"Houston, We Have A Problem!!"

Before going to bed yesterday night I decided to unwind by taking a look at some blogs to keep abreast with the world of celebrity goss. Oh! necolebitchie.com showed me something that boggled my mind, chastised my spirit and frustrated my soul…twas a video paying tribute to the man that the world no go let quench, Michael Jackson.

Now, I got over the death the day it happened because well, we weren’t friends like that if you know what I mean*side-eyes self* But apparently, some*does air quotes* people are refusing to let things go. That’s how I came across this video staring Boys II Men, The Boxer That Could (Chris ‘Breezy’ Brown)……and The Game.*blank stare*

So I pressed play and watched with my face screwed up in the often imitated ‘What The Hell?!?!’ position like so:

Fascinated and horrified in equal bouts by the opportunistic use of someone’s death for money making & fame whoring! Two good things came out of this video though. First, Boys II Men. Need I say more?!?!Anything that can bring them back together making melodies is a-alright with me homie!!! Granted I’m awfully biased seeing as the ‘Nathan Michael Shawn Wanya’ album…was the soundtrack to many laughter-inducing high school memories…… AND the fact that I am still holding out for a man that will sing ‘I do’ from that album to me on my wedding day, I was more than happy to hear Boys II Men harmonizing for whatever cause, in this ‘tribute video’

2nd good thing, Chris Breezy. With all the madness surrounding him lately, I almost forgot I actually like his sound and the music he makes. Although the fact that this negro could engage in a full blown fight with an island girl(Yeah I said it! You have heard before now that black women are all sorts of crazy [no matter how civilized we act in front of company, don’t be fooled!]….but I believe a special place is reserved in negro heaven for women from the Islands….Rumour has it that they are the modern Antieneria race that historians thought had died) Antianeira literally translates to ‘Women who fight like men’...this made me question Chris Brown's own self-esteem, mental state and general love for himself. I mean, why do that to yourself?!

So yeah, I am slightly in awe of Breezy's audacity in taking on an Island gyal, lawd knows one of them looks at me like ‘What nigga???!?! What?!?!’ and I’m shamelessly begging for forgiveness. Immediately. On the other hand his antics had me reading the news with an ‘Oooh I wish a nigga would!!!’ look on my face. Seriously if a man beat me I don’t even know what I would do! I suspect it would involve bleaching clothes, scratching cars, rat poisoning, prank calling bosses at random hours and leaving threatening messages from your phone….all while crying like a woman in a Craig David video and softly singing Emotions, Irreplaceable or other such Destiny Child man-eater inspired songs. In other words, I would go Angela-Bassett-crazy on you. So don’t do it…..But I digress. I was saying the song reminded me that Chris can indeed carry a tune in a bucket.

BUT, all of this goodness did not distract me from the fact that The Game looks like an Aba merchant or that he seems like somebody with body odour or indeed that the song deserves a MIGHTY side eye. I mean, I knew it was going to be problematic when The Game started his rap with the words, “I’m Michael Jackson, you’re Michael Jackson.” Er,no negro, I aint. And neither are you so stop this foolishness and go back under your rock of irrelevancy.

Watch the video and see how serious he is taking this whole thing, like his name is Sir Game Jackson…actually at some point he does in fact say ‘We are all Jacksons’*sigh* Seriously, why?...why though?

I guess I should know better, after all this is a man with tattoos on his face.I strongly believe any homo sapien of adult age and the capacity to reason, who tattoos his face IS actually as stupid as you suspect they might be when u first see them…because it shows a lack of foresight….which in turn shows a propensity for foolishness(e.g. Nigerian leaders; shortsightedness is directly proportional to gross acts of foolishness. Tried, tested & trusted baby!!). So The Game is stupid.....If you look stupid( tattoos on his face, Michael Jackson tattoo on his arm….seriously, a tattoo of Michael at the graveyard scene of the Thriller video where he looked corpse ugly??!!Really though??), you sound stupid(spewing forth phrases like “….we are Michael Jackson”)…then by golly, you ARE stupid!

Long story short, I understand where Boys II Men are coming from with this song, they were famous at the same time as MJ in the early 90's and probably met him a few times. Brown is obviously influenced by Jackson as he has said wayyyy before now, and did in fact meet and perform with him. But The Game?….is an irrelevant pseudo-thug opportunist who has jumped on the band wagon and is like that person at the funeral who hardly knew the dead yet cries even louder than all the family members. He is a Professional Mourner.

Ridamndiculous!

Oakland, Oakland, Oak. Land. Mm-Mm-Mm. What to say??? Where to start??? My adventures in the west coast of America would have been incomplete without a trip to the notorious Oakland area. On my first ever trip to this geographical location, I was accosted by a man in a T-Pain inspired top hat attempting to chat me up with a mouth full of what I was forced to conclude was aluminum foil masquerading as ‘Grillz’. Oh Hip-Hop, our children will judge you. Harshly. My short sojourn in the land of plenty, ‘God’s own land’ in the words of many immigrants, has revealed several mind numbing truths to me; I’m starting to believe that America is really Fools’ Paradise and I'm beginning to doubt the potency of the American dream, but I digress from today’s tale biko, that discussion is a serious matter for another day and maybe another place too.

We resolutely forge ahead. So, after bar class, I am standing at the bus stop. Waiting for my chariot to drive (do you drive a chariot? Or ride it? Or race it??) me home. Due to construction work at school we have all been forced to take classes for the bar in Oakland. This plan sucks, in fact I have to borrow a Nigerian slang I hate and declare that this plan “IS NOT BUNZ!!!!’ Who thought it would be a clever idea to have a whole group of Anglo-saxons crashing into one of the dingiest and dodgiest areas around San Francisco bay to take classes daily. Not the cleverest of ideas. I am black and even I don’t feel safe!

But I digress, standing at the bus stop awaiting my chariot. A certified crack-head comes up to me and proceeds to chat me up….[chai! see my life!]....How do I know he was a crack head? The Harlem-shake-neck-twisting-movements coupled with the scratching, kind of tipped me off. He stood there twisting his head and shoulders like he was listening to an invisible ipod.*hiss* Anyways, he goes on to tell me that he is turning 50 this year and is looking for a ‘wifey’. *le sigh* I proceed to inform him I am not a day over 16. He quickly asked when my birthday was and upon providing a fake month, he leered and happily told me its only a few months before I become an “adult of 17 then we can….”. YUCKITY YUCK!!! [R. Kellys of the world should be jailed]. I proceed to ignore him after favoring him with a dangerous ‘you-disgusting-amoeba- wither-and-die-post-haste' look. Then I turn around and pretend a deep interest in the granite. After a few minutes of talking to the back of my head, I hear him turn around and utter a scream!!!

Now in these here parts, on these grimy Oakland streets, someone screams and I automatically do 2 things, dive to the ground in a bid for cover or run as fast as my Veet-enabled pins can carry me! No stopping to check for the proverbial ‘shi-shi’. So Crackfiend screams and I’m about Usain Bolt my way from there but as I turn around, dear lawd, I too screamed..……in laughter!!!!

Alas urban jury, lo and behold, before my very eyes was a real-life pimp!! Live.In.Living.Colour! The jokes just wrote themselves from that point on! This fake-ass-gangsta-pseudo-pimp was garbed in the most entertaining outfit. ALL GREEN. Green. Top to toe. Every sickly shade of green you can imagine was on this clowns’ body as he marched down the street looking as proud as sin.*sigh* He had a dark green hat…complete with feather, mint green shoes with the matching mint trousers, olive shirt, dark green jacket AND to make it rain on you kneegroes and gentlefolks, this brother had a light green pimped out cane!!!!MAKE OF THAT WHAT YOU WILL!!!!!looooool!!!! I ALMOST DIED OF LAUGHTER! And of course trust that the scream emitted by the 50 year old Crack-Don who wanted to “Hola at me right quick” was a scream of welcome to his friend Veggie Pimp. Mon Dieu! America the great!