for Mother Nick.


Ashe.

Michael Jackson had herpes????

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.

From TMZ:

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."

Excuse me while I take this to Kang Jaysus...