Keri Hilson and Raheem Devaughn recently released new music videos for their songs "The Way You Love Me" and "She's Single" both of which I've recently watched after my timeline was abuzz from people talking about both videos. If you haven't seen either of the videos, I've embedded them below.
Now I liked both of the videos, but I was kinda upset at the female commentary I saw for the video by Ms. Keri bay-be (I just like saying that). It seems that most of the discussion regarding Keri's video cast her in a negative light and call her "whorish." But Raheem's video, although explicit and maybe even borderline HBO, Cinemax, or Showtime late night softcore porn was met with rave reviews. I just wanna get my two cents out...Why is it that America seems to criticize a woman when she displays her sexual prowess and is celebrating getting what we refer to in New Orleans as "good joog?" Ladies, please don't be coy and act like you don't have a "special outfit" for that special guy and never did anything out of character, for him. Maybe not a video or a picture cause that's prolly whorish in your opinion also, but I'm talking a "for his eyes only" show. Oh, you haven't? Well that's why your basic ass is still single and can't keep a man, lol. But on the real, Raheem can blatantly talk about taking another man's woman and romancing her for the night, making her act as tho she's single for the night and that's okay?
Why?
Because he ate her out and they used protection?
I'm curious as to why this is anybody care to enlighten me?
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
My Creole Mistress
Let me tell you a tale, whose details will leave you wetter than the cast of Finding Nemo;
it’s a true to life saga about my love affair with this South Louisiana Creole.
There was nothing epic in the way we met, just a plain old January Monday;
the Super Bowl was the day before, the Saints weren’t there, see, just another day.
I grew up with her like the girl next door and never knew she’d one day own my heart;
but it was the strange phenomenon of her culture that was working Voodoo from the start.
Now if you’ve ever met one of these Creole queens, you know not to ever call them a mutt;
but how else do you describe a dash of this and that with a splash of such and such?
Yeah, she was one of them varieties that you’d have to leave the country to find suitable competition for;
she handled her business and partied all night, her last call if she had one, was sometime around four.
The language she spoke was an interesting dialect, some from other nations, others homegrown;
but the swagger she carried, the style she had, they were non-mistakably her own.
I left her some time ago with no regrets, feeling like her trouble would lead to bad days;
it took me some time but I’m wiser now, took for me to almost lose her to see the error of my ways.
She went in that ward on August 29th and I didn’t get the chance to see her until November;
I almost cried when I saw what hit her, one the saddest days I’ll ever remember.
I thought I did it the right way, cause it seemed she’d never come back to be how I knew her;
you shoulda seen the fight in this girl, I doubt anything in the world would ever subdue her.
She came to me in a dream, stripped, bald, barren, battered, and bruised;
she didn’t want me to look at her but I couldn’t stop staring at her awkward new tattoos.
Some ugly little things with Xs and Os, acronyms, numbers, words, and such;
it was like some other language, to me the shit was all Dutch.
It was in this dream that she spoke to me and said “I’m proud of everything you’ve done so far;
take this time to get yourself together, I’m right in your heart, so I’ll be wherever you are.
You left me for her, and I don’t care, she’ll never do to or for you all of the wondrous things I can;
so take what she offers, learn from her, because even when you left you never stopped being my man.
And I tried to make it work, but the one I was with had common ways I’ve long despised;
funny what I needed the most was that same girl from way back who was commonly specialized.
It was the money she flashed, the promises she made, that had me runnin to her like a groupie;
in the end she cheated herself, because she didn’t see the potential of letting me do “me.”
My love didn’t shelter my opinion or ask me to conform because she among the most exotic in the states; even if I gave you her cookbook, I doubt you’d be able to make the same plates.
You see she makes groceries, while you merely go to the store to buy,
She greets with “heeeey baby,” and you only say “hi.”
She got pahrans and nan-nans, maw-maws, paw-paws, and God-siblings,
You got a t-jones and grandparents, nothing novel in the way that rings.
She wants to know who you are, while what you are is what makes you tick,
And that’s when I decided to seek her aid cause you truly make me sick.
Houston you’ll forever have a piece of me cause I made sure during our time together to get deep inside of you;
but happiness for me is what I’ve always known, you’ll forever be a long-distance boo.
The last time I saw her ended much in the same way that it normally does, with her wearing the sheets as a dress;
she picked up her head and was pretty as ever despite her hair looking a mess.
“So you going back to that girl again, after another wild romp, I’m still just the weekend fuck;”
I wanted to keep my intentions a surprise cause wit her forever aint long enough.
I walked to where she lay, pulled her close to me, and started the beginning of the rest of my life;
“I’m tired of coming home to my Creole mistress, what say I make you my Creole wife?
New Orleans, my love, I’m sorry I left you, all that remains on my end is a few loose ends to tie;
some things I gotta wrap up and finish out there before I can tell her goodbye.
I’m no longer doing what’s expected of me, I’m only interested in what I think I should;”
and as I closed the door behind me I whispered “next time I come home, it’ll be for good.”
it’s a true to life saga about my love affair with this South Louisiana Creole.
There was nothing epic in the way we met, just a plain old January Monday;
the Super Bowl was the day before, the Saints weren’t there, see, just another day.
I grew up with her like the girl next door and never knew she’d one day own my heart;
but it was the strange phenomenon of her culture that was working Voodoo from the start.
Now if you’ve ever met one of these Creole queens, you know not to ever call them a mutt;
but how else do you describe a dash of this and that with a splash of such and such?
Yeah, she was one of them varieties that you’d have to leave the country to find suitable competition for;
she handled her business and partied all night, her last call if she had one, was sometime around four.
The language she spoke was an interesting dialect, some from other nations, others homegrown;
but the swagger she carried, the style she had, they were non-mistakably her own.
I left her some time ago with no regrets, feeling like her trouble would lead to bad days;
it took me some time but I’m wiser now, took for me to almost lose her to see the error of my ways.
She went in that ward on August 29th and I didn’t get the chance to see her until November;
I almost cried when I saw what hit her, one the saddest days I’ll ever remember.
I thought I did it the right way, cause it seemed she’d never come back to be how I knew her;
you shoulda seen the fight in this girl, I doubt anything in the world would ever subdue her.
She came to me in a dream, stripped, bald, barren, battered, and bruised;
she didn’t want me to look at her but I couldn’t stop staring at her awkward new tattoos.
Some ugly little things with Xs and Os, acronyms, numbers, words, and such;
it was like some other language, to me the shit was all Dutch.
It was in this dream that she spoke to me and said “I’m proud of everything you’ve done so far;
take this time to get yourself together, I’m right in your heart, so I’ll be wherever you are.
You left me for her, and I don’t care, she’ll never do to or for you all of the wondrous things I can;
so take what she offers, learn from her, because even when you left you never stopped being my man.
And I tried to make it work, but the one I was with had common ways I’ve long despised;
funny what I needed the most was that same girl from way back who was commonly specialized.
It was the money she flashed, the promises she made, that had me runnin to her like a groupie;
in the end she cheated herself, because she didn’t see the potential of letting me do “me.”
My love didn’t shelter my opinion or ask me to conform because she among the most exotic in the states; even if I gave you her cookbook, I doubt you’d be able to make the same plates.
You see she makes groceries, while you merely go to the store to buy,
She greets with “heeeey baby,” and you only say “hi.”
She got pahrans and nan-nans, maw-maws, paw-paws, and God-siblings,
You got a t-jones and grandparents, nothing novel in the way that rings.
She wants to know who you are, while what you are is what makes you tick,
And that’s when I decided to seek her aid cause you truly make me sick.
Houston you’ll forever have a piece of me cause I made sure during our time together to get deep inside of you;
but happiness for me is what I’ve always known, you’ll forever be a long-distance boo.
The last time I saw her ended much in the same way that it normally does, with her wearing the sheets as a dress;
she picked up her head and was pretty as ever despite her hair looking a mess.
“So you going back to that girl again, after another wild romp, I’m still just the weekend fuck;”
I wanted to keep my intentions a surprise cause wit her forever aint long enough.
I walked to where she lay, pulled her close to me, and started the beginning of the rest of my life;
“I’m tired of coming home to my Creole mistress, what say I make you my Creole wife?
New Orleans, my love, I’m sorry I left you, all that remains on my end is a few loose ends to tie;
some things I gotta wrap up and finish out there before I can tell her goodbye.
I’m no longer doing what’s expected of me, I’m only interested in what I think I should;”
and as I closed the door behind me I whispered “next time I come home, it’ll be for good.”
Monday, November 15, 2010
We'll Talk...
Well thanks to a good friend of mine, I've gotten back into writing, I've had a piece in mind I've been toying with lately, so I think I'll just sit here and let it go. First lemme give u a background on it tho. Lately people have been asking me why I'm single, and my response is because I cant find the right girl. And others have asked me what to do to get my attention for their homegirl (yeah right) but I think this just about sums it up.
We'll Talk...
Gimme that pussy and we'll talk, sweetheart I'm sorry for coming off so abrupt,
but i'm a product of the US's free market economy, and big decisions I don't rush.
Yeah society has corrupted me into always thinking i have the right to try before i buy,
how many people can honestly say that they bought a car without a test drive?
So dont hem me up on that bullshit that I want the milk without buying the cow,
cause if you got a cow with some spoiled ass milk, it aint no use to you anyhow.
You see I want the house, car, wife, kids, complete with white picket fence,
but if you can't keep me happy, then our relationship makes no sense.
I'll be honest for a second and tell you that nymphs got nothing on me,
I need it and want it everyday of the week, and you gotta put it down when called on, you see.
Monogamy is not my strong suit, and i usually step out because sex aint like i need,
my ideal woman is highly respected in society, and a pornstar, just for me.
So if you're trying to catch my attention, the bedroom is prolly the best place to start,
cause I'd hate to give you the starring role and find you lack the talent for the part.
Gimmie that pussy and we'll talk, about where we wanna go in life,
where we see ourselves in 5 years, and when I'll make you my wife.
Maybe it's the mileage ive gathered over the years that causes me to feel this way,
but I need to know what Im getting into and it about what you do not what you say.
Im not opposed to the dates and courting, but we wont get to monogamy without sex,
Im old enough to be set in my ways and have no problem going on to the next.
Somebody will catch me one day and through the rest of our lives we'll walk,
but I guarantee she'll have complied when I said, "gimmie that pussy and we'll talk"
We'll Talk...
Gimme that pussy and we'll talk, sweetheart I'm sorry for coming off so abrupt,
but i'm a product of the US's free market economy, and big decisions I don't rush.
Yeah society has corrupted me into always thinking i have the right to try before i buy,
how many people can honestly say that they bought a car without a test drive?
So dont hem me up on that bullshit that I want the milk without buying the cow,
cause if you got a cow with some spoiled ass milk, it aint no use to you anyhow.
You see I want the house, car, wife, kids, complete with white picket fence,
but if you can't keep me happy, then our relationship makes no sense.
I'll be honest for a second and tell you that nymphs got nothing on me,
I need it and want it everyday of the week, and you gotta put it down when called on, you see.
Monogamy is not my strong suit, and i usually step out because sex aint like i need,
my ideal woman is highly respected in society, and a pornstar, just for me.
So if you're trying to catch my attention, the bedroom is prolly the best place to start,
cause I'd hate to give you the starring role and find you lack the talent for the part.
Gimmie that pussy and we'll talk, about where we wanna go in life,
where we see ourselves in 5 years, and when I'll make you my wife.
Maybe it's the mileage ive gathered over the years that causes me to feel this way,
but I need to know what Im getting into and it about what you do not what you say.
Im not opposed to the dates and courting, but we wont get to monogamy without sex,
Im old enough to be set in my ways and have no problem going on to the next.
Somebody will catch me one day and through the rest of our lives we'll walk,
but I guarantee she'll have complied when I said, "gimmie that pussy and we'll talk"
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Text Messages
The following is something a friend and I were working on chronicling the dating game and the chase from the man and the woman's perspective, enjoy, and as always feedback is appreciated
She...
Sits at her desk unable to focus
His text is on her screen and she immediately notices
Grabbing the phone but putting the response on delay
Can’t seem desperate; oh the games we play
Choosing her words carefully when she finally responds
Doesn’t want to come across as needy or too strong
So an hour for her response he waits
She presses send then begins to contemplate
He...
Pride won't allow a man to be considered weak;
It's been a minute since they exchanged numbers and he still can't speak.
Several times he's conquered his prey without hearing a voice;
But he's gotta use tact cause he wants more than getting her moist.
So he opted for simplicity, cause he could always just downplay the text;
"I need you worse than jazmine..." letting her decide what comes next.
Then the regret tripled in his mind after he pressed send;
60 minutes later the phone buzzed away, and this chapter came to begin.
She...
Even though the delay was deliberate
The response made her blush when she read it.
Did he mean Aladdin’s Jasmine?
Filled with desperation and passion?
Or the sweet flower with the elusive scent?
Insinuating that for a night her body he wanted to rent?
Nevertheless his words had moved she
But remain cool she had to be
So vague she kept it with an “awww that’s so sweet
”But who's gonna make the first move definitely not she
He....
As he anxiously awaited, he never expected to be at this place
Should he attack full throttle, or attempt to save face
She never struck him as the type to be schoolgirlishly coy
Maybe she was flattered or maybe she labeled him a little boy
It had never been this hard to let her know what was going on
But then again his convos usually involved stilettos handcuffs and a thong
He dismissed a random text that read "let me suck u dry"
And got back to his target with a response that read simply "*sigh*"
She...
She can’t read his tone through these keystrokes
But it’s an easier way to express emotions than through vocal notes
Afraid to read too much into his texts
Afraid to say more than he expects
She wants to know what “sigh” stands for
She needs to know if he wants something more
She’s been ignoring textual advances of her other suitors
Dismissing them as unworthy because she has become the chooser
And she has chosen he
All eggs in one basket foolishly
So she has to play this one smart
If she wants to be the closest thing to his heart
She types the open ended “what do you want from me?"
Ball’s back in his court “SEND” now let’s wait and see.
He...
His mind in circles as he repeated the question out loud,
and began pacing back in forth to erase his mind's cloud.
He couldn’t put in words the response she needed to hear
because when it came down to it, they shared the same fear.
Objects in the heart are sometimes closer than they appear
blinked in his mind in neon, like in a review mirror.
This road was the same, always smooth in the onset
but they ended one less than who began the trip.
He took a chance and let his finger go
typed far more than intended but she just had to know
"Hell, I want everything that is open to be took,
even some of the things that’s locked away because u got shook
by the guy from the past who I remind you of and hope I wouldn't be
I gotta be everything you need, do you trust me?"
She...
Her phone slides off of her fingertips onto the floor
His words had shaken her to her soul’s core
In asking the question, she had expected an evasive answer
Instead his response required her to face her fears like cancer
Re-reading his text at least 100 times
Carefully dissecting each word and reading in between the lines.
Drafting and re-drafting is what had taken her so long
24 hours it took her to finally respond
Not that she had slept a wink all night
But thinking of an answer concise enough to text type
Finally her words begin to flow
Instead of censoring herself; she let it all go:
“Been down this road with him, him, and him
Uncertain about going this route again
Giving you all that is there for the taking
Makes me susceptible to be broken if you’re faking
Trust is to be earned and not given
Something I’ve learned in this life I’m living
The things you want unlocked were once used against me
Now these secrets are kept under lock and key
Can you promise you’re not like the ones before?
And whatever is to come won’t send you out the door
Exactly what I need I’m not truly sure
But we can work up to that if your intentions are pure
Tell me that in us you’re ready to invest
These are my demands and I’ll accept nothing less.”
It was like the last word of a prayer...Amen
At 3am is when she finally pressed send.
He...
Awaken from his slumber by a jab to the chest,
"Tell that heaux you laid up, I'm sick of this mess!!!"
"Who could this be at 3 am?
Fuckin up my sleep pissing off my lil friend"
He told her “don't worry”; thinking “he'll cuss her out later”
But she insisted on inviting herself over so she could return the favor
Now who was disturbing their sleep with apparent bullshit
He looked at his phone and came face to face with the guilty culprit.
After reading the text he sent back "I’ll respond when the sun's up"
Lawd why SHE have to complicate his quest for butt?
She...
The buzzing of the phone jolts her awake
She realizes it’s a call not a text message exchange
She answers the phone expecting it to be HE
The first time she’d hear his voice since the initial meet
To her surprise it’s another familiar voice on her line
Pleading on the other end for some of her time
She politely declined telling him she was tired
When in truth she was starting a new chapter so old workers had to be fired.
She hung up the call and noticed she had missed a text.
Immediately opened it to see what HE had responded
“I’ll respond when the sun’s up” struck her as odd
Reality hit and her head began to nod
He was up but in more ways than one
Probably a little late night action or laid up with someone
She thought, “Be what I need
Nigga please
If you were you’d refrain from being between someone’s knees
I’m only guessing even still I’ll do you before you do me.
If I’m wrong that’s a chance I’m willing to take
This is the cushion prepared for my heart to deter any breaks”
Racking her brain to see what’s to come next
She hits redial; he picks up “If you still want to come over the answer’s yes.”
He...
Struggling to save face from his embarrassing night,
He thinks "I just want her gone, no fuss, no fight.
"Tapping his latest conquest on her tattooed shoulder,
The words he spoke just fell like a boulder.
"Why are we fooling ourselves, it’s nothing but sex,
True, you are a pretty face, but I'm on to the next.
If you are mature you'd say thanx for the memories and quietly leave,
take your stuff from hiding and empty that trashcan of weave.
You see, I found something that's better than you,
I’m in search of wifey and you're only a boo.
"Surprisingly she complied but that was the only good thing,
because as soon as boo pulled off, he gave HER a ring.
Thinking she'd be waiting, he got the shock of the day,
"I’m unable to come to the phone, leave one and have a blessed day."
She...
Sits at her desk unable to focus
His text is on her screen and she immediately notices
Grabbing the phone but putting the response on delay
Can’t seem desperate; oh the games we play
Choosing her words carefully when she finally responds
Doesn’t want to come across as needy or too strong
So an hour for her response he waits
She presses send then begins to contemplate
He...
Pride won't allow a man to be considered weak;
It's been a minute since they exchanged numbers and he still can't speak.
Several times he's conquered his prey without hearing a voice;
But he's gotta use tact cause he wants more than getting her moist.
So he opted for simplicity, cause he could always just downplay the text;
"I need you worse than jazmine..." letting her decide what comes next.
Then the regret tripled in his mind after he pressed send;
60 minutes later the phone buzzed away, and this chapter came to begin.
She...
Even though the delay was deliberate
The response made her blush when she read it.
Did he mean Aladdin’s Jasmine?
Filled with desperation and passion?
Or the sweet flower with the elusive scent?
Insinuating that for a night her body he wanted to rent?
Nevertheless his words had moved she
But remain cool she had to be
So vague she kept it with an “awww that’s so sweet
”But who's gonna make the first move definitely not she
He....
As he anxiously awaited, he never expected to be at this place
Should he attack full throttle, or attempt to save face
She never struck him as the type to be schoolgirlishly coy
Maybe she was flattered or maybe she labeled him a little boy
It had never been this hard to let her know what was going on
But then again his convos usually involved stilettos handcuffs and a thong
He dismissed a random text that read "let me suck u dry"
And got back to his target with a response that read simply "*sigh*"
She...
She can’t read his tone through these keystrokes
But it’s an easier way to express emotions than through vocal notes
Afraid to read too much into his texts
Afraid to say more than he expects
She wants to know what “sigh” stands for
She needs to know if he wants something more
She’s been ignoring textual advances of her other suitors
Dismissing them as unworthy because she has become the chooser
And she has chosen he
All eggs in one basket foolishly
So she has to play this one smart
If she wants to be the closest thing to his heart
She types the open ended “what do you want from me?"
Ball’s back in his court “SEND” now let’s wait and see.
He...
His mind in circles as he repeated the question out loud,
and began pacing back in forth to erase his mind's cloud.
He couldn’t put in words the response she needed to hear
because when it came down to it, they shared the same fear.
Objects in the heart are sometimes closer than they appear
blinked in his mind in neon, like in a review mirror.
This road was the same, always smooth in the onset
but they ended one less than who began the trip.
He took a chance and let his finger go
typed far more than intended but she just had to know
"Hell, I want everything that is open to be took,
even some of the things that’s locked away because u got shook
by the guy from the past who I remind you of and hope I wouldn't be
I gotta be everything you need, do you trust me?"
She...
Her phone slides off of her fingertips onto the floor
His words had shaken her to her soul’s core
In asking the question, she had expected an evasive answer
Instead his response required her to face her fears like cancer
Re-reading his text at least 100 times
Carefully dissecting each word and reading in between the lines.
Drafting and re-drafting is what had taken her so long
24 hours it took her to finally respond
Not that she had slept a wink all night
But thinking of an answer concise enough to text type
Finally her words begin to flow
Instead of censoring herself; she let it all go:
“Been down this road with him, him, and him
Uncertain about going this route again
Giving you all that is there for the taking
Makes me susceptible to be broken if you’re faking
Trust is to be earned and not given
Something I’ve learned in this life I’m living
The things you want unlocked were once used against me
Now these secrets are kept under lock and key
Can you promise you’re not like the ones before?
And whatever is to come won’t send you out the door
Exactly what I need I’m not truly sure
But we can work up to that if your intentions are pure
Tell me that in us you’re ready to invest
These are my demands and I’ll accept nothing less.”
It was like the last word of a prayer...Amen
At 3am is when she finally pressed send.
He...
Awaken from his slumber by a jab to the chest,
"Tell that heaux you laid up, I'm sick of this mess!!!"
"Who could this be at 3 am?
Fuckin up my sleep pissing off my lil friend"
He told her “don't worry”; thinking “he'll cuss her out later”
But she insisted on inviting herself over so she could return the favor
Now who was disturbing their sleep with apparent bullshit
He looked at his phone and came face to face with the guilty culprit.
After reading the text he sent back "I’ll respond when the sun's up"
Lawd why SHE have to complicate his quest for butt?
She...
The buzzing of the phone jolts her awake
She realizes it’s a call not a text message exchange
She answers the phone expecting it to be HE
The first time she’d hear his voice since the initial meet
To her surprise it’s another familiar voice on her line
Pleading on the other end for some of her time
She politely declined telling him she was tired
When in truth she was starting a new chapter so old workers had to be fired.
She hung up the call and noticed she had missed a text.
Immediately opened it to see what HE had responded
“I’ll respond when the sun’s up” struck her as odd
Reality hit and her head began to nod
He was up but in more ways than one
Probably a little late night action or laid up with someone
She thought, “Be what I need
Nigga please
If you were you’d refrain from being between someone’s knees
I’m only guessing even still I’ll do you before you do me.
If I’m wrong that’s a chance I’m willing to take
This is the cushion prepared for my heart to deter any breaks”
Racking her brain to see what’s to come next
She hits redial; he picks up “If you still want to come over the answer’s yes.”
He...
Struggling to save face from his embarrassing night,
He thinks "I just want her gone, no fuss, no fight.
"Tapping his latest conquest on her tattooed shoulder,
The words he spoke just fell like a boulder.
"Why are we fooling ourselves, it’s nothing but sex,
True, you are a pretty face, but I'm on to the next.
If you are mature you'd say thanx for the memories and quietly leave,
take your stuff from hiding and empty that trashcan of weave.
You see, I found something that's better than you,
I’m in search of wifey and you're only a boo.
"Surprisingly she complied but that was the only good thing,
because as soon as boo pulled off, he gave HER a ring.
Thinking she'd be waiting, he got the shock of the day,
"I’m unable to come to the phone, leave one and have a blessed day."
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Pussy Payments
Watch this first…
Press play before reading
Pussy…Vagina…Twat…Cooter…Cunt…Furby…Noonie…Kat…Juice Box…all words which have come to describe the greatest creation known to (wo)man, the female genetalia. Every man can testify to the indescribable value associated with pussy but the funny part is that most women undervalue theirs. Meaning that because you have a pussy, no matter how you keep it, SOME MAN will stick his cock into it or SOME WOMAN will lick it depending on your preference. (Yes there is hope for you all) Now, the value associated with pussy differs from person to person in both the giver and the receiver, but chances are you can get anything you need done just for some pussy. But isn’t that prostitution? Hell, dating is prostitution.
Some of you read that last statement like “I can’t believe that he said that,” but that once again proves how retarded the female mind is. On second thought, let me not make that generalization because my homegirls who fall in the category of “dudes with twats” as well as a lot of homosexual women I know don’t think in such a manner. Those of you who know me in real life know that I went to law school because I love to argue and in addition, I love the structure of the legal profession in that one has to prove everything to say. With that being said, even my opinions come with evidence.
Now, my son, Jerry Lavigne Jr. (RIP 1984-Present), a person I went to elementary school with discussed this issue via his YouTube channel in a satirical yet serious manner that is imbedded in the top of this posting, I hope you hit play. In the video, Jerry discusses a similar sentiment held by me and many other men and women, you are going to pay for pussy regardless, so just (wo)man up like Soulja Slim did and admit that you’ll pay for it. Let’s face it, “it aint tricking to a nigga with a few dollars” cause it wont hurt him, but you WILL trick to get pussy. And we all know that the only thing better than good pussy is good NEW pussy.
Back to the ridiculousness of the female mind, which will down play strippers and street walkers because they take cash up front for pussy when in your own personal life you do the same damn thing. Are you still doubting me? Well answer me this ladies, when was the last time you fucked somebody (woman or man), just because you found that person attractive and you were horny? It doesn’t count if you have had sex with that person before, because that initial time or times had prolly been paid for. Aint nothing in life free, and that includes pussy.
I look forward to reading the responses to this post because I anticipate much like the same thing that the responses and comments to Jerry’s video, you all will just prove my point. So you want somebody interested in you to take you out, spend time with you, and basically court you, in exchange for some pussy, right? So the only thing that separates you from the strippers and the heauxs on the street is that they take money up front for pussy where as you gotta sit through boring conversation during a meal, while baby girl gets cash and can eat with whoever whenever she pleases. So just be real and accept the fact that you accept pussy payments, I just hope for your sake you know how much your pussy costs…
Press play before reading
Pussy…Vagina…Twat…Cooter…Cunt…Furby…Noonie…Kat…Juice Box…all words which have come to describe the greatest creation known to (wo)man, the female genetalia. Every man can testify to the indescribable value associated with pussy but the funny part is that most women undervalue theirs. Meaning that because you have a pussy, no matter how you keep it, SOME MAN will stick his cock into it or SOME WOMAN will lick it depending on your preference. (Yes there is hope for you all) Now, the value associated with pussy differs from person to person in both the giver and the receiver, but chances are you can get anything you need done just for some pussy. But isn’t that prostitution? Hell, dating is prostitution.
Some of you read that last statement like “I can’t believe that he said that,” but that once again proves how retarded the female mind is. On second thought, let me not make that generalization because my homegirls who fall in the category of “dudes with twats” as well as a lot of homosexual women I know don’t think in such a manner. Those of you who know me in real life know that I went to law school because I love to argue and in addition, I love the structure of the legal profession in that one has to prove everything to say. With that being said, even my opinions come with evidence.
Now, my son, Jerry Lavigne Jr. (RIP 1984-Present), a person I went to elementary school with discussed this issue via his YouTube channel in a satirical yet serious manner that is imbedded in the top of this posting, I hope you hit play. In the video, Jerry discusses a similar sentiment held by me and many other men and women, you are going to pay for pussy regardless, so just (wo)man up like Soulja Slim did and admit that you’ll pay for it. Let’s face it, “it aint tricking to a nigga with a few dollars” cause it wont hurt him, but you WILL trick to get pussy. And we all know that the only thing better than good pussy is good NEW pussy.
Back to the ridiculousness of the female mind, which will down play strippers and street walkers because they take cash up front for pussy when in your own personal life you do the same damn thing. Are you still doubting me? Well answer me this ladies, when was the last time you fucked somebody (woman or man), just because you found that person attractive and you were horny? It doesn’t count if you have had sex with that person before, because that initial time or times had prolly been paid for. Aint nothing in life free, and that includes pussy.
I look forward to reading the responses to this post because I anticipate much like the same thing that the responses and comments to Jerry’s video, you all will just prove my point. So you want somebody interested in you to take you out, spend time with you, and basically court you, in exchange for some pussy, right? So the only thing that separates you from the strippers and the heauxs on the street is that they take money up front for pussy where as you gotta sit through boring conversation during a meal, while baby girl gets cash and can eat with whoever whenever she pleases. So just be real and accept the fact that you accept pussy payments, I just hope for your sake you know how much your pussy costs…
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Brown Eyed Blues...
#NowPlaying "Brown Eyed Blues" - Adrian Hood
Its been a while since I've last posted because I've found myself completely smitten with the prospectus of a new woman who was seemingly everything I was looking for, just at the point when I least expected it. Sounds cliche I know, but I thought that maybe it was the right time. So I put aside old flings, didn't pay attention to anyone who could potentially alter this, and I'm back to where I started, the great friend who'll never be the lover.
Its been a while since I've last posted because I've found myself completely smitten with the prospectus of a new woman who was seemingly everything I was looking for, just at the point when I least expected it. Sounds cliche I know, but I thought that maybe it was the right time. So I put aside old flings, didn't pay attention to anyone who could potentially alter this, and I'm back to where I started, the great friend who'll never be the lover.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Light-Skinned "Wavy" Dudes is Back!
After last year’s blown MJ tribute, I had little faith in the ability of BET to bring an awards show that would make me admit that BET actually means BLACK Entertainment Television and stood for much more than the coonery that encompasses its airtime these days as it once did sometime in that decade known as the Eighties. Ah, the Eighties, a time where MJ rocked the curl, light-skinned dudes were in, and music (namely hip-hop) had a message beyond materialistic bullshit. So while I prayed to 8lb 6oz Creole baby Jesus, that BET avoided its stereotypical coonery and planned on avoiding the 2010 edition of the “monkey show” my latest superstar infatuation (Nicki Minaj) and social addiction (Twitter) prompted me to actually sit down and watch the awards Boy, was that a great decision!
My interest in the awards was largely due to my timeline becoming filled with sights of the spectacle known as “Momma Songz,” Nicki Minaj as Wilma Flintsone, an inaccurate representation of the Dallas dance craze known as the “Dougie” and Soulja Boy’s Pretty Boy Swag.
I could go all day about me wanting Nicki to make my bedrock, 
the East Coast theft of Southern Swag, or the latest installment of mainstream society making money off the unofficial intellectual property of the Nupes (NOT Kappa Alpha Psi). Lets face it, Nupes made “from the window…to the wall” famous, the Dougie is more nothing than a simple “grease” done in party struts, trains, and step shows near you, and only the Nupes have true “Pretty Boy Swag.” But dances always get lost in transition from state to state so I’ll let that go here and digress on to Nicki Minaj and “Momma Songz.” I have long said that a real beauty looks good in anything even with rollers in her head, Daniel Greens on her feet, and a baby on her hip. (Hood, I know, well I’m into that kinda stuff i.e. yella girls with long hair and slugs) “Momma Songz” deserves a pedestal along with Jada and her “Avatar braids,” 
Alicia’s cabaret performance while preggers, the Spalding chick with the “Jetson-esque” cello , Monica and her Dark Angel wings, and Nicki Minaj’s “best body money can buy.” “Momma Songz” will probably be one of my favorite trending topics for some time to come.
As far as the actual show is concerned, I couldn’t tell you much about who won what, although I am glad that we didn’t have to endure another one of Kanye’s rants about Beyonce’s soft-porn video’s being the “best of all time” as her and Lady Gaga took it home with “Video Phone.” What I can tell you, and I’m happy to boast of is that, light-skinned dudes is back! One year after the unexpected death of the King of Pop, he gets the tribute he deserved from an artist that is almost of that infamous MJ caliber and bar that he set so high. Chris Brown’s inability to finish his set without tears flowing was a triumphant return to stardom.
> Whatever happened between Chris Breezy and Rihanna is their business and we don’t know all the facts, but his Fan’s Choice award shows that America has forgiven him, and maybe its time that Jay, Bey, and Rihanna do the same. Hell, as much as I love Nicki Minaj, if she gave me “the Herp” all you would hear is Howard Cosell yelling “down goes Barbie!” Glad to see you back, Chris!
Next up on the mission to restore the fair-skinned brother’s swag was El DeBarge. He resembles one of those 7th Ward Creole St. Aug boys that we all know from back home. Throwback enough to confuse the 90s babies who are now beginning to unlatch themselves from their mother’s busoms but popular enough to have people (myself included) prancing around to “Rhythm of the Night” as homeaux as they did in the video we all saw featured in “The Last Dragon.”
DeBarge looked like one of those old sugar daddies who drives a Benz, steps out in nothing but linen in the summer with a pretty lil thang on his arm (my hero), and has a daughter that causes all men to say at least five words; “damn, she could get it!” (Stop me when I’m getting too New Orleans for you) We haven’t seen this guy in prominence since the late eighties, but BET managed to dig him up for a performance that even Paris Hilton would give the stamp of hotness.
In addition to DeBarge, the melanin-lacking black man can also stake claim in 2010’s man of the year thus far, Drake.
Drizzy has stepped up his stage presence and his numbers are running like Carl Lewis (not quite Usain Bolt but impressive nonetheless). Even J. Cole, who is poised to leave his mark on the year 2010 is in the “Creole corner” somewhere down the line. The light-skinned “wavy” brothers even saw John Legend get a well deserved humanitarian award only to have him pay us back by having a lining that begs him to slap his barber.
Not to mention the triumphant return of “The King,” T.I. So the unofficial count is at +6 and we haven’t even reached the Lifetime Achievement award.
In 2010, BET bestowed its lifetime achievement award to the first black man to attain a name in Minnesota that resounded with residents, Prince. Don’t laugh at the previous statement, that’s a prestigious club that includes the likes of Kirby Puckett, Kevin Garnett, Randy Moss, and New Orleans’ own Nat Dorsey (lol). So after clearing my thoughts of “Momma Songz” purifying herself in the waters of Lake Minnetonka, I regained consciousness long enough to see Ms. Spaulding play her cello. As I wondered what secrets she had in her own potbellied stove, out comes Alicia Keys with her own bun in the oven. Even while pregnant, she’s still nothing less than a dime. Now Ms. Keys’ performance even had Prince shocked
We were then treated to Patti Labelle who ultimately comes out of her $2000 Red Bottoms to be comfortable enough to give Prince the respect he deserves. Now “the respect Prince deserves” is the topic of a brand new posting, but there’s something I don’t quite get. I’ve seen women acclaim how sexy this short, skinny, weird, homeaux artist is, but admit that any other man’s attempt at such antics could only be described as ghei. This is the same guy that leaves women’s undergarments saturated and responding to claims of of Prince’s own homosexuality with comments such as “well, I’d fuck him straight.” How and why he has this uncanny effect on women, beautiful women at that, is one of those unsolved mysteries of the eighties that didn’t make primetime television.
Now even Creole baby Jesus couldn’t prevent BET from the coonery that comes with K-Mart sponsorship or women wavier their panties around during Tyrese’s Teddy Pendergrass set, which leads me to wonder if the resurgence of the light-skinned “wavy” dude is really authentic. The fact remains that I feel good to be considered red, and am questioning letting the dreads go. I gotta ride this puppy before we go on another ten year hiatus. LOL!
My interest in the awards was largely due to my timeline becoming filled with sights of the spectacle known as “Momma Songz,” Nicki Minaj as Wilma Flintsone, an inaccurate representation of the Dallas dance craze known as the “Dougie” and Soulja Boy’s Pretty Boy Swag.
I could go all day about me wanting Nicki to make my bedrock, the East Coast theft of Southern Swag, or the latest installment of mainstream society making money off the unofficial intellectual property of the Nupes (NOT Kappa Alpha Psi). Lets face it, Nupes made “from the window…to the wall” famous, the Dougie is more nothing than a simple “grease” done in party struts, trains, and step shows near you, and only the Nupes have true “Pretty Boy Swag.” But dances always get lost in transition from state to state so I’ll let that go here and digress on to Nicki Minaj and “Momma Songz.” I have long said that a real beauty looks good in anything even with rollers in her head, Daniel Greens on her feet, and a baby on her hip. (Hood, I know, well I’m into that kinda stuff i.e. yella girls with long hair and slugs) “Momma Songz” deserves a pedestal along with Jada and her “Avatar braids,” Alicia’s cabaret performance while preggers, the Spalding chick with the “Jetson-esque” cello As far as the actual show is concerned, I couldn’t tell you much about who won what, although I am glad that we didn’t have to endure another one of Kanye’s rants about Beyonce’s soft-porn video’s being the “best of all time” as her and Lady Gaga took it home with “Video Phone.” What I can tell you, and I’m happy to boast of is that, light-skinned dudes is back! One year after the unexpected death of the King of Pop, he gets the tribute he deserved from an artist that is almost of that infamous MJ caliber and bar that he set so high. Chris Brown’s inability to finish his set without tears flowing was a triumphant return to stardom.
> Whatever happened between Chris Breezy and Rihanna is their business and we don’t know all the facts, but his Fan’s Choice award shows that America has forgiven him, and maybe its time that Jay, Bey, and Rihanna do the same. Hell, as much as I love Nicki Minaj, if she gave me “the Herp” all you would hear is Howard Cosell yelling “down goes Barbie!” Glad to see you back, Chris!Next up on the mission to restore the fair-skinned brother’s swag was El DeBarge. He resembles one of those 7th Ward Creole St. Aug boys that we all know from back home. Throwback enough to confuse the 90s babies who are now beginning to unlatch themselves from their mother’s busoms but popular enough to have people (myself included) prancing around to “Rhythm of the Night” as homeaux as they did in the video we all saw featured in “The Last Dragon.”
DeBarge looked like one of those old sugar daddies who drives a Benz, steps out in nothing but linen in the summer with a pretty lil thang on his arm (my hero), and has a daughter that causes all men to say at least five words; “damn, she could get it!” (Stop me when I’m getting too New Orleans for you) We haven’t seen this guy in prominence since the late eighties, but BET managed to dig him up for a performance that even Paris Hilton would give the stamp of hotness.In addition to DeBarge, the melanin-lacking black man can also stake claim in 2010’s man of the year thus far, Drake.
Drizzy has stepped up his stage presence and his numbers are running like Carl Lewis (not quite Usain Bolt but impressive nonetheless). Even J. Cole, who is poised to leave his mark on the year 2010 is in the “Creole corner” somewhere down the line. The light-skinned “wavy” brothers even saw John Legend get a well deserved humanitarian award only to have him pay us back by having a lining that begs him to slap his barber. Not to mention the triumphant return of “The King,” T.I. So the unofficial count is at +6 and we haven’t even reached the Lifetime Achievement award.In 2010, BET bestowed its lifetime achievement award to the first black man to attain a name in Minnesota that resounded with residents, Prince. Don’t laugh at the previous statement, that’s a prestigious club that includes the likes of Kirby Puckett, Kevin Garnett, Randy Moss, and New Orleans’ own Nat Dorsey (lol). So after clearing my thoughts of “Momma Songz” purifying herself in the waters of Lake Minnetonka, I regained consciousness long enough to see Ms. Spaulding play her cello. As I wondered what secrets she had in her own potbellied stove, out comes Alicia Keys with her own bun in the oven. Even while pregnant, she’s still nothing less than a dime. Now Ms. Keys’ performance even had Prince shocked
We were then treated to Patti Labelle who ultimately comes out of her $2000 Red Bottoms to be comfortable enough to give Prince the respect he deserves. Now “the respect Prince deserves” is the topic of a brand new posting, but there’s something I don’t quite get. I’ve seen women acclaim how sexy this short, skinny, weird, homeaux artist is, but admit that any other man’s attempt at such antics could only be described as ghei. This is the same guy that leaves women’s undergarments saturated and responding to claims of of Prince’s own homosexuality with comments such as “well, I’d fuck him straight.” How and why he has this uncanny effect on women, beautiful women at that, is one of those unsolved mysteries of the eighties that didn’t make primetime television.Now even Creole baby Jesus couldn’t prevent BET from the coonery that comes with K-Mart sponsorship or women wavier their panties around during Tyrese’s Teddy Pendergrass set, which leads me to wonder if the resurgence of the light-skinned “wavy” dude is really authentic. The fact remains that I feel good to be considered red, and am questioning letting the dreads go. I gotta ride this puppy before we go on another ten year hiatus. LOL!
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Everybody's Fault But Your Own...
I get ever so tired of repeating the well known fact that women are crazy, but would like to reiterate that its not an unbearable crazy because I know of several friends of mine who have "happy" relationships and marriages. The more I think about it, I guess its more of the whole mantra that men are from Mars and women from Venus or opposites attract, but what's the other options; be lonely or be gay, right? So I guess you just gotta pick your own poison. Well, I suppose that my latest relationship rant is more or less a rant against people rather than just against women.
Essence posted an article on the 6th about Dwayne Wade's ex-wife suing Gabrielle Union under one of those rarely enforced laws that's only still in the books that allows for a woman to sue her (ex)husband's mistress under an alienation of affection cause of action. While I can see the actual benefits that such a claim may bring in addition to the financial gain, it causes me to question what is ever gained from blaming the other woman/man? Okay so this person ruined your relationship and possibly your "come-up move" if you were one of those people who "date-up" in search of what you can get out of the other person or are just a "bopper" or a "gold-digger," but life does indeed move on. I'll be the first to admit that taking the legal route is actually much more mature that slashing tires or busting windows, but it's still effed up all the same.
Unless the other woman/man was a good friend of yours, they owe you nothing. Let us not forget the tirade on Facebook, blogs, and other media outlets regarding Swizz Beat's ex-wife Mashonda and her spiel against Alica Keys in which she asked Keys to be the "bigger woman" and allow the two to "fix" their marriage. (I bet Mashonda wished she lived in Hawaii, Illinois, Mississippi, New Mexico, North Carolina, South Dakota or Utah, the seven states which still allow such suits.) I have always been one to preach self-accountability noting that folks should always be responsible for their own shortcomings, but this whole thing is ridiculous. I think that we as Americans are in our current state because we're always looking to shift the blame to someone else. If your relationship fails, its more than likely because of something you did or didn't do, and in the case that it isn't, it's your mate's fault. I know that a lot of women will probably feel that Siohvaughn Wade deserves every penny of her suit which is in excess of 9 million dollars, but I think that's why "fault" divorces allow courts to split the marital estate in disproportionate shares. So why blame the other woman?
Essence posted an article on the 6th about Dwayne Wade's ex-wife suing Gabrielle Union under one of those rarely enforced laws that's only still in the books that allows for a woman to sue her (ex)husband's mistress under an alienation of affection cause of action. While I can see the actual benefits that such a claim may bring in addition to the financial gain, it causes me to question what is ever gained from blaming the other woman/man? Okay so this person ruined your relationship and possibly your "come-up move" if you were one of those people who "date-up" in search of what you can get out of the other person or are just a "bopper" or a "gold-digger," but life does indeed move on. I'll be the first to admit that taking the legal route is actually much more mature that slashing tires or busting windows, but it's still effed up all the same.
Unless the other woman/man was a good friend of yours, they owe you nothing. Let us not forget the tirade on Facebook, blogs, and other media outlets regarding Swizz Beat's ex-wife Mashonda and her spiel against Alica Keys in which she asked Keys to be the "bigger woman" and allow the two to "fix" their marriage. (I bet Mashonda wished she lived in Hawaii, Illinois, Mississippi, New Mexico, North Carolina, South Dakota or Utah, the seven states which still allow such suits.) I have always been one to preach self-accountability noting that folks should always be responsible for their own shortcomings, but this whole thing is ridiculous. I think that we as Americans are in our current state because we're always looking to shift the blame to someone else. If your relationship fails, its more than likely because of something you did or didn't do, and in the case that it isn't, it's your mate's fault. I know that a lot of women will probably feel that Siohvaughn Wade deserves every penny of her suit which is in excess of 9 million dollars, but I think that's why "fault" divorces allow courts to split the marital estate in disproportionate shares. So why blame the other woman?
Monday, May 3, 2010
Don't Apologize For Doing It, Apologize For Getting Caught...
If you haven't heard about blacks being "genetically inferior," read this;
The other day I had my friend post a link on my wall regarding an email that was sent out by a "badass" 3L from Harvard Law School. Apparently, the young woman was involved in a discussion amongst her colleagues in which she conceeded that African-Americans are "genetically inferior" to whites. Well this woman decides to further her opinion by sending out an email to her friends who thought that she had merely used bad judgement and gave her a Jamie Foxx pass (blame it on the goose) by sending an email to these same associates that bolstered her sentiments and gave "persuasive athority" to support her reasoning. This same email was forwarded to the Harvard chapter of the Black Law Students Association which was in turn forwarded throught their (unofficial) listserv and made it's way to the ugly world of the internet. (Glad to know that the messiness that I experienced in law school is also prevalent in Tier 1 law schools.) From the BLSA listserv, this email made it's way to nationwide news, Media Take Out, Facebook, and Twitter. Black folks were angry that Harvard BLSA didn't have a response to the hurtful email, while others were looking for whoever they could blame, and others were calling for the third year student to lose her Federal clerkship. My question to all readers of this posting is "why are we surprised?"
A few years prior many people wondered why I supported Ron Paul in his political endeavor after he said that all black and Latin males at the very least are semi-criminal. But I like Paul because at least he doesn't attempt to conceal his racist views, something that I appreciate. Given the history of our country, I think that everyone has some racist views, not calling them all racists, just people having those kind of thoughts. With that being said, we should all appreciate any opportunities to know who thinks less of us merely based upon our race, gender, orientation, and/or upbringing. I've never been a fan of the political way of thinking in which u have to put on a front and seem to be everyone's friend when u drag folks through the mud behind their backs. So everyone who disagrees with me should understand why I say that I'm not mad at the racist student's email. Furthermore I'm not mad at HBLSA's lack of response, nor the fact that the Federalist Society has actively came out and stated that the student is not involved in their organization nor where the comments made at a Federalist Society function. What I expected to happen did, Harvard has apologized and the racist student has in turn issued her own bullshit apology. But that's where I get upset at.
Like the title of this posting reads, I much would prefer for people to apologize not for the dumb shit that they do, but for getting kaught when they do they dumb shit. My father raised me to say what u mean and mean what you say, so you'll have to excuse me when people issue apologizes for things that they said. How about you not apologize for what was done and apologize that u hurt people's feelings, I think that would be received much better, if not, at least it's the truth. I think what troubles me the most is the reality that this student is not the only one who thinks in such a manner. When I applied to law school I scored a 155 on the LSAT and was bewildered how I was told that my mid-fifties percentile assigned to my score was good. I had heard often that it was a good score for a black male and was totally upset by that notion. I'm not an affirmative action baby, nor am I privy to playing off advantages that others may give me. Was my LSAT score good because my genetically inferior brain could never anticipate getting anything close to a 180? Or maybe that's the reason why law schols at HBCUs which cannot seem to get bar passage rates of 70 percent account for greater than 80% of all black attorneys in the US?
I'm not sure how to feel about this whole situation and write this for help on how others should feel. One one hand I'm appalled at this commentary and subsequent email, but on the other hand I agree. On one hand I want this woman to lose everything that her Harvard education is about to get for her, but on the other hand I pity her for not being to express her self in a closed environment and that being exposed to the world at large. But at the end of the day, TI said it best; all this dumb shit is just fuel to my fire, MOTIVATION!!!
The other day I had my friend post a link on my wall regarding an email that was sent out by a "badass" 3L from Harvard Law School. Apparently, the young woman was involved in a discussion amongst her colleagues in which she conceeded that African-Americans are "genetically inferior" to whites. Well this woman decides to further her opinion by sending out an email to her friends who thought that she had merely used bad judgement and gave her a Jamie Foxx pass (blame it on the goose) by sending an email to these same associates that bolstered her sentiments and gave "persuasive athority" to support her reasoning. This same email was forwarded to the Harvard chapter of the Black Law Students Association which was in turn forwarded throught their (unofficial) listserv and made it's way to the ugly world of the internet. (Glad to know that the messiness that I experienced in law school is also prevalent in Tier 1 law schools.) From the BLSA listserv, this email made it's way to nationwide news, Media Take Out, Facebook, and Twitter. Black folks were angry that Harvard BLSA didn't have a response to the hurtful email, while others were looking for whoever they could blame, and others were calling for the third year student to lose her Federal clerkship. My question to all readers of this posting is "why are we surprised?"
A few years prior many people wondered why I supported Ron Paul in his political endeavor after he said that all black and Latin males at the very least are semi-criminal. But I like Paul because at least he doesn't attempt to conceal his racist views, something that I appreciate. Given the history of our country, I think that everyone has some racist views, not calling them all racists, just people having those kind of thoughts. With that being said, we should all appreciate any opportunities to know who thinks less of us merely based upon our race, gender, orientation, and/or upbringing. I've never been a fan of the political way of thinking in which u have to put on a front and seem to be everyone's friend when u drag folks through the mud behind their backs. So everyone who disagrees with me should understand why I say that I'm not mad at the racist student's email. Furthermore I'm not mad at HBLSA's lack of response, nor the fact that the Federalist Society has actively came out and stated that the student is not involved in their organization nor where the comments made at a Federalist Society function. What I expected to happen did, Harvard has apologized and the racist student has in turn issued her own bullshit apology. But that's where I get upset at.
Like the title of this posting reads, I much would prefer for people to apologize not for the dumb shit that they do, but for getting kaught when they do they dumb shit. My father raised me to say what u mean and mean what you say, so you'll have to excuse me when people issue apologizes for things that they said. How about you not apologize for what was done and apologize that u hurt people's feelings, I think that would be received much better, if not, at least it's the truth. I think what troubles me the most is the reality that this student is not the only one who thinks in such a manner. When I applied to law school I scored a 155 on the LSAT and was bewildered how I was told that my mid-fifties percentile assigned to my score was good. I had heard often that it was a good score for a black male and was totally upset by that notion. I'm not an affirmative action baby, nor am I privy to playing off advantages that others may give me. Was my LSAT score good because my genetically inferior brain could never anticipate getting anything close to a 180? Or maybe that's the reason why law schols at HBCUs which cannot seem to get bar passage rates of 70 percent account for greater than 80% of all black attorneys in the US?
I'm not sure how to feel about this whole situation and write this for help on how others should feel. One one hand I'm appalled at this commentary and subsequent email, but on the other hand I agree. On one hand I want this woman to lose everything that her Harvard education is about to get for her, but on the other hand I pity her for not being to express her self in a closed environment and that being exposed to the world at large. But at the end of the day, TI said it best; all this dumb shit is just fuel to my fire, MOTIVATION!!!
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Hater Niggas Marry Hater Bitches and Have Hater Kids
I have said all my life that I am a well liked person, the only people I know of that dislike me are either those who I don't give a fuck about, those who want to be me, those whom I have totally messed over a friend/relative of theirs, and those whose girl I've smashed. But the funny part is that I usually have the last laugh on these same people that dislike me and I couldn't care less one way or the other.
I used to be one to say that haters didn't exist in our society, that it was just people blaming their own shortcomings on the actions of others until I encountered a relentless hater with the mannerisms of a female. So I'll just get this ish off my chest and vent about this jackass.
Well a friend of mine, whom I've been knowing for over 10 years, mostly staying connected through social medium, and actually going on a date our freshman year of college has recently had a baby by one of these hater ass niggas. She and I discussed the prospectus of us taking our friendship a step further a while ago and I was okay with the idea as I was uninvolved at the time, and kinda curious myself about her from a physical standpoint. Well, in the time that she and I discussed making these curiosities into reality, she and her Baby Momma (yeah that's what I kalled dude) got back together and she asked me as a friend to back off, which I in turn did.
But if u know how haters operate, you know that they are never done...they have to keep going, usually to their own detriment. So this guy here decides to "unleash the hounds," without knowing all of the facts....
She posts a status asking facebook to help her define a good man. When she reveals that her own definition is a bit too long for facebook, he emits a commentary about her being after broke ass lawyers who run to other states and neglect their responsibilities. WHAT THE FUCK?!?! So I give dude a chance to be a man about the situation and write him a message asking if he had anything to say to me, and in the course of 4 hrs, this guy writes me a total of 12 messages as compared to my 2 and brings my son, my mother, and my grandmother into the mix. He even goes so far as to ask me to give him a call with whatever I have to say. DID I OR DID I NOT WRITE TO YOU ASKING YOU THE SAME THING? WHAT WOULD MAKE YOU THINK THAT I EVEN CONSIDER YOU OF RELATIVE IMPORTANCE TO HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY TO YOU?!?! Well this guy still doesn't give up, he somehow gets my number and calls me 8 times in a 2 hr period which ended past 2AM in the morning and most of the calls were from blocked numbers. I mean, who does that? What self-respecting man would do things that a high-school-aged female does?
So the next day I awake to see the phone calls, the texts, and even the picture mail, followed by a text at 7AM, meaning dude is still worried about me. So finally I call, and we play phone tag for the next couple of hours, but then when I finally get in touch with dude, he still on the same shit talking about how his heart don't pump kool-aid and he's gutter but yet and still u talkin bout my momma, how gutta does that make you? Finally ole girl just spoiled the surprise and told him that I had smashed, and now his heart is all broken, but this shit doesn't add up to me. I guess I've had the last laugh on his ass, but I'm not sure if she had anything to do with this or not...
I used to be one to say that haters didn't exist in our society, that it was just people blaming their own shortcomings on the actions of others until I encountered a relentless hater with the mannerisms of a female. So I'll just get this ish off my chest and vent about this jackass.
Well a friend of mine, whom I've been knowing for over 10 years, mostly staying connected through social medium, and actually going on a date our freshman year of college has recently had a baby by one of these hater ass niggas. She and I discussed the prospectus of us taking our friendship a step further a while ago and I was okay with the idea as I was uninvolved at the time, and kinda curious myself about her from a physical standpoint. Well, in the time that she and I discussed making these curiosities into reality, she and her Baby Momma (yeah that's what I kalled dude) got back together and she asked me as a friend to back off, which I in turn did.
But if u know how haters operate, you know that they are never done...they have to keep going, usually to their own detriment. So this guy here decides to "unleash the hounds," without knowing all of the facts....
She posts a status asking facebook to help her define a good man. When she reveals that her own definition is a bit too long for facebook, he emits a commentary about her being after broke ass lawyers who run to other states and neglect their responsibilities. WHAT THE FUCK?!?! So I give dude a chance to be a man about the situation and write him a message asking if he had anything to say to me, and in the course of 4 hrs, this guy writes me a total of 12 messages as compared to my 2 and brings my son, my mother, and my grandmother into the mix. He even goes so far as to ask me to give him a call with whatever I have to say. DID I OR DID I NOT WRITE TO YOU ASKING YOU THE SAME THING? WHAT WOULD MAKE YOU THINK THAT I EVEN CONSIDER YOU OF RELATIVE IMPORTANCE TO HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY TO YOU?!?! Well this guy still doesn't give up, he somehow gets my number and calls me 8 times in a 2 hr period which ended past 2AM in the morning and most of the calls were from blocked numbers. I mean, who does that? What self-respecting man would do things that a high-school-aged female does?
So the next day I awake to see the phone calls, the texts, and even the picture mail, followed by a text at 7AM, meaning dude is still worried about me. So finally I call, and we play phone tag for the next couple of hours, but then when I finally get in touch with dude, he still on the same shit talking about how his heart don't pump kool-aid and he's gutter but yet and still u talkin bout my momma, how gutta does that make you? Finally ole girl just spoiled the surprise and told him that I had smashed, and now his heart is all broken, but this shit doesn't add up to me. I guess I've had the last laugh on his ass, but I'm not sure if she had anything to do with this or not...
Thursday, March 11, 2010
The Oxymoron of Coonery in "Freaknik"
"Freaknik" (From Wikipedia) - an annual spring break meeting in Atlanta, Georgia, primarily of students from historically black colleges and universities. Begun in 1982 as a small picnic near the Atlanta University Center, it was initially sponsored by the DC Metro Club and was typically held during the third weekend in April to coincide with the schools of the Atlanta University Center's Reading Day. The event increased in size and popularity in the 1990s with dancing, drinking, parties, a basketball tournament, rap sessions, a film festival and a job fair.
But that's just the book definition...
The real question is "do you really know Freaknik?" Have you ever been to Freaknik, have you ever talked to someone who has, have you seen pictures, and what of the plethora of rumors regarding Freaknik have you heard? Let's be honest here, Freaknik was coonery at its finest! Black folks under the influence of alcohol and weed brought to Atlanta under the premise of a good old-fashioned Freak Fest. You and I both know that Freaknik had a lot of "e-r"s "showing their ass!" Now in 2010, we have T-Pain, the ringleader man, the auto-tune king, releasing an animated cartoon entitled "Freaknik: The Musical" which aired on Adult Swim on March 7, 2010 and can been seen here.
Now I have read blog postings, message board postings, and e-mails from people who have expressed a distaste for T-Pain and his newest attempt at expressing his thoughts in the name of Entertainment. I've even heard some go so far as to say that T-Pain is further hurting black people by putting out this fictional work in which such things occur as Lil Wayne doing the voice for "Trap Jesus." But what troubled me the most was a posting when T-Pain was accused of coonery. Coonery in/at Freaknik? ARE YOU SERIOUS?! Isn't that the expected?
The funny part about black folks is how ready we are to throw a word out because we heard it somewhere in an attempt to sound more intelligent than we really are. So I'll help out any reader that I may have who don't really know what coonery is. The unofficial definition for coonery used among Black people is someone who acts like a buffoon or sellout, usually with stereotypical or over-the-top antics, reminiscent of minstrel shows. But the thing about those who portray coonery do so without the intent of being stereotypical i.e. Ray J, Flava Flav, Al Sharpton, and the like. How can we ever portray Freaknik without the coonery that it entailed? I personally found T-Pain's cartoon is very funny, and thought it to be excellent. That satirical portrayal of "Trap Jesus" and his "Hood Commandments" was probably the best part to me. But I am writing this because I wanted to know what others thought. Is "Freaknik" coonery? Or is it an artistic expression of an event which was filled with coonery at its high point?
But that's just the book definition...
The real question is "do you really know Freaknik?" Have you ever been to Freaknik, have you ever talked to someone who has, have you seen pictures, and what of the plethora of rumors regarding Freaknik have you heard? Let's be honest here, Freaknik was coonery at its finest! Black folks under the influence of alcohol and weed brought to Atlanta under the premise of a good old-fashioned Freak Fest. You and I both know that Freaknik had a lot of "e-r"s "showing their ass!" Now in 2010, we have T-Pain, the ringleader man, the auto-tune king, releasing an animated cartoon entitled "Freaknik: The Musical" which aired on Adult Swim on March 7, 2010 and can been seen here.
Now I have read blog postings, message board postings, and e-mails from people who have expressed a distaste for T-Pain and his newest attempt at expressing his thoughts in the name of Entertainment. I've even heard some go so far as to say that T-Pain is further hurting black people by putting out this fictional work in which such things occur as Lil Wayne doing the voice for "Trap Jesus." But what troubled me the most was a posting when T-Pain was accused of coonery. Coonery in/at Freaknik? ARE YOU SERIOUS?! Isn't that the expected?
The funny part about black folks is how ready we are to throw a word out because we heard it somewhere in an attempt to sound more intelligent than we really are. So I'll help out any reader that I may have who don't really know what coonery is. The unofficial definition for coonery used among Black people is someone who acts like a buffoon or sellout, usually with stereotypical or over-the-top antics, reminiscent of minstrel shows. But the thing about those who portray coonery do so without the intent of being stereotypical i.e. Ray J, Flava Flav, Al Sharpton, and the like. How can we ever portray Freaknik without the coonery that it entailed? I personally found T-Pain's cartoon is very funny, and thought it to be excellent. That satirical portrayal of "Trap Jesus" and his "Hood Commandments" was probably the best part to me. But I am writing this because I wanted to know what others thought. Is "Freaknik" coonery? Or is it an artistic expression of an event which was filled with coonery at its high point?
Monday, March 8, 2010
Victims of the Community???
This post is dedicated to the memory of Mr. Frank Brooks, Ms. Nakia Massey, Ms. Danielle Adams, and anyone else whom I either don't know of or forgot who passed that was either a member of Corpus Christi's last 8th grade class of 96 or a part of seeing us matriculate through that school...
Today, I was met with a shock, a realization that I may never see someone again in my life. But this person is not dead, only potentially gone forever currently appealing a life sentence murder conviction. This was a dear friend of mine, and although I hadn't seen him in years, I have more than a lifetime of memories of him. My thoughts of my old friend came as a result of Facebook, which is what the site was actually intended to do, provide a medium for friends so that they never lose contact. Well as I am nearing my 14th year anniversary of the graduation from Corpus Christi, I am thrilled to be in contact with people that I haven't seen or heard from in years, some since that night in May 1996 at the old church on St. Bernard. But, as with most reunions, there are the questions; "where have you been," "what have you been up to," "are you married," "what happened to such-and-such," the last of which is the whole inspiration for this posting.
A Facebook group was created for those Eagles who wore red, blue, and gold (although the red didn't come into play until like 92 or 93, and I don't really know where it came from) in hopes that we could all share our memories from cots and naps to trying to sneak off at field day to play "Kiss, Catch, and Get a Lil Bit." And in the course of a simple conversation on the board certain names came up. Now I won't put people out there on blast but I mean most people are doing well, married, kids, yanno, living life. And then there are others, one of my good friends whom I hung out with a lot because he and I were both short, even shorter than most of the girls lol, was acquitted of a murder charge where he had signed a confession alleging it was an accident. (Quick Sidebar: I don't know what the truth is or what isn't but he was acquitted in criminal court, so that means he's an innocent man despite what the streets say, or despite the NOPD's track record for putting the blame on innocent black men) Found out another old friend was indicted for rape in 2004, and again for aggravated assault in 2007, but I don't know if he ever served time, but have heard he did like 2 yrs for dealing heroin. But today was just the end all be all. I saw another friend post that one guy who I always looked at as like a big brother was fighting a murder charge, but what I didn't know is that on November 20, 2009, he was sentenced to life without the possibility of parole, and my heart just sank. Whether he did it or not I'll never know, but with the possibility of appeals getting overturned, especially for a murder, I know I'll probably never see him again.
So then I got to thinking. Is it normal for people to go to elementary school with murderers and rapists? Are we victims of being raised in New Orleans, or is this just life? Were these people always that bad but since I knew them as kids I dismissed their antics? My son is mischievous, does this mean he's heading down the same path and I need to get him out of New Orleans? I was afforded the same options as my classmates but yet I've never been to jail, and have done quite well for myself. I guess my dad said it best, "when you're little, you just never know who that person you're sitting next to will be in 10 or 20 years."
Today, I was met with a shock, a realization that I may never see someone again in my life. But this person is not dead, only potentially gone forever currently appealing a life sentence murder conviction. This was a dear friend of mine, and although I hadn't seen him in years, I have more than a lifetime of memories of him. My thoughts of my old friend came as a result of Facebook, which is what the site was actually intended to do, provide a medium for friends so that they never lose contact. Well as I am nearing my 14th year anniversary of the graduation from Corpus Christi, I am thrilled to be in contact with people that I haven't seen or heard from in years, some since that night in May 1996 at the old church on St. Bernard. But, as with most reunions, there are the questions; "where have you been," "what have you been up to," "are you married," "what happened to such-and-such," the last of which is the whole inspiration for this posting.
A Facebook group was created for those Eagles who wore red, blue, and gold (although the red didn't come into play until like 92 or 93, and I don't really know where it came from) in hopes that we could all share our memories from cots and naps to trying to sneak off at field day to play "Kiss, Catch, and Get a Lil Bit." And in the course of a simple conversation on the board certain names came up. Now I won't put people out there on blast but I mean most people are doing well, married, kids, yanno, living life. And then there are others, one of my good friends whom I hung out with a lot because he and I were both short, even shorter than most of the girls lol, was acquitted of a murder charge where he had signed a confession alleging it was an accident. (Quick Sidebar: I don't know what the truth is or what isn't but he was acquitted in criminal court, so that means he's an innocent man despite what the streets say, or despite the NOPD's track record for putting the blame on innocent black men) Found out another old friend was indicted for rape in 2004, and again for aggravated assault in 2007, but I don't know if he ever served time, but have heard he did like 2 yrs for dealing heroin. But today was just the end all be all. I saw another friend post that one guy who I always looked at as like a big brother was fighting a murder charge, but what I didn't know is that on November 20, 2009, he was sentenced to life without the possibility of parole, and my heart just sank. Whether he did it or not I'll never know, but with the possibility of appeals getting overturned, especially for a murder, I know I'll probably never see him again.
So then I got to thinking. Is it normal for people to go to elementary school with murderers and rapists? Are we victims of being raised in New Orleans, or is this just life? Were these people always that bad but since I knew them as kids I dismissed their antics? My son is mischievous, does this mean he's heading down the same path and I need to get him out of New Orleans? I was afforded the same options as my classmates but yet I've never been to jail, and have done quite well for myself. I guess my dad said it best, "when you're little, you just never know who that person you're sitting next to will be in 10 or 20 years."
Friday, March 5, 2010
Black People Further in Denial
I came upon a post on a greek message board that I belong to about a Dare Dorm video that was allegedly shot on the campus of FAMU. For those of you who may not be porn connoisseurs like myself, I'll just take the intro from the site and let you know what Dare Dorm is. "Daredorm is the first site where u can make $10,000 dollars for submitting your college dorm room antics. Sheeeah... the internet rulez!!!" So I guess they're whole premise is to make college students submit their homemade porn under the guise of a contest for 10 grand. Well when I first came upon this site I looked at some of the preview pics and stuff (yeah, I'm nasty, so what!) and I was kinda weirded out by how they won't tell what college they got the tapes from, but have clues about where they are. Like for instance, the one from a school in Louisiana, had a purple and gold blanket on the wall that was blurred out, while one from Florida had a blurred out blue and orange something on the wall. My first though upon seeing this was that it was a fake, but then again, I'm not white so I don't know what white people put up in their dorm rooms. But I digress, this is not a post what I think about when I watch fake ass "reality" porn, its about the response to a particular piece of "reality" porn.
Well I just so happened to see the scene, it was kinda scripted in my opinion the way it went down, they were playing this stupid ass game, and all of a sudden like dudes got they faces in twats, girls eating girls, and it gets popping. I never knew of any orgies that went down so willy-nilly, not that I've been in any or anything like that, I've just heard. Well they managed to show chicken fingers and sauce, characteristic of Guthrie's, but they never say the name. College students aren't that up on intellectual property laws and would have told u they were talkin bout Guthrie's, hell if you been to Tallahassee, you know bout Guthrie's. Then another thing that bothered me is that they had to show a blurred out orange and green clock talkin bout this is the home of the real but no one ever says FAMU, and there were orange and green curtains in the room. Now I've been to FAMU a few times and seen the dorms there, and it did look like a FAMU dorm so it was kinda believable in that respect.
I recently came across a blog posting where a young lady had investigated the tape and found evidence that it was fake. She presents a very compelling argument, but according to her, the need to do it was echoed on by the uproar in which the tape was received. Allegedly, HBCU and FAMU alumni alike were upset that such a video would be put out there putting our institutions of higher education in such a bad light.
WHAT?!
DID YOU GO TO COLLEGE?!
College students make homemade porn all the time, its just a part of college, who cares if the tape is real or not, that's what college students do. But please, let's not act like all black kids are angels and we don't do that kind of activity. Kids will be kids, and race has nothing to do with what they do.
Well I just so happened to see the scene, it was kinda scripted in my opinion the way it went down, they were playing this stupid ass game, and all of a sudden like dudes got they faces in twats, girls eating girls, and it gets popping. I never knew of any orgies that went down so willy-nilly, not that I've been in any or anything like that, I've just heard. Well they managed to show chicken fingers and sauce, characteristic of Guthrie's, but they never say the name. College students aren't that up on intellectual property laws and would have told u they were talkin bout Guthrie's, hell if you been to Tallahassee, you know bout Guthrie's. Then another thing that bothered me is that they had to show a blurred out orange and green clock talkin bout this is the home of the real but no one ever says FAMU, and there were orange and green curtains in the room. Now I've been to FAMU a few times and seen the dorms there, and it did look like a FAMU dorm so it was kinda believable in that respect.
I recently came across a blog posting where a young lady had investigated the tape and found evidence that it was fake. She presents a very compelling argument, but according to her, the need to do it was echoed on by the uproar in which the tape was received. Allegedly, HBCU and FAMU alumni alike were upset that such a video would be put out there putting our institutions of higher education in such a bad light.
WHAT?!
DID YOU GO TO COLLEGE?!
College students make homemade porn all the time, its just a part of college, who cares if the tape is real or not, that's what college students do. But please, let's not act like all black kids are angels and we don't do that kind of activity. Kids will be kids, and race has nothing to do with what they do.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Exploiting Our Traditions...
***DISCLAIMER*** Yanno, this post which I was doing a little at a time and was in the midst of scrapping, has became a bit of a satisfactory piece, because I feel like the Corporate Monster that I always speak of showed a little bit of compassion, and finally did something right…#endrant…on with the show, be advised that this is the original posting as well as the “nu-nu” I’ll let u know where the updates comes in….
I like most other NPHC (National Pan-Hellenic Council) Greeks, was excited that Coca-Cola took the lead to give the artform of stepping a national platform and to have the type of stepshow that dreams are made of. Hell, just imagine what your chapter would do with $100,000! Well the Sprite Step Off even was granted an MTV show, and I was thinking that this whole idea was a good thing for Black Greeks. If you looked at the website for the competition, you see members of all of "Divine 9" groups proudly displaying their colors and displaying moves and hand-signs that they have all become known for over the years. But little did I know that Sprite had other plans.
The stage had then become set...90 groups from across the nation participating in regional competitions, and of the 90 groups, 89 were NPHC organizations, all except Zeta Tau Alpha. Now I don’t get into the typical White Greek vs. Black Greek arguments because I was made at an HBCU and if you’re going to go Greek at those types of institutions, the NHPC variety is typically all that is available. So I won’t say that stepping is “our” art form and that’s the reason why I’m upset that ZTA won the sorority portion, but the fact that a good but not great team won the largest step show ever, truly bothered me. But after reading commentary of ZTA’s show, I thought that maybe it was hidden racism that I was suffering from because I could not give these women their props, but my investigation into some of the surrounding circumstances lead me to believe that Coca-Cola was just another corporation who chose to exploit Blacks.
I don’t know who gave MTV the idea, but MTV picked 6 teams (3 guys, 3 girls) after the regional rounds to make a reality show covering the step-off. Now the show from jump was planned to go all the way up until the finals, which instantly gave a red flag in my opinion because how can you plan a show around participants who may not even get that far? This was sign number one that this was going to be fixed. Then the fact that one of the teams that they picked was an all-white group who were the underdogs, taught to step by the AKAs at their school 16 years ago, made their winning all the more sweeter, if they won, but who are we kidding you know they were going to win.
We as a people tend to look at White America’s imitation of our arts as “cute,” so naturally ZTA’s performance got “house” from the crowd in Atlanta. But their prose that they were only there to show that they were capable of being one of the best step-teams in the nation was laughable because they also “dropped it low” in their show, how is that proving you’re a quality step-team as opposed to doing what you’ve seen done before. However, for those of you who haven’t seen the show, go search for it on Youtube, and you will see a crisp, clean, precise show that lacks in stepping originality and creativity in my opinion. The ladies of ZTA were good, but not great, not good enough to win the biggest step-show ever and to win $100,000. The crowd thought it was cute, and the celebrity judges, who were not a total panel of Greeks as done with most step shows, rather a potluck of celebrities, who really have no expertise on the matter. And in the end ZTA won, to which the crowd responded with:
so did they really deserve to win? Should we stop teaching our talents so that we don’t have to get mad when other groups do it better than us? Should Coca-Cola focused more on steppers than showcasing NPHC Greeks when publicizing the Sprite Step-Off? These are all valid questions do not have a black and white answer, but one thing remains clear, Sprite took us for a ride….
***UPDATE FEB 25, 2010*** Coca-Cola has announced today that due to a scoring discrepancy, the Tau Chapter of Alpha Kappa Alpha (the real winners) would be co-winners and would also receive $100,000, so that’s a good thing. But was there really a discrepancy, or did Coca-Cola mere succumb to the pressure of posters like myself who were less than thrilled. Either way, they got what they wanted, notoriety and money, while NPHC Greeks are steadily watching our beloved artform, just lose more and more of its prestige, thanks to Stomp the Yard, Step it Up, and The Sprite-Step-Off. *Sigh* The exploitation of our culture never stops…
I like most other NPHC (National Pan-Hellenic Council) Greeks, was excited that Coca-Cola took the lead to give the artform of stepping a national platform and to have the type of stepshow that dreams are made of. Hell, just imagine what your chapter would do with $100,000! Well the Sprite Step Off even was granted an MTV show, and I was thinking that this whole idea was a good thing for Black Greeks. If you looked at the website for the competition, you see members of all of "Divine 9" groups proudly displaying their colors and displaying moves and hand-signs that they have all become known for over the years. But little did I know that Sprite had other plans.
The stage had then become set...90 groups from across the nation participating in regional competitions, and of the 90 groups, 89 were NPHC organizations, all except Zeta Tau Alpha. Now I don’t get into the typical White Greek vs. Black Greek arguments because I was made at an HBCU and if you’re going to go Greek at those types of institutions, the NHPC variety is typically all that is available. So I won’t say that stepping is “our” art form and that’s the reason why I’m upset that ZTA won the sorority portion, but the fact that a good but not great team won the largest step show ever, truly bothered me. But after reading commentary of ZTA’s show, I thought that maybe it was hidden racism that I was suffering from because I could not give these women their props, but my investigation into some of the surrounding circumstances lead me to believe that Coca-Cola was just another corporation who chose to exploit Blacks.
I don’t know who gave MTV the idea, but MTV picked 6 teams (3 guys, 3 girls) after the regional rounds to make a reality show covering the step-off. Now the show from jump was planned to go all the way up until the finals, which instantly gave a red flag in my opinion because how can you plan a show around participants who may not even get that far? This was sign number one that this was going to be fixed. Then the fact that one of the teams that they picked was an all-white group who were the underdogs, taught to step by the AKAs at their school 16 years ago, made their winning all the more sweeter, if they won, but who are we kidding you know they were going to win.
We as a people tend to look at White America’s imitation of our arts as “cute,” so naturally ZTA’s performance got “house” from the crowd in Atlanta. But their prose that they were only there to show that they were capable of being one of the best step-teams in the nation was laughable because they also “dropped it low” in their show, how is that proving you’re a quality step-team as opposed to doing what you’ve seen done before. However, for those of you who haven’t seen the show, go search for it on Youtube, and you will see a crisp, clean, precise show that lacks in stepping originality and creativity in my opinion. The ladies of ZTA were good, but not great, not good enough to win the biggest step-show ever and to win $100,000. The crowd thought it was cute, and the celebrity judges, who were not a total panel of Greeks as done with most step shows, rather a potluck of celebrities, who really have no expertise on the matter. And in the end ZTA won, to which the crowd responded with:
so did they really deserve to win? Should we stop teaching our talents so that we don’t have to get mad when other groups do it better than us? Should Coca-Cola focused more on steppers than showcasing NPHC Greeks when publicizing the Sprite Step-Off? These are all valid questions do not have a black and white answer, but one thing remains clear, Sprite took us for a ride….
***UPDATE FEB 25, 2010*** Coca-Cola has announced today that due to a scoring discrepancy, the Tau Chapter of Alpha Kappa Alpha (the real winners) would be co-winners and would also receive $100,000, so that’s a good thing. But was there really a discrepancy, or did Coca-Cola mere succumb to the pressure of posters like myself who were less than thrilled. Either way, they got what they wanted, notoriety and money, while NPHC Greeks are steadily watching our beloved artform, just lose more and more of its prestige, thanks to Stomp the Yard, Step it Up, and The Sprite-Step-Off. *Sigh* The exploitation of our culture never stops…
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Is it Possible to Have What You Want and What You Need?
PRESS PLAY!!!
I've been wanting to post to my blog lately, but with the stresses of life, I find myself unable to just find the "me" time to release. Well since my PS3 is DOA and I don't really have the bread to fix it, I guess I'm stuck with a lot of "me" time. I keep trying to ask my friends for advice as far as what I should do with my love life and getting it to where it could make me happy. I guess my homeboy put it best when he said "dude, ure doing well, you have everything a man could ever need with a woman, why are you tripping?" But I really don't want her...that's the issue. Its not that I dont wanna settle down, but when it comes to the woman I wanna spend the rest of my life with, i need her to have everything i want and be everything i need, anything less is uncivilized!
I've been wanting to post to my blog lately, but with the stresses of life, I find myself unable to just find the "me" time to release. Well since my PS3 is DOA and I don't really have the bread to fix it, I guess I'm stuck with a lot of "me" time. I keep trying to ask my friends for advice as far as what I should do with my love life and getting it to where it could make me happy. I guess my homeboy put it best when he said "dude, ure doing well, you have everything a man could ever need with a woman, why are you tripping?" But I really don't want her...that's the issue. Its not that I dont wanna settle down, but when it comes to the woman I wanna spend the rest of my life with, i need her to have everything i want and be everything i need, anything less is uncivilized!
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Black and Gold Super Bowl...A Reflection...
43 years ago, the National Football Team blessed the world with the Super Bowl and the New Orleans Saints. One has never been a let down, while the other started 5-1 in the preseason and ran the opening kick back 94-yards to the excitement of the fans at Tulane Stadium. Although the Saints would go on to lose that and the six games that followed, they would post an expansion best 3-11 season, leaving the city of New Orleans with a glimmer of hope about their newest beau. And after that promising start, the relationship between this city and its football team would be one of love and hate, probably moreso hate, the love was probably just loyalty.
My love affair with the Saints started in 1983, at a time where the “S” had fallen off and brown-paper bags were the latest in stylish headgear in New Orleans. But I was drawn to this team. Probably because it was only a 20-minute drive to see them play, and my family, except my dad, loved them, but the Saints were MY team. I wasn’t privy to the ‘Aints, I just kept on rooting for them and those better days that were sure to come. I saw glimpses of greatness with the “Cajun Cannon” and “The Dome Patrol,” I cheered when “Bless You Boys” came on, and still believed that the Saints would “Go All the Way” when I “Cha-Chinged” my way to Rally’s. But I never gave up hope.
The Saints have become so important to me that I have a Fleur-de-Lis tattooed on my calf as a symbol of New Orleans, and still remember sneaking away from my go-kart post to the party room upstairs at Celebration Station to catch the first ever playoff victory against the Rams. I couldn’t tell you how many people I “high-fived” and hugged after Az Hakim muffed that punt, but I do remember exactly where I was. Likewise I remember watching the return to New Orleans on Monday night in 2006 instead of briefing cases and how that year almost caused me to fail out of law school because the team did so well and I had to be at Woodrow’s EVERY Sunday.
And I remember last Sunday just the same, I remember how nervous I was throughout the game and how at the end of the fourth quarter and during overtime I was shaking. I’ve experienced the let downs that true Saints fans have for the past 26 years, but I still continue to pull for the home team. Then came the kick…
Surprisingly, as nervous as I was, I couldn’t take my eyes off the TV, expecting the worse but hoping for the best. Hell, this is the same guy who missed a 37-yard field goal against the Bucs with no pressure, so with the Super Bowl on the line and a 40-yard kick coming up, I knew it wasn’t a guarantee. All I could do is look up at the ceiling and speak very softly “God, u know we need this. Not the fans, not the team, but the whole city of New Orleans.” And as the kick split the uprights perfectly the tears began to fall. It’s now Wednesday after the game and I still don’t have the words to express my emotions. It was all so surreal, so dream-like, so…so…PERFECT! All I could think about was calling my dad, the #1 Saints hater and say “now what!” To call my 82 year-old Grandmother to hear the joy in her voice after waiting 43 years for this moment was just crazy. The text messages, the Facebook messages, the shots of Bourbon Street, Jim Henderson’s call; “Pigs have flown! Hell has frozen over! The Saints are going to the Super Bowl!”
For everyone who has stuck with the Saints all their lives like myself, this victory was more than just a game. For everyone who loves New Orleans and wants to see the city move to be better than we were before the storm, this was more than just a game. The naysayers contend that the Vikings gave us the game but we forced 5 turnovers, they say that we intentionally hit Favre and played dirty. Well guess what, we won and the “Brady rule” is BULLSHIT! Not to take nothing away from the Vikings, because that was still one of the greatest games ever played, period.
Thanks for the early birthday present, Saints! The only thing now is to make my dream of Drew Brees riding on a Bacchus float with the Lombardi trophy in tow come true! So where’s the party at on February 7th, New Orleans, or Miami?
WHO DAT?!
My love affair with the Saints started in 1983, at a time where the “S” had fallen off and brown-paper bags were the latest in stylish headgear in New Orleans. But I was drawn to this team. Probably because it was only a 20-minute drive to see them play, and my family, except my dad, loved them, but the Saints were MY team. I wasn’t privy to the ‘Aints, I just kept on rooting for them and those better days that were sure to come. I saw glimpses of greatness with the “Cajun Cannon” and “The Dome Patrol,” I cheered when “Bless You Boys” came on, and still believed that the Saints would “Go All the Way” when I “Cha-Chinged” my way to Rally’s. But I never gave up hope.
The Saints have become so important to me that I have a Fleur-de-Lis tattooed on my calf as a symbol of New Orleans, and still remember sneaking away from my go-kart post to the party room upstairs at Celebration Station to catch the first ever playoff victory against the Rams. I couldn’t tell you how many people I “high-fived” and hugged after Az Hakim muffed that punt, but I do remember exactly where I was. Likewise I remember watching the return to New Orleans on Monday night in 2006 instead of briefing cases and how that year almost caused me to fail out of law school because the team did so well and I had to be at Woodrow’s EVERY Sunday.
And I remember last Sunday just the same, I remember how nervous I was throughout the game and how at the end of the fourth quarter and during overtime I was shaking. I’ve experienced the let downs that true Saints fans have for the past 26 years, but I still continue to pull for the home team. Then came the kick…
Surprisingly, as nervous as I was, I couldn’t take my eyes off the TV, expecting the worse but hoping for the best. Hell, this is the same guy who missed a 37-yard field goal against the Bucs with no pressure, so with the Super Bowl on the line and a 40-yard kick coming up, I knew it wasn’t a guarantee. All I could do is look up at the ceiling and speak very softly “God, u know we need this. Not the fans, not the team, but the whole city of New Orleans.” And as the kick split the uprights perfectly the tears began to fall. It’s now Wednesday after the game and I still don’t have the words to express my emotions. It was all so surreal, so dream-like, so…so…PERFECT! All I could think about was calling my dad, the #1 Saints hater and say “now what!” To call my 82 year-old Grandmother to hear the joy in her voice after waiting 43 years for this moment was just crazy. The text messages, the Facebook messages, the shots of Bourbon Street, Jim Henderson’s call; “Pigs have flown! Hell has frozen over! The Saints are going to the Super Bowl!”
For everyone who has stuck with the Saints all their lives like myself, this victory was more than just a game. For everyone who loves New Orleans and wants to see the city move to be better than we were before the storm, this was more than just a game. The naysayers contend that the Vikings gave us the game but we forced 5 turnovers, they say that we intentionally hit Favre and played dirty. Well guess what, we won and the “Brady rule” is BULLSHIT! Not to take nothing away from the Vikings, because that was still one of the greatest games ever played, period.
Thanks for the early birthday present, Saints! The only thing now is to make my dream of Drew Brees riding on a Bacchus float with the Lombardi trophy in tow come true! So where’s the party at on February 7th, New Orleans, or Miami?
WHO DAT?!
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