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I’m a big kid now…dun, dun.

The following are pieces of an interview Not So Lil Bow Wow conducted with XXL.

”But to me, honestly Will wasn’t like a real rapper.”

Ok, maybe I can see that argument. Elaborate for me.

”He was more like a gimmick. Then he zapped in to get a TV show, and it was on and poppin’. Then after that he was in Hollywood. So things came easy for him. With me, I’m a rapper. I ain’t with the whole colorful cornball type things. That’s just not my style.”

What an interesting comment coming from someone discovered by Snoop Dogg and ultimately put onto the scene at the age of 12 by Jermaine Dupri – a man known to make you “Jump, Jump.” Uh huh. Uh huh. Uh huh.

”Will [Smith] can act, but he does more of those blockbuster Hollywood movies, which I wanna do. But also I wanna do it like Denzel-movies that really mean something. I feel like I can definitely be better than him.”

The few times I’ve seen him on the screen, each time I’ve thought, “Man. This kid is going to knock Sidney Poitier out of the water. Just look how he plays the role of an arrogant spoiled brat, much like his actual persona. Riveting.”

”We just found each other, and we just riding it out,” he says of the relationship. ”It’s a beautiful situation.”

Dude finally got some cooter and don’t know how to act.

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Some of these artists I usually like, but lately they’ve bugged me. Others I can’t stand and simply want to disappear.

Gwen Stefani

When she finally announced plans for a solo project, I was intrigued. When I found out she worked out with a heap of producers in an effort to construct the perfect ode to the fun and dance-friendly times of the 80s, I was ecstatic. When she spun around in the video for the Linda Perry-penned “What You Waiting For,” I began to count down the days until her solo album’s release. After finally getting my hands on Love Angel Music Baby, I cheered for her success.

A year following its release, I can only say this about Gwen: She irks the hell out of me.

Yes, I’m one of those. Love you for one minute, and then beg you to depart from Earth the next. Well, not really, but Gwen has been grating my nerves lately. I think my change of heart has a lot to do with her being a culture vulture. The Harujuki Girls shtick is cute in an Asian version of Amos and Andy sort of way. Much like Madonna, Gwen preys on other cultures, learns as much as she can about these cultures, then moves on to pimp said cultures to the masses. Sometimes it’s fine, other times it’s just irritating. She fits the latter.

Gwen reminds me a lot of Madonna — 80s Madonna anyway. The only difference is she comes across a bit more calculated than Madonna (I’d prefer the challenge of taking time to figure out how calculated you are versus guessing off the bat). She’s very safe, the darling of one of the most powerful labels out there (What it do, Interscope, hook me up with a deal). I’m sure her sophomore effort will impress me (then again, I hear she’ll be incorporating screw into her sound, so if I hear this chick utter the phrase “Whut it dew,” I’ll lose it), but today, she bores me.

Mike Jones

Yes, I have hometown pride and I’m happy to see someone from Houston make it. But, this Donatello from the Ninja Turtles looking Negro has gone platinum while Slim Thug’s Already Platinum is “awwready” on the clearance racks. It’s just not right. I’m not really knocking this dude’s hustle, but he never piqued my interest before he went national and he still doesn’t. Come back to H-Town and you’ll hear similar responses. Z-Ro, Slim Thug, Hawk, and a number of others just have more to offer, in my own little opinion.

Alicia Keys

Actually, I’ve warmed up to her, but that doesn’t mean I can’t vent past frustrations about her. She’s not the best singer, but she sings with sincerity — though she howls like Rulf from the Muppets at times. She’s a decent producer, I’ll give her that. As a songwriter, though, eh, I don’t think anything she’s written really separates herself from the other singer-songwriters in her age group.

To this day, I wonder why haven’t James Brown and Aretha Franklin sued her over sampling their material without being credited on her debut (“This Is A Man’s World” and “Natural Woman,” respectively). I gather Clive broke them off under the table.

The Diary of Alicia Keys suggests that she has the potential to deliver a classic album. “You Don’t Know My Name” is one of the better R&B records to come out in years. Ditto for “If I Ain’t Got You.” And when I saw her live in concert, besides the ill fatted attempt at duplicating Mary’s classic bowlegged rhythm less strut across the stage, (Think What’s The 411? Era Murry), I have no complaints.

In fact, after the concert, I refrained from taking shots at Alicia (Shhh, Trini!). Alright, maybe not as many shots. Then I heard “Unbreakable.” Now why exactly would anyone in love want to fight like Ike and Tina? I don’t know about you all, but being forced to eat cake (that’s not what we mean by “cakin” in Houston), being hit with a goldfish-filled platform shoe, and being damn near choked to death doesn’t exactly set the mood for me. Even with that line removed, I still find the song corny. Fortunately, “Stolen Moments” keeps me interested in future studio offerings.

I’m dancing my main point, so let’s hop to it: I think she’s so good to people because everyone else is so bad. I feel the same way about John Legend. Both are talented, both are full of potential, but if Lauryn, Maxwell, Erykah, and D’Angelo were all on the up and up, I wouldn’t be surprised if neither attained half the success they currently enjoy.

Or maybe I just need to lay off the girl (which may very well be true, but that doesn’t fit the theme of this entry, now does it?)

Marques Houston

Why is he still around? No really, why is he? He can’t sing particularly well. He’s robotic Usher-inspired dance steps don’t exactly wow the crowd. Most of all, his songs are mad corny. Go home, Roger.

Omarion

“Ooooooh” this dude cannot sing. I know he can dance, I know the girls like him, but unless he gets a shot of bass in his voice or is forced to devour a box of throat lozenges, I don’t want to hear his wack ass anymore.

*picture unavailable…too damn ugly*

Pretty Ricky

Ain’t a damn thing pretty about nann one of these bammas from Florida. They’re like an ugly, untalented version of Jodeci and that’s just not cool. Go.away.please.

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1. Does Mariah Carey make it her mission to impersonate Marilyn Monroe in every single video she shoots?

2. When is Kool-Aid going to sue Keyshia Cole for copyright infringement?

3. With reports of her beefing with Fantasia and Kanye West suspending her from dates on his tour over a rift, when is someone going to let Keyshia know that Mary didn’t start wildin’ until after she moved some units?

4. Speaking of Mary, with her back to some of her old ways like publicly beefing with journalists, is anyone else more excited than ever about her new album, The Breakthrough?

5. Is Gwen Stefani ever going to emancipate those Harajuku Girls?

6. With Ashanti pushing perfume at Walmart and an underwhelming new single featuring Method Man and Paul Wall (interesting combo there, Shani) already floundering at radio, is it safe to say Beyonce won?

7. So does this mean no solo album from sister, ShiShi?

8. Will Donell Jones ever get the respect he deserves?

9. Who else would take self-absorbed, status-quo challenging Madonna over self-absorbed, pseudo spiritualist Madonna any day?

10. As much as we want a new UGK album, when we say “Free Pimp C,” do we ever take into account that, y’know, technically Pimp C deserved to go to jail?

11. Is the new Outkast film, “Idlewild” the next “Under the Cherry Moon?”

12. Are the Pussycat Dolls the new Vanity 6?

13. Will LeToya Luckett be to Houston what Ciara is to Atlanta?

14. Do you even know who LeToya Luckett is?

15. Is Q-Tip really going to release that sophomore solo effort, tentatively titled Live At The Renaissance?

16. Why is Kelly Clarkson such a guilty pleasure?

17. When will the following ever give us new albums: D’Angelo? Lauryn Hill? Christina Aguilera? Maxwell? The Fugees? Foxy Brown? Erykah Badu? Sade?

18. With no daddy around when she was growing up and no consumers copping her disc after she pushed her pubescent tits up like she doesn’t give a f*#@, how much does it suck to be Teairra Mari right now?

19. Anyone else dying to see Lil Kim without the weave, makeup and collegian injections?

20. I’m not the only one who thinks John Legend looks like Teddy Ruxpin, am I?

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I’m not even going to pretend to know much about this kid. I saw him perform on the Vibe awards the other night and I must say, the second he started singing, I immediately recalled puberty. Young Chris Brown can certainly dance, but singing is not his forte. But, it’s 2005 and that really doesn’t matter anymore, now does it. Sure, he has an OK voice. Y’know, if you enjoy the sound of a six year old boy belting out. Chris is being marketed as the next Usher (How does it feel to peak at 25, Ush?) . With a number one single and a throng of young adolescent girls ditching homework to make sure his video stays atop of the 106 and Park countdown, I get the feeling he may have longevity (which is now considered to be three months). I’m excited.

Not for him, but for ME. I can’t sing worth a damn, but if Ashanti can take her karaoke sills and hook up with Bad Boy/Mary J. Blige in the 90s era envying producers to go multi-platinum (one time anyway) and young Chris can score a monster hit on radio by just jogging, why can’t I give it a try?

If Chris Brown can go number with “Run It.” can’t I do the same if I “Pace Myself?”

Think about it. I’m all geeked up now to work on my debut album, tentatively titled, “I Can’t Sing, But I Still Have Platinum Dreams.”

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Months after Kanye West appears on national television to speak against the homophobia that pervades hip hop, 50 Cent – who’s antithetical to everything Kanye represents, opens his mouth to say the exact opposite.


Being gay isn’t cool – it’s not what the music is based on. There’s always been conflict at the centre of hip-hop, because it’s all about which guy has the competitive edge, and you can’t be that aggressive if you’re gay.

I guess he would have a point if all gay men were effeminate. Then again, how gangsta is referring to your piece as a lollipop, singing like a rejected Harlem Boys Choir member over Dre-produced beats, and chit chatting with the ladies of daytime talk show “The View?”

He goes on to add that he has nothing against gay men, though he’s quick to note how uncool it is to be gay in that same interview. Pace yourself, 50. Breath. Think. Think some more. Speak. Take a five minute break before you repeat the steps.

At the end he adds, “I mean, some rappers are fruity, but they don’t say they’re gay out in the open.” No, they don’t. They shoot homoerotic shower scenes for their semi-autobiographical film while appearing in GQ in a dazzling ensemble.


What up, blood

What up, cuz

What up, blood

What up, gangsta

Not so much. I’m thinking more along the lines of…

Greta Garbo, and Monroe

Deitrich and DiMaggio

Marlon Brando, Jimmy Dean

On the cover of a magazine

Show the world how aggressive hip hop can be in the pages of a men’s style magazine. Strike a pose, 50.

This nutty negro has the gall to poke his chest out with the fan blowing ala Marionce (I had to combine the two) in a magazine decked out with ads for “man bags” yet he’s saying gays can’t be in hip hop because the culture is too aggressive. Negro, please.

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And they say hip hop is bad for kids!

Bill O’Reilly, darling of the Rupert Murdoch tribute to propaganda channel (or Fox News, take your pick) has always been recognized as a bastion of sensitivity. This is the guy who routinely belittles his guests on air (like Jeremy Glick, whose father died as a result of the terrorist attacks of 9/11), regularly mocks other countries (hello French and Canadian readers), and engages in shouting matches on C-SPAN (and you know they love a good fight over there).


If you’ve watched his show even a few times, you’ll quickly recognize one trait about Mr. O’Reilly: he’s an asshole. Sometimes he may actually have a point buried underneath all that hot air, but he’s an asshole all the same. I’m sure the people of San Francisco would agree.

“Listen, citizens of San Francisco, if you vote against military recruiting, you’re not going to get another nickel in federal funds. Fine. You want to be your own country? Go right ahead.”

I guess I should be careful of how I vote in the next election. I wouldn’t want to see Texas take another stab at independence.

“And if al Qaeda comes in here and blows you up, we’re not going to do anything about it,” he said. “We’re going to say, look every other place in America is off limits to you, except San Francisco. You want to blow up the Coit Tower, go ahead.”


So not only is O’Reilly kicking San Francisco out of the Union, he’s also giving terrorist network, al Qaeda, tips on what city landmarks are worth attacking. Why is this man the host of cable news’ number one news program again? Please don’t answer that. It will only depress me to know the real reason why so many Americans enjoy his show.

What prompted O’Reilly’s incendiary remarks? Well 60% of San Franciscans voted for a measure that urges local high schools and colleges to bar military recruiters from their campus. Many refer to it as predatory recruiting.

Why would O’Reilly be so upset about this? Did he serve in the military? Short answer: hell nawl. Though he’s claimed on many occasions to have “seen combat,” he admitted to never actually serving in the military to a caller on his own show. I’ve seen “Saving Private Ryan,” so perhaps I should start walking around telling people I’m a Navy SEAL. I’m sure that will go over well with people.

I should head to the mall first thing in the morning and beg Santa to shut this guy up.

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On October 30th, Courtland Milloy chose to depict Howard University students as apathetic fried-chicken lusting coons to make the case of how President Dumbya was so incompetent that he could even get a rise out of such degenerates on a routine trip in his Sunday column. Three days later, he bypassed Bush and went straight into defense mode, assailing the Howard community even more for taking issue with the way he described the student body. The next day, Milloy played damage control, speaking with our campus paper, the Hilltop, noting that he’s written hundreds of articles praising Howard (good luck finding them, though); that he loves Howard students, going as far as to call us the “Talented Tenth” (People actually still subscribe to this elitist and trite notion?). Today, Milloy arrived on campus to speak with several journalism students to umm….your guess is as good as mine.

I had the “privilege” of attending this poorly advertised engagement (shocker there) with Mr. Milloy. He comes across the same way in person as he does in his columns — yeah, I really like him now.

Milloy spent much of the time not answering the questions. Ever the condescending one, when one student asked why he chose to depict us as coons, Milloy responded, “Perhaps you’re seeing something inside of you,” taking a stab at psycho analysis. I take it he didn’t do his research again: you were speaking to students in the School of Communications, not the College of Arts and Sciences. Take your psycho babble up the hill, Milloy.

In one instance, Milloy made it seem as if the sole attempt of his column was to provoke thought, to encourage activism, and to address the larger issue at hand (whatever that is). In another, Milloy said he was writing off the top of his head; the words just flew out of him, with no intended message in mind to release.

As he did in his second column, Milloy totally sideswiped our real grievance with him and instead chose to go into unrelated topics: Our homecoming fashion show from two years ago, how our alumni contribute…or don’t contribute, and the Punch Out, a restaurant area for students.

Finally, I get my chance to ask a question — well several really. I can’t remember what I said verbatim (a first lol), but I asked him why is he acting as if he’s honestly shocked at the reaction he received from the Howard community, since he’s made a career out of depicting blacks in a stereotypical manner to get a rise out of people. Wanted to know why he took the issue of political apathy into a Howard issue when it’s a generational issue. Inquired as to how any of his demeaning commentary will motivate anyone to become more politically active. Asked him why is he not answering anyone’s questions and instead engaging the room in a never-ending debate about how to properly depict blacks. I let him know that the tone of his articles was condescending, which prompted him to say, “You can’t get a tone from my words, that must be something you see inside yourself.” I gather his middle name is Phil. Whatever the case, the good doctor didn’t answer any of my questions, but I kept pressing him to until he finally said, “I’m not answering anymore of your questions.” Try answering one first.

Alright, I’ll be honest and admit to taking a swipe. When telling him I knew he had a history of depicting blacks in the same manner as he did in the columns in question, I said, “I really wish I had those columns on me, but like you in your first column, I’m unprepared.”

Another student asked him what was the point of his articles. She said she understood his first point in the first column – to attack Bush. But she didn’t understand why he attacked Howard in the next. She wanted to know what prompted him to take such action. His response, “I don’t know.”

Another student asked him how could he generalize and does he feel any irresponsibility. His response, “I don’t know.”

I wanted to ask another question. “Not you anymore,” Milloy quickly shouted.

He threw out a bunch of random facts that had nothing to do with the issue at hand; pretended to actually be concerned about the Howard community, yet took swipes at us the entire time; and boasted about his own work. In a nutshell, he delivered his column LIVE.

What a waste.

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Yeah, they don’t look like that in person. If they did, perhaps I wouldn’t be huddled up in my bed debating whether or not I should trek over to my friend’s house (AGAIN!).

Before you give me the standard, “Stop being a punk!” response, give me a break – I am from Texas. We don’t do rats. Well, I damn sure don’t. Nutty squirrels, sure. Roaches the size of Arizona, (grits teeth) you deal with. Mice, rats, and squirrels carrying chicken bones in their mouths (I kid you not), hell nawl.

I have tried my hardest to deal with my living situation; but enough is enough. A year ago, because someone either tried to break into the house through the basement or some genius left the door open, a rat poplocked its way onto the first floor. I swear, I heard it blasting Lil Jon. The second I saw it, I ran up stairs quicker than you can say, “Look, Ma, he can fly.”

I attempted to change my flight that very night so I could go home a day early for Thanksgiving break. Damn those fees to hell; I was stuck. Luckily, I was able to stay with a friend. Too bad that friend was from Brooklyn (where the rats rep the borough just as hard as any other Brooklynite) and had a great laugh at my expense. Actually, everyone laughed. Bah.

Fast forward a year later and I’m seen a few of Mickey and Minnie’s wayward offspring every so often — though never in my own room. So much for that. That trife mouse scurried its way under the door and ran across my shoebox of a room to the laundry area. I can’t find it to kill it (A dash of COURAAAAGE indeed), so I’m stuck. Haven’t moved much in over an hour.

I was having a great day until this uninvited guest decided to use my room for tonight’s bunker. Yeah, this isn’t going to work at all. Must.find.new.place.to.live.

Yes, I know this is D.C. and it’s commonplace. But, that doesn’t mean I ought to be at their front door. I know I yearn to live in New York, but I consider the 800th wheel conundrum something to worry about once I arrive. I lived in Chinatown all summer, one would think when it comes to these things, my balls would have grown in. They come around singing “Knuck If You Buck” around me. People I’ll fight; rats and mice I’ll buck the hell away from.

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That jacket reminds me of the colorful bullshit from K-Mart my mother forced me to wear as a kid. Please don’t let this become a trend. Wait, too late. It’s from BAPE and this little item is priced at $400. If I were JD and Pharrell, I’d ask for $399.75 back.
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