Not sure about you, but I love warm weather. I’m so over cold weather at this point. With warm weather comes so many wonderful things. Women wearing less clothing, little birdies chirping at the women dressing with less.

Hell, I’m a man. Hear me pirate.

Gar.

Actually, that’s my sophisticated pirateage up there.

Anyway, I figure that its important to provide a bunch of pointers for women out there on how to maximize your body in the warmth of summer. Really though, I’d just like to note what the fuck NOT to do.

1. If you’re fat, be fat. Don’t try to lie to the mirror. The mirror doesn’t lie.

Had to come straight off the blocks with this one. This winter, I’ve seen many women wearing a wee-bit too tight cloth despite God’s apparent molding to the contrary. All women aren’t intended to wear tight clothing. If you’re of gut, put that motherfucking tight shit up. You shouldn’t wear form fitting clothing if you haven’t got any form. We rail on white girls with no hips and ass for wearing hip-huggers and then I see women with a little to much pouch-action going.

Newsflash: Your tits should be uptop and differentiable from your stomach. Two sets of boobs works great for the circus. Life? Not so much.

2. Daisy dukes can be your friend or your enemy. Chose that battle wisely.

I like daisy dukes. I like legs. However, all women ain’t daisy duke material. If you have ass cheeks falling out of your dukes because you and gravity had an argument, I just might hate you. If gravity gave up on you, don’t try to come back and win that battle after the war’s over and the treaty has been signed. Sneak attacks rarely work how you want them too. Men don’t like flobby ass cheeks. Ass should bounce, not sway sloppily.

3. Daisy dukes (contd.) Tackle the spiderwebs.

Not really sure the nice way to say this but um…I’ve actually seen a chick who looked like she had a mop in a headlock THRU her shorts. A little minor gardening can go a long way. There’s a reason horticulture is an actual profession. Nobody likes bad gardens and weedy plants. Call your arborist. Nobody’s saying your ass needs a Brazillian. But fuck, how about a Panamanian or something…you know, meet a motherfucker half way and shit.

4. Baby powder is important — except when I can see it.

At that point it becomes nasty. If I’m not trying to bake bread, I don’t want to see shit that looks like flour. Why do women come outside all baby powdered up anyway? Like, who the fuck thought that was a good idea? “Girl, I’m almost ready, let me douse myself in baby powder so I can look like the ghost of Jackie Robinson. All the menses love that shit.”

Seriously, I know it’s important to be clean before a little lickylickybouncybouncy, but what if no shower’s available? No licky for you. I’m almost sure it says, “Do not eat baby powder. It does not taste like powdered sugar.”

If this is you, open the medicine cabinet, take too many pills and kill yourself.

5. Clip your motherfucking toenails.

It’s been said a million times over but if your feet look like they’re made for lumberjacking, well, I don’t want to be anywhere in the vicinity. You might fuck around and slice my leg or something. And good gracious, you’d probably have the nerve to wear sandals too…wouldn’t ya bitch?!?! Wouldn’t ya?! CVS sells toenail clippers for pretty cheap. Do the air a favor and clip the toenails. Nails so jacked up you out there slicing air.

6. Let’s talk about summer dresses, mmkay?

Lord do I love summer dresses. The way they lay on chicks who have the body’s for them. However, that implies some women don’t have the body for them. It’s true. I’ve seen it. Dress looks like its fighting for position because some woman just HAD to get that one that’s a few sizes too small. If your shit can’t blow in the wind because it’s too busy being a catsuit you need Jesus.

7. If you look bad in a bra and panties, you will look worse in a bikini.

Once again, bikini’s ain’t for everybody. Shit, swimwear ain’t for everybody. The summer is the time when people like to wear less and the beach is the wear less oyster. And ya know, that’s fine. On the beach, you can do what the fuck you want. The goal is to be in the water. However, if your ass is walking down Collins in South Beach wearing a bikini that looks offended to be associated with you…Houston, we have a problem. Just stop it.

8. If you’re not hot…

…summer is so not your season. Perhaps you’d do better in Fall.

9. If you do have a nice body, make sure you accentuate it.

Don’t be out there being all ashamed that God provided you with men’s kryptonite. Though there is something to be said for leaving something to the imagination, most of us would rather not have to have the imagintion of JK Rowling in order to want to flub you. Show a lil skin if you got good skin. If not, just wear a leather jacket. And if your skin looks like a leather jacket…umm…eww.

10. Just say to yourself that you don’t want to be a hot ass mess.

As long as you try not to be a hot ass mess, I’m sure you can achieve it. As long as you got good friends too. If you’re a total loner except for your cat and a few cans of tuna…

…hibernate til winter.

Thank you and goodnight.

…Look at what I bring to the table. ”

Those were the words written by Prodigy of Mobb Deep. On his personal blog, Ballerina P decided to unleash unto the world the trends and shit that he is responsible for in the rap game. (taken from nahright.com)

No, seriously. And we are all better for it. I’m telling you, I’m a little sad the imp is on his way to jail…with nuggets like these, we might need to petition the judge for a suspended sentence on grounds of necessary unintentional comedy. I mean, if we are to believe that what the world needs now, is love, sweet love…then how can we send Prodigy to jail when he so eloquently lets us know why she love him. To wit:

TRENDS PRODIGY HAS SET SINCE 1992 AND STILL IS SETTING IN 2008 AND BEYOND:

#5 HOW I FOLD MY BANDANA

…

#19 WEB SITES, I HAD INFAMOUSSTORES.COM AND WAS WRITING BLOGS BACK IN 99 LONG BEFORE IT BECAME POPULAR IN HIP HOP TO HAVE A WEB SITE.

Oh Prodigy, how fortunate are we that you exist.

Snicker.

Well, since Prodigy seems to be delusional.as.the.fuck. I figured I’d go ahead and bite his style since you know, niggas be questioning my trendsetting and shit. Now, keep in mind, some of this shit may or may not be true. But fuck it, how dare YOU question PANAMA’S trendsetting!!!!

TRENDS PANAMA HAS SET SINCE 2004 AND IS STILL SETTING IN 2008 AND BEYOND:

#1 FIRST NIGGA TO START NAMING HIMSELF AFTER A COUNTRY ON A BLOG. WORD.LIFE.SON. WASN’T NO OTHER NIGGA RUNNIN’ AROUND CALLIN’ HIS SELF PANAMA. NOW ITS NIGGAS LEFT AND RIGHT WITH COUNTRY NAMES LIKE RON MEXICO AND ASIA AND SHIT.

#2 YO WASN’T NOBODY ELSE SAYING THEY WAS SEXXY AND SHIT BEFORE I STARTED THIS SEXXY SHIT. YO SON, AND ALL THEM NIGGAS THAT STARTED MISSPELLING SEXXY WITH TWO AND THREE X’S…BEEN DOING THAT SINCE DAY ONE. SPEAKING OF THAT SHIT…

#3 WASN’T NOBODY REALLY MISSPELLING SHIT AND HAVING GRAMMATICAL ERRORS IN THEIR SHIT UNTIL I STARTED DOING THAT SHIT SON. NIGGAS WAS ALL SPELLING SHIT RIGHT AND USING PROPER SYNTAX UNTIL I BROUGHT THAT REAL eSTREET LINGO TO THE NET SON. WORD TO THE INFORMATION SUPERHIGHWAY NIGGA.

#4 FIRST NIGGA TO FALL ASLEEP AT A BLOGGERS HAPPY HOUR AND MAKE IT LOOK PLANNED AND SEXXY. YO SON, CHECK THE STATS. WASN’T NO NIGGA DOING THAT BEFORE I HIT THE SCENE, KID. AND Y’ALL NIGGAS THINK FALLING ASLEEP CUZ YOU DRUNK WAS SOME SHIT YOU STARTED? FUCK THAT. HOW DARE YOU QUESTION MY TRENDSETTING, LOOK AT WHAT I BRING TO THE TABLE.

#5 THE WAY I USE THE ‘K’ KEY ON THE KEYBOARD. I USE MY POINTER FINGER. REST OF Y’ALL NIGGAS IS STILL ON SOME MIDDLE FINGER SHIT.

#6 FOR THAT MATTER, THE WAY I USE THE WHOLE DAMN KEYBOARD. Y’ALL NIGGAS BE TYPING. I BE PAINTING NIGGA. I BE PAINTING.

#7 FIRST CAT TO GET WHOLE POSTS STOLEN AND THEN HUMILIATE THE NIGGAS ON BLOG. BITCH ASS NIGGAS WAS DEFINITELY GETTIN’ ROASTED.

#8 RECEIVING BUTT NAKED ASS PICTURES OF RANDOM BLOG-GROUPIES? ME SON. ALL ME.

#9 BLOG-GROUPIES? ME SON. ALL ME.

#10 SHIT HOW MANY HALFBREED ASS FRENCH NEGROES NAMED PANAMA YOU KNOW OUT THERE NOW? 10? 20? WHO YOU THINK STARTED THE HALFBREED NAMED PANAMA SHIT? HOW DARE YOU QUESTION MY TRENDSETTING, LOOK AT WHAT I BRING TO THE TABLE.

#11 SHIT…THE TABLE. I DID THAT.

#12 FIRST NIGGA TO MURDER 7 OTHER BLOGGERS IN BLOG-SOAP OPERA. I DID THAT. MURKED ALL THEM NIGGAS. REST OF Y’ALL BITCH ASSES WAS JUST THINKING IT BUT WHO PULLED THE TRIGGER? ME NIGGA. THATS WHO.

#13 STARTED AN ONLINE COLLEGE (PJ UNIVERSITY-WESTSIDE) AND NOW NIGGAS LIKE DEVRY AND UNIVERSITY OF PHOENIX ALL IN MY KOOL-AID. FUCK THEM.

#14 YO, THAT ‘I HATE B.E.T’ SHIT? ALL ME NIGGA. NOW ITS FUCKIN SEXXY TO HATE B.E.T. FUCKERS.

#15 SPEAKING OF SHIT OTHER NIGGAS FUCKIN JACKED…THE ELLIPSE…I STARTED THAT SHIT. NOW I SEE THEM ALL OVER THE FUCKIN PLACE. NIGGAS JUST … LIKE CRAZY. FUCK YALL. THATS ALL ME.

#16 MAKING WORDS NOT RHYME THAT NORMALLY WOULD. WHEN I BE WRITING MY BLOGS HALF THEM SHITS DONT BE RHYMING. LOOK IN THE MIRROR NIGGA AND ASK YOURSELF WHO STARTED THAT SHIT. BEFORE ME Y’ALL WAS ON THAT SHAKESPEARE SONNET SOLILOQUY BULLSHIT. ME NIGGA, TRENDSETTER P, I MAKE THE WORDS SING NIGGA. AND IT AINT IN A/B FORMAT BITCH.

#17 PICKING UP CHICKS WITH STRICT WIT AND CHARM. ALL ME. UNLIKE THE REST OF Y’ALL BITCH ASS NIGGAS I NEVER SHOWED MY FACE AND STILL HAD CHICKS THROWING THEIR PROVERBIAL eDRAWZ AT ME. LICKEMHIGHLICKEMLOW69…I SEE YOU GIRL.

#18 THE WAY I WEAR MY WATCH. TWO RUBBERBANDS. WATCH. TWO MORE RUBBERBANDS. REST OF YALL JUST ROCK A WATCHBAND.

#19 SHOWED REAL STRIPPER LOVE BY SHOWING HOW IMPORTANT THEY ARE FOR THE WORLD. REST OF YALL JUST WATCH ‘EM. I EXALT AND EXPLAIN THEM. MAKE IT RAIN? NAW. I MAKE IT THUNDERSTORM.

#20 I COULD KEEP GOING BUT IM TIRED. FUCK YALL. HOW DARE YOU QUESTION MY TRENDSETTING, LOOK AT WHAT I BRING TO THE TABLE.

I’ve got two words for you: Jean “Motherfucking” Strahan.

Also known as the ex-wife, divorcé of one New York Football Giant, Michael Strahan.

Actually that’s three words unless you just count the “Motherfucking” as a nickname (which I do), therefore making it interchangeable, which still renders it as two words. Logic be damned.

Fellas, you REALLY need to consider the shit that you do while you’re married because this here justice system is going to fuck you with no vaseline. Basically, don’t get caught cheating on your wife or you just might lose roughtly 70 percent of your net worth.

Yes bitches, not 50, but 70.

Such is the case in this sad tale about divorce, retribution, and a (must be) woman judge.

To wit:

Michael got taken to the cleaners to the tune of $15.3 million in the divorce (New York Daily News headline: “Wife: 15,000,000, Strahan: 0″). He also had to vacate the couple’s 1906 Montclair, N.J. mansion, the one with the 22,000-square feet, 12 bedrooms, seven baths and a garage big enough for 20 cars.

The ruling was even more than Jean actually sought for the less than six years of marriage. The judge wound up giving up more than half of Michael’s estimated $22 million of net worth. from article, “Giant Headache” from Yahoo! Sports

Say it with me, class: Gotdamn! Dude, getting taken to the cleaners is so not heavy metal. However, if he OJs her ass with a gun instead of a knife, that would definitely qualify him as hip-hop.

Gunplay is so hip-hop. Word to Smith & Wesson.

And why did he get fucked 40 ways from Sunday taken to the cleaners? My guess is he sucks as a husband, but this probably helped:

Strahan’s rep took a beating in the divorce. It was alleged he ditched his wife and twin 2-year-old daughters to jet off with his mistresses, one he supposedly called “Cupcake.” Then there was the time, Jean alleged, he secretly videotaped her sister as she undressed only to later allegedly deposit $30,000 in her bank account.

And, maybe most damaging to female viewers, there was the rebuke by the judge for not remembering Jean’s birthday or their wedding anniversary. Every man knows that’s tough to overcome.

Dude, calling a woman, “Cupcake” is so not the hotness. I don’t care if she is just your jump-off sperm holder. But that’s WAY better than videotaping your sister-in-law undress. For fuck’s sake, what were you thinking? Things like that are what makes marriage such a fading institution. You just can’t trust anybody these days. Plus, people apparently can’t keep secrets either since he allegedly “secretly” taped his sister-in-law but motherfucking Yahoo! Sports knows about it. Some secret, Santa.

It’s no wonder El Idiote Strahan got laundered. He approached his cheating with reckless abandon and if the child support case of Diddy is any indication, New York state doesn’t play when it comes to infidelity and uberfuckery. Of course there is a downside to this whole thing (aside from the serious downside that Strahan will have to face if the actual settlement goes through, he’s appealing)…

…you see, Jean Strahan just might catch a bad one. Michael Strahan is a rich nigga. But he is also about to become a broke nigga. Yes people, he will not be able to live like he used to live once his career ends (like in a year). And you do not mess with a Black man’s money. She’s white too?! Oy vey. I’m getting OJ flashback as we speak, except instead of a white Bronco, it will be a black Escalade with limo tints and a bulletproof fiberglass casing.

Let’s just say, Jean Strahan might need some security because she took his house, his money, and she doesn’t really have to do shit except sit back and laugh at him.

“I ain’t saying he should have killed her, but I understand…” ~ Chris Rock, Bring The Pain, 1996

Word to the wise when purchasing a wife…let the buyer beware.

That bitch might cost you 25 to life one day.

Michael Strahan, this is your life.

I don’t like talking about people’s mommas, but umm…

…Michael Vick’s momma needs a good talking to.

How in Sam Hill do you raise TWO superstar, abnormally, talented fuck-up athletes and not once sit them down and teach them the difference between right and wrong?

And for the record, I don’t think the dogfighting is the most heinous thing one can do. Hell it isn’t even illegal in all states. However, electrocuting, hanging, beating to death, and any other inhumane crime to a dog is why I think that nigga should fry.

Fuckin’ fry him. Throw the book at him and the kitchen sink. Put his ass in jail with Shillinger from Oz. I’m a pet lover to the nth degree. I love animals and I hate when bad things happen to animals. Unless of course said animal is trying to maul me or something, in which case, well…

…they do say all dogs go to heaven.

The jury’s out on grizzly bears who attack kids and little people on camping trips in the woods. Then again, how would you feel if somebody broke off into your crib and tried to eat dinner there like nothing was wrong. You just might go all bear on their asses, now mightn’t you?

Back to the point. Michael and Marcus Vick are fuck-ups. Marcus, though not completely understandable at all, at least wasn’t making the big bucks yet. Then again, there is never any excuse for stomping on the leg of a downed player on the field risking major injury to him. I was going to go into his rap sheet, but fuck it, google his ass or check Wikipedia. He’s had numerous run-ins with the law.

And Michael, oh Michael. Savior of Atlanta and godsend to the NFL. He became the damn face of the NFL so you’d THINK that at some point he might say to himself, “Self, perhaps I should stay on the straight and narrow (and not call myself Ron Mexico anymore) and protect the hundreds of millions of dollars I’m making. You know, that sounds like a good idea!”

His self and himself didn’t have that conversation though. So then we have the infamous Ron Mexico fiasco. Mind you, I actually think that the name Ron Mexico is a good damn name…spreading genital herpes and then signing into treatment clinics under an assumed porn-star alias? Not such a good look.

Speaking of not good looks, there’s that little “water bottle” incident that happened on his way out of Miami. I don’t give a shit if the results came back as negative. Why WOULD you use a bottle specifically used for hiding drugs? He might not have been busted that time, but his ass was definitely using that for other shit at other times. Fuck the justice system, I know guilty when I see it.

All eyez on Vick.

Then we have the now infamous and potential career-ending, jail-directing, money-decreasing, Bad Newz Kennelz dogfighting ring. Like I said, I’m kind of neither here nor there on dogfighting. But when you go torturing fuckin’ animals for sheer amusement, well fuck you. And dumbass…he said he had no knowledge of what was going on there.

Man, too bad they have that whole “state’s witness” problem because once niggas start busting out the gymnastics and flipping on your ass, it’s a rap, chico. One cat already flipped. You think he ISN’T going to take Vick down? Fuck it, I don’t ever want to see any parts of jail.

And NOW they’re trying to get him on some RICO shit (google it). He might lose his livelihood AND all of his money. Which all begs the question…

…what exactly was Vick’s momma telling her sons while they wre growing up. Granted they grew up in the projects and there are definitely lessons that are learned the hard way, but these niggas reek of behaviorial- and bad judgement- issues. It’s like they just don’t realize that, “hey, I’ve come from nothing with all of the potential in the world to make millions for what I can do with a ball…but ya know, the measly thousands I can make dogfighting are something I just have to do for my boys…”

Is Michael Vick being targeted? Yep. And its his own damn fault. Was Marcus Vick being targeted? Nope, he’s just an idiot. But the blame all falls on the parents and what they didn’t teach the kids early on…

…do. not. be. a. dumb. nigga.

They must have been at practice that day.

And no, this isn’t a review of the television show on BET. I haven’t watched the show and have no plans to do so. It’s on BET. AND it used to be “Hot Ghetto Mess”. When I said I wanted new original programming at BET, somehow, this isn’t what I envisioned.

Nope.

A few weeks ago now (or sometime last month) a bunch of niggas made strides for the Black community with their attempts at building our long lacking self-esteem and showing the young Black people that we can make it despite whatever obstacles, either historical or present, are lobbed our way.

The NAACP buried the n-word. Now this isn’t news to anybody clearly. This made national news and opinions were plentiful. I didn’t really pay much attention to most opinions because I felt like this was the biggest damn waste of time in the history of wasting time. This is up there with Sheila Jackson-Lee’s uber-fucking-stupid attempts a few years ago to get hurricane’s named after Black people. I wonder how she feels now that motherfucking Katrina wiped out a bunch of niggas. Somebody needs to follow up with her on that one pronto. You know Black people have too much time on our hands when we introduce affirmative action into the weather.

I mean, really.

I also think it was just damn dumb. I’m a big fan of symbolism. I really am; especially symoblism that turns a system on its ear and makes a splash.

Burying the n-word? No splash. The funny shit is that I’m not convinced that none of the niggas in the NAACP don’t use the n-word. It’s just too easy a word to use if you’re Black. It really is. I’ve actually made attempts to stop using it to no avail. No dice. I’m sure I could stop if I really wanted to, but you know what, I like the n-word. Just like I like cursing. Makes for much more spirited conversations.

My main beef with symbolic gestures like the NAACP’s is that it stops there. After the burial there is nothing. There’s no real significance. AND it just sounds like a dumb ass idea. Corny. Contrived. A waste of resources. In fact, I want to know who green lighted this idea. I sincerely hope that this wasn’t on the docket of important business for the NAACP and that somebody just threw this shit out around the watercooler one day and a bunch of niggas ran with it. If it wasted no more than 15 minutes of actual “we could be changing the world” time then I suppose I ain’t but so mad aside from the lack of significane in the aftermath.

But once again, it is the NAACP and my guess it that these niggas have nothing better to do until the next nigga comes along and screams racism somewhere…

Speaking of which, I have to say something here that might be of unfavorable view. But man, niggas owe them Duke Lacrosse players a big motherfucking apology. MAN…I’m so glad I kept my opinion to myself on that one. However it gets to a much bigger issue, and one that will need to be expanded upon in the future.

As Black people, we are so tired of being trampled upon and outcast that when something does go down, we tend to act out emotionally first. There is no judge and jury. Everybody’s guilty. And that does pose a problem. It means that we think too many of our own aren’t guilty and too many other people are guilty. It’s a legitimate reaction-solely based on the amount of shit Black people have had to and still have to go through-but its one that more times than not needs further examination.

Tawanna Brawley anyone? True, indeed, there are more than enough instances where we are completely justified in our reactions and responses, however, when we’re wrong we tend to just move on to the next shit (Al Sharpton) with very little in the way of regretting any mistakes.

Yeah so pretty much, all the problems in the Black community are Al Sharpton’s fault since he’s at the center of all the ruckus in the Black community.

Think about that for a minute.

Anyway, random I know. But its Friday, and I’m bored.

It was written.

That title up there was a one-day title of the album I’ve been infrequently working on for the past two years. For one whole day I thought it was a good idea. I got over that really quickly.

Why am I sharing this? Because sharing is caring.

The more you know. *ding*

So I think I’ve officially decided to start blogging again. You may be asking yourself, “Self, why would Panama decide to start blogging again?”

Now, that would be a strange question to ask yourself considering that you’d probably have no idea why Panama would indeed decide to start blogging again, further, why in tarnation would you even think that you’d think you’d know why Panama would decide to start blogging again?

I mean really people, there’s only room for one narcissistic sexxy bastard in everybody rear view and it ain’t Kanye.

Speaking of Kanye, have you heard his new single, “Can’t Tell Me Nothing”? That one song has me completely anticipating his album. I can’t wait to hear what else he’s got cooked up. It’s so far left field from what he normally does. Sure he isn’t breaking any new ground lyrically, but I’ll be damned if it just ain’t a hell of a way to say, “I’m Kanye and I can do most shit better than the rest of you fucks out there.”

Kanye just might be my role model. Between him and Usher, its no wonder I have an inflated sense of self. Not to say that it isn’t a completely warranted and deserved inflated sense of self, I’m just saying that I’m humble and I do what nobody else can do.

That last sentence was sponsored by Kanye West and Usher Raymond. You have to love anybody who says things like that out loud and actually believes it despite the sheer ridiculousness of those statements.

*cough*iamhov*cough*

And further speaking of Jay-Z, it pains me to say this, but he REALLY should have just saved that horseshit verse he threw on Rihanna’s song, “Umbrella”. I love that damn song but man does his verse suck. He adds nothing to the song and doesn’t even ride the beat well with that damn “in anticipation for precipitation…” rehashed line.

For the first time in history, I wish Jay wouldn’t have jumped on a song. Can we please have a moment of silence, Jerry Falwell killed hip-hop.

So…after all that randomness, the reason I decided to come back to blogging is twofold.

1) We The Voices has returned and I realize that after you’ve taken a break from writing, it’s very easy to never want to write shit again. I need to get back into a continuous flow of writing. Since We The Voices was my baby, it serves me only write that I should probably be the most prolific writer on there, however, as of yet, I haven’t felt like writing shit. So I need to get back in the saddle and ride that puppy reckless.

After re-reading that last sentence, I’d like to apologize to PETA. And yes, that was a ’spicious sentence. I’m currently wearing a pink shirt.

Besides, part of the audience from We The Voices came directly from my own blog site. Makes no sense to re-launch something with no actual audience or platform for an audience. Back in the saddle, bitches.

Plus, there needs to be some reason for me to actually wear my, “Tell a friend to google Panama Jackson” t-shirt.

By the way, why are there dandelions in the parking garage?

2) There is just way to much stupid shit going on in the world right now for me not to comment on it. I mean seriously. Despite the fact that about 4 people might read this, you simply must head over to this story:

Dumb Niggas Shoot Eachother Because That’s What Dumb Niggas Do

Okay, that’s not the real title but it should have been. And if I was the Editor-In-Chief of a magazine or a Black-run media outlet I’d have let that shit slide.

Oh…wait.

Dammit.

Anyway, these two niggas had one of their friends (oh, and despite the fact that I’ve asked msyelf to curb my use of the word “nigga” in writing, somehow it just seems quite appropos here), shoot them in the legs so that they could avoid being hazed by the frat that they had been accepted to pledge.

Hmm…correct me if I’m wrong here, but when you signed up for the shit, you knew what you were doing bucko. Man up, bitches. As was pointed out by the officers in the story, there were SO many other means they could have come up with if it was THAT bad that they wanted to avoid the hazing. And um, to the campus spokesperson who says that hazing doesn’t exist anymore…

…I pooh-pooh on your assetion.

I’m compelled to ask a question in resonse to this, “who fuckin’ does that??”

Oh right, I already answered this, “dumb niggas”. Hmmm, think about this too…wouldn’t you be a little bit suspicious of your friend who ACTUALLY pulled the trigger…on both of you? I’ll just give him a flier on this and say that he just wasn’t thinking of the potential of murder part of the attempted-assisted-suicide murder that his pussy boys asked him to commit. Just gives me pause that some cat would be okay with it.

“Yo, Jerome, after you find my mirror, can you shoot me?”

“Yeah, no problem, give me like 2 minutes…I’ll be right there.”

Oh yeah, and the dumb niggas left the gun IN THE CAR that they drove to the hospital in.

Seriously though, if you ever ask me to shoot you to get out of something, I’m calling the police myself. You need Jesus. And the person who you get to actually go through with the shooting might help you find him. Accidentally.

Dumb niggas. They’re even dumber because not only can they NOT plege that frat anymore, they can’t release any rap albums because the streets teach us that shooting one’s self to get out of some shit is the most pussy form of self-defense. You get no street cred for those bullets. And as their parents, I’d disown them.

Anyway, stuff like that makes me want to blog again, so I shall.

I’m back bitches.

I can’t leave blogging alone the game needs me.

It was written.

That Lauryn Hill, what a prophet.

Today’s post is being brought to you by the good people of Jackson G. Tickle Enterprises and the letter W.

Followed by the letter T. And not so far behind, the letter F.

Put it together class and what do you get?? WTF.

As in the what the fuck was Fantasia thinking when she wrote some of the shit that is on her newest album, the self-titled Fantasia?

Despite that question, I find myself feeling warmed by her album.

Do you know why I appreciate artists like Fantasia (and similarly people like Jagged Edge or Mary J. Blige, during the Great Crackskapades of the early to mid 90s)? I love them because they do not run away from their inner-ghetto. You see, so many of us el Negroes try to hide from the fact that we do indeed possess ghetto bones.

I have some. Do you? It’s okay. In fact, anybody with ghetto bones, please, with a show of hands…show yourself!

*hands a-waving*

Ahh…the smell of truth.

Being the ghetto queen that Fantasia apparently is (down to the inordinate education), she has decided that she was going to make an album for her people. What people would that be? The same people who actually found her song “B.A.B.Y.M.A.M.A.” to be a rallying cry and an endearing, honorable tribute to the single, un-wed mother.

Not that there is anything wrong with being a single, un-wed mother. Then again, there is a hell of a difference between being a babymama and a single mother. Color me ignorant, but it seems that Fantasia made it okay (once again, to her fans) to aspire to be a baby mama whereas a single mother would usually rather not be in that situation. But once again, color me ignorant.

And then color me bad. Ohhh…beeeeeeeehave.

On her newest magnum opus, Fantasia has a song entitled “Uneligible”.

I’d like to take a quick smokebreak, so please re-read that last sentence as many times as you need.

*smokebreak*

If you’re anything like me, you probably looked at that word a few times before calmly asking yourself, “is that a word?”

Then, I briskly walked to my dictionary to check. Nope…in fact, I’m about to go look at my office dictionary right now.

Hold, please.

*holding*

Nope, not in my office dictionary. It goes from unedited to unemotional. But you know what I did find?

Ineligible.

A one letter variance, but a signficant one nonetheless. Which begs the question…two questions actually: why not just use the word ineligible?; and why doesn’t she have any friends who tell her better?

Oh, she answers that on the album’s last song, “Bump What Ya Friends Say”.

Well, okay then.

You’ve really got to love songs like that don’t you? The song “Uneligible” is about the good men who all seem to be “uneligible.” Ooh, ooh, I have a question!!!

Since she refers to her men as uneligible, does that actually make them uneligible? Perhaps there is some subtle distinction between ineligible and uneligible…perhaps her men just ain’t available (hence, uneligible) whereas ineligible men are just not qualified!!!

Perhaps Fantasia is the smart one. She’s done gone and created a new word, probably by accident since I don’t actually respect her mind. Sad, I know.

But until she can read one of my posts I stand by my statement.

Ouch.

What I do appreciate about her new album is that she really holds nothing back. For instance, here are some of the song titles: “I Nominate U” (c’mon, don’t we all really want to be nominated for something??), “Baby Makin’ Hips” (you laugh, but I love me a woman with baby makin’ hips), “Two Weeks Notice” (not sure how this really applies to her people since most of them are probably fans of being babymamas and probably work at places that a two week notice probably ain’t all that necessary, let alone a two minute notice).

Ouch again.

I’m mean.

Then there’s that guaranteed hot shit, “Bore Me (Yawn)”. I actually have to give Fantasia a lot of credit here. People often give you song titles, but when was the last time people gave you the intransitive verb to go with their song title?

Did Babyface? How much better is this song title: “Every Time I Close My Eyes (Blink)”?

Or “There She Goes (Point)”?

Clearly, he’s not as forward thinking as Fantasia.

And the entire album makes sense because her first single is “Hood Boy”, a sort of double entendre since clearly she needs a hood boy, and it’s also apparently who she mad the album for, the “hood, boy”.

Deep. Perhaps I do respect her mind. A broke clock may be right only twice a day, but when it’s right, it’s right.

Mind you, a lot of this stuff is actually pretty good, music-wise, and she can sing despite the fact that I pretty much don’t like her voice at all. What’s really funny is that for every person I’ve mentioned that she has as song called “Uneligible”, every body thinks its okay because Fantasia apparently isn’t the scholar we all pray for.

And she can’t read, though I’m inclined to believe that she’s probably made headway in that deparment since her admission. Which if I’m not mistaken was during the “writing” of her book. Dictaphone never had it so good!

All in all, I appreciate Fantasia for what she brings to the table. Unapologetic ignorance. She exists to make me realize that people like us do have a place in the world. For me, it’s at the table with lawmakers and hookers, for her it’s at the library, but there is a place nonetheless.

Irregardless of what we may all think, Fantasia is finna do things her way. And through her, we are all connectededed.

She is us and we are her.

Thank you Fantasia for keeping it real and damn you to Hell for causing a whole new generation of little ninjas who will undoubtedly think that the word “uneligible” is actually real and okay since it’s a song that I think women who can’t find a good man will be drawn towards.

Thank you Fantasia, for not crossing over but bringing the suburbs to the ‘hood.

I believe it was the great prophet and soothsayer, Big Daddy Kane, who uttered the now famous words:

“…stick a quarter in your ass cuz you played yourself…”

Deep.

Deep.

Those words are like a no smoking sign on your cigarette break or the free ride, when you’ve already paid. Some would say those things are ironic. Me, I say those things mean you don’t read. Usually there are signs up that let you know all the information that you need to know.

Myself and Ace of Base? We saw the signs.

Thus brings us to one Jay Jenkins, better known as Young Jeezy, your favorite trapper’s favorite trapper, from Atlanta, by way of Macon, Georgia.

Young Jeezy is an idiot. If you have any time, please listen to this interview he conducted with Monie Love on a Philadelphia radio station. It is well worth it.

Radio Interview with Young Jeezy and Monie Love [spotted via Nah Right]

In this interview, myriad things are discussed: Lil Wayne’s comments about Jay-Z, hip-hop being dead, international relations and diplomacy, global warming, Tolstoy and the novel Crime and Punishment.

Okay, only the first two things were actually discussed.

I could be showing my age here, but I’ll just attempt to show all of your ages too. How many people here know who Monie Love is?

*lots of raised hands*

Oooh, oooh, better question. Who here knows better than to get into an argument with a Black woman??

*everybody’s hand (all nationalities, races, creeds) should be raised*

Let’s discuss how you lose an argument, like an idiot.

Ever since Nas decided to name his album Hip-Hop Is Dead, the streets have been abuzz with people debating that theory. This was either a brilliant marketing ploy by Nas to get everybody talking about him or just dumb luck. Well, the Youngest of Jeezy’s gets roped into a conversation about hip hop being dead.

He disagrees. Fine. And truthfully, call me an elitist or whatever, but why anybody would debate with Jeezy about hip-hop being dead is beyond me. I mean this is the same dude who rhymes words like “John Madden” with…

…John Madden. Or my personal favorite line of his, “…speaking of pockets, mine got the mumps…”

Pure poetry right there, my friend. Pure poetry.

But Jeezy decides that this is an argument he wants because apparently he has some feelings about this whole hip-hop is dead quagmire that so many artists are facing today. You see, Jeezy, though having said he’s not a rapper but a hustler who raps, has taken this personally. Somehow, he feels like Nas has made a personal affront to him or other rappers of his ilk. Ego much? He doesn’t say it so much as its implied from his tone.

Or maybe Monie Love just got to him and he started talking reckless off the dome because he didn’t have time to think. Who knows…either way, Youngest of Jeezy’s…this is your life.

And this is how you lose an argument. Monie Love posits that the concept of hip-hop is dead since hip-hop, as it were, was more inclusive and just one area didn’t get shine (as is now with the crack-rap, drug dealer turned rapper, bling-bling, crap rap) as happens now.

Jeezy feels that hip-hop isn’t dead…its just a new day and time with a new movement. Rap is for the kids. Rap is here to sell records.

Wu-Tang is (also) for the kids.

But uh oh…Jeezy fucks it all up and starts down the wrong road by asking Monie where she’s from (which would be London). He seems to be asking as if that where she’s from would make her perspective of rap completely different.

Nevermind that this is Monie Love of Native Tongues fame. The same Monie Love who’s been rapping for years and years. In the United States. With cats from the same streets that Jeezy probably claims to respect.

Somehow, Jeezy interprets Nas saying hip-hop is dead, and Monie Love saying that hip-hop is dead as them saying that they don’t respect Jeezy’s craft. Umm…nobody said that.

Poor Jeezy, because then he goes the route that so many misguided youth go when they misunderstand or take things too personally regarding hip-hop. You see, Jeezy, in his defense of hip-hop (and his role in hip-hop) being alive goes straight for the worst two arguments in history:

1) (Nas’ first week) record sales; and

2) (Nas’) street credibility.

Two things that have jack shit to do with hip-hop on their own. Yes, in today’s day and age, we do care about record sales. Even the hip-hop heroes of yore are complaining that they’re not selling millions. Nevermind that they’re making shitty albums or that they’re selling what they’ve always sold.

But umm…the focus on record sales is KIND OF the problem. And yes I’m fully aware that hip-hop is more business than artistry at this point.

Same goes for street-credibility. Umm…who really cares. If you’re the hardest, most connected, dude in the street, but you suck as a rapper *coughJeezycough* who the fuck cares. And that doesn’t define hip-hop either. Hell, A Tribe Called Quest weren’t any street hard niggas but I’d bet that Jeezy wouldn’t go saying they weren’t hip-hop.

Plus, Nas has never been out here talking about “busting guns” as Jeezy says. Unless I missed that album.

(I didn’t.)

Thing is, this idiot is PROVING her point for her. There’s only one school of thought from most people nowadays (well the youngsters) and that’s street cred and record sales. That’s what makes you a legit rapper. And that’s exactly what Monie Love was getting at…that is not hip-hop as it was. My favorite part of the interview is whoever is in the background that says: “because THAT’S hip-hop!” sarcastically as Jeezy rattles off about Nas’ street credibility, or lack thereof.

I heart her.

And let’s clear this up. Jeezy is not a good rapper. Never was. He’s a catchy rapper. Jeezy is syphillis. Fuckin’ around long enough with the shit that’s out there (all the wack ass music out now) and you just might catch something (Jeezy). But when you finally get tested (actually start listening to the music and what he’s saying) you want a cure (ANYTHING is better than Jeezy at this point being as his new album is a 2 dollar ho).

Jeezy is a product of our times. His first album sold well because he was “different”. At this point, I have no idea what his appeal is. Between him and Rick Ross, if it wasn’t for catchy beats, they’d pretty much be obsolete ass negroes. But even I listened for a minute and was caught up. He’s a master marketer. Ad-libs, catchy hooks and banging beats and wham! Jeezy did the same thing that 50 said The Game did. Average rapping over great production (The Documentary) and by George Michael, you have an instant hit.

Let me also add this, I’m not an elitist, nothing-but-the-old-school, backpack rap enthusiast who thinks Lupe Fiasco is the second coming of Jesus for rap music. In fact, I do not like Lupe Fiasco. I like commercial stuff just as much as I like “underground” and I don’t think hip-hop is dead. But it aint my debate, it’s Jeezy versus Monie Love.

Jeezy sounds like so many southern rappers nowadays who are taking everything personal. Granted, a lot of rappers from NY have been hating on the South…but its because they aren’t selling and they’re bitter. Oh well, NY needs to get the fuck over it. And make better music. But these niggas can’t take everything so personal either. For fuck’s sake Jeezy, nobody said they didn’t respect your craft (well I think you suck, but nobody asked me)…Monie pointed out that rap isn’t what it used to be…and who hasn’t said that?

“All these rappers sound the same…” or “everything out now is the same ole same ole…”

Any fan, including most rappers, has said that at some point.

Oh well, Young Jeezy has morphed himself into an idiot and he totally lost an argument by not thinking. He even capped it off by walking out, which is also known as the ultimate bitch move…oh well…

Since Nas started this, I think it’s only right that Nas finishes it. Young Jeezy, you’ve just been…

…ethered.

“He’s a nigger.”

Everybody in the world by this point has heard about Michael Richards’ blow up the other day. I’ve turned his name into a verb, adjective, and adverb by this point.

I called somebody a Michael Richard’s ass nigga the other day.

I wasn’t exactly outraged by the video clip. Perhaps I’ve just come to accept these things as part of society. Sure he was wrong, and sure he’s a bigot, and yes I believe he meant exactly what he said. Thing is, I don’t actually think he’s any different than any number of white people out there.

Or Black people.

Us Black people just don’t have a word that evokes the same type of historical symbolism as the dreaded n-word. If we had one, I’m sure we’d be using it too.

Mind you, none of that makes it okay. Michael Richards was wrong on all fronts. He wasn’t even funny. He seemed like a possessed jack-ass.

Well, of course, the Black community is responding to this incident through recharged efforts to stop everybody from using the n-word. I use the n-word. A lot actually. Not even intentionally. I think I’ve just been using it so long, for whatever reason, that it’s become second nature. I never use it around white people, which makes me believe that I could stop if I wanted to. Similar to cursing in front of one’s parents. I don’t curse in front of mom dukes.

Anyway, everybody’s favorite Johnny-come-lately civil rights group, the NAACP, has taken up the cause of trying to eradicate the usage of the n-word. And though I think that there are a million other problems more worth addressing, this time, I just might pay attention to their efforts because of one man.

Paul Mooney.

According to Allhiphop.com, Paul Mooney has taken to stopping his usage of the word.

Legendary African-American comedian Paul Mooney, who has written controversial material for comedians like Richard Pryor and Dave Chappelle, is well known for his using the word in his own comedy routines.

Like Paul Wall and the late Richard Pryor, Mooney has vowed to never use the word again during his routine. “I’ve used it and abused it, and I never thought I’d say this,” Mooney said. “Richards is my Dr. Phil ��� he’s cured me.”

Anybody familiar with Paul Mooney knows how often he uses that word. I mean, one of his favorite lines was that he said the word 100 times when he woke up in the morning because it kept his teeth white.

So for Paul Mooney to decide that he will no longer use the word, similar to the path of Richard Pryor and other luminary comedians of the past, at least gives me pause.

Not exactly pause enough to stop using it, but it at least makes me think. I suppose I’m somewhat of a contradiction when it comes to the n-word. For one, I will never use it around white people…ever. It just seems stupid to me to do so. However, I still use it around Black people. And I know that the hip-hop community has co-opted it into a term of endearment and legions of n-words everywhere think nothing of it as we use it daily, but it is still problematic.

For instance, we hate the Confederate battle flag, which is a symbol of the old, racist, slave-holding South. Black folks get into a tizzy when they see that flag. Yet we use the other symbol, the n-word.

My solution has long just been to do the same thing that we did with the n-word. Make it ours. I’ve planned on creating a red, black, and green confederate battle flag for years. And Lil Jon and Andre 3000 have both rocked Black and White confederate flags in videos.

Then again, that doesn’t really make much of a change now does it? I’d like to say I’m torn here, but I’m really not. I like doing things that spark controversy and a red/black/green Confederate flag would do just that. But I also like inciting some sort of emotion in racist white people…

…and defacing that flag does just that. I can imagine me walking around in Alabama with my own t-shirt version of that flag. Hell, I might get beat down because of it.

Guess that would be what it feels like for a white man to call a Black man a nigger…because white rednecks take that flag seriously.

I have no idea if I’ll ever really stop using the n-word. I suppose at some point I’ll just get tired of it or perhaps I’ll see the “light”. Maybe not. It doesn’t offend me that much. And I’m around like 8 white people in my entire life right now. And none of them would call me that to my face so I don’t even get the opportunity to get riled up about it anymore like I used to when I was in high school in Alabama.

It’s often strange to me what causes us to get active in this nation as Black people. We need some sort of impetus to bring to the people so that we can get motivated about something. People use the n-word everyday, white people I mean, but the second a famous person says it, we are able to organize into some sort of driving force.

I’m not sure how I feel about that. What’s the good of being an organization if you only act when something bad happens? You can never really create change if your only reactive. It’s transparent. If you only show up after the fire but don’t do anything in the first place to prevent it, you lose credibility, which is usually where I stand with the NAACP and lots of the once prominent civil rights organizations. No more proactivity…all reactive.

All in all, this whole discussion about the n-word is interesting. One, everybody knows all of the problems and everybody knows the most easy and effective solution. But nobody knows if it will make a difference. If nobody, whites or Blacks, used the n-word, would anything really change? Does it even count as a step in the right direction? I suppose in some ways it does…then again, I’m skeptical as race will never go away and therefore racism will never go away.

I mean, we’ll all be different colors forever.

Perhaps without the n-word we wouldn’t have to be reminded of it verbally.

Unfortunately, we’ll always be able to still feel it…

Such is life.

…her name is Cocaine.”

That’s a shoutout to anybody and everybody who was in Atlanta in the early 90’s when a certain shitty rapper named Kilo (later changing his name to Kilo Ali) hit the scene with his first local hit of the same name, “Cocaine”.

I’ll admit, the song was hot. I just have a personal beef with Kilo. You see, he’s from the Westside of Atlanta, Bankhead Region, Bowen Homes projects to be exact. It’s long been known as one of the realest hoods in Atlanta. One way in, one way out. I have a pass. My family has a long standing history of residency in Bowen Homes. Basically, I actually know who the hell the ninja referred to as Black is.

Bowen Homes is also featured in Outkast’s “Bombs Over Baghdad” video when Dre is running through the projects with a throng of pint-sized potential criminals chasing him. There is also one killer fireworks display in there every 4th of July.

Anyway, long story short, Kilo shot my cousin. In the leg, mind you. My cousin lived after that, but I’ve hated Kilo since then. Mostly because it was over some chick. This was before Kilo was Rappin’ Ass Kilo, but still, that ninja shot my cousin.

Fucker.

I wonder if you can call it a tangent if it has nothing to do with what you intended to discuss, but you start off-topic. Like, it’s a tangent…but it’s not a tangent, ya know.

We shall call what I just did, cosine.

Math 101. Get educated, bitch!

I’m sure you’ve heard the stink about a popular new energy drink intended to rival the crack-inspired, feather-fronting drink, Red Bull. This new drink has a name unlike any other name, but it’s a name that carries appeal with people of all races being as in its normal context, its debated, disputed, hated and viewed in America as a motherfuckin’ drug (like you didn’t experiment).

Yes, the name of this newest energy drink is indeed, Cocaine.

I’m not making that up.

Like for real.

You over there in the pink Parka politicking to Portishead, you don’t believe me do you?

*shaking head*

Well, fine then, go on over here and check out the website at Drink Cocaine dot com.

Oy vey.

This might be the only time I do this, but I’d like everybody, regardless of racial or ethnic background, white, Black, Jewish, Buddhist, Christian, Muslim, atheist, etc. to repeat after me…and let’s make sure we do this one altogether, mmkay?

Ready?

Repeat after me: THAT IS SOME BLACK SHIT!

*crowd repeats in unison showing that we can come together for a common goal*

I’ve been trying to find pictures of the Board of Commisioners who came up with this idea. Despite my thinking that this was probably conceived of and executed by a group of young white people who weren’t afraid to push the envelope, they have inherently created in my mind, some Black shit.

Common sense be damned.

And it’s only some Black shit in the idea that I could see Pookie and Ray-Ray on the corner like, “yo, this Red Bull shit is that crack son!! (a notion I’ve shared on numerous occasions) Yo…what if…and I don’t think you gonna be feelin’ me Ray Ray…but for real…we should make this shit and and call it Cocaine….you know ninjas would be all over that shit!!”

See, that’s how all great ideas start. A simple conversation between two ninjas who are much smarter than you might realize.

According to the site, the name is merely a play on the effects that result from consuming the drink, which I suppose, are cocaine like in nature. I wouldn’t know. I’m like the two girls in Nas’ “Black Girl Lost” song:

“…not that white stuff…”

I treat cocaine like 7Up, I never have I never will.

I just want to know who greenlighted the idea to call it Cocaine and thought it was going to be okay. I mean, had they wanted to call it Crack…do you think they’d have gotten the greenlight?

Hell, I want to sit in on the conversation that occurred where the idea was thrown out there where somebody was like, “yo, you know what ain’t in the market place? Product names with illegal drug names. I’ve been floating this idea out there about new babypowder called PCP but for some reason that just isn’t quite catching on with the execs upstairs. But I’m telling you, its an untapped market!! Hey wait…I got one…cocaine makes people crazy and energetic and murderous and rapist, but overall energetic…we should call an ENERGY DRINK…COCAINE!!!!”

Hmm…I take it back, that is not some Black shit, that is indeed some white shit.

Actually, it’s kind of a cross section…it’s some bi-racial shit. Mixed feelings like a mulatto.

I’ll tell you one thing, you’ll NEVER catch me with a can of Cocaine in my hands. Shiiiit…do you know what the penalty is for having 300 grams of Cocaine on you?? Especially the way this janky ass justice system works. I’ll be minding my own business walking down the street, minding my own business, drinking my pre-cooked Crack, when the police jump-squad me and throw me in jail for possession with intent to distribute cocaine. Nevermind that its a damn drink.

I feel like that little fact would get lost in translation somewhere. Not much trust for the federal justice system have I.

My thing is…how come nobody’s come up with a legal product called Marijuana yet? In fact, they should start calling NyQuil, Marijuana. Same effects and I always wake up hungry. And it’s not addictive, but you sure feel better after takign a hit of NyQuil right?? Puts me right to sleep.

By the way, I’ve never smoked marijuana once in my life.

The more you know. *ding*

Since I have nothing else to say here, I’ll just say this:

Long live drugs.