Some news you receive is so expected, you bat nary an eyelash. This blurb is one of them. Greg Oden says he is going to sit out The 2012-13 season. I admire his consistency, it is what he has in common with all the all time greats. You always know what Greg will bring to every game. In related news, Morgan Freeman is in discussions to star as Greg in a biopic. The screenplay has revealed a deception that will rock the sports world: Bill Russell duped The Trailblazers to select him number one overall in 2007. He is surely the greatest winner in the history of basketball.
For more Greg Oden tidbits check out this interview with Mark Titus at Grantland.
Comedian, radio personality, romance expert, fashion plate, and mustache dye enthusiast Steve Harvey and Gospel music’s Diddyesque lightning rod Kirk Franklin are, out of the kindness of their hearts
, giving you the opportunity to watch them ply their trades on the same bill for one easy payment of $39.50 or $49.50. The show, which brings to mind the tradition of mildly related service pairings offered by Black businesses, think Ray’s Laundromat and Video Rental Store and Larry’s Auto Repair and Candy shop, is expected to be a hot ticket. Steve Harvey was a part of the most successful comedy tour in North American history, and Kirk Franklin has sold more records than any other gospel artist in The Soundscan Era. Nielsen launched Soundscan in March of 1991. Steve and Kirk are betting that they are the next Chicken and Waffles, and not the next Jay Z and Robert Kelly.
Steve has already noted that it will be difficult for him to make it through the show cleanly. Here is an excerpt from one of the tour’s press releases:
“…It’s going to be funny just watching me trying to get thru this show cleanly. I’m probably going to remind you of somebody you know.”
The tour kicks off in Atlanta Georgia on March 19. Other cities that are set to be blessed with the presence of Steve Harvey and Kirk Franklin are Tampa, Memphis, Jacksonville, Nashville, Shreveport, Louisiana, and Charleston, South Carolina.
It has been nearly seven years since another pair of Titans, Robert Kelly and Jay-Z attempted to bring their talents together for a colossal tour. The result of Jay-Z and R. Kelly’s Best of Both Worlds tour were a mixed bag of pepper spray, possible gun play, hurt feelings, and disappointed fans. I doubt that Mr. Harvey and Mr. Franklin’s egos and entourages will clash to the point where the seven or so city tour will have to be cancelled, but since I am not one to break Murphy’s Law, I will explore the foolery possibilities that this tour provides if one of The Original King’s of Comedy is reduced to being just another opening act for God’s Property.
The first two shows of the tour in Atlanta and Tampa feature only polite applause for Steve, accompanied by smatterings of nervous laughter. The softer comedic material prepared for The Gospel Comedy Tour 2011 is experiencing a slow agonizing death on stage, and and Steve’s entertainer’s ego can’t handle it. He watches from backstage while Kirk’s brand of gospel fusion brings the audience close to ecstasy, and player hates. For the show in Memphis Steve decides to do something drastic. He decides to tap into the power of sex.
Steve adds a fresh coat of dye to his mustache, puts on a cerulean suit with a seductive plunging neckline from his signature line of suits, adds a pair of matching Stacy Adams wing-tip style shoes, and completes the visual feast by leaving the top three buttons of hi shirt unbuttoned; tastefully exposing his taco meat. Steve then decides that his new look needs a hot introductory song to add a cherry on top of the dashing figure he is cutting. He goes with The Time’s “Giggolos Get Lonely Too”. Steve went back and forth about whether or not to use an Oran Juice Jones track with the same name, but felt that the old heads in the audience would respond better to the heartrending vocals of Morris Day. Steve’s material kills in Memphis. The audience rolls in the aisles.
Kirk Franklin is immediately incensed. Steve attempts to calm Kirk by making the argument that “Giggolos Get Lonely Too” is about the redemptive powers of love, and since God is love the song is about God. “It’s the transitive property baby.” Kirk rebukes Steve any way, and declares that Satan, in the guise of Steve Harvey, is in the fight of his life, and will not destroy this tour. This kind of behavior will not be tolerated. “What you did out there tonight was not Christiany at all.” Steve replies, “ but it was funny. And to a comedian that is all that really matters.”
From then on the two men become flirt with becoming bitter enemies. Steve continues to add raunchiness to his set. The Nashville show feature four unbuttoned buttons, and Shreveport saw him pantomime smacking a booty like a “real mack.” When the last show in Jacksonville comes around Kirk has had enough. He tells Steve that he will kill his mic if he does not come back to the flock. Steve’s response was to come out to the Muddy Waters classic “Hoochie Coochie Man”. Kirk and two members of his entourage storm the stage during Steve’s set waving bibles, which rattles The Original King of Comedy. “They are waving bibles at me like I am some kind of devil. I can’t do a show with this kind of foolishness.” And with that Steve storms off, and takes with him all the hope and potential dynamism that a duo of Steve Harvey and Kirk Franklin could have provided the masses.
“Breast Milk Ice Cream Served at British Parlor”
And I am neither shocked or appalled.
(NewsCore) – Breast milk ice cream was being scooped up by British customers Thursday after a London parlor used milk donated by a UK mom to make the “totally natural” treat.
Victoria Hiley, 35, a mother of one from Leeds in northern England, has already donated a liter of her breast milk to Icecreamists parlor for the dish it calls Baby Gaga, UK website Parentdish reported.
“What’s the harm in using my assets for a bit of extra cash?” said Hiley, who responded to an advert for milk suppliers on another parenting website, Mumsnet. “What could be more natural than fresh, free-range mother’s milk in an ice cream?”
The new parlor, based in London’s trendy Covent Gardendistrict, pays £15 ($24) for every 10 ounces of milk and has already had 15 mothers become donors. Each lactating woman undergoes the same health checks used by the UK’s National Health Service to screen blood donors.
Matt O’Connor, 44, who runs Icecreamists, makes the dish by blending the breast milk with Madagascan vanilla pods and lemon zest.
“No-one’s done anything interesting with ice cream in the last hundred years,” he said. “Some people will hear about it and go, ‘yuck,’ but actually it’s pure, organic, free-range and totally natural.”
In fact I look forward to gambling that my lactose-intolerance will not flair up while I am consuming homemade Pecan and Pralines icecream made from the finest free-range Cambodian breast milk, and being able to exclaim, “Breast milk, you make my day-yay!” This breast milk icecream could easily combine with my go to summer heat beating drink, Passion Tea Lemonade to keep the excessive Southern summer heat at bay in 2011. Please Icecreamists bring your ice cream revolution across the pond, so I might delight some free range mammaration, provided it will not cost me $24 for 10 ounces. That price is highway robbery!
The stats helper monkeys at WordPress.com mulled over how this blog did in 2010, and here’s a high level summary of its overall blog health:
The Blog-Health-o-Meter™ reads Wow.
The average container ship can carry about 4,500 containers. This blog was viewed about 22,000 times in 2010. If each view were a shipping container, your blog would have filled about 5 fully loaded ships.
In 2010, there were 78 new posts, not bad for the first year! There were 47 pictures uploaded, taking up a total of 4mb. That’s about 4 pictures per month.
The busiest day of the year was December 7th with 847 views. The most popular post that day was Shaq Breaks Sweat; Won’t Need Surgery.
Where did they come from?
The top referring sites in 2010 were alphainventions.com, reddit.com, verysmartbrothas.com, twitter.com, and facebook.com.
Some visitors came searching, mostly for pam grier, handjob, aboutsmall.com, ki toy johnson, and pam grier photos.
Attractions in 2010
These are the posts and pages that got the most views in 2010.
Shaq Breaks Sweat; Won’t Need Surgery December 2010
Dark Reign, The List, and Pam Grier May 2010
If That’s Your Boyfriend He Wasn’t Last Night October 2010
No Wedding, No Womb September 2010
Women As Pokemon and Other Things I Have Never Finished Writing June 2010
4 comments and 1 Like on WordPress.com,
Sometimes when men and/or women are confabulating a phrase will fall from the lips that is so memorbable that it comes to dominate your memories of that person. Here is one of those instances. I heard it straight from the harlot’s mouth.
“Damn that is one of dem 1960’s pussy! I ain’t seen one of those since the end of The WAR!”
The war in question was The Vietnam War, and the pussy belonged to a parttime whore who plied her trade on Birmingham, Alabama‘s Lower East Side. She was well known in the hole in the walls and private clubs that dotted 10th Avenue North, and the private houses of disrepute that were common in the East Birmingham neighborhood. The utterer of that phrase was a man known in the community as Big Demp. He was the beau of a proprieter of a local “Shot House”. Demp was a lustful lush who wore his love of tang on his sleeve. One day while at a secret watering hole, the parttime prostitute whom we will call “Freaky K” from now on, showed up intent on earning enough money for her rent. Her attempts to chat up the potential tricks in the room were frustrated by the heated game of Tunk that was being played at the moment. She turned to leave the room and search for customers at another locale, when she was stopped by Big Demp. Demp is reported to have said, ” you seem to be trying to make some money. Let me see that monkey.” ”
Freaky K replied, “you ain’t ready for this old man. You would drown in this.”
“Bull shit. Demp ain’t never been drowned. I am trying to drop some money on you, but I got to know what you are working with.” Demp reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick roll of bills to let Keisha know he was serious.
“I will put a down payment on it.” Demp reached into the bills and pulled out a 50 dollar bill and forced it down her shirt. “There is more where that came from, if you are serious about making this money.”
By now the Tunk players’ attention had been drawn away from their game and onto the haggling of Big Demp and Freaky K, and they began to egg her on by flashing their money. Shouts of “Let us see that pussy”, began to erupt from the drunk men. Bills began to fly into the air as the men started to toss bills Freaky K’s way. Not one to disappoint an audience or leave the opportunity to scoop up the bills that were beginning to accumulate in great number at her feet, K decorously lifted up her skirt and bared her womenhood to the men. The classically hairy bush was a hit, leading Big Demp to exclaim, “Damn that is one of dem 1960’s pussy! I ain’t seen one of those since the war.”
In one motion K scooped up the money, and dragged Demp towards the door. She still had designs on getting as much of his bank roll as possible. Demp and K made their way to her appartment, where Demp immediately dropped his trousers. K went through the motions of getting him ready for fellatio, but at the last moment whipped out a taser. She shocked the man until he lost consciousness. While he was laid out she rummaged through his pockets robbing him blind, she then stripped him completely naked, and gave him a handjob. She made sure not to clean him up.
The next morning Demp awoke covered in his own fluids, a plate of hotcakes and syrup next to him, and no memory of being tased. K looked at him with a mix of scorn and amusement. “You could not hang old man. You got yours, but passed out before you could get mine. I won’t tell nobody that Big Demp couldn’t come with it though. A lady never kisses and tells. Eat your food Demp, and get out of here before your old lady comes looking for you with her that 9 millimeter of hers. We don’t need that trouble.”
Shaqulle O’Neal (pictured below in happier times) broke a sweat last night. The arena gasped when clearly visible droplets of sweat began to set up shop on Shaq’s brow.
It caused him to have to sit out the second half of Boston’s Sunday afternoon victory over The New Jersey Nets. “I just forgot to take my drugs,” said O’Neal. “Without them, I can’t really play right now. But I’ll be fine Wednesday [against the Denver Nuggets].” Shaq’s chronic sweating has long been the bane of his basketball playing existence. His sweat issues combined with Kobe Bryant’s selfish play led to one of the biggest upsets in NBA Finals history when the superstar and barberless Detroit Pistons upset the Los Angeles Lakers in 5 games.
Shaquille O’Neal whose first name means little warrior, displayed a warrior’s spirit by fighting through his injury. Doc Rivers could not help but to praise his effort. “Shaq was great,” coach Doc Rivers said. “He told me before the game that he probably wouldn’t go, but we didn’t have enough players. And he said, ‘If you just play me three and four minutes in a row, see how long I can go through halftime.’’
As of this writing Shaquille will not have to undergo the knife. MRI’s came back negative. Mr. O’Neal is playing it safe though, and plans to pay a visit to Dr. James Andrews on one of the Celtics’ upcoming off days.
I was derelict in my blogging duties in October. The tenth month of the year pulls triple duty. In addition to being the month that contains what many believe is the birthday of the homie Satan, it is also Domestic Violence AND Breast Cancer Awareness Month. My anger and disgust over The NFL’s disastrous incorporation of pink into some uniforms in observance of Breast Cancer Awareness Month caused a cooling of relations between me and my oldest friends; The Tittays of The World.
A simple classy ribbon logo to show solidarity with breasts should have been enough. My disappointment with The Shield for its fashion faux pas has subsided, and my love for breasts in all of their shapes and sizes have returned. All of them are beautiful, but not all of them are of equal importance. No breasts are of more historical, environmental, economic, and cultural importance as the funbags that belong to Aretha Franklin.
Aretha’s Breasts are real, and they are spectacular.
Aretha’s Breasts work in concert with The Moon to regulate the tides of the ocean.
Did you know Aretha’s breasts are the reason that Scralett O’Harra never went hungry again?
NASA satellites broadcast the sound that Aretha’s heaving bosom makes when she walks into the far reaches of space in an effort to entice intelligent life into communicating with us puny Earthlings.
Aretha’s boobs are officially a sovereign nation, and have signed The Kyoto Protocols, but do not recognize The Geneva Conventions.
The citizens of Arethasbreastistan live in a Socialist Utopia that is the most technologically advanced nation on the planet. The citizens practice a religion based around a Breast Spirit. The Marvel Universe nation of Wakanda is loosely based on it.
Those are a few facts about Aretha’s lovely lady lumps that you may have been unfamiliar with.