How Did You Get Here?

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Last night after consuming ample amounts of fried chicken with a friend I engaged in one of my favorite stereotypically gay pastimes – talking about female pop stars.

I don’t remember exactly how her name came up, but I do recall saying, “You know what? I wish Mya were in a better position than she is. It’s kind of sad.”

A few hours later I stumbled along this video and realized that maybe her situation was sadder than I thought. Days ago, I read a story about Mya in which it said she was working on a new album.

I started to get a little excited – for a millisecond anyway. A few sentences later it was reported that the sound for the upcoming record was described as “electro-dance-rock.”

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In other words, something for the kids who identify with the Euro and the lighter side of the Crayola box (no offense intended).

Given the fact that she hasn’t released a commercial album via a major label since 2003, I can understand why she’s shifted her focus to sashaying abroad. It’s still rather disappointing, though.

I don’t talk about Mya much on here because well, there’s not much to say. But, just so we’re clear Ms. Harrison has a special place in my heart.

Back in the days when I tried to force myself into thinking that when it came to sexual preference, I could really be an “innie,” Mya was one of those women I looked to for “inspiration.” As in spending way too much time trying to make myself sexually more drawn to her than say, I don’t know, half the male freshman dorm.

Obviously, in the end while my hips agreed that her love was like wo, my penis remained unconvinced.

She may have failed me in that area, but I still appreciated Mya as an artist. I bought her debut album for a friend in 9th grade for Christmas. I got Fear of Flying for myself, although I ended up selling it back to Wherehouse Music for the cash. I think I might have used the money to buy a chicken sandwich from Chilli’s or something. In my defense, I was really fat then and regretted it later.

I did keep Moodring and it’s one of my favorite albums of the last decade.

She’s so talented, ya’ll. She can write, make her own beats, is a classically trained dancer, and is an expert in the ways of the gays.

Granted when the tiara crowd starts breaking into this I leave the club, she was smart enough to embrace this at a time when other sings weren’t (you know, Beyonce didn’t really go gay until B’Day).

And yet, ya’ll stop giving a damn about her. I assume it’s because she comes across as drier than the space between Dr. Laura’s legs (how’s that for free speech, you self-righteous jackass) in interviews.

She also does things that make your eyes did the sissy boo. For instance, I never understood why she appeared in The Game’s video for a song in which that misogynist referred to her as a bitch. Let a rapper call me a faggot on wax. You think I’m gonna skip around his video?

Mya also developed a habit of giving away lap dances on stage in recent years. That didn’t necessarily help her reputation, but it didn’t make me forget that the girl still has potential to make quality music.

It’s a shame the Neptunes produced track, “Backseat,” never made its way to radio. I did all that I could to promote this song by body rolling to it in public, but there’s only so much one man can do.

What is the problem? I mean, since she obviously doesn’t object going the cheeks to crotch route so whose lap does she need to hop in to get another chance with a major?

Before this video I saw shots of her with blond hair and blue contacts looking like a beauty shop don’t. Now she’s out in clubs performing Euro pop tunes that sound nothing like what made her semi-popular. All of this is like three shades of wrong. The only thing right about the first video posted is the cat suit she’ss rocking. Because you know, wrong chromosomes aside, that suit is fitting kind of right.

Insert a pause or whatever you silly uncomfortable heterosexuals say to make yourselves feel less likely to inhale chemical imbalances that alter levels of sexual attraction.

So, poll time people: Am I the only one who still thinks Mya can do something with the right team and push or does Antonio Dobson have a better chance at being crowned Miss USA?

The Illuminati seems to have canceled its contract with Ciara, Christina Milian will never get it (what a pity, but whatever) and Rihanna, well, while I’m happy she’s learned how to stay awake on stage, she’s never going to learn how to dance.

It can’t be really over, can it?

P.S. Who wants to dance to this with me?

You’ll have to be Sisqo, though. To quote the brilliant Mercedes, “I’m a Beyonce, I ain’t no Kelly Rowland.”

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