Friday, March 16, 2012

You Sir are F$%&#@! UP

Since the inception of this thing we call time...

People have been fucking up.

And these fuck ups have only grown in scope as the world has been introduced to new technologies like books, telephones, and most namely THE INTERNETS (that 's' is not there by accident).

But no matter how much, you or I (but especially you) have fucked up, no one can quite do it like celebrities. Let me explain. You see, it so happens that some of us are privileged to a tiny little thing called fame. And with fame comes great responsibility.

No. With fame comes the ability to fuck up greater than those without it. And although this is common knowledge, some people afflicted with fame have still found ways to fuck up. With your permission, I'd like to discuss three of the greatest celebrity fuck ups in our recent world history.

Disclaimer: Remember, the views expressed in this post are not necessarily those of the other contributors all though I am sure they would agree.

The first may surprise you. We call this man by many names. We call him the Pied Piper of RnB. We call him Mr. Bump and Grind but to those of us that know him, we call him Robert Kelly. Now Robert Kelly was a man from Chicago, Illinois making some of the best music of his generation. And even when he and then 16 year old Aaliyah were going together, we let it slide. But then, he fucked up.

Why Kells, why did you pee on that little girl? Were there no groupies in the vicinity? Was the toilet too far away? And why Mr. Kelly did you tape it? Admittedly, some of us have ventured in to making our own sex tapes but Mr. Kelly, why did you have to piss on her? You could have edited that part out. You could have made it into special effects so that instead of peeing on her, it would appear that you were pouring champagne from your penis. But you didn't. And all the gospel songs in the world won't save you.

And this is not the biggest fuck up of this incident, no. 

Denying it was. We know it's you Mr. Kelly. Look, THIS IS YOU! Mr. Biggs ain't do this to you. You did it to yourself. You FUCKED up dog.

Really nigga, who else could this be
This next one may not surprise you as much. His name is Isaiah Washington IV. You probably know him better as the black doctor on Grey's Anatomy, ABC's hit doctor show. Since the shows inception, it has been must watch television for viewers all over the country. What a testament to Mr. Washington as an actor that he was a leading male on this show. That was until HE FUCKED UP, big time.

Now we live in a somewhat (take "somewhat" with the LARGEST grain of salt you can find) progressive society. As such, some comments, right or wrong, will be looked at as offensive. And Mr. Washington being the astute negro that he is knows this, right? 

Wrong. And that's why at the height of his popularity on Grey's Anatomy, he said this in response to calling a co-worker a faggot. "I love gay. I wanted to be gay. Please let me be gay." As you can imagine, this didn't go over so well with the white men with money and they promptly fired his black ass.

Mr. Washington, why did you feel the need to call your fellow actor a faggot? It doesn't make any sense. You were the nigga that made it from straight-to-VHS movies with DMX all the way up to the McDreamy big time. Nigga, I can't believe you did that. Yes you, you Mr. Washington. Fucked. Up. And then they did this to you.

All the Gay press in the world won't save you
(B-dump, pishh)
The last person on this list is a white guy. If you're black like me and never watched white television growing up, you may have thought this person was Seinfeld (I did) until year later I learned that his name is Michael Richards. But for purposes of this blog let us call him Cosmo Kramer.

Now Mr. Kramer had found unbound success on the Seinfeld show as the offbeat, eccentric best friend. And as far as I've heard, he was funny, fantastic even. What I didn't know was that he also did stand up...

On that one fateful evening at the Laugh Factory while he was preforming stand-up, some African Americans in the crowd were heckling him. Why? Probably because he wasn't very funny. But no one could have predicted what happened next. Or maybe we could have. 
We all know white people say nigga in their spare time, perhaps when talking to fellow racist, perhaps when quoting their favorite rap song in the car but not like this...not like this. Mr. Richards, why did you have to say nigga so many times? Once would have sufficed for the nigga to get the point. Was there no other word that you could have used? Did you vote for Obama? Did you ask for there to be no niggas on Seinfeld? Were you upset about your less than one season failed solo sitcom venture? I don't know. But one thing is for sure, you are still saying nigga wherever it is you're at. Oh and that bullshit apology, fuck you. You wanna apologize to us niggas, send reparations. Nigga.

As Paul Mooney once said (and I paraphrase greatly) you shouldn't be surprised by racism. So if Regis Philbin stabbed you with a pencil in the eye yelling NIGGA DIE!, you should have seen it coming.

Of course there are more celebrity fuck ups that we can name, some even greater. But these two black men fucked up and didn't go to jail. And the white guy is still filthy fucking rich. So in the end, they won. I won and of course you the reader, are a winner as well.

On a personal note, FUCK Nicki Minaj and her male barbies. Something tells me she will be the next one on this list. 

You heard it here first.

Friday, March 9, 2012

Keeping it Real Vol. 1 - The 1st and 15th


And you know what that means right...

PAY DAY IN 6 DAYS (for all my bi-monthly people)

And if you're somewhat like me, the first thing you think about when you get that check is all the new clothes and toys you can buy. All the liquor you are going to purchase while you are out this weekend and maybe, (just maybe) that new hairstyle or haircut you so badly (see: desperately) need.

But, seeing as your like me, you've probably already spent that check.

What do you mean Sir Ric the Ruler?

Well, unfortunately, I am not balling at all. Not even a little bit. It's like I keep bouncin' on that dead spot on the court. Or my ball is going flat with that slow leak. Or its got that titty on it that makes it bounce weird. On top of all that, I have a bad knee, two bad knees when it rains. Sheee-it, the D-League won't even draft my non-ballin' ass. That is how much I am NOT balling.
Well, I'm ballin' a little harder than this. And way less ashy
So, when this check on the 15th gets deposited into my account at 3:17am (6:17am EST), it is already been spent. As a matter of fact, it's BEEN spent. It was spent way back when I got my check on the first. I'm not even living pay check to pay check anymore. At this point, it's more like living dream to dream really.

Each check I get, I like to budget. Rent, transportation, food, phone, drugs, liquor, clothes, miscellaneous purchases and all that. But after rent, food and phone and transportation... I start saying silly shit like this...

"Well, I'ma pay rent and my phone bill with this check and I'll have about $40 left from this check. I gotta save half of that because with the next check, I gotta renew my TAP Card (same as a MetroCard or a bus pass) and pay homie back for last week. Oh, and I definitely wanted to go out for (insert holiday or birthday of the month) and maybe go on a date."

Then, I've done it. I've spent an entire months pay in just 3 days. And so, consequently, I'm not even really looking forward to that next check because it's already been spent. On top of that, there is always a damn surprise expense waiting to pop up. You know, the shit that has you saying things like...

"Fuck, my phone broke."
"Fuck, my RayBan's broke."
"Fuck, gotta get that Plan B!"
"Fuck! It's too late for Plan B?"

And this is life my friends. Every month, I spend my entire months pay in 3 days. Did you notice how I didn't put "save money" or "pay loans off" up there? That's because I don't. And chances are, you don't either... and you know what? It's all good. We may not be rich, but we are nigger rich...

Well, I'm nigger rich... you're I guess whatever type of rich you desire to be. 

Now, let it be known that it takes a very skillful individual to maneuver this way. People like me know all the ways to get around late fees, find open bars, drink at happy hours, walk into clubs free, and (most importantly) eat free meals. 

It's a hustle to be broke and so, you have to respect it. When you can walk around comfortably with $0.94 in your account AND everything is paid for, be proud.

I didn't say be happy... I said be proud. 

Things will get better hopefully, and if they don't just know, at least for me they will.

Also, I'm almost certain that at this point I owe myself money from every check I've made this year. And there is absolutely no fucking way I'm paying it back. Nope. 

Fuck that guy. He'll just wait til' I get my next check.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Nightmares and Dreamscapes...

I was running as fast as I possibly could. Each stride burned more than the last, every breath seared pain into my failing lungs... If there was one thing I knew, I knew I wasn't going to make it.

The faster I ran the more narrow the gap between us became. I was beginning to realize that there was no way I could keep this pace up, and that even if I did, there was ABSOLUTELY no doubt I would soon be caught. And when that happened, well, I would definitely be too worn out from all the stupid running to do anything worth a damn.

So, that was it then... The decision was practically already made for me, I had to turn and fight.

I felt like I was ready, kinda. Once upon a time a very wise man said to me, "running from it will not save you." Why the fuck not? WHY?!! Jeez...

... Stupid wise man, stupid wisdom, stupid ellipses...


And so then, distracted by the wise man's ridiculous proverb and the world-deafening terror slowly closing in on me, I tripped. And not one of those... "Foot-gets-caught-while-walking-look-back-like-there-was-something-crazy-on-the-ground-and-find-out-your-clumsy-ass-tripped-over-nothing" kind of trips. I'm talking a "full-on-chin-and-right-arm-skin-peeling-home-plate-stealing-slide-across-bare-cold-flesh-ripping-concrete" kind of trip.

My exciting counter-attack strategy was crushed in a mere half-moment's clumsiness. I was doomed.

As I laid there, awaiting my tragic fate under the diminishing half-moon light, my executioner sauntered into view. The weapon in her left hand now seemed more like a jagged sword than the switchblade I thought I saw earlier. And, as I watched its reflection glimmer toward me through the darkness, with nothing left inside me but fear and bad judgement, I closed my eyes.

I felt her kneel down beside me, heard her hot misty breath tumbling toward me through the cold night air. I opened my eyes.

She was beautiful.

Her hair bounced around her head in wild coiling ebony ribbons. Her smooth bronze skin shimmered invincibly under the evening stars. And her eyes... her eyes were like two glistening pools of infinity, echoing her lusty intensity at me through the soul-consuming darkness. 

She leaned even closer. Then, looked deep into my eyes... and stabbed me. And stabbed me. And stabbed me.

I tried to move, but the stabbing... It’s just really hard to move when you’re getting stabbed, trust me on that. It's the worst.

My beautiful murderer looked down at me laying there, leaking vital life essence all over the disgusting city sidewalk, parted her lips coyly and said, “Stocking up and saving more on the things my family needs. That works for me!”


I hate falling asleep with the TV on.