At a football game recently, the Cheerleaders paraded out to the cheers of the crowd. Yes, they were hot and clad in skimpy and sexy outfits. Yes they were pleasing to the eyes. Yes, they revealed a lot of skin. Behind me, a middle-aged man was making fun of his buddy as he leered at the girls old enough to be his granddaughter, “Oh you are going to have a stroke!” he jokingly said. The guy probably was going to have a stroke but it wasn’t the kind his buddy meant.
As I watched the pleasing-to-the-eye distraction, I thought to myself, “Is this really necessary?” With the fake smiles and midriff-baring outfits, leered and lusted at by old men like me. Hey, I was just kidding! I wasn’t lusting! I wondered about the whole meaning and aptness of this. A man’s game with a side show of hot chicks? What’s the connection? Who came up with this stuff? Maybe the same people who thought it was a great idea for hot chicks to do beer commercials and just about anything else that needs selling to the masses?
Back to the cheerleaders. Well they were standing on each other, doing lateral splits that threatened the frail hearts of the aging, falling into the arms of their beefy male catchers, gyrating, waving, doing whatever it takes to charm the crowd. The girls behind me barely noticed, too bad. The men behind me barely noticed a game was going on. Too bad.
Like I said, it’s dumb and utterly useless and maybe even a step back for female empowerment but hey, they looked darn good out there!
The war of words between boxer Floyd Mayweather and rapper 50 Cents continued last week with Mayweather saying that 50 Cents was no longer relevant. Mr. Cents hit back at Floyd, revealing that he had a problem reading. And not because of bad eyesight caused by being punched too many times either.
50 issued a challenge to the already challenged boxer by telling him if he could read a page of Harry Potter without any problems, he would donate 75,000 to a charity. Nice! Well I could settle that debate easily. Floyd doesn’t strike me as a very bright young fella and 50 was borderline relevant to begin with. So in a way, they are both right! Case closed.
50 Cents has 99 problems and reading probably isn’t one. In regards to their particular field, they are both representing quite well. An illiterate boxer and a washed-up rapper. Folks, we have a Mexican standoff!
Well if this isn’t a good reason to sue, then tell me what is. A female contestant on the show, ‘Dating Naked’, is suing producers. Guess why? Because they showed her nude. Yep, they showed her va jay jay on tv! The nerve of these producers! What were they thinking? Who does that? Anything to get some cash…
Apparently, Jessie Nizewitz was frolicking in the buff with her also naked date when an uncensored shot of her crotch was shown. Inadvertently? Cash grab? She was putting a wrestling move on her date, if you must know. If you also must know, as soon as I’m done here, I’m going to scour the internet in search of this crotch shot wrestling move.
To compound matters, Jessie has also reported that her boyfriend, yes she does have a boyfriend. Don’t ask me what she was doing on the show frolicking naked with another guy while her bf was sitting at home playing the organ. oh yeah, where was I? She said he hasn’t called her since her crotch was aired live and unedited. Why wouldn’t he call? Don’t worry Jess, his lost. I don’t think he was ready for your jelly. Show him again what he missed.
Tears of a Clown (album) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
About two months ago, I drafted this post, or at least the topic. I fully intended to published it but because of its seriousness, it never made it past the topic. I did, however, kept it in my drafts awaiting the right time. Today is that time.
Now the reason why I even thought of such a brooding topic in sharp contrast to what this blog is about, was that I happened to be going through a dark period, albeit short, where I was funny on the outside but really sad and gloomy inside. I was wearing a painted on smile, like a clown. Don’t ask me why as I really don’t have a reason. Call it midlife crisis?
Why is today a good day to undraft this blog? Well today, a man who portrayed the epitome of fun and laughter died. Robin Williams was the guy whose movies you wanted to watch when you were in a funk. His face alone would make you feel that all was well with the world. The fact that someone like him who stood for funny and carefree and gave off such an aura of well-being, could have so much darkness inside that made him take his own life, is incredible and hard to grasp.
Sometimes a clown cries beneath his mask…RIP Robin Williams.
So by now you would have heard that power couple Beyonce and her husband Jay-Z are on the outs. You may have also heard that her sister bitch slapped him a month or so ago in an elevator while Beyonce looked on. Apparently Solange wasn’t happy with the way her sister was being cheated treated. What? Jay-Z was creeping on the lovely and talented Beyonce? How could he? Well before you get asking that, ask instead, “How couldn’t he?”
Rumor has it that Beyonce is upset that her husband was all up in Rihanna’s grill. Know what I’m saying? And everyone went, “Oh no! Not Riri!” And I go, “Yawn”. You see I am one smart brother. I knew all this stuff while it was still only a thought process. “How?” you asked, easy. Jay-Z is a rapper. Rappers cheat. Ok, maybe that’s like saying all black guys have big penises, which they do so that point is moot. Yeah, they all cheat, it’s the GAME, they have to play it or be pussies. It’s the life they live.
When Rihanna came on the scene, she was first signed to Jay-Z’s record label and right away I knew he was tapping it. How could he not? She was exactly the prime cut he was waiting for. Fresh and young Caribbean meat! Come on Bey! you knew that too. I know I’m smart but you are no dummy yourself…um, never mind that last bit.
So there you have it. Today you learned that all most rappers are cheaters. You learned ‘Up in her grill’, you also learned that I’m one smart brother, something you should have known after reading my first blog.