White Girl Clean

 

New shit! New shit! Ok, that DJ Clue yell ain’t the same on a blog but if you smell me you smell me, nahmean? (yeah…I just rediscovered my Wu-Tang Forever CD…FIRE!!)

An Interpretation…

Rihanna and Jay-Z have put out a song. Now I usually don’t sully my blog with such beef patty foolishness so why do I suddenly care? Because everybody secretly watches The View for the Centrum-powered catfights. Other people messin’ around is addictive.

Because A Bitch Needs A Robot

Michael Jackson aka Princess Touch-A-Lot has arisen from the bowels of super-crazy reclusivity to be more crazy in public. Jacko’s not planning a concert or album but a 50 foot robot replica of himself that shoots lasers and roams the Nevada desert. I swear to Anna Nicole Smith I did not make that up. If I was that quick I’d be blogging from a G4 and splashing champagne on the stewardesses.

Ok, Not Fucking Fair

 

Dammit now I have to return to school. A whole 20 minutes after I graduate my alma mater decides to get cool and invite KAL PENN to TEACH AT PENN!!  When I was deep in the throes of my brown boy fetish and trying to elbow my way into their culture as that girl, wasn’t nobody like, you know who would totally kick ass as a guest lecturer? Kal Fucking Penn.

Ninjas In Kente Cloth

Conny went to Brooklyn Museum over the weekend and saw Judy Chicago’s The Dinner Party and the Global Feminisms exhibition. The former was beautiful and the latter intriguing on so many levels. I stumbled upon work by Aussie artist Fiona Foley and her photographs of the HHH – Hedonistic Honky Haters.

Whoa, Whoa, Whoa

So wait. Fantasia’s black ass shot a video in the ‘Burg? The one time Williamsburg gets it’s jolly plantation on and where is my black ass? Bein’ all splaboo with the hincty high-yeller folk in the city.

Don’t know why they picked it but if they’re looking for beauty they should have come to the ‘Stuy. Some rasta splaboo noted that I was so pretty that I must sing karaoke.  Now that is class.

I’m gonna have Crunk and Disorderly’s children.

“I Was There” Files: Macy Gray and Mims Album Release Parties

 

Whoa…that behaving myself thing I alluded to in the previous post went out the goddamn window with the quickness last night. And you know what facilitated the foolishness…Sparks.

“I Was There” Files: Musiq@ House Of Courvoisier

 

Ha! You’ll note that for once an “I Was There” post wasn’t filed under “foolishness.” Conny’s movin’ on up in the world.

Being Real Coconut With It

So Ms. Naomi Campbell left community service in a couture gown? I know upwardly mobile Jamaicans be overdressing for every-goddamn-thing but whoa. Naomi, you have got the crazy.

Dlisted is lettin’ it all hang out. 

And Conny was real coconut this weekend hitting up Liquid Love (A Sophisticated Meeting Place)  in her 227 dress. They literally had Caribbean flags hanging from the ceiling. Every man in the place was trying to marry me. No, I can’t help you get your ceeteezensheep — get away from me.

Oh and Uniqlo’s straight skinny jeans are that crack.

Conny Just Sayin…

So Conny was just cruisin’ Crunk and Disorderly, gettin’ her laugh on and keepin’ up with the Hollywood splaboos (that’s what wacko Jacko calls the nigras) when one of the Crunksters threw up this picture of Beyonce as a baby.