THE HATE HAS RELOCATED!!!

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XXLMag.com | Negro Please: R. Kelly Walks?!

"We find the defendant [Robert Kelly] not guilty of all charges and counts therein.” – A jury of his peers It’s 7 o’clock in the morning and the rays from the sun wake me. Yesterday was Father’s Day, that special Sunday in June I usually completely forget. In the hood, most of us try to reflect on good-for-nothing, sack-of-shit skeet-and-run artists we’ve never known. R. Kelly got to reminisce on the good old days when he could drink a gallon of water, wait 20 minutes and have the booty-butt naked 8th grader in his den come upstairs and ask “Daddy” for help in the “shower.” Sheeeeeit! These CNN talking heads crossed swords and busted two nuts apiece watching that sex tape. They say what they will about it being blurry... and all black people looking alike, but they loved every “disgusting” minute of it. (Continue reading "XXLMag.com Negro Please: R. Kelly Walks?!")

Happy Trails, Big Mike!

As the sun sets on a Hall of Fame career capped off with the sweetest of cherries, true and loyal Giant fans reflect and appreciate a nigga who often appeared lager than life. Thanks for everything and good luck, big homie. We finally got that championship together. We'll always love you. We told you about messin wit' them white girls.

XXLMag.com | Negro Please: Weezy The Anti-Drug?

“I don’t drink alcohol. I never did like the taste of it… I’mma be the dude in the club drinking the most sweetest drink just ‘cause I care about what it tastes like. I feel you have to be a certain high or on a certain level to not even care what something tastes like and I don’t get to that point. Other than that, music’s my drug… I am the ultimate high… I could just look in the mirror or just cut on one of my songs or anything. I just feel myself. Look at me, you know? Yeah.” –Lil’ Wayne, BET’s Blueprint.

The above quotation is in response to Big Tigger asking Lil’ Weeziana about his “relationship with drugs and alcohol.” Strangely enough, Dr. Carter’s safe negro rhetoric comes long after his said “relationship” with the hot white girl has been put out there worse than Landon [Bobby, jr.] Brown’s.

Come on. We family, right XXL? Everybody here got a cousin or an auntie or a pops on that shit. Dwayne’s been crying out for help on record for years now. Nigga got the interview fodder to match. We gotta call bullshit when he goes on national TV trying to tell us we ain’t seen what we done saw and heard what we done heard.

It’s always the farthest-gone case that’ll try to slap that on that Vaseline, that one cheap-ass suit they got from the African spot, NOT shower, throw on that Mary J. Blige shit and tell you he won’t change his life. His life’s just fine.

Since Wayne’s got some change, he can try to cover it up with a bathing ape and some jewelry. Oh, and tattoos. Lots and lots of tattoos.

Welcome to Weezy’s online intervention.

(Continue reading "XXLMag.com | Negro Please: Weezy The Anti-Drug")

XXLMag.com | Negro Please: Yung Berg's Backward Boxers

“You could fuck up a man’s happy home. It might be one of them dudes you talk about in the book that wears his boxers on backwards every damn day, getting hit in the ass, but he probably still got a wife and kids and you might fuck up his life.” -Yung Berg, SOHH.com If you go to Big Green, you’ve more than likely seen this video plastered in the background of whatever you were actually there to ingest. Terrence “Superhead” Dean’s new tell-all “Hiding in Hip-Hop…” has obviously ruffled some feathers in our beloved, hallowed rap game. In a rapper fried rice panel discussion Nelly, David Banner, Chingy and our winner, Yung Berg all give their thoughts on the book and its potential repercussion. (Continue reading "XXLMag.com Negro Please: Yung Berg's Backward Boxers")

XXLMag.com | Negro Please: Kimora's Spoiled Milk

“When you get married, you’re forced to drink the milk long after it’s spoiled.” – Kimora Lee [Simmons?], GIANT Magazine Hmmmm. I guess if you ask Russell to buy a gallon of rare and priceless African gorilla milk, you’d best be drinkin that shit before the expiration date.

So… Kimora’s calling Russell the spoiled milk? While he admittedly looks like some shit that just hatched a few minutes ago, there’s no excuse for that level of disrespect. Not only did this man put you on his meal plan like a mmmmmotherfucker, homie was already beginning to curdle when you started sippin.

(Continue reading "XXLMag.com Negro Please: Kimora's Spoiled Milk")

XXLMag.com | Negro Please: Diddy Sees Dr. Carter

Diddy Blog! Diddy Blog!

When y’all hear “Diddy Blog” ya’ll niggas need to stop what ya’ll doin and go get me some Cambodian breast milks.

(Continue reading "XXL Mag.com | Negro Please: Diddy Sees Dr. Carter")

XXLMag.com | Negro Please: Bobby Brown Swagger-Jacked

“I watched one of Usher’s shows and he basically did my whole show. It was as if it was me on stage. The thing about it is, I love seeing that. It’s a compliment to me as a performer . . . I think you take parts of whoever is the hottest act of that era and you incorporate that into your own style. It’s just like taking buttermilk, eggs and corn meal, you whip it up bake it and you have cornbread.” –Bobby Brown, Bobby Brown: The Truth and Nothing But The Truth…

You whip it up and you have cornbread? No Arm & Hammer? No slow simmer?

The Kang of R&B (rocks & blunts) gets the “Negro, Please” right off the bat for pretending he knows the recipe to anything other than that sweet base.

By the way, I think you taste egg and cinnamon.

(Continue reading "XXLMag.com | Negro Please: Bobby Brown Swagger-Jacked")

Magic Johnson KFC Commercial

I bet he blamed the chicken, too. I don't know. It's well-documented that Magic was pretty damn skanktastic back in them days. I wouldn't have been so eager to share in his chicken bounty before he sprayed his VD napalm all over the gym. It's also no secret how I feel about Magic, though. If I had my way, the nigga would replace Colonel Sanders on the bucket.

Here... XXL! XXL!

...I'll even write a couple myself. I'll be rocking at XXL on the daily. Here's the gracious on-site introduction from my new massa, Carl "Jackpot" Chery. First of all I wanna thank my connect. The most important Haitian with all due respect. Y'all don't think we puttin this little championship team together? Negroes, please! Thanks to all of you who've been keeping close this past year! All the downtime is finally about to be worth it.

Kool-Aid Niggaball commercial

...and the niggas actually chant "Kool-Aid" at the end! This here ain't all hate. Good to see Escalade getting some work outside of the AND 1 tour. I know that nigga's in there. Only him and Oliver Miller are the only niggas alive who could through an alley-oop at that size. I shouldn't be surprised that Kool-Aid would have the balls to take it here. I've watched their ad campaign descend slowly into the pit of blackberry molasses that is The Negro Channel's evening viewership. These niggas are unscrupulous. For the past 20 years everyone's been pretty conscious about a certain white powder that ravaged the black community. Unfortunately crack took all of the heat when it should have shared some of that spotlight. The 5lb. bag of Domino sugar negroes mix into a quart of water hasn't gotten its due. This Kool-Aid shit is almost single-handedly responsible for the BDP movement. No, I haven't finally lost my churros. Kool Aid didn't produce "The Bridge Is Over." "BDP" is our latest installment to the slanguistics glossary and stands for "Black Diabetes Pandemic." If you don't believe me, I've spent countless hours in the lab and I've come up with the molecular formula for this sweet scourge of our people. [(1 packet Kool-Aid + 1 5lb. bag sugar)/day] X [all your natural life] = BDP Look at the commercial again. Pay particular attention to that poor little carjacker-to-be with the free-flowing 'fro. Little niggas out here worship the Kool-Aid. I'm pleased with the fact that these youngsters universally ignore Al Sharpton, but we've gotta be a little more careful still who we designate as role models.

Dockers "California Soul" Commercial

How these niggas gonna use Marlena Shaw's "California Soul" for a Dockers commercial featuring nothing but white people doing the least soulful shit imaginable? I'm sure Marlena ain't complaining, but damn... Can we get a nigga pop-lockin' or something? The disparity in this ad is staggering. What next? Paul Simon in a Popeye's commercial? Nah, I ain't frontin on Uncle Paulie. But all my official, thorough-like hood niggas know Garfunkel kept him funky.

Hark, Ye Wicked Overseer

that is all. R.I.P. Sean Bell

Why Beautiful Women Marry Less Attractive Men

This hurr be some crap I stumbled on from Yahoo! News via Live Science.

I think this and many articles like it are bullshit. They're usually based on bullshit studies by bullshit researchers. I found this one to be no different, and it made a world of sense when I discovered the name of the lead researcher. (Read the fourth paragraph, lazy negroes.)

Seriously. Who decided that homeboy should be regarded as a credible authority on relationships?

"Blah, blah, blah... Ugly niggas with chunky bankrolls... Blah, blah, blah..." My opinion on the matter... Shit, don't women outnumber men like 1.5:1 or something? There's just not enough quality pipe out there. Beyonces have to marry Jiggas. It bees like that sometimes.

Sofia Vergara Cadillac Commercial

Click here to watch Sofia stumble through this shit like the oral section of the ESL Final Exam. Word, Sofi? Cupholders? That's maybe because they haven't yet polled a Latina whose boyfriend makes her help him in the garage/weed spot he works at. "Mariana... Traeme un.. un-- socket wrench!" Her cupholder would be her son, Chucho. I don't give a damn. I'd be on it like Tyrese in "Four Brothers." She can chase papi wherever she damn well pleases.

Ron Mexico City: The Lost Hate - "Saaphyri's Lip Chap"

All the flavors of her love give you diabetes. This is definitely what Mo'nique was talking about in "Charm School." Go out there and be somebody! "Want some lip chap... on your African soupbone?" Damn, Kennedy. How far we've fallen from MTV Spring Break. I thought that $50,000 was gonna change her life. Didn't she say she wasn't gonna have to do this kind of shit anymore? I guess that money was just enough to buy her freedom back from Goldie Mack. The rest obviously went to a bag of cush, a tub of bees wax, some Kool-Aid packets, "good" socks and booty shorts. Diggin' the socks, though. *head exploding* Ingredients: chicken grease, red kool-aid, beeswax, man mustard, hot sauce The shit's all-natural, bro. P.S.: Red Grant will appear in your baby shower video for a plate.

Memphis Excels In Niggaball After Jesse Jackson Visit

Seriously... Little ghetto children across the planet. This shit right here... This is why we practice our free throws. We don't want some CBS Sports intern talking about you like Hatian refugees. Such pity in his voice. I can't totally blame Brother Jesse for Memphis' historic inability to hit free throws. He did what he does. I'm just saying if they wanted to introduce that group of impressionable black mens to an example of anti-recidivism... You know... Mr. Maury Show here ain't the man. They need to introduce them kids to Peewee Kirkland or some shit. Niggaball generally refers to a lack of fundamentals. Yes, it's true. We're big, fast as fuck and can jump out of the gym. Unfortunately, for this reason we skate by on talent and rhythm for as long as the environment or medium will allow. Famous Niggaballers include but are by no means limited to: Hot Sauce; God Shammgod; Jason "White Chocolate" Williams; World B. Free; Duane Martin (in "Above The Rim"); Eli Manning; Stephon Marbury; His Bum-Ass Cousin; Darius Miles and Khalid El-Amin. Homegirl read that shit like she was narrating a damn GED video, right? Seriously, John Calipari. Who's knocking down the corner jumpers on your AND 1 Memphis Open Run team? When I looked up and down that bench and saw nothing but chocolate rain, I had a feeling they would meet their end this way. Keep a white boy on the end of the bench. Even if he can't shoot, you can always toss him out there as a decoy. Carry on my wayward sons.

Flavor Flav: "Under One Roof" trailer

I may have finally grown disenchanted enough with the "Flavor of Love" franchise to abstain from watching it even for the sake of recapping it. But lightning strike my black ass if I ain't interested than a motherfucker in this: Always great when we get a reminder that MY9 still got some UPN in 'em. The network has long since lost me in the sea of supernatural privileged white bitches with problems. Actually, they lost me at "Homeboys in Outer Space." But respect to the network staying loyal to Flex and finally breaking him off with "One on One." I'll bet that kid likes "Snakes on a Plane." He looks like Kel's hopelessly gay little brother they never talk about. On the subject of siblings ne'er spoken of and network loyalty to Flex, pay special attention when homie says "the show went a different direction." Translation: Flex caught the Judy Winslow, son. Sorry. "One on One's" the best segue I got to "Under One Roof" straight-man, Kelly Perrine. Okay, I'm kidding. It's the only segue I got to Kelly Perrine. Sadly enough, this time around Kelly sounds like he's warning unsuspecting white people of imminent danger instead of pitching an exciting new sitcom. Whoever wrote/developed/pitched this shit has to feel what Damon Wayans was feeling halfway through "Bamboozled." Kadeem Hardison don't feel shit but happy as hell that he came up on some work. "I can't believe we got Kadeem Hardison!" Crackheads tend to overvalue shit (i.e.: the PS3 you bought from one for $20). I guess Flavor can't tell, but Kadeem lookin hurt. Never more than now has it been so painfully obvious how badly this nigga fucked up lettin Chante Moore go to that light-skinned nigga Kenny Lattimore. I guess if they worked with light-skinned Ron from "A Different World," Dwayne Wayne's number is in that Rolodex somewhere. So UPN/my9 somehow couldn't find a way to squeese Marques Houston into this? Shit. That preemptively murders my hope to find Chris Brown toe-wopping about in an episode somewhere along the line. Pierre Lecroix be damned. Let me get this straight. We've got Flavor Flav as an ex-con. Dig it. Kelly Perinne is the tight-ass, smarty-art nigga. Dig it. What the fuck is Dwaaaaaayne supposed to be? The past-his-prime intramural athlete? The loveable and witty strip mall pimp? Michael Bivins? I know I ain't missin the first episode of this shit. I don't know about anything past that. However, I do know that success or not, the network's gonna suck the life out of Flavor Flav and leave him in the gutter like a spent condom the same way they did Flex.

AT&T Basketball Coon Commercial

Just shooting baskets for the whiteys... I mean "townies." Damn, Chuck. Ain't this about some fake-ass Dave Chappelle shit? Now all we need is for the black pixie to come bring him a tray of chicken wings. I can see the ad exec at AT&T gettin shut down right now: "Umm, Mr. Chappelle. We want you for a national commercial spot. *pause* Yeah. Real simple. You're gonna shoot some baskets and make those wacky Chappelle noises in a bar full of normal bar patrons. You know. Regular people... *long pause* Oh, no? Okay then. Zippety doo-dah. Bye-bye." ...and Oprah didn't understand a nigga's perspective. Come on, Chuck. Wiggle it like Tyrone Biggums!

Manny Ramirez Finally Set to Purchase Dominican Republic From Sammy Sosa; Has Plans For Development

By Ronaldo Horacio Mexico, Dissociated Press Writer TOKYO - After hoisting up the oversize check reluctantly handed to him by Ninja Warrior announcer, Keisuke Hatsuta, Manny Ramirez gave three different answers to the inquiry of what he planned to do with the 1 million yen. Today he reveals he was only "playing cover-up." What was thought to be another case of language barrier and sub-standard George Washington High School education has now proven to be Ramirez's attempt at something he'd never yet tried given his perpetually candid public persona. Until today, Ramirez avoided disclosing both his true agenda and reason for so hastily accepting the monetary award for MVP of the 2008 MLB season opener against the Oakland Athletics Tuesday morning. "I can finally buy the rest of the Dominican Republic now." Worth roughly $10,000.00 USD, and clearly intended for Japanese hurler and Boston Red Sox starting pitcher Daisuke Matsuzaka, the check serves as the final plantain in the mangu bowl of cash Ramirez has been compiling over the past several years. As of the giant check's inclearing this morning, Ramirez is ready to purchase the majority stake in his homeland from a group of investors that includes several current and former major leaguers as well as a few respected bachateros. "I figure I be smart with my money, you know?" Ramirez continued. "I could go back to 181[st Street in Manhattan] and get a big bag of [purple] haze, or I could do this." Most directly affected by the move is current majority owner, Sammy Sosa, who owns slightly less than a third of the southern shore and a small island he re-named "Tato," which is local slang that loosely translates to "alright." Sosa would not return telephone calls from media outlets seeking his reaction to Ramirez's imminent acquisition. "Maybe his phone get cut off?" Ramirez replied smugly as he stuffed his bleached and dreadlocked mane into a red, white and blue knit-wool cap, "I hear he having money problems. That's too bad." Fellow Dominican shareholder Pedro Martinez had nothing but well-wishes for the new majority owner. In a telephone interview from Port St. Lucie, Martinez offered congratulations and insight into plans for development on the island. "Hopefully he can bring us some more cars, pave some more roads and maybe finally build the canal we've been trying to put in place for a long time." Martinez is, of course, referring to the long-discussed canal that would finally divide the island of Hispanola lengthwise, separating the Dominican Republic and Haiti by a kilometer-wide channel of ocean water. Los Angeles Angels outfielder Vladimir Guerrero, also Dominican and a staunch opponent to the hotly-debated "SIDA 'Pa 'Fuera" bill, offered the following regarding building of the canal. "It's guys like Manny who smoke a pound of herb each week, don't share, have unprotected sex with everyone within penis-length and teach the kids to do the same that are to blame," Guerrero clamored through an interpreter. "A guy like him only need look a generation or two back to find a relative from the other side of the island he hates so much. It's not ancient history for him!"

Optimum Online/Cablevision - "Reggaeton Triple Play" Commercial

Before I let go... This ain't nothin new, but it bothers me more and more every time. I knew Reggaeton as genre-du-jour would fade pretty quckly, but damn... how Don Omar and Daddy Yankee have fallen. It seems like only yesterday I was giving half of Washington Heights my "gasolina." This bout some shameless shit. For those of you who don't speaka de spanny, let me translate: "You can call the haze dealer/ on his Boost Mobile./ [indiscernible. puta?] Save money for plantains." This one cuts to the chase in English. As if non-Latinos needed to be exposed to this. Maybe I shouldn't hold Optimum Online to such a high standard. This is, after all, the same company (Cablevision) that has run the Knicks into the pegboy of professional sports. I'd rather watch Ninja Warrior on my couch than a Knick game courtside. Oh, shit! They should put Nate Robinson in these commercials! Fuck a Sir Charge. Let Lil '50 holler at them bitchmade Verison niggas.

Secret Wire Tap Used In Governor Spitzer Sex Investigation

By Ronaldo Horacio Mexico, Dissociated Press Writer ALBANY - Until earlier this morning, newly-deposed New York Governor Eliot Spitzer had no idea how his paper trail had been followed so meticulously without even the slightest of indication to himself or his staff. State Detectives Lester Freamon and James McNulty provided a bit of clarity for the disgraced official in a media session today. "Well, we've been on his money trail for some time now," Freamon told a slew of reporters on hand at the Albany State House. "It took a lot of effort and particular attention to detail to bring this one in. Fortunately for us and the people of New York, the State Police Department provided everything we needed in a timely fashion to keep our wire tap alive. I'm grateful to work in a department that is entirely devoted to police work." Detective Freamon's comment has been perceived to be a thinly-veiled stab at the noted incompetence of he and McNulty's previous employer, the Baltimore Police Department. "We're not here to talk about that. If anything I owe the city of Balitmore my career. Working there for nearly a decade gave me the tactical experience to do my job here with the New York State Police," McNulty deflected. "I'll gladly answer any question about the investigation at hand. Those who abuse their power and the trust of their constituency deserve reprecussion. They don't get to win. We get to win." The arrest and emergence of details surrounding the case come as a surprise to most as it is common knowledge that the department's top priority has been counter-terrorism. The now seven-year-long initiative has absorbed nearly eighty percent of the departmental operations budget. Even the newly-deposed governor was taken aback. "Sheeeeeeeeeeit!" Spitzer lamented while making his way out of the State House for the last time as head magistrate. "I don't even know where they got the funding or the manpower to listen to my calls and watch the women. I'm at a loss for words at this time." Spitzer's clammed tongue isa recent development as sordid details of his exchanges with various sex workers have been made public. Through transcripts the one-time Attorney General is depicted as a vocal and aggressive sexual deviant whose requests included unprotected sex and fecal play. "The great irony comes in that a man known almost exclusively for his pursuit of the abuse of funds designated for municipal use could be mired in a scandal of this nature," added political analyst and Obama campaign strategist A Pimp Named Slickback. "Still there's a matter of far greater importance at hand. We can't be havin niggas out on the streets forcing hoes into raw dog situations like that. That's bad for everyone." As a disgraced Eliot Spitzer leaves the State House, history will be made this week as Lieutenant Governor David A. Paterson is expected to be sworn in as New York's governor for the remainder of the current term. Of course, the first question they ask a nigga is if he had any invovlement in the skeet-flavored fuckery staining the chair he is slated to assume. "I didn't see shit," Paterson assured.

Kenard Just Fuckin Wit Em, Mane!

Apparently, Spider. Kenard and Bug on Chris Partlow's favorite morning show! I must say, this shit is freaking me out. This kid was last seen setting a cat on fire. We'll get to that proper-like soon.

Flavor of Love 3: "Bigger, Blacker & Skankier"

Do you all realize how much time we've spent on the Flavor Flav reality franchise? Not even including his season of "The Surreal Life" and "Strange Love," we've seen a 2 "Flavor of Love" installments, 2 seasons of "I Love New York" and a "Charm School" for the castaways. I'm really all Flavored-out. That's a lifetime's worth of coonery crammed into a few short years. I don't know why I didn't think stooch harvest could get any skankier than the Season 2 crop. Following recent market trends in reality ho television, I should have assumed the greasiest of project lobby boppers would find their way to the VH1 casting couch. I'm sorry for keeping you guys waiting so long to dig into them. Let's get into it. In honor of Black History Month (and Blent in my case) Flavor decides to "empower" the contestants by allowing them to choose their own nicknames this season. Much like the 40 acres and mule we've never seen, this chewed-up California Raisin far from keeps his promise. Only the light-skinned ones that work in the house get to keep their names. Speaking of slaves, it's nice to see that John Thompson-lookin molestin-ass Big Rick back. Ah, we laugh for a second, and then it hurts. I refuse to learn and [im]properly spell most of these names (i.e.: "Myammeeee"), so this season you're gonna have to just ride with me. I might just describe them by physical attributes or what I think they should be referred to as. Why is Flavor frontin like the big white woman ain’t the black man’s fantasy? I'm not saying it's mine, but every time I go to the mall I see Jamal walking down the strip holding hands with a girl just like Peechee but not even as cute. Jamal's smiling his ass off too like he just came up on a lifetime's supply of pork rinds. Maybe he did. I can tell the twins apart. One of them looks like she got hit in the mouth with a hot tire iron. Sadly, that's the one with the tighter body. Historically Flavor has shown that he doesn't discriminate on the othrodontically challenged. His doing so would be the pot calling the kettle "nigger" anyway. I don't know if I could rock with being referred to as a "Thing," but hey... you're already a Flavor of Love contestant. You might as well roll with whatever Nickelodeon slime they toss down on your head. Hotlanta is actually one of the cutest girls on the program. She's been through some shit, obviously, but she cleans up pretty nice. She's got 3 kids at home she's neglecting for this and she's one of my early horses. I'm gonna count Mylanta AKA "My Mama Was On Flavor of Love" as a top 5 player. My homie Diablo straight up called this next one. When Tik hit the screen wearing all them damn Swatches my nigga said: "Bitch lookin like Roz from 'Night Court.'" That's why I fucks with this nigga. He's the only nigga I know besides CBW who could beat me to a Marsha Warfield reference. I know Tik had to eat a lot of fucking Honey Nut Cheerios and send in a LOT of UPCs for all 30 of them watches she got hanging on for dear life by the last latch. Speaking of early references, before we got to parlay it ourselves, the producers and editors made sure to give us the "Shy" and New York comparison. First of all, Shy is a horseyface. You might rub up on her in a dark nightclub when you're ripped off of Incredible Hulk, but not in broad daylight and shit. I bet she really is "a fresh of breath air" like she says, though. She just looks like she got that chronic Newport breath. On the alone time tip, Rayna really tried to bullshit Flavor. He may have had himself a few coketails, but damn... I'm sure he remembers why he wears that effin clock. Bitch pulled a Damon Wayans in prison on "In Living Color." I went to school with a girl just like that. I could imagine before English class, she'd be in the bathroom just chanting to herself in the mirror. "Belieeeeeeeve the bullshit. Belieeeeeeve the bullshit." Couch time got a little cozy with the Oompa Loompas. I'll tell you what, Peechee had her big girl game ON. I gotta give her respect for having the courage to spit it like Flavor was any other dude she was diggin. What's up with Seesinz's voice? I bet you this girl is an R&B singer. If not, she just got herself a wicked portfolio piece for voiceover work. Shy, whose voice works over my nerves, needs to quickly learn that snitchin is a successful strategy on I Love New York… not Flavor of Love. Why did all of these hoes have a damn rap for Flavor? Grayvee’s weave is terrible and she looks like a dude I know. I hear her rappin about the titties. Foofy need to listen out for verse two where she talk about the dick. She also might have some ulterior motive for being on the show. I think she's working or KFC or some kind of chicken sponsor. Nigga fuck around and come back with that bird flu. I didn't wanna be too hard on Ice for stumbling on words. He's not exactly working with MENSA members here. Vanilla Ice might just be a “I don’t know” type of person. You know. Like how niggas start off every sentence with “nome sane?” I don't expect much more from a Detroit radio personality. Elimination Notes: I guess the damn twins do count as one contestant. I was wondering about that. The funny thing is, he chose the one with the fucked up teeth first! Nigga is gonna have to start doing gum checks like back on the auction block. This is a crazy precedent, letting Skeezle Dee and Skeezle Dum share a chain. I wonder how this continues to play out. Yes, Peechee. You're going home. Yes, Peechee. Your purpose is to go make BBW porn. Don't worry. There's a black guy out there for you somewhere. To the internet winners: Just because you had your whole housing project voting for you at the library doesn’t mean you deserve to be there. The funny shit is that Flavor really believed the internet fans "loved" him. I guess he's too high on that shit to know that NO ONE LOVES HIM!!!! There's usually a surprise cast-off on the first episodes of these things. There damn sure was not this time. Internet bitches, big bitches and underbite bitches all must go. Crazy ass Tik fulfilled Flavor's big girl quota. I'm picking Bee-Ex as my early favorite. She makes the most sense early on. Though i'd test drive the Bunz on the way. Prancer looks like a lame-ass Holly Robinson and could pull the Hoopz on homie. He ain't too bright. Looks like I'll be able to take a week off at some point this season as the hoes are gonna roast each other! I can't wait. We'll get caught up with the "Playin' Doctor" episode ASAP.

The Boondocks: "The Story of Gangstalicious 2"

"Do the homie! Do the homie!" - Gangstalicious When you do your homie, I'd hope you do it right. I'm familiar with the premise of "bros before hoes." I only recognize it as something I'd hear from a frat boy at a house party when the bong is going around, but still, I'm familiar with the premise. I'm pretty sure the term "hoes" refers to women en masse as opposed to stripwalkers and stooch vendors, but then we're just engaging a debate of semantics. Homies over hoes? Sounds like some gay shit to me either way. I'd say we've certainly witnessed a Top 5 episode of the Boondocks in this one. Pushing the Gangstalicious envelope a bit further and tackling the rampant homophobia in the hip-hop community, McGruder makes some pertinent observations through fictional old-school rappers MC Slob-A-Knob & Homo D. The ever-increasing influence the homoerotic worlds of prison and fashion have on hip-hop should bring us all closer to witnessing our first openly gay rapper. You know your cousin Rodney who did that 5-stretch on the weapons charge? Yeah... you know his "partner" he stay talkin about? Alright. That's the dude he ummm... turned to when times got tough in the bing. As Edgar the Mexican pointed out, strangely enough, The G-Unit wifebeaters that look like third grade girls' undershirts won't be sold anymore. That's quite the coincidence in the wake of this second installment of "The Story of Gangstalicious." Unfortunately, the gays can design our wifebeaters but can't partake in our artform and culture as first-class citizens of hip-hop. No matter how many clothing lines rappers put their money into, our society hasn't evolved to the point where a male hip-hop star could come out of the closet and maintain his stature. The bigotry is just too strong. The episode was hilarious on many levels, but hurt to watch. I was particularly stricken by the image of Robert and Riley (dressed like a prison bitch) in that teary embrace trying to come to terms with the potential reality of a young black man discovering that he is indeed "gay." "Fortunately" for Robert, Riley isn't full-blown, "suck a cock" gay. He's only gay by association. Question: Is McGruder accusing D4L of maybe rocking the DSL? Maybe just take away the "4?" Mos Def defintiely spit "Homies Over Hoes" to the "Laffy Taffy" instrumental.

The Boondocks: "The Story of Catcher Freeman"

"Don't trust them new niggers is not a Negro spiritual!" - Huey Freeman The same incredible grandma-nana I refer to in the "S"-word column also happens to be pretty damn fair-skinned. I'm blacker than black (and I'm black, y'all). The Freemans appear to be that caramel complexion, as Tom DuBois would say. We're all black enough to count as three-fifths of a vote. We're also all black enough to be ignored by a taxi. However, it's undeniable that some of us have a little cream in the genetic coffee. I acknowledge this and hope with all of my heart that none of you discriminate against me on account of my ailment. When I asked Nana Mexico why I was so dark and she was so light, she blamed the sun instead of telling me the horrible truth. Though Massa denied in public, he totally brought himself to bone her grandmother. Of course, Nana Mexico's grandfather beheaded ole Massa and liberated the entire Virginia plantation 'cuz we ain't no bitch niggas. In addition, if Ronnie were born he would have told Massa to suck his dick and bale his own motherfuckin cotton. Wouldn't have let that slavery shit happen to me, though. While never as eloquently worded as say, "Pudd'nhead Wilson", the oral tradition remains the most effective means of communicating family history in the black community. Of course, this is primarily because there isn't much documentation of whatever family we've had since Plymouth Rock landed on us. If we want to read about who mammied and pappied who, we'd have to check the sales receipts. Much like the telephone game, we always manage to fuck something up in translation. Whether it's the size of your grandfather's dick or the ever-increasing number of Klansmen he choked out with his bare hands, details get embellished worse than Oprah's weight loss figures. That's not to say that anything your folks tell you came from ignorantmonkeyshit.com, though. Much love to Donald Faison for his role as "the house negro." Glad to see he could keep his face out of Zach Braff's taint long enough to lay down some vocals on the McGruder set.

The Wire Season 5: "The Wire... Back On Tap"

By Ronaldo Horacio Mexico, Dissociated Press Staff Writer NEW YORK - After over three entire calendar years, the star whose namesake is the series title has finally returned to the program. After being written out of the plot, The Wire returns with a slight twist. "I'm kinda dirty now," Wire told Ron Mexico City this morning. "I like the direction my character has taken. I didn't want to come back if it was going to be the same old bullshit, you know?" It's not the way we're used to seeing it. There's no Freamon and Prezbo screening the "pertinents" and "non-pertinents." There's no Sydnor on the roof with a camera or buying 20 rocks. This time the shit's for keeps. "When Wood [Harris] came back to the show before I did, I was a little hurt. But I realize now it's for the best." Wire also revealed to RMC that his favorite character is Omar, but kept hush about the scar-faced jizzguzzler's fate. ----------------- I'm not sure if the opening sequence was drenched with Marlo Stanfield's bad acting or Jaime Hector's. It is strange to see Marlo convey any emotion, let alone happiness. I'm just not sure if it was intentional for Marlo to look insincere, or if Mr. Hector just didn't nail it down. I don't think we'll ever know. Jimmy's still working the paperboys like end-of-the-bar hoes at 3:15. In the process he caught Templeton trying to shit a shitter. Temp's fake call gave McNulty just enough to bring back the crowd-favorite, Wire. After having putting Levy in his Fave 5 knowing for damn well that Herc lost his job over the infamous camera, how could Marlo not have the foresight to think that Herc would try to fuck with him somehow? "That's the cell phone number of the motherfucker that put 22 bodies on us!" - Freamon The shit is so tasty, Cool Lester Smooth had a Sam Jackson moment. Mmm-mmmmmm, bitch! I apologize about my calling the State's Attorney "Bell" when his name is "Bond," and that nigga's looking pretty damn mayoral. Clay Davis is not going down without a play. Luckily for him, Jimmy is knocking him off the front page. Norrice had to put Mr. Sheeeeeit in his place with all of that kicking and screaming nonsense he was talking. Gangsters don't roll. They work on a new play. Usually at the Beacon Theater with Stephanie Mills. "The fuck is this I hear about you might not stand tall on this?" - Clarence Royce They had to box him in, but it looks like he's on board to stand tall. That's not to say, of course, he's still not going to go down swinging. Glad to see Bubbles back and still on the path. Too bad he still hasn't gotten over his AIDS guilt. As his mentor tells him, "Shame ain't worth as much as you think." Speaking of shame, I'm a little ashamed at the behavior of a fan-favorite. Omar walked right into Marlo's rat trap to take the cheese. He lost his Jim Brown-ass homeboy and everything. Was he blinded by revenge? How did he not assume that setup was a trap? If he didn't... How the fuck did he think just 2 dudes was gonna get the job done? How does Omar survive a 5-story fall? Does he survive a 5-story fall? Did he even fall? So many fucking questions. Tune in next time on "The Adventures of Lil' Omar!"

I Guess Plaxico Was Wrong

...not by much, though. I just can't believe they had this commercial ready to go for last night. Hakuna Matata, bitches. We got a lot to discuss this week.

The Boondocks: "The 'S' Word"

Whattup, spearchuckers? The great humor of all comes in the paradox that older people who, like Robert Freeman prostrate before news cameras, describe the "n"-word in any variation as hurtful. Yet, no one uses the term more than an old black person. My grandma nana'nem from Virginia. She could easily trace her roots a couple of generations back to the plantation. She grew up in the 1930s as a sharecropper before the hooch train dropped her off in Harlem. She also leads our family in NPS (Niggas Per Sentence) average. She does so by a wide margin. I'm creeping towards it, but I'm like Jason Kidd to her Oscar Robertson in terms of the triple doubles. In other words, I didn't learn that shit from hoodrats in the street or children at school. I learned it from grandma nana. Remembering the way she used to call pop-pop (or anyone else) a "nigga" in her saucy, hostile southern drawl still lights up my life. No one could do it quite like she did. She was my nigga, mane. As far as hilarious particulars go, how funny was the teacher running down the hip-hop "nigga" discography? As he ran them off I felt like I was in a scavenger hunt. I was one "nigga" short of Bingo! I had "Real Nigga Quotes" in the "G" column. As Ruckus explained, the racial slurs are in dire need of a fresh rotation. Regardless of what you may think of the "n"-word, it doesn't incur the same ire it once did. "Porch monkey" will always be my all-time favorite. The shit is hilarious. If a white person ever called me that, I'd laugh my ass of before I broke his nose. A special shoutout to Cee-Lo Green as the classic charlatan. Fuck Al Sharpton. Fuck Jesse. Fuck Farrakhan. Fuck The Negro Channel. Fuck Ann Coulter, Queen of the Desert... even if she fucks with these crab cakes. Who the fuck did her fucking voice? And oh, yeah... fuck. That's the "f"-word, spearchuckers. Does anyone remember this scenario the episode derives from? The teacher had the signs and everything. It was hilarious. Any thoughts?

Roy Hibbert Actually Patrick Ewing's Son

By Ronaldo Horacio Mexico, Dissociated Press Writer NEW YORK - A star-crossed meeting with the St. John's Red Tampons took a strange turn for Georgetown star center, Roy Hibbert. On a Wednesday night at Madison Square Garden where the biggest story around the assured ass-whipping was to be the matchup of New York Knicks offspring, it was Roy Hibbert who yet again managed to take center stage. After Anthony Mason, jr. saw his Red Storm take one in the face from Georgetown, he witnessed a Hoya family reunion. "I was just about to meet my pops by the Port Authority when I overheard Pat[trick Ewing, sr.] telling Hibbert he was his daddy." recalled a visibly disturbed Mason, jr. "And it wasn't in like that 'Who's your daddy?' way. You could tell." When asked if he was surprised by what he heard, Mason, jr. sounded more surprised that he'd heard anything at all. "I can't believe he had him on speakerphone." As soon as Mason, jr. managed to break his father's hooker trance, the original Mase seized an opportunity to captialize off of his old friend and frontcourt mate. Immediately following a threatening voicemail from Mason, sr., the "Hoya Destroya" took the time to come clean following his own team's game. "Tried to get a nut and I got a nut and what." the senior Ewing told reporters after a 107-91 Orlando victory over the division rival Miami Heat. Now that the paternity situation is out in the open, Hibbert and newly-discovered brother Ewing, jr. have much to talk about. "At least one of my dad's kids is going to play in the NBA. That's a big relief to him and my mom, Rita." Ewing' jr. paused. "Okay, maybe not so much for my mom, Rita." Hibbert's deft touch around the basket and hard-fought defense more resemble Georgetown's most beloved alum than his own namesake. The 7-foot-2 center's candor with the press is what may someday set him apart. "Man, I'd love to continue in my dad's legacy now that I know what it is. I don't know if I want to rot on the Knicks and never win a championship, but I wouldn't mind being one of the 50 best when it's all said and done, you know?" Hibbert managed to bring the forced reunion full circle by outlining his love for popular NBA extracurriculars. "I like strip clubs as much as any other athlete, but again I'm glad I have a father whose mistakes I can learn from. I wouldn't mind learning that little drop step either. But no, if I hook up with a team dancer or something, I'd want someone to look to that can help me keep that kind of thing on the low." It doesn't sound like he's too concerned with the "Stay In School" initiative.

Johnte - "Red Monkey Jeans" video

Between Martin Luther King, jr. Day and the end of "Here's Your Little Ass Month, Niggers" Month lies this strangely somber period of about 40 days in which I lament excessively over the fate and status of black people. Johnte's "Red Monkey Jeans," an afterschool center session gone terribly wrong, rests firmly atop the list of shit that's particularly bothering me this Blent (Black Lent, if you will). I'm more amazed than anything at how readily we embrace various forms of Monkey Gear. We got teenage coons babbling on about their Bathing Apes. This little baboon here is in love with his Red Monkey Jeans. I don't know. I could have sworn we were trying to get away from the association with monkeys, gorillas, baboons, orangutans, marmosets and the like. While some of us may happen to look like the non-hominidae primates in question, we are not. Though we do little to prove otherwise. Am I missing something? This video looks like a surefire UnCut Classic in the making, but I saw it in broad the fuck daylight. It couldn't have been any later than noon. Somebody's uncle knew where to bring the duffel bag. You would think if he were related to a big time drug dealer (the only explanation for this shit on television before 3AM), then he wouldn't have to borrow Uncle Gutta's Spongebob jacket. That shit is at least 3 sizes too big for him. Even Spongebob knows he shouldn't be in this video. He's not sure why. He just knows something is terribly wrong. It's the reason Mr. Krabs is always pissed. This racism is killing him inside. The fuck does this kid mean when he says his teeth "color-coordinated, complimenting the jeans?" Does Johnte have a green shirt to match the green braces? Maybe a little something to compliment the rubberbands? That's it, nigga. I got it! You the Rubberband Man! Shit. Will your braces still be in when T.I. gets locked up for good this time? If so, you're fucking in there. King of Atlanta for certain. I want to take back everything I said to Yung Berg about being a JV point guard. This little shit stain is definitely on somebody's B-team bench. Speaking of ball, I see this video was obviously shot before the KG trade to Boston. Nice. Either that or homie ain't have enough allowance saved up to drop $200 on the new one. I hear the Swingman jersey is not acceptable for dancing in your buddy's music video. My ideal ending for this video would be to have the ghostriders fuck up horribly, running Johnte over, then crashing into one another causing a fatal 5-rental pileup in the high school parking lot. Then I bring a monkey to the memorial to piss and shit on their graves. "Ron, Why you gotta be so cold. He only like 15." ...Because I don't give a fuck. That's why. Plus, better he go out in a rim-related accident than have a second single that warrants President Bush finally following through on his much-milled plan to repeal the Emancipation Proclamation.

The Wire Season 5: "Thangs Done Changed"

That's a Proposition Joe moment. Alright, fuck it. Another one. He deserves it. That shit's from the super bootleg Season 4 DVD. My shit was clean than a fuck, son. Anyway... To the episode. While "Thangs Done Changed" as the late, great, notorious, glorious Big Poppa once said, shit remains the same. I'm more inclined to go with the wisdom of Solomon in that there ain't a thang new under The [Balitomore] Sun. Detective Carlicchio, or however the fuck you spell his name, invoked the spirit of Herc and Carver during Season 1. By going straight Reginald Deny on a school teacher because he was humiliated by Kenard, he reminded Carver of why every minute aspect of professional conduct matters. Besides, Carlicchio shouldn't have been talking shit to his superior officer if nothing else. The best part was that Herc even agreed with Carver at Reformed Fuck-ups Support Group [held weekly at McDougal's Pub or the Precinct parking lot (pimpin'.)] Speaking of Herc, I would have collapsed to the ground with laughter if I were Marlo after finding out what the camera cost Sgt. Hauk. The top brass counts costs as the volleyball team in command rotates once more. I would have wondered what Burrell was doing behind me with a golf club during such volatile times. I've been in a room with a drawn golf club before. The shit is not cool. While I continued to roll my blunt and play it cool, part of me wanted to rush the situation and wrap the 7-iron around that bitch-ass nigga. But I digress. City Council President Norrice promises to convince Burrell to go down quietly at a price. In exchange for culmination of her sweetheart deal with the dope lord, she'll handle that bidness for Massa Tommy. In passing, Rawls takes in some friendly advice from his esteemed predecessor, Ervin Burrell while Deputy Ops Daniels enjoys the begining of his 6-month waiting period. ...and to think Pearlman could have been fucking Jimmy McNulty. No, sir. The mandingo suits her just fine. Homegirl's name is Rhonda anyway. She probably eats neckbones and all that. "That wasn't me, Rhonda." -Tyrone Biggums Note: The mailman is Clay Davis. What's Clay Davis up to, you ask? His elbows in shit. Dealing a blow to the altruistic credibility of the pursuit of R. Clayton "Sheeeeit" Davis Strong mayoral candidate Bell doesn't want Lester to dig up the whole radish. Just enough to bury Clay Davis alone. We've already seen Norrice's ties to those bitch ass niggas on the East Side. I wonder whose package is keeping Bell's campaign contribution account full. All roads lead to Clay Davis' balls not being the only ones dangled above the rotisserie. McNutty and Freamon are keeping their respective fire alive. They went all the way down to the Southern to harass Uncle Phil for bums. If only they were allowed to put this kind of energy to real cases. While trying to solidify their weak sauce, was that one of the Season 2 stevedores Freamon and McNutty came across at the fire in the bum community? Jimmy's gonna be just as lonely soon enough. Beadie shouldn't have even given this nigga a talking to. It should have been straight G-H-E-T-T-O-U-T. Yo, son... Keema Greggs got a fatty. If she weren't no lesbian, I'd have some energy to focus on that. I wouldn't mind the three way with her and her ex, neither. They both look good. On a far more serious note, the boy she discovered in the closet is the scariest shit in the world. I couldn't imagine what his worldview is like. "I'mma work them. Sweet Jesus, I'mma work them." -Omar The first stop on Omar's "Welcome Home" tour was East Side to see the one crew he knew to have a means of reaching Butchie. Knowing that Prop Joe wouldn't be anywhere near his operation, he decided to take the drama to Lt. Slim Charles at his project apartment. Luckily, Charles saved his own balls with a good confession. Somewhere across town The Rat who took the Cheese took a stroll with Chris Partlow. Usually this is not a good thing. Cheese walking with Chris was hilarious. "I ain't done nothing to piss you off lately, right?" No, in fact he was just being awarded the honor of making Marlo's job easier by taking yet another East Side boss out of the equation. Immediately after deading Shitty Man... I mean, Hungry Man, Cheese then finished off his own uncle. Before Joe was to take off into hiding from Omar, Method Rat brings Marlo and Chris to Joe's pre-hideout. The fucked up part is that it was probably like, Cheese's grandfather's house or some shit. Ugh, I can't stand this new breed. Joe was right. Marlo and Cheese come from a generation removed from the struggle. Ain't no love in the heart of the city. Rest In Peace "Proposition" Joe Stewart. For his Season 5 fall in its entirety, [click here]. As one observant viewer pointed out, Prop Joe fucked up when he let Marlo meet Vondas back in Season 4. To expand on the notion, Joe made a suspect move like that to save Cheese's disloyal, bitch-made ass. Bonus: For those of you that don't remember, this (among other times Omar has drawn down on Senor Queso) is the reason Mef is so bent on burying Omar. That and the dickbreath.

Why I Love Winter X Games

I am an avid SSX-series loer. I only got Playstation 2, but the game is still pretty incredible. Presuming we weren't out boning your girlfriend or mother, that's probably what you'd find my friends and I doing on a slow evening. That said, it's not SSX that's my biggest reason for loving Winter X Games hosted by that cooncicle, Sal Masekela. ...but that there's an event called "Women Superpipe." It sounds like the name of a Barnard College cover band. I love it. Might gotta throw a "y" in there, though. You know.

The Wire Season 5: "The Miseducation of Marlo Stanfield"

We tried to school him back in the day. Ain't easy civilizing this motherfucker. As we already know, Marlo represents the worst kind of gangster. The scourge of the black community is not the drug dealer in and of himself, but the dope man that lacks code. I'm starting to believe the second greatest danger to be the dope man that doesn't know what to do with his money. Who in their right mind would trust a monster like Marlo Stanfield with valuable information such as what to do with millions of not-yet-manicured street bills? Marlo is a foreign account away from being Idi Amin. Why empower him when he has long since made clear at co-op meetings that he has no intention on cooperating. A nigga almost said "co-opping." On the one hand, I understand Prop Joe wants to put lipstick and a wig on his chocolate monkey, but some of them curious little motherfuckers best be left in the banana tree. Leave a nigga like that in the Congo. Working a line to Vondas has served as real-life application/education regarding the importance of clean bills. It looks like Michael is about to be on serious time out for his little Six Flags excursion. It's a shame though. I know what I'd want to do if I were 14 years old with a grip of cash in my pocket... in Baltimore. I'd be at Six Flags baggin up some white girls too. Nice dolphin, nigga. They'll leave you in an abandoned building with that shit too. Much like Marlo's bodies, Jimmy's Bumfight victims are in the wrong zip code. No one's going to care until some clever ass police makes the media connection. Jimmy must not realize what they do to police in prison. Cool Lester Smooth doesn't seem to care. They both raise a valid point. McNulty and Freamon are smarter than the rest of homicide, narcotics and Major Crimes put together. Which of those humps would catch them besides Bunk? LMAO @ Stan Valchek trying to weasel his way into the acting commander. After upping the Omar bounty to 50 large, they didn't need to find "his sister, his mee-ma. Some fag he be wit'." Cheese's old ignorant ass was blinded by the cheese. Just because Norman Wilson-Querns is who he is, he gets quote of the episode honors. "Even on an acting basis, can you imagine Norrice and the ministers dealing with Commissioner Valchek?" No. No, I cannot. Luckily for him, leaking the actual plan to the top of the Baltmore Sun's editorial brass is as easy as buying your old newspaper buddy a taste at your favorite public house. These ins and outs are really starting to show themselves. P.S.: Ashy Larry & Clay Davis are going to prison unless Glynn Turman can come up with something.

Look Who's In The Damn Super Bowl!

BALLINNNNNNN! ...except Lawrence Tynes. Fuck Lawrence Tynes. Addendum: Jacobs "do the running." Secondary loves to get burnt more than ODB.

Happy MLK Day, People!

Today we sing about the dream... of Martin Luther King I may not get there with you...

The Wire Season 5: "Jimmy The Ripper"

Ripping and running with the best of them, indeed. Beadie can't make this ho into a housewife. I hope she kicks his punk ass to the curb too. Episode 2 of Season 5 finally delivers the long-awaited meeting of Avon Barksdale and Marlo Stanfield. Sure, the West Baltimore torch had long since been passed as of their wink-and-nod encounter at Avon's sentencing toward the end of Season 3, but here we have the two's first exchange. It is a doozy indeed. After flexing his muscle as king of the correctional facility, Avon proceeds to pimp Marlo and Sergei to the tune of $100,000 up front and the prospect of a renewed source of substantial income that could possibly bring the Barksdale organization back to prominence even from behind the walls of Jessop. With the 2008 "I Have A Dream Speech," Avon tucks himself squarely under the covers with his one-time rival to the tune of "Fuck them East Side bitches!" It's funny that Avon and Marlo can be civil past this: Money is a motherfucker. After assessing that nothing neither could nor would be done fiscally from above to mend his broken ship, Jimmy McNulty makes the craziest and riskiest play of his career in drunken assholery. Being the cold case murder capital that Baltimore is, Jimmy Boozetron decides to play around with the canvas a bit. He strangles a John Doe that he an Bunk catch with the idea that he could falsify the emergence of a serial killer. Ironically enough, the media would pay much more attention to a deranged strangler than a Marlo Stanfield. The Baltimore Sun and television news coverage would force the hand of the mayor's office to fund the police department. While most of us agree with the desired end result, we fail to realize that McNutty is just as big a sociopath as the Marlo Stanfields and Avon Barksdales he is devoted to chasing. Much like the gangsters he has been trying to lock up for 4 seasons, Jimmy's imposes his philosophy on life upon everyone within the reach of his Jameson-clutching arms. Enjoy Episode 3 tonight. I seen it. It's incredible. You won't be disappointed.

Celebrity Rehab... Anyone Seen This Shit?

This is some seriously insane shit. I never thought I'd be watching an entire cast of "The Surreal Life" going through withdrawal all at once. We already have a bona fide SL alum in Brigitte "Gita" Nielsen, and I sure hope we see Flavor Flav on season 2. I get this strange image of Sylvester Stallone watching this program and, in the Rocky Balboa voice, lamenting "this lady's a damn mess." Fortunately, according to reports, Daniel Baldwin has already gotten his life back on track. Following in brother Alec's footsteps, he is slated to star in the highly-anticipated late-night sitcom "30 Rocks." I don't see this series keeping you past episode 3 or 4, but I recommend catching a rerun of episodes 1 or 2 before the junk is all said and done. The black girl whose name I don't care to knwo needs to stick with the weed. I think among its medicinal purposes is relief of enlarged forehead and they shouldn't be trying to deprive her of that. I take no pleasure in making fun of people who are earnestly and wholeheartedly trying to get their lives together. It is a wonderful thing to know that these people are in rehab. While I'm not naive enough to believe that the d-listers sitting here dramatizing (and in some cases exploiting) their situations are going to magically and instantaneously find closure for their addictions, it's good to see this step in the right direction. In an era where we are more often watching these people indulge in the demons that are drugs and alcohol, it's refreshing to observe these otherwise spoiled, lost souls undo some of the damage and take steps toward healing. The only funny shit I noticed watching this show is that Brigette Nielsen is actually bigger than Chyna.

Gallagher's 2000: Even Fuckin' Aliens Luv Deez Hoez

I'm pretty damn sure if some aliens came to earth and something made them want to stick around, it damn sure wasn't one of the C-Section All-Stars on the lunch shift at Gallagher's 2000. I'm sure there are a few breast implant scars Jim Jones would lick on the evening shift, but nothing to keep an alien or Prince or a nigga like that. Them bitches couldn't keep Zach Randolph around for 20 minutes. I guess to understand exactly how ridiculous this commercial is, you must have already gotten used to a couple years of this: Yeah... Giant ugly bitches stomping through the city like Power Rangers. You know this has to be Gallagher's A-game bitch too. You'd think the tightest they had to offer would be in their television commercial. A pimp usually has his best bottom bitch riding shotgun, right? I saw "Hustle & Flow." I'm pretty sure that's how it works. Anyways, these commercials tell a whole lot about the place it's pumping. If you guessed "seedy Long Island City fish box," I congratulate your superior intellect and intuition. Ha ha ha haaaaaaa. We luuuuuv deeeeez hoooez!

The Wire Season 5: "More With Less"

We're all familiar with the mantra of "doing more with less." We've bought Malt-O-Meal bagged cereals. We've worn Keds. We've made trips to the $10 Store and put tap water into our detergent bottles. What have we learned? The diluted detergent doesn't get the clothes as bright. Pro-Keds don't hold up in gym class like the Jordans. The $10 boutique wears shred into dishrags after a few shifts at Citibank. (Doubling up and wearing them to the club on Thursdays and Fridays doesn't help either.) Malt-O-Meal $1.99 bagged cereal is incredible, but that's entirely beside the point. The season 5 premiere of "The Wire" only outlines how this principle holds true in the dope game, the precinct and our newest medium of interest, the newsroom. With Mayor Carcetti funneling every last penny he can muster into the much-maligned education system we observed last season, it is the police department that suffers the most. With cutbacks across the board, The Wiretap All-Stars (AKA Major Crimes unit) must be disbanded with the exception of team captain Cool Lester Smooth and his file lackey, Det. Leander Sydnor. Left with only the resources to track down Clay "Sheeeeeit" Davis, Major Crimes watches its 4-season stalwarts McNulty and Greggs return to homicide. As we all know, an ounce of prevention in the form of a fully-operational MCU following niggas around and listening to burner conversations is worth far more than 12 humps staring at John Does and, at best, BNBG witnesses. As effective and intuitive as certain members of Major Crimes have been, it's a little surprising how aloof they were of the notion that the "Streets Is Watching." What makes you think you get a free pass to climb up buildings, sit in unmarked vans and conveniently pretend to buy newspapers without some hopper getting the eyeball on you? Despite being an excellent, dedicated unit, they exhibit the tragic flaw of a natural police haughtiness that allows those on the other side of the law to stay on the offensive and a full step ahead. It was still pretty hilarious how Bunk and Landsman tricked that poor kid with the photocopier and Mickey D's. It was almost as bad as watching a rock-dumb motherfucker like Herc buy valuable information for Levy (Avon Barksdale's Jew lawyer) for a round of Budweisers and well whiskey. When he finally learns the intricacies of the expense account, all of the Baltimore Police Department's tactical secrets will belong to the Barksdale organization. I'm sure it all fits on one sheet of paper. One-sided. Sgt. Ellis "You Gon' Take Care Of Me" Carver had his hands full dealing with the backlash from disgruntled, underpaid Western District officers. It was nice to watch him yell some of those bastards down. It's even better watching his continued maturity, exemplified by his being entirely cognizant of the bullshit he fed his men. "Professionals get paid. That's why we call them pros." Watching the only police department I've ever rooted for suffer this way only take me to the immortal words of Reg E. Cathey as Querns... I mean Norman Wilson. "When the governor threw that $50 million on the table, you should have picked that shit up... [Without it Carcetti] is just a broke-ass mayor of a broke-ass city." Many readers have asked me questions like "Ronnie, did you ever work for a newspaper?" or "Would you ever want to write for The Times?" Aside from the fact that a publication like that would never allow me to speak as candidly to the public as I'd like, this episode outlines exactly why Ron Mexico could never write for your local newsie. As Bunk and Omar have implored, "man gotta have a code." As exemplified by a great many news sources and bridges burned therefrom, sources are reluctant to trust these vinegar and baking soda doucebags with j-school degrees that will roll on them for some front page love. I also have no desire to work with editors, directors and otherwise executives that have "mastered" a ghost of the medium we navigate today. I don't need some 60-year-old in my ear about how he got Deep Throat to spill over crab cakes and pinot grigio 35 years ago. The field is nothing like what it was in their day, and for the most part these smoke-blowing relics would be better qualified to irrigate an African village than to oversee an effective publication. God does indeed still reside in the details, though. The Baltimore Sun's editor on the program is flat-out awesome. "Yeah... Stay hungry like that." Back on the skreet, Michael ended up having to put Dukie on nanny patrol. That's cool. Duke don't belong on that damn corner no way. It's like "Everybody Hates Chris" out there for him. Marlo may have been better served NOT popping shit in the co-op meetings. Being that he plans to get a line out to Sergei Malatov (Season Two), he might want to keep a low profile. But eh, that's too simple. Lisa Stansfield's illegitimate son is not one for tactful discourse. He's no diplomat. Marlo's just a gangster, I suppose. To assure he'd meet the right man, he had his African warlord lieutenant Chris Partlow go up in the municipal building and jack the mugshot photo from his file. Life got a little sweeter as Chris was further able to watch everyone watching him. If he didn't retain everything that was being said about his operation within earshot, he was 5 seconds away from overhearing Daniels and Pearlman discussing his case. He peeped McNutty on the way out of fucking with Sergei's file. Season 1 or 2 McNulty would have been all over that. I don't think the connection was made. Maybe because Jimmy's spending less time being good police and more time fucking around on Beadie Russell. That's a good woman, and Jimmy doesn't even have the decency to step outside the bar to call her. Anyways, what did you take from episode one of the final season of the greatest television program ever to happen to ever? We'll discuss episode 2 (and Bubbles) tomorrow.

2007 Rewind: Playaz Circle feat. Lil Wayne - "Duffle Bag Boy" video

I ain't never ran from a nigga neither. You'll see. As unexpectedly as the New York Giants' playoff run has come upon us did Disturbing Tha Peace's B-team come up with "Duffle Bag Boy," [watch above] one of 2007's fiercest tracks. Okay, let me stop. The DTP JV-squad having made the wise decision to blow their entire album budget on "Chorus of the Year" brought us one of 2007's fiercest tracks. Titty Boy and what looks to be Ness from Making The Band 2 comprise the woeful Playaz Circle, who would only stand a chance in the game if the world's most famous Katrina refugee decided to relocate himself to the group's frontman chair. Oh, Titty Boy, where have you been? I miss watching superior rappers carry your ass on tracks. Whether it's been Ludacris, Lil Weeziana or Chingy, we can't hate Titty Boy for finally being on the right star's bench to earn himself a piece of greatness. In my humble opinion, Titty Boy has always been the most intriguing of the DTP bench riders. I-20 is about as interesting to as a leaky faucet with a deep voice. I'd slice off my left testicle before I'd even illegally download a Lil' Fate record. We've already discussed how I feel about Steph Jones and Small Wonder and it's an even smaller wonder that Titty Boy has potentially risen to 6th man status in the event that Chingy, Luda and Bobby Valentino need anything more than a fluff boy. We profile the newly-exalted and ask him the questions you want answered in this Ron Mexico City exclusive: Ron Mexico City: Officially, how is "Titty Boy" spelled? Is it like, titties titties? Or is there some kind of clever intentional misspelling? I also know you niggas in the south like to spell "boy" with an "i." What's the deal? Tity Boi: It's [*takes time to think*] T-I-T-Y. So, one "t," right? And, yeah. I spell the "boi" wit a "i." That's how we do it down hea'. RMC: Nice. So what all went down with DTP in the past couple of years? We got members done left... Came back. You guys have been a little quiet and here you are with a smash out of the blue. TB: Well, I been makin mixtapes and gettin these hea' fresh twisses on the dreads. What you axin' 'bout? RMC: Umm... Let's start with Shawnna. What happened with Shawnna? TB: Honestly, I ain't know what was goin on with her until I saw it posted on the big green rap site. I forgot the name. Is that AllHipHop? RMC: No, I think that's XXL. Anyway, so what did you find out? TB: I found out that Shawna was leavin us. I thought that was strange because I heard her and Luda rehearsing "What's Your Fantasy?" through his office door just a couple days befo'. RMC: What about Chingy? Why is he back? TB: I honestly couldn't tell you. Dig dis, shawty. Any time you talk about another nigga fuckin with your money, that nigga should be dead. I mean, like-- Dead to you. Ya' dig? So how he even back associating with niggas that he said do bad business is beyond me. RMC: Do you believe Ludacris be actin funny with the money? TB: [*looks over at Ludacris*] Honestly, I don't know. I could see it. But this is a business, you know? So like, if that's true then Chingy is a bitch nigga for comin back to a nigga who don't treat him right. RMC: [long pause] Right. So I take it you haven't welcomed Chingy back to the barracks with open arms. TB: Nah. Nah, mane. Ludacris said we should be cold-like with him. He said somethin about makin him mad so he rap better. I think he want Chingy mad most of the time. RMC: So, about the song and the video. How did you get Lil Wayne to drop the chorus? TB: Well, Luda had already paid for the beat and he didn't really like the song we [Playaz Circle] had wrote for it, you know'm tombout? So he had told us that we needed somethin else. He called up Wayne and thang and them manager and Wayne dropped that hook. RMC: So you had nothing to do with that? TB: Nigga, I don't think I should have to be repeatin' myself. RMC: Sorry. So am I safe in assuming that Wayne didn't know that the surrounding verses would be Playaz Circle? TB: Nah. He probably thought it was gonna be for a Luda song. Luda made sure we knew that. RMC: Damn. So what was the video shoot like? TB: If you notice, we only in one, two shots with Wayne. Luda told us not to touch him or talk to him except for when we was shooting. He would smoke, do his little drank then do his thing. RMC: What was in that white styrofoam cup? TB: I don't know, nigga. Baby piss. What the fuck? RMC: I'm sorry, Tity. Oh, why don't you tell us about the model in the bed with you in the beginning. TB: Model? Oh, that warn't no model. That there my cousin, Keisha. We just used her cuz she thick, you know? RMC: [another long pause] I see. Do you normally make your cousin pour your Frosted Flakes in heels and ho clothes? TB: No, that's what I make my bitches do. RMC: [yet another long pause] So... Why?-- Nevermind, nigga. How are niggas supposed to get money by bringing duffel, by the way, the "e" comes before the "l"-- TB: Yeen't never heard of artistic license? RMC: [*laughs*] Yes. Yes, I have. TB: Alright, then. RMC: So, how do the dope boys of Atlanta get money by bringing empty duffel bags to your show tonight? TB: Who said they was 'pose ta be empty, fuck nigga? Fuck you thank? They bring us a duffle bag of work, we give them a duffle bag of money. We some gettin money ass niggas over here, you old fuck-ass, hatin-ass, broke-ass, bitch-ass nigga. RMC: Umm... So, how did you meet Ashy Larry and when did you think it a good idea to let him rap? TB: Funny. [long pause] I'm sorry. I just get sensitive when it comes to niggas hatin on gettin this money, know'm tombout? RMC: I understand. TB: We done come so far from when we wasn't able to ride on the bus... you know? RMC: Yes, sir. Indeed I believe I do. Do you believe that you can crack the DTP Starting Five in the next while? TB: I believe all thangs are possible through Him that created me. I thaink God for this opportunity. If Ludacris just let one more nigga contract expire before he sign anybody else... I have a 50% shot of taking that spot. RMC: Well, best of luck to you, Tity. I'll ask God for another Field Mob conviction on your behalf. TB: I appreciate that, cuz.

Terrell Owens Cries Like Bitch After Loss

"It's unfair, man," Owens sobbed. "So who can you take down to Cabo or Veracruz or whatever? Would there be so much controversy if it were Carrie Underwood or Mandy Moore?" I'm with you, T.O. The black stars are at Freaknik with Megan Goode and Lauren London and nobody cares. No one says Kim Kardashian fucked over Reggie Bush's sophomore campaign, right? I'm just surprised to see such vehement quarterback defense from a man who called Jeff Garcia, essentially the exact same QB 15 years older, a "fag." Even the most fanatic of NFL viewers had yet to see Owens block like this. I know they take T.O. off his medication for the game, but somebody needs to follow him around for a couple of days or something. They gotta put a tail on this nigga before he tries to make another painkiller cocktail and let his publicist "f" him in the "a" with a big, black strap-on. Here are some other important postgame comments. I'm glad Pierce and Strahan threw that little extra salt on them niggas' popcorn. Ugh, I can't stand the damn Cowboys. You know in the offseason T.O. is gonna denounce "Tony Homo" and appeal to sign with the Giants, right? The writers, yet again, don't give Elisha and the G-Men a touchdown's chance on Jeopardy. I generally don't expect much from the big, blue disappointment but their current postseason run has earned them some leeway and the ephemeral endearment of New York fans. Let's go Giants.

I Love New York: The Reunion (CFBE)

What does CFBE stand for? ...--We'll get to that a little later. I almost forgot that VH1 is obliged to bring the bitch niggas back together for one last self-contained, entirely unintentional roast hosted by Carmelo's sleepy-eyed KB. I know the LaLa jokes have been beaten like a foster daughter but I'll be damned if her tired ass didn't look like she just had the baby that morning. You, yet again, are about to host the reunion episode of America's greatest guilty pleasure. You mean to tell me you ain't have time to go get you a wash-and-set? You let Carmelo do your makeup or something? The shit looks like a color-by-number drawing of RuPaul. You couldn't go see the Asians for the pre-game workup? Facial, manicure, pedicure? You ain't have time for a little "Herrowwwww, Ra-Ra!?" Caramello must got you busy in the candy factory, huh? I hope VH1 doesn't really believe that "I Love New York" viewers are necessarily New York fans. Sure, there is a subset of strange individuals that genuinely adore Tiffany Pollard as her New York character presents. There is a far larger percentage of viewers who are viewers because it is human nature to slow down and watch a 7-car collision with a very high likelihood of fatalities. The first man-whore presented was the entire case for fetal fatality. Larry Fishburne's acting coach and adviser, It. NORE's Cousin It brought a cinder block and bricks to break. After actually breaking the cinder block and bricks with his mighty retard hand, he asserted to New York, his one true love "I'm trynna show you what I could do." Please. My brother Brillo show.-- With mighty strength and skill come a mighty retardation. As the program was obviously divided into segments with specific timestamps, It wasted zero time in making me dazedly stammer to myself "Oh, my god. This nigga brought cold french fries in a box." I'd like to think I'm not alone there. Even white people had that reaction. Don't lie to me, Amanda. Speaking of abominable miscegenation, Sister Patterson is what Uncle Ruckus was talking about when he said "anyone could put lipstick and a wig on a monkey." There's no way this shit is for real. VH1 has gone full-on WWF. I mean like WWF in the 80s when Hulk Hogan, Macho Man, Jake the Snake, Ravishing Rick Rude, Bret "The Hitman" Hart, Ted Dibiase and Koko B. Ware (when whitey wasn't looking) were all trying to put their shriveled-up 'roid weenies all up in Miss Elizabeth. So, seriously? Champion is diggin Sister Patterson out?! She's a ManBearPig and this nigga look like Shawn Wayans on that Roger Clemens. I know what happened here. He caught a glimpse of them stretchmarks and it was over. He was all Ray Lewis on it. Number 52's number had been called and he had to get in there. It was sickening how Champion defiled homegirl's moms on TV like that. The whole crowd went all Springer on it. They gave him pounds and shit. Hmmm. Maybe it was closer to a Maury crowd. Without even an attempt at a worthwhile transition, as Lala has already been dickslapped several times by the teleprompter (because she's horrible), we proceed to the best reality dating character ever. In the first episode, standing among the... you know... normal men, Midget Mac had a face like a scrappy little pitbull. He saw Sister Patterson and sensed her evil. It hasn't let up. He still wants to bark on her, maybe tell her to suck his full-sized midget dick. Yeah, Sister Patterson. Slob on that dwarfy cane. Speaking of cane, they made it clear that they brought Wolf's old inarticulate ass back in front of a camera to settle that little matter of swinging the Hillshire Farms kielbasa. Looking like Flesh N Bone home on a furlough, Wolf mumbled incoherently an agreement to step behind a curtain with Sister Patterson to show her if his dick was anything special. They should have gone full-on Crying Game. Have Sister Patterson whip her shit out. "Now, that's a big dick, you ass-backwards country shit." Thank whoever you pray to that the moron didn't take his cock and balls out. Dick shows always get Sister Patterson a little antsy in the pantsy. Once she gets that syrup in her, there's no stopping that ManBear. Thankfully, she's riled up just in time to greet those low-class Guinea fucks from the restaurant. After watching the VH1 mini documentary, "A Day In The Fuckin Life Of Frankie Goombas," New York was certain she made the right decision. Could you imagine Frankie and that moolie broad Tiffany fucking in the Pizzigniolirella basement? In that town, it'd be the equivalent of Frankie boning Grace Jones. At least that's what all the neighbors who watched through that big ass window with no shade think. Frankie's dad really got it in on "Mister Patterson." I'm pissed. Why didn't I think of that? I also should have known she was a fucking dominatrix. It's the costume she wore to the party. It all came together. At first I thought she was going for some Prince, or maybe that she rode a horse to the show. It couldn't be any clearer now. Speaking of horses worn and beaten, I'm starting to feel terrible about this. Maybe LaLa's neither stupid nor a terrible actress. Maybe she just one of many inner-city youths with an undiagnosed vision problem. You can help. Join Ron Mexico City in the fight to get every kid in the projects to an eye doctor so J.J. can stop putting Diamond Crystal table salt with MSG on his Rice Chex. I don't like Punk & Buddha as the new NWA man-wrasslin' tag-team champions. Punk seems to forget that Buddha doesn't respect him in the least. Buddha seems to forget that Punky Booster played Runteldat to New York the entire second half. Millione made sure he got his face time though. I'm just upset that they so obviously pitted a low-grade contestant pawn up to Buddha just for the sake of stirring up shit. It was like that time that fan got involved in the Million Dollar Man fight and they kept him in the federation. Maybe that's how Millione gets into "the show." Noteworthy Faces in Crowd: White guy with grills, Anthony Anderson look-alike. Solomon Wise tried to deliver Tailor his come-uppance during the "I Have A Dream" speech. That's some trife shit, for sure. Too bad his aim is terrible. His shit worse than Mike Vick. It's so terrible that I couldn't envision him ever engaging in self-defense. Wise would get his shit cracked missing by that wide a margin. Not only did he miss the punch by a mile, but he overshot the landing like Chester Cheetah. He absolutely drilled the back of that chair, though. Grade: D-. Booooooo, Mr. Wise! You should have cracked Tailor Made when he spit on you. Buddha hit him for a lot less and was allowed to stay. Neither New York nor VH1 management can say shit about that. They've let this shit get Springer on every level possible. As we leave this season's reunion episode with the title "Corniest, Fakest Bullshit Ever," I'd like to take the time to recognize VH1 Celebreality's first actual success story. No, not that Tailor Made and New York are still together and madly in love at the time of the reunion episode. We've managed to avoid finding New York pregnant with Tailor Made's baby. Flavor of Love 3 is right around the corner. You deeeig?!

2007 Rewind: Beyonce feat. Fabolous - "Get Me Bodied (Remix)" video

Yeah, I'll body that shit. In another pretentious display of Dreamgirl solidarity, Beyonce and her stable put the dicks down for a moment to combine in the bourgie eveningwear dance party that is the "Get Me Bodied" video. [watch above] I know this is not how it airs on The Negro Channel, but I figured it wouldn't do any harm to give 'Loso some shine. That is, unless Pastor Mase is still bitter. They need to find who did Queen B's wardrobe and charge them with war crimes. Yes, I compare that hideous dress with such horrendous acts against humanity as American slavery, the holocaust in Nazi Germany and mass slaughter/genocide in [insert African country here]. I hope this isn't their ugly-ass House of Dereon line because they got Beyonce lookin like something Captain Kirk would fuck on Star Trek. With that said, Beyonce could be green, scaly and in the late stages of a nasty bout with Hepatitis C. I'd still hit it. I've always been confused by the style of weave Beyonce chose. That shit defeats the purpose of weaving. One, you're not fooling anyone with that balero (ball-in-cup game) extension. Two, you end up looking like one of the Snorks. Oh, you know the damn song. Seriously, though. I can't even use it for leverage if I hit it from the back. It's completely fucking useless. If I wanted to fuck a Snork, I could tug as hard as I wanted. Sigh. It's nice to see Kelly and Michelle supporting their great matriarch. I say that like they don't spend 14 hours each day waiting by the red phone in the Dreamgirl house labeled "Beyonce Hotline." Solange is still in the house, so she knows she has to dance if she wants her allowance. That shit gotta stretch now too, Boo-Boo. Shorty got baby clothes and strained carrots to buy. Can't just blow it all on her boyfriend's Hennessey XO, Cush and Trojan-ENZ anymore. I cut on Solange a lot, but I love her. Obviously she's not much different from the rest of us. Solange wakes up to find empty, but obviously used ENZes on the other side of the bedroom in the morning too. Oh, don't act like I'm the only one that's been there. You could silence a .38 special with one of them shits. When you're ripped off that Hen-rock, the ENZ got to go. You know what else "got to go?" That aluminum slave in the cage. As usual, the choreography is exceptional. That's the video's saving grace. That and the fact that Beyonce's dancing with Mark Jackson. I can't with good conscience give the thumbs down to a clip that contains a Kid 'N Play kickstep. Correction: I can't with good conscience give the thumbs down to a clip that containts a Kid 'N Play kickstep in 5-inch heels. The way these clumsy bitches love to fall on their asses during performances, one of them is due for a timber. They jumpin around in them heels like we ain't seen any of them eat shit on national television. See that, Solange? Next time you get knocked up, yeen't gotta go and marry the nigga. You could just... perform somewhere and take care of that. You can initiate yourself as a full fledged Dreamgirl and take care of your "little problem" at the same time. Get 'em bodied, girl! They can't prove shit.

Chris W. Bosh's All-Star Appeal

Damn. The NBA got niggas sinkin to new lows for them, huh? Why the big Ying-Yang Twin gotta be G.W.? I guess if he were Chris W. Bosh he could just steal the fucking votes then.

Lisa Stansfield vs. Taylor Dayne: Who's The Blacker White Singer?

I tihnk it's high time I explained this week's poll question. Last week on Funkyminds, Jackpot had a post cataloging white chocolate. I took particular offense to the exclusion of one Ms. Lisa Stansfield. Granted, the list was exploratory in nature and by no means a definitive or even a thoroughly collection of any kind. It was just another one of Jackpot's post-lunch Itis-nap brainchildren. I still thought it criminal negligence of the highest degree to have a list like that, cite Taylor Dayne, and not even have Lisa Stansfield wander through your brainforest. That's like letting Jermaine Jackson sing lead and relegating Michael to backup. Exhibit A: Lisa Stansfield Tears Down Arsenio That's right. What's blacker than performing on "The Arsenio Hall Show?" You tell me. Taylor Dayne is absolutely terrifying. She looks like a blow-up doll. Blowsephine may be a tad more niggerish than Lisa Stansfield, but she don't got an iota of Lisa's soul. Not a single black-eyed pea's worth. Exhibit B: Even "The Man" Needs A Taste We ain't even discussing "All Around The World." That shit was so hot Barry White had to ignore his doctor's orders and slob down a slice of that angel cake. "She bad. She bad." Mmmm. Fuck with that, Taylor Dayne... with your plastic face and pornstar handle. Is that even your real name? No, it's not, Lisa Wunderman from Baldwin, Long Island. That's Barry there. He's lookin at Lisa like the chicken strip box! He'd pass your ass over like cauliflower. The real Lisa sings "All Around The World" with Barry White. Lisa Wunderman (from Baldwin, Long Island) would be lucky to sing "Tell It To My Heart" next to Alfonso Ribeiro. By the way, if you havent, you absolutely must see this. So yeah. Ummm... Vote for Lisa! --The one that rode with her natural snowflake name and still brought the soul to Londontown, that is. [Click here to read Jackpot's Taylor Dayne campaign]

The Boondocks Catch-Up: Stinkmeaner Strikes Back

"What's good, nigga?!" Ah, if only niggerdom and variations of niggardry therein could ward off the devil and his minions. If only we could, in fact, keep the devil down in the hole. Maybe then we could save our wayward, darkened souls. Sheeeeeeeiit, I'm writing that down! Soon you'll hear me sing that in the church house. Today's catechism comes from the book of Mexico. Please turn with me to the fourth chapter. In the seventh verse the word of hate reads: "Niggerish hands are the devil's workshop." Remember what I said, children. More memorable still is the advice of our people's presiding North Star. Ghostface Killah clasps both hands, still crusty, to offer an oracion of guidance to Huey. You can't kill an idea. You can't fight ignorance with violence. And you most certainly can't get 2 cracks for $9. Tom's possession by the spirit of Colonel Stinkmeaner resulted in a barrage of shit-talk that I still incur almost daily. "Oh, yeah! Look at you! You was poppin' all that good shit a second ago. Then you got kicked in yo' chest." It was also fun to hear Cedric Yarbrough get Rick James wit it. "Yeah, I remember grindin my feet in Eddie Murphy court." Despite how juvenile, my favorite quip of the episode comes during Grandpa's quest for booty with the hot forgein woman. "Did you tell her you got 2 sets of genitals? --A vagina and a coochie?" A nigga moment can take life, stunt growth and destroy opportunity. However, it'll never stop a negro in pursuit of booty. I'm glad Reverend Ruckus returned for an exorcism. By providing the same type of spiritual cleansing that his beloved white man has bestowed upon us for centuries he only brings the prophecies of the god and prophet Dennis Coles to fruition. "We must use these tools that the great God has given us to fight niggers." While most walked away from this episode with clarity, I left a little confused. This is not because I believe job applications and workboots to niggers are like holy water and garlic to Eddie Murphy in a perm wig. I now can't discern who channels the spirit of Stanley Crouch more, Uncle Ruckus or Stinkmeaner.

Missy Elliot's Doritos Commercial Spot

I know this ain't nothin' new but... Bitch back fuckin' with them Doritos, huh? I thought she was gonna keep it off too. For shame, Missy. "I know what it need. It need some pickle juice." Hee-hee-hee-hee-HOW!

Happy 2000-Hate!

Hope your new year is going fan-fucking-tastic. I'm sure your resolution was to have yourself some unprotected sex with a stranger. I know she doesn't, but it always sounds to me like Alicia Keys says "Niggas say what they like./" The hate is strong. I hope you're ready for a full calendar year of this independent hateration. May this year bring you everything your heart desires. --Or Herpes. Or a baby or something.

2007 Rewind: Yung Berg feat. Junior, Jim Jones & Rich Boy - "Sexy Lady [w/remix]" video

Some special people need to be addressed before we let a Mexico-shortened 2007 go. When I first saw this video, I said "Oh, my." I said "Oh, my... That's a fucking baby gremlin. Kill it! Kill it now!" Little baby gremlin niggas? Really, Sony pop R&B machine? That's what's hot in the streets? Fuck it. Let's just manufacture pit bulls that we can't kill. Dead all the confusion. The funny part is that he really thinks he's fucking T.I. when he actually looks like someone raised one of Michael Vick's dogs as a son. Be wary next time you see a nigga walking a pit bull with a doo-rag on. And who knew when they recorded this record that soon the lame Vick-related punchlines would bear an entirely different significance? Bringing the little nigga back to the realm of humanity, my good friend El Diablo hit it on the head when he told me "Yung Berg looks like a JV point guard." Is that Matt Barnes on the hook? The video: Same recipe as always. Add sugar, 2 scoops of stooch, 1 mini-rapper with Napoleon complex, 1 light-skinned R&B nigga. Shake well. Rush to BET offices with duffel bag full of $20 bills. The remix reveals the Lil' Fame in Berg. The director took far less precautions to make him look less gremlin. Jimmy, you stink. Pull your damn pants up. Ray Charles is a terrible rapper.

Roy Jones, jr. Visits Knicks Practice

I don't know what the fuck he talkin about. That nigga don't defend either. Maybe he's vying for that vacancy at point guard.

The Boondocks Catch-Up: "Thank You For Not Snitching"

"Suckas really shouldn't play. I hit 'em with the Hennessayyyyyy!" Fuck snitching, Thank You For Bringing Back Gin Rummy and Ed Wuncler III! I remember reading a Boondocks strip in one of our local tabloids when Bluetooth headsets started to pop off. Tom was wearing one and Huey made it a point to inform him that he looked part-Rihanna-- I mean, Klingon. I too refuse to sacrifice my dignity for fashion or technophilia. Once again, I am well pleased with the program's take on the cultural phenomenon that is the persecution of snitches. We've had snitches since the white man came over with the boats and the gun powder to steal us from Africa. We had snitches to the kings who sold us to the whites with the gun powder. Abel snitched on Cain. Judas snitched on Jesus. Nicky Barnes snitched on everyone. I grew up surrounded by the drug game. While the mantra remains that there's no honor among thieves, I've grown to observe quite the opposite. Snitching as it pertains to said game is a first-degree violation of an ethical code that makes the whole show go 'round. The violation primarily entailed giving niggas up once you got pinched. Despite how loosely the term is used today, this decree did not include civilians. While you surely wouldn't be safe if it were common knowledge that you had a high score on Crime Stoppers, informing the police on the whereabouts of your local child molester, i.e. Cam'ron on "60 Minutes." is NOT snitching. I repeat... NOT snitching! According to Huey Freeman, 1 in 12 black men are active and working police informants. I'm not sure where he gets his fact from, but if so, that's no more than a third of the percentage of black men with razor bumps in the post-Gillette Mach 3 era. That's not all that bad. As we all know, the authorities are looking for Mach 3-users whenever some shit goes down. White woman drowns her kids in a lake in broad daylight, somehow a Mach 3-user's face is plastered across every television network and the local neighborhood watch has militarized. Best believe the streets are fully militarized already. Niggas damn sure know how to destroy each other with ironworks. Unfortunately, when police cooperation is both appropriate and necessary, our brothers in blue don't effectively protect witnesses. I'm not talking about the rat bastards sitting in protective custody in Clinton Correctional Facility who thought selling crack was cool until he got popped. I'm talking about the 12-year-old who saw his classmate get murdered in an alley and won't make it to testify. We're expected to help the pigs "do their job" (translation: "collar a nigga") and they won't so much as uphold the former of their creed. They'll serve you a magazine of hollows while you're trying to parallel park though. You'll be just laying there bleeding with somebody standing over you talkin 'bout: "You know you done fucked up, right?"

Fuck A Christmas!

Happy Kwanzaa, everyone! Harrrrrrumbeeeyyy! This Kwanzaa we're getting The City all good and lined up for 2008: Year of the Hate! I chose that name because it rhymes. Thank you, Robin. Your long-overdue Boondocks blogs are finally on the way. As are brand new music video posts. We's even gonna have podcasts and a store! What are we gonna sell? Hmmmm. You wonder. BOY, STOP! We still got that hot sauce.

Jamie Lynn Spears Agrees To Marry R. Kelly

"Once again, it's on." - Treach By Ronaldo Horacio Mexico, Dissociated Press Writer ORLANDO - A matter of mere days after announcing her pregnancy at American Girl in Atlanta, 16-year-old actress Jamie Lynn Spears reveals that she is marrying her unborn child's father, embattled R&B star Robert "R." Kelly. Kelly, 40, on campus fulfilling his directorial contract to score and arrange all music for the 2008 Kids' Choice Awards, has obviously made time to touch more than just the shiny buttons whose labels he can't read. "She's like an angel. I can't remember the last time I've drawn such inspiration from something so lovely and pure. At her best she is loved." Kelly explained. "As far as the baby goes, that's a part of life. I really don't know why everybody trippin. It's not like we ain't gonna be able to feed the little nigga." Kelly further failed to comprehend the cause for public disenchantment with his engagement to the adolescent. "Everyone's acting like they're never seen an interracial relationship before. I mean, it's 2007, people. Real talk," Kelly persisted. Despite the negative attention and media frenzy surrounding the "Zoey 101" and former "All That" star, Nickelodeon top brass is not as concerned as one may expect. "Of course we only wish the best for Jamie Lynn and her family during this difficult time," said Corporate Communications Executive Vice President Dan Martinsen. "However, this is also an excellent opportunity for our network to continue to serve young people everywhere by having Jamie Lynn star in a SNiCK special on the issue of teen pregnancy." Most detractors believe the move is exploitative in nature. Still some believe that the proposal is an underhanded attempt to resurrect the cancelled SNiCK series "Roundhouse." "We'd welcome and appreciate Mr. Kelly's support and/or participation for such an initiative. We're also securing venues for the upcoming R. Kelly & Jamie Lynn tour that is yet-to-be-named." Martinsen would continue. Rival teen-show queen Raven Symone wasn't without comment regarding Spears' situation. "Yeah. That's because she's a nasty bitch who will open her little redneck mudflaps for any trucker with extra beef jerky snacks," asserted Symone, 21, "I'm 21 years old without any children, venereal diseases or questions of my character. And if I'm gonna fuck some dude, I'm at least going to ask him to pull out or swallow it or something." When asked what she thought about Nickelodeon potentially developing a SNiCK special on teenage pregnancy, the plus-sized actress exploded. "Lord Disney would never run some immoral, godless shit like that. I'm surprised any network would allow itself to be dragged down to trailer park level that way. It all comes from their hometraining. Their mother [Lynne Spears] did wrong by them girls. There's just no need to endorse that type of behavior and lifestyle." Lynne Spears, whose parental miscues always make front page news, hit redneck mothering rock bottom sometime last month when she agreed to drinks and a friendly hand of poker with R. Kelly and Japanese businessman Kyoko Fujiyashi. Lynne Spears ended up losing Jamie Lynn's parental rights to a straight flush. "She thought she was cute when she caught that nut straight on the turn," Kelly recalled. "I knew I had the low straight, but they was all clubs. I'm the king of the clubs! I told her somebody's girl was at this party! She was coming home with me too. Come on. I had to give it to her. Chi-Town!" According to Kelly, the arrangement has already produced over 30 Nickelodeon-ready singles that should "bust open those little kids' shit." What remains to be seen is if Jamie Lynn and Robert will stand the test of time or go back, back, forth and forth.

I Love New York 2: Finale Sunsplash!

Dem a call us piraaaates. Dem a call us illegal protesters. Just because we blog what the people want. Welcome to Jamaica, where slavery apparently still exists. "I don't know what the hell I'm going to do on this plantation." - New York Really? So you don't like the plantation, Miss New York? Eh, don't worry. You're already a slave. Not no classy slave like Thomas Jefferson's bitch. No, you're that sweaty, broke-down, back of the chicken coop slave with wheat stalks dangling from her nappy mane pretending to be blond like massa's wife and daughter. Yes. I said it. "Tailor Made buys me nice gifts. Buddha got me a teddy bear with a hole in it." - New York I liked the empty box from Tailor Made. He is the cheesiest, corniest, end of "Pretty In Pink"-stealinest rich bum I've ever seen, but that one was clever enough for Fuckwheat. I also love how the program centralizes on Tailor Made's jealousy. You can't stand to see New York with other guys, yet you are a contestant on "I Love New York 2." Yes, that makes a ton of sense, hairplug. I knew Tailor Made was a bitch, but I did NOT expect to see him howling and crying like his first night in federal prison. He's stir crazy after a couple of hours? No, he's just crazy. Yet, who's here to console Taylor Dane? Ah, yes. The ManBearPig who unloads the most ridiculous notion of the entire series. "You are part German, right? You call upon your German ancestors... Your descendants." - Sister Patterson Wow. A black woman just implied that a white man should use Nazi tactics on her offspring. Did you guys notice how nice Tailor Made's dad was? He's trying to escape that public relations disaster he inherited from his folks. Shit, even the pope was Hitler Youth. ManBearPig then gave Tailor the official Hilter-Rommel pep-talk. I'm pretty sure that's how they did it behind closed doors. I don't know how well that's going to work. Tailor Made looks like he's got a little Ricky Ricardo in the tank. So, listen. I got niggas jugglin fire. I got slaves. I want this night to be perfect. All she was missing was that Buddha dick. Oh, who are we kidding? She's already 2 months pregnant by him. Tailor Made's cliff jump symbolized the dropping of his balls. It all comes full-circle. You dive balls-first into a Jamaican woman. Then you dive balls-first into Jamaica for a woman. Let's stick with balls. Sure, you're got a ton of money, but it takes some hairy coconuts to go buy an engagement ring like that. No, it doesn't take balls to buy an engagement ring for New York on a nationally-televised reality show. It takes balls to purchase or otherwise carry anything worth more than $50.00 USD anywhere on the island of Jamaica. If either of those cliff jumpers peeped that ring her splooge-covered finger would be in the chicken foot soup pot. With a DG Kola Champagne on the side... Maybe a bottle of Ting if they're feeling freaky. If you missed the broadcast, thank EweToube user "tanishaw" for the complete final episode without interruption. Seen. ..and there it is. She chooses Tailor fucking Made. How Buddha didn't realize that the ring wasn't for him was a testament to just how self-centered he is. The balls have come full-circle and now comes the g-g-gullibility. In a strange way, Tailor Made and New York are perfect for each other. A whore needs a trick. They've got a two-way street going in that regard. New York goes on the dollar stroll and Tailor Made once again gets to ride the Hershey Highway. All's well that ends well, I suppose. Can't wait for the reunion episode... and the third season. You know this shit ain't gonna last.

I Love New York 2: The Stooch In Review - "The Final Four"

It's only fair that we give proper shine to the four finalists of "I Love Flavor Flav's Leftovers 2." (In order of departure) The Entertainer: Frankie the Entertainer really showed his garlic knots before his time was up. He held the Guido back for as long as he could but the arrival of his parents was the marinara on the fettuccine. His pops was cool; far cooler than I'd expect from, you know... Eye-talian guys. I saw "A Bronx Tale." I could only imagine what kind of parmagiana Tony Ravioli would make out of his talking eggplant queen. ManBearPig may have been right on her assessment of Frankie as unstable, volatile and threatening, but she had no reason to foul on his parents the way she did. Susta Patterson ultimately said "Fuck you, Frankie and the Olive Garden you came from." What ultimately did him in was that he worked for fucking UPS and lived with his parents. There wasn't any amount of toe-sucking that was gonna make up for the fact that he was some kind of triclops gnocchi monster trapped in the basement. With that said, New York and her mother set black women back farther than the "Tip Drill" video by lambasting The Entertainer's parents with a unified front of indiscriminately disrespectful behavior. They were one head short of Ugly Bitch Cerberus. Throw Dionne Warwick up there and you got three heads. I'm sorry. New York is gonna look like Danny Glover when she's her mother's age. I don't know if there was some Reparations sentiment behind that shit or what. Them bitches acted like they found the family that used to own them back in the 1700s. I thought it was pretty cold to make the parents stick around for the elimination to hear those terrible things from that delusional, battered stripper. I never noticed his third eye until the clip show. Then I became more frightened than Sammy Davis, jr. walking through his neighborhood without Sinatra and Dean-o. Ron Mexico enters your establishment through the fucking front door, you hear me? Punk: I guess Punk leaving second-to-last afforded him the ability to do what he really wanted to do with his lawyerin' degree and frosted-tip S-Curl. But really, Punk. What the fuck, holmes? What, you on SMACK DVD as a manwhore for hire, David Otunga? Whose dick did you plan to suck in that limo? "Look at me! I'm taking Moet to the head! I just bagged Buckeey. That wasn't hard at all." I wonder who everyone at Ciara's party thought this man was. This party wasn't long after the show first aired, right? Eh, I'm sure no one could tell. Punk probably ended his night doing a line off Ne-Yo's dick. I ain't never seen so many shots of a nigga dancing by himself with a bottle of Mo'. Before we all found out he was a party boy, Punk seemed like the safest, most responsible option of all of the guys when he wasn't a greasy cocaine gorilla. Unfortunately, Tiffany doesn't want anything to do with anything rational, responsible or safe. She bought the Spalding Never-Flat titties. Her nipples twist out to little silicone pumps. It's truly horrific. Speaking of nipple twisting... --So his mother's an old Jewish lady? I'm not seeing the resemblance. I see it between the mother and his sister because they look like the same type of touchdown. That would mean that she did, in fact, climb that gefilte fish up onto the African soupbone at some point... which is hysterical. His name is Otunga. That sounds pretty African. He's light-skinned enough to have come from a white woman via natural birth, though. I'm guessing he's the type of privileged African halfzie that could go to a good enough school to do the lawyer thing. ...or they're just adopted. P.S.: You should have let that giant deadly dodo bird rip New York's intestines out. Buddha: Buddha's dad was pretty much exactly what I expected. He's an Uncle Ben-ass, preachy-ass, self-righteous Farrakhan style motherfucker. I guess the bean pie doesn't fall too far from the mosque. Strangely enough, the G-Unit wifebeater model's game wasn't apparent to our veteran judge of character. Miss New York ate up every monosyllabic word he threw at her as long as it came with that chocolaty velvet fog of his. He almost fingerbanged her at the dinner table in front of Punk and Taylor Dane. Luckily for New York, she denied his appendage entry as it probably just came out of the cank stooch of Miss Vietnamese. You don't want too much going on in the petri dish. You don't wanna end up with a Princess Clara. I don't know why Punk and them thought he was flirting. That little Asian girl is part of the room package. Buddha's analysis of New York's preferred erotic stimulus was pretty damn accurate. Homegirl gets off on drama, not penis. With that understanding, one would have thought Buddha had the competition in the bag as he provided more than one man's share. Unfortunately we're dealing with a capricious, ignorant pill-popping cum muppet and the producers that control her every move. Say hello to Mark Cronin and Cris Abrego, everyone! We might as well. They've kept me in business for over 2 years now. Tailor Made: We'll give Miami's big winner and Jamaica's big loser the due he deserves when we put the touches on this series later today.

**Newsflash** New York Chooses Tailor Made!

Like, FORREALS! [much] more to come...

Snoop Dogg's Father Hood: Welcome 2 Tha Dogg House

We interrupt this "I Love New York 2" overdose to bring you this very important announcement: I mean... it's almost like when Thugnificent moved to Woodcrest. What a terribly scripted intro. I haven't seen acting that bad since the last time I saw Snoop Dogg acting. He should have shotgunned that little tar baby of his. I wonder how many times she's walked in on him "working on music, baby." What? You don't smell that music, mane? Yes, as expected, Snoop Dogg is high at all times. Also, as excpeted with Snoop Dogg being a black man, he absolutely abhors going to the doctor. This nigga don't watch "Grey's Anatomy" or "Scrubs" or nothin. What's unexpected is that a crip-ass, murderin'-ass nigga such as Tha Doggfather is afraid of needles. I guess for his frame a needle puncture is like a .45 shell wound. This nigga officially falls into the category of sickly. He ain't like needles since that time he saw his uncle nod off on a bad bag of chunky. Was it me or did his doctor's office look like a porn set? In fact, I seen his doctor on MILF Hunter. Everything she said on camera came out sounding as if she were offering to wax his jimmy like she needed the rock and Snoop was G-Money. Surprise! The black man is stressed out with high blood pressure. 9 out of every 10 black men hear the same diagnosis whenever they finally drag themselves in to see a doctor. These kids are some lazy, ridiculous fucks. Let me get this right. This big, sloppy Eddy Curry with and extra chromosome motherfucker they got in the house doesn't clean up after himself? Isn't he like-- not even their child? Oh, hell-to-the-no! Big Anthony better get his ass on all fours and ride Snoop Dogg's high-yellow offspring to the bathroom cabinet like Falcor. Just because you have a cleaning lady doesn't mean you have to be a lazy, nasty fuck. Apparently these children lack the guidance of an appropriate father figure. It doesn't look like they are getting much out of the hypersexual smoke cloud in the garage. Snoop better check his bitch. He might be raising a couple of Layzie Bone's kids. I love Snoop's little "high-as-hell" dance for the commercial segues. Wow, Snoop really is a fucking dog. Every time you see him he's ogling some girl. That poor little Japanese girl was terrified. Snoop should know better than to just run up on her like that. Play it cool, big homie. That's why they sell her soiled drawers in the vending machine in the lobby. Snoop's libido and surley chronic-induced verbal diarrhea led me to a moment in the show that made me embarrassed for black people. If I were in that yoga class with them white folks and when told to "open our hips" some nigga like Snoopnificent says "I got somethin to open your hips up," I'd be as red as a brown nigga can get. I'd be burnt sienna. Sure, I'd be thinking the exact same thing, but I wouldn't be disrupting class with it like I did in 4th grade with the Nice 'N Smooth lyrics. "Sometimes I rhyme slow, sometimes I rhyme quick./" Then I added on some shit that rhymed with dick. Ms. Gibson heard me and tossed my black ass like an unruly slave off the Amistad. After Snoop realizes that yoga isn't going to work and he doesn't wanna keep paying for his bodyguard's sweat damage to the hardwood floor, he runs back to his doctor for another suggestion to relieve his Nigritis. He's excited as hell about the Eastern Medicine suggestion. "Yeah, Doc. I'm more into Eastern medicine. That Chocolate Thai with a massage with the happy ending. You know what time it is!" Indeed we do. Snoop better be careful they don't make his ass the next Flavor Flav. Parting Shot: Snoop need to stop smokin all them damn blunts and get to beatin some ass. Rev Run's kids ain't nasty like that. Maybe he needs to watch these new episodes of Run's House after his shit airs.

Soulja Boy TellEm: I Got A New Dance For Y'all Called "The Sweet 'N Low!"

I'm just saying. This is a rainbow district mating ritual. "Sssssh!-- ...and the African-American Salad Bird spreads its MiAKA feathers to attract a mate." Oooh. I must be gettin mad. He got him some bathing apes. Is this guy the A-rab he says he's going to "pass it to" on one of his previous classics? This shit is like a Mad TV sketch of itself. I am truly amazed by this divine caricature. I feel like I'm watching a car wreck. Not because I am watching a gay man perform, mind you. I love me some homos. No homo. I'm just saying that I am watching a closet case unable to hold it back, and that has to be some painful shit. BET Afterschool Special material. No, they don't exist. But if The Negro Channel wants to talk paper, I'll write some up. I'll start with "Real Talk: The Souljaboy Tellem Story." Damn, homie. And I was just about to discuss Bow Wow and Omarion's prison honeymoon, "Face Off" and the forthcoming BET reality series. Shit. I probably will anyway.

I Love New York 2: The Stooch In Review - "Actors Need Love Too, Baby!"

Before we explore how many derivatives of female genitalia these freaks saw in their ink blots, let's get these out of the way. Buddha, you on "Hell Date!" ...and you're gay! While the gentlemen were given over for psychoanalysis, the show behind the show was our forceful re-introduction to Miss New York as the undisputed queen of synthetic drama. Yes, synthetic drama differs from organic drama. After finding out Buddha had previously been a contestant on *GASP* reality television programs, CB4 goes ballistic on our boy, Ezra. The funny part is how he tried to differentiate the firmaments of garbage that "Hell Date" and "I Love New York 2" reside within. "Come on baby, that was just some old BET bullshit." That's low of VH1 to even go there. Like I Love New York is fucking Dateline. I Love New York ain't even To Catch A Predator. Then, where does "reality star" Tiffany "Janice" Pollard get off shitting on Buddha Man for working the same circuit as she? Fuck you, sexpot muppet! She'd be a spectacle regardless of Flavor Flav. If she didn't make the cut for "Flavor of Love" she'd be getting paid to fuck on stage in a Russian bar. Gorilla suit optional. On the side of virtue and giving these sociopaths the benefit of the doubt, “Actors need love too.” Unfortunately for Punk, no matter how much S-Curl, coke and steroids he brings to the table, New York isn't really down for his sweet ass. He should have ran behind his lover, Pretty. As we get down to the real business of the program, that being finding someone to diss New York in time for the reunion special in 3 weeks, Mr. Wise obviously had to go. His Charlie Chaplin of the Ghetto routine having run its course, homie can leave this program as the greatest anomaly in Abrego/Cronin history. At least Mr. Boston was interesting, you know? [More catch-up to come]

I Love New York 2: The Stooch In Review - "Girlfriends and Sisters"

Alright guys. Sorry for missing a few of these, but here we go. How funny was this shit? Before "The Parent Trap" came this year's "Ex-Girl To The Next-Girl" episode starring Tailor Made, Buddha, Mr. Wise, Frankie Goomba the Entertainer, Punk and Pretty. I don't think they could have dreamed of a more eclectic and entertaining collection of ex and "okay-with-all-this-fuck-shit-so-long-as-we-get-paid" girlfriends. I had 2-to-1 odds going that Mr. Wise's ex was gonna be a chocolate animal woman. She didn't have to fluff up his chocolate stick all unprovoked like that. In doing so, she revealed herself as a helper character. What I did NOT expect was Tailor Made's Jamaican bumboclot he married. Sure, you can like black women. Shit. A man ain't a man until he split the dark oak. The Jamaican woman, however, is an entirely different animal... er, umm... tree? As soon as I heard that accent I got flashbacks to getting my ass whipped in ways they'd lock a bitch up for in the States. This must be where his penchant for punishment comes from. He's all about the sugar cane beatings and Blue Montain Curry Powder in his tossed salad. Entertainer's woman was... sizeable, yes. No, she wasn't no 300-pound, half-Arctic seal-lookin broad. She was just Jersey. That's how they get down out there. Those bitches are at no shortage of meat-and-cheese pasta. As long as she's not some racist fucktard from the interior it's really all good, people. What was not all good was how homegirl dropped the nail that would eventually be driven into his coffin. There is no way New York is ending up with some package handler that lives in his parents' basement. "Nigga, please. You work for UPS." - Biz Markie "Don't be mad. UPS is hiring." - The Notorious B.I.G. "Special Delivery!" - G-Dep (now working at FedEx) Buddha's ex-girlfriends are all either still in the hospital from dicklash or have restraining orders, so his sister had to come out. Pretty's ex-girlfirends couldn't make the trip to Los Angeles to be on television because they were all... um... in the Astronaut Training Facility... in Atlanta. Yeah. That's it. So, his sister had to come out too. Keeping true to the "Flavor of Love" franchise format, New York and ManBearPig have face-to-face, woman-to-wildlife time with the contestants' loved ones while some special, secret, trustworthy guests of hers "interrogate" the men. I don't think anyone was surprised to see detectives Chance and Real on the case. We were due for a Stallionaire cameo, weren't we? High out of their minds, Chance and Real get the job done with interrogation questions like: "How did you get that scar across your lip?" "Snitchin!" "Why are you going bald?" "Do you strip, homie? Do you dip, homie?" I was hoping he'd expand on that one and ask "Do you spin the package around while you do your little dance?" While the weed cop/sherm cop routine worked on most, it backfired on perhaps the least likely contestant. Punk wasn't having any of that bullshit. He may be a little effeminate, but you won't be Punking Punk on national TV, especially when you look like Cam'ron and Jim Jones after the doctors told them there was nothing more they could do. Unfortunately for Pretty, he didn't corroborate his story with his co-defendant. There is a clear and cut problem when you say your mother and sister, whom you are inseparably close to, know every woman you've ever dated, yet your sister says she's never met a single one. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, that could just have been a situation of sister-girl lying to protect brother-man's privacy. However, the ties, the glitter pen, the bounce in his step and the sugar in his speech lead us to believe he's more than likely hiding the sausage if anything. Pretty's trapped in the closet!!! When New York approached the door to open it, Pretty pulled out his Beretta. "Pretty, do you know what time it is? I gotta meet my mo--" "Fuck yo' ass, bitch! Sorry, mama. Why the fuck everybody think I'm gay?" A nearly-outed Pretty wasn't the only one to pop off and be asked to leave the rent-a-mansion. Chance blew his chance at being invited back into the house by getting back on his Dipset shit. We all know the type. Famous will bark and fight the air knowing damn well he don't wanna get a mudhole stomped into his ass by one of these gargantuan negroes New York got floating around this time. Shit. Opening day looked like the clearance sale at Western Beef. Some of the niggas were even branded. While Pretty excused himself before the top on his Pringles got popped, Mr. Wise's sorry ass had to be dragged out in the next episode. Someone please explain to me how this man was able to get to the top 5? Was New York feeling his songs or some shit? I never understood his appeal. Ah, well. There are plenty more tar babies out there in search of the banana for their tailpipes. Too bad your "rap career" will always be affiliated with you publicly trying to fuck Man-ManBearPig. I'll hit you guys later today with the rest... AND what I thought of Snoop Dogg's Fatherhood!

The Boondocks Catch-Up: Let It Burn!

"So many days. So many hours... --And the installation is freeeeeeee!" Sometimes you're out to dinner with your woman and Tyrese sits down at the table next to you. Sometimes your woman gets to her "Sweet Lady" fantasy happy place and shows Tyrese all 32 teeth and vaginal smile. Sometimes you gotta head home and take the L. It's a perfectly normal and realistic occurrence. Wouldn't let that shit happen to meeee, though. If you'll remember from "The Passion of Ruckus," Tom hates Usher... and Kobe. So this is akin to me having (a purely hypothetical) Mrs. Mexico taken away from me by... I don't know... Some little gremlin motherfucker like Cassidy. The funny thing is, you gotta let a bird fly. Sometimes another player knocks your girl off the strip. What you gonna do? Sit around and cry about it? Confront the player and catch a 15-yard penalty regardless how it plays out? Shit. You don't even confront the pigeon. "Now, now. There won't be any of that." Eddie Murphy's anecdote alludes to a bitchmade, square-ass nigga who got the game fucked up. A true player shouldn't have to shackle or beat a bitch. We'll explore this notion a little further later. White woman sure do got a big heart. She just wanted to be entertained by that negro Ron Mexico column and went home with a face full of man mustard. She came for the Throwback Thursday and left with the whole package of Toll House cookie dough in her mouth. This discussion is a scenario in which my inner Riley doesn't prevail. It doesn't matter if you lose your woman to T.I. or Gary Coleman. You lost her. Somehow your ho that you were supposed to have locked down done got the notion that licking Gary Coleman's ashy balls was better than life with you. With that said. I think we all have a short list of people that we would leave any relationship for. Fuck. Gary Coleman is on some woman's list. I'm sure of it. Needless to say, Tom DuBois "doing the music video thing" to Usher's "Burn" was incredible. Cedric Yarbrough puts in strong performance after strong-- Car! --um, performance, but McGruder got a little extra out of Jones.E this episode. Let it be known to all that I have incorporated "Sexy-Flexy-Ass Nigga" into my active vocabulary. I do thank The One World God that they brought A Pimp Named Slickback... back. He and I are Charles Xavier/Magneto on this issue. While APNS believes Chronic Bitch Dependency, or CBD, is an illness of some sort that can and should be cured, Ron Mexico believes that CBD is genetic and we should allow those who "suffer from" it to continue to fall victim to natural selection. Who's going to break their pockets on the bitches and hoes if we "cure" something as natural as Advanced Trickin' Syndrome? Then we'd all be "sans trique" as the French would say. Who would we be able to get over on? I found the dream sequence hysterical. You know. The one where Tom reminisces on he and Sarah's "happy" life and we see that she's been bored beyond the help of her Magic Bullet. Something inside me wanted to yell: "Told you 'bout messin with them white girls! She on the couch thinkin about Chad Pennington!" Until I decided that Julie probably wouldn't fuck me if I said any of that aloud. It was bad enough that I had her watching "I Love New York" and making my popcorn. With all that said, had I blurted that shit out, I'd have to... you know... let a ho fly. "You better make that G4 work, bitch and stop playin' with me." - Quote of the Episode! This is why you don't confront the player. Thomas got the appropriate result for slapping Urshurr. It ain't Urshurr's fault your snowflake is diggin him. You know the name of the game. Your bitch chose Sexy-Flexy! Tom's just lucky she didn't take his ass to the cleaners like Strahan and bounce with the mulatto. That's all you're setting yourself up for anyway when you get married. Lesson: Don't get fucking married.

Rest In Peace, Pimp C!

Damn. As if my week wasn't fucked up enough already! I'm seriously heartbroken right now. Diamonds up against that wood.

Mets Turn To New York Streets For Pitching Help

By Ronaldo H. Mexico, Dissociated Press Writer WASHINGTON HEIGHTS - A day before baseball's winter meetings begin New York Mets General Manager Omar Minaya believes he may have found a solution for his club's pitching woes. Strangely enough, it doesn't involve trading for American League aces Johan Santana or Danny Haren. Minaya, whose surprisingly smug demeanor in the wake of last September's monumental collapse continues to baffle reporters and fans alike, responded to questions about plans to bolster his team's pitching staff yesterday afternoon during an appearance at the Mets' Clubhouse store in Midtown. "Actually, I am going to a series of very important meetings addressing our pitching needs immediately after I finish scaring these children." Minaya told reporters through an interpreter while cradling a traditional Dominican storybook. "You all are more than welcome to follow me if you want." The Mets executive then murmured a remark that best translates to "No sweat from my balls." Minaya led a handful of sports writers to the Broadway subway line, emerging 20 minutes later from the 145th Street station of the 1 train. After a brief lunch at El Caridad Restaurant he walked his ever-curious flock across the fabled land bridge that has become a rite of passage for now millions of displaced Dominicans. "Welcome to Riverbank State Park. It's getting cold, but you'll still find the hardcore Dominicans out here playing." Hardcore Dominicans they would find indeed. On a 30-degree afternoon and lacking traditional equipment, the gladiators of turf and concrete engaged without regard to the unkind elements. Rudelvyn Santana, whose 94-mph tennis ball rang up 11 inebriated weed dealers also earned him an invitation to a Mets winter league affiliate. "I guess iss the sang chee [same *explicit*], ju know?" Santana bravely questioned without the help of an interpreter. "I put Manny [Ramirez] on his ass right here last summer. Nobody see." The Mets hope Santana can replicate the fortunes of the Cleveland Indians, who three years earlier found a sockless wunderkind on this very astroturf. Most baseball fans are well familiar with Fausto Carmona's sinker. Most aren't familiar with his Wilson tennis ball or blue Super Bounce. "There are just as many Dominicans here in West Harlem as there are in all of Santo Domingo. I let Carmona get away a couple years ago." Minaya said just 2 days after trading top outfield prospect Lastings Milledge to the Washington Nationals for a plate of mangu con salami frito. "From this point forward I plan to take full advantage of my proximity to this overlooked wellspring of talent." Area residents can expect a sharp spike in tennis ball sales from the Rite Aid on the corner of 145th Street and Broadway.

Congratulations, Bone Thugs -N- Harmony!

Despite one member being incarcerated and the other on a 4-year crack binge on the sun, Bone Thugs -N- Harmony as a collective has once again emerged to societal relevance. Their victory last night at the American Music Awards for Best Rap Group, Enslemble, Minstrel Show or Duo certainly warrants some praise for the hardest-working potheads in the Hard-Ass R&B business. As you all know, "Lil' Love" is probably the single that pushed them over the edge. I know Akon's feature on "I Tried" didn't hurt, but Mariah Carey might as well just cut the bullshit and join the group. She can be Bizzy's official replacement, Slurp-N-Bone. Anyway. Congrats again to my favorite rap group from my high school days. Good to see them still puttin in that work and paying that child support. R.I.P. Eazy-E. Use your condoms, children.

I Love New York 2: Hollywood Shuffle

Last week, Miss New York tossed all law and order aside in hopes that one special man may rise to the top of the Turrur Dome. The environment of barbarism and sexual deviance created by her "stoochie-first" philosophy has her home looking like the New York Knicks' practice facility. Are you going to get into the truck? The balls on CB4 to ask all of these guys to sign letters of approval for her decision to bring Buddha back. That's like a Liberian presidential election. You don't agree with what's on your ballot, but you put that shit in the fucking box before we rape and slaughter your family while you watch. How could you expect Tailor Made to sign that shit? This is why we don't trick out on skank ass bitches. She's draining his wallet like she should be draining them balls. Not only is he bald, but he's completely emasculated before the world. Awesome. Eh, I guess he's not to be respected. The man said he didn't want to "grant [Buddha] the satisfaction of looking him in the eyes." That is some serious prison bitch self-justification shit. "Yeah, I gave him my fruit cocktail. I didn't want to grant Nasty Nate the satisfaction of engaging in fisticuffs." It’s not satisfaction to look a man in the eyes. It’s manhood. Making the scenario even more prison yard is Buddha wearing a fucking TWiSM shirt like a nigga that been in the cage since 1994. The challenge for these man-whores was to prepare their finest dish for Miss New York. The performance and presentation of which is to be facilitated by none other than Season 2 "Trick Trick" Award-winner, Mr. Fucking Boston. What the fuck are these producers doing?! Tag-lining the New York/Boston synergy with the recurring mantra: "He always knew what to put in my mouth!" That's fucking horrendous. Especially when all he did was douse whatever was lying around in the fridge with Ranch dressing and shove it in her mouth after midnight. This nigga was food-freakin off on national television! Thie fetish shit needs to be saved for Real Sex 937 over on HBO. Then The Entertainer shows us all his Eye-talian side with a call home to mom for help. “Ma, it’s Frankie. Listen, Ma. I need a nice fuckin' Parmigiana. Let me have the recipe for that cutlet thing you make when Bobby's dad comes over. Yeah. With the Pruschetta and the Ricotta and the LaMotta and the Bambaataa... Yeah. I'm making it for the mulignane broad from the television. Oh, shit. Ma. That's it! Mulignane Parmigina! Thanks, Ma. You're the fuckin' greatest!” Wait. Isn’t Mr. Boston supposed to be dating nasty-ass Pumkin? Yet he and New York are still cool? Something doesn't add up. I love how they threw in that Double Dare curveball. Niggas gotta include nasty-ass Ranch dressing in whatever they were gonna prepare? That's terrible. Everybody knows there ain't no Bambaataa in Hidden Valley Ranch. They turned this shit into a fucked-up episode of "Bottom Chef." Some of these main course ideas aren't going to work out! At least that's what a nigga with some common sense would say before proceeding. One nigga made a fucking cheesecake... with Ranch dressing in it. I wouldn't just spit that shit into a bucket. I would vomit all over the table. Maybe you'd be better off just dealing with the consequences of not including the fucking salad dressing, you ignorant bitch. Buddha said "fuck a Ranch." I don't think he was penalized, either. Then again, he can obviously get away with whatever the fuck he wants if he can manhandle the white boy and still stick around to compete. I was expecting this country-ass nigga Wolf to draw the sheath and show his dick or something. "Ummm. I don't know too much about no cookin and such. But-- I know you like dis hea'!" Just his dick and some Ranch dressing on a plate. Instead he actually makes the tastiest dish. A chicken fajita can go a long way when a woman believes you have a big dick. Unfortunately, it does nothing for your backwards, brain-dead, country ass out in public in the beeeig city. But we'll get back to that. Note: Tailor Made’s shirt says “Good Karma.” Wow. Buddha's ranch-free delights earned him the first date with New York. The program calls it a date. I call it the intro to a black-on-black porno. Buddha: Yeen't even gotta worry about that. I packs the fire hose, no question. I got references and errthang. New York: Oh, damn. Baby, you taste like Valentine’s Day chocolates. Not a Crunch bar… Not a Snickers... She said he tastes like the Whitman's Sampler from Rite Aid. Note to Punk: Your reign on the top was shorter than leprechauns. So we figured out why that porch monkey Wolf was always smiling. Apparently he was always on the brink of flatulence. Combine that with his "Southern charm;" a combination of not knowing shit, not wanting to know shit, and not caring about shit, and you sense the beginning of the end for our backwater friend. Not that New York was any classier. This simple simian really put her lips together to say Dom Perig-nun. Nip/Tuck producer Sean Murphy wanted him some black coffee. He caught that King Kong fever. "Amy... good... gorilla." Viktor Von Doom had to pretend like he gave 2 shits. There were 15 hot, white, freshly-vomited cokewhores out front waiting for him. He didn't want to waste any of his sexual appetite on the crunchy black. Back at the house our hero, Budhha, pulled a serious bitch move. Not to say that cockblocking is wrong given our current situation, but if you'll recall in episode 1, Buddha damn near elbowed It in the mouth for trying to push up while grown folks was talkin. This time around Buddha's the push-up bra. To this new level of disrespect Punk could only whimper “Oh, Buddha.” Repeat "Note to Punk:" As the feeding frenzy progresses, Tailor Made once again relies on his go-to move. After breaking the bank again for some negligee, he presents the booty to his ebony queen. Thinking this would buy him some time to whine to CB4 about his feelings for her and how much he's grown over the past couple of days, Tailor is more shocked than he should have been to have been greeted with the following response: "Fuck what’s on your mind. What’s in the bag? A pack of hair? Oh, I hope it's Indian Remy." I'd personally clean up his brain matter after he blows his head off when he finds out she wore that nig-luh-zhay for Buddha. This is how you know Punk is gay. He thinks because he dropped an "L"-bomb on her that he's got some kind of advantage. At least he recognizes that he's gotta step his shit up. I am intrigued to find out what that's gonna entail. I think he's all out of eyeliner and It is gone, so there's no one to send Larry Fishburne to the store for more. I still don't know what kind of deal with the devil Solomon Wise has worked out. He still hasn't said 4 sentences worth, yet remains on the show. New York knows he has love for her. At least that makes one of us. Did you peep how they did Wise’s captions in Ebonics? Thanks VH1! If it weren't uncomfortable enough to watch your network, I thank you for fully alienating the black audience. Oh, who the fuck am I kidding? Every negro in America will be right back on this shit Monday night. We wanna see how this shit plays out. For now we say goodbye to Wolf, who actually may have been dumber than It. If nothing else, they should have let him drop his pants on the way out. You know New York wanted to know before she sent his Raphael Saaqiq video extra-lookin ass go. I'm appalled. Is that the right word to use in this situation?

I Love New York 2: Catch The Spirit

We embark on the latest installment of "The Quest for Chlamydia" with one question burning in our minds and hearts. Is there redemption for Taylor Dane? Alright, that's probably not what you've been asking all week. If you're anything like me, you were thinking: How terribly cheesy and scripted is their "spiritual encounter" going to be? Instead of using decency and good judgment to gauge the collective moral compass of her suitors, she outsources the services of a professional. New York should have just spared these men the indignity. Instead of letting the shit play out like the Halloween episode of Oz, they should have just huddled up like Peyton Manning and the Colts offense and let New York iron out the details of the play. New York: Alright. I hired this homeless bitch to scare you. Later on the lights are gonna go out and shit is gonna get pulled off the walls with strings by our stage director, Jian Xu Wu. Say "hello" to Jian Xu, everyone! Bitch Niggas: Hey, Jian Xu. Xian Zhi Yu: My name Xian Zhi Yu, bitch! NY: At around 7:30 tonight, I'm gonna be with Tailor Made and the lights are gonna go out. Just continue to play scared. It: What if like, I'm playin... but it's like I ain't really playin? Cuz like, boom. If I don't know if I wanna you know be like in a committedment relation. Then I was like, you want the lemon? Cuz my man was tellin me don't do nothing like... be smart with your heart. NY: Who's your man? It: You know. Thing. NY: No. I don't know. It: Wesley Snipes. That was my man from Queens. That's right. It is one of them NORE-ass Queens niggas. But seriously. That's how contrived I thought the whole spiritual medium/homeless bitch for hire saga was. I know grown men who pay $30 to go to a haunted house this time of year... and they tell me it's way scarier than that. I personally think they are just bitch niggas who senselessly let their bitches talk them into paying $60 for two grown-ass, over-30 motherfuckers to go to a damn haunted house. My pendulum is connected to my balls. [Can/should I "no homo" that? YOU DECIDE! Text "NOHOMO" to MEXICO7 for a "no homo." Text "NONOHOMO" to MEXICO7 to omit the "no homo."] I hate niggas like The Entertainer who throw their work with retards out there like some red chip at Caesar's Palace. "Listen, baby. I work with retarded people because I pity them... and I don't have any porno on the floor." Fuck you. I bet the developmentally disabled people he works with are watching this shit like "No he fucking didn't." He washes the dishes at the center and occasionally pops the kids with a wet towel. P.S.: How can It look like the biggest retard in the house when you're wearing his retardo protection helmet? Good work. Make Wolf swear by the one thing he's divulged about himself to anyone throughout the duration of his time on the show. When he walks through the living room, the rest of them go "Big Dick Man. Oh, shit. It's Big Dick Man." It's all anyone knows about him. I have decided we will call Jonathan "Punk" Plummer by a new name. I must refer to him as "Pug." He looks like a strung-out pug. It's distracting. A pug with a half-done perm and a 5-pound bag of Domino sugar in the tank. It knows that watch ain't from no damn Egypt. He bought it from a nigga he "swear must be Egyptian or something." I'm glad she finally acknowledges him as a fucking idiot. The idiot had a moment of clarity, though. A little brain power from the moron. He knew he could take his Jerry Lewis of the Projects act home without having to suffer the indignity of "winning." There's some genius to the idiot's way of analyzing the current situation. "We ain't never ate chicken wings and french fries on a project bench." So true, It. You ain't got no closer niggas than niggas you done sat and bust down a half chicken with french fries on a project bench with. Alright, maybe not. But at least every nigga you done that with is a nigga you close to, right? I'll take it. I don't like how she makes these niggas address her as "Goddess." Ugh. Fuck your stank-ass beef jerky pussy, talkin about some goddess. I had to seriously pump the brakes when Midget Mac got all personal. What the fuck?! Is this the Jerry Springer show or some shit?! Midget Mac got kids?! Plural?! Multiple kids?! Are they midgets too?! Even worse, Mac has a story of love lost too soon ago. The woman he found to love him and bear his elves somehow died. That is fucking horrendous. The douche that kicked away the midget's ladder? He was with her until 4 months ago. New York: Have you dated anyone since then? Midget Mac: No. I cain't find nobody get low enough in the club. If I told you once, I told you a million times. They wrong for ridiculing this midget. Is it just me, or is Tailor Made's daugther a little dark. I wanna see the wife now, dammit. That kid looked Vietcong. Did anyone else peep Pug's face as Tailor Made insisted on signing after being urged not to by the homeless lady? Nigga is watching like "CURSE HIM! CURSE HIS ASS!" If New York fucks around and ends up choosing Pug, she is gonna go full Terry McMillan. I promise. When he finally leaves her to stop "fishing" with Pretty and live with him full-time, she's gonna score herself a deal writing for Triple Crown Publications. Hire me, Tiffany. I'll take you places. We'll eat through this bread. You don't have to embarrass us anymore. We'll do what we can to de-Muppetize you and we will land your book deal. You don't need to go to school or run spell check or nothin. So, Tailor Made wants to redeem himself at dinner, huh? Well if a reception colder than Isiah Thomas on the Ellen DeGeneres show wasn't enough indication, Dr. Buddha E. B. Dubois'letter pees all over Taylor Dane's popsicle. With all this testosterone on her brain, she needs to take a cigarette break with one of these mens. Which one steps up to the plate? Nate Robinson! "You got futhered pillows in there?" I'm gonna have to agree with Pretty. Midget Mac is the man. His woman probably wasn't even another midget. New York needs to be careful though. You can get 5-10 for tonguing a midget in some states. Midget Mac look like a damn mascot for Nacho Mama at the pool party. What was they playin? Pin the tail on the midget? Hat bigger than him. Walkin about shakin maracas and shit lookin like Babalooey. Awful. Saving Mac from being the freakiest-looking thing in the room is ManBearPig. Back and more boorish than ever, MBP has the audacity to throw her drink at The Entertainer. I don't give a fuck who you are. Disrespect me like that and they gonna have to pull me off of you. I'll make a ManBear jacket and purse out of that bitch. I guess New York needs someone in her corner, though. Tiffany is one of them stupid bitches that will always go for the bullshit. Once she wants you, you can wipe your dick on her forehead and disrespect her. The jury's still out on whether or not The Entertainer is the devil, as MBP claims. However, there is no denying that this man is a fucking moron. "Hmmm. I think this whole Mom-not-liking-me thing is working to my advantage somehow." DING! DING! DING!, Sgt. Asshole! The more you fight MBP, the more Tiff will love you! Why am I disappointed that New York saw her chance to ditch the midget and cite emotional reasons? Tailor Made still married up in the house. You get passed around like a lucy in the detention center yourself. Why can't Mac stick around? I bet if Wolf told you his baby mama died you'd be happy as hell not to have to compete with her for the dick. Peace, Torrey! You're my nigga. You deserve better than both this desertion and this legacy. Peace, It. If I were the guy in charge of coming up with "Friday" installments, I'd cast you in the next one. Make your stupid ass work for sneakers and lemons. My heart skipped a mini beat as I thought Chance was coming back. But, hey. I say: If spit boy can stay, Buddha should be in the house too. Understand now that you have set a terrible precedent and will allow violence to prevail in your home. It's going to be the TerrorDome Pussy Battle Royal presented by Boar's Head.

The Boondocks Catch-Up: Or Die Trying

Gotta love what we're working with on this second season of Black America's finest television program. "Soul Plane 2: The Blackjacking!" Wow. I'm just glad there's someone out there that hates the institution of "Soul Plane" as much as I do. What confuses me though, is how McGruder was able to convince the actual Soul Plane actors to contribute to his denouncement of their work. The 50 Cent was obviously fake, but hysterical. However, if those weren't Mo'nique, Snoop Dogg and Gary Anthony "Flame" Williams' real voices, they had some damn good impersonators. Actually, I don't think it'd be too difficult to get Gary Anthony Williams to engage in his own parody as he does phenomenal work week-in and week-out as the voice of Uncle Ruckus. I know how difficult is for black actors to find work, hence productions like "Soul Plane," "Snakes On A Plane," and any other film involving flying porch monkeys. So perhaps they all had a field negro chitlin break moment. Oh, you don't know what that is? Next time you're having a shitty day on your own respective plantation (office) and you can't do anything but laugh about how tight your neck shackle (collared shirt) is with your fellow slaves (co-workers), be sure to remember what I said. Keeping to the slavery parallel, I too have seen a "funny lynching." I'm sure you're wondering how I could witness such a horrific event and detract humor in any degree, but the bootleg of "Soul Plane" my aunt owned was a clear enough copy. This episode did a great job of outlining The Negro Movie Experience. I used to think the AMC 25 in Times Square was a free theater. You could always get in through the unattended staircase. The last time I went to the movie theater, I shit you not, there was a man right in front of me with a 10-piece from KFC. He even looked back and tried to sell a couple of pieces to my date and I. Of course, we declined. The nigga didn't have any extra crispy, so we weren't interested. "We got one bag of potato chips... Everybody take one chip..." This, of course, was at the Magic Johnson Theater on 125th Street in Harlem. Not that Mr. McGruder needs any of my humble assistance or advice, but they should have had Magic Johnson mumbling all over the screen. "...and we can do it in our own cum-mooom-mit-tee." For the record, bootlegging IS worse than murder. If you bootleg, how the hell can Magic Johnson afford all them pre-workout AZT cocktails? If we don't pay to see Soul Plane, we're killing everyone who engages in irresponsible, raw dog sex in every city they find themselves. I can't live with that kind of shit on my conscience. Can you? It doesn't hurt that I've purchased several bootlegs with everything Riley yelled prevalently ingrained in them. "Move, nigga. Sit down. You gay! Booooooo!" Alright. Gotta run. My aunt invited me over to watch her newly-acquired bootleg of "Madea's Baat Mitzvah." I hate Tyler Perry too, but I can't wait to see if Madea tries to cornmeal fry the gefilte fish.

No, I Don't Watch Fucking "Heroes!"

If I wanted to see fake-ass X-Men I'd pay homeless people in sandwiches to reenact it like everyone else does. I'm finally fully over the flu. Thanks for the well wishes! Here's your week ahead: Tuesday - "Boondocks" Catch-Up Wednesday - "I Love New York," "Boondocks" Catch-Up Thursday - "The Salt 'N Pepa Show" Catch-Up, "Boondocks" Catch-Up Friday - "Gotti's Way" Catch-Up, "Boondocks" Catch-Up Saturday - "Run's House" Catch-Up You get the picture. Now here's the deal: Flu aside, you see I got a lot of catch-up to do. I'm probably gonna have to drop one of these series. Which one would you miss the least? Speak now, or don't say shit when your "Gotti's Way" is discontinued.

I Love New York 2: Fight Club

What is the first rule of "I Love New York?" We do not talk about "I Love New York." There's certainly been far more hatred than love juice being sprayed about in the VH1 Rent-A-Mansion on this week's installemnt of "I Love New York." My theory of males coexisting in close quarters more harmoniously than females has officially been debunked. The bitch niggas are showing their menstrual stains at an alarming rate, behaving more and more like their female counterparts on "Flavor of Love." I don't know if the producers have nudged them into this direction, but the season has certainly taken a turn for the interesting. I was wondering when some of these niggas were gonna start gettin slapped around. Right off the bat Buddha fucks up and splashes Taylor Dayne with orange juice. Shit, after that you might as well dig into his ass. The baby headbutt that sent Tailor scampering about the house like a 7-year-old girl when you lash her with the extension cord should have opened the floodgates for a full-on ass beating complete with assault charges. Fuck it! Get your money's worth, son! I was glad to see Buddha pin him to the wall and mush him around like The Health Inspector about to get a piece but... you get the idea. You open up that asshole, climb in, trash the bitch, spray-paint "Buddha Was Here," climb out and close the asshole behind you. After all that Buddha got the nerve to cry like Michael Clarke Duncan at the end of "The Green Mile." "I lost sight of what I came here for, boss! I don't deserve to live. *sniffle*" Nigga, you lost sight for more than three fuckin minutes. You been sayin that shit for the past 3 episodes! "It's to the point where my hatred for him surpasses my love for New York." I understand that's only natural. How could you love the daughter of the ManBearPig? She's only slightly more Man than BearPig. She's Man-ManBearPig! Still detestable and ceremonially unclean before the Lord. Which brings me to my next point: I believe we've discovered a new out for these men who've had enough of sucking on wildebeest toes and the like. When you're ready to leave this shithole you'll be associated with for the rest of your life, you can do so with a shred of dignity and without having to fuck a mythological Muppet beast by fighting! Ah, ha! Instant expulsion! You can't make me win this contest! If they have a season 3, I might jump on that bitch just to beat somebody's ass. There couldn't have been a more appropriate challenge for these guys than a damn fight! However, when they brought out the surprise combatants I was expecting Larry Holmes or Leon Spinks or some shit. When I saw a half-dozen female kickboxers, I about lost it. Freaky Deeky! Inexplicably, the rules indicate that the contestants can't strike back. What kind of shit is this?! I wanted my fucking money back. How the hell are they gonna deprive us of the opportunity to watch Midget Mac put his "Midgtisu" on those hoes? Seriously, I'm supposed to stand there for 6 minutes and get wailed on by some kickboxer lady? She's trained. I'm not. At least let a nigga see if he can keep her off him with a combination or two. That's only fair. Fuck that chivalry shit. If a woman is coming at me with the intention of doing me harm, she's getting popped in the jaw just like a nigga. I said it. I'll stand over her like Ali and everything. "Shouldn't have come at me with that curling iron." Psycho-ass Entertainer was Freaky Deeky with it indeed. He looked like he loves nothing more than to pop a ball-gag in his mouth and let a bitch beat his ass to no end. I kinda felt bad for Wolf. You can tell he got his ass beat because they were jealous of his hair. Not that I'm complaining or anything, but why were there 30 Muy-Thai bitches beating on It? Solomon Wise did 20 Pack pretty damn dirty, but he needed to. Up until today's episode, no one knew he existed. He kept getting a chain though. She sent Man-Man home for "not stepping up" when Wise ain't kicked no game, no ass, no freestyle, nothing. Wise's greasiness ended up being better strategy for the team though. His solo effort won New York's attention and he was able to bring Lloyd from Entourage right along with him. All's well that ends well, right? So beloved was Mr. Wise, the new "Whiteboy," that the original ManBearPig invited him inside the house, out from the field to eat some of the good parts of the pig. Of course, such generosity from massa comes at a price. As expected, Sister Patterson, in front of the rest of the house niggers, asked the Wise One to join her stable as a Designated Snitch. Upon his prompt and immediate decline, she uninvited Mr. Wise from the table and told him to leave his food behind. This bitch is not a good look for the church. Being that ManBearPig (which Al Gore has proven is real, by the way) bears no weight on the elimination decisions, I expected a "Spartacus" moment. All of the "Mama's Boys" should have left the table in a show of solidarity. "We're not Mama's Boys. We're New York's Men!" Again, nuances of the current situation notwithstanding, I expected such behavior from niggas of dignity, honor and character. Qualities you can't expect from a contestant on a program of this nature. With Tailor Made alive and free to work we are still blessed with the privilege of observing the culmination of all the worst parts of a man at once. I feel like I’m watching Ryan O’Riley at work in Em City. Tailor's latest and greatest hit? Let's pull a Wendy Williams and start up some gay rumors! The Salem Switch Hunt begins with Pretty. While I though him to be playing for the away team all season long, VH1 knew they had to drop that arts and crafts clip on us. “Glittler! Hey, we had a glitter marker here, y’all! I didn’t even know.” Mmm-hmm. Tailor Made is oh, so wrong... but he's right. Once again doing the right thing is Mr. Wise, who brings 20 Pack, the ring partner he shafted, along for the date with New York. He didn't have to do that. He could have enjoyed a day at the spa alone with his Chocolate Animal Woman. CB4 wasn't at all interested in anything spa-like. As per usual, this whore was hungry. As I've learned from experience, hungry hoes cannot be derailed from their focus of breaking your pockets to fill their bellies. She said "Fuck the mud. I’m trynna EAT. I love new experiences, especially when they involve eating. Oooh. I ain’t never ate on the water before!" Instead of getting to know this woman better, or trying to make himself more appealing, Wise elects to discuss how much he hates Tailor Made. This obviously backfires as New York appreciate Tailor's general sheistiness because... she’s a sheisty bitch. He plays the game exactly the way she did... with a splish-splash of Red Oyster. While Tailor is in the house terrorizing Pretty, Look no further than the 20 Pack for homosexuality. He kissed her like her lips were covered in shit. That's supposed to be the woman you really want? Mmmm-hmmm. We don't believe you. You need more people. So, back on the plantation, when confronted by Wise, Tailor Made tells the aspiring rapper to fuck himself. To this Wise responds: "Where I’m from, that’s an insult." Word, Wise? I see where the name comes from. You're intuitive as fuck, dude! I mean, it's not like "Go fuck yourself" is an insult where everybody's from. I wanna know what deep dark place he used to be at 2 years ago that would have made this scenario play out so much differently. Were you Ed Wuncler, or Gin Rummy? After continually jawing Tailor out from close range, T-Made decides to step shit up a notch. In an attempt to kill 2 birds in one episode, he pulls a Pumkin and spits in Mr. Wise's face. I love how everyone is like "Ooooh! That's what Pumkin did to New York!" Spit warrants at least an attepmted murder charge. Wise had a clean shot too. After finally sounding like a rapper with his 106 & Park-ready chorus of “I’ll murder you, son,” Wise looked Tailor Made in his eyes and renigged on firing away. Man, Tailor Made's jaw would have been across the room if that was your boy. He would have had to dribble on the next nigga. Having fucked up royally, NY Visit #45 intends to clear Taylor Dane's his regarding the spit. After barely dodging 3 ass-beatings on the day, New York almost beat his ass yet again. You could hear the pain of Cicely Tyson in her voice as she lambasted him with a riveting “You’s a dumbass!” and hit him in the asshole with the doorknob on the way out. Hmmmmmm. So generally being an all-around conniving cunt of a man is accepted and encouraged, but the moment you rear back your head to spit on someone, you're then deplorable. Damn this is a stupid, twisted bitch. The obvious drawback to Tailor's game is the imminent ostracizing he must face. His Mama's Boy roommates Pretty and Punk City did him like "Waiting to Inhale!" They had his bitch-ass clothes out in the garden. I hear that. But I'm no fool. They just used this as an excuse for some privacy. They can finally fuck in peace. Being that Buddha knocked himself out earlier, there was only one elimination to be made. You'd think the shit was pretty obvious being that Tailor Made spit in someone's face, right? Wrong! When this bitch kicked 20 Pack to the curb I couldn't believe my eyes and ears. I know that Filipina girlfriend set off your gaydar but can't you deal with that next episode? Doesn't he deserve to stay more than the guy who spit on another man? If I weren't embarrassed enough already, I'd walk the fuck out. At least Nico's now free to go back to his first love... Choroegraphy!

The Salt & Pepa Show: What? A Man?!

That wasn't so long ago, Saltine? Was it? This week on "The Salt & Pepa Show." The girls try to find someone who can fill the void Mr. O.P.P. Man left in Sandy's heart and vagine. A charismatic older dude in a green suit and gold hat told me the two were connected. He also rambled on about "schooling me to some game," but he lost me at "best bottom bitch." Damn, you guys are right! Pepa is looking like a forgotten Jackson sister with that new nose. Fuck. She couldn’t do coke if she wanted to. That shit so tight. Them nostrils gotta be the tightest holes left on her body, huh? Before the caveman search had come to fruition, I couldn't help but think about what 2-years of pent-up Amazon freakiness is gonna do to that first nigga. 2 years without dick? Really? That is a looooooong ass herpes outbreak. The first date we witness is a double between Cheryl and the black Labrador she refers to as her husband, and Pepa accompanied by the first nigga off the Rikers Island bus. I know looks aren't everything, but this dude reminded me of my man from "One-on-One". No, not Shanice's husband. I guess a 2-year banana sabbatical will have you ready to fuck anything. Speaking of Flex... What kind of nigga gonna have the nerve to ask a question like this in front of his date and her married friends?: "Ummm... Are you flexible with monogamy?" Negro, you askin Salt-N-motherfuckin-Pepa?! You ain’t hear the interlude at the end of “Very Necessary.” I'm still scarred by that shit! She got AIDS forever! Not for play, play! I never endorse the notion of paying a matchmaker to hook someone up. First of all, this matchmaker they saw will only bring back all the niggas he didn’t fuck. Secondly, if you can't find someone worth your time within your extensive friend circle, then maybe that's part of the damn problem. You need to stop surrounding yourself with ain't-shit bitches and the ain't-shit niggas they attract. Damn, it must be hard out here for these women when even S&P can't find a decent man out here. I wish there were enough Ronaldo for all of you. With that said, Salt wins the "Oh, please bitch!" Award. She went to the matchmaker's office and turned away like 5 quality niggas under the guise that "Pep wouldn't like them." Meanwhile, Pep is at home trying to fit a fucking ottoman into her honey hole! Pep would have liked ALL of those niggas! Shit, Pep would have liked all of those niggas at ONCE! YOU didn’t like them, you miserable bitch! Pep would have taken all them motherfuckers on at once like Grace Jones in "Conan the Destroyer." What does she hook her friend up with instead? Oh, of course. The nerdiest youth minister in her congregation. If I were Pep I would have turned to Salt and knocked her the fuck out. She's probably sitting at that table thinking "I wonder what the fuck Spinderella is getting into right now." The funny thing is Salt got her Christian brother backsliding! He was ready to David Alan Grier that shit. His mouth is saying all the right shit, but his eyes are saying "Damn. It's been 17 years since I had me a nice titty fuck." The Devil had him ready to put his hands on breastesses that wasn't his. You know it was on his biscuits because he was like "Let's Talk About Sex" entirely unprovoked. "How do you feel about premarital sex?" Nigga, ain’t nobody trynna fuck you! Why you askin the fuckin questions?! You didn't neeeeeever have to worry about that. Salt, you done fucked up doubly. Pepa is a whole new degree of bored and lonely, your youth minister friend just went home to jerk off, how about you and Jesus take a break from matchmaking for a little bit?

iPhone Commercial with Happy Negro Pilot

Everyone in your control tower needs to be castrated. Cut their balls off like Tyler Durden. You mean to tell me a goofy-ass nigga sitting in a plane on his iPhone can tell the team of Rhesus monkeys in the control tower that the air is clear for takeoff? What is he flying? The Soul Plane? Unless he flies for NWA, I'm calling bullshit, Mr. Jobs.

I Love New York 2: The Empire Strikes Out

Tailor [Bitch-]Made has been a busy little hair plug this week, hasn’t he? In the mold of the great Red Oyster before him, Tailor Made has been doing his damndest to keep the shit pot well stirred. Little did we all know, he’d chosen to fuck with “the wrong one,” as they say in the ghetto. *snicker snicker* After Tailor snitched out Cedric the Entertainer’s Comic View routine to Midget Mac, he expected to see some Battier-on-black crime up in that motherfucker. Instead, much to his surprise, The Entertainer danced around the charging midget and ran up on Tailor Made all psycho-like. This is hysterical on two counts: 1. The Entertainer ain't want no anna with Mac. Who wants to take the risk of getting their ass handled by a little person on national television? I mean, I'm pretty sure I could punt him across the room, but who knows? Maybe he’s been punted before and knows how to handle himself in such a situation. 2. Tailor Made was shocked as hell that Battier’s attention would turn to him. Everyone else is familiar with the premise of snitches getting stitches, but Tailor’s heart jumped out of his hair transplant when the action turned directly to him. In response to the afternoon’s display of bitch-dom, The Down Low Coalition of Buddha, 20 Pack, Punk, Ceddy, Wolf and Pretty pulled off a pretty damn excellent prank. Using an old challenge card, they convinced all of the guys to stand out by the pool for hours like there was free cheese to be had. As per plan, Tailor Made and It stayed out all morning like some simp-ass bitches. If I had to stand out there with fucking It all night they’d find me in the morning alone. I’d have turned his buffoon ass over to the Klan or something. The real challenge, as presented by Big Gay Pun, was to come up with a commodity of some kind that would further the Tiffany “New York” Pollard empire… Hold up. Did this bitch have the audacity to call what her life has amounted to an “empire?” Wow. We’re really getting looser with the written language the longer we’ve been allowed to use it, huh Black America? Shut your fucking face, unclefucker! Pardon me for placing 20 Pack in the “Down Low Coalition” earlier. This man is gay as hell. The first idea that comes out of his sugar-crusted mouth is making an “I Love New York” iPod with glitter and sprinkles and shit. They’ve been doing that shit in Greenwich Village since iPods were invented. You can go down to St. Mark’s Place right now and find a nigga that look just like 20 Pack gluing sequins on pink iPod nanos. I can’t do The Entertainer’s mockery of business school education any more justice than Man-Man did. “He went and got a liquor bottle and put a fuckin’ cape on it.” Better still, he want’s to market this as cologne. It's a bottle of Bombay Sapphire! Ridicule aside, that’s far from the worst idea for furthering your emp--… Ugh. I can’t say it. Anybody who’s anybody is out there trying to hock some funky-ass yak piss in a swanky bottle. I love how the white boy, Cheezy, thinks Blaxploitation is the way to push CB4 to the next level. That’s both funny and genius on a few different levels. Shit. Anything is better than It’s suggestion of a home AIDS test. Wow. 2-for-2 on the stereotypes, retardos. Good work! Last thing I wanna see is It the Propylactic King on BET telling kids to Rap-It-Up because by nature I’m going to do the opposite of ANYTHING he tells me. If he is out there urging safe sex, I’m goin raw. Every time. That nigga can't even say "Rap-It-Up!" Did you hear that scrambled slave chatter that came out of his mouth when he tried to explain why he was sleep-standing with Cheezy? Jesus. When did “voluptuous” become insulting to women with ginormous ass and titties? Shit. It’s better than what they used to call New York. “Hey, nasty bitch with the big ass and titties!” In a strangely ironic way I’m glad Cheezy Tarantino and them won the challenge. I can see it now: “Did you see a sign out front that said "Dead Hooker Storage?" Then why the fuck is Hoopz in my garage with half of her brain blown the fuck off?” They tickled her acting clitoris. Obviously an aspiration to act is why she’s here. The plan just went terribly wrong somewhere and she ended up with Flavor Flav’s charcoal stick in her mouth. Sometimes the road to Hollywood is bumpy, y’all. What I wasn’t pleased to see is how Tailor Made played Cheezy de Bergerac. However, regardless of Cheezy’s role in the project, she was gonna have one-on-one time with the man whose dictate the best. Yes, Tailor is a pathetic bastard. A woman with some common sense would at this point be wondering why he’s so happily separated! His wife sold him to you over the phone like a broke down Camaro! I also love the nerve behind the challenge! CB4 talkin bout her man need be prepared to cover a magazine with her. Really?! I think what she meant to say was: “Any man who wants be with me better prepare to be on the cover of Black Tail.” What did Tailor Made think that telling New York he finds The Toe-Sucker dangerous? You KNOW that's only gonna make a stupid ho like New York want him more. I hate to beat a dead crackhead, but, it's like we forgot she fucked Flavor. By the way, toe-sucking is where I cross the line as far as what I can and cannot watch. I sat through Chance and Tango back-to-back sex scenes last season. I can’t watch a nigga come up with some candy corns in this one. I'm glad Buddha let out his frustration with the Tailored one, but I'm not sure how I feel about the fact that his "digsust for" another nigga "surpasses his love for [New York]." In principle, that sounds kinda bitch made. I gives a fuck about the next man, you know? Focus, Buddha! Bring that skank home! Tango ain't fuckin' with you, son! Wise hasn’t said 2 words on this program and keeps advancing. I almost feel bad mentioning him because he hasn’t warranted it. I saw the preview for next week though. I think his first words are going to be "I'll FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU FUCK!" It came as little surprise to me that Cheezy and Man-Man went home. If she's sending home two at a time, she might as well cut the bullshit and drop the ones she's not attracted to. With that said, isn't winning a challenge supposed to count for something? If this is how she's gonna play it, niggas might as well go the Wolf route and whip out their dicks... start sucking on toes or something. There are 10 left right? That's a nigga per toe with Midget Mac on the Della Reese pinkie.

Gotti's Way Double-Up: "Redemption's Song" b/w "Who's Your Daddy?"

"Whattup, Gotti?!" -Ja Rule, 2003/Ron Mexico, 20 minutes ago I don't know what's more ironic, my insistence upon this song as definitive of the Murder Inc. philosophy on hit-making (not to mention appropriate background music for the blog), or Bobby Brown wearing a Len Bias jersey... especially given the events of the past week. What the fuck?! Bobby probably left the final 8-ball in Len's lap. Really. What kind of sick bastard would own and wear a Len Bias jersey? I'm sorry. I'll leave the rest of what I thought of this video back on the hideous, green hip-hop-flavored website. It's the "Talkin' Videos" series' inaugural Throwback Thursday, ya know. Heh. Heh. When you're winning, fight like you're losing" -Irv "Gotti" Lorenzo We all saw the trial, heard the phone conversations with 'Preme on BET, saw "Get Rich or Die Trying." We know the backdrop. But let me ask you all this. Does any nigga know how to leave a courthouse with class?! Does a nigga always gotta "George Jefferson walk outta federal court?" Not that I anticipate him having anything to celebrate, I sure as hell hope Michael Vick handles day with dignity. You're now the most beloved black man in America, according to The Negro Channel. Here's episode 1 in a spent hollow-point shell: -Washed-up, cheatin'-ass Irv put a Kool-Aid pitcher's worth of sugar into some pasta sauce to show us he's a loving and devoted father. -His ex-wife, Deb sure does complain a lot for being a kept bitch with no degrees or discernible skills. How dare she insult a woman out here in the world busting her ass to raise some kids by complaining on national television about how hard her life is. Shit. Let me be somebody's kept bitch. I'll be Meryl Streep's kept bitch. I don't give a fuck. Meryl. Holler at a nigga 'bout that "Mandingo Madness" Snapple. -Irv offers to buy a new house for his family with his new Capital One Platinum card. His wife doesn't want to move because the house she already lives in is already paid for and she knows too many rap wives back in the projects for making one house-jump too many. Smart, KB (kept... you know). The kids just know they're already "the shit" in their town. They don't want have to go through the drama of explaining to a whole new school full of kids who their daddy is and why they shouldn't be called "Blackie." -I was about to give KB the nod in the "intelligence" category until I saw her hanging out with DMX's wife. *whistle* We have a flag on the play. Roughing the Crackhead. 15-yard penalty. Must re-prove intelligence. Whitney Houston was waiting for them off camera in the ladies' room. -VH1 duped all of us into thinking that Russell Simmons shit on Irv Gotti at a lunch table. Them's MexicoNotes. You'll soon be able to find them at fine retailers such as: Barnes & Noble, Borders, Target, Duane Reade, WalMart & Genovese. Cut the fucking check, RiteAid! I think Ja actually has a serious record in the tube though. He's screaming again. He's not whining about bitches and raindrops. It's cool. If nothing else, the exposure this program garners certainly won't hurt Ja's promotional push. Actually, it's plenty good for Murder Inc. as a whole. Shit, I didn't even know Vanessa "A Thousand Miles" Carlton was on the label! I'm just sayin. She had the brothers at "Makin' my way downtown./" On the other side of the hot comb, we have Lloyd, who beat the shit out of the planet earlier this year with "You," featuring Lil' Weeziana. He'll also keep the kiddies krumping with the immortal FEMA Freestyle classic "Get It Shawty." Back at the homefront, his stepdaughter, Angie, who raped his heart with a strap-on, is starting to get picked on at school because... well... her daddy laundered drug money to make Thuggin' Love Monster Ballads. Even more piercing than the usual teasing, someone at school was bold enough to pull the "he's not your REAL daddy" card on Angie. To this Irv retorts: "I'm my kids' daddy. I don't give a fuck. I'll beat a 15-year-old ass worse than Tony Yayo." We need so much more of this in our community. I'm all for the young junglebunnies having daddies! In an age where so many men walk away from their own children, it's nice to see a man stepping up for a nut he didn't even drop. The funny shit is that in New Rock City, the kid who talkin shit about your daddy probably can't name theirs. Irv wisely chose to take a step back and talk it out Angie Gotti after sending her to Lloyd's 106 & Park appearance. I learned a few things from this outing. First, Angie is a huge bitch. She's cute, though. No Kelly! If Gotti ever fucks Lloyd over with the contract, he knows he can fuck his daughter in return. Shit, he can probably fuck KB too. Doesn't Lloyd look kinda like Sammy Davis, jr., jr., jr.? After putting in obligatory time with the kids and the KB, Irv Daddy is still man enough to take out the trash in the house he paid for, but can't live in. He's a bigger man than I. I'd have just stepped over that shit and gave that naggy ho the stiff-arm. That's right, the Ghetto Heisman. Sheeeeeit. She could be taking that shit to the incinerator in the middle of the floor with the other 7 project apartments on it. Ah. I'm building my castle of love. "This is what we buildin' here [on Ron Mexico City]! Classic SHIT!!!" -Ja Rule, 2003/Ron Mexico, really recently

The Salt & Pepa Show: Don't Push It!

Salt & Pepa's here... --But ain't shit in effect for these girls anymore. As expected on VH1, home of Celebreoverty, the dynamic duo hasn't been excited enough to "Shoop" since they were blurring the Hilfiger logos out of rap videos. The premiere of "The Salt & Pepa Show" did a fine job of explaining the premise of the estrogen war that the series is based upon. Cheryl "Salt" Ward done put down the chocolate magic sticks of the male video hoes (yes, a man can be a video ho) and got saved while her counterpart, Sandy "Pepa" Denton is still trying to live with Treach aftershock. Y'all saw "Love With A Bullet." That man left a paper towel tube-sized cavern where her coochie used to be. My partners and I had a pool going for when the obligatory waterfall of tears would begin. I thought they were gonna break in 5 minutes. They held out for an astonishing 6. Upon hearing of the opportunity to rock a Shaq party Pepa had that look on her face that said "Break out the 8-Ball jackets, bitch!" However, Salt is less than thrilled at the notion of being surrounded by the likes of Stephon Marbury and other nefarious, sexual deviant types. Their manager looked like Lieutenant Daniels watching Herc and Carver argue over where to get the best catfish sandwich in West Baltimore. The two debrief in very different ways. While Pep chooses to cackle it up with the cast of "Living Single" at Applebee's, Salt takes the issue up before her prayer group. Saltine's little vanilla prayer group buddy was like "Get your ass out there and bring those tithes to the congregation!" Damn. Salty dangles the threat of leaving like she's fucking A-Rod. This is why you gotta have solo shit going on. I don't understand. Treach could write for Latifah, but he couldn't help Pep get an LP off? I refuse to believe Latifah had better head game. Flavor Flav couldn’t hold PE back, right? Case in point, Pepa really suggested changing the first line of her "Whatta Man" verse to "a body like Obama." That nigga got a body like Skeletor with a Somalian face. She really couldn't come up with something better? Even Salt's 9-year-old high-yellow altar boy is like "Mom, that shit is lame." At rehearsal we get a little lesson in Pep-ology 102. Apparently "interact" is Pep for “freak off.” The band was having trouble playing with that "Black Chicks Loving Dick" routine going off. She couldn't defend that one. She gave the nigga sim-dome. Upon finding out that Shaq reconsidered having old, pregnant bitches running around in his function, Salt thought it a good idea to have Pepa, who only has strip-club training, rock the church bells. I could only think to myself "Oh, please freak off at church!" That's exactly the degree of jackassery that VH1 is hoping for out of you. Pep fronted on the idea at first but saw the big ass stage and was cool with it. I'm a little upset that they left out Salt's warning though. "We at church, so please don’t deep throat the mic in front of Pastor Bernard." I thought the idea was pretty cool though, mane. Church members deserve a show like that from time to time. Shit. If I pay 10% of my income to some sweaty, neckbone-eatin nigga yelling at me every Sunday, I wanna see a high-quality show from time to time. I can tell from the retard squad they had dancing in the background that these people must have been long overdue for something like this. Pep did do her little freak dip, but cupping her ass only brought more attention to the situation. I didn't have my 3/4 boner until Salt offered that sisterly support I always fantasized about. I can't wait for the rest of the misadventures we must be in for this season of "How Thelma and Louise Got Their Groove Back." There are some serious philosophical differences between these two broads. Something's gotta give, right?

2007 BET Hip-Hop Awards Recap

Fashiggadle, my niggadle. Where da marbles? It's your number one higgadizzle, Ronnie Theeizz from The Bay. Oooooooh! They had Forty Water workin his ass off didn't they? Nigga said "Why sit around this bitch spending money when I could be getting paid." I ain't mad at it. I'm over here tycoonin and campaignin, ya smiggadelle me? Did I say "coonin?" The 2007 installment of The Negro Channel Awards for the Highest Form of Negroid Expression Awards of Atlana (TNCAHFNEAA) were a marked improvement over last year's embarrassment to the race. Bearing the mantra "Style. Substance. Swagger," *gags* this year's played more like a work-related weekend seminar entitled "The Artisan and the Need for his Revival." Even the closing credits menaced: "Founder, Be Creative: Stop Putting Only Cars and Girls In Videos Movement - Stephen G. Hill" Oooooh. BET has dropped the noose for all ignorant niggas to see. However, I believe this is the man whose name appears at the end of "ComicView" as "V.P. of Funny," so I don't trust a word that comes out of this nigga mouth. I'm glad they have a foundation in place for this affliction, but I'll believe in it's effectiveness when it shows signs of paying for more than Donnie Simpson's Dr. Miracle subscription. That was his pension from "Video Soul." A lifetime's supply of Dr. Miracle's Scalp Scorching Pomade. "Why be your dark, ugly, nappy-ass self when you can have 'good hair' and impress people?" "Bitch. You need a miracle!" Anyway... After a Crackhouse Couture-adorned Kanye West shouted off-key for about 5 minutes over the entire fucking New York Philharmonic, LL Cool J, looking equally homeless, presented Common with the first on-screen award of his 16-year professional rap career. That is a god-damned travesty. BET had to hit him in the head with two for good measure. Astride the Lane Bryant-edition Phantom, or at least it look like a Phantom, Katt Williams glides to his throne. This little nigga didn't even bother to get his hair done or nothin. This ain't no HBO shit, so dude was lie "Fuck it. I will step up in this bitch looking exactly how I did when I woke up in Damon's loving arms this morning." I see it must be Lil' Wayne's weekend with the kids. Nigga had the whole Fresh Air Fund with him. He murdered "Gossip" and was well-deserving of the MVP award this season. He definitely dropped about 81 on niggas in 2006-07. They didn't need to keep refilling his Hennessey cup though. Halfway through the program he wasn't speaking English anymore. I also see that the Michael Vick Atlanta Falcons jersey has become the new official flag of the United States of Niggerdom. I guess I missed the performance when T.I. rocked on "The Love Boat," huh? When Nelly performed his new garbage and the little girl came up to knock on his belt buckle, I was like "Is he about to pee on that little wench?" I bet that would have secured his title for next year's "Move The Crowd" award. I'm also elated to see Nelly and Ashanti still going strong. The two of them are one flop away from the permanent exit sign. God, if you exist, please don't let them have any children! Don't nobody wanna see the hairy, horseface little gremlins that would sprout forth from Ashanti's Glen Cove. I agree 100% with MC Lyte. These bitches need to listen to the niggas that’s respecting the bitches. Speaking of bitches, Hurricane Chris' little toddler hypeman is really cute until you lean down to his eye level. At face-to-bandana level you'll notice that he got a .22 in his back pocket. Lil' Boosie came out looking like the King of Turdministan with that purple robe on. I could imagine you'd need to wear something as gaudy as that to ensure that no one tries to flush you while you're walking around human beings. I thought he was Randy Marsh's mega-shit that took the crown from Bono. YEAH! YEAH! YEAH! YEAH! YEAH! *points at readers indiscriminantly* Wyclef Jean, The #1 Hatian by default because he has running water in his home, is really on some Jimi Hendrix shit. I see Clef on that "Spanish Castle Magic." He’s very far away. It’d probably take about a half a day to get there if you travel by… Lauryn’s vagina. Busta Rhymes can still motivate me to kill just like when I saw "Higher Learning" for the first time. Black fist all over that ass! Don’t let me listen to the “Ante Up” remix. I’ll go rob somebody in the train station right now! I’m glad they cast Ciara in “Mama I Want To Learn To Sing.” That’s some thoughtful shit. When Common performed I wanted that nigga to get close enough for me to rest my empty glass on his arm. What the fuck was he doing with Kanye’s tight-ass white jacket on? What was he, waiting tables and shit? I want some of whatever Cornel West was tokin on. I was gonna make a Vick joke about that dog if Katt wasn’t! I had my shit ready! Fluffy saw a lot of Vick jerseys in that audience. Little nigga knew what time it was. He ain’t wanna come out. Since Kanye was in the mood to give awards back, maybe he should have given back that “Move The Crowd” shit too. Big Boi showed some class. Ronnie Thizzle would have went up there an been like “You’s a special kind of megalomaniac, ain’t ya, little nigger?” I mean, damn. Whatever the fuck the Louis Vuitton Don conceives is how it’s just supposed to be, huh? If you're anything like me, you're waiting for that Jena 6 album to drop. Them niggas came up looking like S.A.S. Diplomats or some shit. They sounded like Huckleberry Finn, but they looked like them tea and crumpet niggas. I did not know it was okay to dress like Jim Jones in Louisiana if you weren't Lil' Wayne. Did we really have to sit through like 10 minutes of Soulja Boy at the end? I don’t wanna shit on anyone’s dance craze. "Walk It Out" helped me realize the error in that logic. On the one hand I realize a dance is a dance, but if it looks like a plantation chorus line then goddammit that’s what the fuck it look like. How about we "Summer School dat ho?!" "Lean to the left and crack that history book" or some shit. Anyway, I'll be holding BET accountable to this new standard they have affixed themselves to this week. If I don't see changes, there will be hell to pay. Now YUUUUUUUUUUULE!

I Love New York 2: Into The Lake of Fire

This week on "19 Freaks and a Midget," Miss New York tests her stable's propensity to accelerated adaptation by tossing about 15 porch monkeys into a lake. Whosoever pleases the Cockness Monster the most via natural selection earns one-on-one time with the whore, the myth and the legend all at once. ...and I still wait for the letter carrier to bring me my O.J. prize. Damn, Midget Mac really is Bushwick Bill. I wonder what it was like for him in prison. You'd think Mac was the most ridiculous looking guy in the room, but Knockout is right next to him wearing a retard safety helmet. Yours looks like a 1950s pimp and sounds like Deion Sanders sucked on a helium balloon. If it weren't for the fact that he's been branded more times than a gimpy horse, I'd say he looks like he used to hustle with Brother Malcolm back in the day. Hey, I'm just glad the nigga escaped. What the shit?! Everybody shitting on Unsure for his recycled gift when Yours drew a sketch of Aretha Franklin and gave it to Tiff. That wasn't even young Aretha neither. That was "fitty-leven neckbone with bacon in the sweet potatoes" Aretha. It took him six hours to do that shit? I can't believe that. I can get a terrible portrait from a little Asian man in Times Square in about 7 minutes. Still, she ain’t have to do him like that. Hey, I can't take compassion on a collective of dudes vying for the affections of such a horrible bitch anyways. As weak as the titty shirt was, that was still more creativity than I expected from It. Tony Sunshine Cake's megaphone introduction was so ominous! "Midget Mac! Get your little ass in the water and flap those frog legs." Mac seen his uncle drown, but he mannin up. I think they popped his shit on purpose! I’d be less than surprised to find out that ManBearPig is on the other side with a dart blower. God bless Buddha for doing some shit a regular nigga is supposed to do. "Buddha is impressing me so much by exhibiting the human decency that no other man on the shore would." I see Unsure bought that jacket for his chunky girlfriend back home. I'm glad we were able to hear the niggas in the background making the Canal Street jokes. That jacket was the gaudy kind of shit that fake Canal Street classics are made of. I, for one, think the Bootleg Garment Workers of the American Underworld (BGWAU) needs to unionize. I can't imagine how long it took Ling-Ling to sew all them Ds, Gs and ampersands all over that jacket. Must have taken... about as long as it took her pops to draw that Aretha. Wolf and Knockout brought them aexual chocolates. "Listen, baby! The chocolate penis shooting vanilla icing has no sexual connotation. I promise!" New York was like "Fuck the Buddha bear." That nigga could have swam over with a turd in his palm and she would have sucked it out of his hand. Terry McMillan's ex-husband, Punk, is looking for the camera more than New York. Tailor Made continues to test CB4's the inner and outer ho with some Manolos. After being made aware that he was one of the lake champions (along with Buddha Lova & Tailor Made) Midget Mac breakdances to celebrate. I was pretty stoked to see that he didn't break out the cardboard or sand. How does midget cologne work? Does it come in a little "Alice in Wonderland" bottle? I guess you don't want him using the wrong proportion, right? I can't think of anything worse than a midget reeking of Usher's funky ass cologne. He'd be like a little tear gas grenade running around pulling out chairs for bitches. “I should go to jail for being so fresh.” No, little nigga. You should go to jail for robbing Lazarus Kids' on 125th Street... Except for that shirt. That's a regular-size nigga shirt, and I was waiting for him to trip on it. The funny/great thing is that New York is really diggin on Mac Daddy. He's starting to GROW on her. She's even looking for Ranch dressing to go with his tossed salad. I am so not down with this! Midget Mac seems like a genuinely good guy and deserves better. It is gonna suck when she crushes his little balls on national. I don't know why Unsure even mentioned the pre-owned bootleg jacket in the first place, but good play by Cheezy to deflect the snitch. Let Shmendrick The Entertainer and 20 Pack waddle over with The First Wifebeaters' Club. Unsure fucked up thinking the walk it out trick would work too. You ain't Tango, nigga. She ain't gonna stop you. Hit the bricks backwards, Chamo. Wait... Where the fuck is Chamo? Is this big sloppy nigga his boyfriend or something? While Buddha and Tailor are out with NY, Cuzzin It is back in the crib doing the Heineken Party Keg switch! Having It in the house is like having NORE as a contestant. Everything surrounding that situation is like a scene out of "State Property 2." I could have sworn this nigga was gonna say he got the flowers from El Plaga. Then he gonna perform forcible Ren & Stimpy-tongue entry on the bitch you don't already put a down payment on? Tailor Made should have jumped in his ass, spray-painted "Tailor Was Here", stepped out and close the ass behind him. "Boom boom boom. You want a lemon?" my ass! Sidenote: This season of "Curb Your Enthusiasm" is excellent! Shit. Unless Laurence Fishburne was buying his coke in LeFrak City, there's no way Morpheus would so much as step over It's 4th & goal-at-the-1 ass. Tailor couldn't protect his flowers from CNN becaue he was out racing The Houston 500 starring New York as the jizz target. For all of the experience he claims to have, he got put against the wall like Loren Wallace in the GEICO commercial! We see the NASCAR highlights on SportsCenter between, you know, the real sports. We know how to do this too. When Tango-- I mean, Buddha, said "I love black women." Tailor Made was on the bleachers masturbating talking about "*sniff* I love black women too." I'm not surprised in the least that Miss New York speaks restraining order. It really came as no surprise to anyone that Detroit Red got the boot. Well... I guess, except you Yours. Homie came out soundin like Jason Weaver in "ATL." That's on you if you wanna sleep/blunt your chance away. If she thought Knockout was a violent pinto beans with eyes should he really have gotten out of the first event? Cheezy ain't goin nowhere. Snitches welcome! In a final show of class, ManBearPig slaps herself on the hocks as she makes her departure. Damn. It appears Midget Mac is gonna both the underdog and the moral compass of this program. I love it.

Bear with Daddy, he's sicky sick sick!

Hello, haters! I ain't forget about you all or my responsibilities. I have been battling the flu like whoa. You'll have your ILNY2 post tonight, though. Expect S&P & Gotti's Way doubled up tomorrow. I'll also catch us up on The Boondocks and never let go. Check back tonight! Love and Hate, Ronaldinho

2007 VH1 Hip-Hop Honors Recap

These niggas said "Fuck a BET Hip-Hop Awards!" The only thing VH1 gives away to The Negro Channel is quality of host. I'd much rather watch Katt Williams take shots at attendees than Brian Fellow either doing his best impersonation of a Hip Hop Infinity message board poster driving a cab or staring mindlessly at the telepromtper between backstage bumps. Oh, there was a lot of coke at this awards show. Kerry Washington presented the Missy Elliot award wearing a dress that looks like it drops down from the overhead when your plane is in freefall. They had my beautiful baby boo in damn life raft. The dress may not inflate, though chocolate deliciousness is flowing through it. With that said, I'd never seen that overbite before! That thing is marvelous. She looks like a fucking stork in an oil spill. The dome must be monstrous. I see you Tweet! Good to know you're still alive and apparently digging through Macy Gray's trash. Eve brought a whole sheet escape rope with her. That wasn't no damn weave! My only qualm with the Missy tribute was that they should have brought back the little white girl she had in her videos a few years back. Eh, nevermind. That little girl probably got 2 mulatto kids by now. For all the jokes I make about Keyshia Cole, let it be known that I love her ghetto ass. Pokemon weave and all. I made her a paper valentine back in 4th grade. Yeah. It's like that. What can I say about Nelly Furtado in that black dress that hasn't been said about Shrek? I wanna beat the brakes off that donkey. Seriously... Where did that shit come from? I thought by far the best part of the program was the New Jack Swing tribute. Then again, I'm a Harlemite in his mid-20s. I'm biased as hell. In case you aren't entirely clear on what you witnessed with during the Keith Sweat "I Want Her" performance, I'm here to help. I'd call that Roberto Clemente crash-and-burn disaster "T-Pain Exposed." Fear not, black people of America! Though your ears may never recover from the brutal cockdown they endured Monday night, there is a silver lining to the shitstorm. We need to gather all of our children, no matter how lame, crippled, lazy, stupid or otherwise defective, and get them Vocoders! Those little bastards are like Bill Cliton's dick. Go slap that shit in your mouth and be somebody! They should have let that Licorice Fruit Roll-Up Ne-Yo do the whole thing. That would have been best for everyone... I guess except Keith Sweat who's finally found someone who can't sing his own shit better than he can. I really enjoyed the Teddy Riley set, though. Kanye ain't never lie. Chauncey really black as the street was. I was a little disappointed with "Rumpshaker" time. Not only was Pharrell there and should have been available to help, but the hoes... Damn those hoes. That was the laziest set of hookers on coffee break I ever saw. The song is called "Rumpshaker!" Shake somethin! Do the wop! Something! It was like 12 bitches just leanin on furniture and instruments. Shouldn't one of them been holding a saxophone or some shit? Maybe they were all just staring at LL Cool J backstage. That nigga look like he slept over at Jim Jones' place the night before and had to borrow some clothes. LL had the Elmer's Glue and glitter for the shirt in his overnight bag already. When Kool Moe Dee came down the stairs I almost freaked because I thought it was Biggie. That would have been some shit, VH1. Since you're in the business of exhuming rapper carcass already, why not bring B.I. to the next shit? Give him a Monday night series too. Put it on right after Flavor of Love 4. It was really great to see Busy Bee rock live. No jokes for him aside from the fact that he started out lookin like he was running for the bus. Other than that, he really did his thing. KRS wasn't even invited, he just jumped on the big gay nigga's shoulders in the front row, jacked the mic and started freestyling. I think we all would have been far more entertained with a KRS-One vs. Nelly edition of Celebrity Deathmatch. See, people. Here's the difference between a franchise Viacom actually gives a rat's dick about (VH1) and their Negro League affiliate (BET). On VH1 you get Chris Rock coming out to pay tribute to Whodini. On BET you get Yung Joc giving a ringtone lifetime achievement award to Young Jeezy. You on HEYEELL DAYTE!!! I watched Whodini's little testimonial and thought "You a bold motherfucker wearing that Bullets jersey with no undershirt, and what's up with your man? Is he supposed to be a Muslim Genie or some shit?" I also spit up some beer upon listening to them cautiously try to explain that their albums were put out by Afrika