Over the past few weeks, some brash and uncouth young lady has been coming thru this site with designs on getting me to come “out” of the closet.

Essentially, she thinks that I’m brokeback. Umm…no brokeback. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

The more you know.

*ding*

Well you know, she got me to thinking. Maybe I should come out of the closet. There really is nothing wrong with admitting certain things. People either love me for me, or not at all. As long as I’m okay with myself…that’s all that matters right?

Right.

Mama said there’d be days like, there’d be days like this, my mama said. It is time for me to just open up the closet door, and step out.

*sweating bullets*

Ladies and gentlemen…I’m…

…the sexxiest muhfucka this side of the River Jordan. And that shit ain’t in Chicago, jack.

Wow, that was easier than I thought it would be. And to think I was nervous telling people what they already knew.

However, old igmo got me thinking about the fact that there are some things that I probably should come out of the closet about, with this being Black History Month and all. Or as I so affectionately like to call it, the Annual Monthly Stoned Soul Picnic and BBQ, complete with the revolutionary Black Panther BBQ sauce courtesy of Fredrika Newton (Huey P. Newton’s widow), Burn Baby Burn Revolutionary Hot Sauce!

And no, I’m not making that up.

“Each bottle of Burn Baby Burn Revolutionary Hot Sauce will come with a tag noting milestones in the history of the Black Panther Party for Self- Defense, which was formed in 1966 by Huey Newton and his college classmate Bobby Seale.”

Oy vey.

I know that’s old news for some, but its Black History Month, we must rehash old facts.

Dr. Martin Luther Tha King, Jr. lived, had some dream, then died.

Fact.

That is all. You may now continue with European History.

So, without further ado (adieu…can somebody please tell me which is the proper form to use when saying “withour further…”)…I’m coming out of the closet.

*sighing in preparation for the long admit*

1. I don’t really like The Color Purple. I never have. I have seen it more times than I care to imagine, but even now, I get little enjoyment out of watching the actual movie. The last time I saw it, which was last summer sometime, I did find it to be much funnier than I remembered. However, I still wasn’t enthralled. And yes, I’m aware that I’m a man and I’ve heard more than enough “you wouldn’t understand because you’re a man and its a movie about women’s struggles” arguments. Frankly, I don’t give a damn. It’s ALSO a movie. Me no likey.

2. I can’t read. *OOPS* That’s from a taped conversation with Fantasia. How’d that get in here??

3. I like Mandy Moore. A lot. In fact, she is one of my favorites. This is not to say she can act. She has proven she can’t. I, however, pay that no mind. Just the other day I watched the movie Chasing Liberty because while I was flipping thru channels she showed up on my TV screen. I watched the whole movie because of her. She’s 5′10″ and 21 years old. She’s legal.

I only threw the 5′10″ thing in there because I can’t believe she’s that tall. I thought it was camera angles. Turns out, she’s just that damn tall.

4. I do not like chicken with bones in them. Yes, I’m a breast man. *rimshot* No really, I do not like wings, thighs, etc. Never have. I do not know why this is. However, if you ever want to make sure I won’t take any of your food, order some wings.

5. I was such a big fan of the show Friends, that I went to a Friends “Last Episode Party”. Yes, I was one of two black males there, with the other one only being there because I think he was trynna holler at the hostess. I also happened to know more about the show than the cascades of white people there causing people to whisper under their breath, “who’s that dashingly charming black bandana’d fellow of potential Latin American descent over there?”

Why, he’s Zorro. I, on the other hand, am Panama Jackson.

And, no brokeback to that entire paragraph up there.

6. Two of my favorite albums of all time are noted, footnoted, and notebooked as NWA’s EFIL4ZAGGIN and De La Soul’s de la soul is dead. However, what you don’t know is that if I have to chose between those two albums and Guns ‘N Roses’ Apetite For Destruction or Nirvana’s Nevermind, NWA and De La Soul might lose everytime. And they’re all going to lose if I can only take one album with me. That honor, goes to Splender Halfway Down The Sky. And no, you haven’t heard of them before.

7. Speaking of music, I just, as in three days ago, purchased Michael Jackson’s Thriller. For the first time. Some 24 years after its release. In my home, we had the album, but I’ve never owned my own copy. I purchased a Hillary Duff album, a 5th Dimension album (they had like ONE good song EVER), and two Lil Kim albums, before purchasing the 2nd best selling album in US history. I also purchased a reggae Best of The Best CD that I subsequently threw out of my car window for being so horrendously bitchtastic. I’m so ashamed at myself and I hope Michael Jackson can forgive me.

My mother too.

8. I hate hate hate black literature of the Zane variety. I think its filth flarn filth and utterly fuckin’ sucks. I’ve tried to read some of those books and just felt dirty and dumber. So, I chose to lump it all together. They all suck.

9. I never liked KRS-One. Ever. Still don’t. At all. Or Doug E. Fresh. And since I’m throwing rappers under the bus Terrell Owen’s style, I didn’t even like Tupac until AFTER he died. And I’m STILL more interested in the person than I am the uneven catalog of music that existed before his legacy was pimped Puffy style. And make no mistake, Puffy is pimping the Notorious B.I.G. like he’s in the running for Player of The Year. I hate to do this, but I’m almost convinced that Mrs. Wallace is too, though not as directly. Money might be short these days. I’m not saying I don’t understand, but that B.S. ass Duets album that has like, no duets, on it? Fuckin’ horrible and clearly a ploy to make money off a limited catalog and his name. And to quote the legendary B.I.G.:

“Number three: never trust no-bo-dy/
Your moms’ll set that ass up, properly gassed up/
Hoodie to mask up, shit, for that fast buck/
she be layin in the bushes to light that ass up”

Prophesy is a bitch.

10. I’m not a fan of Jesse Jackson, Al Sharpton, or BET. There, I said it.

Oh right…no shit. Guess this one doesn’t count.

So here’s a last bonus:

11. I really have no problem with Oprah Winfrey. I’m just afraid of her. She’s the most powerful woman in show business and white people love her. She’s like Suge Knight except she doesn’t smoke cigars, isn’t a Blood, and hasn’t been to jail. Oh yeah, and white people love her. She loves HBCU’s and takes in orphans. What’s not to like? I hate…to stop from crying. And no, I have no idea what that has to do with anything.

The revolution will not be televised…except on UPN…where during Black History Month, lots of movies with black people in them will be shown.

Happy BBQ!