Disclaimer: Lots and lots of cussin' in this here post. I will wash my hands with soap as soon as I finish posting.
I don't like this lil' ign't sum bitch. I'm sure there's a much more eloquent way of stating such, but why bother.
Perhaps it's the part of me that hates misogynistic jackasses, or maybe it's the little voice inside my head that says thou shalt hate all lames, but this video irks the hell out of me. Not only is the idea of someone owing you sex sophomoric, the fact that Bow Wow calls out some girl by her government online is a bitch move.
He acts like a little boy. A stupid, corny little one at that. There is nothing worse than a fake ass thug. He can get all the tats in the world and put on airs that he's harder than he actually is, but he will forever be Lil' Bow Wow and being a classless clown won't change any of that. Neither will impersonating Lil' Wayne, which he seems to be doing in this video.
One would think he'd concentrate more on developing himself as an actor since that's the only viable career option he has left. Sampling TLC isn't going to save your career.
I hope Dolicia and/or Omarion smack the shit out of him.
If you're somewhere between the age of 18-34 and belong to a social network, it's likely within the last week you've received at least seven notes and/or emails with someone telling you 25 things about themselves that you didn't know before. I thought to join in, but eh I doubt ya'll care. So instead of me going that route I've remixed the theme.
Here are 20 jobs you ought to consider during the recession. If you're looking for the other five...well, we are in a severe recession.
1. Selling ass.
Look, I get that the body is a temple, and that hoeing is not the ideal career choice, but since we're talking about temples, dignity doesn't pay the rent.
2. Stripping.
Same as selling ass, only this option is for those who haven't hit rock bottom yet. The only thing about this job is though working the pole will surely keep you with a home, in these tough economic times you may end up having people hurl roles of quarters at you instead of singles. It may hurt at first, but think of Coinstar.
3. Selling drugs.
Problem with this one is that it's illegal. Technically so is prostitution, but whatever to persecuting victimless crimes. Anyway, another hurdle is that while selling coke is usually the best way to keep you afloat, people would rather pay their VISA bill. I thought to suggest crack, but hmm, there's a bit of a discrepancy in the sentencing laws. As a Black man, I'm no fool. Sell Advil to stress victims instead.
4. Sponsorship.
Unlike selling ass, you may not have to give up anything. I'm looking for one everyday of my life. That includes corporations, of course.
5. Cutting grass.
You can call it 'landscaping' if that makes you feel better about it, but you're pushing a lawn mower. I remember back in high school my Pre-Cal teacher told me I was going to end up cutting grass for pursuing a journalism degree. I told him he had me fucked up. Yes, I said it exactly like that. All of the magnet kids (I wasn't one of them) gasped, but shiiiiit, that was offensive. Then again, maybe not. I've noticed that while Pedro and 'nem may look like they're not stacking paper, they tend to live in better homes than the people they cut for.
6. Recycling newspapers.
I say recycle instead of selling them because no one actually buys the paper anymore. No offense, New York Times.
7. Open a taqueria.
I honestly don't have a clue as to what that is, but I see signs for them all around my city. Hell, every city with a sizable population. It's the new Kim's Beauty Supply.
8. Launch a rap career.
Oh you thought I was kidding about Young Sinick? No. All I need to do now is come up with a signature dance and a beat that sounds like it was inspired by down syndrome and I'll be getting that ringtone money. I'm feeling inspired by the "Stanky Leg." Maybe I can my dance the lazy arm, or better yet, turrets?
9. Become a bartender.
It's selling drugs the legal way.
10. Participate in medical studies.
If you grow an extra toe, just think of all of the bills you paid off.
11. Get knocked up by Diddy Puff.
Ladies, I normally would judge you for poking a hole through a condom, but judging from his 79 kids I don't think he wears them anyway.
12. Become Lil' Wayne's cup holder.
Seems like steady work.
13. Join a reality show.
Granted, you won't make anything on the show, but if you act the fool enough on the cameras, you can make money off club appearances. Or even get your own spin-off.
14. Become the bootleg man.
Although I say bootleg man, women, you're just as welcomed. In fact, two weeks ago at the gas station somebody's mama was trying to sell me Tyler Perry Goes To Jail. No, she didn't really have it, but she was trying to fill up her tank and get up on that Tuesday special at Church's across the street. I ain't mad. Just don't bootleg my shit in the future.
15. Lose your mind and start getting a check from the government.
Major, the neighborhood crackhead and schizophrenic walks around all day asking people to buy him a beer. Turns out, his crazy ass gets a check. Whether or not he knows this is still a mystery, but hey, disability is steady income. Take your meds and you'll survive.
16. Sell Obama t-shirts.
Dude already has like 100+ shirts on the market. Not even including the ones with the ironed own images and letters. He is the new 2 Pac. Get it on the money.
17. Sell sperm/eggs.
My only problem with this is that I get the feeling as soon as I make my first million, 88 kids claiming to be mine would pop up for back child support. Women get more for eggs than men do for sperm. I've heard women have sold their eggs for upwards of several thousand dollars. Men probably only get enough to buy two knock off Obama tees.
18. Work at a restaurant.
Then steal the meat and become your very own grocery store.
19. Become a nanny.
My friend told me yesterday she saw a listing for a nanny for $75,000. Babysitting little bad ass pale kids pays, ya'll.
20. Get a rich person to adopt you.
Different than having a sugar daddy and mama in that you're getting tossed a little cash to be someone's tax break and won't have to hum "Touch My Body" to would be prospective buyers.
A part of me appreciates Kanye West for being so left field. Even if I wouldn't model my hair after a biker named Big Sal or Pepe Le Pew, you have to admire someone willing to walk around with a nappy mullet. Wait, no you don't. He looks the fool. Pity the fool even. As in if Mr. T's hair gave birth to a son, it would probably look like Kanye West in this picture. I don't care how ahead of the curve he's purported to be. That shit is wrong.
And maybe I'm not that materialistic, but I don't get the guy's obsession with Louie Vuitton. He talks about Louie Vuitton to the point where I wonder if he could get his Louie bag pregnant, would he?
Then there's this video. Whenever you want to cut for dude, he throws out some bullshit like this. I suppose it's all about what makes you happy, and no one needs to smile more than this guy. I get that it's in jest, and I've learned not to take him seriously, but I still think Martin Luther King III ought to sit on Kanye.
The more I hear him talk about how great he is, the more I think he's got to be one of the most insecure people in the public eye. Maybe on Earth. We all have our insecurities. Some of us are a bit more pressed to make you believe otherwise, though.
I'm not the fashionista Kanye is, and maybe that's why I don't get it. Artists are free spirits, and it doesn't get any freer than this picture below.
Either they're really forward thinking with their fashion or they're auditioning for the gay mafia. The latter would explain why Kanye comes across as an annoying queen at times. So is Kanye just ahead of his time, am I a victim of close minded stereotyping, or does he need a hug? I'm thinking there's a little truth in each.
I'm passing on dropping $600 for these, but the hood won't. Oh and while I have your attention, check out this great essay on Kanye the homie Clove wrote for The Village Voice.
Meet my new obsession. Club music isn't for everyone, but in Baltimore's defense, we've all danced to a lot worse. Besides, if go-go can get a little mainstream love via a watered down form presented in an Amerie single, then it's about time the sound of B-More spread outside of Murrlyn. When I first arrived to D.C., I kept hearing what sounded like a toothless man yelling over his kids banging pots and pans. You would think whenever people drove by me blasting go-go that they were waving a gun as I ducked as if it were shooting hollow points.
Eventually, a Baldamo resident would introduce me to club music. I wasn't quite sure what to make of a remix of Dora the Explorer that Coco and Diamond could make their rent money off of, but I warmed to it. It's not like the Dora theme song by itself didn't already knock.
And then just days ago I stumbled along this beautiful ignorant gem. If I haven't mentioned it before, yeah I can read and shit, but you can't twirk to a book. Sometimes the best anti-depressant is a good jig. That's why I no longer hate the stanky leg. When I first heard the song way back last year I thought I was too old and too tall for it.
Then I went out to a bar and watched a bunch of people my age and up act a fool when the song came on -- including a bunch of waitresses in booty shorts doing it on top of tables. If you're wondering, no, I didn't join them. Yes, I thought about it, but I was sober so nah, pimpin'. There's always next time, though.
I bring up "The Stanky Leg" because a resident of Bodymore talked about how ignorant the song was. Well, "I'm The Ish" isn't exactly Alice Walker to a club beat, but it's such a fun song.
So after listening to this are ya'll questioning my taste or are you like me, taking breaks to type to finish dancing? Hopefully, this catches on and hopefully Baltimore gets credit for the song and not anyone else. Ill refrain from calling out certain cities for swagger jacking from other cities.
When I first watched Saved By The Bell: The New Class I had two instant reactions. The first being the show was the wackest thing I've ever seen in my life (at the time anyway); the other being the Black dude is clearly the new Lisa Turtle. And as fate would have it boy Lisa has returned to our television screens via the "reality" show (ha!), Brothers to Brutha.
Outside of him being a serious alcoholic with a volatile temper, I don't really have a problem with Anthony. I'm actually quite happy to see an ex-child star still alive. Then I heard he was claiming to be my age and that's when he lost me. I understand that he's not alone in the industry in terms of lying about his age, but did it not dawn on him that people might remember him?
I don't doubt for a second that any one of you can hop on Google now and find out what I ate 6 years ago in high school during C-lunch so I'm wondering why Anthony and the other senior citizens didn't think the public would find out they're more so B2K's uncles than slightly older brothers.
To be fair when Uncle Anthony says, "As long as you're doing good music, who cares how old you are?" he's dead on. I wish more artists would age gracefully. 30 is not the new 20. 30 is just the new mid-life crisis. That being said, if your age doesn't matter, then why lie about it?
But judging from their stats, those dudes have a lot more to worry about. "I Can't Hear The Music" can pretty much sums up their record sales. That's a shame, too, considering we've gone from a previous decade of so many talented male R&B groups to none (and yes, I specifically mean Pretty Ricky). Brutha didn't help matters with their choice of first single. Not to mention them always singing that cringe-inducing "He's my brother and I love him like myself." Blah.
That song is almost as bad as Anthony lying about needing rehab and a walker. Almost.
I'll never forget the first time I saw the promotional poster for Hardcore. My initial reaction was more of a question: Why did this chick have more weight in her bikini bottom than her top? Despite that mystery for the then inquisitive 12-year-old, I took to Lil' Kim. There's something about a person not afraid to be who they are no matter what people say that's so appealing.
Sometimes it's hard to remember how charismatic Lil' Kim was, how much stage presence she had, and how great a performer she used to be. It's even harder to remember how naturally beautiful she was now that she looks like the love child of Miss Swan and a switch blade. Kim can complain all she wants about Naturi's portrayal in Notorious, but that time would be much better spent in front of a mirror cursing herself out for all she's done to ruin her own legacy. Or she could flip herself off for actually wanting Christina Milian to portray her.
If only she had stuck with the plastic version of herself that Diana Ross found so titillating that she had to cop a feel on national television. Better yet, if only someone had told her that she didn't need to chop her face up with a Ginsu knife to begin with.
I stumbled along this clip a few weeks ago. How long did Rolanda's talk show last? Two weeks? Doesn't matter. Enjoy Lil' Kim when she actually looked like Lil' Kim and actually spit versus whatever she calls herself doing these days.
Sidenote: I hope the girl in this clip didn't grow up with two sets of twins with four different daddies.
That being said, I'm not going to further rant on how geeked I was to see someone who looks like me be sworn in as President of the United States. However, I will say this: Shout out to all of the slim men in cyberspace. This is our year! Fall back, chub chubs and thinphobics, we taking over!
Moving on, as you know the entire Obama family loves them some Beyonce. (Proof: Here, here and here), so it was to be expected she would find a way to use her Creole Power to secure some airtime. Although some of you are like, "Damn, chick go away," I think we all should be happy she took part in the festivities as she had some serious making up to do.
I'll never forget the day Destiny's Child performed at George Bush's inauguration and told the audience, "Let me hear you say Bush." I was hoping Bushwick Bill would magically fly on stage and dropkick her in the forehead for that. All is forgiven now, though. Not because she vehemently supported Barack Obama. That helps, but what really gets me is 1:27 in the video.
Say what you will about Barack, but Beyonce saying she wants to be smarter is change we can all believe in. That makes me forgive the Obama campaign for hitting my inbox up every other second on near crack head like levels. I'm doubling my financial contribution for the reelection campaign.
9. Speaking of Ne-Yo, am I the only one who feels that if you’ve heard one Ne-Yo the Negro song, you’ve heard them all?
10. Don’t you feel a little bad for Brandy?
11. Does Prince owe Rihanna child support?
12. Was Seven Pounds supposed to be a voyeuristic equivalent of a sleeping pill?
13. Since there’s a 22-year-old selling her virginity to the highest bidder online, I’m thinking about selling my self-respect online via Craiglist. How much do you think I can get?
14. Are we really blaming Beyonce for the economic crisis? Really?
15. If that’s the case, should we blame “Stanky Leg” for our America’s shitty health care system?
16. Why are people treating inauguration like it’s All Star Weekend?
17. What the hell is a Bromance?
18. Now that her ex-husband has declared he’s broke, does that mean The Greedy Ex-Wife of Bankhead, Sheree Whitfield will have to work like the rest of us?
Not to mention shaking Adrian Fenty's hand like they were homies and saying, "'preciate ya." I wonder how long it will be before there's a basketball goal hanging in the front of the White House and the Obamas are barbecuing in the front lawn.
I really love this. This is change I can jig to. I mean, it was nice seeing Bill Clinton play the sax on Arsenio and all, but there's nothing like the real thing. We still appreciate your efforts, Willie. Welfare reform and changes to federal sentencing, not so much, but I digress.
This all makes me want to cling on to the hope that I can one day be Senator Sinick. It would be like spreading hot sauce and bounce music all over the capital (screw during the lame duck session). Oh how much fun that would be.
I have had this long stemming debate with a friend of mine: Whether or not an artist’s personality should factor into how you feel about them and their music.
I get the feeling I don’t articulate my position well enough, so here it goes: I judge the music solely on merit, but as far as wanting to monetarily support an artist, if I don’t like you, I don’t want to support you.
But, I have to say, I do believe personality matters when you’re an artist to some degree. If you’ve never experienced anything, it’s evident in your material – particularly the way you perform it. Yes, that one is about Beyonce.
Anyway, another example would be if you don’t know who you are, everything about you – I’m talking image, sound…everything – will stick out.
The more I look and listen to Ciara, the more I think that one applies to her. She reminds me of what I can’t stand about so many contemporary artists these days. They all try too hard to get us to view them in a certain light versus simply being and letting us draw our own conclusions.
Why can’t artists wait for us to tell them that they’ve matured, that they’ve made a classic, that they’re icons in the making? If they’re so dead set on telling us everything, why don’t they go out and buy their own albums? (Edit: Some of them do that already, don’t they?)
It’s as if so many want all the accolades of their predecessors but don’t want to put in any of the time or work for it.
Ciara’s been dropping brick after brick for months now, and it’s funny to me how it has yet to dawn on Ciara or any of her handlers what the problem is.
When she made her way onto the scene a few years ago, she was different. Yes, she reminded people of Janet and Aaliyah. Indeed she did have the same blond extensions as Beyonce and those that sought to match her success at the time. But her music had virginal quality to it, and while she didn’t appear as polished as her peers, that actually aided her.
She looked like someone who didn’t know exactly who she was yet, but she loved performing and put her all into it. The ‘Crunk n B’ title was an obvious gimmick, but it worked because no one else was doing it at the time.
Now look at her. What has she done to her face? Don’t worry, I figured out what’s different about her chest. The face, however, is still a mystery to me. Her face has a “freshened up” quality to it now. Something you would find in a 40-year-old woman.
She looks like her name should be Cruella De Crunk.
She comes across as someone who doesn't know what they want to be. You can as much by her new music, which has been all over the place.
If I were responsible for her, I would have told her to stick with the formula that worked. Remember when artists knew better and did just that?
Had Ciara let her natural progression into a sex symbol happen naturally she might not be in the predicament she’s in now: One flop away from total irrelevance.
I actually liked “Go Girl,” but I can see why it failed. Her image is way too contrived to come across as believable. Not to mention she made herself look silly appearing naked in VIBE then accusing them of digitally altering her pictures to make them look more suggestive. Does evidence of a thong make a topless spread appear classier?
Cici reminds me of that girl that went above and beyond to try to fit in at school. Those types are usually the ones everyone ends up laughing at. I would laugh along, too, if she and one of her producers would take themselves less seriously. Polow says he and Ciara are like Timbaland and Aaliyah.
If you’re old enough to remember all Aaliyah did in the 90s, you’re either laughing or sighing.
Have ya’ll listened to “Never Ever?” That’s Ciara’s third first single produced by Polow. It sounds like “Love In This Playpen.”
"And one thing people do say about when I work with Ciara is that I make her sound better than ever," he continued. "I make her sound like a vocalist versus the other stuff she may do that's more performance, where she can get on the dance floor. It's kind of the same thing with Aaliyah. She may not have been the best singer, but her voice was so unique and her sound — she had her own lane, and I think Ciara is like that same thing."
I get what he's trying to say, but no all the same. OK, so Aaliyah wasn’t exactly a songbird on every occasion. I saw her in concert, so I know every once in a while she may have sung like a bullfrog was kicking in the back of her throat. But, Polow Da Don is a producer for Ciara. On Aaliyah’s worst day, Ciara still makes her look like Whitney at her prime.
Beyond the obvious vocal disparities, this is all yet another example of artists being way too self-congratulatory.
I’m tempted to lead a séance to try and get the spirit of Aaliyah to curse Polow Da Don out and give Ciara some advice on genuine artistic growth.
Listen. Im guessing you some pressed queen that aint had no dick in a minute and is fiening but keep Janets name out your mouth mothafucka. Wack ass blog.
I would normally ignore these sort of comments, but since I need to keep the posts coming, I might as well entertain this.
I say this respectfully: Get a life in 2009. I know what it's like to be an eager fan, but seriously, if the celebrity you're stanning for doesn't claim you as a dependent on their taxes, they probably could give two shits about you.
They don't know you're alive, and even if your existence were brought to their attention, they're not hooking you up for defending them on the internet to someone they don't care about either.
Repeat after me, Dioni: "I, Dioni, super stan of Janet Jackson, will stop acting as if Janet Jackson nursed me at birth."
If you're stanning for Janet Jackson in 2009, chances are you remember buying cassette tapes. And if you're old enough to remember that then there's no way in hell I'm taking you seriously simply because I know you're too old to care so much.
Besides if you're going to get e-gully with someone via font, be better at it. A Janet Jackson stan trying to emasculate me doesn't hurt my feelings. No, it makes my dick laugh.
Think of something else to say. I don't know, tell me the next time they play "Feedback" in the club (ha), may I get kicked in the head. Whatever. You get what I'm saying. Or maybe learn to take a joke. Whatever's clever, homie.
Now go forth and have a Happy New Year, Jermaine Dupri and/or Randy Jackson.
It's a shame that Aubrey's career is officially on death watch now. As of yesterday, this fun animation was brought into my life, and naturally, I've fallen in love. I have a special affinity for people who can drop it. I myself have been known to get low on occasion. I believe my favorite moment doing so was at an ATM station in the Village somewhere around 3 in the morning. I gave it to the ATM machine and the random people walking by watching me seem to enjoy it as well. To be honest, it wasn't even my best, but it doesn't matter. It was so much fun. Ahh, the good ole days with the Queen to Be.
I figured somehow, someway, Puff Puff Diddy and MTV would find some way to salvage Danity Kane or at the very least, think of a clever way to milk another season out of all five girls. Apparently that's not going to happen. Aubrey is about to do Playboy, which means the next step for her is trying to land another reality show that likely won't be anywhere near as entertaining as Making The Band.
That is, unless she does plenty of dancing like that. That I can get with. In fact, I'd love to find her at a club. I've never danced with a white girl that can get low like that and stay there for a good second. I'm an equal opportunity twirker. That seems like something Barack Obama would appreciate, right?
I was talking to my friend, Brittany, and she feels after a certain age you should nix sweeping in public. I can understand that point-of-view, but I'm down for doing it as long as I physically can. I haven't really been dancing like I used to. I was beginning to think I had lost it. Thankfully, I caught up with an old friend who was visiting for Christmas. She and I danced a lot, and I was back to using the rail as some sort of pole. I still have it. I only need to work on preserving it. It would probably be in my best interest: You never know where this recession will lead you.
Perhaps that's why Aubrey's doing Playboy. Ha, who am I kidding. She's an attention whore and a freak. She would likely do it even if she already had millions in the bank. Too bad she didn't have a real friend. She was such a cute girl when the group originally formed. Now she looks like she's in an abusive relationship with coke and Grey Goose.
Here's to hoping whatever she ends up doing, she gets her face and body back together. If she were to get all of that together and still drop it like that, I'm sure she can squeeze another 60 seconds out of her fifteen minutes of fame and get a show. She should bring D. Woods along if she does. Oh and this woman:
I don't know who she is, but she is a TV star in the making. Look at her: She's showing those boys no love. I'd watch her. Maybe they can get that Asian chick from Soul Train, too. And if the show gets good ratings, maybe I'll show up for an episode. Must see TV, ya'll!
You know, to tell you the truth, I don't know anything about Ryan Leslie. I know he's responsible for bringing Cassie to music -- that fun fact alone makes me not want to expand my knowledge about him. Anyone who listens to Cassie sing and thinks she belongs in the music industry as an actual singer is either a sadist or just really cruel. Or you know, deaf or something.
Then again, if you take one look at this video, you can imagine why a girl like Cassie would be able to wrangle a record deal and hit song out of him. Homie looks like MC Urkel. If you're wondering, that's pronounced Ur-kel. I'll give him Stephan Urkel before straight Steve Urkel. See, I'm definitely nicer in 2009.
Anyway, someone sent this video to me (good looking, Jason), and I would be wrong if I didn't share it with you all. I don't know why, but I actually feel pretty guilty about making jokes about him. But c'mon nah, he is really serious about rhyming in this video, ain't he?
If you ever meet a 'good kid' that wants to rap, don't show him this video. It will have becoming a Blood in about a week.
I don't know where to begin. Is that what marriage does to you or is this simply a case of when not giving a fuck goes wrong?
Wait, let's start off on a positive different note: At least she's not wearing a lace front. I think that was the point of her roots making such a grand appearance, so I think it's appropriate that we acknowledge they're present.
Hi, Beyonce's roots. Good to see you. It's been a while. Were you humming "Breathe Again" in this picture?
There. That's that.
I remember Beyonce mentioning something about her hair being natural. That's great. Go you. Fight the perm. Where's the comb, though, homie? Did you just wake up? Are were you and Jay doing newlywed things on the car ride there? What's the problem?
Alright, moving on and moving down, there's the thing about Beyonce's choice of clothes. I'm not a fashion critic so I'm not about to pretend that I'm Andre Leon Tally. Having said that, what's good with the old lady wear? She looks like she ought to be singing background for The Gap Band? That or a 90s era Vanessa Williams after a fight.
I'm not understanding. You're Beyonce, and thus, you should be extra fly. Especially when you just put out a song talking about how hot you are.
This is not the best way to kick off the new year. Maybe she thought, I don't know, it's not my movie premiere. I understand, but if didn't you want to go why didn't you stay your ass at home?
I bet Rihanna is looking at that picture of Beyonce and singing to herself, "Ego so big, you must admit, I got every reason to feel like I'm that bitch."
Music provides the greatest escape for me. My mood can usually be altered depending on the song. Yesterday - or maybe the day before that...everything this week is somewhat of a blur - I put my iPod on shuffle and hoped for the best. I realized years ago that I have a knack for finding the right song to capture exactly how I'm feeling at any given moment. First song to play on shuffle was a good one: "Didn't Cha Know."
For a minute, I felt a little different. I can't remember many of the 298 songs that followed. I know "Everyday It Rains" came on, and I know I danced along to a couple more, but nothing sticks out. And then song 299 came on and I've been playing it ever since. It's something I definitely needed to hear.
You'll have to forgive me for not being the best blogger over the last few weeks. I haven't had as much creativity running through me as I would like. I've either had to dedicate myself to other tasks or I just couldn't come up with anything to say. I feel really drained. This entry is not meant to serve as my personal pity party, but I figure if I can't think of anything in particular to muse on, I might as well rant on what's real.
I had every intention of kicking 2009 off with a lot of optimism. New things are in store for me, but my excitement simply isn't there. I guess in a way, I feel defeated, and thus tired.
Over the last year-and-a-half I've gotten plenty of emails from different readers telling me my words have either helped them past the time or aid them in taking their minds off of something in their lives they needed a distraction from. I love when people tell me that because it gives me the incentive to keep writing. I have to say, though, I wish I had given myself my own distraction.
I don't know what it is about me that's intent on being my own worst enemy sometimes, but I am far too hard on myself. I've always been someone with big dreams, and I've worked really hard and sacrificed to get myself to the level I've always aspired to be on. And with a lot of disappointment comes a time to reflect on what you should've done, or what you still need to do and sometimes it can all be too overwhelming. Everything seems so much more difficult than it has to be.
Or maybe it doesn't. The other day I saw one of my friends put up a status saying they believed again. Yesterday I sent a text asking what got them back to that point and they told me they reflected on happier times and recalled a happier version of themselves. She said she made a vow to not criticize herself.
That's exactly my problem: I'm way too critical sometimes, and I criticize no one harsher than I do myself. If I would only stop doing that I would leave myself room to reflect on the things that I have done, be proud of that and look forward to all the things I can still do. Like the homie or anyone who knows better. And someone else brought something to my attention: You're supposed to enjoy your 20s. Everything isn't going to happen exactly how you want it to, but that doesn't mean you should hold off your happiness until you get it.
These are all things I know, but at the same time, they're ideals I've yet to fully embrace. And that's probably why I'm still stuck on Amel Larrieux. Everything rests on me. I'm the only one that can snap myself back. It's that simple...or at least, should be.
So I won't sound like a complete dreary Sade ballad, I did read this quote that put things in perspective. "When you feel like giving up, remember why you held on for so long in the first place."
Hopefully I can prop myself up by Friday. Things could always be worse. I could be George Bush's new neighbor/target, Janet Jackson's last album, or Sheree Whitfield's rationale for alimony.
Far be it from me to tell someone when to let go of someone they're likely not to have to themselves, but I can say if you're going to cling to hope, it may not be in your best interest to reveal some obvious unresolved feelings at the club over a microphone.
What's that line she usually shouts the loudest when performing "Let It Go?" "If he ain't gonna love you/the way he should/then let it go?"
Yeah, maybe. Or not. Whatever. Like I said, I'm in no position to talk about anyone in that area. Still, Keyshia has a lot going for her. She doesn't look like Big Red's daughter anymore, she has two platinum albums under her belt, and she's managed to go gold with her third album already without the benefit of a hit single. Oh and her show is making people across the nation go, "Damn. I thought I had it bad." Do you know what kind of numbers that sentiment probably pulls in for a show? It must be high because every episode I turn on features a new relative being taken in and a new condo purchased.
Keyshia ought to be happy...in public anyway. You can tell Old Jeezy really broke her heart by acting as if their thing was never that heavy. I know what that's like. You tend to become a little obsessed about it.
So much you start going into random tangents about how you're single in front of strangers.
That's OK, Keyshia. You're gonna be alright. You only have to remember this: "If he ain't gonna love you, the way he should, then let it go...or at least sob in private." That and you have to realize after one too many drinks microphones are your mortal enemy.
P.S. I know some of ya'll are watching this, smiling to yourselves thinking, "YES! I'm about to get a sad Keyshia back!" Quit that.
Ren and Stimpy decided to throw out a little video to remind Making the Band fans why this season will likely suck in comparison previous ones.
Now I'm not one to shun Black love, but damn I wish both of them belong to some other race. OK, so maybe they're not that bad but they aren't that good either. One of the biggest drags of last season was watching these two cornballs gush over each other week after week. That time could've been better spent watching Aubrey get cursed out for asking when she's going to be paid by Bad Boy or finding out why Willie is really Diddy Puff's favorite member of Day 26.
Or, they could've shown the members of Danity Kane staring at a wall for five minutes. That would have provided much more entertainment to me than watching these two act like this. This video makes me worry about the future of this show. I don't find Day 26 particularly interesting, and if the two more intriguing members of Danity Kane are out of the group then what are we left with? The online adventures of Lilo & Stitch?
Am I the only one who finds himself bombarded with these ASPCA commercials on a Saturday afternoon and left wondering what the hell is wrong with them and Sarah McLachlan? Don't get me wrong, I am not an animal hater. In fact, I have swerved plenty a time on the road in order to avoid hitting Rocky, Bambi, Roger, Heathcliff, and Benji. And not just because I didn't want to have to wipe blood off anyone's car. No, I actually cared about the animals.
But then I see one of these commercials and I'm creeped the hell out. Isn't it a bit odd to use a song like "Silent Night" to make a case for animal cruelty? The song is about the birth of infant Jesus and they're using it incite guilt over strey dogs and cats. Doesn't that seem a bit extra? It reminds me of the time PETA dared to compare animal cruelty to slavery. Not to knock anyone's personal cause or anything but there are actual humans still suffering, aren't they?
That being said, shouldn't they go with a different song? I suppose the theme song to Scooby Doo, "Circle of Life," or "Under The Sea" would be anti-climatic, but c'mon nah, "Silent Night, holy night, all is come, all is bright...round young poochie, kitten, and mice?" There has to be something else out there.
Am I making any sense or you hoping I get bit by a dog later in the day?
This is about as close to a genuine scream as I’m going to get. It would be really nice if I could turn everyone off. Not even for long. Just enough time for me to think in silence. Actually, I don’t want to think so let’s change that. Hmm, how about simply be in silence? Does that sound better? Yeah, much.
I'm sure you can tell by now that I'm not in the best mood, so how about you just enjoy the video for now? Please enjoy it -- it took me a long time to find a copy I can actually embed. Those Jackson stans on YouTube have blocked every attempt to embed it anywhere else. I have no idea why it's that serious to them to watch "Scream" on YouTube only. I wish Randy, Jermaine, and 'nem knew it's never that deep.
Whatever, I'll be back after I come from the doctor. Maybe.
I feel bad for Teairra Mari. It didn't take long for her to go from 'Princess of the Roc' to Friend of Family Dollar after being booted from her label. Though I felt her initial image was a bit much considering her age, I think a lot fault belongs to her label. I still want to know what genius thought it would be a great idea to market a teenager in a way that would alienate both teens and adults. I'm guessing a genius that probably might net better results at a call center than a record label.
Maybe I was a little too hard on the girl at the time, but I didn't want her to flop. I just wanted her to wait until she was 18 before she started cursing me out and supplying millions of girls with daddy issues an excuse to do hoe shit. Is that too much to ask? Fortunately, T-Error is getting another chance at stardom, and since this is a new year I'm going to kick it off with a wee bit of optimism.
The good news is Teairra Mari has managed to score another major label deal. Even more good news for her is that her video is being directed by someone who didn't get their start in porn. And get this, I think the song is nice. Go Terro go.
Now the not so good news. Terror is looking a lot like Princess Jasmine in this clip. Unless Aladdin shows up in the full video, I'm not sure if this is the best way to reintroduce her to the world. Also, the reject from Pretty Ricky is on the song. I personally want to grab a can of RAID whenever I see or hear anyone from that group, but I imagine there are still people out there that like him?
Look at Terror in that clip, ya'll. She looks so happy to be back. Talking about she no longer has any in-hib-bit-shuns. She must really like the h in that word because she made sure that it was heard. Does she have a chance at a comeback? I feel like she could if she found a better single, hired a stylist, locked Rihanna in a closet, and made sure Ciara didn't steal whatever good idea she thinks of. Or do I need to put the Tylenol PM down and face reality?
I had planned on doing a bunch of year's end themed blog entries to wrap up 2008, but I lost my train of thought the second I woke up sick Tuesday morning. I'm not entirely sure of what I have. I told my mom my symptoms -- she said it's either bronchitis or the flu. Mind you, my mom tends to be a little dramatic. She may be right in her diagnosis, though I could stub me toe and she might suggest I have my leg amputated just in case.
Whatever is wrong with me got worse this morning. My throat feels like it's been in a knife fight. I bet if I hit the studio and re-recorded "No One" I'd give Alicia Keys a run for her money. Hopefully, I'll get to catch up with the posts later today or at least by the weekend. If not, please refrain from cursing me out. I've already been threatened once, but hey, there's only so much writing one can do when sitting up is considered a work up.
I'm inclined to think someone who reads this blog put a root on me. Now I don't want to assume it was any stan faction in particular, but Chris Brown fans probably carry a lot of germs and God only knows what Rihanna brought with her from Barbados.
I keed, I keed. Me talking shit is probably what got me sick now. That and not taking a flu shot. I think I'm going to invest in one of those in 2009. Alright, I'm about to go medicine and chicken noodle soup shopping. Hopefully the pain in my throat will subside (I'm considering cutting off my neck at this very moment) and I'll be back to blogging regularly in no time.
Either they're really forward thinking with their fashion or they're auditioning for the gay mafia. The latter would explain why Kanye comes across as an annoying queen at times. So is Kanye just ahead of his time, am I a victim of close minded stereotyping, or does he need a hug? I'm thinking there's a little truth in each.
I'm passing on dropping $600 for these, but the hood won't. Oh and while I have your attention, check out this great essay on Kanye the homie Clove wrote for The Village Voice.
