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!

BREAKING: Earth tries to kill The Hostile Negress! (Tired queen...)

SHITCRAP, Md. (FNN) - The Hostile Negress escaped uninjured Tuesday after The Earth, a skew-eyed moldy femme queen of the tiredest variety, attempted to shake her like a Polaroid picture, authorities said.

Reached by the Fuggery News Network, The Hostile Negress said that Earth "has been trying me for decades" and promised that "this clear attempt on my life will be avenged batch.
"It's not my fault your weave is asymmetric. Proper, honorable weaves are available to all Americans. You've made your hairline choices. Trying to Harlem-shake a sista to death is pointless!"

Lesbian charged after beating partner with strap on penis/dildo

Police: Lesbian couple argued before dildo domestic violence (doves crying)

When I tell you nights like this I wish raindrops would fall...


First of all, Georgia folks, you can relax: This is some bonafide Florida Fuggery, so you're off the hook this time. Second of all, Popeye's I need you to screen your employees better! If this sister is laying her Ike Turner smack down with the silicon sausage, I have some SERIOUS questions about what she might be doing with the extra crispy drums.

You'd better stop and think about it!

Video: Watch Patti LaBelle Stir It Up with Chaka Khan, Whitney Houston, Maya Angelou, Whitney Houston and friends (Spoiler: No wigs were tilted...)

Who knew that the pre-eminent divas of negress womanhood all gathered at Patti LaBelle’s chamber of sequins for marmalade, heel kicking and other random voulez-vous shenanigans? And more importantly:

Where the fug were the invites for me and Ciara?


We invested in copious Beyonce weave and had our Adam’s apples shaved down in advance and we get nada – no ribs, no Glory green goodness? Patti Labelle if only you knew: Brother CiCi ain’t happy. I would invest in a shield if I were you – her femurs are long and her back is country strong!



Take note batch!


Fortunately, the entire soiree was memorialized on YouTube for us nonfactors to bask in the glory of their golden weaved excellence digitally – Beyonce, Diana Ross, Mariah Carey, Aretha Franklin, Chaka Khan, Rihanna, Janet Jackson, Whitney Houston (Nippy if you’re nasty- THN) all are there spilling tea, swinging ponytails and taking names.

Phenomenal woman ( ?) Maya Angelou even spits a verse in Nipsy Russel register – GLORY!

Sadly, The Braxtons were left out on the porch holding Halloween pails and wondering how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie pop – you know, the norm for their Saturday evening. (If only they would repent of their wet and wavy weave sins they too could be welcomed into the kabal…)

Hit play, clutch the hem of His garment and prepare to let the shade blow your hair back!

(Spoiler: Favorite quotes would be a tie between “You look like you ate Eve AND Adam’s apples” and “Hakuna Matada bitch!”)

CNN: Black Women Tired of Having Hair Touched

Lawd jaysus, jaysus lawd.

While I've been over here brainstorming on gifts appropriate for a woman's 74th baby (I got you Lauryn, trust) C(oon)N(ews)N(etwork) has sneaked out another riveting examination of the lifestyles of Kunta's cousins!

This time it's provocatively titled "Can I touch it?" and it has absolutely nothing to do with Jermaine Jackson or his Braille-inspired cheeks.

Rather it's an examination of why certain people insist on touching black women's natural hair.

It opens with the recounting of a "close call" (Heather reaches out to touch afro puff, Shawnte pulls out numchuks, police intervene) and goes on to talk about how many black women have thrown their boxes of Optimum to the wind and are instead letting their natural whodunits out to play:

Rather than use chemical straighteners known as relaxers (also sometimes called "creamy crack" for both the damage it can do to black hair as well as the inability of some women to live without it) YOU TRIED THAT - Love, THN some women wear their hair in its natural state.
Natural hair can be described as curly, kinky, wavy, or -- the sometimes dreaded and considered by some to be an offensive word -- nappy. FURTHER CHEST CLUTCH - Love, THN

The story goes on to discuss how the act of trying to touch a black woman's hair is inherently racist.

As usual, the Children of the Sun are clearly confused. There's no racism here - rather, this is our white brethren and sistren performing a standard weave check. Sure it's nappy - but is it yourn? Given E Badu's lengthy record of manipulating beard trimmings, pubes and dryer lint into mountains of faux 'fro, can you really blame The Whites for being confused about whether your naps are your own? Kelly wasn't trying to embarrass you Bookika - she was just keepin' things authentic!

Thank you Whites!

As a card carrying owner of Team Busted Combs, I haven't ever had the pleasure of being petted. If I were, however, I like to think I wouldn't consider it so much a moment of cultural dissonance as a fiscal opportunity.

Because you will NAUGHT lovingly caress my naps for free!

Anyways, I'd like to take a moment to thank CNN for it's continued efforts at telling the story of the Children of the Sun. Whether it's informing us that natural hair has indeed come into style (Who knew?!) or confirming that black women remain the most unattractive option for marriage (Phew, I was worried our status might be threatened given the Mexican influx...) CNN remains on top of negro news. Thanks for lettin' us know CNN!

PS: Click the video and have your soul rocked by the Dark and Lovely glory of that Shalamar-era whoop-de-swoop in Honey Glazed Gold - MY SOULLLLLLL!!!!

Today in White Coonery: Armed Robbery at Colorado Bank Involves Bandanna, AIDS Claims and a lot of Coughing

Female Bank Robber to Teller: I've got The AIDS! Gimme your coins!

Is this what we're doing to keep our Serenity overnight pad game tight Barb? Really?

Is this really what armed robbery has come to?

Let me start out by saying to any of you who have even the slightest intention of using the old "I got AIDS bitch!" routine to shake a sista down for her extra packets of deliriously tasty McDonald's limited edition sweet chili nugget sauce: Think Thee Fuck AGAIN!

I already got more diseases than a cheap hotel toilet seat in Calcutta - your HIV would immediately be chewed up, swallowed and summarily shat out in the fom of sugar cubes faster than you can say "platinum jawbones by Coco and Ice T!"

And with that said, I'd like to also preface this with a halleleujah little child - the negreaux are NOT involved with this!

(Naturally the negreaux would threaten a bank teller with something far more menacing - ie. a direct promise to send all of their ratchet cousins over to fill out bank loan apps and generally fuck up everybody's life for the next 24 hours.)

From this Reuters robbery article:

A woman robbed a Colorado bank by passing a note saying she would infect a teller with AIDS if the clerk didn't hand over money, police said on Friday.
Jeff Satur, spokesman for the Longmont, Colorado police department, said detectives are searching for a pale woman between the ages of 55 and 75 with a "boney build."

What kind of description is that? A boney batch between the ages of 55 and 75? Batch that could be Heidi Klum, Linda Evangelista - hell, if she slapped you with a phone it could be Naomi Campbell (only if her hairline reminded you of a depleted rainforest of course.)

More:

"She indicated she had AIDS and would give it to a teller if she didn't cooperate," (officials) said.
The woman coughed frequently into a blue bandana during the robbery, and fled with an undisclosed amount of cash, police said.

Girl that didn't work at the line in Safeway and it won't work in a bank!

You know what, in hindsight, I'm not sure why I would ever have thought the blacks could be involved with this. After all, this person threatened to give a bank teller AIDS by coughing on them = fail. A black teller would have been unmoved by anything other than a threat to run her credit. Now THAT might have resulted in the immediate emptying of the vault, handing over of bank cards and any spare funds from the wet and wavy weave fund on hand.

White coonery is really on the come up!

I will say this much: Given as I keep finding myself sitting next to people smelling like doo doo balls (Suge Knight of Busboys and Poets, I am calling you to. the. mat.) I may need to invest in my own blue bandanna and perfect a Pookie-esque New Jack City-type drawl.

For the cause (of my nostrils).

PS: To the bank robber and Senor Doo Doo Balls:

THN Likely To Close After Rapture (PS: You're Not Invited To Heaven...)

That great getting up morning has finally come! So the world is ending tomorrow.

Eyyyyeahhhh GlORY!

That shat really sneaked up on a sister mane! The movies told me I had at least until 2012. I had so many more tilted wigs to snatch – so many more batches to slap. I’d only gotten up through 1988! Le sigh.

Eh well. It’s really about damned time the credits rolled on this piece. I mean, all the clues have been there – or did you think JLo and her insistence upon making “music” was NOT a sign of end times? I saw two horsemen run behind her in that last video…

Hell, the emergence of Donald Trump as a political contender was directly referenced in the New Testament! (And there shall arise one of withered peen and flapping jowl and he shall wear a crown of dryer lint…)

You’d better check your Revelations heathen!

Since I’m among the hardest Mahalia Jackson fan-flapping jaysus enthusiasts out there (halle-LEU-jah!) , I have no doubt I shall be getting sucked up in the heavenly vortex and doing the cha cha slide with Marvin Gaye around this time tomorrow – you know, while you’re back here enduring all the pestilence and destruction that your persistent abuse of weave products has brought upon you. (I offered you help heathen, and yet you continued to abuse the wet and wavy….)

I must admit that there are a few things I will miss – mostly to do with food products and the joy that comes from telling someone to go to hell (in due time, in due time…) I w ill also miss my cat, who’s been backslidden for years and will NOT be coming to heaven to be entertained by the Winans and served mojitos made from jaysus’ tears.

But there are plenty of things I won’t miss. Among them:

Flo-Rida’s hairline: Among my very few sins has been the negligence I have shown in not giving the full press coverage to one of the most offensive hairlines to emerge in decades. When that man teamed up with Brandy “Invisi-temples” Norwood, it was like a dream team of hairline shazzamery. I truly won’t miss the many furrough-browed nights I’ve spent struggling to divine the mystery of why this man would allow his hairline to be shaped like the letter W.

The Braxton Sisters: As much as I seem to love talking about these graceful creatures and their broomstick weaves, the fact of the matter is that it’s exhausting! I mean, every time I figure I’ve said all there is to say, BOOM, one of them turns up wearing hot pink lipstick with red lipliner and a pineapple shaped quick weave. My soul is weary. As weary as that sideways Pocahontas braid that one child keeps rockin’…

The entire District of Columbia: You know what our problems are. And you’d better be lucky I’m rolling out on the Glory Express tomorrow morning or it would be you and me whorebitch! I’ve got my Vaseline on my cheeks, my rings on my finger and the tiger in my eyes!

Coons: I was speaking to a friend yesterday about why coons continue to populate the earth. It’s like they come from a factory with the world's highest output and no plans on recalls. There’s no way to get rid of them – you shoot coons with a silver bullet, two more spring up. I had just shared with her my idea to rid the world of coons – a gun that shoots jobs instead of bullets… - when I got the telegram that plan “get thee fug out” was indeed going down tomorrow. A great idea that won’t come to fruition. At least I won’t have to deal with coons anymore – that I won’t miss.

Alright well I have packing to do. I hear they will provide me with a svelte robe and golden cord with which to tie it - it's couture, get you a piece slut! – but I’m going to try and sneak my judgey pants in anyway.


Eyeeeeeah glory!

Mid-day Foolywang: Whitney Houston - I'm back in drug rehab, but not for drugs!

UPDATE: Apparently Bobbi Kristina (you know, Whitney Houston's highly successful daughter) could be heading to club muff for something involving guns. Is there some type of miracle water or magic beans or something we can get these folks??? Because when Bobby Brown's yestersexy ass is doing the best in the family, you're beyond the help of Jaysus!

Whitney Houston is back! *whispers* in rehab. (I'm such a faulty person.)

I guess when she said she was clean two years ago, she meant to say dirtier than rapper Jim Jones' period draws. And from the looks of that swarthy ninja, that's pretty damned dirty.

According to CNN, Washington Post and assorted other entities snickering this afternoon:

"Whitney Houston is currently in an out-patient rehab program for drug and alcohol treatment," her rep tells PEOPLE in a statement. "Whitney voluntarily entered the program to support her long-standing recovery process."

Houston initially entered rehab in 2004, telling ABC News interviewer Diane Sawyer at the time: "I partied a lot. Trust me: I partied my tail off." But, the singer also admitted, "You get to a point where you know the party's over."

Now, her spokesperson won't specify just what she's getting treatment for, but sounds to me like Nippy's back up to her "Waiting to Inhale" antics, hitting homerun slides into piles of white magic Tony Montagna-style. In the words of iconic beard enthusiast Teddy Riley, "It. Ain't. Over."

Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm!

Honestly, this confession only shocks you if you a) haven't heard her squawk sing recently, or b) haven't taken a look at the alien-incubator midsection she's been cultivating for the past 15 quarters.

Naturally, I've BEEN on to her: You can't keep slithering into evening dresses with that Somalian-who-just-ate-a-hearty-sammich type figure and not arouse an eyebrow raise on the Hostile One, mkay?

The news follows about two summers of sham wows. It was just 2009 when Whitney Houston tagteamed with Jaysus and Clive Davis to release a new album and declare herself spic and span - a move emphasized by her appearance sans disheveled wig and in sensible shoes. Clive rolled out a cleaned up, fully trussed version of Whitney Houston - it was like Frankie had been run through an all-cloth car wash!

Well apparently either Jaysus couldn't help her or he sold her the rocks. He can be real funny that way! According to media reports she gave an uneven performance at a Dionne Warwick tribute recently and we're all familiar with the "on again, off again" schedule she maintained during her "Nothing But Love" comeback tour a year ago.

Don't these musicians watch The Five Heartbeats? You can't do The Drugs and keep making money!

In any event, I think it's time for Whitney Houston's handlers to accept the inevitable: This once golden-voiced diva has ruined herself and there is, sadly, no chance for a return. She'll come back when Naomi Campbell's hairline does - which will be never.

Instead, I'm suggesting they consider a "Teddy Ruxpin" strategy, in which Whitney Houston (rather than being asked to actually perform) is fitted with an Mp3 player chest panel with a pre-selected playlist for all future concert performances. This relieves the pressure on the faded diva, who will be responsible only for an extra shoulder shimmy and a colorful "I look to you Cleveland! Woohoo!" during each performance, while ensuring audiences are not subject to any type of croaking or other fuggery.



It's an updated Milli Vanilli!


PS: Far be it from me to imply shady dealings, but haven't you noticed that Bobby Brown is back out with music (Nostradamus end times prediction no. 22,300,873) AND there's talk of a Waiting to Exhale sequel? Could this actually be a very elaborate attempt at stealing Stroke Mouth's shine??

Oh Nippy! That's just tired.

Midget Stripper to Star in Rapper Plies Reality TV Series (With Video, of course...)

My mind's telling me no...


Pole dancers take heed - the revolution's a comin' and it has legs shaped like the letter C!

Don't expect me to shade Bushwick Bill's fraternal twin sister for being two apples tall dear readers - not when THN is but an inch taller than Kid from Kid-n-Play's high top fade at it's most elevated!

But I will definitely offer some awning-style extended shade to Plies for being the cultivator, purveyor and fuckery maestro responsible for bringing us this - and doubtless other assorted negro hijinks - through his highly (snort laugh) anticipated reality TV show "The Real Goonette."

I thought Foxy Brown had copyrighted that title???

According to Plies (whose 1998 curly collared polo shirts have set my eyelashes aflutter...) the term applies to "female hustlers" who are getting it "hard in the paint" (!) with style and grace.

And by style and grace, he means with a dollar on their forehead and buttcheek turned up to heaven!

And that's about where Lil V and her jumbo junk badunk comes in. Press play to see (t)highlights from her hot and heavy evenings at Club Toot It and Boot It making it jiggle for school supplies and explaining how she found it hard to obtain mainstream work while living with achondroplasia dwarfism. Her grown up ass on a toddler body steez has landed her gigs in several music videos - so a reality TV series was sure to follow. All I can say is girl preach - stripper jobs beat customer service anyday!


(WARNING: Not safe for life.)

Florida why do I see your fingerprints ALL OVER THIS?????


I can't knock chocolate mini mama's hustle - don't pretend like I'm the only one who's noticed these "Little People, Big World" types tend to have the double wide, extended cab booty game on permanent lock. Why not turn that econo-sized seatwarmer into a piggy bank???

As for her legs being on permanent cowboy stance? Well you can't have everythang! Hell if you know anything about dwarfism you know the leg sitch is part and parcel with the condish - or didn't you wonder why I always look like I'm squattin...

Quietly (and don't ask how I know this) I think Bridget the Midget has all but tapped the lucrative midget sex toy field. But if Lil V is determined, all I can say is swang one of those parentheses lookin' jawns up on that pole and get it how you live boo!

PS: I generally don't listen to Plies and will hold off on getting into why he has a reality TV series in another installation. I'll be needing a double dose of Benadryl and a shot of praise jaysus to sleep tonight as it is...

Indian Tribe to Obama: Why'd You Nickname Osama bin Laden Gerononimo son?

Girl I don't.

Lest you think we here at THN were racist (my commitment to the exposure of The Whites' clear efforts at wresting the lucrative coonery market from the grips of The Blacks should be proof otherwise, but I know you all are shady bastards...) I present some special edition red skin coonery, care of our Native American brothers in fuggery.

From the Daily Beast:

The Fort Sill Apache Tribe asked for an apology Thursday from President Obama for using "Geronimo" as a code name for Osama bin Laden. “Right now Native American children all over this country are facing the reality of having one of their most revered figures being connected to a terrorist and murderer of thousands of innocent Americans,” said Fort Sill Apache Tribal Chairman Jeff Houser. Geronimo is a legend among Apaches and other Native American tribes for fiercely defending his land from the U.S. and Mexican Armies.

Shouldn't you all be somewhere going extinct or something??? Ok that was just TIRED!

*standing in corner picking chitlins from teeth*

Now normally I would wholeheartedly support the agitations of my cherry-skinned brethren - after all, America defined shade by its decimation of their entire community and for that, their eye rolling and tongue clicking stunts are forever justified. However, how are you going to come after President Barack Obama for using Geronimo and not sue the entire Looney Tunes franchise? Because I'm 99.999 percent sure I heard Bugs Bunny or somebody utter about 50-leven "Geronimos" a second on those cartoons.

Don't you have bigger problems, like trying to keep existing????

Somebody toss them a check for $10,000 and a row of seats. No shade, they'd better settle down before someone shoots them in the eye and buries them at sea... I hear that's what ninjas are doin' in the streets these days!

I guess I can't shade the obvious grab for a moment of shine. I'm not fooled either: Geronimo The Movie is clearly in the works (likely with some Native American Madea action) and they're trying to get press. Can't knock the hustle. Expect Mya and Ja Rule to work their unnoticed asses into this somehow in 5-4-3-2...

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…)

From the "That's Unfortunate" files...

They couldn't come up with another name, seriously?


I wonder if the stripper who was winding her post-twin cellulite on The Ultimate Warrior Chris Brown last week is a member...

The Hostile Negress Defines: Heirloom Weave (I'm going there. Today.)

HEIRLOOM WEAVE (Also: Hairloom Weave): An attachment of fake, wanna be Beyonce weave hair, typically matted, gnarled, dingy, involuntarily loc’ing or otherwise mangled, which has seen better days or possibly better centuries, yet continues to be the centerpiece of a female’s hair wardrobe; commonly seen among “ratchet” females and typically attached with bond glue. So-called because, like a treasured locket, a family Bible or Grammy’s quilt, this wet and wavy weave has been vacuum sealed and handed down through several generations of ratchet women until it landed on the present dome. Occasionally spotted on Antiques Scalawag Roadshow.

Example of its use:

Takwisha: Well you know, I mean, Foxy Boog’s hair isn’t really that bad if you look at it really fast, during sunset.

Aisha: Girl stop your lies! I believe in antiquing and I am SO glad her Nana stored that wet and wavy weave in her hope chest for all those years, but it’s time to let the Josephine Baker-era yaki go far, far away!

This was brought to you by the letter H. For Hostile. But you already knew that.

*humming and rocking* I said I wasn't gonna tellllll noobodddddddyyyyy!!!

CNN reports on black women and natural hair "trend" at Bronner Bros. show

Mmmmhmmm. THEM Bronner Bros.

Well it's official - natural hair has arrived! CNN said so! And the Bronner Bros. told them, so you KNOW it's as official as Oprah's thighs. I'm just sayin' what would we do if CNN didn't keep us in the know about the hottest, latest trends? I just read their piece on Kid-n-Play - it's hot shit!

Bronner Bros. show highlights natural hair

Someone keep my epinephrine pen on hand; I feel a few seizures coming on. Consider yourself blessed that I'm sparing you the slide show. The article is set at the Bronner Bros. latest coon-out (be EXTRA glad you were spared THAT) where apparently, naps had a cameo appearance:

... going natural, say several stylists and experts, is making a comeback.
There were education sessions for women who were curious about styling their natural curls in courses titled "Innovative Styling for Natural and Locked Hair" and "The Art of Natural Hair."
Several booths featured organic shampoos and styling tools for customers, many of whom stopped using chemical products after experiencing negative side effects such as hair loss or burns. Bronner Bros. is a family-owned black hair care product empire based in Marietta, Georgia.

This is why I love when CNN gets all "ethnic" with it. You see, to the common observer, it might seem like they're as late as a pair of all-red KSwiss and a Gumby (You rocked it ALL, don't try it). But an esteemed journalist such as myself can see that this is REALLY a very sophisticated news delivery mechanism in which CNN manages to beat the competition by posting the news AFTER it's already been news.

Ahhhhhhhhhh! Catch the elevator - they're on the next level boo!

Last year, young music star Willow Smith, daughter of musician-actor Will Smith and actress Jada Pinkett-Smith, debuted with the colorful, hair-tossing song "Whip My Hair," which encourages young girls to embrace their who they are -- and their manes.

See there. Yet again, they are breaking it all the way down. See, YOUR ignorant ass thought "Whip My Hair" was actually a part of Jada's continued plot for dramatic femmequeen dominance in the gay male ball scene. WRONG! It was an uplifting message about embracing your natural self, jauntily delivered by a 9 year old with a mohawk that tickles the top of her calves (when-I-take-the-pins-out-my-hair-drops-down-to-my-ass game proper). And it's funny because that's her natural hair. Yes. It is.

I loved this article when ______ wrote it back in _____.

I predict CNN will soon be covering the hell out of the breaking trend of rap music and name earrings.

You don't know n'aer news organization....

The Hostile Negress Defines: Blackout (When A Negress Is Fed Up!)

BLACKOUT: The inevitable moment in a black, African-American, negro, person-of-color's life in which a person (often beige) crosses The Line, resulting in an epic ass-whooping, a string of profanity or some other profoundly uncomfortable moment of cultural dissonance typically ending with somebody's wig on sideways. So-called due to the verbal action of "blacking out" as well as the noun-like action of "blacking out" - as in passing out and awakening to find oneself clutching some errant batch's scalp.

Also refered to by some as a "nigga moment"

Examples -
Taquisha: Girl what happened between you and Megan? I noticed those endless nostril flares you've been giving her today.
Shante: Girl BYE, that batch raised her voice at me, tal'm 'bout, "Why isn't the coffee hot?" I blacked the FUG out on her, windmillin' all the way, or so they tell me. I just know she won't look me in the eye and I suddenly have a new brooch."

Situations that can lead to blackouts:
-Asking to touch a negress' hair
-Asking a negress to brush your hair
-Giving a negress the side eye

This was brought to you by the letter H. For hostile. But you knew that.

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.

You ARE the father! - A Maury moment

Of all the endless thoughts that typically bombard me whilst watching Basketball Wives (ie. How did the One of Jagged Tooth land herself a high earner and yet, still no corrective canine filing; what IS that trying to erupt from Eric William's head...) one thought has increasingly tugged at the Hostile Negress's sleeve:

There is a bonafide Maury moment unfolding every time those celebrity skeet catchers glide across the screen. I needn't go into deep explainers. The photos will say it all.

Exhibit A:


Exhibit B:

(far right- as though you needed guidance)

In the words of Yung Joc, I knoooooooooow you seee it....

Oprah's got a little (?) sister and I'm comin' out!

I'm sure by now you've all seen or heard of the latest addition to the Winfrey empire - and no, I don't mean another lesbian love muffin doubles partner best friend a la Gayle - but rather her long lost little (audible tittering) sister.

It's a family afffffffaaaaaaaiiiiiiiir!!!!

For review:


I don't know about you, but I had hoped that (in the spirit of International Drag Month) Oprah's big secret would involve her removal of certain female acoutrements set to the tune of "I'm Comin' Out" but I guess that's too much to ask. So instead we're treated to a Sister Sledge type of set up, replete with tears and hand holding.

Awwwwwwww, black love :)


Now far be it from The Hostile Negress to turn a moment of ebony familial bliss into an opportunity to focus on money. After all, I myself do this for the love of shade - and for an extra shake or three of fry seasoning by my homies at Bojangles. But I'm gonna just go ahead and state the obvious -

This hoe is about to be filthy, stankin' assed rich.

Jackpot! Boogers to baguettes! Fuck work! BALLLLLLLIIIIIIINNNNN'!

Don't act like you didn't think about it. This broad is gonna be donning a bathing suit and swimming in Oprah's Ebenezer McScroogesque pool of hundreds faster than you can say "Fuck Indian hair - Italian weave only from now on!"

Recognizing the genius of the ole long lost relative routine, yours truly has thought up her own scheme, er, plan to reunite a family.

Until now, I have kept this factoid pretty far under my hat, lest the media bombard my peeps. But I feel like now is the time to come out:


I am the long lost daughter of Ashford and Simpson


(and don't you DARE insult my father's chest ringlets!)

The year was 1980. The incident involved the windswept duo, a beach and a gang of Tanqueray. Months later, I am told, I washed up on the shores of Lake Michigan in a bedazzled hat box, with a bottle of activator tucked under my tiny arm.

I am proud to assume the A and S throne and all of the responsibilities and benefits that come along with it, including (I presume) roughly $500.

The floor is now open for musical requests!

Fashion police moving violation #235: When glitter and pastel attack

Photo care of Getty Images and a really bad Mariah Carey acid trip.

So I'm not going to pretend that I watched the Golden Globes - I was way too busy eating french fries and plotting world takeover on the couch. But this little piece of butterfly beauty has been making the rounds and I'm sure I don't have to say why.

I am, quite frankly, a stan of Sidibe. Yes, her size might, in certain circles, qualify her for statehood. And yes, the wig situation will likely be the topic of an emergency United Nations meeting in the near future. Annnnd yes, each of her wrists is equivalant in circumferance to a small pineapple.

But why dwell on the obvious. She's effin HILARIOUS and I would love to hang out with her.

And despite everybody's thoughts to the contrary, I see where she was going with this dress.

Sure, right now it just looks like a star spangled mumu. But with the addition of a cape, sash and wand, it's perfect. What else would you have the tooth fairy rock after all?

You better get those molars girl!