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In the latest edition of my series, “Shut Up, Michele Bachmann,” I highlight how she can’t demand people lay off your husband because he’s not the one running for office when she makes a habit out of swinging from Michelle Obama.

And you know, other stuff, too. Click here to check it out.

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Two steps forward, two steps back. You closet homo, the media will never back away from the “attacks.”

And it’s a good thing, too, ’cause I think Eddie Long deserves every bit of bad press he’s getting. I had a feeling that whatever was to come of the sexual coercion lawsuit filed against him we weren’t going to know much else about it once a resolution was reached. That irritated me a bit given it helps prolong the discussion I think we collectively need to have about religion and sexuality. And of course self-hating bigots like Bishop Eddie Long and the effect their ant-gay diatribes has on the community at large.

I can at least take a consolation prize: This bad-toupee wearing sum’bitch is still being put on blast.

I know it’s not right to take enjoyment in other people’s misery, but Bishop Long has said such vile things about gay people that I can’t help but smirk a little at him reaping what he sows. And judging from Fox News 5’s report, he’ll be reaping for a little while longer.

Now, it’s kind of clear they could care less about Centino’s music and judging from the snippet of “Pornography,” I don’t blame them. Shoot, they’re kind of playing him on the low over it. But at least he’s getting promotion he otherwise would never have gotten — unless he won some Neffe lookalike contest or something. More importantly, even if he won’t comment on anything directly at least another name and face is being added to Long’s seemingly lengthy history of sexual relationships with men despite spending much of his career condemning such behavior.

Even before this all broke out I knew that fake Bishop wasn’t worth the pew he spewed from. Here, here for more folks doing their parts to prove it.

In the meantime, do check out some of the articles I’ve penned about that pathetic moron:

Bishop Long and What’s Long Overdue for Christians (for Aol News)

Eddie Long Can’t Cash in on Creflo Dollar’s Support (for The Root)

Gon’ head, it’s not like you’re about to go search for Centino’s “Pornography” on iTunes or YouTube.

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I haven’t said anything about Hillary Rodham Clinton on this site since the presidential primary. She irritated the hell out of me with her false senses of entitlement and embracement of race-baiting politics largely spurred by her own desperation. However, while I did criticize her politics I didn’t give a single damn to her affinity for pantsuits. Even as a child I felt that sort of criticism was stupid and shallow. Over time I realize how ridiculously sexist it was to boot.

Frankly, it’s not surprising to see a bunch of tragic straight men act like Hillary Clinton wanted to single handily rip every man’s dick off because she wasn’t your cookie baking spouse. I suppose it’s not surprising to see an older gay man fall in line with that patriarchal view, too, but it’s no less disappointing.

As Jezebel pointed out, he paid lip service to Secretary of State Clinton’s long list of accomplishments before going into some trivial rant about the way she dressed. He hissed, “Why must she dress that way? All these big, baggy, menswear tailored pantsuits.  I think she’s confused about her gender!”

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I haven’t written about the Baby Mamas of Miami Beach since that one post back in 2010, but let’s just say I got over my initial skepticism of the show’s cast members enough to enjoy it for what it is: a glorious mess.  For the record, I don’t think these women are bringing down my race. Do they make women look bad? Maybe, but so do The Real Housewives of New Jersey, The Real Housewives of New York, and The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.

Every group has an embarrassing faction of itself acting a fool on reality TV — and I tend to watch too many of them do so. Sue me. On second thought, don’t. I’m not trying to end up like Tami Roman.

Speaking of Tami Roman, my post-Real World idea of her was nothing more than that drunk auntie who might be one or two swings away from needing an anger management course and or a 12-step program, but for the most part was okay. After the last episode of Basketball Wives, I’d like to change my description to Tami Roman is nothing more than Deebo with a period. She’s a bully. A loud and aging bully who will likely meet her Craig in a retirement villa. Actually, she’ll probably meet several of them there.

While people cheered Tami on as she mushed Meeka over in some nice Italian man’s club, I started to think how much of a sucker she is. I mean, you huff and you puff yet when you get a clear aim at somebody all you you do is mush them in the face when they turn their head to speak to someone else. Not that I’m advocating violence – I’m not – it’s just that if you’re going to act like you’re so tough, why fight like such a weakling?

Ye ain’t bad, Tami. Ye ain’t nothing. Achahoo…and shit.

Hell, I’m glad Meeka is suing you. Maybe it will teach you some decorum (not much or anything…you are on VH1). I don’t know why those two never got along anyway. They’re both pressed as hell to be popular with the other women on the show. Thirsty ass people ought to share the sippy cup.

Tami’s not ’bout that life, though, and obviously Meeka’s not about getting attacked when she turns to speak to the walking teapot that is Suzie Ketchum.

But we can go back and forth all day about Tami’s sucker moves. Actually, wait, let me get one more thing out: Notice that after Tami sucker mushed Meeka and lunged at her as if she wasn’t about to do anything but wait for security to pull her off, notice that Meeka had Tami’s upgraded weave (better than that stuff she got at the gas station while waiting on her order of Lo mein and for her kids to pump $5 on #10) and the head it was glued to in a headlock.

Yeah, Tami. You’re so bad. Don’t let anybody sit down next to you.

Okay, I’m done now.

I stumbled along this video yesterday and I’d like to make a public service announcement on behave of people who know better: Dumb and/or country ass black people, please stop assuming that turning on your “professional voice” magically hypnotizes folks into believing whatever bullshit you have to say.

In terms of reality TV, this seems to come from the NeNe Leakes guide to ass backwards thinking.

I’ve met plenty of people in my own life who fall in line with this dimwitted logic and I now worry if videos like these will only make more people fall for the trap.

Trying to sound smart while explaining your dumb ass behavior only makes you look worse. So please do us all a favor and cut the shit.

And for the record, Tami, if that suit actually went to trial, this stupid little speech you’re giving in this video   wouldn’t work. That nonsense about “burden of proof” is dense, too. Uh, you hit her. She didn’t provoke you. She turned her head and you mushed her. You also have a history of swinging at people in their seats. Sounding “fancy, huh” won’t negate any of that.

That said, gon’ book some club dates or hit Meeka on Twitter like, “Yeah, girl can you send me a DM ’cause I was trippin'” and save yourself some trouble. We saw you, girl, and you reminding us that you can read isn’t going to change any of that.

This message was brought to you by the Center of Negroes Who Need Y’all [redacted] To Quit.

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I can’t think of the exact period in time that I discovered Amy Winehouse. I want to say it was a little under two or three years after Frank was released in the U.K. It doesn’t matter. I heard her.

What I do remember is that after I watched the clips of Amy Winehouse performing posted on a message board, I had a feeling I would love her. After listening to the album constantly over the course of a week, I knew I did.

Most of all, I knew that I discovered her music at the exact moment I needed to. After ignoring the obvious for far too long, I finally accepted that the person I was in love with – the first man I had ever dated – did not feel the same way about me. His “confusion” was teetering on indifference, and after awhile I’d rather be told, “Fuck you!” versus “I don’t know.”

So, I started to pull away. And then I ended up essentially making the same mistake twice: falling in love with someone who would never give me what I wanted. I wasn’t trying to fall in love with him. I just did. And I did so deeper than the first time. That’s why I loved Frank so much. Before Amy would become swallowed by sadness, the varying styles on her debut showed as much versatility in herself as an artist as it did Amy as a person. She obviously had concerns about whether or not she would find love, but she was young — young enough to still give herself enough time to believe. Unfortunately, it seemingly was for the wrong reasons.

I could relate.

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I don’t know if you’ve heard, but there are men – and yes, that means black men – who have sex with other men, only they don’t identify as gay. And so, they might be in denial. So deep in denial that they have girlfriends. Which I suppose means they lead double lives. We should give them a name to help spread the word.

Let’s shoot for something super duper catchy. Uh, dicks and dopes. No, that’s not any good.

Wait, I got this.

How about poking pretenders? Too vulgar? Probably so.

Wait, wait. I think I’ve got it now. We can call them down low brothers. Yeah, that’s it.

So let’s do humanity a favor. Let’s tell everyone that we know via TV, radio, the Web, and print that there are some black men who have sex with who other black men but might have girlfriends, which means they live on the down low.

Do y’all think y’all can do that for me?

Oh, no, silly me, that trend started damn near 20 years ago.

Well, if that is the case why are we still talking about “down low brothers” as if this is something new and interesting?

I don’t go out of my way to knock people’s hustles, but how much longer can we keep up this narrative about the scary black double dipper?

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Following my transition from devout Catholic in training to varsity-level skeptic my thoughts about the Devil have become largely nonexistent over time. I reached Satan overload years ago, though. I used to hear about the Devil and his ways non-stop in my house. To the point where I believed the motherfucker owed my mama rent. How he made this person act this way; how he brought all of this sadness and anger into the world; how at some point in my lifetime Jesus was finally going to knock the sum’bitch out in the ultimate Celebrity Deathmatch (paraphrasing).

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I know the idea that President Obama has had it so much worse than previous presidents because of his race is a popular one, but is it necessarily true? Not until someone says the current president is running a drug and money laundering ring and has fathered a half-black baby. Don’t remember? That’s what I’m here for.

Check out my latest piece for The Grio on race and President Obama here.

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We all have a right to our opinions, but that doesn’t necessarily mean we should encourage people to cling to such stupid ones. Especially if the opinions in question will more than likely stunt their growth. Enter Cadillac Kimberly, who I’ve noticed in the last two weeks is not particularly fond of gay people. She doesn’t specifically say so, though. No, she wraps it up in the bow of being a Christian woman that essentially hates the sin but loves the sinner.

Or some bullshit like that.

Though she is free to hold this point of view, as a southern black female comic looking to make inroads in the entertainment industry what are the chances of her getting far with tweets like this:

I’m pretty sure Tracy Morgan can answer. As can today’s Eddie Murphy, who has since apologized for his homophobic tirades back in the 1980s. You can chalk it up to hypersensitivity spurred by political correctness or people finally waking up, but there aren’t too many entertainment mediums left where you can blatantly compare gay people to drug abusers, murderers, or perverts.

It’s for good reason, too: The comparisons are ignorant as fuck. So you know I’m about to put this hypocritical country crock of shit she released onto the Web on full blast now, right?

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For years now, I’ve shaded the state of California for lifting their dances from rappers in Dallas, Texas. And before you dare try it, see Lil’ Will’s Dougie and a dance called the rack daddy. Yeah, I thought so.

So yes, a few rappers out in sunny Cali have a problem with taking things that don’t belong to them. It’s shame, too, considering their rich history of originality.  However, I have to give it to California rappers: One of them has tried to come up with their own thing.

As soon as I giveth, I must now taketh away: This is the worst dance I’ve seen since that shit Missy tried to get us to do in the “Get Ur Freak On” video. I wish CaliKiddRome all the luck in the world with his rap career, but this dance isn’t the move. In fact, this dance looks a lot like that same move Chilli is always doing on stage whenever TLC performs.

I mean, technically it has all of the components of a mindless dance that would get kids and people like who me who should know better to embrace it. The song attached to it  offers a simple yet familiar beat. The song’s lyrical content is so dense that no one ever really remembers any of the lines until the song is playing (and even then it’s just the hook). Everything is there except the dance itself. The nonsense they’re doing in this clip makes you long for the sophistication of dances like “Laffy Taffy.”

By the way, I’d like to know what is Kel Mitchell doing in the video? Keenan is on Saturday Night Live and this is all you’ve got to do, man? Maybe they saw him drunk at a local taqueria and said to him, “Hey, wanna be in a video?” That’s the only way his cameo will make sense to me.

As for the other trendy folks who take part in the presentation of “G Swagg,” I’d like to note that I’ve actually seen fake Chad Hugo and the Justin Bieber impersonator out before. They were trying to have a House Party-like dance off at some random “fashion show” (that I went to see a friend…and an open bar). Had they not move like Kid ‘n Play high off too much medication for treatment of arthritis leg pain maybe more people would’ve joined in on the “fun.” All they did was sober me up.

I’m pretty sure California is much better than this. So with that said, I encourage the resident regional rappers to dust themselves off and try again. The G-Swagg isn’t going to happen. Trust me. No one outside of CaliKiddRome’s cousins are going to do this. He’ll probably have to pay his cousins in Fun Dip packets to do this on stage with him, too.

And Cali locals reading this blog, don’t take it as shade to you personally. You all still have the better weather and red velvet everything. Still, if you’re going to try and do a dance tune in the style of the South, you’ve got to do much better than this. Or hell, you know what? Go steal something else. Now I understand. Just pay homage this time.

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