When Being Mary Jane Ain’t Good Enough

Yeah boo, I see you. I want to give you a hug.

Yeah boo, I see you. I want to give you a hug.

I will never purport to be a woman. I’ve got one hangin’ and two swangin’ so my commentary in this matter is purely driven by keen observation and a perhaps morbid curiosity usually reserved for stalkers and Beyoncé stans.

But I don’t understand the the hype and hoopla surrounding Being Mary Jane, which began its season last night on the only station bringing us high quality programming from the Black perspective: ESPN.

Wait? It was on BET? My bad.

BET rolled out the red carpet for this. Gabrielle Union was doing rounds everywhere (except possibly her home…low blow, my bad, Gabby). To an outsider, it would seem that this is a big damn deal in the way that Red Tails was supposed to be. So in that sense perhaps its an apt comparison since Red Tails did not love me like XO. But it’s BET’s job to sell a product. So let’s move on from them and get right into the show.

From my perspective, Being Mary Jane is a much more realistic Scandal. As I said on Twitter though, Olivia Pope and Mary Jane Paul need to be each other’s accountability partners. They are bad decision mavens wreaking havoc on common sense with the passion of Jameis Winston during a post game interview. But where Scandal trends towards “no f*cking way” territory, nothing about Being Mary Jane seems that unreasonable. She’s a very successful woman with personal life issues that include romantic, family, and personal relationships. I know quite a few women who have slept with or are sleeping with married men. And even more that make bad decisions when it comes to men. None of this is new or crazy. I know a LOT of women who are very driven and successful in their careers but struggle outside of them.

[Aside: To be fair, I know men are the same, but we're talking about women in the media right now.]

So from that end, I can understand Mary Jane resonating with so many women because they can see themselves in her. Except…ouch. But again, such is life.

It did make me wonder though about the representation of Black women on television. To be clear, I realize that they are just characters and that to my knowledge no woman I know wants to BE Olivia Pope, Mary Jane Paul, etc. In fact, the only woman with a life WORSE than Olivia Pope on television is Fiona Gallagher from Shameless. Seriously, have you seen that show? The fact that Fiona hasn’t murdered anybody is a win in and of itself. I love Shameless.

Are Black women that starved for representation in the face of the “reality” shows out there that these shows which all seem to include Black women chasing married and unavailable men (you can throw in Tyler Perry’s The Have and the Have Nots in there too though I’m not sure anybody’s actually watching that) and pretty much failing on all accounts welcome respites from the ratchetry? In all of these shows, you have women who can’t seem to NOT be better than the paltry options presented before them. I said already that sidepieces are having the best year ever (2013), well this show picks the ball right up from where Scandal left it. Seeing a soft porn shower scene with Gabrielle Union is always going to be a win, but you can’t help but feel like, man, is this what Black womanhood is being whittled down to these days in the public sphere?

I remember many moons ago a slight uproar over the fact that the Taye Diggs show, Kevin Hill, didn’t include him dating enough Black women. He had a parade of women who were mostly white and a few really high yalla women. His main love interest, Leila Arcieri, was light skint as the day is long and it was a thing back then. Well it seems today that Black women are all side-pieces on our own shows but I don’t hear the uproar. Seems like everybody’s a fan. Or at least a majority rule of Black women anyway. It’s okay; judgement free zone, but I am curious about the why.

Back in like 2010, Black women dying single was the big deal. It seemed like all Black women were doomed to empty ovaries and unfulfilled hearts while all Black men ran amuck with racially ambiguous ESL women. Or something. This was proven to be untrue and the narrative (I HATE this term but it fits here…TWSS) got old quickly, almost reaching revolt-like levels. But it seems like, somehow, someway, the normality of sidepieces has entered the consciousness just like that old narrative did. Like, it’s okay. And these shows (reality and scripted) are more or less following in that vein in a life imitating art imitating life type of way. I don’t know if this is for better or worse and trends gon’ trend and eventually fade away anyway so maybe it doesn’t even matter in the long-term, though because I love my Black women, I do notice.

Obviously I like Scandal and will watch Being Mary Jane though it’s fairly boring so far (including the “movie”) and could easily be chopped down into a 30-minute show. I watch most of the ratchet reality shows because I feel like if I don’t, I’ll miss out on the Big Black Conversation About Nothing That Matters. I do think Mona Scott-Young sold her soul to the devil though.

So I ask, what gives? Does this get to be “just entertainment”? Is there a bigger picture here? Am I making a mountain out of a molehill?

Hell, does any of it even matter?

One last word of advice: don’t be Mary Jane.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. MAKE GOOD CHOICES aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

BET On Black?: Does BET Get A Fair Shake Nowadays?

A few weeks ago,  I got into an argument with a friend of mine who happens to work for what I once dubbed “The Evil Empire”. That company is BET. The argument was about the fact that I seemed to lack any sort of positive vibes towards BET. Basically upon mention of those three letters in order caused an impressive array of profanities that would leave a person afflicted with Tourrette’s in awe.

And I cuss real good.

Her point was that I was so prepared to dislike anything associated with BET that I wouldn’t even give the lineup of shows they had a chance. Perhaps – the plea went – if I were to give love a chance, I’d find that the programming was worth my time. Also, given how much I tend to b*tch and moan about Black programming, its possible I was doing a bigger disservice to the community by not only not supporting, but actively UNsupporting. I was like one of Aretha’s bras.

Can’t lie. That hurt a little. The bra parallel, not the lack of support comment. I mean, have you seen one of her boobs? Cleveland is hiding in there.

Moving on. While I could easily shoot down her latter argument using two words – Tyler Perry – I realized that I wasn’t even sure why I hated BET so much…anymore (the former arguments were very strong). Hell, I watch “The Game” even though I think the show has totally devolved into dramatic f*cktasticness. I attempted to watch “Let’s Stay Together” and “Reed Between The Lines”. I actually didn’t mind “Let’s Stay Together” that much, though now that I think about it, I can’t actually remember who was in it or what the show as about. “Reed Between The Lines” attempted to be a modern day Cosby Show, except with a blended family, etc. That show did little more than make me go back and realize how much edge “The Cosby Show” actually had. Cliff and Claire really didn’t take no sh*t.

Well, BET has decided to trot out two new shoes: “Real Househusbands of Hollywood” and “Second Generation Wayans”. So I figure, what the f*ck, I’ll give them a shot. Can’t hurt right and plus it’s 2013 and I’m trying to center my chi and meet this ninja Fung Sway. Or Schway. Somebody told me he stays in Cali. And in the spirit of positivity, let me maintain expectations.

Let me tell you something about expectations, they’re almost impossible to not have. I’ve watched the trailers for RHOH numerous times and you know what, them sh*ts were hilarious. You’ve got Kevin Hart in his prime and a slew of random arse hasbeen actors on a fake reality show, which to me means script. Yeah, there ain’t one on this show obviously. And this first episode left something to be desired. One thing I realized while watching this show was this: comedians need a script. Very few are just funny off the cuff for long periods of time unless they get on a roll.

See: Harvey, Steve. He can go for hours on one thing and get funnier and funnier. But that wouldn’t make for a television show.

“Second Generation Wayans” managed to be funnier than RHOH which, again expectations, surprised me. That didn’t make sense except…it had a script. I’ll tune in.

This was a long ass way of wondering two things: 1) are we giving BET a fair enough shake anymore? Hell, they snagged TJ Holmes for a weekly show that we must have somehow forgot existed because now its on once a week…right?? 2) Is BET doing a better job of bringing the type of programming we claim we want than we give it credit for?

I’m as guilty of making BET the culprit for all that’s wrong with Black America. But here’s something to think about. Melissa Harris-Perry’s show on MSNBC comes on every Saturday and Sunday from 10-noon. I love it. Actually, I just think I love her, but whatever, I’m tuning in. No seriously, I love her. Like looked her up to see if she was married type love her.

As Twitter is the best way to see what’s happening in Black America, it seems that many of the Ninjerati do indeed tune into her show on Saturday or Sunday mornings. On purpose. Which means we gave it a chance and I’m curious why b/c until her show aired, I’d never heard of her.

Would we have tuned in at all if it was on BET? Hell would we tune in NOW if it was on BET? I wonder. Actually, I don’t. The answer is no.

So again, I ask, does the perception of BET completely cloud our ability to even notice if BET is giving Black America some of what we have been clamoring for? Hell, even Nick Cannon in the promo for RHOH was like, “this show is on BET? F*ck that”. A joke and a funny one, but the point wasn’t lost.

Talk to me.

For the record, I do feel like we can get almost all of what we’re looking for on other stations nowadays. But that does beg the age-old question, what exactly are we looking for? Do we even know?

Mmm mmm mmm mmm.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. WHAT CHANNEL BET ON aka SHERANE GOT A BIG OLE FAT ASS aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

Yup, Another Minute-by-Minute Recap Of The Season Premiere Of “The Game”

So happy togetherrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Or not.

9:59: As I begin to prepare for my second annual minute-by-minute recap of the season debut of “The Game,” it’s probably not a good sign that it took me three minutes to find BET on my cable box. I feel extremely white right now. (And by “white” I mean “grown”)

Anyway, as “Lost In The World” — the Kanye song I listen to whenever I want to think about my dead goldfish — is playing in the background, they’re in the middle of an montage of things that made me wish I’d actually watched more than one episode of “The Game” last year so I can know what the hell is going on.

Confession time: You know how you’ll be watching some trailer for some sh*tty movie, and you’ll see a “much too established to be in this sh*tty movie” actor in it, clearly just there to collect a paycheck and go home?

Well, that’s how I feel about writing this summary. I have absolutely no interest in this show, but I’m only writing about it because I know people are going to want to read about and discuss it tonight and tomorrow. I’m officially a sell-out.

10:00: Another confession: I was kind of stressed about doing this. Live blogs, while fun, are pretty difficult to navigate because you’re watching, thinking of clever/relevent sh*t to write, and writing simultaneously.

But, since BET has five minutes of commercials for every three minutes of air time, I’m surprisingly good. Thanks Debra Lee!

10:01: I’ve never not been entertained by an Underworld movie. Just wanted to put that out there.

10:02: The show begins with Twin Mowry and Derwin Davis in a hospital. I really have no idea what the f*ck is going on right now. This — me not knowing what the hell is going on — will be a recurring theme with this summary.

10:04: Do laugh tracks make anything better? Seriously. Have you ever seen something funny happen in real life (i.e: a fat man in a little coat slipping on a patch of ice) and thought to yourself “Damn. This is funny as hell. You know what would make it even funnier? A gotdamn laugh track.”

(Ok, I actually have thought that before, but I think you get my point. Laugh tracks suck.)

10:05: As Derwin and the good Doctor McWhateverTheHellHisNameIs have a pissing contest, I’m reminded of something a few of my soon to be PhDed friends joke about all the time.

According to them, doctors (surgeons especially) usually are a few sandwiches short of a picnic basket, and aren’t exactly the smartest people on Earth either. They’re known as the dummies in the advanced degree world. I have no idea why I’m telling you all this. Perhaps I think you’d find the years long MD vs PhD feud to be more entertaining than my summary of this scene.

10:07: We see Jason Pitts for the first time, as he’s completing a mid-day booty call with some onesie-clad chick named Gloria. Don’t bother asking me why someone would have sex, put a onesie on, and get back in bed, because I have no answers for you.

She chides him about his pattern of not dating black women (I smell a recurring theme!!!) before inviting him to a wedding. Hmm. Shouldn’t booty calls make baby steps when they’re trying to score some “lets do something in public now” time? I mean, a wedding? It usually takes at least 20 sessions to even make it to a Wendy’s drive-thru.

10:09: Seeing Rick Ross on screen reminds me that his “Rich Forever” mixtape may be the best mixtape I’ve ever downloaded. (And yes. You just read a hip-hop purist put “Rick Ross” and “best ever” in the same sentence. If you have a problem with that, I’ll levitate on all you p*ssy n*ggas)

10:10: Pooch Hall Malik walks in while carrying a drunk hoochie, and the drunk hoochie is carrying 15 pounds of ass and 115 ounces of weave. This probably won’t end well.

10:11: Sign #3453 that I’m getting old: I remember when Anne Marie Johnson — the mom in the Kevin Hart Ford Explorer commericals — played the token hot chick in all of Robert Townsend’s movies, and the plastic woman in “I’m Gonna Git You Sucka.” I wanted to sleep with her before I even know what “I want to sleep with her” meant.

10:13: Derwin Davis is having his Emmy moment as he speaks to Twin Mowry. Nostrils are flaring. Cheeks are flushed. Voices are cracking. This is some high-level, Inside The Actor’s Studio-type sh*t right now.

10:14: Checking to see if they were joking about the show being an hour long.

10:14: Finding out that it is actually an hour long, and that I’ve already committed to writing this entire f*cking recap

10:14: Contemplating suicide.

10:15: The producers of “The Game” must have ESP, because as soon as I was thinking about giving the peace sign to life, they threw on some Kanye to snap me back to reality.

10:18: Brandy the bartender tries not to peek at her cue cards while exchanging barbs with Jason. Honestly, is there a 30-something celebrity with a weirder and more random resume than Brandy? She was a legitimate pop star, Kobe Bryant’s prom date, actually killed someone in a car accident, has been surpassed in pop culture relevancy by her much less talented and likable younger brother. It’s like her Wiki page was written by a dyslexic.

10:19: I have to say, Jason is easily my favorite character on the show, and since they give him all the best lines, he must be the writers’ favorite character as well.

10:22: Wendy Raquel Robinson (“Racks on Racks” for short) is in great shape, but I think she may have gotten to that strange point some women get to when they work out so much that they’re in danger of going from “she looks good” to “find the nearest methadone clinic

10:27: Literally nothing important happens in the five minute span from 10:22 to 10:27.

10:27: I misspoke. Something important did happen. My feelings about the laugh track have gone from “very annoyed” to “I wish a plague on the family of whoever thought this was a good idea”

10:28: I’m going to put my serious hat on for a second and say that the relationship between Racks on Racks and Pooch Hall Malik is what happens when moms fall in love with their sons. Please, single mothers out there, if you ever find yourself falling in love with your son, suckerpunch him in the eye. Trust men, in 20 years, you’ll be a better woman and he’ll be a better man for it.

10:28: Since when does “naked chick found dead from an overdose” = “cue laugh track?” Am I missing something here?

10:32: As I’m beginning to get progressively more bored with the show, my mind begins to drift to more important things, most notably have Twin Mowry and Derwin Davis ever slept together in real life.

(I don’t think so. In fact, I hate when people say things like that. (pot meet kettle) But, I wouldn’t be surprised if they did.)

10:33: Abortion Bombshell!!!!!!

10:35: Gotdamn. These two really go for the jugular when they argue with each other. Am I just naive? Do people actually argue like this in real life? Seriously, they say things to each other where the only rational response would be murder.

10:35: Cue Kanye again as Twin Mowry gets her own Emmy moment. I kind of like her’s better.

10:36: Really? You’re going to stop in the middle of giving the OD-ed weave monster mouth to mouth and argue? Really, “The Game” writers, you thought this would be a perfect time to add some levity?

10:38: Even Dead Ray Charles can see that Jason and Brandy are going to start dating. Perhaps he’ll even hit it tonight.

10:39: Or get married

10:41: I feel like I should be mad about this, but this KFC “wingman” commercial may actually be the most awesome thing I’ve ever seen. My favorite part is the slow motion face shimmy while one of the women is eating a wing.

10:42: Two things this Mexican honeymoon scene makes me think about:

1. How much money did they have to pay “The Hangover” people to borrow their phone camera montage trick?

2. Why does Brandy look like she’s wearing a sock in her panties? Seriously, forget about camel toe, it looked like she was hiding the camel’s entire f*cking face in her draws.

10:45: Who’s going to cry for the poor little yellow kid who couldn’t get rhythm from a sister? Who’s going shed a tear? Are you going to cry for him? You?

10:48: This new movie “The Vow” was great the first time I saw it, when it was called “50 First Dates.”

10:51: Brandy. Race. Jason. Brandy. Race. Big Booty Keisha Jackson. Race. White women. Race. Black Women. Taye Diggs.

10:55: Awww. Derwin and Twin finally made up. BTW, is it just me, or does seem like Twin Mowry always dresses like she’s from the future?

10:56: You know, I’ve been thinking if this — my girl telling me she got an abortion a decade ago and the baby actually wasn’t mine — would piss me off. Honestly, it would. Don’t know why.

10:58: The chick from everyone’s favorite Progressive State Farm commerical makes her annual appearance as Derwin’s baby-momma, which reminds me of problem my dad has with “black” commercials.

He thinks that white casting agents don’t know how to cast black couples in commercials because the women are always much too good-looking for the men they’re with for it to be believable. When I told him once that it was actually realistic because this — getting with women who rate much, much, much higher on the “looks scale” than I do — was the story of my life, he said “You played basketball, though, so you don’t count.

10:59: Seriously, who ever is the lacefront technician or weave grip on this show must make like $200 an hour.

11:00: As Derwin ends the show by killing a guy in his driveway and running his bag of presents (That was actually some gangsta-ass sh*t), I’m left to wonder how much longer “The Game” will stay on the air. I don’t actually want it to be canceled again. Many people I know seem to like it, and even though I’m still kind of salty that their write-up on the Ebony Power 100 was like 1000 times longer than ours, the husband/wife team of Salim Akil and Mara Brock Akil seem like good people

But, snark aside, it feels like the show is on auto-pilot right now, and I’m not sure if it can be fixed or if they even want to fix it. Perhaps “The Game” is the game they’re running on black America because they know we don’t have sh*t else to watch.

 —Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

Aw Hell, The BET Awards Came On Again

I've really got to meet more white people so I can do MTV instead.

I remember a few years ago, BET seems to have begun to turn a corner. The Awards show which had long been associated with pure f*ckery and general shame had almost gained a bit of legitimacy.

But with Twitter at its apex, BET decided to have as much ridamndiculousness as possible this year. And you know what that means: Black Twitter almost exploded. Luckily BET always has a gospel segment which is where 90 percent of people check out and go to the bathroom, buy some drugs, or call their mothers.

By the way, as I’m writing this I just heard somebody say that Patti LaBelle’s voice is the most powerful voice on earth. Ain’t that right, boo? #true

Anyway, I had no intention of writing about the BET awards, but since I decided to watch it, I feel compelled because of the amount of f*cksh*t I’ve observed. So allow me to tell you about a little of it…my observations.

Why did Cee-lo put on a porcupine, feather, cap wig and purple shoes…THEN have the nerve to curse while wearing the gayest pastor coat in history?

Marsha Amborsius – bless her heart – has no booty whatsoever. I often wonder if women with no booty go to sleep every night and hope to wake up with a booty. Not even a big ole ass, just something well proportioned to the rest of her body. I’m a formerly Black man (thanks to Cee-lo and his get up I quit the Black race) so the hindparts are necessary to some extent. Marsha does have nice legs though with her spray on tan.

What the f*ck was up with everybody singing off key? It’s like everybody forgot to do a sound check AND the sound engineer quit right before the show over money. Alicia Keys sounded a little more of husky voice than usual AND was off key. Basically she sounded like The-Dream if he were to ever hit puberty.

Speaking of WTFness, what was up with all the profanity during the show? Aren’t they supposed to do the clean versions of songs? And if you’re going to do that for a Black awards show, you need a 30 second delay, not a 2 second delay like they were using. I feel like my TV cursed me out. And I didn’t like it. Stop it, television. I bought you TAKE THE FADE N*GGA!!!! TAKE THE FADE!!!!

I love how Chris Brown made a joke at his own expense. I really think that Chris Brown can totally redeem his career if he keeps on putting out dope music (which he’s been doing) and learns to enjoy life and laugh at himself and stays far and far away from all forms of social networking that don’t require him to run his words through at least 2 PR reps and a white woman.

Ain’t gonna lie to you, I’d marry Patti LaBelle right now. Jill Scott too. Oh and by the way since we’re talking about necks (we are now), can somebody find Gladys Knight’s neck? Did a Pip take it?

I don’t know if you all know how much I hate Kelly Rowland’s song “Motivation”. But I do. A lot. I think she sounds like pure D sh*t singing on it. And yet, her live rendition was…well, dope. She gave one of the better vocal performances that I’d seen during the night. Amazing. I’d totally bang her out.

Johnny Gill. Stop it.

Steve Harvey, for all of the non-sense we attribute to him really is worthy of getting an award for being a humanitarian. He hasn’t personally made my life any better but I’m sure somebody’s gotten further along because of him. And dude really does care about family values and manhood. It’s why he’s keeping so many women single…so he can focus on the men. <—-its like I just praised him AND threw him under the bus at the exact same time. Panama? Stop it.

I don’t care what anybody says, Rick Ross looked like he lost 738 pounds with that white Louis Vuitton suit he had on. I could barely see him. He was like a sliver of his former self. Wait…what?

The Nicki Minaj and Justin Beiber exchange was about as awkward and inappropriate as you can get at an awards show before somebody calls the police. Between that and Lil Wayne et al. bringing out a bunch of 12 year olds while singing, “…I wish I could f*ck every girl in the world…” last year (or a few years ago whenever), the entire Young Money camp needs to be on somebody’s watchlist. Not like a terrorist list, but a list nonetheless.

That poor Viewer’s Choice winner announcer, I won’t even add her name here…man she f*cked up so royally. Like, there are f*ckups but then there are f*ckups like she had. Thing is I couldn’t even tell who’s fault it was. I think I’ll just blame BET, because well, anytime BET is a possible culprit, it’s BET’s fault. Thing is…after she f*cked up and knew she f*cked up…she should have said something like, “go f*ck  yourself San Diego”, “Dip Set b*tch” or “Suck it” then threw the mic on the ground and walked off. You know you’ve done bad when even Drake won’t hug you and sing you a song about his insecurities.

This Beyonce performance sh*t was SUCH a copout but genius marketing move on her part. She doesn’t have to do anything but add an extra camera to her set to stream back to the BET awards. All it cost her was a “what’s up BET” shoutout. Oh well, that’s why BET stays losing. That and because Debra Lee buys her dresses from Lowe’s. Add to the fact that this was CLEARLY not live since ya know, its like 4am in London town when that aired.

Speaking of Beyonce, and I feel like we mentioned this here before…she might be the hottest celebrity that I have no desire ever to want to see naked. I’d be much more inclined to see Kelly in the buff with her legs reaching for the sky than Beyonce. She has like zero sex appeal to me. That is odd, like a Lil Wayne outfit. By the way Wayne, Andre 3000 called, he asked if you’d stop stealing his 1998 steez and be original.

I think that’s enough for now…sound off. I know you watched the Awards….good, bad, ugly?

What were your observations?

Talk to me.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka BLACKASAURUS JONES aka GIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

 

 

 

 

Thoughts About The 2010 Centric Soul Train Awards And The Rainbow Is Enuf

If you were following twitter or know Black people, then you know that the Soul Train Awards were last night (or a few hours ago if you’re reading this at midnight). Now, I’m not here to bash the Blackness. Nope, I’m taking a positive focus. Panama loves the kids.

With that said, I’ve made some observations. Creep with me.

In case you believed that positive focus thing, I lied. But, I don’t think hey were horrid. Just…special.

(Oh, and by the way, f*ck Comcast for having Internet outages up and down the East coast and forcing me to type this post using my iPhones Notes app. I HATE typing on this damn thing.)

1. R. Kelly put his foot all up in that show opening performance. That was the vintage R we always look for. Yay. It’s just too bad all I could think about was the that he was eyeing somebody’s daughter on stage. Wouldn’t have been my child up there. And did that joint ever go to trial??? Where is the honeycomb hideout?

And Chicago is one soulful arse city.

2. That opening f*ckery that Terrence and Taraji “acted out” was the oddest waste of time in award show history. Its like they didn’t realize it would suck until the show started but they couldn’t stop it. Wow was that bad. But I was entertained by the dance-off. That’s not true. I loved Taraji’s outfit. She could have danced a Mexican Mariachi Dougie in that outfit and I’d like it.

3. Has any other song gone from hot-as-hell to forgot-it-existed faster than Willow Smith’s “Whip My Hair”?

4. Something about El Debarge bothers me. I’m not sure what it is but I’m pretty sure I’m afraid to smoke with him around him without security and a taser.

5. This award show has featured a lot of booty. Like a lot. This isn’t a bad thing at all. But every performance save for Anita Baker’s tribute featured some voluptuousness. If this is the message that Centric is trying to put out to the masses, I just might be on board with them.

6. Grant Hill stays winning. Period. Grant Hill doesn’t have to win sh*t ever. He married and stayed with Tamia.

7. Is it me or does it seem like there have been like 4 awards actually given out?? And I can’t even remember those. Not that anybody cares but that’s odd for an award show, no?

8. Melanie Fiona seemed real happy to receive that award. I’m happy for her. Even though given those nominees, she shouldn’t have won. But kudos to her.

Sidenote: I recently (and finally) saw For Colored Girls. It wasn’t bad but that was one hard movie to watch. It has like zero replay value. I haven’t read the choreopoem or seen the play, but the woven in monologues were hard to digest and process in context of the movie to me. Then again, it was totally a movie for women. I lost focus about 100 times while watching it. Too bad that For Colored Dudes has already been done in the form of Boyz N The Hood.

9. Somebody needs to do a documentary on famous singers who go to prison. None of these dudes seem in the least bit phased by their time. Hell, Ron Isley seems like he never left.

10. Damn Keyshia Cole looks great. Hood. But great. Well she looks like a mess really. But a good looking mess. Like, potato salad. I like potato salad.

11. This is going to sound odd, but I don’t understand Bilal’s appeal. Short of “Soul Sister” I haven’t like a single song of his. I know folks love him but I don’t get it.

12. The Isley Brothers catalog is f*cking ridiculous. It’s like champagne wishes and thirty white b*tches.

13. Aside from looking prison gay, El Debarge looks like he’d sell you a used Dodge Pacer and swear it was a BMW.

14. Eric Benet looks like he might be a d-bag in real life.

15. Poor Ronald Isley. That brotha looks like he needs a hug. He’s happy and sad and has no idea why. He just wants to make sure he’s not being taxed for this performance.

All right, those were some of my observations. VSB, did you enjoy the awards? Highlights? Low-lights? All of the lights?

Speak on it.

-VSB P aka The ARSONIST aka 21 CUCKAROO GANGSTA GILLIGAN aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL, HE A 3