Video Inside: White child dresses as MLK for school = Chile, bye.

Fugshat ensues after Dr. Martin Luther King costume is ill-received (extended sigh)

 "I like black people - I don't want to be mean to them. It's just a costume!" - Errant caucasian dressed as Dr. Martin Luther King.
Could someone please direct me immediately to the hem of sweet White Jaysus's garment? I need something to cling to during times like this.

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:

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...

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.”

Police: Burglars Bypassing Cash, Stealing Wet and Wavy Weave Nationwide

Police: Criminals Ignoring Cash, Stealing Thousands in Remy Weave Nationwide

I hate every last thing about this – and I especially hate that the first image that popped into my head was that of a Set It Off style showdown, complete with Vivica Fox getting brain juice splattered on her chin for being too slow on the gotdamned register.


*Stop screaming and put the Sensationnel 22-inch party ponytail in the bag - I got BINGO tonight whore!*

According to The New York Times (More on their devolution into chroniclers of elite coonery later…):

(The thieves) "did not give the safe or cash register a second look.
Instead they went straight for what was most valuable: human hair...During the past two months alone, robbers in quest of human hair have killed a beauty shop supplier in Michigan and carried out heists nationwide in which they have made off with tens of thousands of dollars of hair at a time. “

Note to The Weave Shop: Invest in copious Biz Markie portraits pit bulls TODAY!

I'm telling you straight off: Iffen I end up dead on the floor of "Thank Jaysus The Loan Came Through Miraculous Heavenly Hands Beauty Salon and Check Cashing" behind some Beyonce weave, I'm coming back to haunt ERY damned body, you smell me?

Beyonce weave straight claiming lives. Sensationnel instant weave got folks headed to the drive-thru mortuary.

Logging. Off.

I knew wet and wavy weave was destroying this community one scalp at a time. But I figured the end would look more like Tamar Braxton’s wig vault or Naomi Campbell’s parched ass hairline as it lays on the salon floor clutching its neck and gasping for air.

I never figured on some Juice type shat behind Remy weave. Bishop play too much!

More here:

In addition to the $150,000 Houston robbery this month, thieves have recently taken $10,000 in hair from a San Diego shop; $85,000 from a business in Missouri City, Tex.; $10,000 from a shop in Dearborn, Mich.; and $60,000 from a business in San Leandro, Calif.

Notice that the Asians aren’t included in this story. Why? Because Wong and them BEEN hip to the Children of the Sun’s fuckery and prepared themselves with an assortment of weaponry for that ass years ago. You make a move on some Remy weave in any Korean-owned, inner city hair mart if you wanna – you’ll have a ninja star in your retina and a numchuck up the ass faster than you can say "Chung’s Weave Emporium-n-Daycare don’t even get down like that son!"

I speak from experience!

I too was about to pull down my ski mask and get crunk and disorderly behind a wet and wavy weave drawstring pony, before I learned that I could dutty wine just as effectively with a head full of Afghan hound as with human hair weave. The more you know! Haters can stay on their job - the kennel has done me well and I haven't had to violate probation.

Why is President Obama chasing after terrorists when we have a crisis of epic proportions right here on American shores??? Gas costs $10,000 a gallon and batches pockets are looking anemic. None of which negates the need for wet and wavy weave splendor.

Sistas gotta work the Beyonce weave out! And that means there will be blood Mr. President. THERE WILL BE BLOOD.



PS: I know in my heart that each Toni Braxton sister is involved with this. Hell, from the looks of those cheap weave catastrophes, I NEED them to be involved with this...

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...

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!

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’…

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.

The Hostile Negress Fashion Ministry Presents: Easter's Finest

Easter is a comin' and if I know my audience like I KNOW my audience, you're all good, Christian, church-goin' folks.

*raises hands to the sky and shouts * EYEEEEAH GLORY!!!!!!

We all know Easter means just one thing - well maybe a few things something to do with blood of the lamb and resurrection or some jazz - but PRIMARILY one thing: Church. Fashion.



Halleleuuuuujah!


Well we here at THN like to take care of our audience. You don't think I would have you falling up in the pews of Ebenezer Holy Ghost Touched By An Angel Bethanny Bible Holy Gospel Trinity AME lookin' a hot steamy mess do you? No - my soul won't allow it!I put my Fashion Ministry on the case and dug up some looks for you (call me at 424-555-2033-30303 for deets)

You don't have to thank me - I do it for the love of the game:



Killin' 'em oh so softly with the lavendar...


Better yet the magenta (all magenta ERYTHANG game proper...)


Shittin' on these batches from high above...


...and layin' batches down low with the hat game! (Cicely Tyson stand BACK.)

And last but not least, I'm gonna toss a little bonus in there for ya:


BLAM!

Ok, that last one was just some seedy tea I tossed in there because I'm a pure bastard in my heart. But I promise if one of you all shows up to Easter services with Patra's old errand-running braid wig on, I will drop and give you 50 ON THE SPOT.

In the interim between now and THAT particular episode, feel free to call me about any of the above fashions, and make sure to work on your calesthenics in preparation for the annual aisle dance.

EYEEEEEAHHH GLORY!

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*)

New Ginuwine Video (mmmhmmm, that's what I said...)

*consider my pearls CLUTCHED*


I will temporarily disregard the fact that this man is clearly wearing a wedding suit ... or that these video heaux appear plucked from Lennox Mall ... or that from the looks of this "set" (In Riley voice: Real niggas don't have budgets!) some family in Ft. Washington, Md. was PISSED when they came home from vacation.

I can set all of that aside.

But did this ninja just say “You are my driiiiiiiiiiiink of choice"??????

Did he just say “I take you straaaaaaaaaaight with no chaser”????????

Because I’m about to break the glass on this cyanide pill I keep in my purse, if that is indeed the case.

Look into their eyes -

THE ANCESTORS ARE NOT AMUSED ELGIN!!!!!!

You know, I’m a firm believer of knowing when to fold ‘em. And when you last were a poster on someone’s dorm room wall in the previous millennium, I would argue that a fold is necessary.

Ok, Ok, let me be fair. I think it’s great that the stars of my pre-period high school years are finding their way back to the spotlight. I mean hayle, nuccas gotta eat and Softsheen Carson “Curl Control!” activator ain’t free. Plus this ninja has like, 40 kids with that hatchet-faced model wife of his, so he has to do something. It was either this or some Bojangles action down at the Jay Street Burroughs station and that’s currently MY plan C, and I DO NOT need a sidekick.

But I'm just saying: Whatever happened to the days when artists would just do the quiet, dignified fade away? They would realize that their time had come and gone, step to the left of the camera, and discretly fade into a life of alcohol abuse and eventual death in their bathtub. KIDDING! But seriously, folks like Teddy Riley and Michael Bivens kept it cute – transitioning into gigs as producers and writers, collecting their cheese and not making purety dingle donkeys of themselves being on the stage at 52 gyrating for jaysus.

Don’t nobody wanna ride your AARP pony boo.

I even heard from my good friend Blue over at bluecentric.com that Dru Hill is trying for a comeback. And that just hurts, you know what I’m saying?

I mean, DAMN, can’t I have my freshman college year memories intact? Nevermind that JLo is still holding on with - you guessed it - a new video! With Pitbull even!

When the Bar Kays make a come back, I'll know I've been changed.

Kidney transplant sisters released from Mississippi jail might be headed back behind Newports, pork rinds (Eff. Life.)

Sooooo, remember those ladies who were like, in jail for 10 million years or something because they stole a pair of draws but it was really because they were black and then they got out and the slaves all sang and the massa bought out a big pineapple upside down cake? This happened like, last month. Well whatevs, them batches is going back to jail!

From CBS:

There's a "complication" in the case of Mississippi ex-convicts sisters Jamie and Gladys Scott, who won their release from life prison terms on the grounds that one sister would give the other a kidney.

What is it? What could it be? Was there a loophole in the legal work? Is some racist judge accusing them of stealing Slim Jims now?

Nah boo. It comes down to Newports.

Jamie Scott said Wednesday that a doctor said she has to lose 100 pounds to receive the transplant. She said would-be donor Gladys must lose 60 pounds and stop smoking.
Barbour hasn't said whether he'll send the sisters back to prison if the transplant doesn't happen.

*In Martin Lawrence voice* Hole up. Hole up. Didn't I march for your ass with the signs and ERYTHANG? So now you basically telling me you have to curb the honeybaked ham sammiches and put the brakes on the Virginia Slims or your asses is going back to the jaily jail? AFter I wore down my loafers???

Looks at sisters:


Looks at honeybaked ham sammich:




They're going to jail



(Note: You KNOW I'm gonna use that punchbowl jawn whenever possible. I. Love. That. Shat.)

And still I gag: This week's Foxy Brown moment

This:

According to TMZ, the female emcee was scheduled to perform on Wednesday (February 16th) at a Fashion Week event for designer Indashio that didn't go over so well with the party planners. The event was a fashion show after-party at New York City’s Red Bull Space. Foxy showed up minutes before the event closed, at 1:20 AM the next day (February 17th) completely intoxicated.

Foxy then locked herself in one of the restrooms and refused to come out. She was physically removed by a security guard and escorted off the premises.

I don't EVEN have time to be creative with this. I'm gonna start slapping these posts about The Truly Outrageous World of Inga Marchand up with about as much care and consideration as she shows toward her eyeliner.

Anyway, the crowning jewel of the evening, according to MissJia, was this:


Get. Your. Glamour. Shots. AWWWWWWNNNN!

This is all pretty rote - predictable and mechanical, you know, sorta like Rihanna's stage performances always being a chop. But what IS interesting is the notion of Foxy having a paying job and just who was ready to throw some coins on the table for a "performance" almost certain to start with Henny and end before a magistrate?

Well, wondering just what this Indashio was and whether s/he was on the same yayo as The Fox, I did a little sniffing around. I discovered a web site and pix that were quite ovah.

But like all coonery, the shazzam finally set in in the form of an "About Indashio" page that set me wayyyy back in my effort to stop coonin' and get my day started.

Celebrities that adore INDASHIO include Amber Rose, Aubrey O'day, Amerie, Amanda Lepore, Christina Milian, Eve, Kat De Luna, Kelis, Kim Kardashian, Lindsey Wixson, Lil'Kim, Nicky Hilton, Patricia Field, Sessilee Lopez, Selita Ebanks, Shontelle, Theodora Richards, Tyra Banks, Vanessa Carlton, Vivica Fox to name a few.

*screeeeeech*

Come get your stuff and don't call me. No mo.

VH1 show featuring *cough* Jim Jones battles with Baltimore Inmate Wives for settin' back the race dominance

I'm gonna put down my goblet of cranapple and level with you: I had zero intention of posting a daaaaaamn thing this evern, especially since I see that certain ungrateful negreaux (this means you man in the mirror) fall way off when a sistah isn't supplying you with a continuous stream of coonanigans.

Mmmmhmmm. 75 hits when I conjure up tails of weaves gone wrong. And one hit when a batch takes a nap. Shat like this is why I'm joining the Klan.

But 'tis Black History Month. And I have duties to find gems of fuggery for the masses. It just so happens that today, care of Miss Jia and my fave Crunk and Disorderly booka Freshalina, I have happened upon a trove indeed.

Now, and I remember when there used to be something called scripted TV. But nowadays all it takes is a wonk eye and a bad quick weave (hey NeNe!) and you're a "star." And THAT is precisely what's to blame for Baltimore Inmate Housewives. And I swear to Big Baby Osiris Jesus that I wish I made this up.



I ABSOLUTELY demand that you direct your eyes to the background ambiance. Did someone just empty their purse everywhere in that house? It smells like catfish and coconut hairgrease in there. That's not an interrogative - I'm presenting that as a solid, verified statement.

Not to be outdone by the likes of Charm City, VH1 is polishign off some elite jungleboogie fuckery - and you KNOW it's real when Mashonda AND Olivia are involved.

VH1 TV Shows | Music Videos | Celebrity Photos | News & Gossip

I almost peed - did this heaux just ask Jim "Keep soap alive" Jones to marry her? Jim "15'oclock Shadow" Jones? Jim "Bump be gone ain't do shat for my throat" Jones?? THAT NIG????

I refuse to address his basso profundo-voiced moms besides saying that I want to see her, Frankie and Alan Iverson's mama in a cage match IMMEDIATELY.

Negrodamus told me that this will be the most outrageous February yet. And if this continues, I may end the month in adult diapers.

Don't judge. They'll be kente cloth.

Red Alert Coonery: Cocaine, meet pastry

Photo care of Necole Bitchie

I knooooow you see it. I'm so tempted to just slap this photo up here and allow you to self-tragedize. But that would be neglecting my duties as sergeant in arms against the spread of foolwangary and a publically elected documentor of coonanigans (Trademarked).

Soooo, I was in the midst of my normal morning routine as of late - downing of a mug of vodka while mumbling bitterly about The Man and perusing the latest submissions for Coon of the Year, when I stumbled upon the above photo, snapped at Ray J's 30th birthday.

Ray J. Yes, that. We won't delve into how he remains relevant anywhere on planet Earth; I will leave these mysteries to be solved by the likes of Stephen Hawkings, who has recieved a detailed WTF query.

Anywho, I was just about to move on when something about the cake caught my eye: Are those cocaine bricks atop the cake???

Nevermind that this fool would be summarily ground into a fine powder and distributed by the likes of Gucci Mane iffen he EVER set foot in an establishment peddling such bricks. (I won't even begin to address the "Pure" sign...) Nevermind that he has no familiarity with the monetary currency represented on the cake.

No, those are the obvious offenses. The real question is who made the cake? I thought Desserts by Latrell was closed?

And at this point, dear readers, I shall fold up my laptop, fold myself into 44 pieces, and await the mushroom cloud.

I suggest you do the same.

Thank goodness they weren't black moment: Hammer vs. Stick robbery

Every now and again I come across a piece of fuggery and think to myself "Glory be, I'm so glad my cousins weren't involved!" This epic drama, sugarplums, is just such an item:




I'm sure if you're Mustafa dusting off old pantyhose and rearranging stale hotdogs on the third shift at Gas n Go, there ain't much funny about this. But for the rest of us this is the reason for the season indeed.

A few study questions:

- Why'd he come bursting through the door weilding that branch like a double shotty?
- Exactly how was the hammer going to be effective?
- How did he even GET that big ass miniature tree?
- Why the bags on the feet???

Jesus take the wheel.

Queen Latifah gives Kate Middleton (that's the would-be queen of England or something) advice on being a royal

Mmmmhmmm. I DID bring that hat up.

For those of us not completely versed in the world of white people news, Prince Harry or Charles or whichever of Diana's two sons is getting married to one Kate Middletown, AKA some other immensely wealthy white person who has little to no relevance in my daily quests for hot sauce and pigs feet.

Where I DO become interested is the point at which Dana Owens decides to rely on her extensive first hand experience as a "royal" - cough stutter - to advise the young couple:

From NBC Los Angeles:

"Make sure you have a sanctuary, because everybody in the world is going to be in your business,” she advised to Middleton. "He happened to be born a prince; you happened to go to college and meet him. You're two kids who fell in love. I just hope you have a happy life. And don't take anything personally."

From her throne to your ears. I'm glad Dana had time to reflect on this in between the more important things in her life, namely, securing her pride season appearances and working on her line of extra wide shouldered, women's blazers.

I would say I hope she's touched by an angel soon, but I'll settle for her just not flipping another of those lamp shades onto her head in 2011.