You Sent It: Big Yo’s Lesbian Housewives Trailer

I am all types of confused after watching a trailer for the would be reality series, Big Yo’s Lesbian Housewives. In case you were curious as to what a Big Yo is, it’s a longtime lesbian club promoter based in Houston. I recall hearing about her club from a lot of my fast ass gay friends in high school. One of those very friends sent this to me – presumably as bait.

I get it, folks. Everyone wants to be a star. Y’all see NeNe Leakes has gone from Country Crocker to the country club and y’all wanna be down, too. Trailers like these, though, prove yet again why everyone can’t be like Baloo.

No offense to these studs and fishes in the clip as they seem like lovely people, but if you’re going to try and sell a reality show (Keefy prefers the title The Secret Lives of Studs) can you front with feeling? And reason. Am I really supposed to believe that this stud with a sleeve is messing around with men? What, is she topping the dude? They both looked like they were holding in their laughter. Let it out, ladies, ’cause I damn sure did.

I will applaud Big Yo for making the most effort. Clearly, she’s been studying the Tyler Perry school of overacting. She still needs a lot more people, but here’s to hoping she scores the lead in Madea Gets Her Bussy Licked. As for that “Coming Soon to VH1!” line in this video’s summary:  They’re gonna air the sex tape Santa Clause made of the Easter Bunny blowing Jesus’ back out before this. But you know, there’s always LOGO or World Star so good luck and God bless and shit.

Strike Two?

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.

Gang of Confusion

As much as I like Amber Rose, I’m a bit confused. While I’m not exactly an expert on Westerns, my Pa-Pa surely was and every now and again I would catch my mama watching, too. I myself have seen a few episodes of Walker, Texas Ranger. I am not sure that even counts, but for the record, the theme song to that show knocks. To this day. Yeah, I don’t know much about the genre. Be that as it may, I’m pretty sure no woman with a blond fade could just walk into some tavern with a deep Philly accent asking some old country man where her homegirl’s at.

The same can be said of the other clips I’ve seen of Teyana Taylor, Claudia Jordan, and Rocsi, who also star in the movie. I missed the first Gang of Roses on purpose, so perhaps I’m missing the dots that connect this story that make it plausible. Like maybe the Wild Wild West had a hood version across the railroad tracks where women of various ethnicities and dialects were allowed to roam free on their horses and buggies.

I’m also a bit miffed at the title of this clip: “AMBER ROSE/ SURPRIZING peformance in Gang of Roses 2!!!!”

What was “SURPRIZING” about this performance exactly? That she didn’t start laughing at her surroundings?

In theory, I kind of dig the idea of blacks doing spins on Westerns. We ought to be diversifying. As if Tom Cruise is really the last damn samurai. Problem is, this flick just doesn’t seem like it makes much sense. Thus far this looks akin to Herman Cain playing Nitta Sayuri in Memoirs of a Geisha. I won’t discount it completely, though. I mean, if anyone of you wants to buy this for me on discount (and believe me, this will end up in the discount bin at Walmart) and send it off, I’ll give it a formal review later. If not, I’ll just assume the villain of this film looks like T-Pain, talks like Trick Daddy, and rides a horse with platinum hoofs.

Let’s end on a positive note: At least Amber Rose is making some money. That and only one fight broke out on set between Teyana Taylor and the director (allegedly). Maybe they can do a spin-off based on that: When Harlem Hits Haw upside the head (allegedly).

Way To Go, J.Lo!

The last time I wrote about a Jennifer Lopez song, I wasn’t particularly nice. In a review of “Fresh Out The Oven” I wrote that I’d rather hear a mixtape from Rosie Perez. That was probably the nicest thing I said, too.

I wasn’t happy to write any of that, though, because I like a lot of Jennifer Lopez’s music. Well, before it started to suck. I haven’t claimed anything before “Get Right” until now.

After two disappointing albums, a random alter ego named “Lola” and a bunch of a ill advised single choices I assumed that Jennifer Lopez the singer was over.

And then I saw this clip. This magical clip of Jenny giving exactly all that made me love her.

Sure, she sings over other people’s vocals, and yes, she sometimes steals people’s songs from them. But dammit, J.Lo gives it in a video. Look at her. Doesn’t she look amazing? My shallowness is in full glee.

Yes, I agree that she kind of looks like Beyoncé’s long lost Spanish auntie, but so what? The Queen borrowed from Jenny and Jenny is now borrowing from her. It’s the circle of twirk.

After watching this clip I went and found the full version of the song. I am in love now. I didn’t think The-Dream and Tricky Stewart were going to do much with Jennifer considering they didn’t do a great deal for Ciara. I have a bit of hope now.

Now, I’m not entirely sure this song will do well on the charts. Even if it doesn’t though, this video gives me reason to renew my interest in Jennifer Lopez’s recording career. She is still capable of giving me meaningless, superficial songs that I can get up and dance to. That’s all we can really ask of our marginally talented pop singers, really.

So, kudos to you Jennifer. Not only did you get me to watch American Idol for the first time since George W. Bush’s reelection, but now you’ve got me singing along to you again.

I’m excited. So excited that I went back and gave your Neptunes track another try. That didn’t turn out too well, but hey, you can’t win ‘em all, girl.

C’mere Wolf Boy

I know what some of you are thinking: “Negro with an igga, you been ghost for more than a week and you come back blogging about this shit?”

Look, I’ve been working hard on…other things. Plus, if I’m being perfectly honest, ideas were a little scarce as I hit up various editors with pitch after pitch in order to avoid hitting the pole and potentially catching a permanent itch.

But hey, it’s better than not posting, right?

Probably not if I’m coming back talking about a movie called Wolf Boy, huh?

Well whatever, I might actually see this. Probably not because this looks like a cinematic masterpiece or anything. Full disclosure: I only clicked on the trailer because the preview image on the homepage of World Star Hip Hip was of Romeo Miller with his shirt off.

Now that he’s allowed to buy us a drink without catching a club a case, I can say that without shame.

In theory, I support the idea of black filmmakers going for the genre less traveled. Not every film needs to depress me or try and make me laugh at a joke only funny to people who can’t define the word stereotype without stuttering. At the same time, though, I’m not sure what to make of a movie called Wolf Boy starring Master P’s kid.

There’s only two scenarios for such a flick: Either you’ll be surprisingly entertained or predictably pissed off you didn’t use your time better — like say, pouring Four Loko into your ear for the hell of it.

Show of hands: Who plans on watching this on YouTube in six or seven months? And am I the only one who clicked on the link for incredibly shallow yet still very much satisfying reasons?

Be honest even if you’ll be clowned for it the way I’m sure some of you are about to clown me.

Help Them Or Us?

This is the problem with telling people they can be anything they want to be without offering specific details.

Perhaps it’s because I haven’t paid any attention to Marques Houston since the time those set of twins would shut doors in his face, but I had no idea that he and his fictitious relative, Omarion Grandberry were doing horror films directed by that walking colonic, Chris Stokes.

And little did I know that whatever straight-to-DVD feature they did the first performed well enough to warrant a sequel. Now who among you do I have to send sternly worded emails to for making this happen? No really, fess up now and get ready for my fired up font.

I suppose in theory, I should be supporting the notion of a black-helmed horror film given we’re typically sliced, diced, and discarded so easily in much of the ones Hollywood produces. Thank goodness I don’t often lose my better senses in the name of symbolism, though, because this movie looks like some old bullshit no matter who’s behind it.

Marques Houston has obviously all but abandoned the advice the acting coaches in his formative years shared with him, opting instead to embrace this hokey, blatant type of acting. I think there’s a term for it: bad (“you know it, you know”).

Spaghetti is a boring enough dish in of itself. He could’ve at least tried a little harder to make that student loan meal sound better. Focus, Marques!

Like that girl who walks into this rented home that I swear I saw on an episode of Keeping up with the Kardashians. The one that’s Khloe Kardashian’s friend and assistant (the best kind of friend, apparently). You know, the one that was pretending to date Rob but we all knew better even if they didn’t tell us they were just kidding? She’s actually not awful.

As for his brother in booty (according to Raz-B anyway), Omarion: As much as I enjoy looking at him (well, one part the most), he is to acting what Ciara is to operatic singing.

And really, he’s playing a security guard? Isn’t he like barely hovering over five inches? No shade to the short men as I dig them, but that dude can’t even throw his flashlight in the face of any bandit. Who exactly is he supposed to secure, Poking Stokes?

O seems like a really nice person, but I don’t see it for him as an actor. Go do some kid show, man. They have lower standards. Then again, maybe he already is. I can’t imagine anyone over the age of 14 and 3 quarters being into this.

Well, an unexposed teen anyway. I knew awful early on. I don’t know what damage “No Child Left Behind” has done for the future of film.

According to its Facebook page, Somebody Help Me 2 premiers on TV later this week. Ya’ll let me know how that goes down, okay?

Don’t Save Him, He Don’t Wanna Be Saved

In white people please stop it news, Hollywood has unveiled yet another film about some poor, misguided, unscrupulous Negro being saved by you guessed it – some paler, gentler, caring individual from the other side of the racial aisle.

I really like Sandra Bullock, but is the best her agent could come up with? The accent is abysmal, the storyline is trite, and wait, no why keep going – let’s just focus on the storyline.

Has the film industry not learned from the lessons of Radio?

How many stories like this is the film industry going to keep telling? I don’t want to see some story about some big black man being taught to read well enough to sign his name on an NFL contract. We all know how that story ends. Ain’t that right, Michael Vick?

To be fair, this movie is based on the book, The Blind Side: Evolution of a Game by Michael Lewis. The premise is as follows:

An intermittently homeless Memphis ghetto kid taken in by a rich white family and a Christian high school, Oher’s preternatural size and agility soon has every college coach in the country courting him obsequiously. Combining a tour de force of sports analysis with a piquant ethnography of the South’s pigskin mania, Lewis probes the fascinating question of whether football is a matter of brute force or subtle intellect.

So it’s indeed rooted in a true story. Yet I’m still irritated. I haven’t read the book, but based on its summary it seems as though film producers have taken this story and trivialized it into some cliché-driven sports movie focusing on the same old black pathology subplot. He’s poor, he’s black, he’s big, so brawn, he can’t read, but thank you Lordy, some nice wealthy woman is gonna hug him and make it all better.

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Fall Music Preview

Now that the fourth quarter has become the only time you can expect to hear new releases from the recording industry’s biggest stars, it’s usually the only time I get really excited about music anymore.

Yet, this year I’m not really as geeked as I have been in the past. Much of that has to do with no one releasing anything that makes me go, “Oooh, I’m going to drop it by the bar when this plays in the club.” Or: “Damn, why did they release this? It’s about to make me feel all mushy about…none of your damn business.”

It doesn’t help that ya’ll collectively did not go out and support any of the people who did release good albums this year – Electrik Red, LeToya Luckett, Mariah Carey Cannon.

So I’m trying, but I’m not there yet. Still, let’s have a discussion and pretend music is better than what it is. I’ll drop names of big fourth quarter releases and you tell me whether they’ll get love from your wallet, your hard drive, or the retirement home where their tired asses need to go.

Rihanna: Rated R

Depending on how long you’ve read my site, you know I have a love/hate relationship with her. Well, more like indifference then boredom and now acceptance. I eventually bought her last album (which is quite good) and I find her audition to be the new Grace Jones somewhat intriguing (though mainly for comedic reasons).

However, thus far she’s yet to release anything that’s wowed me. “Umbrella” was an undeniable hit and none of the recently leaked tracks have yet to match it.

I don’t find “Russian Roulette” to be the welcoming music to the seventh circle of hell like others do. Such talk should be left for the short yellow bus or the Times Square train station. But, it’s not all that moving either. She gets a point for stepping it up vocally, though it’s not something I’ll ever rush to hear. Same for “Wait Your Turn.” That’s OK, too, but it’s about as exciting as a colonic. “Hard” aka “Diva Part 2” is better, nevertheless my interest in the album has waned a little.

Chris Brown: Graffiti

His album cover reminds me of another issue I’ve always taken with him: His image. It’s not as polished as it could be, thus leaving himself open to smart asses like me. Lucky for him he’s a short haired, thick, red bone (thank you, Lil’ Wayne) so people give him passes. No matter, though, he can rock the “Just Fine” leggings and Sasha Fierce arm all he wants – the picture isn’t that bad and it seems to be a reflection of his personality, which is what we say we want from artists, right? Moreover, with the success of the penile “Upgrade U,” I think he’s proven he can overcome a little adversity.

I’m curious to hear this solely because I want to understand why I should. This boy sings and women wave like the ocean and men put dents in desks. I do not, but he’s obviously not going anywhere. The least he could do is give me an album I’d actually like. Waiting.

Alicia Keys:  The Element of Freedom

I hated her last album. To the core. She took the one quality that I liked about her – she appreciated soul music – and traded it in for a U2 inspired sound no doubt an obvious play to crossover even more and get an Album of the Year nod from NARAS. It didn’t work so what does she do? Recreate “No One”  (to her credit, this song was huge…meh) for her underwhelming, underperforming first single and channel Prince yet again for its follow-up.

She’s not the best singer, I never bought her image, but “You Don’t Know My Name” always reminds me to still have interest in her. I’m obviously not getting that on this album, but I still want to know just one she’s offering.

So far this album seems like a snooze. If I were her I’d do a cover “Boom I Got Your Boyfriend” and tell the critics this album was a reflection of her inner soul. Or whatever bullshit ‘deeper’ artists like to say when they want Grammys.

Usher: Raymond vs. Raymond

Minus the debut (which is actually quite good), this was the first Usher album that I refused to buy. It might have spent 36 hours on my hard drive in full. The last one was a love letter to Tameka, so of course post-breakup it’s a kiss-off to her. I find “Papers” tacky and a lazy way of recreating “Confessions Part II” – a song I never liked to begin with.

If any of the recently leaked tracks are any indication of what’s to come from the new album, Usher might as well start humming Chris Brown’s “Winner.”

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