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 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?

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.

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?"

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.

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.