Whenever I hear people point out that one doesn’t have to wait until New Year’s to begin their resolutions I stop to look out at the sky and wait for these folks to also remind me that the shit is still blue.
As obvious as it is to point out that anyone can attempt a new lease on life on any given day of the week, it’s just as obvious to realize that symbolism means something to many. You look to the start of the New Year with a clean slate and thus, set your goals around it.
To that end, I’d like to share some New Year’s Resolutions for myself and those who need it the most.
1. I will try so hard (yeah, yeah, so hard) to be less prideful.
2. I will give Ciara another chance. I’ve been so mean to her, ya’ll. In my defense, she was on that bullshit so I had no other choice. However, now that her producers are saying she’s taking it back to her Goodies days, I’m going to give her one last time before I call Waffle House for a job on her behalf.
3. Travel. Where? I’m not telling, but I bet if more folks hit that donate button on the side of the page and dropped some coins there wherever I end up going t would be a lot spiffier. Just a thought.
4. Work on my jig and twirk. It’s competent, but not what it used to be. Think the current state of Mariah Carey’s voice. Wait, Mariah Carey’s voice on a good day. I’ve never been that off with the right liquid in my system. Still love you, Mimi.
5. Be better about certain things. No, I’m not owning up to them on here. I showed ya’ll my scalp yesterday. Have I not given enough?
Now on to the ones who need it most:
This girl has the depth of a wad of spit on cement on a hot summer’s day and the energy levels of a three legged-dog two hours from death on stage. She ought to read a book, take a dance class, and find her bra. Or at least find a consistent key to sing in and two-step to pon de replay to engage the people who could care less about seeing her bare breasts every other day.
P.S. I still like the album, though.
A muzzle. His computer privileges revoked.
A clue that he is the new Ja Rule only with a bigger bank account. Sure he’s still around and getting his thespian on. Still, taking DMX’s place as the black Steven Segal doesn’t make you any less musically irrelevant.
Have a baby by you?! Negro, no one cares.
For Beyoncé I suggest a new weave, a new p-pop, and a push towards something along the lines of that soul album she promised us at the beginning of the decade. If that doesn’t happen, at least something less adult-contemporary sounding on the new album. A break wouldn’t kill her, but c’mon nah, ya’ll know how she is.
Find the number to Mary J. Blige’s vocal coach.
Get a vasectomy.
A hobby because singing isn’t it. I actually like Omarion. Mainly for an aesthetic reason, but liking somebody for any reason is enough, right? I guess not because I can’t co-sign that new album. I heard the preview of it. It sounds like Omarion posturing himself as some thuggish balladeer (it’s meant to sound oxymoronic) as he regurgitates every tired contemporary R&B male singer cliché of the last three years. Chris Brown could take a piss on Michael Jackson’s grave live on TV and still have more hit potential than this guy.
To shut up. He takes overcompensation to new and embarrassing heights.
Find a Nicotine patch and the will to learn to sing in her new voice. Respectfully, she’s been talk-singing and carrying it via emotion (hers and yours) for the past few months. It’s a step-up from performances given in recent years, but ultimately that won’t go far on any future recordings. Gon’ record a jazz album and let some real pain out. Less stress on her damaged voice and perhaps a newfound appreciation for the voice of “New Nippy.”
Self-love. Some new teeth wouldn’t hurt either.
Get her groove back. And some new weave.
I love this girl, but if her reality show is to continue in the next decade I’m going to need her and producers to find a plot for this show and run with it. Multiple episodes in and I’m confused and often bored with what I’m watching.
Please don’t shoot me, Mo. I’m still buying Still Standing.
To stay wherever the hell she’s been hiding.
Try to record an album that more than seven people will like and monetarily support.
Just stop. Whatever it is she’s doing and consuming, just stop.
Try not to burn up next year.
Stop singing. I’m not sure what gave her the idea that we ever wanted her to sing-rap, but when your last hit features you spitting hot fire (©Dylan) that ought to tell you something. Hurry before Nicki Minaj truly makes it harder for any of your two and a half other female rappers to get any light.
Go back to the way way she was during the first season of The Real Housewives of Atlanta before Bravo checks her, boo.
A lil’ less volume, suga.
Find purpose. And no, famous for the sake of no longer counts.
Get a haircut. Sit the hell down. In that order. Don’t need him fucking up anymore of Katherine’s couches.
Head on over to Social Security. If he wants a check, they’ll have one there waiting after he fills out some paperwork.
Every major recording artist of the day.
Stop working with the same damn people.
Try actual change.
Stop annoying people.
Meet someone other than a racist white southerner to talk to.
See Chris Brown.
The heads of the financial industry
Fall down. Don’t ever get back up.
U.S. Intelligence Community
Do your damn jobs.
For everyday people:
1. Stop passing off refrigerator wisdom as the gospel. Or if you could be so kind, embrace whatever motivates but do so in a way that’s less irritating to the rest of us. I swear some people think because they’ve read Rev. Run’s wisdom they’re automatically swimming the deepest in the pool and is two quotes away from penning their own self-help novel.
“The sun is shining, but not when it rains. God is love.” – Rev. Run
“Scooby Dooby Doo, where are you? No really…where are you? Where are any of us?”
Repeating quotes like this doesn’t make ya’ll deep folks. No one should be pressed to seem “deep” anyway.
2. Stop doing bullshit like this.
Obviously this girl wasn’t hugged enough as a child and has some serious parental issues. Maybe it’s mean, but I hope this girl has fertility issues. I understand this is a systematic problem, but goodness, I specifically don’t want her producing anymore sad statistics like this. One by one we can win.
3. And this shit, too. Look at this fool.
First off, I’m really trying to continue to cling to the belief that some people should be allowed to be free to do what they want regardless of what rigid gender norms dictate, but c’mon nah, this muthafucka looks stupid.
He’s not even the type of fat person who develops man-boobs so why he even bothered to steal his little sister’s training bra for this photo shoot is beyond me.
Fat fail. Penile fail. Parentail. Fuckery fail. JUST FAIL. Make it stop. NOW!
4. If you’re an attention whore and/or opportunist please own up to it. I hate when people try to guise their intentions with some pseudo positivity nonsense. Be straight up. Most will appreciate you for it.
P.S. Not everyone is meant to be “famous.” Reality TV has given way too many false hopes.
5. TELL MORE PEOPLE ABOUT MY SITE.
Sorry for screaming, but I’m anxious folks. 2010 is all about getting you, your cousins, and your folks with connects to know about me and my writing.
This year I’ve noticed more and more people are finding my little spot and I’m so grateful. But I want more to find so how about I blog more and in return everyone who digs the site spreads it all around to people? Deal?
And yes, I had to end this entry with self-promotion. I’m not crazy.
Happy New Year, all!