Oh, They’re Shattered

I was not anticipating American Idol to serve as a placeholder for Love & Hip Hop: Atlanta in my heart, but I have learned to accept my blessings as they come to me. As funny as these two have been thus far in their back and forth here and in the press, I didn’t want the rumors of rift to be true. I love them both so much.

I am perpetually praise dancing to “Honey.” I spit Nicki Minaj lines as often as I shower. I don’t like two of my favorites fighting. This is like Beyoncé telling Jesus she heard he was talking shit about her behind her back after their last game of spades and to meet her outside to handle it.

Here are a few pennies, though:

1. Having read the stories leading up to this, they both like not fantastic co-workers. Initial stories were particularly none   too kind to Mariah Carey. It was reported that she wasn’t exactly happy to know that she’d be sharing the panel with another women. She was said to be even less thrilled with Nicki Minaj showing up late as if she’s the one who gave the world Butterfly.

2. If she felt that compelled to do so, Nicki Minaj should’ve waited until it was time for lunch to curse Mariah Carey out. If it’s true that Mimi repeatedly insulted her and called her a bitch, I’d be mad, too. Want to know what would really piss me off, though? Missing an easy $12 million due to my inability to get timing. Mariah knew better than to stoop to touch your toe levels while doing a gig. Yes, I still laugh at this clip, but I’m just saying.

3. Much of the commentary about their tiff shows so many of you folks are turning into your parents. A lot of the scolding of Nicki Minaj reminds me of some respect your elders, you no good kids don’t know good music speeches I have ignored since 1984.

Actually, that’s me being way too polite. Let me get unsouthern. Whatever caused this outburst, I am put off by the idea that Nicki Minaj cannot dare talk to Mariah Carey in any way that’s not complimentary because Mariah Carey is a bigger celebrity.

I saw that Buzzfeed article being passed around that basically argued given Mariah Carey has 18 number one singles, Nicki Minaj should simply bow in the presence of greatness. Do I need to draw some of you celebrity worshipping numbskulls a map to get you the fuck out of here with all that?

By that silly reasoning, Mariah Carey was wrong to be throwing daggers at Madonna back in the 1990s on MTV when Madge was the greater star of the two.

I love Mariah Carey, Lord knows I do, but if or anyone for that matter repeatedly berated me and called me out my name, they would ultimately catch it, too. If Beyoncé told me I was a punk ass bitch who she would throw her weave on if I caught on fire do you think I’m going to say, “Yes, ma’am, Ms. Beyoncé, get me bodied and all the way together?” No, a thousand times.

Nicki Minaj shouldn’t have spoken to her that way on the job. Ultimately, entertaining to anyone or not it is unprofessional, but some of your cousins’ rationale as to why it was wrong is way, way off. And so we’re clear, I love Mariah Carey much more. So much so that I’m going to ignore those Nicki Minaj said she’d shoot me and leave my children motherless tall tales TMZ and Barbara Walters were both way too excited to repeat.

Hopefully, these two will work it out and Nicki will get her tantrums together. Otherwise, Christina Aguilera will us this as an opportunity to compliment her and her rolling chair of a TV talent show in a future interview. We need that even less than a Barbz vs. Lambs knight fact on across the Internet.

Edit: I just turned on the remix of “Always Be My Baby.” Confession: When I met Mariah Carey at a party, I may have mentioned that I was a lamb. I can’t recall, I was intoxicated. Anyway, all I said stands but whew, Mariah is everything.

I Know You See It (Halloween Edition)

I have to be honest: I’ve never given a damn about Halloween. I’ve only dressed up it for once in my entire life. I believe I was six-years-old and was dressed as Buster Bunny from Tiny Toon Adventures. Since I had and continue to have big ass teeth, it worked out beautifully. People keep me asking me every year if I’m going to dress up and I offer the same reaction: hell no.

However, in order not to be a Halloween’s answer to Ebenezer Scrooge completely, I’ve decided to bring back “I Know You See It.” I have a knack (or problem, depending on your perspective) of successfully comparing celebrities with random cartoon characters or miscellaneous child-like figures. This is as close to me celebrating today as you’re going to get. So enjoy it.

Kris Humphries: Vigo from Ghostbusters II. A second suggestion comes courtesy of a friend: “He looks like the master’s son on a slave plantation.” Not sure how one dresses up like that, but I can make the connection.

Tamar Braxton: Janice from Dr. Teeth and The Electric Mayhem.

Laura Govan: Pumba from The Lion King, but only if he had anger management issues that caused him to constantly yell out, “Fuck Hakuna Matata” and sing Crime Mob’s “I’ll Beat Yo Azz” instead.

Gloria Govan and Matt Barnes: Those punk ass hyenas that helped Scar take out Simba’s daddy. You could also suggest Gloria dress up like Timon while Matt can be Frankenstein following his successful completion of the Weight Watchers Program. It’s a brand day, y’all.

La Toya Jackson: The arch villain of The ThunderCats. I would pay money to hear Toy-Toy say, “Ancient spirits of evil, transform this decayed form to Mumm-Ra, the ever-living!”

Christina Milian: Gadget Hackwrench from Chip ‘n Dale Rescue Rangers. You might have to squint a little, but trust me, there’s something there.

Keri Hilson: Cruella DeVille. They have similar hair, similar attitudes, and similar fanfare among young children.

Herman Cain: I know everyone has compared him to Uncle Ruckus (including me), but the more I look at this guy (unfortunately) the more he looks like, “What if Col. Sanders had an illegitimate black child?”

Nicki Minaj: Jem. I dare you to tell me that Jem doesn’t look like she’s ready to sing about wishing she could have this moment for life (for life).

Jennifer Williams: The Fox from The Fox and The Hound. Note: I do find her slow-speaking self quite pretty. Still.

Evelyn Lozada:  A successful Taiwanese sex change operation. You don’t need a picture if you’ve ever watched Basketball Wives, boo boo.

Chris Brown: Huey, Dewey, or Louie from Ducktales. Doesn’t matter which one you pick, they each work.

Lindsay Lohan: Lisa Rowe from Girl, Interrupted. You don’t have to squint for this one.

Oh and because I’m not a complete asshole, I have options for myself, too:

Dale from Chip ‘n Dale Rescue Rangers. Any chipmunk or rabbit cartoon character, really. Well, minus the ugly ones. I can’t be that self-deprecating.

I suppose Chris Brown, maybe his skinnier, not as rich, gay, and older first or second cousin. I don’t see it, but others have. Like some little boy who ran behind me yelling “Chris Brown! Chris Brown!” during All-Star Weekend earlier this year. Or the waiter who spotted me a few days after “the incident” and promptly told me (while jumping), “Man, I thought you were Chris Brown! I was gonna put you in a headlock and say, ‘Don’t Touch That Girl!’” Oh and that bus driver, who greeted me with a big ass grin talking about, “CHRIS BROWN!” Negro, just take me home. Bad enough I’m on the fucking bus.

I know someone personally is going to be thinphobic and suggest Skeletor. However, I’m too selfish to take that away from Marc Anthony. Compromise: Can I at least be Skeletor after he left anorexia camp?

Trick or treat, y’all.

Sidenote: Once a friend told me that Jazmine Sullivan sings like she smells (his words, not mine – I love her), so I did a spinoff post at the time suggesting what others might smell like based on their voices.

For example, Ne-Yo sings like someone that wears White Diamonds. Check it out if you’ve enjoyed this post.

We’re done here. Those of you who are dressing up please try to make sure the rest of us can tell. Over the weekend, I spotted someone who looked like his costume was in honor of Master P. A moment later I was told, “No, that’s Saturday.” Try not to confuse others, folks. Happy Halloween and shit.

Will You Marry Me, Rob Kardashian?

So maybe it’s time for me to reevaluate my life goals and the methodology in which I plan to attain them.

It’s becoming increasingly harder not to be at least a teensy bit jaded about celebrity culture’s choke hold on the media. Yesterday, I read that New York Times best-selling author, Snooki, admitted that she has no idea who J.K. Rowling and Maya Angelou are. I still have yet to see a single episode of Jersey Shore (on purpose), but based on what I’ve seen of Snooki in the press that revelation doesn’t surprise me at all. She’s just one of many intellectually challenged personalities turned pretend writers who can claim to be best-selling authors despite needing a ghostwriter to help them finish writing their ABCs.

Another that comes to mind is Tyrese, who can also boast of being a New York Times best-selling author although he has trouble spelling the word author. Of course, all Coca Cola crooner did was follow a formula laid out by Steve Harvey. Basically: Give people advice on subject matter your own life suggests you know little about. Or in the cases of others, project your own insecurities about race, gender, relationships, and self-identity to people who have been beaten over the head with nonsense, and thus, are gullible enough to buy yours.

If you think I sound like rock and sea salt run through my veins, I can’t say that I blame you for concluding so. I will pay each of the aforementioned this compliment: Every one of them had enough sense to capitalize on their fame and broaden their appeal to maximize their earning potential. Still, this is madness especially since now your technically trained writers are beginning to follow their leads.

I read Tracy McMillan’s memoir, I Love You And I’m Leaving You Anyway. I also checked out that Huff Post piece she wrote about why women aren’t married. Something about them being bitches, shallow, and some other stuff that sounds like it came from the varsity cheerleading squad for male chauvinism. Naturally, that means she has a book coming: Why You’re Not Married…Yet: How To Stop Acting Like a Bitch And Start Getting Hitched. A show called Why You’re Not Married is on the horizon, too.

McMillan is a funny writer, but I don’t get the point in telling women to stop being bitches over a problem that can be statistically attributed to several factors. I really fail to understand how a three-time divorcee can pen a book shelling out advice on marriage. Then again, I’ve read people call Tyrese and his employment of various gender stereotypes insightful.

The other day, the homie Bassey Ikpi tweeted to me about my Beyoncé piece for The Root, calling it “thoughtful and measured.” She did note, though, “…so of course it’ll fall on deaf ears.” She’s right. I’m trying to write well-written material that seeks to make people laugh and think. That’s a horrible way to write in 2011. I’m hustling backwards.

I’ve decided to join the trend and consider writing a book about some shit I know not a thing about. I have a working title in mind: Pulsate The Pussy: A Gay Guy’s Guide To Straight Sex. Initially, I considered joining the female bashing trend and was going to pitch an essay called: “Your Life Is Meaningless If You’re 30 and Unmarried. Same For You, Gays. Your Day of Reckoning Is Coming!”

Unfortunately, I don’t hate women so I can’t go that route.  But, I’m comfortable with the idea of pretending to be an expert to pay off my real loans. Doing it by merit takes an extremely long time.

Which leads me to the point of this post: I want to marry Rob Kardashian.

I have entertained the thought before this career epiphany for obvious reasons. What are they? Look at Rob Kardashian from behind. Hello, obvious reasons.

Undoubtedly, this would give me a great boost, but I think this would be beneficial to him, too. Yes, Rob’s doing Dancing with the Stars or whatever, but he’s still in the shadow of his sisters. At the rate he’s going now, he’s never going to get his own spin-off. I mean, he hasn’t been exactly doing anything on the Kardashian shows he’s already featured on. If he and I got married, he can snatch the gay icon crown from Kim and my future mother-in-law could flip that into a show.

I’ve already thought of potential plot lines for our reality series.

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It’s Never Ending, Eddie

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.

The Double Dipper Dilemma

While enjoying personal time with my favorite pillow two weeks ago, a friend, whom I’ll refer to as “Satana,” called me in the middle of the night.

As I answered the phone she immediately screamed, “Jackie!”

Wait, before I continue, let me explain “Jackie.”

Basically from K-12 people have constantly cracked jokes about my slanted eyes. So much that I would be referred to as Timmy Chan (a reference to a hood restaurant catering to the needs of those who want to consume large amounts of wings, fried fish, pork fried rice, and lo mein) or in this case, his play cousin, Jackie.

Don’t laugh. It only encourages the bad people.

Anyway, Satana’s reason for calling me was to share the news that she spotted the boyfriend of a mutual friend from high school at a gay club. While I haven’t seen or spoken to this person since graduation day, Satana had recently seen her and met said boyfriend.

Satana was in shock and didn’t want to acknowledge the obvious: This sum’bitch was a double dipper.

And like clock worth, she immediately thought of reasons of why she should not get involved. To be fair, I don’t blame her. Most people say they want to be told the truth about the person they involve themselves with, but when they hear it they get angry.

Imagine being told that the person you’re constantly putting on display on your Facebook page might be using you as cover.

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Watch Out, Bruce Wayne

Nicki Minaj intrigues me. Not necessarily because of any set skill, but as the only viable female emcee I can think of instantly you can’t help but wonder how she’ll fair if/when she actually drops an album.

She looks like she was created in a Mattel lab and speaks in an accent that sounds more inspired by the Queen of England than the Queens borough that bred her.

I can see why some people may not take a liking to her, but she’s not actually a bad rapper. She shows potential in “I Get Crazy,” a few other select tracks from her mixtape, and the remix to “5 Star Bitch” where she makes more of an impression than the baddest bitch herself.

It’s enough to want to give her a chance. That is, if you don’t happen to find her incredibly annoying. I get why some consider her something along the lines of Lil’ Wayne’s annoying little sister. I don’t get her language, the hip-hop Barbie angle she’s pushing, nor her speaking voice. Still, I want to like her. She’s all we have and at least she’s trying to be interesting. Everyone needs a gimmick anyway.

I’ve been wanting to write about her for a while now, but I was looking for something that will help sell her to both you and me.

This ain’t, though.

I had to watch this video a couple of times before I paid any attention to what she was actually talking about. I was too busy being distracted by the lower half of her body.

Pause. Or something.

What has she done to herself? I made a vague reference to rumors that she’s gotten butt injections last week, but damn ya’ll, why is she giving me Batman Returns villain body?

Does she not remind anyone else of The Penguin: The Thinner Years?

Why would you do that to yourself? She’s already gotten a reputation for having obese genitalia so why take it one step further with a botched butt? I’m going to hold out hope that her body will heal and that her debut single will set her career off. You would think a person who models themselves after hip-hop’s two biggest pinups would learn about the dangers of cosmetic operations (and being out of their minds).

P.S. Don’t ask me what a Waka Flocka is. I don’t even want to know.

Ahem


That is all.

I Know You See It

It’s that time again. Don’t pretend I’m alone when I say:

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And if you’re wondering if anything has changed since the first post like this, no, I’m still Bucky O’Hare. Eff you big teeth haters.

I Know You See It


When I was about five, I was at a daycare center called LaPetit Academy. Don’t let the name fool you: The location I went to was up the street, still in the hood, so bad ass kids ran amok. Some of them were haters too. Not everyone appreciated appreciate my dental game back then. At the time my head and the rest of my body hadn’t quite caught up with my two front teeth yet, so some kids trying to crack on me, told me that I looked like the cartoon character, Bucky O’Hare. Haters. I can’t repeat what I said to them…mostly because I can’t remember. I’m sure I flipped them off or repeated some words I heard from the folks standing out in front of my house. I’ve always had a mouth.

Anyway, ever since the Bucky O’Hare incident, I’ve always likened people to cartoon characters. Don’t ask why. I just do. So, while you may call me crazy, below is a set list of observations I’ve made over the years.


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If you’re wondering, Ne-Yo is Leonardo, Mike Jones is Michaelangelo, and Tameka’s bitch is Raphael.

Right now either you’re laughing or you’re thinking I’m a bit of a loonboon. But, if you read this blog regularly, you probably have your suspicions about me anyway. So c’mon nah, tell me you can’t see a resemblance in some of these pictures.