Here’s hoping everyone’s had a kick ass holiday season, so far. And, I hope you’ll stick around for this special edition of the Goodness as we look back at 2005 through the keystrokes of myself, Nick Salemi, Joe Reid and, of course, Kimberly Jones.
OK, OK”¦if you don’t wanna stick around for the clip show, at least read the intro, which originally ran in December ’04. Trust me. And, come back this Friday for our Best/Worst in Hip Hop feature, which will also be my last chance to cryptically plug my big ass announcements for the January 6 Bootleg!
Last Thursday night was not one of The Bootleg’s better evenings. And, this time, I don’t mean “Bootleg” as a code word from “Cameron Family”.
Writer’s Block had bludgeoned my brain into bacon fat”¦and not the warm, drippy kind, but the cold, congealed kind. As Thursday turned to Friday, I was staring at 75% of a column and an increasingly agitated wife who wanted me to come downstairs and view all of the stockings she had hung with great care.
Mrs. Bootleg bought our stockings over the internet from the good people at Pottery Barn. In what should have been a sign of things to come, the first stocking was to say “Jalen’s 1st Christmas”. Instead, it took three attempts to get them to add the “apostrophes”.
The wife ordered ours next and asked that they read “Mommy” and “Daddy”. And, yes, I’ve already asked Mall Santa to bring me back my balls for Christmas.
At a little after midnight, I took the thirteen-step trudge downstairs to bask in the wool-blend brightness of our unstuffed stockings. Mrs. Bootleg, beaming with pride, took several steps back to admire the Kris Kringlesque craftsmanship. For a moment, I was embiggened with pride, as this would be our first holiday together as parents and”¦
Does that stocking say “MAMMY”?
I took a closer look, since cursive can be confusing (Billy Madison still can’t spell “Rizzuto”, y’know) and, sure enough, my initial concern had been confirmed. With one wrong letter, The Pottery Barn turned b(l)ack the clock to Hattie McDaniel, Buckwheat and bottles of thick, rich maple syrup.
And, then the laughter started.
I’m not sure if this is one of those nebulous “Black things”, but this was quite possibly the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. I laughed when the wife was typing up an email at 1:00 AM to explain the mistake. I laughed when Pottery Barn acknowledged it was their error, but told us that “A’s and O’s kind of look alike”.
I laughed when my wife was told that they were completely sold out of all makes, models and styles of stockings for the year. I laughed, minutes later, when we agreed to leave it up.
Now, I don’t know many mammies with a Master’s Degree (although, I’m told Mrs. Cicely Buttersworth is half way to a PhD). But for this, our first Christmas as a family, we’ll feast our eyes on this racially insensitive item of festiveness, secure in the knowledge”¦that we shall overcome.
This is the year in The Goodness”¦2005!
Hey, here’s one I haven’t dusted off in awhile…our old friend DUIana Ross is back in the news this week. She is reportedly at the confluence of a cosmetic controversy, as she has backed out of an agreement to pitch a line of MAC cosmetics in her name. And, the reason?
She didn’t like the names of the colors picked out for her collection. Although, in her defense names like “Broken Nose Capillaries Copper”, “Slurred Speech Peach” and “Embalm ‘Em Autumn” really don’t sound all that marketable.
Now, don’t tell Nas, but it’s no secret that Diana only dates white men. So, where’s all the rhubarb when Bonequeesha beds down with B-Rad? Well, I’m not sure if Billy Bob in Monster’s Ball was a fluke or phenomenon, but here are some tips for any White readers who want to date Black women.
Run.
That’s pretty much it.
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Y’all remember Barak (Obama)? Democratic National Convention…real stirring speech…talk of a Presidential run down the line. Let’s hope that Barak saw that Eddie Murphy movie The Distinguished Gentleman. That’s the one where Murphy’s “Jeff Johnson” snuck his way into office because he shared his name with a white politician who died and fooled the voters by running a campaign without once showing his face.
“Shared his name with a white politician…?” So, what’s Plan B, Obama?
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Earlier this week, I went to one of those obnoxious organic grocery stores. Here in California, we have no problem paying three times the big-chain supermarket price for meat that’s hand-massaged and sans Mad Cow or pesticide-free produce that’s picked by the hands of legal aliens.
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They say our bodies have a natural defense against choking. The esophagus begins to work on its own to push the food up or down. Oftentimes, it’s that uncontrollable internal conflict that results in”¦well, choking to death. But, like I said, I wasn’t chok”¦
Holy sh*t”¦you really can’t speak when you’re choking!
By now, I was good n’ panicked and frantically flopped my hand around my drink. Quick choking tip for the kids out there”¦not a good idea to drink anything when you’re choking. Since its path to my belly was blocked, the fructose-based beverage came right back up. Fortunately, it brought most of the half-chewed chicken with it, as I”¦well, as I had an “oral accident” right there in the booth. And, with only about two dozen witnesses.
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It’s all for the best, I guess”¦since it’s no secret that America isn’t likely to ever get behind an animated movie with an African-American in the lead. C’mon”¦the Asians have that Mulan girl. Hispanics have Dora the Explorer. 5-foot, 3-inch Irish-Italians have Nick Salemi.
But, seriously, are there any Black characters that can ever come close to this type of pop-culture canonization? Well, besides Jesus.
Sorry, Mitch Michaels.
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Getting out of my car, I turned to notice that the Saturn was looking a little more…crooked. The driver’s side was noticeably higher than the passenger’s side. Since Eddie Guerrero and his traveling six-pack of percodan were nowhere to be found, I could pretty much eliminate “low-rider hydraulics” from the equation.
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Actually, my apprehension was all for naught. As the week progressed, more and more people came to stay with us. By the time Wednesday rolled around, there were about a dozen friends and relatives all under one roof. Subsequently, the sleeping situation was shuffled and three guesses who was stuck with the short straw.
2,500 square feet of two-story serenity…and my Black ass gets stuck snoring in the fetal position on the floor of the walk-in closet. The closeet! It was like the slave quarters without the deep-fried chicken necks and Negro spirituals.
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Internet fan favorite and infamous fourth chipmunk, 50 Cent, is slated to appear on this Sunday’s episode of The Simpsons. According to the story, Bart sneaks his way into a rap concert, fakes his own kidnapping and the writers fill the remaining 18 minutes with slightly new twists on old jokes they wrote 10 years ago.
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Adventures in Cell Phone Conversations
Nick: Hey, how come Jose Canseco looks nothing like El Duque (since they’re both from Cuba)?
Aaron: It’s because, growing up, Canseco was the “house Cuban”, while El Duque was the “field Cuban”.
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These people are pouring tens of thousands of dollars into an asset that, in a few years, could easily be burned out and broken down by the side of the road with a “for sale” sign swinging from the back. Not surprisingly, the same could be said about Lil’ Kim.
What?
Oh, it’s been two years, who amongst you didn’t see that one coming? Just be thankful I left the joke about her “spacious interior” on the shelf. Whoops.
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Mrs. Bootleg forwarded (the following email) to me from one of her girlfriends:
“Also, do you think Aaron would be willing to let the kids chase him, while he’s wearing a shirt with candies sewn on it??? I’m trying to find some games for the kids to play….!”
And, hey, nothing says “Happy Birthday” better than a few rousing hands of “white kids chase Black man”. I’m not certain, but wasn’t that an old slave game? I’m certain I saw it in an old 1936 Shirley Temple cinematic masterpiece”¦co-starring Gregory Hines and Mr. Bojangles.
After my obvious response, the wife tried to come after my conscience:
“Oh, be a team player. She’s throwing your son a birthday party! Do you know how much it’s costing to have this party? Just let them chase you around for a little bit and then fake an injury.”
And is the child who captures the last dash of my dignity declared the winner? Does the wife not realize that she’s asking a person to play a piñata? Why not hand the kids a couple of Kendo sticks to complete the caricature?
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Rappers 50 Cent and The Game are embroiled in one of the most bizarre beefs in Hip Hop history. Seriously, folks, we’re talking Eazy-E vs. T-Cell territory.
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How much longer do we have to wait before Nas is sweeping street corners and spitting unsolicited soliloquies for a can of Miller High Life like “The Mayor” in Do the Right Thing?
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Upon my arrival, I was shocked to find no less than three windows open and operating. At the Post Office?! During the lunch hour?! It was like Bizarro World with unsold bulk rolls of Black History Month stamps!
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50 Cent & The Game came together, live and contrived, from Harlem, New York on Wednesday to publicly announce the end to their feud which, oddly enough, had fewer deaths than the Feud that Ray Combs used to host.
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All I know, is that (Foxy Brown) used her cell phone to assault the employee. Holy crap! Let’s call her Fox E. Dangerously! She surrendered to authorities this week, as we’re left to wonder”¦how the hell does one get hurt from a cell phone fight?
These days, even the cheap cells are about the size and weight of a Hostess snack cake. We’re talking a “two-way Twinkie” here, people. And, really”¦Twinkies aren’t evil. They just wear cowboy hats, boots, a kerchief and”¦no pants. I’m told they hang out with Chocolate Seamen and other fruits.
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Adventures in Cell Phone Conversations
Nick: I know about being a minority. I’m the only white guy in my (class project) group.
Aaron: I guess that’s a lot like when Owen Hart joined The Nation back in 1998.
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The New York Daily News is reporting that Lil’ Jon nearly caused a riot during a performance down in Panama City Beach last week. Officials believe that the trouble began when Jon asked all the women in the audience to flash their breasts.
Hey, you might call it drunken misogyny, but to me it’s just public mammography, people.
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Seriously, “Lil’ Cease” is the kind of name that’ll have you shanked before Augustus Hill’s obligatory Oz inmate introduction is over:
Prisoner Number 051-997, Lil’ Cease”¦convicted”¦What? Already? And, by Sister Peter Marie? That’s cold, n*gga, that’s cold. Can I have his lines this week?
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Other A-list rappers in attendance included Xzibit, The Game, Nate Dogg, Warren G., Young MC, The D.O.C. and”¦wait a minute.
“A-list rappers”?
Anyone know which one of ’em Warren G came down with? And, Young MC”¦? Well, it’s a good thing he was free! I suppose I could make fun of The D.O.C., as well”¦but, I’m guessing he had nothing to say.
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It was like we had Jessica Alba’s Invisible Woman force field from The Fantastic Four. Except, ours kept the crap away, instead of casting it alongside us.
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At the time, 9 to 5 was considered the turning point for redefining the “fragile female” fallacy. It was estrogen and entertainment intertwined like never before. And, then we forgot all about it”¦like the Equal Rights Amendment or the 1999 Women’s World Cup soccer team.
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I hadn’t been standing there for more than a second, when the sweetest elderly lady you’d ever want to meet decided to make with the yak-yak. With me. Now, this was a big woman. She could’ve easily been confused with Mabel King, the good mother from What’s Happening! or King Mabel, the bad mutha from WWE!
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Lil’ Kim websites all over the net are arranging letter writing campaigns to (the presiding) Judge Gerard Lynch (uh oh!)
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This year, Mother’s Day weekend began without the wife. In fact, it began without any women. Now, I know that doesn’t exactly differentiate me from the rest of the Inside Pulse staff, so let me explain.
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For example…have you ever tried to put shoes on the feet of an infant? Well, apparently, they’re now putting laces where, up until now, there’s only been Velcro. On the grand scale of life’s greatest challenges, this ranks somewhere between catching the greased up deaf guy at the employee picnic and catching Marlee Matlin…employed.
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Kid Cameron woke up from an unsatisfying slumber in a sour-ass mood. Now, my parenting skills are admittedly limited, but if there’s one thing that always makes my son’s smile…it’s an old-fashioned ride on my shoulders.
Now, I’m six feet tall and with Jalen sitting up there, it probably adds another foot and a half to my height. So, what is that…about 7 ½ feet or 90 inches? Oh, and guess what I learned last Saturday. It seems that the length from the garage floor to the top of the open garage door is about 7 ¼ feet or 87 inches.
And, truth be told…Jalen learned it before me.
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And, in what has to be the quote of the year, here’s what the mother told the local media:
“She thought she was going backstage to meet the band.”
Unbelieveable…although as a means of sexually deceiving the naïve, that line probably ranks third behind “I think we’re out of gas” and “C’mon, it’s chock full of protein.”
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Now, you’ll find that Black women of all backgrounds can get braids…rich and poor, young and old, whatever. When the white girl is getting braids (and by “her Black friend”, no less) you can bet this b*tch will stab you for a wet sack of Wendy’s. I’m talking about those big-boned and blaccented broads that we get from white America in exchange for you guys staking claim to the best years of Mariah Carey’s career.
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(Jin the MC) announced his retirement earlier this week and stated that he plans to explore movie and television opportunities. A quick search of the various Vegas betting books shows that his Hollywood odds for superstardom currently rank behind fellow members of the Asian persuasion, such as Margaret Cho and Brandon Lee.
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In a press release, Diddy compared his cavalcade of comedians to Richard Pryor. Diddy = understated, kids. If these guys are Richard Pryor, let’s hope someone forgets the fire extinguisher.
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Adventures in Instant Messaging
That_Bootleg_Guy: When’s that Star Wars review coming?
Joe Movies: Umm . . . when I see it?
That_Bootleg_Guy: If you hurry, you can get yours up before IP gets their 10th one done.
That_Bootleg_Guy: If you hurry”¦
Joe Movies: Okay, well . . . oops, too late
Joe Movies: People are now reviewing their second screenings separately.
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Panhandler: “Come on, brutha. Help out your people!”
Me: “Sorry. I got nuthin’…”
Panhandler: (yelling) “Uppity azz n*gga! I bet you married a white woman, too!”
Amazing. I mean, how freakin’ ignorant. No, not the used-up usage of a Civil War word like “uppity””¦I’m talkin’ about the “white woman” comment. I told him I had no money. Isn’t it obvious that I married a Black woman? Ask Booker T. in three years.
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Joe Movies: Okay, well in that case, I’m picking the estimable J.D. Dunn; a talented wrestling writer! No lie! He also kicked ass reviewing horror flicks for the movies zone. I’ve got me a Bo Jackson-style double threat!
That_Bootleg_Guy: Hey, a wrestling/horror movie writer…smell those hits!
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That_Bootleg_Guy: I’ll take Mike Eagle, who’s like 411’s Phil Watts without all the Samuel L. Jackson VIRTUAL YELLING at me.
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That_Bootleg_Guy: Hmm”¦so you think I’ll still be employed by Inside Pulse come Saturday?
That_Bootleg_Guy: Maybe 411 will take me back.
Joe Movies: Defectors can only return through the supplicant doggy door.
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All those interested need to submit a 500-word essay and have at least a C- average. (Scholarship) winners will be announced on”¦hold up”¦a C- average? And, 50’s helping these people into college?
These are the world’s Hilary Swank plays Joe Kane, a troubled QB with”¦what? You’re tellin’ me that was Craig Sheffer?
I don’t know”¦take another look and tell me I’m wrong.
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Ooooh”¦don’t look now, America, but Canada is mad at us”¦again. The new (Alanis Morrissette) CD will be available inside the caffeinated and corporate confines of North American Starbucks for the next six weeks, before it goes on sale worldwide. So, why is Saskatoon’s Moose Jaw all Ottawack?
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And, sure enough, they had Extra Value Meals for the sausage, egg n’ cheese and bacon, egg n’ cheese McGriddles. But, what of those of us who prefer our pigs plain like Lil’ Kim without makeup?
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This week’s column is brought to you by the new soft drink Sprite Remix ARUBA Jam. You won’t believe how quickly it disappears. And, in my house, you can blame the Black man!
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This week, the fat chickens came home to roost as a tearful Kim threw herself on the mercy of the court. Twenty years ago, King Kong Bundy called that move “the avalanche”. Oh, come on…if I really wanted to take cheap shots, I’d find a way to blend in a Bundy vs. Little Beaver reference, but you don’t have to be her gynecologist to know why I’m not going there.
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Trina, if you don’t know, is a former stripper. So, I’m betting that the best advice she ever served was, “My body glitter might mess up your black shirt.” (By the by, she ain’t kidding.)
Hell, could she even spell “advice”, despite the fact that she brings her own “V” “D”?
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Now, I’ve had worse hangovers, but the mere fact that those spread-throughout-the-evening adult beverages even induced a hangover is a sign. But, unless this sign was at the bottom of my boy’s toilet sometime on Sunday morning, then I must’ve missed it entirely.
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The city’s mayor, Beverly O’Neill, declared August 1-6 to be (and I am not making this up) “Warren G. Week” throughout the LBC.
Warren G?! Hell, I’m from Long Beach, I’m Black and I’m just as broke as G must be”¦where’s my week? Or is this all part of some “local celebrities on government assistance” celebration?
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And, won’t we be shocked to find that the cover art (for The Naked Truth) will play off the pun and feature Kim in a provocative pose barely dressed, dripping wet, eating clams”¦whoops, that’s actually the shower scene from Kim’s upcoming 366 day stay in prison.
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I had never been to Sacramento in the summer”¦and, now I know why. For God’s sake, it was 112 degrees. (And, for the benefit of those of you reading this outside America: For God’s sake, it was 45 degrees Celsius). And, much to my surprise, there were actually people walking around”¦outside.
Birds were just randomly catching fire and falling from the sky, yet there were still seemingly clear-thinking people who were willingly outside.
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I’ve seen the climactic scenes of Pulp Fiction enough times to know that Ving Rhames’ career is still walking with a slight limp and occasional rectal bleeding.
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The D-O-double G was accused, along with members of his entourage, of incapacitating Bell by lacing her glass of champagne with a derivative of the date-rape drug, GHB.
The drink, known in some circles as a “Shot of Sebastian Janikowski“”¦
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It’s the absolute worst white guy fashion clash since John Cena debuted his denim shorts/Reebok Pumps ensemble. Oh, and speaking of 1991, did you catch Cena’s new video for his Right Now single yet? I liked it more 14 years ago, when it was called Summertime.
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Oh, and in related news: cars can’t be budged when they’re not in neutral. Bill Bixby made it look so easy in the opening credits of The Incredible Hulk.
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Y’know, Vivica, I’m beginning to think you’ve made the move from “conquest” to “Kleenex”. Y’see, with the former, you’re at least able to maintain some dignity in that it was a badge of honor to actually bed you.
As for the latter”¦well, have you ever heard of much re-use for anything after one’s wad is blown and the tissue is torn?
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Curse you Sex in the City for keeping alive the myth that middle-aged divas are desirable. While not nearly as egregious as The Golden Girls’ “septuagenarians-in-the-sack” concept or Bob Dole and Mike Ditka discussing erectile dysfunction, it’s still high time we draw a line in the sand with these soccer moms in stretch pants trying to pass for pretty.
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After flying under the radar for the first two weeks, Jennifer Beals is voted out for “trying to pass.” At tribal council, a shifty-eyed Jasmine Guy and Rae Dawn Chong realize they’re gonna need a new game plan.
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For the last seven days, both tribes have been forced to subsist off the scraps and seaweed stuck between Paula Jai Parker’s 63 teeth.
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We all know it’s been well-established that the only two ways to bring back one’s Blackness are to kill a white couple in a jealous rage or resurrect yourself from the ashes of the One Man Gang.
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But, before I could discuss my dissatisfaction with the dining time, Mrs. Bootleg opened her mouth, one more time:
“And, just so you know, it’s my birthday. (Pause) Oh, thank you! (Pause) No, we’ve never been there before, but we’re pretty excited about it. (Pause) Now, do I get a free dessert because it’s my birthday?”
Me: (Pause)
Jesus Christ, Sheniqua (not her real name), this ain’t Chuck E. Cheese! Who, over the age of eight, would ask that of any place, much less one where the side salads are $17? And, you know what they were thinking the second she got off the phone:
“We got two n*ggaz coming in on Saturday. You know where to sit ’em.”
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Earlier this week, Game announced that he’s “considering” the adoption of one of the unfortunate orphans from the Gulf Coast Region ravaged by Hurricane Katrina. Well, that’s just precious. How blessed we are that there are responsible bruthas out there, who are willing to relocate needy kiddies from the looting, shooting and collapsed infrastructure of New Orleans”¦and move ’em to Compton.
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Just last Tuesday, McCartney was part of a protest outside the New York offices of Jennifer’s clothing company, Sweetface. During an ensuing scrum with on-site security, McCartney”¦oh, come on, this can’t be true”¦McCartney lost her prosthetic leg?
Whoa, whoa, whoa”¦I thought September 19 was “Talk Like a Pirate Day”?
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To all of you who insist that I’ve been kicking Lil’ Kim while she’s down (must”¦resist”¦cow tipping quip), let’s offer up some good news straight from the horse’s mouth.
What? It’s not my fault that phrase is apropos in more than one way”¦
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Pac’s sister, Set (not sure what that’s short for, but I’m betting it ends with “-eesha”) has announced a fall 2006 release for a line of women’s clothes inspired by Shakur’s ridiculous posthumous alias, “Makaveli”. The proposed women’s wear will be called”¦oh, come on, is she serious?
She’s calling it “Madameveli”?
Well, sure”¦I guess “Tupac ForHur” would’ve sounded silly.
“The line will include miniskirts with garters, bustier/gaucho cat suits, corset-style tops, hip hugging suit pants with suspenders, denim jackets and other pieces.”
Holy sh*t, kids. Garters”¦cat suits”¦? I didn’t know the “unshakeable pedestal of regality” was a stripper pole and a street corner”¦.in a very bad neighborhood.
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VH1 is bringing back Celebrity Fit Club for another jiggly-thigh run, this winter. And, look at the celebs they’ve lined up: Bizarre, whose fame comes mostly from Eminem’s D-12 group and Young MC, whose fame comes mostly from the year 1912.
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The end of the Red Sox Baseball Season
That_Bootleg_Guy: I think Coogan died a little today
Joe Movies: awesome
Joe Movies: Now I can die in peace.
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The (Being Bobby Brown) show was a surprising hit this past summer, as it gave Black folk the rare opportunity to actually relate to a reality show, while white folk could point and laugh at us without fear of getting shot”¦for now.
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I work for the one of the largest defense contractors in the world. I’ve been there for six years, scored three promotions during that time and I still need about three retirements and a workplace assassin in front of me if I’m ever gonna have anyone working under me.
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Trick has announced that he’ll be sponsoring a fundraiser to support displaced hurricane victims, as well as raise awareness for his non-profit organization, Trick Luv Da Kids, Inc.
I am NOT making this up. But, wait”¦it gets better. On Saturday, October 29, Trick will host the “Trick Luv Da Kids Spooktacular Halloween Fundraiser”.
“Spooktacular”?
Jesus Christ, Trick, what was the alternate unintentionally offensive name for the event, “Trick’s Halloween Jigga-BOOOOOOO”?!
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Since when did Hip Hop and homophobia start walking hand-in-hand? Has the industry already forgotten the two most obvious examples of rap music juxtaposed with gay programming?
Allow me to offer up Exhibit A & Exhibit B.
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“I pressed the volume (of the TV) to maybe 60″¦nothing. I ran outside to my truck and honked the horn”¦nothing. I ran back inside and dialed a number on the phone”¦nothing. Then, I started breaking down in tears and screaming and I couldn’t even hear myself scream. That’s when I knew there was a problem.”
OK”¦I know I have to tread lightly here (goddam homophones), but am I the only one who noticed that Foxy didn’t discover the problem until she started screaming? The failed self-tests on her TV, truck and telephone yielded nothing out of the ordinary, but the scream test? Now, there’s a problem.
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For anyone out there who’s never done anything this stupid, the abrupt end to my treadmill spin launched me forward and nearly up and over the front of the machine.
A Black Test Dummy, if you will.
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What kind of reverse world do we live in when it’s the Black woman who refuses to participate in her parental duties? That’s our gimmick, trick, and we ain’t about to surrender it to the sistas. Y’all women have no idea how serious this sh*t is to us.
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In fact, as stated in a recent interview, Game envisions suites, offices, rooms for short-term living and”¦in his words”¦”mentoring programs for pregnant mothers and children”.
Umm”¦aren’t they one and the same in Compton?
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Of course, I got lost on my way to the hotel in Nashua, NH, as apparently the controversial and divisive “street signs” initiative failed to find 50% of the voter’s support. Just a hint, New Hampshire”¦they help.
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Now, has anyone even heard of The Black Family Channel? For the sake of authenticity, did other, more affluent channels move down the dial when The Black Family Channel showed up? And, why can’t viewers turn the volume down on anything that they air?
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So, just to recap”¦R. Kelly is pissed because a foreign substance was sprayed in his face.
Hmmm”¦so that’s what it feels like to be the last person on earth to make the same joke about a particular pop culture figure long after the masses have moved on. The awkward silence”¦a collective roll of the eyes from the readers”¦
Just think of me as one more Jay Mohr.
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Thankfully, Marsellus Wallace didn’t send me out on the town with his wife, Mia. If she OD’d on my watch, she’d have to get her own damn injection of adrenalin and I’d finish her five-dollar shake, while I waited.
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Air Jordan was out-acted by everyone from Theresa Randle to Tweety’s Grandma in Space Jam.
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And, to the surprise of absolutely no one, 50 and his crew are only lending their names and likenesses to this effort”¦the real writing will be handled by actual authors. So, let’s all hope that talent like Terry McMillan or Mick Foley are free to turn phrases like “Deez n*ggaz be trippin” and “I’mma f*ck me some b*tches.”
Come on”¦read it out loud in the voice of Mankind and tell me that’s not comedy.
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I just figured those funds would be sent back to Africa to support whatever civil war du jour was being waged between Dikembe, Kamala and Manute Bol.
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Speaking of Predator, someone needs to ask Movie Joe Reid if he can explain the two-decade staying power of, essentially, a B-movie bad guy.
His rogue’s gallery roll call includes: Jesse Ventura, Danny Glover, post-Rocky and pre-Action Jackson Apollo Creed and, last but not least, Apache Chief. And, he lost to this collection of talent twice.
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Notorious cracka connoisseur, Diana Ross has confirmed that she and actor Jon Voight have been an item for several months. Representatives for both atrophied entertainers claim that the two are taking it slowly, which shouldn’t surprise anyone since the top speed of their respective Rascals is only 8 miles per hour.
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“I’m constantly looking for new things. I’m never still. My theory is that life on a boat could be great!”
OK”¦that’s not a “theory” so much as it’s a child’s observation. It’s kind of like “my theory is that my dad can beat up your dad”¦” or “my theory is that Flash can run faster than Superman”.
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On the 10-point Michael Irvin Scale of Insufferable Legal Subterfuge, I think Julia does reasonably well for a first-time offender, so we’ll hand out a generous 6.0 score. It’s not exactly O.J. Simpson’s unprecedented “11”, but even Irvin had to start somewhere.
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Yeah”¦you know there’s a name for a “minor eating disorder”, Ashlee. It’s reserved for those people that dip their toast into the yolk of their over-easy eggs. I’ve never got that. And, speaking of things I don’t get:
“(My disorder) was about six months of (me) not eating too much at all. I was 11 and 5′ 2″ and weighed 70 pounds.”
Yikes! There’s nothing “minor” there, scarecrow. Let’s face it, those measurements along with one of those swollen, bulbous bellies would’ve made you an alabaster Ethiopian. And, if we embiggened your head slightly, you could’ve co-starred as an alien in Signs.
“My parents stepped in and made me eat. That really helped a lot.”
Well, how ’bout that? Who knew that that the physical and psychological challenges endured before, during and after the onset of an eating disorder can be overcome”¦by eating! Pencils down all you leading doctors, shrinks and scientists of the world. The correct answer is eating.
Eating.
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Sorry, but if Donovan McNabb’s mom can’t even make me consume one can of Campbell’s Cream of Salt soups, then I don’t see how Snoop’s mom can succeed.
I’m off all week! Get at me when Mrs. Bootleg’s not nagging me or Lil’ Boy Bootleg is asleep on Yahoo or AOL IM: ajcameron13.
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