Take That

I like Etta James. “A Sunday Kind of Love” is one of my favorite songs, and to me is far superior to “At Last,” which many people have since pointed out didn’t even originate with Beyonce’s latest arch nemesis. I thought to go into a whole spiel about how wrong Etta James is, how she may want to watch her back (and scalp) because Tina may dig into her root box and set it off, but I’m not going to bother.

I’m going to let Mama Skorpian break it down instead.

Word. Let this serve as even more proof that Beyonce stans range in age, color, gender, and sanity. Bey-lieve it, ya’ll. Bey-lieve.

Hands Where I Can See ‘Em

Well I know what I don’t want for my birthday. A group of individuals have joined together to form the Passion for Christ Movement. They are releasing a series of t-shirts in their ex-series designed to combat the perversions of the world. Their biggest target is masturbation.

Don’t feel left off divas, homos, slaves, and regular ole perverts — their are shirts targeting ya’ll, too. Still, masturbation seems to top their list of things not to do.

If you check out the site, you’ll find a video in which one of the members of the anti-self love movement speak on the evils on personal arousal. I didn’t know whether to laugh or laugh really really hard. I went with the latter before realizing these people were serious. After that dawned on me, I sighed for a millisecond then laughed all over again.

This is why I sometimes think there should be some sort of prerequisite before people are allowed to read the Bible.

I get it: Chronic masturbation is probably bad for your hands and bad for you; but out of all of the things wrong in the world, a normal function is their biggest concern? If I see a lonely homeless man on the street, I’m not going to hand him any change and say, “Now go marry a nice bush woman so you won’t fornicate later on tonight.”

If their goal in life is to get the world to only piss and pray then I only have one thing left to say:

…and if they scared go to church, ‘cuz the remix hurt.

I’m Wired

Oh how I have waited for this day. I heard “The Stanky Legg” several months ago, and like many of you who just watched the video my initial reaction was, “What the hell?” Probably not for the same reasons, though. Yes, I thought the song was stupid, but that didn’t bother me. What irked me about it was I felt I was too old to do it. And not only that, I felt as though I was too tall.

It really bothers me when you midgets out there make these dances with only other little people in mind. Tall people like to jig, too! I think this dance is a bit discriminatory towards people of higher heights, but I have decided to not let that hold me back. Dr. King taught me that, which is why my legs now stank with the rest of ya’ll. I’ve noticed that for some reason, I tend to do it better with one leg than the other. I don’t know what’s that about.

Anyhow, I knew it wouldn’t be long before this song spread all over the country. Little by little we’re all going to look the fool doing this awkward dance in the club, bar, and/or grocery store. Judging from some of the YouTube comments, there are many people none too thrilled about that.

Depending on who you ask, this dance is single handedly leading to the destruction of Black people. I get that shake that “whoop da dee doo” and dancing like you’re trying to wake your leg up isn’t exactly boosting brain cells, but it’s a silly dance all in fun. I don’t get the big deal. My niece stanky leggs and she consistently makes the honor roll.

Besides, some of our most acclaimed artists sang simple lines not that far from “do the stanky legg.”

For example:

“Shake your booty, your mighty booty, your lovely booty, your pretty booty.”

That’s from “Shake Your Body Down To The Ground.” OK, literally a second after I wrote that I suppose in hindsight, using a line like this from Michael Jackson may have not been the best way to go about it, but ya’ll get what I’m saying.

Besides, “The Stanky Legg” isn’t the problem, lack of balance is. Let some smart rappers come up with a respectable dance and then people can have options.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m about to get up and do this dance for the ninth time today.

25 Reasons To Read Me

I didn’t plan on doing this, but I feel like I’ve been tagged 25 times so I might as well share my 25. Ya’ll ignored my other post. I guess some of you are above turning tricks for cash. Whatever. The Senate doesn’t have enough votes to pass the stimulus bill so you may want to reconsider.

Now if you’re my Facebook friend, you read this already but feel free to pretend you haven’t.

Alright. Here it goes:

1. For some odd reason, people seem to think I’m a lot more cultured than I actually am. Some folks seem to think I walk around all day with a silver spoon in my mouth, listening to smooth jazz as I watch the BBC on the telly. Yeah, I can read, but I wake up every morning and listen to some ign’t shit. In fact, yesterday I was trying to do the stanky leg while I was brushing my teeth.

2. Whenever one of my brother’s friends tell him I seem so sophisticated, he tells them I’m a ghetto hoe. He may be right. After a couple of drinks they tend to see me in a button down jiggin’ throwing up Hiram Clarke. But why can’t I be both?

3. Although I love being a proud member of the thin boy crew, I’m starting to think I’ve gotten too small. I’ve morphed from the Pilsbury Dough Boy to the Jolly Green Giant. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still sessy and shit, but I need to keep my weight up.

4. I love my nieces more than anything. Oh wait, ya’ll probably already know that. Well, sometimes, they make me want to have my own children. Who wants to give me some pretty babies?

5. For the life of me, I don’t understand why white folks get locs. I’m looking outside my window and I see somebody with them now. I’m so tempted to ask him was Bob Marley [that] important to you? I swear I’m not racist. In fact, I don’t like anyone. Promise.

6. My dad looks like Katt Williams. I don’t quite know how I feel about that.

7. If I had my body in tip top shape, I’d be a stripper right now. I’m dead ass serious.

8. People have told me I should model. My response is usually, “I’m not loaning you any money!” If I could just lease the body to do it until I could get it on my own, I’d consider it.

9. I always feel like I’m behind my friends. I don’t fear that I’ll fail. I worry that it will take too long for me to make it.

10. People tell me I look unapproachable, but I can’t understand why. Bitch, I’m friendly, hoe.

11. A lot of my partying from 2005 and 2006 is a complete blur to me. Just last week someone reminded me that I proposed to a bartender with a ring pop. I have no idea where I got the ring pop from because I don’t eat candy.

12. I used to rip off Babyface when I wrote songs around the age of 9. In fact, I could sing my ass off up until about 12. Now I only sound mildly tolerable once every 7 years and when that happens, my throat hurts after. <^> puberty.

13. I only dance after a couple of drinks. I was so self-conscious about dancing that I never did. I always felt like I couldn’t dance. So when you see me on the floor, be proud — I’m overcoming my fears (sponsored by Vodka).

14. I am clumsy as hell. If you’ve walked near me and I ran into you, don’t think it’s due to me being too small and the wind blowing me over. Just be happy I’m not fat anymore so I couldn’t crush you.

15. I listen to Kut Klose’s “I Like” as if it came out a week ago. I just turned it on after writing that. I feel sorry for whoever is about to hear me sing the bridge.

16. I understand that I sometimes am not a bastion of optimism, but I don’t think I’m a negative person at all. I think if you truly listen to me, you’ll know that I’m a closet idealist trying to hold on. I believe I’m doing a decent job of it.

17. I rarely eat BBQ, I haven’t had pork or beef in 7 years, I only like chicken strips, wings, and sandwiches, and watermelon is nasty to me. Barack isn’t the only one breaking stereotypes.

18. I worry sometimes that I will end up alone. There. I said it.

19. When I was 19 a priest stopped me in the middle of confession to tell me he saw a priest in me. I thought he had cataracts. I actually did think about becoming a priest once, though. I was maybe 11…after my dreams of a singing career died.

20. I believe in God, but after that it gets a little murky after a little research. I think I’ll find my way but it really bothers me when people try to demonize me when I’m probably more versed in their own faith than they are. I am a good person that tries to do right by people. Let God handle me.

21. I secretly (that is, until now) want to try doing stand-up. I don’t know what happened because I used to act up until high school, but I sometimes act like I’m ‘too cool.’ I’m just too aware is all. I know, I suck for that.

22. I used to be a 2 Pac stan until I grew up and realized he was basically trying to play Bishop up until the day he died. Denzel ain’t got shit on ‘Pac.

23. I regret that I didn’t see my grandparents enough. I miss them so much. May they both rest in peace.

24. At my funeral, I want them to play “Get Me Bodied,” “Pimpin’ The Pen,” and Yolanda Adams just in case. Should I invite someone named Akbar and chubby Asian dude, too? Kidding, ya’ll.

25. I react about as well to rejection as Star Jones’ body did to her gastric bypass.

Bonus: The other nite my niece texted me (yes, [ya'll] are getting old) “I Luv u!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

It made me feel like a billionaire.

Oh yeah: For the first time in a long time I feel like I’m living and not simply existing.

Damn, I forgot the best one: I prefer drinking straight from the bottle. Saves water! I learned from Captain Planet!

What’s That Choking Him?

I’m not really big on trends, so from time to time a lot of things escape me. That shit around Chris Brown’s neck would be an example of such instance. What is that exactly? I imagine since it’s winter, the scarf/hood combo serves a purpose in keeping his neck and ears covered. But he’s in a short-sleeved t-shirt and riding a skateboard, so are his arms not cold? No seriously, I’m intrigued.

My friend says it looks like Chris was playing with a group of kids and had to be the terrorist. Though somewhat plausible, I’m guessing there’s something else to it. Someone please tell me if Chris actually bought that separately or he simply cut up one of Rihanna’s sweaters after she took his Happy Meal toy.

I just want to make sure I’m up on new stuff. I really hope this doesn’t pick up, though. It seems worse than when everyone started walking around looking like a gay pirate two years ago.

Damn You, Recession

As if Three Can Play That Game weren’t bad enough, Vivica Fox has now embraced the Dionne Warwick and Esther Rolle approach to keeping her bills paid — using her acting skills to shill for the Psychic Friends Network. As you can see, there’s no shame in Anjanetta’s game because there ain’t nothing going on but the rent…mmhmm.

I always wondered who actually calls these lines and why. No offense to any of the people in the commercial, but looking at them I don’t want their help. Besides, why spend money to have someone lie to you when I can bitch to my friends after 7:00 p.m. for free? I don’t knock Viv’s hustle, though. Those corrective surgeries aren’t going to pay for themselves. I’ll sell you your future, too, if it could pay off my student loans.

Oh, if any of you out there are worried this commercial may harm Vivica’s life as a thespian, no worries. She’s got Thorns from a Rose, Hollywood & Wine, and Miss Nobody all lined up for you.

Like It

Although I’ve made attempts in the past, I’ve never fully embraced Rihanna as an artist. I’ve often pointed to people like her as an example of why how the music industry is a cesspool of marginally talented pop stars pretending to be a lot hotter than they actually are. However, the more I see her, the more I’m less inclined to believe that. Honestly, I’m actually starting to look to her as a bright spot in pop music.

Granted, up until very recently I thought she sounded like a pregnant goat, but now there’s something about her voice I find all too appealing. Before you ask, yes, I checked to see if it’s some sort of island hex she put in her songs. I don’t think that’s it. Whether you like it or not, her voice is distinct and there aren’t many singers (genuine and make believe) out there who can claim such a feat. Perhaps more people ought to model their singing style after Billy Goat Gruff’s baby mama, because I’m starting to get hooked to anything she sings.

I stumbled along a couple of her leftover tracks over the last two weeks and I’m stuck on them. They are “How I Like It” and “Bad Girl.” The latter track features her hyperactive boyfriend trying to rap. Consider yourself warned.

Disclaimer: Look here now, don’t you go suing me thinking you’re going to get some money out of my bank account. If you want those songs taken down send me a message and we’re good. I’ll be damned if I pay for Rihanna’s next touch up or super freak whip.

Neither track is particularly worthwhile yet I can’t stop listening to them – and that infatuation is completely attributed to her voice. I can’t believe I’m writing that without laughing. I’m intrigued to see what she comes up with on her upcoming album. Good Girl Gone Bad was a good album, and dare I say, better than I Am…Sasha Fierce (cherish the moment, because I guarantee you’re likely to see me vote Republican before you get me to say Rihanna is superior to Beyonce in any way again).

I think what’s helped me warm to her is that between forcing her down my throat, Def Jam has allowed her time to develop as an artist. If you were born before the first Home Alone you might remember a time when music executives actually gave their acts with potential more than one album to find a sound and image that worked for them. It’s the difference between an artist like Rihanna coming full circle and girls like Teairra Mari still trying to pull it all together (blame her daddy).

The only thing left for Rihanna to develop are her performance skills. That will likely require a combination of dance classes and prayer, but I’m hoping she gets that together. I believe that’s the difference in her becoming an artist with a career like Beyonce or one more reminiscent of Jennifer Lopez’s music career. Either way, I’m glad I’ve come to appreciate her for more than her impressive forehead.

I’m really proud of myself. A year ago I only started liking her for shallow reasons. Now I can say I like her for actual talent. Am I finally now seeing the light or do I never need to drink out of Chris Brown’s sippy cup again?

Go You

One of my biggest fears growing up was that my mother would be murdered. The thought alone haunted me enough so I can’t imagine what it’s like to have such a horrible thing happen. I’m sure she’s still haunted more than I could ever understand, but for her first public appearance since the death of her mother, brother, and nephew, she was amazing. Honestly, I’m proud of her for simply showing up let alone delivering a great performance.

Say what you want about Jennifer Hudson, but in this instance I just want to celebrate someone handling tragedy in such a triumphant way.

Dear Ciara…

If you haven’t blown up, by now, you will never ever never ever. You will never ever never ever.

By the way, Janet called. She said, “Like a moth to a flame, burn by the fire. My ass ain’t blind, I can see your desire. Get your own damn swag.”

I’m trying ya’ll, but the only thing of hers I like is the song with Lil’ Jon. Go figure.