WHY WON’T YOU LET THE VMAS BE GREAT?!

I feel bad for Janet. I can only imagine how many catfish po’boys one of my favorite people in the world passed on just to get close to her normal fighting weight in time to pay tribute to her brother. Yet despite as great a job as she did in honoring the King of Pop she’s since been overshadowed by the Queen of Copping An Attitude.

Do I even have to write yet another soliloquy on why Kanye ain’t shit for pulling this stunt? Like I tweeted yesterday, ya’ll know how queens get about Beyonce. But let this be a lesson to you:

Brown will cause folks to frown. If I were Diddy, last nite I would’ve got on stage and told folks that’s why ya’ll shouldn’t drink brown liquor as I held a bottle of Ciroc close to my heart.

Though the apology has since been taken down, at least he was quick to acknowledge his wrongdoing. Still, this really didn’t change my point of view about him because of this statement:
“I’M NOT CRAZY YALL, I’M JUST REAL.”

And in turn a bunch of his stans/enablers respond with, “He just said what we all were thinking.”

So? That doesn’t mean we should jump on stage and steal someone’s moment away when we feel a certain way about it. A teenager’s moment at that.

I’m really tired of people who feel they can excuse their antics by claiming to be overcome with emotion. If you have that great a problem containing yourself it’s time to look into seeking professional help. Seriously. Get a hug, get some God, get a prescription — whatever you think will prevent you from looking like an erratic jackass.

‘Ye’s second apology is much better:

I feel like Ben Stiller in “Meet the Parents” when he messed up everything and Robert De Niro asked him to leave… That was Taylor’s moment and I had no right in any way to take it from her. I am truly sorry.

This guy is a character. But, he did say he was a pop culture enthusiast, so I’ll let him be great…even though he couldn’t afford Taylor that same luxury. Shade.

Speaking of shade, didn’t Lil’ Mama scold that tranny on Dance Bitch Dance (I don’t remember the name of the show, sorry) for not being lady like? What’s lady like about hopping on stage during someone else’s performance like you belong?

This is probably why Bow Wow’s parents left his long lost twin sister on that stoop in Brooklyn (ya’ll can’t convince me those two aren’t related or the same person).

Now on to the people who didn’t embarrass anyone.

That is, at least not for pulling any dumb moves on stage. Look, I’m not here to try and justify Lady GaGa killing a vulture and demanding that her stylist put it around her neck so wouldn’t be able to move it until the next outfit change. Say what you want about her choices in fashion, but the woman can perform.

She is by far the most interesting pop start to come since Madonna. This is exactly why I blogged about her. She’s refreshing. She might dress up as a pre-op tranny in a cat suit at the next big award show, but as long as she’s singing, dancing, and offering an elaborate stage set up such as the one last nite I’ll hand her my pair of socks.

That blood flowing from GaGa can either represent the death of Christina Aguilera’s career or my interest in Britney Spears as a performer. Your choice.

As usual Beyonce killed it. I don’t care if this is the millionth + seven time Beyonce has performed “Single Ladies.” She continually puts her all into her stage act and is by far the best entertainer of the year. And her performance was recession-friendly. No major theatrics, no fireworks — just hot choreography, a great face, and lots of energy.

I’m also thrilled that she continues to dispel the myth that she is the biggest bitch on Earth. I don’t know why people continue to project their own insecurities onto her, but Beyonce constantly reminds people that she is a class act. It’s becoming less common for videos to make a fuss in pop culture, so for “Singles Ladies” to dominate the way it did it’s only right Beyonce be awarded Video of the Year.

Earlier in the night Beyonce said if she wanted any award it was that so for her to give up her time to let Taylor have her moment says a lot.

And if you don’t like well, here you go.

Before we close it out:

Perez has some nerve. He spends day after day throwing salt on Beyonce’s name, yet here he is in his mama’s old curtains grinning like a fool when in front of her.

Where is that Tyra Banks episode of her wearing her real hair when you need? I thought this girl was making Euros now? That’s OK, Kelly. I love you…even if your weave lady doesn’t.

I know a Selena sequel is out of the question, but what will it take to get her back to the J.Lo of 2001?

Joe Joe, who this woman?

I initially thought Madonna’s intro was a little self-indulgent, but I was honestly paying too close attention to the Tweets. Upon looking it over again, I enjoyed it and I appreciated her sharing something so personal. One thing threw me off upon the second viewing:

Yikes. I don’t mind her dressing like an extra on True Blood, because all black fits the occasion, but what’s good with her hands? Those are the hands of a woman who helped built the Arc. It’s Madonna, though, so I suppose I’ll let it slide and look away…fast.

All and all this was the best VMAs in years. I’m not sure if they’ll be able to top this considering I didn’t know who in the hell half the people nominated for VMAs were and I doubt MTV did either. But let’s give them credit where credit is due.

Now let me stop typing before Lil’ Mama shows up in my room and hops on my keyboard.

Jimmy Dean Jr.

I vaguely heard about some fat kid yearning for some pork on Twitter, but it wasn’t until this morning when I checked my inbox that I witnessed kirkin’ Curtis.

I’m not even sure where to begin.

Curtis himself sounds old enough to have owned the first slave. Or at the very least he’s old enough to know that Colonel Sanders stole his chicken recipe. Whatever century you want to place him in I think we can all agree that Captain Curt is probably shit’n on your SAT scores.

As smart as he is, his intellect doesn’t excuse him being a disrespectful little child who appears to need a James Evan inspired ass whooping. I don’t know how it works in bacon land, but ’round my way you don’t talk to an adult like that and if you do don’t be surprised that your baby teeth are on the floor and the Tooth Fairy was given the wrong directions to your pillow.

Making matters worse is that the kid is spazzing over not being able to get some bacon.

OK, so my past life as a pork-loving porker understands why he’s obsessed with munching on Miss Piggy (pause…or something). But that only means it falls on the responsibility of his parents to inform him that this woman involved in the wife swap is not named Miss Millie so you shouldn’t talk to her in that manner.

My friend that sent me this video pointed out that I used to eat a sausage sandwich of death myself.

Let me break that breakfast sandwich down for ya’ll.

It was called the “Extreme Sausage Sandwich.” It had two big sausage patties, an egg, and some cheese on a bun.

I had it without the egg as I’m not all that keen on processed mystery eggs on my sammiches.

In hindsight, I know eating that was wrong and if I continued to eat like that I’d probably be calling this blog “The Extra Large Ones.”

Now if this little boy ever found out about this sandwich, what are the chances that he would try to bodyslam me for it — then demand Jack in the Box slap six pieces of bacon on top?

That’s why I hope in the long run someone educates this kid about nutrition.

It should go without saying that videos like these illustrate why America’s children are heading for a life that could be best summarized by these three words: “I Be Strokin’.”

Sadly, I see some people in the comments section of the site featuring this video see nothing wrong with Curtis’ attitude or appetite:

Annette

Oh come on! I thought this kid was very impressive. A little bacon never hurt anyone. Give me a break, so he is a little chubby, nothing a little proportion size cutting cant fix. Balance is the key, but Damn he should be a lawyer, I thought he put up a pretty good argument and he was very tactful about it! So what! Protein isss good for you. Only a vegetarian will tell you otherwise.

Who wants to bet Annette hasn’t left her couch in seven years?

Regardless of how you feel about having Porky Pig in the morning, I think we can all agree that this kid deserves his own show. I’m not quite sure if there’s a tiara hiding underneath that hair of his but to be on the safe side I suggest producers have ample amounts of BLTs on set. Fat boys bring fury when there’s food missing.

Never Trust A Man Who Looks Like A California Raisin

Jermaine Jackson is living proof of why you should never trust a man who looks too greasy.

I think I can officially declare that he is my least favorite Jackson. Tito never hurt anyone. Katherine is too nice for words. Marlon and Randy could be the worst two people who ever walked the globe, but since I can barely remember they’re alive it’s hard to judge them so they get an automatic pass. Janet is everything…or at least used to be. Rebbie, well, you’ve heard “Centipede,” haven’t you?

Now LaToya is certainly an opportunist who is arguably bat shit crazy, but when you’re the only Jackson born without an ounce of rhythm life has got to be rough for you. Especially when you chopped off your nose to look all fancy and end up being rumored to be a knock off version of your kid brother. She can’t win, she can’t break even and she can’t get out of the game.

Of course, Papa Joe is first cousins with Satan so I imagine many of you are asking, “Why doesn’t he top your list?” Joe is under Jermaine on the Jacked Up Jackson list because of one thing and one thing only: He’s trill about his.

Joe makes it very clear that he’s all about the money.

I’m sure that old Dinosaur Negro wakes up everyday singing, “C.R.E.A.M. Get the money. Dollar, dollar bill ya’ll.”

I may not like it, but I can appreciate that he’s honest about his intentions (probably not to the tax man, though). He’s a Moneysaurus Rex. Always has been. Always will be.

Jermaine, on the other hand, is acting like we can’t tell his motives are rooted in his desire to boost his fledgling career.

I’m not old enough to remember Jermaine had three and a half hits and recorded with Whitney Houston. I only know those fun facts because my older sister happened to like one of his songs.

But, I’ve since heard while he’s certainly acted as a spokesperson for the Jackson family on all issues related to Michael in years past, he was planning to release some tell-all book in which he roasted his little brother. Granted, he’s got 50-11 kids to take care of, but you don’t do that to family. LaToya did it, and that’s why her psychic hot line failed.

The more I hear about Jermaine, the less I like him. There are stories that he harbored some deep seated jealously towards Michael. That he knocked up his brother’s wife, then his wife, then his brother’s wife again.

He’s what the old folks would call “a nasty man.” Or a dirty muthafucka…take your pick.

I was fortunate enough to be at the Michael Jackson memorial so I caught Jermaine Jackson’s “tribute” to Michael.

I recall a press release saying Jermaine would “bring the house down” with is rendition of “Smile.” Yeah, someone was looking to get it in. Then they released his cover on iTunes. All of that to me suggests this had more to do with Jermaine keeping up with his supply of Luster’s than honoring baby brother.

And now this concert.

Of all places in the world you choose Vienna in Austria? Because you think it’s a fancy city with history.

Why not keep it 100: Say these people hit you up because you’re last name is Jackson and in Europe, that’s an automatic winning lottery ticket. And since people are so passionate about Michael they’ll do anything to honor him. You need the money, they’ll give it to you. The end.

Once I found out mama Kat had an issue with Jermaine doing this concert and that Janet is reuniting with MTV to do a real tribute to the King of Pop, it became all the more clearer with Juice Head was up to.

I hope that Michael Jackson is somewhere sitting with Biggie Smalls and Nipsey Russell, eating a bucket of KFC and threatening to body slam Biggie Smalls if he reaches for a wing as the three of them watch The Color Purple.

That way Michael can stop teaching Biggie to moonwalk long enough to focus on this all important quote from the movie:

Until you do right by me everything you think about is gonna crumble!

Let the record show that already acts like Chris Brown and Mary J. Blige have backed out of the show, while others like Natalie Cole are already writing in dates in their daily planners to get out of performing.

Karma doesn’t play that, Jermaine.

Shamon.

Should I Come With Wings?

This daunting question hit me harder than a backhand from an R&B pop locker over the holiday weekend.

On Sunday I spent the day with friends and eventually we made our way to some party at a hotel in Hollywood.

Now, I tend not to say where I’m living or anything else too private because I don’t need one of ya’ll sending my whereabouts to some celebrity who might use their last royalty check to off me.

Then again, Twitter has shown most celebrities only deal with “beef” in 140 characters or less so these days the worst one could do is start a trending topic on my ass.

Back on point, I’m at a party and for a good hour or so I was bored out of my mind.

The thing about LA is the nightlife typically sucks. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Here’s a break down of the typical night in an LA club.

First hour: Everyone is looking down at their phones texting and tweeting people standing two feet away from them.

Second hour: Everyone stands around trying to look important.

Third hour: After a few drinks, a couple of folks will get up and two-step and body roll.

At 1:45 a.m. the lights turn on and everyone is shown the exit door.

Yes, LA shuts down at 2:00 a.m.

I know, I know: “How dreadful.”

On top of that pretentious nonsense, DJs usually have the nerve to play some bullshit you can’t even sweat to.

I believe people will say I don’t know what I’m talking about then try to insert various club names and the choice celebrities who frequent them. Yeah, I’ve been to most of those spots already and surveyed the D-Listers who frequent them. My statement stands.

I don’t care who you’re with, how much money you have, and the like. If the music sucks, the night sucks. The end. That’s pretty much why I tend look at going out here as a social networking (the old fashion way, of course).

But damn, the jig is in me and if I’m going to live here for a while I need a release every now and then.

I am a southern boy so I tend to like my party music ign’t and jiggable.

Since folks in La La land tend to think that sort of sound comes with a virus you’re more liable to hear this:

…than you would Gucci Mane.

That means for a good hour or so on Sunday (like most nights), I was pretty much like this:

To make up for the non-dancing time I did what any person with a cell phone would do: I tweeted about my disappointment.

Y’know I loves Michael Jackson, but we can stop playing the same five songs in the club now.

I don’t want to sway and two step, dammit. I want to break it, pop it, twirk it.

Why won’t the DJ let me be great?! We don’t play “In Da Club” in ’09 you loser!!!!!!!

Feel the frustration?

Finally, this DJ claiming to be from the South (not until I see a birth certificate will I believe it) remembered where she was from and played some music I could lose my self-respect to.

So I got to drop it to the ground and throw up the Clarke for two seconds. Sad part is the DJ claims to be from the H. I bet she is lying.

That’s my happy tweet.

I tell my brother what happened (for the umpteenth time) and he goes, “Your bird ass.”

This isn’t the first time I’ve been called a bird.

Actually, I get called it at least twice a week. But after that night and the way I danced after I finally heard something I liked, I had to wonder whether or not it’s true.

Am I Toucan Sam? The NBC Peacock? Big Bird the Black Remix?

Tweety with a penis (I know he’s supposed to be a boy, but at the very least, shim takes hormones or something)?

As I wrote this blog, I turned to AIM to ask a smartass for their thoughts. They responded in true smartass fashion.

Smartass: U can’t help it

Smartass: U know where u grew up

Smartass: U aware of the bird ways but u aren’t one

Smartass: But at times it comes out.

It is concluded that I was not a bird, but birdish.

Others still say I’m Snuffaluffagus’ BFF.

If that is indeed the case, is it simply because I enjoy songs that have hard beats, simple yet catchy hooks, and the occasional instructional dance?

That’s not fair. I could be far worse.

Exhibit A. Her cakes should come with feathers, a biscuit, and a package of Cajun sparkle.

Alright folk, chime in. What makes a pigeon a pigeon and should people start throwing little pieces of bread at me or what?

I actually prefer cash, but you know. I mean it’s not like I’m dating a person with 77 kids or singing along to “LOL ” — blah.

B-Day

Of course, I didn’t forget. Back to business as usual soon, but until then channel your inner Creole and wish the Queen a Happy Birthday.

Diddy Wouldn’t Be Pleased, Aubrey (But I Understand)

When I watch this clip the first idea that pops into my head is to not burn Aubrey O’ Day at the stake. I’d much rather call up Aubrey’s publicist and beg him or her to go to seek a new career path. Evidently, public relations is not the field for them.

While I think it’s obvious that Aubrey would appear at the opening of a letter with bells on, why on Earth would her camp choose to book her on Hannity’s show? No good could come from such a thing. She would have done herself a favor grabbing a flip camera and shooting herself talking to a schizophrenic. The latter option would easily be a lot more thought provoking programming anyway.

But hey, what’s done is done and now Aubrey’s going to have to catch hell for daring to have an unpopular opinion that can be easily misconstrued by a media whore that’s built a career off twisting facts and inciting political hysteria.

I don’t really get the big deal, but that’s mainly due to me realizing this is more so an issue of semantics than a question of morals and sensibility.

Because the word “brilliant” has a positive connotation to it, those who feel the likes of Fidel Castro and Adolf Hitler are far too heinous of characters to have such a label attributed to them were bound to be up in arms in someone calling them anything but villainous.

Yet, had Aubrey used a phrase like “evil genius” to describe those leaders I get the feeling not many as people would be irritated by her comments.

To me, that’s plain silly.

Aubrey didn’t call these men good people. She didn’t say they haven’t committed crimes. What she said was they were brilliant, and honestly, she’s not wrong.

Yes, Adolf Hitler is a murder. A a mad men with the most evil of intentions. Still, this a person who used his oratory skills to command the attention and ultimately, blind allegiance of nearly an entire nation of people. People already pissed off about the results of the first World War, mind you. In that aspect, his ability to control and manipulate people to do his bidding suggests some significant form of intelligence that could be branded brilliance.

How many of ya’ll have gotten an entire nation to be at your mercy?

You probably can’t even get the girl at the drive-thru with the funky attitude to get your order right.

And my friend, the brilliant Shani over at Post Bourgie reminded me, say what you will about Cuba, but in terms of health care and education they exceed us.

Cuba may be stuck in the 1950s due to the trade embargo, but more of them can read in their country than ours. Do I want to move to Cuba and drink mojitos all day? Hell no, but that fun fact about their literary rates and health care stats is embarrassing all the same.

Not to mention, Fidel is certainly not without flaws (and then some), and arguably has not been the kindest towards his people, but Fidel is no fool. Moreover, need I remind you that many of those Cubans in Miami who are pissed at the bad girl of Danity Kane aren’t all that fond of people who look like me either.

Of course, not all, but let’s not ignore the fact that Fidel banished many of those Cubans who turned their noses up at that darker fellow countrymen. That has a bit to do with their disdain, but it doesn’t negate that Fidel Castro is no idiot.

So, needless to say, Aubrey could have chosen her words in addition to where she offers them a lot more carefully. However, some of ya’ll are acting like she said forget Jesus, Heil Hitler.

Last time I checked: She still loves God, she’s not pro-Hitler, and my goodness, folk, why be pressed about a pop star’s opine on the state of world affairs anyway?

Someone please make sure that Kim Kardashian keeps her two cents out of the health care reform debate.