Not The Marrying Kind

In my mind, I know exactly how it should go. After months of working out with an annoying, but highly effective trainer I find myself standing in front of the mirror freakishly observing myself in an obnoxiously expensive and impeccably tailored tuxedo. It fits perfectly. Yes, I’m being self-involved. So what if I am? I’m within my right given the occasion.

One too many looks soon prompts my friends to chorus in, “Please get over yourself. We need to start.” Reality checks, they never bounce. There inside some fancy room that I can now afford (Who shot ya, Citibank?) I cue the DJ and my march begins. Well, following a celebratory shot. My nerves are bad.

Beyoncé’s “Get Me Bodied” is blaring. I proceed to jig, get it big all the way down the aisle. Not long after the participants in the front down to the back proceed to stand up and join me and the other groom as we drop down low and sweep the flo’ with it.

Imagine me like this the second after I pick it back up:

If I can’t get Beyoncé there in person, she will be there in spirit. Got dammit. The reception will be catered by Mia X, who will do double duty with a performance of “Party Don’t Stop.” The other groom and I will fill in for Foxy Brown and Master P. I’m not sure if I want to be P or Fox Boogie yet. I mean, Foxy’s voice sounds deeper on the song and her part goes much harder than Percy’s.

The reception will call for non-stop dancing to 1990s era hip-hop and R&B and southern rap of every decade. And you know, I’ll be sure the DJ throws in some Teedra Moses and tracks like Beyoncé’s “Lay Up Under Me” for the folks in need of their emo moment.

This is how my wedding would go if it were to happen. I thought of all of this way back when during a conversation with a few friends obsessed with how their weddings will go (or maybe just obsessed with getting married period). We all have friends like this and given I don’t ever intend to play the role of spoiler and avoid such a scenario at all cost, I played along. It only took a few minutes to conceive. I’m a fool with it by nature.

Now, once the New York State Senate voted to allow gay marriages (but say “marriage equality” in group settings, it sounds better for the cause) a few people mumbled verbally or electronically to me that hey, maybe one day my wedding plans will really come to fruition!

The truth is, though, I don’t see that happening. While I surely will continue to donate money and use whatever status I have as a working writer to contribute to the advancement of marriage equality (see what I did there…better, right?), I don’t anticipate myself enjoying the fruits of such labor.

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I Need Answers

1. Will this trend of people with no personalities trying to become one ever end?

2. Is a Lil’ Wayne collaboration enough for Ashanti to make a come back or will she need Lil’ Kim, Nicki Minaj, and Mary Magdalene on the remix?

3. Now that Bow Wow has confirmed he’s some little girl’s daddy where does one sign up to be fill in the role he left behind for Omarion?

4. Will someone alert Miguel that Zuul from Ghostbusters originated the hairstyle he thinks Lloyd copied off of him?

5. Does Stacey Dash have more than one expression?

6. Considering Clinton was branded a murderer, rapist, and impeached for a blow job while Bush II was long heralded as the fucking village idiot, is it fair to argue that President Obama is the most disrespected president in history?

7. Is it me or does Marsha Ambrosius sometimes sing as if she’s being chased through a haunted house?

8. Why is a Rick Ross grunt music to the ears?

9. As ecstatic as fans are to always get new music, nah, for real, what’s good on a sophomore album, Teedra Moses?

10. Can we get Tamar Braxton in the studio?

11. How many more of these “I’m going to behave even though I don’t think I did anything that bad” interviews is Lindsay Lohan going to give?

12. Which person has the bigger high: Britney Spears on her psychiatric medication or Tyrese off his own disturbing level self-importance?

13. Is Herman Cain nothing more than a politically correct Uncle Ruckus?

14. How much longer is Kanye West going to throw shots at his ex-girlfriend?

15. At one point do you tell yourself, “I gotta stop eating this bullshit and get my life right?”

16. Did Lloyd really need to become the R&B community’s answer to Bam Bam Bigelow?

17. Do you ever wonder if Afeni Shakur wants to curse out all of Maybach Music Group for “Tupac Back?”

18. Who wants to be a dear and let Jennifer Hudson know that if she decided to never try dancing again many of us would be most grateful?

19. After looking at the tracklisting, doesn’t it seem like we heard half of Kelly Rowland’s Here I Am last year?

20. Isn’t it time we foreclose on the home that keeps renting out Marvin’s room?

He Wants That Old Thing Back

It’s 4:45 a.m. and I have just discovered my new hero. Lately a wave of sadness has overcome me. It’s all rooted in my twirk. I have prided myself on my ability to dip it low, pick it up slow, roll it all around and make my back go. Pop, pop, pop, pop that thang, if you will. However, in recent weeks something has been amiss.

About a month ago I was doing my usual pre-writing all night ritual: Turning on some music and dancing really hard and ignorant to it in an effort to get my mind right. I was listening to Rihanna’s “What’s My Name?” and as I was body rolling I noticed an unnatural stiffness going on. The same for my drop. I tried to shake it off – literally – and still…nothing.

My heart began to ache. The pain only intensified as the struggle continued on at other places and times where I like to dance. You know, the gym, the side walk, the grocery store aisles. Oh and of course restaurants while breaking into random song and rap lyrics (however, make a note that I do not like karaoke). Other people noticed my growing problem and were equally taken aback.

If I’m not dancing then who am I? My best friend won’t be able to call me “Twirky” anymore. I’ll lose my “jelly knees” description. It all sounds so…wrong.

I mean, I still get it in. I’m actually in my chair body rolling to Jodeci’s “Pump It Back” as I type this. In a second I’m about to get up and try it a drop. Wait for it…

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