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What The?: Solange ROCs Jay-Z

12 May

ImageAs this has been my longest hiatus to date, let me first begin this post with a heartfelt, two-count apology:

1.  Firstly of course, for not being able to condense all my life’s activities into the same 24 hours that God has afforded Oprah, Malala Yousafzai and Kim Kardashian.

2. For climbing out of dormancy to bring you all this bit of breaking tomfoolery.  My husband told me that if I was going to publish this post, I should at least admit that while I do strive to advance myself spiritually, socially and through modes of learning and higher education, the God’s honest truth is that while not completely absorbed by foolishness and absurdity, I do on occasion let the clutches of ratchetness envelop my soul…a tiny little bit (for which I intend to begin my penance shortly).

Now, in the ever-so-clever words of Mobb Deep, “there’s a war going on outside, no man is safe from…” 

Unfortunately, while Prodigy and Havoc were undoubtedly pontificating about their daily struggles on the mean streets of Queensbridge in the mid 90’s, they obviously didn’t realize that in just two short decades, that war would pale in comparison to the one that people regularly fight through the medium of social media and the internet; a war in which NO ONE is spared. Apparently, this has been made all the more evident by TMZ’s recently released “surveillance” video shot (and sold by some dummy who will obviously no longer be gainfully employed) of music royalty, The Carters and Solange Knowles while on an elevator at the Standard Hotel after last week’s Met Gala in New York.  Now, I won’t pretend to know what set off Solange’s mollywop trigger (however, any person with even a rudimentary understanding of addition coupled with a little cause and effect could most likely surmise accurately on the matter…I’m just saying), but as shown in the video, your girl attempts to put in WORK on her brother in-law, while still glammed out in her coral Philip Lim cocktail dress and never askew wig!! Screen Shot 2014-05-12 at 6.21.36 PM

But for me, what was even more bizarre was the fact that although styled, tucked and taped to perfection in her peakaboo Givenchy gown, King Bey made no real effort to intervene or mediate the fracas between her sister nor her husband.  Jay was bobbing and weaving, Solange was throwing up her set, her purse and a karate kick and Beyonce stood silently, lest she crease the organza of her gown.  Seriously, it was almost as if her Ambien-Xanax cocktail chose just that moment to kick in.

I’d be lying however if I didn’t say I was impressed with Jay-Z’s restraint.  If not for his wisdom (or the constraints of arthritic knees, who knows?), the publicity surrounding this melee could have taken a much uglier turn.

So, what say ye?  Should Beyonce have attempted to settle things between her sibling and her spouse?  And, what in the world could have possibly occurred to make Solange behave in such a frenzied manner?  But most importantly, will the Carters add Solange to the line-up now and rename their tour “Family Affair”???  I imagine we will ALL be staying tuned for this one!

Sign of the Apocalypse: Drake and Breezy Fight over Rihanna (GASP)

14 Jun

Did I say Apocalypse?  Obviously I mis-typed.  What the title of this post should have read was: Signs That I’ll Be Taking an Apocalyptic Style Nap Due to The Yawn-Worthy Gossip That Drake and Breezy engaged in fisticuffs.

Apparently said melee transpired after Drake allegedly minced no words (via a note…yep, real gangsta) about his status with Brown’s ex, Rihanna.  Now, I have no plans to sully this blog any further with a bunch of hearsay and blather so feel free to get the supposed details about this boy brawl here, here and here.

I will however close by asking if I’m the only one who saw this coming???  As far as striving for inspiration as an entertainer, I say mix creative juices with whomever you want, but c’mon.  Drake’s cameos in RiRi’s videos, their innuendo induced performances and then her recent Birthday Cake collabo with Chris all made for a very intricately volatile situation…A situation where it seems that people have caught feelings and/or never lost feelings; so much so that now folks are nicknaming Drake the Evelyn Lozada of Hip-Pop and Pretty Boy Brown is having glass cleaned out of an open wound.

I know, I know.  This is a tragic and upsetting time for all the #TeamDrake and #TeamBreezy shrieking tweens out there, but understand that this is not BREAKING NEWS as Russ Parr or TMZ have lead you to believe.  Somebody wake me up when news breaks  that one of these overexposed celebrities donates half their fortune to something newsworthy like the Clean Water Project or the End Auto-Tune Initiative.  Until then, *yawn*.

The Measure of a Man

24 Apr

Okay, really guys?  Stop blinking rapidly and refreshing the webpage!  It’s really me!  I know that my posts for 2012 have been few and FAAAAAAARRRR between, but seeing as how we’ve discussed my various power moves as of late (promotion, anyone?), I trust that you all understand.

What’s funny is,  I’ve been a little skeptical lately as to how I would find time to get back into blogging, and if I would still have anything poignant to say, but truth be told, I’d forgotten how cathartic this practice is on a daily basis, so I imagine that I will be doing better to make time!

At any rate, with my new responsibilities and the annihilation of anything that even remotely resembles a structured daily schedule, it hasn’t only been me who’s had to adjust.  While my honey and the big Pack Kids have been supportive (who knew that after a thankless 10-hour work day, “the twins” would have warmed up left overs for themselves and run a load of dirty dishes without being asked to do so…the fact that the clean ones from the morning were still in the dishwasher is neither here nor there…), it’s been The Baby Child who’s antics have let me know how truly missed I’ve been between 8 and 6.  Whether it’s sitting up under me until bedtime, requiring that we act out the latest Dragonball Z fusion fight stances or helping me to sort his fruit juice splattered laundry, once I’ve crossed the threshold, the kid is basically not letting me out of his sight until bedtime.

The other night after I’d made him a fruit salad, The Baby Child insisted that he sit in my lap and share his fare with me.  This of course entailed serving each other all “Coming to America” style, sans the large ostrich feather fans and handmaidens.  When The Honey got home, it was all he could do not to burst into laughter.  Instead, he popped a grape and told The Baby Child that it was his job to feed me fruit and for me to sit in his lap because he was my man.  The Honey proceeded to shake his head at me, chuckle and change out of his work attire into his sweats.

After our palettes were thoroughly satiated, I convinced The Baby Child of what great quality time he could spend with me before bed by helping me to sort some white laundry (don’t judge me).  After getting half of the clothes in the washing machine, I caught sight of him intently inspecting, then snatching up a shirt and gleefully running up to his room.  Days later when I got home from work, The Baby Child greeted me at the door with kisses, an inquiry into what was for dinner and fully dressed in his “good clothes” from head to toe, but with that missing white undershirt billowing over his own toddler wear.  Taking the bait, I asked him why in the world he was wearing his father’s beater.

“Because mommy, I’m a MAN and I’m gonna get all the girlfriends.”

Uh, whaaat?

So, clearly I am not sure at what point my baby opted not to fill his father’s shoes but instead his undershirt, and in doing so, equated that with being “a man”; or even in being “a man”, that meant being imparted with girlfriends, but it is apparent that although this child is extra times ten, I must say, at least he has modeled his mini-manly self after a pretty wonderful prototype.

Now, if I could just get them both to put the seat down!

Playing Catch-up!

30 Mar

Have you ever just awaken one day, feeling as though you’ve shaken yourself loose from an alternate reality and had to ponder on how exactly you got to where you were?

Like, when did this happen?

Or, how did I miss that?

And, in my quest to do it all, have I really been accomplishing anything at all?

Unfortunately, that has sort of been my tale of woe over the past three months.  While I have been forced to be highly productive in many areas relating to my life and career, I feel as though I have been missing so many of the little things that, in en masse, are truly what make my life whole.

For instance, my inability to attend my ladies book club meetings; you have no idea how difficult describing Katniss and Gale and Peeta’s quasi-love triangle across three novels to my honey (who only wants to see the movie and couldn’t care less about the precise descriptors of Panem or the almost lyrical narrative of a country on the brink) has been.  Or having to regretfully decline an offer to coach students at my local track club because my schedule simply won’t allow it.  Or how about being shocked at learning something entire new and unexpected about my kids?

Eating Dinner with my Irish twins last night, I was doing a little raving over my spaghetti sauce loaded with grilled and sliced kielbasa (not vanity, just self-appreciation).  When I asked The Big Boy and Girl what they thought of their dinner, my son in no uncertain terms told me that he did not like my proffered meal.  After I got over my initial shock and hurt feelings, I asked him since when could he not abide by my cooking?  It was then that my daughter busted out laughing and said, “since he became a vegan!”

Hope You Weren’t THIS Guy on NYE!

2 Jan

While this bloke wasn’t actually ringing in the New Year bumbling down the streets of London, if we are being honest, some of you did bring in 2012 in an incredibly identical inebriated fashion.  And while it may seem all fun and games to start your year off popping bottles and sipping cris, the reality is that being a sloppy drunk and a slovenly lush is not only an un-sexy move, but it can lead to memory gaps, injuries, the bubble guts and that infamous morning-after migraine.

Besides, with Big Brother looming just about everywhere nowadays, would you really want your grandmother to clutch her pearls in embarrassment because one of her bridge club members saw your tipsy New Year’s Eve exploits recorded for all posterity on the 11 o’clock news?!

In truth, we have all been blessed to see yet another year, where many unfortunate souls simply have not.  That makes each New Year memorable and worth remembering, don’tcha think?

The Winners and Losers of the 2011-2012 NBA Season

26 Nov

It’s funny because as my honey and I sat around the television in total gluttonous-mode watching an overabundance of both NFL and NCAA football for the past three days, I asked him what exactly we were going to do to get our daily sports allowance on Christmas Day with the NBA Lockout still in full swing.  Licking his gravy stained fingers, he looked at me and promised that the players and owners would come to a resolution well in advance of the holidays, just in time to reinstate my annual Christmas Day Laker hatin’.

Taking that bet, I told my honey that he was crazy to think that the NBA players would agree to any sort of amended terms that the owners presented this late in the season after the way they had been treating them more like serfs than partners.  But wouldn’t you know it, today after 15 hours of talks and in true acquiescence, the players reached a deal with the owners for the NBA Season to begin on Christmas Day.

So thank you David Stern, Derek Fisher and ‘dem.  Due to your indecisiveness, hemming and hawing and extended vacation days, I now have to honor my wager with the honey, and will be hand washing his delicates, massaging his back and detailing his leather interior for two whole weeks!

NOT winning!

Bey’s Baby Bump: Now You See It, Now You Don’t?

11 Oct

Like she does every now and again, one of my best sister-friends texted me this evening to shoot the breeze.  Not about the weather, or Herman Cain’s 9-9-9 plan though, but to chat it up about Beyonce’s pregnancy and if I thought she has been wearing a prosthetic baby bump for the past several weeks after revealing her first trimester to the world.  Now while we thirty-something grown women actually do have other things to do with our lives than mull over Beyonce and her celebufetus, the topic only came up after my girlfriend sent me a video where Beyonce was interviewed on Australia’s “Sunday Night” news show, and in the midst of taking her seat on the set, the bun in her oven appeared to have deflated right before our eyes.

Now, Beyonce has the world in a tizzy wondering if she has been faking her pregnancy, are she and Jigga planning to adopt or if they have a surrogate to actually perform the manual labor (pun intended) come February.  Personally, I can’t imagine Bey and Jay feigning a pregnancy for the sake of superior media coverage or at the risk of multimedia whoredom, but after having seen this video, her wide-eyed reaction to the alleged belly flop (right around the 59 second mark) and then her hutched-over posture throughout the remainder of the interview, I do think that Mrs. Carter is preggers, but has been embellyishing a bit.

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