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For about a month now, Britney Spears has shown signs that she is among the alert and very much aware wing of humanity again. I first noticed signs of life in her Good Morning America interview. Then came another interview with Mario Lopez in which she displayed the kind of goofy and cutesy behavior that caused so many people to develop a soft spot for her. Just today, I heard audio from a radio interview in which she offered a very thoughtful, measured response about the role sex plays in her music career.

Fans who have been waiting for Britney to drop hints that she won’t continue living under the state of sedation were giddy to see this, but the ultimate test for that is the most obvious: Will Britney Jean Spears at least try to dance again?

I’ve prayed for this day to arrive for so long, and finally, the Legendary Ms. Britney Spears is somewhat limber again. Won’t God do it? Now if only we could get the universe to leak Beyoncé’s new single.

In any event, I say somewhat given that Britney’s still not dancing at the level she used to. I used to be hung up on that, but in hindsight, I feel like many of her fans forget that Britney hurt her knee several years ago, which suggests even if you bypassed her breakdown, chances are that she couldn’t offer “I’m A Slave 4 U” styled choreography again even if she wanted to. Like Saint Damita Jo Jackson, Britney might be afraid to give her all for fear of ending up walking with a cane or something for the rest of her life.

I wouldn’t risk that either just to please people who are going to give me their money regardless of whether or not I give them an 8-count on stage or a sad ass shimmy. Janet has managed to give you good dancing without risking her knee or the insurance policy that allows her to keep working. From the looks of the “Work Bitch” video, Britney Spears, aka the Patron Saint of White Girls Dancing, is learning to do the same.

Maybe they found the proper dosage or perhaps Britney has learned to concur her battles with anxiety and whatever other ailment that left her empty in the eyes and completely stiff on the body half of her body. Whatever caused this reinvigorated Britney to return to the world, I welcome it with open arms and bent knees.

A few people have been very cynical towards the video. “She must be using a body double.” “She still looks stiff.” “I wish she would really dance.” “I’ve seen her do better.” I don’t know what video some of your folks were watching, but I absolutely love Britney’s latest video and I applaud for her trying to dance again.

Like, Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and Tina Knowles: Won’t you sum’bitches ever learn to ease up on the criticism?

Britney is not using a damn body double — at least not this time.

No, Britney’s rhythm isn’t completely back, but truth be told, she was always a little stiff even at her peak of serving the girls on stage.

As for the other critiques, give the girl a damn break. Besides doing her speed walks on stage and on set, Britney Spears hasn’t moved her legs in a music video or performance in this fashion since Christina Aguilera was mud wrestling in awful, career destroying videos. Britney actually got on the ground to dance. Again, that’s Carson Daly is a teen heartthrob old.

Another critique I can’t stand of all things “Work Bitch” is certain criticisms of the song. Okay, you don’t have to like the song, but to call it “generic” or “cliché” is for lack of better phrase, some fuck shit. The one good thing about Britney Spears post-breakdown is that even if she’s not really present in the process, her music has remained some of the most forward-leaning pop tracks in the mainstream.

“Work Bitch” is not your garden variety EDM track. There’s nothing like it on American radio. I’ve read this sentiment elsewhere, but I agree that Britney does cleverly release some very weird pop music and make it appear to be the norm. Hell, if Blackout came out today, it’d put Miley Cyrus’ Bangerz to shame.

Also, “Work Bitch” is pretty much the most inspiring song ever. It’s like Iyanla, only catchier and less annoying. Oprah, you should’ve premiered the video.

Bottom line, despite a breakdown, a bad knee and years of questions over her mental state, Britney Spears has hung on — long enough to where she looks like she’s actually enjoying what she’s doing again. The execution isn’t perfect, but her energy is there. If that alone doesn’t move you in anyway, I demand you at least go look the last 20 seconds of the new video again.

That girl was giving, so give Britney her due.

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Basically: This was supposed to run somewhere and I believe it’s not now. But dammit, someone’s going to read this. So here it goes:

We’re brought up to believe that our parents want us to go further in life than they ever did.

Yet when a parent names their child something that might incite strokes for the tongues of anyone who dares attempt to pronounce their faux-French names should we still believe that to be true?

I’m beginning to think parents have declared some sort of secret war on their offspring. It’s as if new mommies and daddies want to screw over their kids and cause human resources to instantly get a whiff of Lawry’s and Louisiana Hot Sauce the second one of their poorly named children submits a resume.

Of course, some of these children still manage to land jobs. Just the other day I came across a bank teller named Classic. Perhaps he was conceived at the State Fair Classic and his parents want that special memory to live on.

Wherever the source of his name stems from Classic has it a lot better than Jacorolynstans Onassis. Yes, that’s an actual name. I saw it in the program for my cousin’s high school graduation. I waited anxiously to see the announcer shed light on how you actually say her name out loud without taking a lunch break in between. Jacorolynstans didn’t show up, though, so to this day that mystery remains unsolved.

It gets worse than that…far, far worse.

Anytime I post about any distinctive name on Twitter and I’m instantly amassed with replies from followers who can top me.

“I got [a] cousin named “Unique Petal Lloyd.”

“[I] saw a chick working at Target named L’Oreal.”

“I graduated high school with a Starburshia. Apparently, my friend knows a Shadynasty (SHA-DYNASTY).”

“I went to school with a dude named Success. He wasn’t very successful.”

In L’Oreal’s defense, she may be Creole.


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I think Master P’s kids deserve their very own entry as it’s a litter of them with names out of this world.

I’m at the point now where I can properly pronounce most of the ‘unique’ names of children even if I don’t know what the hell their name actually means. Such is the Case for Percy’s daughter, Cymphonique.

In addition to little Cymphonique – who on the site posted a video about wanting to be an “inspiring actress, dancer, and singer” (she’s 12, ya’ll — I give her a pass) – there are her brothers and sisters.

Like Lil’ King, the 8-year-old rap sensation who boasts lines like, “This young man, I’m #1/That means I come second to none/With a nick, nack, patty wack, send them haters home/My name is King and I’m coming for the thrown,” from his single, “Wiggy Wiggy.”

Not to be outdone, there’s another rapping brother named Vercy. He’s not to be confused with another Miller boy named Hercy. Or Veno, who sings.

Per Siyclone, I’ve learned the kids P. has with his wife include, Percy III (Lil’ Romeo), Vercy, and Hercey. The girls include Itali, Tytyana, and Intylyana.

The others are from another mother. They’re all promoted as triple threats, however.

Did ya’ll get all that?

Last week the homie texted me that he met a girl named LaTiffany. I’m sure most of us will agree when compared to Cymphonique and Intylyana, LaTiffany’s name might as well be Julie.

Edit: Per an anonymous commenter: “Lil’ King isn’t Cymphonique and Vernen’s (Veno) brother…thats their cousin…Lil’ King is Silkk’s son not Percy’s.”

I read one thing, two people tell me something different, and now something else. I’m confused about who’s child support check goes to whom, but I do know all those names are still ‘unique.’

Thanks for leaving this, though!

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This post continues to be the standard bearer, but the more I hear about these creatively crazy names from family and friends, the more I think I need to start making this a regular feature. I got a text yesterday about a child named Sjondarian Bland.

What is a Sjondarian Bland?

My browser’s spell-check wanted to call him Sanitarian or Secondarily.

The name could be based on generic wine. Perhaps it’s inspired by an STD, or maybe it falls under the standard faux-French fuck up of a name so many Black people like to give their children.

Why do people continue to do this to their kids? The minute a name like that is spotted on a birth certificate is the minute you leave the room and call CPS. Better yet, call CPS in front of the mother. Make them understand how wrong they are.

If your aim is to ruin your child for life for ruining your figure, you can actually still do worse than Sjondarian. Let’s play a game of screw a child. No R. Kelly.

Wii’pop Champane
Betada-Yontada Say

That’s all I got right now. I should probably make a run to Popeyes for inspiration. I’m playing: I really just want some chicken strips and a biscuit with grape jelly and/or honey. But I bet if I go on Tuesday when it’s the two piece special for .89 cents, I’ll get some good names.

I know you want to play along, so come on. 🙂 And if have have some names, please pass them along to me.

By the way, noot to be stereotypical, but Sjondarian is currently in custody. I’m just saying…

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Yesterday I attended my cousin’s high school graduation. Out of the twelve kids who walked across the stage, eleven of them had some of the most “creative” names I’ve come across in a very long time. These negroes (and one hispanic) might as well spray their resumes w/ hot sauce and Lawry’s seasoned salt and just scare the human resources people away. Here’s a look at some of the names:

Frozina (sounds like something Minute Maid sells)
LaPorschia Na’Quita
LaRocha Jenna
Tyronza LaShon
LaToydra Valienta
Zeandreia A’Nuel
Aunanesha Chanta
Jeretta Rashae
Sharnequa Danae
LaNecia Veronique
Treykia Quinchelle
Kokesia Kiqwane
Marquiesha Ja’Nae
CaNotstria Anvon
Jacorolynstans Onassis

I’m particularly mad at the last name. I sat there and waited for them to announce her name just so I could learn how in the hell you pronounce it. She (I’m assuming, but you never know anymore) didn’t show. If anyone can loan me $500 to figure out which vowel I need to buy to pronounce her name, it’d be greatly appreciated.

No wonder the sign language people sat down the entire graduation. After those names, they probably just said, “Fuck it.”

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