Are you planning to join the gym and hoping you don’t quit within six weeks, like you’ve done the past two years? Pushing to get your credit score above “LOL” levels by next Black Friday? Working on finally getting closer to that dream that you constantly allude to on your Facebook feed?
While some of your more annoying friends bemoan the fact that January 1 is the day millions choose to make pledges they could technically begin on any given day of the year, the rest of us are too busy jotting down our New Year’s resolutions hoping for the best. The stars are no different; and in this week’s roundtable, we get an inside look into some of their lofty goals for 2013. Wish Trey Songz, R. Kelly, Missy Elliott, and others the luck they’ll need, y’all.
Shawty Lo: I’m going to use the checks I’m going to earn from my new reality show to buy a lifetime supply of condoms and morning after pills.
Evelyn Lozada: Or you could just get that thing sawed off and allow some other people the chance to help repopulate the Earth.
Frank Ocean: I promise to stop sounding like a freshman philosophy major. I know everyone expects me to be deep, but I’m beginning to drown in my own kiddy pool of bullshit. The more I think about it, I can let my music speak for itself. It’s not like I’m the one singing “Bottles Up,” right? Folks should know I have some sense.
Trey Songz: Watch it, Raphael de la Ghetto. We can’t all create love songs based on a fictionalized love affair between Forrest Gump and Bubba, the shrimp fiend. Anyway, my New Year’s resolution is to stop drawing so much inspiration from 12 Play. Instead, I’m going to start borrowing more from Musiq Soulchild.
Frank Ocean: That seat is taken, sir. Try again.
Trey Songz: Uh, Prince?
Trey Songz: Usher?
Miguel: That’ll work. Not like Usher is even doing Usher anymore.
Been going back and forth over whether or not to write in detail about my year. It was more up and down than I could’ve ever imagined and I remain unsure as to how open I want to be about it. I suppose all that matters this second is that I’m here. Damn, doesn’t that sound very The Color Purple of me to say? Anyway, here’s a recap of some of the things I’ve written this year. No matter what was going on throughout 2012, I kept writing. God, now I sound like I’m about to give you early 1990s Mariah Carey ballad realness.
Stopping now. Just look below. Gon’ now.
On Frank Ocean (via theGrio)
I wasn’t sure if I was going to chime in on Frank Ocean’s revelation given he wasn’t specific as to whether or not his “peculiar friendship” with another man was a one off or a bigger statement about his sexuality. I’m glad I did, though, because I think it’s important that we allow younger people who are actual members of the community to speak on such matters versus those who are not. Allies are fine and continue to be welcomed, but our voices are important. That reminds me, Tracy Garraud’s piece for VIBE is a good read, too.
A Man of Honesty (via EBONY.com)
This piece was intended to be a part of EBONY.com’s MANifest series, which was to feature Black men offering varying opinions about our identities. It ended up being a standalone essay, but it was a struggle to write and one of the best things I felt I have written.
Celebrity Roundtable: Beyoncé’s Taking Lunch Money (via The Shadow League)
More satire is coming in the New Year.
Crawl out of Kim Kardashian (via EBONY.com)
The sourpusses who have already bitched about Kim Kardashian’s pregnancy reminded me of this piece. Seriously, people need to give her a break, or at the very least, bash her on new shit. Oh, and a beautiful, super smart man complimented me on this part of the piece: “”Since none of us onlookers are her vagina.” Thanks, Kimmy.
Jenny Johnson, Chris Brown & Internet Trolls (via The Shadow League)
Chris Brown is a dick, but that “comedian” is annoying and represents the growing problem with troll culture.
TV’s Black Sitcom Problem (via Salon)
My first for Salon, which took a hot minute.
Is R&B Having An Identity Crisis? (via The Atlantic)
Another first for me, and while I’m glad this did well, I’m happier by year’s end the tide has obviously shifted.
Zoe Saldana as Nina Simone? Not Even Half the Problem (via EBONY.com)
This movie will be the fool and I’m betting Zoe will continue to annoy.
Lil’ Kim’s Big Secret (via EBONY.com)
A man can dream.
Rick Santorum’s Unholy War (via EBONY.com)
I feel like he still masturbates to pictures of JFK Jr.
Abigail Fisher and the Me Generation (via The Root)
Entitlement is increasingly transcending race.
Stop Shaming Rihanna (via EBONY.com)
I finished this very early in the morning after driving to a parking lot of a Whole Foods in the Valley. The Whole Foods wi-fi didn’t even work; I had to hijack the free wi-fi that came from the Audi dealership next to the store. The Internet I had bought the night prior went out minutes before I was ready to send and submit to my editor. I was still in the midst of one of the worst periods of my life when I wrote this and I had no idea it was going to go viral hours later. Then an agent whose repped projects I had heard of him reached out to me, saying he read this and a few other pieces and wanted to know if I was interested in writing a book. Oh, but of course I am. Ultimately, despite a very, very polite and encouraging no, I was brought back to Earth. Still, I was reminded that even at my lowest, people are paying attention so keep going. I’m taking that with me into 2013 — and I plan to be hearing more yeses.
As a practicing gay, you become accustomed to being blamed for the world’s troubles big and small. If your bitter homegirl can’t get a man, it’s because her hairdresser keeps turning all of the available breeders out. Should a sizable earthquake happen, it’s because the homosexuals have gotten way too beside themselves now that a few secularists have decided to co-sign their call for equal rights. The same applies for hurricanes, heavy rains, speeding tickets, and you getting the burnt biscuit with your five-piece spicy strip combo. And according to Fantasia’s Instagram feed, it’s also my fault that she met somebody’s husband at a T-Mobile store, fell in lust and love, had his baby, and proceeded to brag about their relationship as his wife went “What the fuck?” before deciding to take advantage of an old North Caroline law targeting home-wreckers and sue her ass.
Despite shouts to the contrary, it’s obvious that Fantasia still feels a way about some judging her. Never mind that she publicized the affair and proceeded to further antagonize the public by constantly trying to justify her relationship. Nope, it’s everyone else’s fault that a public person made a private affair public, and as a result, was criticized publicly. And surprise, surprise, since this soulful simpleton wanted to invoke the Bible to pan others’ for their perceived sins as a means to deflect from her own actions, she’s getting judged again, only this time she’s judging back.
As far as the Bible goes, I must’ve missed the part about God hating ganja. Also, as much as I would love to talk context and historical accuracy, re: the six verses that reference the gay in that book, let’s just say if I ever started a book club and thought to invite Fantasia over, she’d have to wait until we got on Patti LaBelle’s cookbook.
I will say this, though: Someone needs to sit her ass down and explain how what anyone else does has no bearing on her actions.
If I’m looking at a picture of Trey Songz from behind, the side, the front, or him just seductively eating some turkey sausage and start singing to myself “Oops, there goes my shirt up over my head. Oh my.” that has nothing to do with her caressing the scrotum of someone else’s husband.
The gays didn’t force you to be Antwaun Cook’s bottom, baybee.
Fantasia needs to come to gripes with what she’s done and move on. Maybe people were a bit too harsh on her — self included. However, get over it or at the very least, blame someone else for your problems in silence. Of the fraction of the fan base Fantasia used to enjoy, a fair share of it consists of gays. We’re the people that will ensure that she can afford white meat forever.
She’s got her nerve riding the rainbow and then taking a piss on it when she’s feeling crabby about her choices.
And since we’re on Jesus, let us pray that he and all his deity-friends work as a cohesive unit to help celebrities learn what “taken out of context” means.
What she argued was: “Y’all judging me, but look up at all the other unholy shit going on? The gays getting married and people are smoking weed legally.” What did we take out of context? If you’re going to two-step out of that shit with the hopes of getting future Pride weekend and Ru-Paul’s Drag Race bookings, start by admitting what you said and apologizing accordingly.
Otherwise, shut up. Her head is as thick as the bottom of half of her because she fails to see that if she had kept things to herself starting two years ago it would’ve only been Aunt Bunny telling her she and her married boyfriend are in the wrong. I hope Fantasia manages to bounce back with her music career and come to a place where she doesn’t need to pop one too many Advil PMs to deal (sincerely), but she needs to learn when to shut the fuck up. After a while, you get sick of artists who need your kind for varying reasons pretend to be down for you only to show you how they truly feel later on.
Bottom line: Illiterates ain’t shit and they ain’t saying nothing, a hunnid motherfuckers can’t tell me nothing. I’ll be in that ass, beez, beez in that ass.
God bless, though.
What in the bootleg Baywatch hell?
Is Karlie Redd still trying to be a singer-rapper? I mean, selling ass isn’t exactly a bad idea for a theme if you’re plotting to peddle music, but this video gives more of a calendar girl tease. Is Karlie trying to diversify her portfolio? Throwing out those cheeks to catch a potential bidder? Trying to show her co-stars that she can become a breakout star ’cause of her booty, too?
I saw her on the cover of an ass magazine at the gas station about a month ago. Her cheeks didn’t look lopsided there, but I wasn’t sure if that was Dr. Adobe working the magic. I suppose if anyone had lingering doubts about the shape of what she sits on, Karlie’s here to give you a grand tour paid for by World Star Hip Hop.
Is K. Michelle going to apologize for saying Karlie’s got one ass that’s mixed with an apple and Oswald Cobblepot? Probably not, but if it’s any consolation, Karlie, the rest of us know now. We even see the dimple.
Don’t get me wrong now. I don’t have anything against Karlie Redd. My inner bird chirps to “Louis, Prada, Gucci” and it doesn’t really matter to me if she’s 69 in Lady and Tramp years as Mad and from Memphis claims. I am confused about her goals, though.
Like, if you’re going to get this big feature on WSHH, shouldn’t the background music be your own creations? I know for a fact she’s been working on music, so why can’t I hear it as the director of this clip does the same three angles over and over again as opposed to “Del Monte Fruit?” I’m not following. Or maybe she got paid for this? I hope so because those shoes looked painful. If you’re not going to plug your own product, you best at least have gotten some Christmas present money.
As 2012 winds down, there are a few issues that still need worth addressing – namely what all doesn’t need to be seen or heard from again as we enter the New Year. Study this list, pass it to a friend, and feel free to contribute on what you think is too stale to bring into 2013.
Chris Brown: I realize I run the risk of a sea of teenagers threatening my life over Chris Brown’s inclusion on this list, but that walking and pop locking Hot Pocket just doesn’t seem worth the trouble. At the very least, Breezy shouldn’t be allowed to join the rest of us in 2013 until he learns to relax, relate, release.
“Ratchet” Abuse: With all due respect to people happy to learn a new word, the rampant abuse of this term makes many of us Southerners long for the days when the ratchet was just a dance you did to a Lil’ Boosie song. I understand that thanks to social media colloquialisms spread faster than ever, but damn, can people ruin a good thing fast.
Lindsay Lohan: I used to think Lindsay Lohan was like a white version of Felicia from Friday, now I just feel whatever she is, it needs to be locked away in a jail cell. If she were Black she would’ve long been in jail trading Hollywood gossip for Newport cigarettes.
Debates Over Blackness: I could’ve sworn a very special episode ofThe Fresh Prince of Bel-Air solved this riddle years ago, but in case there was any lingering doubt, Black people are not a monolith. However, there is such a thing as Black culture, but you don’t have to donate your melanin to someone in need if you don’t identify with any or even all aspects of it. Also, cut it out with the “post-Blackness” chatter. That’ll never be a thing.
Celebrities Live Tweeting Their Relationships: On Rihanna’s new duet with Chris Brown, “Nobody’s Business,” the two borrow from the Michael Jackson lyric book to sing how their relationship is nobody’s business, “but mine and my baby.” And apparently their public Twitter and Instagram accounts. You either want your private relationships private or you don’t. And the same goes for Chad Johnson and Evelyn Lozada, who seem to be moving towards becoming Rihanna and Chris Brown Sr.
In honor of the most wonderful time of the year for consumers, credit card companies, and churchgoers, this week’s celebrity roundtable tackles the biggest holiday of the year. The stars exchange Christmas gifts and explain the thought behind each gesture. From English lessons to muzzles to anti-depressants, see how the famous get festive.
Ice-T: Rick Ross is as much a trap star as a snotty nose kid wearing a plastic Burger King crown is the heir to England’s throne. Here’s a bootleg copy of all my episodes on New York Undercover. Watch and learn how to really play a gangster.
Rihanna: I used to think she was me with a penis, but after watching a few more episodes of Love & Hip Hop: Atlanta, I know Joseline Hernadez is really just me with a premium Gold’s Gym membership. Although I may live for her, I have a hard time hearing her and comprehending. From one strong accent to another, you’re a star, but you can be an even bigger star once the Americans understand you a little better. So here’s a copy of Rosetta Stone. You’ve already got the body, looks, and fan base. All you need now is subject-verb agreement and the world is yours, baby girl.
Ne-Yo: I got my man Chris Brown a journal and a muzzle. With all due respect to my fellow Michael Jackson enthusiast, if you’re trying to stop controversy from following you, you’ve got three options: Learn to channel your rage on a therapist’s couch; stop popping off on Twitter and Instagram and try jotting your thoughts down in a journal; and, for real, stop talking, seriously, dude.
Trey Songz: I’d like to get Ne-Yo some business, since he’s spent so much of this year speaking on everyone else’s.
Bow Wow: Since Rihanna is saying she’s single, I’d like to volunteer my services. You know, my gift to you, girl.
Omarion: Well, I had these Air Jordan XX8’s for you, Bow, but I guess I’ll take them back and exchange them for a clue.
As your Mayan prophecy minding-mama has probably already explained to you, the world as we know it is supposedly set to end on December 21, 2012. Yes, before the Obamas lead the nation in the wobble at the second inauguration; before Beyoncé dips it, pops it, twirks it, stops it at the Super Bowl halftime show; and sadly, before you get to recite your favorite 2 Chainz lyrics to Houston strippers during the next NBA All-Star Game. Damn, damn, damn and all that.
Those of us not into wasting idle time watching YouTube prophets pretend they’re Nostradamus don’t believe the world will end this week, but just in case, here are 10 truths we all need to accept should Mother Earth implode.
Drake Is Not The Worst Artist To Ever Live
Look, Aubrey Graham can be a bit whiny, and if Aaliyah were still with us, I don’t doubt that she might’ve had had to file a restraining order against the creeper. Still, his music is cool and he’s really not any less emo than your average rapper – he’s basically DMX becoming better in touch with his feelings after several anger management courses and intensive therapy.
We Are All Wrong As Hell For Letting Chris Brown Have So Many Chances And Not Bobby Brown
It’s really not fair that the genius behind “Roni,” “Don’t Be Cruel,” and “Rock ‘Wit Cha” hasn’t gotten as many chances as Ike Turner in lighter packaging.
Uncut Wasn’t That Bad
Don’t act like you never sang along to Black Jesus’ “Tell Me What Thang Smell Like It” at least once. You should’ve told your badass kids to stay asleep when grown folks’ music videos are on anyway. For the record, though, YouTube is Uncut’srevenge. Take that, take that.
Michael Jackson Looked Okay As A Puerto Rican
Maybe the late King of Pop and my namesake had vitiligo or maybe he just went overboard with the surgery and bleaching cream from Kim’s Beauty Supply. Whatever the case, his look during the Bad era (aka his DeBarge look) wasn’t so bad. Had he stayed looking like El DeBarge’s androgynous brother, he would’ve scared less people in the 1990’s and 2000’s and convinced Lil’ Kim to respect her limits.
…Beyoncé is ready to usher in 2013 with a new album. Already she’s announced a gig performing halftime at the Super Bowl, plus an HBO documentary and a $50 million dollar deal with Pepsi that will see the soft drink company paying her to…be Beyoncé.
All before we’ve even heard the new single.
It’s clear someone wants the top spot back, but is she about to make it hard for the other R&B singers trying to breakthrough? In this week’s roundtable, singers not named Beyoncé debate whether Beyoncé is about to be way too overbearing.
Keri Hilson: When I said that heifer needed to go have some babies and sit down, I should’ve been more specific. Like have a baby, sit down and don’t get up until the kid starts kindergarten. Already she’s starting her usual antics. Brandy drops an album, she wants to announce she’s going to do that same booty pop at the Super Bowl. Someone else releases a new video, then she throws out a 30 second trailer for an HBO doc about how great she thinks she is. I bet the day Jesus decides to come back she’ll drop a sex tape with his daddy to steal his shine.
Frank Ocean: You sound mad, my love. You’ve got remember: Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know which one you’re going to get.
Keri Hilson: What in the hell is that supposed to mean, you R&B fortune cookie?
Frank Ocean: It means chew on Beyoncé’s chocolate covered…
Miguel: Wait, cut that out. We are R&B singers. Peace, love, and press and curls, remember?
Keri Hilson: That reminds me, Michael with a G. Why haven’t you returned my calls? You’re too busy with her highness to record with me now? How are you going to hit me about my beautician, but duck me when I want to book studio time?
Miguel: I’m sorry, Miss Keri…
Keri Hilson: …baby!
Miguel: Right. It’s just that, you know, when Beyoncé calls you just…
Keri Hilson: Don’t you say her name to me. Don’t you dare say it anymore. One too many times and she’ll appear out of the ground like Beetlejuice and take my mic away. She’s used to hogging one.
Rihanna: Poor dat. For the record, I don’t have a problem when big sister Beyoncé drops a new album. That Rihanna reign won’t let up so that sounds more like a personal problem for you and…what’s the other one’s name?
Even though a t-shirt line with the word “ass” in the title launched by a reality star wouldn’t be the first thing I think of when considering what constitutes as “classy,” I’m not knocking Draya Michele’s for wanting to generate new streams of revenue. If I could make a quick buck off the cheap fame a slot on a basic cable show provided, I’d be cashing out, too. So yeah, make your money, Draya. Not mad at all about that.
In fact, I quite enjoy Draya. She gives me Ebony from The Player’s Club, only a version that wasn’t caught up and ruined thanks to Ronnie. Plus, she’s funny and if she weren’t on the show, I probably would only watch clips of Malaysia cursing out her co-stars before flipping right back to LaSusanetta Homemaker on VH1.com.
Not to mention, I feel like if I took a stroll on the rainbow, Draya would be sitting at the other end, sipping lemonade while one of her special female friends gave her a passionate inner thigh massage. Draya’s made no secret that she’s into women, but did y’all hear the way she said, “The boys like us, the girls love us?” Somebody strikes me as a bigger fan of the Karrueche than the cock.
In any event, I like Draya lots and salute her for seeking to capitalize off her popularity from Basketball Wives: LA. Still, after watching the promotional videos for Draya’s t-shirt line via Miss Jia, I’m a bit put off by the acrnoym she uses to plug the project.
There are some gays perfectly line with the word “FAG,” but you’ll never find me a part of that troop. That word hasn’t been remixed the way “nigga” or even “bitch” has. Regardless as to whether or not you agree that either term can ever truly be co-opted by the groups they’re intended to dehumanize and offend, I hope most can at least reach an accord that there’s not been that kind of attempt with “faggot.”
It’s usage continues to be largely rooted in some negative connotation. With that in mind, I’m not amused by “F.A.G.” being so pronounced in the marketing of Draya’s t-shirt line. I don’t care if she’s an amateur gynecologist, longtime licker, and cookie monster extraordinaire (at least some of the time) in her private life. She’s a woman taking a slur aimed at gay men and selling it as a cute t-shirt to a bunch of straight women.
It’s annoying, no matter what any gay pet of hers nearby may have told her otherwise.
Admittedly, I’m a bit sensitive to this because I’m increasingly noticing how gay Black men have been so influential in pop culture as of late – as in so much of the colloquialism going mainstream – but you wouldn’t know it given most of the people enjoying success off of it don’t have our faces or experiences. Now you have Draya taking an ugly gay male bashing term and pimping it for profit.
Obviously, it’s too late for Draya to stop the presses now. She has shirts to move. It’s disappointing all the time, though.
The girl may be fine, but she’s playing gay men for a fool.
P.S. Brooke really needs to get over it.
As if Shereè Whitfield needed another reminder that she’s wasted her calling as the trap’s answer to Jeanette Jenkins, rising international superstar and television treasure, Joseline Hernandez, has revealed plans for a workout DVD. Do you hear that, Shereè? It’s a woman who can barely speak English yelling, “STEEBIE! We ’bout to make this monee!”
I am absolutely here for it. No shade to my Auntie Phaedra, but I’m not sure what prompted her to release a workout DVD with her husband. What is it called again? Tighten The Tush with The Trade? Something like that. Phaedra is indeed sitting on a Eeyore, but I would think her first reality TV fame spawned side hustle would be her serving as some southern Star Jones on morning YV — doling out legal advice. Oh well, squat your way to success, auntie.
Meanwhile, Joseline looks like Rihanna as a bodybuilder so I’d rather look to her for advice. I know she said ladies in the tweet, but most men would be lucky to have Joseline’s frame. I’m secure enough to ask Joseline to spot me.
Part of my efforts to delay the losing of my mind has been taking refuge inside of a gym. I’ve made some noted progress. I would post it here, but respectable writers would never do such a thing. Okay, that’s utter bullshit. I don’t care about that; I just don’t want to. My Instagram is here and if you scroll around there’s one photo that vaguely shows my growth.
Anyway, progress has been made but it’s like the fat of my past is trying cockblock a complete transition. Sometimes I look at the parts of my body that I don’t like and sing to them, “These niggas won’t hold me back. These hoes wanna hold me back.”
In Beyoncé terms, y’all know how she looked during the Survivor era i.e. getting it together yet there’s still some little blanket over one small but important area? Joseline, can you be my lighter and burn that bitch to the ground?
Then there’s solid food, which can be really annoying. I’ve never felt more closer to Mary-Kate Olsen. I’m playing; please don’t call a hotline on me. One of my friends used to say I ate like a white woman. That’s racist for really healthy. Unfortunately, I’ve fallen into “Negro, Who Doesn’t Listen To Their Doctor Enough” territory more times than I’d like to admit. It’s like I’ll put in all this work at the gym in the early a.m (I have evidence) and then I’ll smell Popeye’s at the gas station. Salmon, nuts, grilled chicken, vegetables, and protein shakes are cute, but you can’t put honey and grape jelly on them while you kiss a chicken strip dipped in sweet heat sauce.
I fight it as hard as I can. As I always say on the Twitter, you’ve got to make sure your body slays because you never know if you’ll need it to pay Sallie Mae. I’m pretty confident I could sell some ass to cover my government loans. However, I also have private, so like…I need to do better.
I have Insanity. I work out damn near everyday. But, I’m probably going to buy this DVD. Why? Because Joseline looks like fucking Hercules with ass shots. Minus the needles, I aspire. And don’t be bougie, folks. Some of y’all probably want to pre-order, too. Workout buddies?