Help Me: Usher

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Dear Michael,

It’s you boy, Usher (Ush-sha, Ush-aaah)!

Yeah, man!

I wanted to shock the world with my latest project, and show the world that I am a man now. This album is a journey that captures the moment in my life when I realized one very important thing: My mother is getting old, and I’ve got to find some other lady to nurse me.

Who’s gonna love me when I’m down, ya dig? Who’s gonna be there for me when my star fades (like that’ll ever happen, but let’s pretend)? Who’s gonna burp me?


Look at her! Yeah, man!

And you would think people would be happy by the fact that I found a woman who would both take care of me and cut up my carrots! Not to mention help me make my future masterpieces: Usher V, Usher, VI, and Usher VII.

Yeah, man!

But instead of people being happy about that, people keep starting rumors. Talking about my wife changed all the locks at my house, my wife tried to put my mother in a home, my wife tried to have Chilli sent back to 1992.

No, man!

And I can’t even focus on my masterpiece (well, second masterpiece, you do know Confessions is the new Thriller – YEAH MAN!), because of all this shade.

I love her to death and I’m a strong Black man in America standing up for my people. I coulda been like any other man who has a child and live with that woman and continue to mess around and make another Confessions album. Instead I’m doing it the right way – for my wife, my son, and my family. This is how you’re supposed to do it. I’m giving the fellas knowledge.

Yeah, man!

Knowledge like my wife is not 40 years old.

Stop that!

So I’m tired of ya’ll talking about me and my wife. What do I have to do to convince people of our STRONG BLACK (super duper BLACK) LOVE?!

I’m so happy, man.

Happy. Happy. Happy.

Dear Usher,

First off, if you’re happy, that’s wonderful. Having said that…

That’s a sippy cup full of “shut the fuck up” juice. Take it to the head.

You try to portray yourself as so much more mature than you used to be, but so far you’ve been acting the same way only now you found someone willing to be legally bound to your bitch fits.

Whenever you drop an album, you typically irk me with your delusions of grandeur, but I normally dismiss it because I like your music enough to ignore it. But since your album sucks, here we are.

What does you marrying a woman 40 almost 40 have to do with standing up for Black people? Is your being married a gesture to Black folk? Why do some people demand praise endlessly for something they’re supposed to be doing anyway?

And if I’m not mistaken, you were cheating on Chilli with her while she was still legally married. Yeah, that’s how you do it, fellas. Wait, that’s probably not true at all, but that’s part of my point: You won’t shut up about this stuff, thus leaving it up for debate in the public.

I respect your right to defend your wife, but you bring your personal life into the public, so why do you act surprised when people comment on it? Better question: Why do you care?

Let me give you an example: You’re a Big Ben Vereen looking sum bitch. Now you could come at me, call me a fake ass Debarge or clown my teeth and toss a carrot at me. Or you could remind yourself that you’ve largely been considered a sex symbol, so who cares what I think about your looks. Especially when I like them. That makes sense, right? Why not apply that logic to criticism about you marrying your wife? You know she’s not a bugawolf so why care about what faceless strangers say?

You feeling compelled to reiterate again and again (and again) that you and Tameka are so happy makes you look insecure. Do you think Beyonce cares that some people are worried that her first born might come out looking like a KOOL cigarette ad, or that Jay pays any mind to talk that his daughter’s first word will be lacefront?

They haven’t even confirmed or denied whether or not they’re married. When it comes to answering questions about their relationship, they drop subtle hints then release a single together the second people stop looking at them. That works for them. Go find your own way, because this whining every other day shtick is not the business, pimpin’. Stop worrying about people comments on your happiness.

Rambling on about Tameka when you ought to be apologizing for that album. Here I Stand? Man, I should trip your ass.

Now go finish giving Tameka her pedicure. That pretty lady ain’t got all day.


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