I understand with the economy officially entering the first four circles of hell one must save wherever they can, but can any of the female readers explain to me why Koolaid should dual as hair dye?
I’ve never understood it, and unless someone really breaks it down for me, I doubt I ever will. If I didn’t know any better, I would say T-Bone’s friend scalped Angela Lansbury and dipped the tips of her hair in Big Red’s cup before gluing that to her head. I might not be able to see people’s faces the second my contacts pop out, but I got those suckers in right now and I’m not seeing the appeal.
Then again, I might not be up on game. Apparently buying Raksha and Urishita’s hair in New Dehli and coloring pieces of it with a genetic brand crayon is what’s hot now.
I can even see the chalk head look being rocked more, but those other two, I’m still lost, ya’ll.
Have you ever listened to a song and thought the artist behind it smells like an egg and fish sandwich? If so, you’re like one of my friends who recently introduced me to a new concept: The way you sound might suggest how you smell.
Texting back and forth on Tuesday, I mentioned going to cop Jazmine Sullivan’s debut album. My friend responded by calling her Stinky Sullivan.
After I stopped laughing I asked for the story behind the name and was hit back with: “Becuz her voice make her sound like she stink. I’m not the only personal that said that either. Multiple people have said the same exact thing without me even bringing it up.”
Though I continued laughing I wrote all of this off but was refuted with: “Whateva! The girl sings like she don’t wash. Her voice just sounds smelly. Especially on bust your windows. Gross!”
This theory was back up for discussion yesterday so I asked for a second opinion. My sister laughed when I told her about all of this, noted it was mean, but did add she could get what my friend was saying. Something about how a person can sound really groggy like they didn’t brush their teeth. OK.
I’m still a bit unsure about all of this, but I thought about trying it myself. If you can base a person’s odor based on the tone of their voice, you should probably be able to infer other characteristics based on other arbitrary things, right?
Lil’ Boosie: Looks like he can destroy a bathroom.
In the Ferrari or Jaguar, switchin four lanes With the top down screamin out, money ain’t a thang
J.D.: Sounds like he has bad credit.
Plies: Talks like his breath may smell like catfish. (It doesn’t help that he looks like an actual catfish.)
Lil’ Wayne: His hair seems like it reeks of cough syrup, weed, and Baby.
Jennifer Hudson: Her smile leads me to believe that she eats hog head cheese.
Akon: Sings hooks like someone who smells like incense.
R. Kelly: His voice makes him sound like he uses baby lotion to cover up the smell of ass and piss.
Ciara: Somebody else’s scent.
Missy Elliot: Rhymes like her tongue is sponsored by Starkist.
Alicia Keys. With a voice like that, I bet she uses Right Guard.
Foxy Brown: Talks like someone who drinks a lot of Grape Soda.
Jazze Phea: The shape of his head suggests his breath has to smell like pork chops.
Ne-Yo: Sings like someone that wears Elizabeth Taylor: White Diamonds.
Rick Ross: His stomach looks like it’s full of Hamburger Helper.
Jeezy: Speaks like his scent is sponsored by Old Spice.
Chris Brown: Sings like he smells like a box of animal crackers.
Remy: Sounds like her breath stinks….ooh, wait hold up. I think I get it now.
Maybe your voice really can say a lot about body odor.
I see Frito, Bugles, and UTZ are serious about their rap dreams. Look I’ve already wasted 5 minutes and 17 seconds of my life watching this video so I’m going to review this one very quickly: If they’re billion dollar boyfriends why does it look like their video was paid for with a roll of quarters?
Disclaimer: Damn those are a lot of commercials for a 60 second clip. The recession is real, ya’ll.
Artists like to use magazines as a way of generating interest in them and their looming projects by way of some controversial cover and/or article. However, whenever such attention grabbing stunt backfires, the artist in turn likes to place the blame on the publication that they themselves usually seek out first. Ciara seems to be no different from other backsliders.
The caption is “Stand Up! Ciara,” the cover story is entitled “The Fantasy Unfolds,” and the quote is “I’m not gonna hold back too much.” Looking at the shoes, her open mouth, and where her hands are placed I can’t imagine what a thong and a bra (if actually worn) would have done to deter this very suggestive pose and the obvious theme of the article.
It gets better.
So muscle butt is saying these “artistic” photos of her bent over in size 24 stilletos are tainted because VIBE allegedly airbrushed her draws off in the cover (in a pose you wouldn’t be able to see them anyway).
Who is she supposed to be fooling?
Judging from her previous comments, she knew what the deal was and seemed excited about it. Ciara went to a magazine that had Moesha on all fours to be artistic. Right, and strippers get tipped extra for ballet lessons.
Ciara got naked for two reasons.
1. To prove that she wasn’t born Carl. 2. Ass gets attention.
If you’re going to be naked, but equally as nude about your thought process.
She’s not going to sue VIBE not because she’s over it but because a judge would likely drop the suit right on her Harry and the Hendersons sized feet. Ciara is not a victim and I’m not sure how good an idea it is to cause strife between you and one of the few magazines willing to put you on their cover.
When Ciara dropped “Goodies” despite the beat being a rehash of “Yeah” and “Freak-A-Leek” the lyrics made her somewhat of anamoly in that it had somewhat of a virginal quality to it. Then she decided to be like everyone else.
One minute she’s in Hammer pants, the next she’s found Aaliyah’s old clothes, soon after she snatches Rihanna’s old stylist, and now she’s not into wearing clothes at all as she goes for Janet Jackson-like career defining magazine covers.
Her music is cool (well, not that second album) and she’s a great performer, but she seems like someone who doesn’t know who they want to be and is willing to do whatever and become whoever she thinks will get her success. That’s fine, if you’re into people with an identity crisis, but it makes a person look wack to me.
The pictures are nice albeit a bit desperate and won’t generate album sales (people will right click save, not right click purchase), though I’m almost certain if she just spent more time performing and working on her new material (which so far sounds promising), she would likely get all the attention she desires.
Everybody wants to be like everyone else, and then when they catch heat for something, folks want to pull back and blame everyone but themselves.
Ciara, you’ve already shown your ass. No sense in trying to cover it up now.
1. Can you believe there was a time when people wanted to see Aretha Franklin’s stomach?
America’s two favorite brothers Real and Chance tried to steal New York’s heart in the VH1’s hit series I Love New York but were both left broken-hearted. Now the Stallionaires are back and ready to find love in their own new 11-episode series. Real and Chance will get their much deserved, and much anticipated chance to find real love as 15 young ladies move into their Stallionaire ranch house and try to capture their hearts. In the final episode, Chance and Real will make the most difficult decision of their lives. With two women vying for each of their hearts, they must decide who they would like to take a real chance of love with, and who’s going home alone.
2. Are they serious? 3. When will it end?
People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals sent a letter to Ben Cohen and Jerry Greenfield, cofounders of Ben & Jerry’s Homemade Inc., urging them to replace cow’s milk they use in their ice cream products with human breast milk, according to a statement recently released by a PETA spokeswoman.
4. I just threw up in my mouth a little. How about you?
5. Why has The Wire never won an Emmy?
6. If Solange is so hard up on separating herself from her sister, why is she picking up her scraps with endorsement deals from the same companies as Beyonce (Armani, L’Oreal)?
7. If Mathew could leverage deals for Solange, why couldn’t he do the same for Kelly Rowland?
8. She was fucking her boss. Just how shy can Cassie really be?
9. Am I the only one who feels like Ciara looks like a new person every other week?
10. Should he hold on to that uniform?
11. Is there anything actually young about Jeezy?
12. With their album selling about as well as iPods to deaf people, which artist should retire first: LL Cool J, Nelly, Janet or Ashanti?
13. Isn’t it time for the Pussycat Dolls to pull back the duct tape, let their dicks swing in the air and ride off into the sunset?
14. What was Michael Jackson thinking when he decided to live across the street from an elementary school in Las Vegas?
15. Naomi Campbell says she wants to have kids. What’s the British version of CPS called?
17. Kanye West has signed on to do a “black version of the Muppets.” Why?
18. What took people so long?
19. First Joy Behar on The View, and now Chris Rock on Letterman. Why do we have to go to the comedians to put the truth out there?
20. If these two had a headbutt fight, who would win?
In case you were never convinced over the last 15 years despite a very concentrated effort, Janet Jackson likes sex. Really freaky sex. With whips and chains. Piercings. Probably a clown, too, if it’s into bondage and slick choreography.
Don’t worry: I’m not about to wail on her for her hyperactive vagina on stage routine — that’s about as old as the bit itself.
Actually, I want to continue on with a previous discussion of creepy ass songs with lyrics that scare you. When I saw this video, I was reminded of just how eerie the lyrics to “Discipline” were.
Something ain’t right about that family. Sometimes I wonder if some adult took their hand and went he-he-whooo right around some body parts they had no business touching, but that could be dead wrong. Still I have questions.
Why do so many of the Jackson clan members speak in a light whisper as if they’re still children versus their natural speaking voices? Does Michael Jackson really think we believe he had sex with a woman and produced two white babies? Why does LaToya walk around as if she’s Mattel’s version of Playboy Barbie? These are very legitimate concerns, particularly Michael and Janet walking around whispering on camera but sounding like screw on stage when they’re talking to the crowd.
Now back to Janet. With Michael sucking up so much of the concern from the public, I never really thought about Janet being thrown off (in comparison to her siblings), but then I heard “Discipline.”
Daddy I disobeyed you Now I want you to come punish me
Doesn’t she realize we know the history of her father?
Babe I need some discipline tonight/Don’t hold back/I’ve been very bad Make me cry Oooo… Got to make me cry Oooo…
“Daddy make me cry?” That’s not S&M. That’s a cry for help.
When I first heard the song, I laughed at how ridiculous her voice sounded in the chorus, then I laughed even harder at how far she will go to proof that she has the biggest sex drive on Earth, only to ultimately feel like I needed a shower and prescription after listening to those lyrics again.
So tell me if I’m being prudish or do I need to start hoping that it’s never too late to call CPS.
I had to take Economics in college and the idea of taking that course was as exciting to me as the prospect of my dick kissing a pair of scissors. I found the subject complicated, and I’m not afraid to admit I sometimes had to read material once, twice, maybe three times to figure a concept out. Though I somehow managed to get a B in this course, if you asked me to explain the current financial crisis in simpler terms, I’d tell you to shut up and let me just tell you how I’m going to try and fix it. Coincidentally, that’s the same way approach President Bush is taking to handle one of the worst financial crises in this nation’s history.
Though I understand that this unprecedented bailout is an unfortunate unnecessary evil to prevent Spam becoming as valuable as Mercedes-Benz’ CL class, I’m still a bit annoyed by it. Why can’t the government bail my ass out? I’ve been a lot more responsible than those greedy triflin’ asses on Wall Street and my bailout would be far less than the projected $700 billion, so why not pay my debt off, too?
If President Bush is so gung ho about averting the crisis he helped create, he needs to look into other ways to come up with the cash to fix his fuck ups that doesn’t include our tax dollars.
I have some ideas:
1. Sell ass.
America’s been sucking off Saudi Arabia to get a good discount on oil for decades. It’s about time an American president drops and touches his toes to earn some cash with no strings attached.
Throw on your cowboy hat, assume the position, and say the phrase that pays, Bush.
2. Sell bootleg shit to Europeans.
Ask the Chinese for advice. They want us to make money to pay them back anyway.
3. Threaten executives with a shanking.
Some of these executives have received tens or even hundreds of millions of dollars after being fired for being an incompetent employee. They helped create this mess, why not shake them down for a little severance money if it’s for the cause?
4. Stop giving rich people money they don’t deserve.
Even in this bailout these jackasses are giving these even bigger jackasses more money to “fix” the problem they created. What’s the lesson in that?
5. Get out of Iraq.
We could probably do a lot with those billions of dollars we’re using to pay off people that can’t stand us to temporarily play nice.
Somebody needs to fix the economy quick because I don’t want to spend 2009 and 2010 eating oatmeal and syrup sandwiches.
As people continued to send text messages to loved ones to check on their well being or to share vital information like the locations of pod (point-of-distribution) centers, the number to call for food stamps (everyone became eligible) open grocery stores, gas stations, and restaurants, on Wednesday my brother was forwarded an alert of another kind.
AFTER DA STORM COOKOUT & PARTY….2 DAY FROM NOON TO CURFEW! COME EAT, DRINK & PARTY AND 4GET ABOUT IKE! PAJAMA PARTY 8 P.M. – 12 A.M. FREE TILL 8 P.M. $5 AFTER!
In a time of grief and sorrow a club promoter – out of the sheer graciousness of his heart, no doubt – decided to wave the cover charge for 8 hours as he provided a venue (possible powered by a generator) for people to come together and get fucked up in the middle of the day. Tell me you’re touched, too.
The reason why it’s a pajama party might be related to the fact that it’s too damn hot to wear anything else. And by cookout, I’m assuming hot dogs topped with cocaine.
If people weren’t still roaming around the city searching for gas, generators, light bulbs, and ice without the fear of doing so past midnight so they won’t be issued a $500 citation for violating curfew, I imagine it would be a lot easier to just forget about Ike. But alas, that ain’t the case and a mid-afternoon shot can only do so much, no?
Update: People don’t learn. Another club tried to buck the system and found itself raided last night. The curfew ended tonight. You would think people could wait a little while longer, but apparently not. Oh well. Holla at a bail bondsman.
In yet another reminder of why I need to hurry up and move (oh how that day is drawing closer and closer), Hurricane Ike is headed my way and ready to give my city a bitch slap.
It was only a week ago that I told my friend on the phone that there were two storms chasing behind Gustav. When I said the name Ike my friend burst into laughter. He wasn’t alone. On Ike I saw Anderson Cooper say on CNN, “If Tina shows up, I’ll be there.”
I laughed at my friend and Anderson. Ha ha hell now.
I’m praying to God that I don’t lose my power and my internets for too long. I’m trying to find a permanent escape route, ya dig.
And before you brand me a self-involved jackass, I’m also praying that the wind not knock off people’s roofs and that flooding damage be kept to a minimum. I don’t want to see Major the neighborhood crackhead and schizophrenic floating by on a boat asking folks to by him a beer at the nearest relief shelter.
Not to mention, I think everyone should say a collective prayer (or wish on a star, knock on some wood, think happy thoughts, eat a lucky chicken wing, whatever it is that you do) because the storms we have now are going to look like sprinkles if we don’t get our act together. Word to Al Gore.
I’m also trying not to curse the people losing their damn minds before the storm makes landfall out. Today folks were spinning around the grocery store like they’re a walking hurricane, and driving like they’re being chased by a tornado. I know people are scared, but c’mon nah.
Alright, that’s it, I guess. Don’t know when I’ll get to update. Hopefully the wind doesn’t huff, puff, and blow the damn power lines down.
That would really suck.
If you’re in Ike’s path, be safe. If you aren’t, be grateful.
P.S. Wish me luck on my maintaining my last nerve through the weekend.
If you were looking for a review of the VMAs from me, in sum: It was like watching an old dog that needed to be put to sleep.
Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, it seems like all of the artists that probably should have been booked for the MTV Video Music Awards/Hills celebration party decided to take Sunday off and just stick to the Fashion Rocks taping last Friday instead.
Rihanna really sucks as a performer. I thought she was getting better, but lately she’s been performing with about as much enthusiasm as people laying in caskets. Beauty doesn’t always prevent boredom, Rih-Rih. Surprised Madonna hasn’t put a hex on her yet.
I haven’t decided on how I feel about Beyonce’s version of “At Last.” I appreciate that she didn’t extend the song by seven minutes the way Christina Aguilera is known to, but I’m not sure if I love it. I was more impressed by her speaking voice during the tribute video. Don’t knock her speech coach game.
As for Etta James: That is somebody’s fly grandma.
I’ve come to appreciate Chris Brown the performer. There I said it. Actually, I’ve said it before so leave me be, Breezy bitches. Now that Usher has fallen off, who else do I have to look forward to? Ne-Yo the Negro is not an acceptable answer. Anyway, while Chris tricks his money off on Rihanna, it wouldn’t kill him to sign her up for a dance class.
I’ve seen people in wheelchairs shake it harder than Duffy, but I don’t care: Her song knocks and she can sing. Step your rehab game up, Amy Wino.
Having Justin Timberlake take part in a Motown tribute is like serving tofu at a soul food place. Kidding, kidding. He was alright.
Mariah Carey was introduced as someone that’s made some of the most danceable music of our time. Right, and Marilyn Manson is the world’s most underrated gospel artist. I guess one could make that claim if you call big ballds you can wave your hand to dance music. Personally, I’m still trippin’ off the promo shot she used for this performance. Does she really think she looks anything like that?
Nicole should really let those other girls in the group speak. They do her the great favor of masking the fact that she can’t dance and is relatively boring by herself on stage. Shouldn’t they get some reward?
I didn’t mind the poster child for media training’s performance as much people did. She did sing like she just inhaled a 200 pound man, but outside of that I thought she looked good and had a lot of energy. I wouldn’t get up on stage and do the robot, but maybe that works for some people.
And last and certainly least, the Black Eyed Peas. Whenever I see them perform I feel like an Urban Outfitters ad has come to life. Next.
All and all the only thing missing from Fashion Rocks was actual fashion.
There you go. Will try to do better with the updates this week.