Look here, y’all. I’ve been waiting for D’Angelo to come back for a very, very long time. Obviously, I’m overjoyed to see that not only is he back on stage, he’s back on it without sounding like a damn fool. This is a feat and anyone who’s heard any of those sorry (!) demos of his that have leaked in recent years is relishing in it. Indeed, glory be to God that he doesn’t sound like the WB Frog. To that end, I need some of you folks to do me a favor: shut up. Do not scare this man away. I need him more than you know.

Yesterday, Wendy Williams did an impromptu poll among her audience about D’Angelo’s return. The results? They want him to stop eating fried fat back and hire a trainer. They prefer D’Angelo shirtless and with hard rock abs. Go download some porn. Admittedly, D’Angelo continues to look like he ate ODB. Give him credit for at least doing some push ups and reps with the dumb bells. Or not. It’s whatever to me as I don’t give a single fuck about the way he’s looking right now. I’m just happy he’s singing again. So happy that I’m ready to fry his big ass some fish if he so desires.

Do you folks more fixated on his waistline than his vocal chords not realize how bad R&B has gotten, especially when it comes to male R&B artists? Most of whom don’t even deserve to be thrown in that category, for the record. I need D’Angelo — a legitimate soul singer with ability. I can’t take another year of fake R&B thugs naming more designer labels than a queen high on coke and hijacked credit cards.

Likewise, I am exhausted by this Europop dance trend. How much longer do I have to put up with American music artists theming everything around what was poppin’ in Belgium back in 1996? Give us free.

I need a break and D’Angelo might finally help usher in one. I’ve never been attracted to that man, so perhaps that only heightens my inability to side with the superficial. Whatever it is, that “D’Angelo needs to come back until he is cut again” talk needs to go the fuck on somewhere, yo. I remember reading some Spin magazine article a while back about his whereabouts. It seems part of what sent his psyche into a tizzy was him feeling ostracized. People didn’t want to hear the music anymore. They showed up to his concerts ready to fuck him — throwing their panties on stage and what not. We gotta be gentle with Michael Archer, otherwise he might go back to the trap house, the crazy house, or wherever he was hiding his genius from us. That cannot happen because I’ll be damned if we go through another year of a bunch of half-ass crooners giving us their best R. Kelly and/or Ace of Base impersonation.

So again, go hose your hot asses down until the coast is clear. Don’t blow it for me ’cause he doesn’t look like the man you used to wanna blow. Sometimes you gotta do baby steps on the hoe stroll.

As many of you readers know by now, Tamar Braxton is the hot sauce to my catfish fresh out the fryer. And as previously noted, my adoration for Ms. Dotcom started before Braxton Family Values. I’ve been patiently waiting for Tamar’s talent to get the p-pop it deserves so I’m quite excited to hear any news about what’s to come. Folks need to know Tamar is as good a singer as she is a reality personality.

A couple weeks ago a few of my friends, unfamiliar to Tamar Braxton’s solo album released in 2000 (for shame), watched the video for her debut solo single, “Get None.” In short: If songs were birds the track would go great with Christian Fried Chicken’s polynesian sauce. Despite that fun quality, most of them were less than enthused with what they saw. I, naturally, sang along to the song word for word (what lyrics I could recall anyway). Based on this clip, I gather we’re going to get a somewhat more mature version (relatively speaking, surely) of that. That somewhat concerns me because I feel like some people are going to say, “Tamar is too old for that.” The right side of me says to that idea, “Shut up. I’m only a few birthdays away from entering the third decade of life.”

And hopefully once I do, I’ll still want to be sweating in the club on occasion if the spirit beat calls upon thee. If Jay-Z can be played in the club at 100-years-old (dog years), I’m into the prospect of Tamar dippin, poppin’, twirkin’ and stoppin’ in her mid-thirties. Yes, a Beyoncé reference was necessary. Tamar would totally want it that way. Anywho, while I’m glad J.Lo continues to break people off in her forties on stage, she never released the video for “Good Hit” so lately we’ve only been getting shake something pop anthems of the Cher’s “Believe” variety. We need the urban black equivalent.

So bring it, Sister Braxton. I believe in you and your abilities to get the club going while you keep your edges tight. Give me something to aspire to. Lord knows when I’m her age I want to continue being the cool uncle, not the uncle who only does the stanky legg while he waits for his cranberry juice to kick in so he might finally relinquish fluids. Boom.

Oh, as for those of you who continue to deny my girl’s abilities, or maybe just don’t know about them, park yourself under the hood and check out my favorite Tamar Braxton song, “Words.”

Sing now.

I imagine Drake spent much of today fighting off tears as he performed the “Are You That Somebody” choreography in his living room as a tribute to the late Aaliyah on her birthday. Aubrey has made his affinity for Aaliyah creepily clear with his constant shout outs, random open letters to the dead that seemed more appropriate for a séance versus a blog post, and now shots like these featuring the face of the singer on his surprisingly nice back. While I know it’s Drake’s body and he and Lil’ Wayne are free to do with it as they please (kidding, y’all), it’s still weird — even for reasons outside the obvious.

Okay, so you decided to put that somebody on your body. Fine, whatever, super stan. But, why is Mr. Owl from the Tootsie Roll pop commercials on the other side of your back, though? I’m assuming one of The Fabulous Freebirds atop Aaliyah is a joint homage to the NWA and the original motion picture soundtrack for Dr. Dolittle. Then again, I’m trying to make sense of someone who acts like he used to pass notes with Aaliyah in class. Silly, silly me. Let’s just focus on the positive: Drake’s got great arms, too. Makes me wanna go do a push up. Any minute now, folks.

Alright, enough of that. Explain those tattoos to me post haste. I need answers.

P.S. Don’t worry about the “Eric Kane” title. That was for Drakey. If he saw it, I’m sure he’d dig it.

Last week I read an article on The Root entitled “Beyoncé’s Incredible, Miraculous Pregnancy,” in which the writer basically assailed my lord and gyrator under the false allegation that she was shoving her pregnancy down everyone’s throat and that she needed to quit acting as if she’s the only person in history to be with child.

Part of the piece included jabs like this:

I’m happy for you, Bey, but the joy growing inside your womb is not the blueprint, and it is not biblical. It isn’t the Visitation; nor is it the dawn of a new epoch in the human calendar. It’s a baby.

Not to mention a subheading called “A Mom-To-Be Who Knows Her Place.”

Now you know I had to write a response to that. In my latest essay for The Root, “It’s Not Beyoncé, It’s You” I hit back at all of the author’s off base accusations and remind her and others that it’s none of our places to tell a woman to tame her excitement about becoming a mother. You can click here to check it out.

Feel free to hit like, tweet, and email the piece around. You an also hit your sexy and slow stanky legs, too. And remember: Watch you what you say about the Queen. The hive ain’t having it.

I wanted to call this post “Conspiracy Cunts,” but I figured that might not be the best thing to have on my Twitter feed and Google index. I blame the Puritans. That’s still pretty much how I feel about this ridiculous story about Beyoncé faking her pregnancy all the same.

I noticed on the very night Beyoncé casually announced being with child that the headmistress of online sensationalism quickly barked that it was all a farce. That was to be expected if you’ve ever read the blog. Unfortunately, I gave other people the benefit of the doubt. I never learn, damn closet idealism.

There are people who actually believe Beyoncé is fronting about her growing fetus. And not just fronting: She’s cut her fancy pillow up into the shape of a prosthetic belly, which folds in front of foreign journalists. This video is tagged as “Best Proof Ever Beyonce is faking her pregnancy!! But Why? What u think?”

I think an insanely sad number of people are fucking morons.

I’m only getting started, too.

Earlier today, I saw another sensationalist, Wendy Williams, chime in with her thoughts on this non story. I love Wendy, but I’m not shocked she pushed this ridiculousness. She can’t ever fully escape her radio behavior. She does so for entertainment purposes, of course. I know she knows better. The problem is many people don’t and that scares me.

More than likely, that whole dress flap thing can be attributed to fabric. Whatever it is, folks should know better and more importantly, they ought to not be so pathetically sadistic. I’ve noticed around the Web that there are a few who actually take delight in the idea that Beyoncé is barren or that she’s doing this as a gotcha to Jay-Z’s alleged “mistress.”

Everyone has the right to be a dense simpleton who marvels in misery, but why not aim higher? A hugely famous multi-millionaire married to another super known multi-millionaire is going to rock a fake stomach. Despite being one of the most photographed human beings on Earth. I bet these same people believe the lyrics to “I Believe I Can Fly” can turn one into a flying monkey.

The world is full of failed novelists posing as bloggers and lazy journalists. To the smiles of gullible fools ready to be suckered in.

Fine, believe Beyoncé has a surrogate. Hell, believe she got Yogi Bear to nut in a cup to boot. That’s your choice. I just hope if you do believe in fabrications pushed by self-loathing storytellers that you’re pro-choice. Aww, that was mean. No meaner than trying to steal the joy of a pregnant woman, though.

Not that you could in this case.

Edit:

Now can folks hush up already?

Fear not, fat children of America. The queen has come to save you.

A couple of months ago, I wrote a piece for AOL News about Michelle Obama’s campaign to fight childhood obesity. In sum: These Republican jackasses bashing the First Lady for pointing out the obvious need to slip on some fried pork chop grease. That’s right, gon’ head (yes, gon’ head) and bust your asses on the corner of Reality and Check.

The person who can fall first is Sarah Palin.

That intelligence-deficient droid knew damn well that Michelle was not advocating everyone bully the Girls Scouts into selling gluten free cookies. All the woman said was we need to get kids active and eat more balanced meals. I mean, if I did that when I was huffing down orders of 20-piece nuggets at the age of 11 perhaps I wouldn’t have felt like I needed a bra between ages 12 and 15.

Michelle is advocating health and fitness yet somehow that translated into the communist black lady forgot her American and soul food roots and wants us to eat like Chinese Olympic gymnasts (who don’t).

You would think that if nothing else, we could all agree that children shouldn’t look like Sasquatch’s older and much fatter sibling before graduating from elementary school. Apparently not, though.

Thankfully, Lady O continued her campaign anyway and has since tapped Beyoncé to aid the cause.

Naturally, I’m not surprised Michelle turned to Beyoncé for help. I mean, at this point it should be well established that the Obamas are Beyoncé stans. That only further lends credence to my theory that if you don’t like Beyoncé at all then there’s something wrong with you. There just is.

Anyway, this is probably the cutest video I’ve seen in a really long time.

Not only does my Lord and gyrator look amazing, but those kids look happy as hell. This is like a black holiday gathering on steroids. You know, when all the kids are dancing? It’s just like that, only this time you’re visiting the relatives who live in the suburbs with the friendly white neighbors (similar to the couple on The Hughleys) who bring their kids over, too. Same thing only set in a cafeteria twirk off.

And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say I spot the boy I referred to as Kid Fierce in a previous blog entry to the left. He’s all grown up now and still showing hoes no love as he makes sure the camera catches him at the perfect pose. That’s right, lil’ one. You were born this way.

I imagine by album five Beyoncé will hire him.

All and all, God Bless Michelle Obama for asking Beyoncé to help her in saving kids the trouble of needing a Jennifer Hudson-themed Weight Watchers program before they turn 30.

To do my part to promote the “Move Your Body” campaign I plan on recreating this dance on a sidewalk near you soon. Who’s down to join me?

P.S. I peeped the shade in my previous Beyoncé post. To that I say: That’s okay, everyone makes mistakes.

I have longed accepted that not everyone will like Beyoncé.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I think people like that suffer from some sort of personality disorder. Be that as it may I respect people’s right to deny greatness and available medication from their virtual pharmacist, iTunes.

What I don’t cut for her is the notion of coming for the Queen’s throat over an unfinished demo.

Such is the case for Beyoncé’s new single, “Girls (Who Run The World).”

The version that was leaked yesterday is not the finished product. Not surprisingly, that fun fact hasn’t stopped people from writing soliloquies about how it’s time to lock Beyoncé out of the studio based on what they’ve heard.

I don’t really care if some folks don’t like it ‘cause everyone else will.

What does irritate me a bit, though, is one aspect of the criticism largely centered on the idea that her single and its lyrics aren’t “deep enough.”

If you’re looking for the meaning of life from Beyoncé I need for you to go and let your forehead kiss the sidewalk.

She is a pop singer and every so often a pop singer wants to release mindless music that people like me can shake their asses to in the club, gym, car, sidewalk or restaurant.

I don’t want to hear “Heal The World” or “One Sweet Day” from her all the time. God blessed her with those thighs and her jig for a rea-son.

If you want something more of depth or “grown up” theme, go turn on Adele. Or maybe play the first side of I Am…Sasha Fierce.

In the meantime, stop acting like Beyoncé owes you “mature” (re: old lady) music for the rest of her career because she’s 29.  Folks tend to be really harsh on females when it comes to telling them to “act their ages.” Beyoncé gave you all a bit more substantive music on the last album. This time she wants us to twirk something.

Let her live and the kids live. Damn, buzz killers.

Even worse, I’m annoyed with people who say Beyoncé’s “too grown” for the lyrics of “Girls (Who Run The World)” yet still sing along to the same cliché-riddled bullshit a bevy of male rappers and R&B singers produce.

But I guess it’s okay for Kanye West to perpetuate that sexist nonsense about what he taught your pussy. Yeah, I thought so.

The same applies to those who say they’re tired of her “female anthems.”

Empowerment through materialism can grow a bit irritating after a couple of – uh, centuries – but at the same time, eh, we live in America. And again, she’s a pop star. What are you expecting? The Secret over a Diplo beat? Next.

Maybe the song isn’t the end all, be all to women, but I when I come across nonsense like this on my Facebook homepage I’m reminded of why she keeps trying (in her own way):

“I kinda disagree with the song..girls don’t run no world, not all girls make 300 million a year…some bitches actually need a man…”

For the record, I am not friends with this fool. It’s on the page of someone else I’m friends with. May his balls turn into mush.

There are other claims that are less dumb but still asinine all the same.

Over the past few months I’ve seen comments like, “I hate that’s she poaching Frank Ocean. He’s underground, leave him there.”

Yes, because the guy who has written for Justin Bieber totally wants to be an outsider.

Or the tried and true (not to mention tired) retort from a Beyoncé detractor: “Do you like everything she does?”

Yes, because I’m so obsessed with Beyoncé that I think her body odor should be sold as deodorant.

I hate when people say this to me.

I also hate, “If X artist did this you wouldn’t like it.” Well, X, Y, and Z ain’t B so I don’t see the point in mentioning that. It’s one of those things that only sounds good in someone else’s head. Not every artist is as interchangeable as some think. That’s why there’s Beyoncé and there are the lessers.

Both are petty ways of deflecting from the obvious: Sometimes people’s criticism of Beyoncé doesn’t make a lick of sense.

Especially when it’s criticism unfounded. So I hope you deniers at least wait until the final version drops before you buy a Master Lock.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get up and do this to the song as I wait for the real thing to be released:

“I think I need a barber, none of these bitches can fade me.”

I’m putting this in my wedding vows. Or tombstone. Pay homage.

P.S. Spare me that talking point about being tired of me writing about Beyoncé, too. Accept me for who I am.

Yesterday, a vicious and terrible lie spread across the Internet that my queen and yours, Beyoncé, had an unauthorized visitor in her uterus. Quickly, many assumed that Beyoncé was finally knocked up with Jay-Z’s seed and would be sending Gerber a request to make a baby food version of red beans and rice. Some then quickly moved to start conceiving baby names for the couple while others began to cry silent tears over a botched new album and world tour in 2011.

Meanwhile, the sad souls of pop culture (those who suffer from Beyoncé denial disorder) started conjuring false hope for their respective favorites. You know, because they’re too clueless to realize that even if the Queen were breeding a princess or prince she wouldn’t simply get a doctor-approved p-pop ready for the promotional trail.

As if, folks. As freaking if.

When I read Us Weekly’s “report,” it immediately sounded sketchy to me. One, any real Beyoncé fan knows that she has been rumored to be pregnant every six months for the last ten years. In fact, if I played a drinking game themed around the number of times Bey has been rumored to be knocked up, I’d likely be dead within the first 15 minutes of playing.

Why do people keep trying to give this girl morning sickness?

Us Weekly’s source said: ”B was shocked. She loves kids, but she wasn’t ready to be a mother just yet. She really wanted to get her album done and tour the world again.”

It’s highly unlikely to see someone as calculated as she suddenly have an “unplanned pregnancy.” So, ye ain’t fooling me.

The same goes to this other “insider” who added that Beyoncé was in her first trimester and realized that “this is a gift from God and she’s so happy.”

We may all differ on religious beliefs but I’d like to think we share a faith in a God who wouldn’t be cruel enough to leave us with just Keri Hilson and Ciara (look, she gave them a chance to shine and they failed miserably — those are the breaks). Yes, Willow’s whipping her hair back and forth, but she’s still a few years away from being tall enough to actually snatch anybody’s wig.

And while I am pretty certain I’ll enjoy Rihanna’s new album, you know that girl dances like she was choreographed by Ambien.

Beyoncé is needed.

Thankfully, Mama Tina shut this shit down before people really got carried away from themselves.

Hopefully, you learned a few things from yesterday.

Like: Traditional media outlets can be just as bad and factually flawed as the very bloggers they often like to criticize.

And: Your favorites still need prayer because the Queen won’t be jiggin’ for two.

Also: Don’t believe anything about a highly private person unless they confirm it. If it took Beyoncé 19 years to tell you she let Jay-Z have a piece of her drumstick, what makes you think she’s carrying his loosie that quickly?

Now, one day there will come a point when she decides to go off and have some super talented and incredibly blessed kids. That, of course will be quite lovely and stuff so long as it occurs after I get a new album and see her in concert.

Selfish? Yeah, but whatever. Who told you I was perfect?

Besides, based on the numerous interviews where she’s spoken on the matter, I’m inclined to think she’ll have some kids when she’s good and ready. Until she decides she wants to grant someone the green light to flow from her birth canal, leave her alone.

Thanks.

Harpo, who this woman?

Judging from the way she pronounced “YouTube” it was easy to peg her as a resident of (Baltimore) Baldamo, Murrland. Or as she and other choice locals like to call it, Bodymore, Murderland. With a nickname like that it’s no wonder the town also branded as Charm City is such a tourist haven.

Let me quit clowning before I get a bunch of hollow points left in my comment section. Some of my favorite people on Earth are from Baltimore. This girl, however, isn’t one of them.

To be fair, she’s not a bad rapper at all. She has some issues with breath control but given the size of her stomach I can understand why. That’s either a baby in her belly or a 20 piece nugget at McDonalds.

If it’s the latter, I can’t blame her: A deal is a deal. Had a friend not told me one late night on a post-club excursion to Mickey D’s, “Michael do you really want to eat that?” I might have fallen victim myself. Still, let’s not make reference to calories in our rhymes. Less is more. Figuratively and literally, baby.

Nevertheless rapper Keys’ eating habits or baby making plans aren’t the problem, her pushing beef for publicity is.

Although I’m fallen under Nicki Minaj’s spell I can see why some people still don’t like her. The Barbie thing is a stretch for someone to push at her age, but evidently it’s working. Working so well Keys took the time to film a video in front of the projects to diss the hell out of her.

Maybe it’s because I’ve already contemplated legally changing my name to Mickey Minaj for at least six months for the hell of it, but I don’t think this girl’s diss is all that impressive.

Yes, she can spit but she’s essentially calling Nicki Minaj childish and saying she’s too old for toys yet she’s ranting about busting guns and robbing folks.

Really? Are we still on that kick? If someone is more about busting guns and robbing folks, how about they go ahead and do that instead of rhyming about it? That way said folks can go ahead and get locked up or be shot down and we can all be put out of our respective miseries.

If that sounds too harsh it’s in response to a girl rapping about murdering someone she doesn’t even know all in the name of getting a bunch of people who won’t actually go out and buy her stuff to co-sign on YouTube.

Yet she says she’s not about the fame. If you’re that real be real about your intentions.

One thing I like about Nicki Minaj is that even if she’s too playful for some, I’d rather entertain that than some potentially pregnant chick standing outside the projects talking about glocks and rocks and how she’s “real lyrical.” Curse the teachers who left this child behind.

I’m so over this hooder than thou bullshit.

So what if you played with guns. So what if you toted rocks. So what if claim the hood got you. In the end you’re just some random chick responding to a purported rap blow up doll that’s never going to give you the time of the day.

Now, now…roger that.

P.S. I wub you, B-More folk. I know one person doesn’t represent the whole city. If it did, you all would think my city was full of Mikes Jones’ and Slim Thugs. Gimme some crab (no infection) and let’s hug it out.

I’m trying to type this without sounding like I’m filled with tang, but dammit, why don’t some of you like this video? What’s wrong with you? What is there not to like about this video?

It’s weird? It’s Lady GaGa. Stop it. It’s too long. It’s a mini-movie, enjoy the production value you attention deficit disorder suffering doof. OK, that was a little mean, but well…ten minutes isn’t going to kill you.

I also stumbled along up this opinion via MTV News:

However, Jess Wachtel had a more cynical view of the nearly ten-minute long video. “Looks like Beyoncé and her put together a video to sell some records,” he said.

Oh my God. A pop star is trying to sell records. The world is changing so drastically. I don’t feel like I belong anymore.

Then there’s the part about it not making any sense. Well, GaGa tried to explain herself:

Such points won’t go to those who hate the product placements in the video. Normally I’d chime in and co-sign those sentiments, but the music industry is suffering so unless you want GaGa’s next video to be shot with a Flip cam watch her eat that Wonder Bread and enjoy her stunting on you heauxs in her Chanel shades.

As for the Beyonce can’t act comments:

Do that move for me this instant.

I don’t get the opinion that Lady GaGa deserves a Golden Globe yet Beyonce should never open her mouth unless she’s singing again. What I took from the video was that it was campy, over-the-top and very B-movie so in terms of acting I’m not surprised either one of them were performing the way they did. Silly me, I thought that was the point.

Anything else to me reads as nitpicking. That and I realize that when it comes to Beyonce people like repeating the the same talking point just for the sake of repeating it. Although I think outside of Cadillac Records she’s yet to really be challenged as an actress, I know that the perception about Honey B’s acting ability is so strong that even if she were to go on and wow most audiences in some role there will be people who still swear she’s Fantasia’s understudy. It’s evident by some people still claiming Beyonce can’t sing.

Hit yourself again if you think that.

But let me stop now because I tend to think people that don’t like Beyonce at all are lame. There, I said it.

As for GaGa, if this video doesn’t make you go Goo Goo for her there’s no hope.

I get that everything isn’t for anyone, but as a person who grew up at a time when music videos really mattered I appreciate GaGa for keeping the spirit of the music video alive. I loved the small homages to Michael Jackson and Madonna because honestly no artist since GaGa has really created videos anywhere close to their respective levels.

Beyonce’s certainly capable of such and I hope GaGa has inspired her to place a greater emphasis in the production values of her videos in the future. I respect the less is more approach, but a star of Beyonce’s caliber can afford (figuratively and literally) to think bigger.

I love this video. I love the visuals, I love the choreography, I love the way the product placements were done (they were tasteful, considering…), and I love the fact that two stars of their levels can come together not once but twice and there be no issue.

Just imagine what it would have been like had Janet and Madonna done a video together. Or even if Michael Jackson would’ve originally kept Madonna on for “In The Closet.” As much trash as people throw my generation’s way, I’m glad two of its largest stars can at least say their egos didn’t prevent them from making art.

Blah, I sound like I just left the set of one of the shows on the TGIF block so I’ll quit while I’m ahead.

Basically, this video is everything and if you don’t like go watch it until you do.

Thanks,

Management.