BlackPeopleWorryAboutTheDumbestShit.com

"Lawd, please! Give me the strength to save these precious white people!"

For over a year, I had been having this crazy dream where white people decide to pack up and leave earth in rocket ships. I’m not totally sure why they were leaving or where they were going, but black people weren’t invited and started crying like babies when the white people left. Anyway – to make a long story short, all of the ships exploded. My condolences.

Every time I wake up from that dream, I’m always a little disturbed that black people would’ve rather lived on some Jetsons plantation than risk removing the white man’s dick from their asses. But more than that, I always find it amusing that black people were presumed screwed, yet were alright the whole time. Black people tried everything in their power to take on another man’s destiny and ended up being forced into their own – which wasn’t so bad. Go figure.

Recently, I purchased a [movie ticket] and decided to watch 2012. Joining movies like Avatar, Hancock and The Matrix, 2012 is conspicuously black, yet white enough for white people to actually go see it. Any time I’m exposed this combination of elements in a major Hollywood picture, I immediately turn on my White Bullshit Detector and get into Tin-Foil Hat Mode. 2012 definitely didn’t disappoint.

Read the rest of this entry →

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It’d take these dudes all of two seconds to correct their issue.

Now, with that out of the way – whose bitch are you?

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1. He broke up with you before heading off to Morehouse: If there’s one thing a nigga at Morehouse doesn’t need, it’s less access to some girls. Some years back, I had the opportunity to visit their chick-less campus and they gave me the whole stick-up-the-ass (no pun intended) “Morehouse Man”/“Future Black Leader” script to try & impress me. To make a long story short, I took my black ass to another school – and stayed in a co-ed dorm, on a co-ed floor. I ain’t got time for the bullshit.

Going to Morehouse is like going to a movie theatre that doesn’t sell popcorn: deep down you know what your number one priority should be, but it still doesn’t change the fact that you’d rather be somewhere else.

But anyway – if your guy recently got into Morehouse and broke up with you, I’m sure it must be a tough time for you right now. You’re probably confused. But try to recall the events leading up to the breakup. For example, has he ever suggested that Spelman be torn down and turned into a parking lot? Did he ever brag about how his dorm room is so nice that he’ll never have to leave campus? If so, you might want to charge that nigga to the game.

______

2. He’s always talking about how “freaky” he is: Exhibit A: Sexy Spec from Pretty Ricky (under no heterosexual circumstances should a man be this agile, that low to the ground).

These types of niggas always let the cat out of the bag, eventually. You might think humping chairs is cool now; but one day, you’re gonna come home early from work and see just how “freaky” he really is. Don’t say I never warned you.

______

3. He enjoys Madea movies: If I’m not mistaken, there’s a Madea movie in theatres right now. And luckily for you, I’ve designed a highly-scientific experiment involving these movies to help you get to the bottom of whether or not your man does, in fact, like sausage.

As a beginning step, I want you to suggest that the two of you go see this movie. Listen closely for his response. If his words do not resemble any of the following:

• “Fuck”
• “Fuck my life”
• “Fuck this shit”
• “This some bullshit”
• “Shit”
• “Damn”
• “I think we should see other people”

…then he’s suspect.

But don’t count him out yet. The real test comes once inside the theatre.

If, upon viewing at least 10 minutes of the movie, he’s not (1.) sleeping, or (2.) sporting a weathered, confused look, like he just went 12 rounds with a prime Mike Tyson – then yeah, you might wanna make sure you’re not missing any panties once y’all get home. Read the rest of this entry →

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Massa Clintonosis \mas-ha\ \ˈklint-oh-no-sus\ A psychotic condition that afflicts black Americans invested in a plantation system not invested in them. It is often characterized by an irrational loyalty and affection for Bill and Hillary Clinton who symbolize the mythical “good Master and Missus.”

Credit: Denmark Vesey

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When talking about the alleged death of hip hop, conventional wisdom would call for me to throw shade on the Soulja Boys and Gucci Manes of the world. As with many other issues in the black community, it’s treated as unfathomable that the present could have any sort of connection to the past. In fact, egged on by whites, many of us act as though we’re reaching some sort of enlightened state by ignoring the past. This type of arrogant ignorance is largely the reason why we keep falling for the same things over and over again. It’s also the reason why hip hop, to many, is unbearable these days.

I find it disturbing that when discussing the history of hip hop, many black intellectuals and experts can seem to identify every shift in the culture except the fact that hip hop essentially went from having black youth as its gatekeepers to a bunch of old ass white men. Actually, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say they were ignoring this on purpose.

Recalling an episode of the Viacom-sponsored nigger-quarrel formally known as Hip Hop vs. America (BET), I remember rapper David Banner trying to start a discussion on this issue. The result? He was cut off by host and fellow rapper MC Lyte, who shall be referred to as “Mammy Lyte” for the remainder of this post. Sadly, in spite of being in the rap game for God knows how many years, Mammy pretended as though she had no idea what Banner was talking about. And her cluelessness was so contrived; almost as though she had been instructed. Banner was spot-on, though. Over the years, black people had lost a major degree of control over hip hop. To figure out why, we need to backtrack.

In 1979, Kurtis Blow became the first rapper to sign a contract with a major recording company. For this feat, he’s widely considered a pioneer. As a result of Blow’s ensuing success, hip hop – which was once considered a fad – was able to prove itself as a viable industry. In a nutshell, Kurtis Blow can be largely credited with taking the culture from the street corner to the mainstream.

“Well, what’s wrong with that?” Read the rest of this entry →

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Gabrielle Union Syndrome \ga-brē-el\ \ˈyün-yən\ \ˈsin-ˌdrōm A mental condition common among single black women with college experience; typically brought on by the release of the latest “Professional Black Woman Who Can’t Find a Man” movie. Symptoms include megalomania, purchasing Idris Elba calendars, inability to define oneself outside of school or work, incessant complaining about uneducated black men, and falling under the impression that men give a shit about a woman’s degree(s). Severe cases may also cause victims to believe that Tyler Perry is a quality filmmaker.

Funky disposition and can’t even make a good thing of Kool Aid. But hey, at least she sat in a desk for four years…

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White girl is tryna fuck up our mission and Tyrese ain’t having it. We remember what you did to Kobe.

Because Jewish (read: white) people are more human than black people, tales derived from their holocaust have no expiration date. Realizing this, director Quentin Tarantino decided to bless the world with his latest film Inglourious Basterds. Due to my not giving a shit, I haven’t gotten around to visiting Hood Blockbuster and purchasing a [movie ticket] yet. However, that might soon change due to the rave reviews I’ve been reading. As I write this, IMDb even has it ranked as the 35^th best movie of all time. Apparently it’s a WWII revenge flick about some Jewish dudes who go around killing Nazis for fun. Since Jewish people run the media and have put incalculable resources into making the Nazi Party the undisputed devils of history, this is supposed to be funny. You know, because they deserve it.

Now, when I was about 7 years old I swore that when I got filthy rich my first niggerish purchase would be an American Gladiators course in my basement. Scratch that. Thanks to the good folks over at Fiyastarter.com and their review of this movie, I have a new purpose in life. This is what they hit me with:

 

You have to wonder if Spike ever makes a slavery revenge fantasy flick, and Tyrese, Omar Epps and Mekhi are beating the shit outta slave owners in a humorous fashion, would critics and audiences be laughing at the bad guys getting what they deserved? Actually, you don’t have to wonder. They wouldn’t. That answers that.

I don’t think y’all understand what those words did to me. I feel like Michael Jordan after the first time he touched a basketball; like a freshman white girl who just moved into college and met some black guys. Nigga, I got work to do.

Starting today, I am officially on a mission to put out a black equivalent of Inglourious Basterds. I’ve even started getting my ideas together. Check this out:

John Amos, Fred Williamson and Jim Brown are time travelers (no, wait. Don’t “X” out). For the past 10 years they’ve been going back in time and altering events to change the course of black history. For example, they travel to the 1930s, scoop up a young Ronald Reagan and drop him off in the dinosaur era wearing a jumpsuit made out of steak. They can also be credited with traveling to 1992 and breaking Bill Clinton’s saxophone before he could play it on Arsenio and convince dumb ass black people to start calling him black. Needless to say, these niggas were gettin’ it in.

Unfortunately, they’re getting old and don’t have the juice left to embark on their biggest mission yet: getting revenge for slavery. Because of this, they’re looking to recruit a team of new niggas to take over in their absence. Enter Mehki Phifer, Omar Epps, Tyrese and myself (I’m sorry, but I’ll be damned if I don’t star in this masterpiece). Oh, and we have superpowers that make us completely indestructible, by the way.

Dressed in the finest 18^th century fashions, we travel to 1782 and take a road trip across America in a golden carriage driven by Scarlett Johansson (see, we’re not racist). Then we wait on salty broke white dudes to come outside of their houses and try us. Needless to say, they get absolutely fucked up. Repeat this for about two hours and you have the gist of the movie. There’s also a scene where we c-walk through the middle of a lynch mob. That type of stuff is funny to us.

So yeah, if any Hollywood types are reading this, feel free to contact me with your interest.

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Anybody who can keep a straight face with that shit on his head is cool with me. Happy birthday.

“Any effort to relieve the Negro, make him manly and independent, was always opposed by this man. Can the American Negro, therefore, take DuBois seriously? He tells us in his article that ‘three quarters of us are disenfranchised, yet no writer on domestic reform, no third party movement says a word about Negroes.’ This statement shows that DuBois’ only expectation of help for the Negro must come from white public opinion and not from Negroes themselves. He is catering for white democratic reforms and some third white Political Party to do the job for the Negro which the Negro should do for himself. DuBois is purely and simply a white man’s nigger. He has no racial self respect, he has no independent ideas, he has nothing of self-reliance about him and that is his great trouble. He thinks that the Negro can not succeed except he is patronized by the white man, and so his National Association for the Advancement of Coloured People was made up of white executives, his Crisis was subsidized by white philanthropists, and so the opinion of the National Association for the Advancement of Coloured People and the Crisis were of the nature to satisfy the white executives and philanthropists.” -Marcus Garvey on W.E.B. Du Bois

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