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1. Is this supposed to prove it’s real?

2. Am I wrong for looking at this picture and instantly hearing: “In the criminal justice system, sexually based offenses are considered especially heinous. In New York City, the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies are members of an elite squad known as the Special Victims Unit. These are their stories?”

3. In a screaming contest, who do you think has the biggest chance of busting your eardrums: Tasha Smith or Jennifer Hudson?

4. Who thought it was a good idea to schedule Michelle Obama to appear at a NASCAR rally?

5. Do you think Beyoncé knows just how much more powerful a lot of her stans are feeling after this?

6. When you really think about it, isn’t Toni Braxton just as extra as her sister, Tamar, only in a lower volume?

7. Did the back of Kimbella’s head deserve that train ride to the hotel room floor?

8. Do you ever think Lady Gaga stops and laughs about having all of these girls dressing like fashion victims from the future?

9. Since they’ve proven time and time again to be quite the hip-hop head, do you think Selena Gomez and Taylor Swift greet each other with a Rick Ross grunt?

10. Can we give Tina Knowles a round of applause for showing the best of jigs after 50?

11. If the Pine Sole lady isn’t causing social media network scenes over commercials, why won’t Tyrese let this go?

12. Will someone explain to Jackie Christie that only she can hear the villagers that live inside her head?

13. Is Christina Aguilera hiding Mandy Moore in her stomach?

14. Why is Lil’ Romeo telling us to go to trade school?

15. What is exactly is going on in Amber Rose’s Smirnoff vodka commercial?

16. Baseball Wives: Why?

17. What are the chances that on her sophomore album we’ll get the Nicki Minaj we knew before she started hanging out with Judy Jetson?

Florida police on Friday arrested a person suspected of administering dangerous and illegal butt-boosting shots – injecting at least one woman with a cocktail of substances including cement, glue and tire sealant.

18.  Is it ever that serious?

19. Are we really going to get that new D’Angelo album?

20. Is the miracle in these Dr. Miracle commercials supposed to be us pretending that we can’t spot the weaves in these hair ads?

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Far be it from me to question the wisdom of political scientist and former pharmaceutical entrepreneur, Young Jeezy, but for those of you currently occupying areas of your local city in response to the gross and growing economic inequality I have a bit of advice: Don’t listen to this dude, you will get your ass killed.

To be fair to Jeezy, I’ve heard far more dangerous political opinions than his. I imagine anyone that has seen any of the zillion Republican presidential debates that have taken thus far shares a similar sentiment. Be that as it may, if college students are being pepper sprayed while using non-violent forms of protest, what do you think the military-like police officers of the nation will do to them if they decide to get buck? I mean, go ‘head and try to shut the city down if you want to. I did read one comment on 2 Dope Boyz that was somewhat true: “Actually, that would probably get the 1%’s attention. Extremism. Because now, they really don’t care about some people stopping MTA … as if they ride MTA.”

Middle classers gone wild surely would get a lot of attention, but it would also result in Phaedra Parks having a booming start to her soon to be launched funeral parlor. Moreover, while one could make a case for how selling drugs and stealing is somewhat of a display of political defiance in response to inequality, let’s not get carried away and equate tree smoking and selling with tree hugging, okay? There’s Jeezy the Snowman and Barack Obama the community organizer from 20 years ago. I’m pretty sure the only thing the two had in common was a shared interest in MC Hammer.

The rest of what Jeezy said wasn’t so bad and if I had to choose between voting for him and the court jesters from the party of Dumbo, I’d roll to the voting booth (okay, mailing in absentee ballot) blasting “Bang.” I think that pretty much confirms my political persuasion. Speaking of voting, vote in mid term elections and let’s get rid of all couple hundred politicians kissing Grover Norquist’s feet. Now if that doesn’t work, permission to revisit the clip is granted.

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Does anyone remember any of those sketches from the last two decades that mocked the hell out of hip hop? You know, the ones satirizing the videos featured on outlets like BET’s now cancelled case study on blue balls, gross sexual imagery and the late nite TV viewer known as Uncut. Well, it’s becoming a lot harder to tell the difference between the punch line and the real thing. Case in point.

(more…)

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I get it: Disqualified spelling bee contestant or not, Tyrese means well. Couple that with his celebrity and it’s clear why people clamor to him and his newfound career as an irregular version of a life coach. Personally, I’d rather buy a chastity belt from Karrine Steffans or take grammar lessons from Evelyn Lozada before accepting any sort of guidance from Tyrese Gibson. Yes, I’m aware that puts me in the minority. Such a reality is the reason why I’m forever grateful for ibuprofen.

What will always trip me out most his success, though, is the idea that women are the ones actually fueling the ego of this sexist man. I’m pretty sure Tyrese doesn’t think he’s a sexist, but that’s a pretty common theme among many people harboring select prejudices. Like when he sat on Wendy Williams’ couch and perpetuated that silly double standard about cheating between men and women. Still, so many women repeat his stale lines that in my opinion sounded much better when read after consuming an order of sesame chicken. Again, I’m aware that I’m in the minority but dammit, y’all have emboldened him to say even stupider shit.

This time it’s all about the big, bad independent woman. Despite the term being a part of pop culture for a little more than a decade Tyrese feels compelled to explain the term to the gender that coined it. And surprise, surprise his definition seems to vilify women who dare boast of being self-sufficient and finding fulfillment on their own terms.

Try not to let Tyrese’s usage of the ‘Pop-Pop’ voice fool you: He said a whole bunch of nothing. Jesus could’ve had his hand over my eyes and I don’t doubt for a millisecond that I would manage to see through Tyrese’s bullshit all the same. In fact, I’ve belched better sentiments. While it’s cute to make little quips about women buying their little poodles to curtail their assumed loneliness, one quickly recalls that he’s a divorcee who almost a year ago was live-tweeting himself being holed up in his car outside of his ex-wife’s house hoping the po-po didn’t hull his ass to the jailhouse, or worse, shoot his ass. But you know, ladies, you’re the problem.

Oh yes, so am I.

“I know it’s a lot of men out here that are playing on both sides of the fence, it’s confusing, and it’s a lot of homosexuality going on out here. I get it, it’s a lot of frustration that women have. [But] there’s a lot of man’s man still left; We’re out here, we’re waiting, we’re wanting, we desire you just like you desire us. Just don’t give up on us…’Stay.’ That’s my ‘Open Invitation’. Give [us] a shot at your heart.”

Kudos to you, Black Ty, on you tying your pseudo motivational speaker bit with the job you’re actually skilled in (to other people anyway), but motherfuck you all the same. For pulling the angry black woman bit and for further perpetuating both the down low myth and the effeminate gay male stereotype. Guys like Tyrese always trip me out when they go there given the fact that you can always manage to connect that stereotype to the accuser’s own behavior. Say, Tyrese’s knack for constantly whining on Twitter as if he’s still bedwetting age.

On this clip, one commenter on YouTube wrote, “Empty barrels make the most noise.” If that isn’t the best sentiment about all of these celebrities jocking Oprah, Dr. Phil, Dr. Oz, your grandma with the good wig I don’t know what is. May they all fall into a trap door — starting with this sexist and homophobic sum’bitch.

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As I mentioned in the essay, I was a little worried when I heard Michelle Obama refer to then Senator-elect Obama as her baby daddy — only because I knew chump conservatives would take that line and go the distance with it. And they tried (it) but over time Lady O toned it done (to my dismay) and became hugely popular as a result. Yet no matter how non-threatening her causes are these days many on the right continue to hammer at her. Was reading a piece in the Washington Post that said the First Lady will be a political asset in the looming election though the key to that is being essentially apolitical. I find that slightly irritating so I wrote a piece about it. Wanna read it? Here it go: “The High Cost of Mrs. Obama’s Popularity.”

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A year ago, I made the mistake of believing that perhaps with the help of hit producer Kim Kardashian might actually be able to feign a discernable talent. That idea was based on the premise that maybe The-Dream might be able to mold Kim into something that’s sort of like Vanity, but not nearly as good or anything. Whatever it was gonna be, it was supposed to be decent enough to entertain me musically. Such a dream delusional was soon shattered the minute I actually heard their collaboration. I quickly realized that Bea Arthur has more energy in her right now than Kim did trying to sing through “Jam.”

You would think I would have learned my lesson and not bother holding out any hope that people famous for being famous could manage to tease us with something more. Then I stumbled along this clip. Look, if Kim Kardashian failed as Vanity 2.0 it doesn’t necessarily mean Amber Rose can’t be Appolonia 0.759, right? Now, a commenter on Necole Bitchie’s site was quick to remind everyone that once members of the paparazzi asked Amber if she had any musical talent. She said she couldn’t sing or rap. This person then quipped, “Now all of a sudden she is an artist.”

Well, y’all let cornbread eating divorcees become marriage experts and Evelyn Lozada fictionalize her already fictitious tales of being an NBA player’s wife with Cash Money Content (they have a book imprint with Simon & Schuster…I know, I know). Are you really surprised that Amber Rose wants to sing now? Call it optimism or suggest that it’s just another example of the goodness in my heart (shut the hell up, I can be sweet), but maybe Amber might be able to put out a decent track or two.

It’s not like house music requires a great voice. Hell, does a lot of R&B or pop these days? If all else fails, at least her music will give me something to talk about. Can’t we all appreciate that, if nothing else?

No? Ugh, naysayers. I’ll leave you with this:

Who knows what miracle

You can achieve

When you believe

Somehow you will

You will when you believe

Yes, I’m aware that quoting legitimate artists and their banal duets probably might be counterproductive in advancing my argument. This is what hope looks like. Now sing-a-long.

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Fat Joe’s synopsis of homosexuality in our culture is as concise as it is astute: “Niggas is gay.” I don’t want to bother with a debate over whether or not Fat Joe should be able to use that word. I sort of consider him to be black, bilingual, and able to swim. Yes, that’s politically incorrect. Now can we go back to the part about niggas being gay? Okay then.

Some might be put off a bit on his emphasis on the word preference, but I don’t think it matters much given his overall point is that he’s not donating a damn about whether or not you’re gay because it should be irrelevant. Or as he so eloquently puts it: “Girls too… I’m a fan of ‘Yo, I’m gay. The fuck.’ Like, 2011 you gotta hide that you’re gay? Like, you know what I’m saying, like, be real, like ‘Yo I’m gay, what the fuck.’ If you gay you gay. Like that’s your preference, you know? Fuck it if the people don’t like it.”

Can we get this quote to a beat? Something as catchy as: “My niggas don’t dance, we just pull up our pants and do the rock-a-way. Now lean back, lean back, lean back.” Just with a gay twist — which includes slashing that unfortunate (to me) portion. Not everyone could get into “Born This Way.” Include me among that bunch.

Just last night I was talking to friends about people we know that are gayer than bathroom sex at a Rihanna concert who still lie to themselves that they’re going to magically fall into a vagina and not turn into Gumby. If Fat Joe the big heterosexual can get it, why can’t even some of these homos and the breeders who spook them? That includes some of you idiots who call me “faggie,” “fag” or pretend to be Biblical scholars on the comments section of my site. Yes, I read every comment here. Thank you for reading, but you can suck my dick and let the salt intake give you a stroke all the same.

Now on to more important matters: The gay mafia. Everybody knows (please say the way my play Auntie Phaedra Parks phrases it please) that I’m not the biggest fan of conspiracy theories, but Joe Who Doesn’t Care Where Your Privates Blow makes a good point about there being a lot of gay people behind the scenes yielding a lot of power. To that I say: Isn’t it about time that I be brought into the fold? Then again, it was only the other day that someone I greatly broke it down to me about the virtues of patience. I suppose my day of being included among the league of gay people outsiders complain about soiling their world with our good taste will come. Don’t feel like you can’t contribute to those efforts, though. So as I wait for a couple hundred of you to contribute to the tip jar over at gay Illuminati headquarters, feel free to email this post to your friends.

Fat Joe is showing folks the way to the truth…with their gay asses.

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I’m not one of those people who actually thinks President Obama will lose reelection, but a weak economy always leaves that an open possibility. So when Rick Perry decided to enter the race for the Republican presidential nomination, I was worried for a millisecond. Not because I find him especially capable of anything other than pissing non-rich people off with his policies. I just wondered would Americans be dumb and/or angry enough to fall for yet another cowboy yokel who promises to send this country soaring though ultimately proves to let corporations take a big piss on all of us.

I can now confidentially say that Rick Perry won’t be president. Ever. I knew this slimmer Fred Flintstone as a Latino looking sum’bitch was simple, but even I didn’t realize he would make me appreciate the intellect of not so curious George W. Bush. Consider yourselves lucky, America, ’cause even one quick glance at how much of a waste Ricky has been as governor of Texas (for ten damn years, blame the hillbillies) will convince you that his fuck ups throughout his presidential bid is each of our collective come up. Unfortunately, that means in the meantime the press will still be pretending that pizza man who allegedly thinks too much with his penis actually has a chance before ultimately subjecting us to Mitt Romney’s losing battles with amnesia. Still, just be grateful you won’t have  to deal with this walking speech impediment for much longer. Some of us haven’t been as lucky.

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It seems that a few of you out there are impressed with this. Perhaps I remember 1996 a little bit too well, but I don’t find this verse all that worthwhile. I suppose it is better than anything Lil’ Kim has realized recently, but that’s like saying the diarrhea you got from the taco truck is a lot more enjoyable than the constant vomiting that resulted from you eating bad seafood. If anything, I think this clip is additional proof that Lil’ Kim ought to take advantage of the free trial offer at Ancestry.com so she can find out if her ghostwriter is kin to Baby.

I wonder if the artists from the ’90s that Kim came up with laugh at her expense when together. Or maybe they do some impromptu group prayer to the Devil or whoever runs “the Illuminati.” No, I don’t really believe in the Illuminati, but I’d now more inclined to believe that some dark, mystical force could take over the world via a Rihanna or Lady Gaga record before Lil’ Kim one ups Nicki Minaj on wax.

Not only does verse not supersede the one Nicki offered on “Y U Mad,” but she sounds confused. Like, are we still on that Lil’ Kim clone thing? Uh, Glenda The Good Witch, the Harajuku Girls, and Lady Gaga’s self-importance each have far more reasons to watch war on Nicki Minaj over accusations of cloning than you do — no matter what your eager zealots tell you, Kimberly. Oh, and Mark Zuckerberg “can get it, ooh he can get it?”

Really? This is what you’re into now? You must really miss Scott Storch’s peak net worth. And you probably rue the day you decided to sell a mixtape on PayPal, too, huh?

I hate to belabor the point, though this needs to be understood: Lil’ Kim lost. Nicki Minaj is pulling the kind of numbers Kim and Foxy pulled more than a decade ago when people actually bought albums. Lil’ Kim can get blog hits and be the talk of Twitter for a couple of hours, but that’s not the same as a hit single on the radio. Not like having an album out that people can actually buy. Definitely nothing close to what Kim used to do. That’s fine because she’s made her mark. However, if you’re going to act like you’re still at the top, do something. Something that doesn’t suck and attach itself to Nicki like a nipple ring.

Again:

Help Me: Lil’ Kim

And for you enabling Eminem lyrics personified:

If You Really Loved Lil’ Kim You Would Find Her A Chair

I just wanted to show that I’ve tried to help in my own special way. But, she’s not getting it. I’ve since realized that’s been a running theme for her for years now. The other day I was randomly looking at old Remy Ma interviews and stumbled along one Remy did about her beef with Kim (which Remy won lyrically, by the way).

The best part begins 1:53 in:

Notice Remy is essentially making the same points Nicki argued a year ago. Nicki is picking at Kim a bit, but Kim should respond with a record that doesn’t make you turn on “Queen Bitch” to remember the good times. The diss game isn’t her cup of tea anymore. If you don’t believe me turn on the “Big Momma Thang” remix where she went in on ‘Pac and Faith or “Came Back For You” where she verbally stomped Eve out. She doesn’t seem to have that sort of bite anymore. Stop reminding us of this, Kimberly. Go cut some record that might get me do so a twirk in salute instead. That would do more for the dried up river that is her rap career than releasing 19 additional half-ass diss records ever will. It’s great to respect your elders, but stop lying to their asses, stans.

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