Monday, February 16, 2009
The biggest beef I've seen thus far
I always enjoy a nice entertaining public dispute between two rappers, particularly if the dispute is over something as stupid as who is more real, or to borrow some of the industry lingo, who keeps it more trill. I especially love it when the conflict over whose superior realness arises because one of the parties' feelings were hurt. Somehow exactly such an argument arose between one Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson and William Leonard "Rick Ross" Roberts II, and over the past week, it has gotten completely out of control. My boyfriend Curtis may have finally met his match in petty public multimedia squabbling.
Apparently, Rick Ross took a break from being the biggest boss that we've seen thus far to feeling sad about getting snubbed socially by Fitty when they crossed paths at the BET awards. Fitty didn't say hi or something, and this hurt Rick Ross's feelings. So instead of just getting over it because it's really not that big of a deal, Rick vented his frustrations about his wounded self-esteem via a diss track titled "Mafia Music," in which he suggested that 50 Cent burnt down his baby mama's house because he's a "jealous, stupid motherfucker." This comment did not go over well with 50.
Not one to back down from an argument, 50 responded with a song of his own entitled "Officer Ricky," reminding everyone that Rick Ross is actually a former Florida state corrections officer rather than some kind of criminal overlord trafficking huge quantities of cocaine in and out of Miami. Rick Ross was unimpressed by Fitty's work and gave him 24 hours to come up with something better. So Fitty went to Florida family court records and tracked down Tia Kemp, the mother of one of Rick Ross's children, who is currently embroiled in a bitter paternity/child support suit against him. After declaring on his website thisis50.com that he plans to "fuck up (Rick Ross's) life," took her shopping for fur coats in New York. In the course of their shopping spree/filming a video entitled "Curtis and Tia Go to the Furrier", Tia advised my man Curtis that Rick Ross is not exactly financially as established as he boasts in his songs. According to her, his jewelry is rented, his cars are leased, and he only makes $200,000 a year. I'm a little suspicious of Tia's story, though, because really...where do you rent jewelry like this?
Gigantic chains that feature either "RR" or "Carol City Cartel" spelled out in diamonds, or a yellow diamond portrait of Rick Ross seem like pretty personalized products. I can't imagine that Jacob the Jeweler just keeps a stash of those in case Rick Ross (or possibly Suge Knight) needs to rent one for a special occasion. In any event, true or not, Tia's writing a book about how poor and law-abiding Rick Ross allegedly is outside of his musical boasting, and plans to release it the same day as Rick's new album Deeper Than Rap. This inspired a rebuttal from the goddamn boss.
Rick Ross called up Miss Info to rant about how he was just glad his baby mama was making money, and adds that 50 Cent was a "parody of hip-hop." He also added that his Floridian friends down South don't take him seriously, and refer to him as "Curly" on account of his frequent antics. He tried to get the "Curly" sobriquet to take off by then releasing a song called "Kiss my Pinky Ring, Curly." Then he put out a video of him pouring out Formula 50 Vitamin Water, in a presumed tribute to a dead homie/implied threat of deadly retaliation for Fitty's myriad insults. Then he went back on the radio to say that 50's talent or lack thereof is actually resulting in the depreciation of Dr. Dre's music, and repeatedly refer to 50 Cent as a monkey. "I don't get sidelined with monkey talk," Rick Ross explained. At this point, Inga "Foxy Brown" Marchand took issue with an oblique reference Fitty made to her brief affair with Rick Ross ("the cop fucked a fox") and demanded he retract his insult lest she handle him "Brooklyn style." Since 50 isn't going to be working on Foxy's nails anytime soon, he's probably safe for now, but I wouldn't be surprised if there's a cell phone-throwing or bitch-slapping incident in the near future.
Meanwhile, 50 Cent was busy going on every radio show possible to insult Rick Ross's financial situation and general trilla status. In addition to tracking down Rick Ross's baby mama, he managed to track down fellow Carol City Cartel member DJ Khaled's actual mother and film her at work apparently sleeping on the job.
Rick Ross called up Miss Info to rant about how he was just glad his baby mama was making money, and adds that 50 Cent was a "parody of hip-hop." He also added that his Floridian friends down South don't take him seriously, and refer to him as "Curly" on account of his frequent antics. He tried to get the "Curly" sobriquet to take off by then releasing a song called "Kiss my Pinky Ring, Curly." Then he put out a video of him pouring out Formula 50 Vitamin Water, in a presumed tribute to a dead homie/implied threat of deadly retaliation for Fitty's myriad insults. Then he went back on the radio to say that 50's talent or lack thereof is actually resulting in the depreciation of Dr. Dre's music, and repeatedly refer to 50 Cent as a monkey. "I don't get sidelined with monkey talk," Rick Ross explained. At this point, Inga "Foxy Brown" Marchand took issue with an oblique reference Fitty made to her brief affair with Rick Ross ("the cop fucked a fox") and demanded he retract his insult lest she handle him "Brooklyn style." Since 50 isn't going to be working on Foxy's nails anytime soon, he's probably safe for now, but I wouldn't be surprised if there's a cell phone-throwing or bitch-slapping incident in the near future.
Meanwhile, 50 Cent was busy going on every radio show possible to insult Rick Ross's financial situation and general trilla status. In addition to tracking down Rick Ross's baby mama, he managed to track down fellow Carol City Cartel member DJ Khaled's actual mother and film her at work apparently sleeping on the job.
I was more puzzled by the fact that DJ Khaled's mom appears to work as...an inventory clerk at the Men's Wearhouse? I can't think of any other reason why she is in a room full of men's jackets sleeping at her computer. And why does she look like she's dressed like there's a blizzard outside. Doesn't she live in Miami? I wish Fitty would have explained some of this, but unfortunately he did not because he apparently had second thoughts about this approach and removed it from his website after a day. Some people agreed this was below-the-belt since DJ Khaled's mom has nothing to do with any of this and has not committed any transgressions besides sleeping on the job and giving birth to DJ Khaled, thus cursing us all with his annoying trademark "WE THE BEST!" proclamations at the beginning and end of every song he appears on.
Rick Ross responded with a video blog of his own implying that the members of the G-g-g-g Unit are g-g-g-gay and that 50 Cent takes steroids. The best part of the video is when 50 is depicted showering with Lloyd Banks and Tony Yayo with no penis, and a disclaimer pops up that informs the viewer, "This ain't a joke–steroids make ya junk smaller!" He also continued his simian-themed retorts, by noting that he is not frightened of Fitty's empty threats because he's "understanding the monkey," and started a website entitled thisiscurly.com where pictures of 50's son Marquise's head were photoshopped onto a monkey's body. Unfortunately, this coincided with the Smoking Gun releasing court transcripts in which Rick Ross's lawyer and a Miami Beach police officer who agreed that he had no gang affiliation or notable criminal reputation whatsoever.
Fitty has since put out a song entitled "Pimpin' Curly," and continues the absurd bloggery/vloggery. Currently on thisis50.com you can go watch a cartoon entitled "Officer Ricky: Everybody Hates Chris," which features Rick Ross arresting Chris Brown, followed by a bizarre sequence in which DJ Khaled accidentally ends up in Afghanistan and is blown up by Osama Bin Laden, and that is where this beef stands as of today. I'm sure Rick Ross is putting together another song and/or homemade cartoon criticizing 50. Personally, if I were him, I'd dig Jeffrey "Ja Rule" Atkins out of whatever obscurity he's wallowing in and get that classic beef going again. Either that, or he could flex his current event muscles and rip on the fact that currently 50 Cent is in the Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela celebrating Hugo Chavez's recent election to dictator-for-life. I've never heard anyone involved in a rap beef imply that an adversary is a socialist who consorts with autocratic tyrants, and I think it's high time for such politically-themed hatery.
I also would like to suggest to 50 that he put his photoshop skills to good use with this magazine cover, which may be one of the most nauseating images I have ever seen. Whatever might be going on with Fitty allegedly taking steroids to bolster his muscled physique, I think it's safe to say that nobody suspects Rick Ross is doing the same thing. It's an honor for a rapper to appear on the cover of XXL magazine, but it seems less boastworthy when the title of the magazine also describes the size of the shirt said rapper so unfortunately discarded prior to the shoot.
Shudder. I don't see why Flo Rida couldn't have been the one to be sans shirt for this cover. Jesus, even the normally portly DJ Khaled looks well-built in comparison. I can only imagine the kind of fun 50 Cent could have with this. It would go well as the latest chapter in this whole ridiculous saga. Have at it, fellas! For the sake of my entertainment, I hope they never squash it.
Labels: 50 cent, Dirrty Dirrty, hilarious shit, rap, ridiculous absurdity
Sunday, November 30, 2008
50 Cent and Lil Wayne's Thanksgiving wishes
I decided to check my RAZZY.org email for the first time in like three weeks, and was pleased to see Thanksgiving wishes from Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson, Christopher "Lloyd Banks" Lloyd, Marvin "Tony Yayo" Bernard, and the rest of the staff at thisis50.com, the official 50 Cent internets page of which I am a registered member. I signed up for thisis50.com so I could read the message boards, which one Razzyphile directed me to, describing them as "hilarious." The message boards involve a lot of arguing about whether or not The Game is a pussy, the sexually attractive aspects of various women, and whose mama has fellated who. Some folks in the forums also address larger issues such as the apocalypse ("the end of dayz...is it real?", "WAT IF JESUS WAS TO COME BACK RITE NOW...AND MURDERED ALL DESE RAPPERS???LYRICALLY!!!"), women's rights in the workplace ("WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT A CHICK THAT PUTS THAT WORK IN HARD LIKE A NIGGA?"), coastal educational and cultural disparities ("to all hataz of east coast rap pleaze and i mean pleaze go to school and complete it so u niggas can up grade yo mind. exspecailly some douth south catz im not sayn the south is wack") and current style trends in the world of urban fashion ("Why nigga's feel da need to wear tight shit?"). I am sure that all the G-g-g-g-unit's fans, despite their diverse interests and opinions, took a break from the debates raging on the thisis50.com forums to feel touched by Fitty's tender Thanksgiving greetings.
Well, it seems that warm Thanksgiving thoughts weren't shared by Curtis's colleagues to the south. New Orleanian Dwayne "Lil' Wayne" Carter got together with his friend from Baton Rouge Torrence "Lil' Boosie" Hatch to perpetrate some mixtape hatery, which I immediately downloaded. I was surprised to hear the title track, "Louisianimal," was a diss on a gentleman the Lil's disparagingly refer to as "Two Quarters." On the basis of being "Lousianimals" these gentlemen proceed to unleash a barrage of promised thuggery. Lil' Wayne threatens to pour syrup in 50 Cent's signature grape-flavored "Formula 50" Vitamin Water, and threatens to sit around watching SportsCenter because his heart is even colder than his ice. He also insinuates he might just require the tattooing of yet another disingenuous teardrop representing yet another pretend murder victim, and promises to bisect 50 Cent, if he can ever get off his ass to demonstrate his more beastly Louisianimalian qualities.
I have no idea what 50 did to garner Weezy F Baby's ire, except maybe that he is helping his erstwhile collaborator Jeffrey "Ja Rule" Atkins perpetrate his infamous feud with my man Curtis. After all, in 2007 Tha Carter and Ja were both arrested on his-and-his gun charges after a concert in New York. Perhaps they vowed to fight each other's battles as they shared a cell at the Tombs. I don't really know what Lil' Wayne plans to do besides sit around drinking promethazine cough syrup to demonstrate his commitment to the wholesale destruction of 50 Cent. Certainly he's not doing anything with all those snakes and tarantulas and voodoo-ish whatnot on the mixtape artwork, unless Lil' Wayne defines voodoo as getting really, really, REALLY high and making a cameo in a LeBron James Nike commercial.
At least the 50 Cent apologists aren't letting this slide. When someone had the audacity to suggest that Lil' Wayne is talented and here to make fake beef with Fitty for years to come, a poster identified as G-Roc was quick to unleash his staunchly pro-Two Quarters opinion on the "undeducated" music lovers apparently fellating Lil' Wayne:
At least the 50 Cent apologists aren't letting this slide. When someone had the audacity to suggest that Lil' Wayne is talented and here to make fake beef with Fitty for years to come, a poster identified as G-Roc was quick to unleash his staunchly pro-Two Quarters opinion on the "undeducated" music lovers apparently fellating Lil' Wayne:
nigga shut ya bob marley bitch ass,lil wayne dick suckin ass up nigga, how many times i gotta tell ya bitch ass u a dick ridin mop head fuck, tight jeans wearin female ass nigga. how wayne dick taste nigga u suck dat shit too much fag, u dont da only nigga who dont know shit about hiphop dats why u comin in hear not knowing wat da fuck is goin in undeducated motherfucka, if u anit get no invatation i advise ur pussy mop head ass not to come in here bitch
I really hope that 50 Cent stops preparing holiday wishes for his website users and jumps into this himself, because I know he can do better than repeatedly calling Lil' Wayne and his fans "mop heads." 50 Cent and Lil' Wayne are two of my favorite rappers of all time, and nothing would give me greater pleasure than them releasing dueling diss tracks for the next five years. I can only imagine the aspersions Lil' Wayne will cast on 50's sexuality, and the insightful remarks about Lil' Wayne's tendency to make out and pose for homoerotic XXL covers with his adopted father Brian "Baby/Birdman" Williams, dressing in drag for album covers, and power bottom condom ads Fitty will make in return. At the very least, they can rag on each other's mugshots. Let the good time diss tracks roll.
Labels: 50 cent, celebrities, intentional buffoonery, Lil' Wayne, rap, vulgar display of faggotry
Thursday, March 06, 2008
R. Beast
Loyal Razzyphile Big Rump just e-mailed me to advise me of all sorts of useful information. For starters, did you know that my boyfriend Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson is running a CELEBRITY GOSSIP BLOG? It's true...it has articles about Lil' Kim having lesbian sex and shamelessly promotes some kind of diss video 50 Cent made about Fat Joe called "Elephant in the Sand" (*snicker*). If anyone was born to bust on celebrities for totally arbitrary and capricious reasons, it's my man Curtis. This is following up on another hilarious video Big Rump passed along, in which Fitty responds to a Fat Joe dissing him on Power105 ("don't mess up my teeth...I just got these, man!"). Needless to say, Big Rump went sailing on the internets and returned with a ship laden with the Razzy equivalent of silk, spices, and indigo.
Anyway, the best thing Big Rump passed along, however, has to be this link to a little song called "I'm a Beast" that a certain King/Pied Piper/R-uh of R&B has chosen to bless the music listening public with.
YES! A fresh Kells jam to tide me over until TP Fourth Quarter drops later this year! Supposedly this song is about Kells's feud with Ne-Yo. In the interest of informing those who aren't pathologically obsessed with R. Kelly like I am about the background of this beef, let me briefly reiterate what has transpired thus far. Ne-Yo was supposed to open for Kells on his (mindblowingly awesome) Double Up tour. Ne-Yo apparently wanted more money or was unhappy with his contract or something, so he left the tour before it barely got started. Instead of just moving on with his life, Ne-Yo decided to get some press for something besides being R&B's most obvious closet homo next to Usher by suing R. Kelly for firing him out of jealousy over Ne-Yo's talent. This is worthy of some audible laughter, since the man who has penned lines like "up in my room, you screamin, 'Hercules! Hercules!'", "gonna go down on my knees and ax that ass to marry me," and "the next time your ass gets horny, go fuck one of your funky-ass friends...hell, you're probably already doing that shit anyway" is hardly bothered by a twink singing about how sexy his she-male life partner looks when (s)he's mad. Fag, please.
Anyway, Ne-Yo should be shaking in his boots, because Kells did not decide to handle this one in court. R. Kelly has bigger fish (ie: four felony child pornography counts) to fry in the legal department, so rather than distract any of his attorneys with Ne-Yo's bullshit lawsuit, he decided to deal with this himself, and on his terms. Specifically, he hit the Chocolate Factory and laid down this track, or in his words, "call the hits my lawyer cause they got me out on bail." Big Rump characterized this as "garbage," but I must disagree, unless by "garbage" he means "UNADULTERATED GENIUS." Go listen to it now, or if you are too lazy to do so, here's the lyrics:
Ayyyyy-ayyyyyy-ayyyyyAh-ah-ah-ah-ah(CHORUS)So get it understood, boyI'm from the hood, boyCame up from the dirtSelf-made hustlaI'm a beastI'm a beast(Rapping--verse 1)I'm surrounded by these devil mouths all talkin about KellsSome say I came from heaven but I rose up from hellAnd ever since I rose up success has been my saleSo call the hits my lawyer cause they got me out on bailNever been a snitch, boyNever been a bitch, boyWhy I gotta hate on you?Look at me, I'm rich, boy!You need a steering wheel, the way you ride my dick, boy!You say you's a go getta, go get your own shit, boy!What is it gonna take for you motherfuckers to understand I'm the R&B boss?Kells think he'll ride--nah, bitch, I'm just tryin' to get my point across.Niggas hatin' on niggas, man y'all know you keep up shit!That's why when it comes to these hits, I'm-a keep up shit!Keep risin to the top, keep getting that moneyKeep laughin' at you clowns, 'cause you clowns is funny!I been grindin' for 17 years, tryin' to keep the peaceBut now, you motherfuckers done brought out the BEAST!(CHORUS 2X)(Rapping--verse 2)When I was young, all my dreams seemed so farComin' up was so hardNow I'm a rock star cause all I do is rock broads.I stays on fire, just look at the hot cars.You need a hit from Kells, alright, my nigga, no prob.I'm clean but I'm dirtI'm good but I'm the worstI'm last and I'm the firstI'm blessed and I'm cursedBut my career is soaring while my life is a hot messBut the depth of my struggle determines the height of my successI BELIEVE THATWhatever billion dollars--tryin' to see thatWhatever billion--I'm-a be still axin' "where the weed at?"Hit lots of clubs, take lots of shots of PatronHold my middle finger up, tell haters to get the fuck onStay shinin', boyStay grindin', boyKeep these fine-ass bitches straight eyein' it, boy!Now where you gonna hear a better nameThan 17 years in the game?Still continuing to make it rainAnd put these fools to shame...I'm a BEAST!(CHORUS 2X)(Conversational interlude)Wait a minute, wait a minute, where you goin?You ain't goin' no-motherfuckin'-where, I got more to say, bitch! Look at me.(Rapping--verse 3)Y'all smile in my face and talk shit in back of meI got the ball, I'm tryin' to shoot but y'all niggas keep hackin' me!Could it be that I'm a king 'cause R&B been good to me?Or could it be that you's a lame that hate the game and can't be me!I used to rep the Chi, but now I know my worthI still rep the Chi, but Earth is my turf, nigga!I been around the world,Thrown bitches round the world,Heard rumors round the world,Still I'm touring round the world!Talk about me on your records to make your sales better,Play it backwards, it'll probably say "Kells is as cold as ever."So don't think this is a songIt's a taste of my wrathBack to you, nervous nigga,I got a dick and a half!(CHORUS 2X)(Conversational fade)Ha ha, I got your ass!I would call out some motherfuckin names,But there's so many of you motherfuckers hate me,The song ain't motherfuckin long enough, bitch ass niggas.Fade that shit...Maybe on the remix, nigga, I'll call your name out.You gotta stay tuned for that shit, I'm trying to sell records.Bitch, I'm a businessman.
While this may not be the greatest contribution to Kells's brilliant repertoire of mackadelic nightspot realness, I have no doubt that Robert Sylvester Kelly, self-made hustla reppin' the Chi, indeed has a dick and a half. He is, after all, a mountain, a tall tree, a swift wind sweeping the country, a river down in the valley, a vision that sees clearly, that star up in the sky, a mountain peak on high, that little bit of hope when your back's against the ropes, a giant, an eagle, a lion down in the jungle, a marching band, the people, a helping hand, a hero, a light at the end of the tunnel, and a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow...in other words, the World's Greatest! And really, he's always hearing a bunch of old bullshit like "Robert, you did this, Kells, I heard you did that," so it's high time he gave the haters a heaping helping of his ire.
Oh, and as for the names he didn't call? Well, I can think of a few off the top of my head, so you don't even have to stay tuned for the remix (which might be a wait, since per his own admission, he "usually doesn't do this (remixes)". Apart from the obvious Ne-Yo, Kells has issues with 50 Cent (who once infamously sang "there ain't nothin' wrong with pissin' on little girls" to the tune of "Bump 'n' Grind" and included the lyric "I'm pissin' on grown women, R. Kelly do it to children" on his latest album Curtis), Jay-Z (who precipitated the collapse of their Unfinished Business tour when his bodyguard maced Kells backstage at Madison Square Garden), Cam'ron (due to some sort of unauthorized remix-making), former publicist Regina Daniels (who quit and talked trash to the press when Kells boned her PERFECTLY LEGAL 20-year old daughter), and Assistant State's Attorney Shauna Boliker (the prosecutor in his impending child porn trial). Although he has a natural inclination to ball rather than hate, I can't blame him for giving these assholes their due. You go, Beast! Hold that middle finger up and tell the haters to get the fuck on!
Labels: 50 cent, correspondence, hot dudes, I LOVE IT, Razzyphiles, Robert Sylvester Kelly, vulgar display of faggotry
Monday, November 26, 2007
50 speaks the international language
People (ie: J-Sexy) often wonder why I like my boyfriend Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson so much. He's a ridiculous, unreasonable, combative, violent, skeezy, bullet-riddled, possibly gay criminal, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I love his problem attitude, and the fact that he doesn't seem to take himself very seriously, but just says whatever the fuck he wants. I get the feeling that Fitty knows how funny most of the shit he spouts off with a poker face sounds, and as he admits in his song, is laughing straight to the bank about it. The latest news story about him is a case in point.
Being the consummate businessman, Fitty has decided to expand into new markets, and thus spent his Thanksgiving performing for an audience of rabid G-g-g-g-Unit fans in Mumbai, India. To promote this show, Curtis gave an interview to a website called desihits.com. The interviewer decided to teach Fitty a few things about Indian culture. After teaching him some Bhangra dances and offering him some delicacies from the local dessert cart, he decided to give him some tips on how to sweet talk the ladies. Specifically, he attempted to instruct him on how to say "beautiful girl" in Hindi. Apparently sick of language and culture lessons, Curtis stood up, unzipped his fly (causing hilarity to ensue in the form of the interviewer cowering in terror behind his shirt), and responded, "Everyone in the world knows sign language."
Ah, indeed. Everyone understands "suck my cock, ho" in international sign language. Fitty claims that his experience bears this out. "I am looking forward to coming to India. Every country I have been to, even if I don't speak the language, people know what I mean when I do this."
What I can't believe is that Fitty wasn't arrested and hauled off by India's morality police. Richard Gere and Shilpa Shetty earned arrest warrants for a tame peck on the cheek at an AIDS rally in India, so I find it hard to believe that when Fitty went to whip out his pecker there weren't some incensed conservatives demanding justice. It just reiterates Curtis Jackson's inherent invincibility. He can get shot nine times and offend the sexually conservative sensibilities of certain factions of Indian society, and still make $400 million hawking Vitamin Water and banging hot Bollywood actresses. God, I love my boyfriend.
And if you want to see about 45 seconds worth of hilarity, watch the video promoting 50's interview with D-d-d-d-desihits.com. Watch 50 Bhangra dance! Find out which Bollywood babe he thinks is hot! Watch 50 eat Indian desserts! Watch 50 speak Hindi! See 50 wearing an Indian cricket top! And reveal what lies beneath...
Those are desihits.com's words, not mine. But it's awesome, all the same. Enjoy:
Being the consummate businessman, Fitty has decided to expand into new markets, and thus spent his Thanksgiving performing for an audience of rabid G-g-g-g-Unit fans in Mumbai, India. To promote this show, Curtis gave an interview to a website called desihits.com. The interviewer decided to teach Fitty a few things about Indian culture. After teaching him some Bhangra dances and offering him some delicacies from the local dessert cart, he decided to give him some tips on how to sweet talk the ladies. Specifically, he attempted to instruct him on how to say "beautiful girl" in Hindi. Apparently sick of language and culture lessons, Curtis stood up, unzipped his fly (causing hilarity to ensue in the form of the interviewer cowering in terror behind his shirt), and responded, "Everyone in the world knows sign language."
What I can't believe is that Fitty wasn't arrested and hauled off by India's morality police. Richard Gere and Shilpa Shetty earned arrest warrants for a tame peck on the cheek at an AIDS rally in India, so I find it hard to believe that when Fitty went to whip out his pecker there weren't some incensed conservatives demanding justice. It just reiterates Curtis Jackson's inherent invincibility. He can get shot nine times and offend the sexually conservative sensibilities of certain factions of Indian society, and still make $400 million hawking Vitamin Water and banging hot Bollywood actresses. God, I love my boyfriend.
And if you want to see about 45 seconds worth of hilarity, watch the video promoting 50's interview with D-d-d-d-desihits.com. Watch 50 Bhangra dance! Find out which Bollywood babe he thinks is hot! Watch 50 eat Indian desserts! Watch 50 speak Hindi! See 50 wearing an Indian cricket top! And reveal what lies beneath...
Those are desihits.com's words, not mine. But it's awesome, all the same. Enjoy:
Labels: 50 cent, boyfriends, hot dudes, I LOVE IT, international intrigue, overcompensation, weiners
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Merry 9/11, y'all!
So today I am sorry to say I don't have time to do a "Daily Dude I Want to Hit" or "Daily Douchebag" today as I'm busting out a poster full of rhinovirology hotness for my department's retreat. J-Sexy's is so cute, complete with a catchy title ("Interfering with Interferon") and her trademark "polio-o's" (replacing the letter "o" in her title with little polio virions). Since she set the bar high for eleventh hour virology hotness, I've got to produce something equally aesthetically pleasing for the crowd of discriminating microbiology nerds to praise.
In addition to the science business, I was distracted this morning by all those depressing 9/11 memorials on TV. That shit is live from Ground Zero every year, and while I obviously understand the importance of having a 9/11 memorial service, why does it have to be on every single fucking channel? It is a lousy way to start the morning listening to a choked-up NYFD captain rattling off the names of all his dead friends, and I wish there was ONE channel that would pay attention to other important news. I think it would provide hope to us all to hear some GOOD news on 9/11 for a change. For example, the news that 50 Cent's album Curtis dropped today and it is AWESOME.
As usual, 50 Cent is the master of the diss and the unintentionally hilarious lyrics about his prowess in the bedroom (if the song "Peep Show" wasn't titled that, I would have thought Fitty and Eminem were inviting women to their "Creep Show"). I suspect that because of the Razzy-related drama between my top two boyfriends Curtis Jackson and Robert Sylvester Kelly, 50 had some choice words for Kells: "I'm pissin' on grown women...R. Kelly do it to children." That diss will be outdated when the R-uh in R&B is exonerated at his trial starting next Monday, but whatever. Fitty is the silver lining on this 9/11, or as he puts it, he's "in the cut like germs" and you should go celebrate the day we got seriously dissed by Al Qaeda by buying yourself a copy of Curtis and listening to the dulcet beef-fomenting tones of 50 Cent, the world's most accomplished hater next to Osama.
In addition to the science business, I was distracted this morning by all those depressing 9/11 memorials on TV. That shit is live from Ground Zero every year, and while I obviously understand the importance of having a 9/11 memorial service, why does it have to be on every single fucking channel? It is a lousy way to start the morning listening to a choked-up NYFD captain rattling off the names of all his dead friends, and I wish there was ONE channel that would pay attention to other important news. I think it would provide hope to us all to hear some GOOD news on 9/11 for a change. For example, the news that 50 Cent's album Curtis dropped today and it is AWESOME.
As usual, 50 Cent is the master of the diss and the unintentionally hilarious lyrics about his prowess in the bedroom (if the song "Peep Show" wasn't titled that, I would have thought Fitty and Eminem were inviting women to their "Creep Show"). I suspect that because of the Razzy-related drama between my top two boyfriends Curtis Jackson and Robert Sylvester Kelly, 50 had some choice words for Kells: "I'm pissin' on grown women...R. Kelly do it to children." That diss will be outdated when the R-uh in R&B is exonerated at his trial starting next Monday, but whatever. Fitty is the silver lining on this 9/11, or as he puts it, he's "in the cut like germs" and you should go celebrate the day we got seriously dissed by Al Qaeda by buying yourself a copy of Curtis and listening to the dulcet beef-fomenting tones of 50 Cent, the world's most accomplished hater next to Osama.
Labels: 50 cent, boyfriends, grad school bullshit, I LOVE IT, J-Sexy, rap, Robert Sylvester Kelly, terror
Friday, September 07, 2007
Curtis will eat Kanye's children
This is the cover of the new Rolling Stone, and I think it's pretty obvious that this isn't even a contest:
This is like watching Mike Tyson do a pre-show press posturing contest with some well-manicured prep school douche with a practiced condescending sneer and an unprecedented case of Jesus envy: you know Tyson would say something effeminate and confusing, skinny boy would unwisely try to intimidate Tyson with some overdone intellectual posturing, and Tyson would thump his chest and just stab him, bludgeon him, poke his eye out, bite his nuts off, or otherwise deal him some seriously grievous hurting.
Okay, in fairness, the other day my buddy was listening to a new Kanye West song that I kind of liked. I heard it, and I was like, "I know this is Kanye...I know this is Kanye...but it's kind of catchy. I like the beat. I can just ignore his preachy, pompous prattle."
"Is this Kanye West?" I asked my friend Neo.
"Yes," she said.
ARRGH! I winced, knowing that it goes against everything I stand for to like Kanye West. I then calmed myself with the knowledge that even though I might like ONE Kanye West song here and there (I liked that "Slow Jamz" song too, if only because of the part where Twista says "let me get you wet listening to Keith Sweat"), my boyfriend Fitty will still destroy Kanye in this contest that Kanye supposedly didn't even want to participate in. SHA RIGHT...this whole thing was a big publicity stunt that was probably Kanye's idea in the first place. That bitch is so in love with himself he had to come up with something clever to bring his album sales up to match his ego. 50 Cent is getting rich, but Kanye is apparently dying trying, so naturally he'd need a clever ploy to piggyback on 50's album sales. Now, as a result, they did a big photo shoot together for Rolling Stone to promote the albums that will be going head to head in a sales contest when they drop on 9/11.
Based on menacing eyebrow-based scowling tactics alone, 50 is taking this one all the way. Besides, Kanye may have one song that's enjoyable if you ignore Kanye's bloviating lyrical flow, but Fitty has songs on his new album where he brags about how he's "got more whips than a runaway slave" and where he pitches his new vibrator line in terms of an anecdotal tale of his erotic carny magic tricks ("now watch me pull a rabbit out of a hat, then you can use the rabbit all over your cat"). Curtis is taking Kanye's pretty ass down.
Okay, in fairness, the other day my buddy was listening to a new Kanye West song that I kind of liked. I heard it, and I was like, "I know this is Kanye...I know this is Kanye...but it's kind of catchy. I like the beat. I can just ignore his preachy, pompous prattle."
"Is this Kanye West?" I asked my friend Neo.
"Yes," she said.
ARRGH! I winced, knowing that it goes against everything I stand for to like Kanye West. I then calmed myself with the knowledge that even though I might like ONE Kanye West song here and there (I liked that "Slow Jamz" song too, if only because of the part where Twista says "let me get you wet listening to Keith Sweat"), my boyfriend Fitty will still destroy Kanye in this contest that Kanye supposedly didn't even want to participate in. SHA RIGHT...this whole thing was a big publicity stunt that was probably Kanye's idea in the first place. That bitch is so in love with himself he had to come up with something clever to bring his album sales up to match his ego. 50 Cent is getting rich, but Kanye is apparently dying trying, so naturally he'd need a clever ploy to piggyback on 50's album sales. Now, as a result, they did a big photo shoot together for Rolling Stone to promote the albums that will be going head to head in a sales contest when they drop on 9/11.
Labels: 50 cent, assholes, capitalism, hot dudes, rap
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: Superhead
Nickname: Superhead
DOB: August 24, 1978
Occupation: serial ho
Hometown: St. Thomas, US Virgin Islands
Current residence: Los Angeles, California
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: People often ask me if my website has ever impeded my efforts to get laid, because it drives away the honeys with their fear of being written about afterwards. The truth is, I hardly ever write about about the people I sleep with, and when I do it's usually because they either did something egregiously awful to piss me off or because something funny happened during the sex. Either way, I usually go out of my way to protect the identity of the person I'm writing about, because I would like to continue getting laid, and I don't want to be cockblocked by my own blog. However, as much fucking-and-telling as I do, I've got nothing--and I mean NOTHING--on Karrine "Superhead" Steffans.
A former rap video vixen, Superhead became far more famous for her extreme promiscuity than for her video dancing skills. Why famous people are still fucking this bitch is a mystery to me, because now that she's gone to pasture in terms of being solid video hoochie material (she's 28), she's ventured into the realm of writing tell-all books about her various conquests. In her first book, Confessions of a Video Vixen, she had the following things to say:
Shaquille O'Neal "was nothing to complain about." She says that Shaq was so impressed with Steffans that, the day after meeting her, he deposited $10,000 into her bank account. At least she's not shy about being a huge ho. That said, I figure that Shaq's dick is roughly the size of an old-growth Douglas fir, so she probably deserved every penny for actually fitting that into any of her various orifices and not complaining.
After hearing so much about Fred Durst's stature, she gushed, "to actually hold him … felt like a privilege." EWWW!!! Fred Durst's dick is a privilege? That was obviously written circa 1999.
Vin Diesel "was a beautiful man … blessed with an enviable eight-pack and an even more enviable cock." And an enviable ability to drive his career straight into the dirt with some seriously bad movie choices.
After inviting her to his home at 4 a.m., Sean (P. Diddy) Combs kicked his manservant Fonzworth Bentley out of a guest bedroom so he and Steffans could spend 15 minutes making love. "You're one of the best," she says P. Diddy told her. Steffans writes: "I said the same to him, when, in actuality, he was average." No surprise there. I wish she would have told me what I REALLY want to know about Diddy, which is whether or not he goes, "Uh, take that, take that, take that, Bad Boy" during sex. Maybe she omitted that detail because it's a given.
After her book dropped in 2005, Steffans supposedly said she promised God that her days of writing about her hyperactive sex life were over, and she'd be walking a moral path henceforth. However, Confessions of a Video Vixen was such a success that Steffans has signed with Warner Books to write two more tell-alls, except in keeping with her spiritual convictions, she's offering a slightly more subtle discussion of her famous sex partners' dick sizes. She's also sold the rights to a movie about her ho-liness for a cool $7.3 mil. In her upcoming book The Vixen Diaries, she continues her trend of rating various celebrities' abilities in bed.
Usher was originally lauded for his prowess in the sack in her first book, but in the second one, Karrine changes her tune and says she boned him out of pity. Because it was after a concert when we “fucked” and it was smelling like straight up FISH up in backstage in his dressing room. It was NOT me either. So I'm like babes? What's that smell. He tried to make it seem like it already smelled like that when they got to the arena. I'm like whatever, can we get this over with. It was fucking horrible and on top of that it was smelling back there. This man is not packing, his dick is way small and he was having a hard time trying to find my hole. Then ol' boy did something out of this world, he yelled out something Haitian. I was sick to my stomach. I got dressed and ran out of there. The fact that Usher's dick is small or that his nether regions stink is no shock to me. I've had Usher pegged (no pun intended) as a down-low butt boy for a long time now. That woman he just married even looks like a damn man, so consider me unsurprised that Usher doesn't know his way around a vadge.
50 cent and I have had our share of sexual encounters. We kick it every time he comes to L.A.. His dick is not as big as I assumed it would be. It was probably about 7 1/2 inches. But it's not a big disappointment because he can eat pussy like no other. 50 loves tities and ass. I happen to have them both so I guess that's why he immediately came on to me. You have to be sleeping with some serious heavy hitters to think that 7 1/2 inches is disappointing. I've had dicks bigger than that, but most dudes would rejoice in having a 7 1/2 inch dick. Not that I didn't already know about my boyfriend Curtis Jackson's penis size or his cunnilingus abilities. He loves my T&A too.
Young Buck was the best I ever had. His dick was like the Energizer Bunny. It kept going and going. The sex lasted for hours at a time. It was the best I ever had and it got better each time. Don't tell that to 50! That's how motherfuckers get kicked out of the G-Unit...by somehow one-upping "tha don." Just ask The Game. If it gets out that Young Buck is a hotter lay, he's probably going straight back to Ca$hville.
Juelz Santana's really wild in bed, and don’t let the ‘No homo’ stuff fool you, because he is definitely not a homo in bed. His dick is like a baseball bat, but it’s thick too, like an overgrown German sausage. He likes to pull hair a lot, and he actually likes it better when a girl rides. Have you ever seen Juelz Santana? He's kind of skinny and short. I wouldn't have thought he's packing some bizarre hybrid of a Louisville Slugger and a Johnsonville brat between his legs, that's for sure.
Rather than continue elaborating, Karrine just breaks out a long-ass list with some quick ratings of virtually every well-known rapper from the past decade:
Mystikal - long Mystikal?! Is he even still alive?
Trick Daddy - long and full of energy Duh. How else could he keep up with Trina?
Twista - medium So I guess Twista's claim in R. Kelly's "Hit It Til the Mornin" that he is capable of "slid(ing) this dick off in yo womb" is false. Unless, of course, Superhead's standards of "medium" means 12 inches. It's also possible that Twista's dick looks smaller than it really is when contrasted with his corpulent physique.
Will Smith - long UGH! WILL SMITH?! I thought he was gay. Note that Superhead says he's "long" but not "thick." The Fresh Prince is a pencil-dick, for sure.
Xzibit - long but comes too quick Don't they all. But don't hate...he was probably on his way to film a deodorant commercial or pimp someone's ride. Unlike Young Buck, a busy man like X to tha Z doesn't have all day to just lounge around fucking groupies.
Kool G Rap - Long but can't fuck Well, he fucked her enough to be her baby daddy. She had to be nasty since he's charging that she's a lousy mom to their bastard son Naim.
Talib Kweli - medium No surprise there. Talib wouldn't be bitching about social problems nearly as much if he had decent wood.
Redman - hung like a banana Is that good or bad? I'm thinking that's good, but Karrine's standards are so impossibly high that this could well be a diss from her.
Black Thought - medium Again, no surprise there. Black Thought doesn't spend nearly enough time talking about his hoochies and his rims.
Russell Simmons - small NO SHIT! He's a vegan who married a tranny (I'm convinced that Kimora Lee has a Y chromosome), so consider me unsurprised that he's lacking the equipment to please a real woman.
Khujo from Goodie Mob - very long Yuck.
Ja Rule - Long and full of energy DOUBLE yuck. I wonder what 50 thought of that assessment.
Jay-Z - Real thick and juicy but you cant stand looking at him when he’s on top Jay-Z--who I'm also convinced is gay--is definitely a double bagger, meaning you put a bag on his head AND yours for extra protection from his hideous visage.
OutKast - Both big but Big Boi is bigger and fatter Dre’s is long and slim. No surprise there.
Pete Rock - big Who the hell is Pete Rock? Is he somehow related to Kid Rock?
Puff Daddy - medium Or, as she stated before, "just average"
Rakim - Long Quit saying "long"! I want some measurements!
Mobb Deep - Havoc is big but Prodigy is small I guess that's what sickle cell anemia will do to a guy. Also, as long as she's fucking half the G-Unit, why didn't Lloyd Banks and Tony Yayo get a piece?
M.O.P. - Long pipes but Danze has a smelly body odor Be sure to put on deodorant (hence the semi-favorable ratings for Redman and Xzibit) before fucking Superhead, because that bitch has the sense of smell of a bloodhound.
Nas - small I knew it. You can tell from the constant self-aggrandization. Dudes with pharoah complexes are always packing toothpicks.
Nelly - medium But did he take off the Band-Aid before getting down?
Scarface - medium Average and unremarkable, just like his career
Snoop Dogg - too long Snoop is a cervix-slammer, huh? Ewww....
Ol’ Dirty Bastard - may his big dick rest in peace Where thankfully it can't knock any more bitches up.
Clipse - They’re both long but they cant fuck and Pusha T’s breath stinks Again, it's advisable to make sure your personal hygiene is in order before fucking a gossipy ho with a keen sense of smell
Common - Long but too skinny Figures. Common is such a sensitive little crybaby, it's no shocker that he's sporting a Sharpie fine point.
Da Brat - can eat a pussy. One would hope. She IS a big old dyke, after all.
Mos Def - long but his breath stinks You know Mos Def's fugly ass thinks he's too good for a toothbrush.
Timbaland - long and fat but can't fuck and comes too quick And probably says "Uh, uh, baby girl" incessantly, as well. But don't hate. That's just the way he are.
Too $hort - long and thick but talks to much shit in bed He talks a lot of shit everywhere else, too. Why would his pillow talk be any different? She should consider herself lucky that she didn't wind up working the streets of Oaktown or choking on sperm in her windpipe.
Q Tip - long but skinny. He has an asshole personality His name says it all.
Mase - Long but he has an asshole personality too Well, DUH! He's a born-again Christian. They all have asshole personalities.
Master P - nice and long and can fuck Except for the fact that his nasty-ass gold grill is probably always twinkling at you with every "UHHHHH!"-punctuated thrust.
Method Man - Long but comes too quick His methods need some perfecting.
Missy Elliott - pussy has a bad odor Missy, Missy, Missy. As a full-on lesbo, you should know better.
50 Cent - medium/long I already knew that.
Big Punisher - The same size of a can of air freshener Big Pun better be hung like one of those hospital-sized cans of disinfectant, because I can't see any other way you'd be able to extract his dick from all those fat rolls, God rest his soul.
Busta Rhymes - Big and long bit cant fuck. Just because you are left sore he thinks he did something. Man, I HATE guys like that. I feel you, Superhead.
Canibus - real long Canibus? Are you kidding?
Noreaga - Long but he cant fuck What would you expect with those dumb glasses he always wears?
Lil Wayne - nice and long Or not. He probably just shared some of his killer weed with Superhead and thus gave her a far rosier, higher impression of what it's like to bone Tha Carter.
Kanye West - Big but he cant fuck No, but he probably thinks he's God's gift to women's vaginas.
KRS-One - small Obviously. KRS One complains too much about everything. I know where it comes from.
LL Cool J - Nice and fat And gay.
The LOX - All of them are big except for styles. styles is very tiny. And J Hood is abnormally fat. Sounds like Superhead was causing some intrigue behind the scenes of the "Jenny From the Block" video. South, south Bronx!
Ludacris - Just perfect. Long and fat Big things come in little packages, I guess.
DMX - Long and can fuck forever Because he's on PCP!
Fabolous - big dick but comes to fast So it was less than fabolous?
Fat Joe - small at first but when erect he’s impressive. Because his cock emerges from his massive dimpled pelvis like a phoenix from the ashes.
Wyclef - Long but his breath stinks Probably from the lengthy vocal exercises needed to assume other Caribbean accents besides Haitian. For example, on R. Kelly's latest album, Wyclef is pretending to be Jamaican. Previously, he was fronting like he was Cuban with all that "Guantanamera" business. You can't blame him for accessing his tidal breath because he has to fake an accent to lend some Caribbean street cred to some song he's guest performing on.
Ghostface Killah - Long but he comes too quick God, has she fucked the entire Wu-Tang clan???
Anyway, I applaud Karrine's efforts to make money out of her extremely popular vagina without resorting strictly to prostitution and porn, both of which she has dabbled in. Because I'm a sucker for salacious gossip, I also applaud her fuck-and-tell-all policy. I plan to buy her new book as soon as it finds its way to the Barnes and Noble sale rack. What a hot-ass slut.
Labels: 50 cent, Daily Dude I Want to Hit, librophilia, Lil' Wayne, media whores, rap, sex, sluts
Monday, August 13, 2007
Curtis shall overcome
I've obviously spent all morning dicking around on The Smoking Gun's website, and while there I came across one more reason why super douchebag Kanye West is going to SO LOSE to my boyfriend Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson in their album sales throwdown on 9/11.
I've already established that I think Kanye West is a pussified little twat with a big mouth and an annoying sense of self-righteous messianic egotism. That haughty expression constantly on Kanye's bitchy little face makes him look like a privileged prep school wuss on his way to go sailing or hit the squash courts, and certainly no match for a scowling, Louis Vuitton-holster-wearing, Heckler and Koch-wielding, highly motivated, extremely aggressive gangster-turned-businessman like Fitty. Okay, that "highly motivated, extremely aggressive gangster-turned-businessman" thing is actually from a Westside Connection song, but it works for Curtis too. Anyway, adding to his contrasting general impression of manicured pretty boy-ness, Kanye West's tour rider demands a whole host of faggotronic personal care items, from Nivea "Intensive" moisturizer to a fucking BARBER CHAIR. He also insists that each venue purchase socks and underwear for him, although he declines to specify his brand preference, which is surprising since he seems the fastidious, label-whore type whose coochie remains in the Gucci name. He seems the type whose patience you should never test on account of being high maintenance...HIGH CLASS, and if you ain't rollin', then bypass. Kanye's doing a terrific job of bucking those materialistic ideals prevalent in hip-hop culture that he loves to alternately embrace and criticize at his convenience. He also requires a new soft-bristled toothbrush and Neutrogena dandruff shampoo. Kanye West has a dandruff problem? No wonder he also requested a white crew-neck t-shirt...it helps disguise those embarrassing scalp flakes.
Kanye must also not be keeping up on his business news, because he states in emphatic capital letters, "NO COKE PRODUCTS ARE TO BE PLACED IN THE DRESSING ROOM" while simulaneously noting that eight bottles of Vitamin Water are a "must have." Vitamin Water is made by Glaceau, which was just acquired by Coca-Cola in a deal that made Fitty's stake in the company worth $400 million. I think it's safe to say that Fitty is going to beat the shit out of Kanye on the Billboard charts if he's such a dominant and pervasive force that Kanye himself requires a Formula 50 before each and every performance. God knows he can't shout "We want pre-nup! We want pre-nup!" satisfactorily unless he's pounded a bottle ofCurtis Jackson grape-flavored water. He probably needs a dose of Fitty's chutzpah before he can muster the stones to go preach to his audience full of socially conscious liberal arts college students.
Anyway, if anything ever indicated that Fitty is going to mop the floor with Kanye's preppy, metrosexual, dandruff-shedding ass, it's his own damn prima donna tour rider. Fitty's only requirements for general accommodations (at least according to his lyrics) are "stash box, laptop, fax machine, phone...bulletproof this bitch and I'm gone." He's a sexily dangerous handful, I'm sure, but I bet he doesn't stoop to a level of diva where he specifies which brand of pistachio nuts he'll deign to eat. He also MIGHT be on the down low, but you'd never see him giving that away with demands for L'Occitane soap. Kanye not only has the audacity to insist that each concert venue provide him with toothpaste and deodorant, but insists on prefunking with 50's own eponymous Kool-Aid. What a fucking tool. Curtis is going to smote his thoroughly moisturized, Izod-loving ruin upon the mountainside come 9/11.
Kanye must also not be keeping up on his business news, because he states in emphatic capital letters, "NO COKE PRODUCTS ARE TO BE PLACED IN THE DRESSING ROOM" while simulaneously noting that eight bottles of Vitamin Water are a "must have." Vitamin Water is made by Glaceau, which was just acquired by Coca-Cola in a deal that made Fitty's stake in the company worth $400 million. I think it's safe to say that Fitty is going to beat the shit out of Kanye on the Billboard charts if he's such a dominant and pervasive force that Kanye himself requires a Formula 50 before each and every performance. God knows he can't shout "We want pre-nup! We want pre-nup!" satisfactorily unless he's pounded a bottle of
Anyway, if anything ever indicated that Fitty is going to mop the floor with Kanye's preppy, metrosexual, dandruff-shedding ass, it's his own damn prima donna tour rider. Fitty's only requirements for general accommodations (at least according to his lyrics) are "stash box, laptop, fax machine, phone...bulletproof this bitch and I'm gone." He's a sexily dangerous handful, I'm sure, but I bet he doesn't stoop to a level of diva where he specifies which brand of pistachio nuts he'll deign to eat. He also MIGHT be on the down low, but you'd never see him giving that away with demands for L'Occitane soap. Kanye not only has the audacity to insist that each concert venue provide him with toothpaste and deodorant, but insists on prefunking with 50's own eponymous Kool-Aid. What a fucking tool. Curtis is going to smote his thoroughly moisturized, Izod-loving ruin upon the mountainside come 9/11.
Labels: 50 cent, assholes, boyfriends, overcompensation, rap, scathing indictments
Friday, August 10, 2007
Vote for my boyfriend (buy his album)
A few days ago, my boyfriend Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson decided to accept an offer by BET to host a debate between him and bitchy prima donna Kanye West. Their third albums, Fitty's Curtis and Kanye's Graduation, both drop like the Twin Towers on September 11th, and the mock candidates' debate will allow both rappers to publicly explain why they are superior to each other. I'd say that judging by album cover alone, Fitty wins by a longshot. He looks hot and intense, while pretentious douchebag Kanye's album looks like it was designed by a fifteen-year-old wannabe Harajuku girl snorting Oxycontin and watching a marathon of "I Love the 80s Strikes Back" on Vh1.
Kanye claims the debate is a stupid idea, saying "what am I going to debate about? It's the stupidest thing. When my album drops and 50's album drops, you're going to get a lot of good music at the same time." Some might consider this tactful, but I would argue that it's actually a cowardly way of pussying out because he knows he can't hold a candle to Fitty's world-famous dissing skills. Fitty isn't taking diplomacy as an answer, and has decided to raise the stakes in his competition with Kanye. He is literally betting his career on being better than Cuntface West according to "my favorite hip-hop website's favorite hip-hop website" SOHH.com. According to Fitty:
Checks not trophies! G-g-g-g-g-unIT!
"Let's raise the stakes. If Kanye West sells more records than 50 Cent on September 11, I'll no longer write music. I'll write music and work with my other artists, but I won't put out any more solo albums."WHAT?! This cannot be. I will freak out if I can't buy new music where Fitty says stuff like "I got no pick up lines, I stay on the grind, I tell the hoes all the time, 'Bitch, get in my car'" and "isn't it ironic how erotic it is to watch you in thongs" every couple of years. Fortunately, it seems that my boy CJ is confident that he'll win. He also had this to say:
"And I bet this, when Kanye West's sales come in, he's gonna have a 70% decrease [the second week] 'cause Def Jam is gonna buy records to keep him closer to 50 Cent. So watch the first week and then watch the second week. Watch his ass drop off the planet. We keep our angles covered before we make a decent bet. I didn't get one trophy for ‘The Massacre.' ... I don't get trophies, I get checks. He gets the trophies."Whew. I'm glad Fitty has his bases covered. I would expect him to, because it takes an especially prescient business mind to parlay a small investment in Glaceau into an overnight $400 million Vitamin Water fortune, but still...gambling with a career like his is enough to send me into fits of hysterical terror. I'll do my part to ensure that Fitty continues making ridiculous CDs by encouraging you all to go pre-order Curtis RIGHT NOW.
Checks not trophies! G-g-g-g-g-unIT!
Labels: 50 cent, boyfriends, capitalism, hot dudes, intentional buffoonery, rap
Friday, August 03, 2007
Daily Douchebag: Kanye West
Name: Kanye Omari West
DOB: June 8, 1977
Occupation: Rapper, producer, college dropout, deity
Hometown: Oak Lawn, Illinois
Current residence: Chicago, Illinois
Douchebaggery: Kanye's been pissing me off for a long fucking time now. Every time he does something I like (ie: "George Bush hates black people"), he mitigates it with something I hate (preceding that insightful post-Katrina statement with a full two minutes of incoherent rambling about himself--shut UP, motherfucker, because you are a wealthy white man who flies your favorite foods overseas on private jets for fucking business meetings). Further evidence of his certifiable insanity can be inferred from his regular association with the mentally unbalanced:
He's also a fucking hypocrite on par with that homo-hating pastor who got busted snorting meth off his boyfriend's asshole. I loved when he did that "Diamonds from Sierra Leone" song in which he lectured everyone about conflict diamonds, when he's perenially rocking a diamond-encrusted suffering Christ medallion. This fits nicely with his delusions of messianic grandeur, best exemplified by this Rolling Stone cover. Right around the time he donned his crown of thorns and crucifixion-ready faux face scourging on, he mentions that if the Bible were written today, he'd assuredly merit a chapter (at least) in it of his own. With humility like that, he is assuredly the pride of his born-again congregation for being most Christ-like:
Even worse, as further proof that God complexes are catching, this whole Jesus thing seems to have rubbed off on his regular collaborator and fellow despicable, egotistical piece of trash Jamie Foxx, the "savior of R&B." And as a Catholic, I can say that I say a decade of Hail Marys every night in the hopes that God will send his only Son back again to dance around and sing "Gold Digger" in a bunch of old, Nick Cannon pit-stained costumes from the movie Drumline:
Anyway, in addition to seeming considering himself the Second Coming (hey dudes, brace yourselves for the Apocalypse if that's true...has anyone checked what's going on in the Valley of Megiddo lately?), as well as the ultimate authority on stuff that's acceptable (anything he's ever shit out) versus not (anything he hasn't that garners more critical praise), Kanye has now decided he is the arbiter of slang terms as well. This week, he told Complex magazine his views on the word "bling," a word that since its introduction to the popular lexicon I have personally ever heard used in the context of rap songs, Debbie Matenopolous's fashion critiques on E!'s "The Daily 10", and sardonic jest:
Only white people and older black people say 'bling' now. If a white person uses slang too early, then that makes them look like a wigger. But if black people use slang too late, then it makes them look like a wigger.Who the fuck appointed Kanye West an expert on racial trends in semantics? Nobody uses the word "bling" unless it's followed with a punch line and a guffaw. It might slip out of my mouth in an extremely sarcastic tone of voice, but I dare that arrogant, highly overrated Nautica polo shirt aficionado to call me a fucking wigger. In fact, I would argue that the word "wigger," given its racist derivations and lack of use now that Kevin Federline is for the most part out of the spotlight and no longer warranting snarky commentary on the blogosphere, is more outdated and inappropriate than "bling."
Besides, didn't he ever listen to the original Shirley Bassey song he sampled? Diamonds are forever, and so is any term that ANY person wishing to call them once it enters the vernacular. Like it or not, "bling" is here to stay in whatever form it is used, and Kanye needs to just keep his asinine, contradictory, self-involved opinions to himself if he doesn't want to make the entire fucking world completely hate his preppy ass. Please, God, inspire Fitty to devote a full song to busting on this fool on his upcoming album Curtis! Kanye needs to come down a notch or twelve, and nobody is better qualified for doing this than Curtis Jackson. I need to hear him say shit like "you got feminine ways...I heard you got four lips and bleed for seven days" about Kanye Christ, and the world needs it too.
Labels: 50 cent, assholes, crazies, Daily Douchebag, Dear God, overcompensation, rap
Sunday, June 03, 2007
Because he was feeling left out
I've been raving so much about Skipper Sig Hansen and Robert Sylvester Kelly lately that I've been neglecting to laud my #1 boyfriend, Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson. I was watching the MTV Movie Awards tonight, and after spending about ten minutes ranting to myself about how overrated and annoying Sarah Silverman and Dane Cook both are, and thinking murderous thoughts about the Pinkett-Smiths and their obnoxious kid, I was calmed by two things. First, a Transformers trailer (and HOLY SHIT, it looks awesome) replaced my feelings of rage with kid-on-Christmas-morning giddy excitement, and then a commercial for Vitamin Water starring none other than my boyfriend Curtis. The premise of this commercial is that not only has Formula 50 consumption given Fitty the business acumen to earn $400 million dollars last week when Coca-Cola acquired Vitamin Water manufacturer Glaceau (which Fitty owns a stake in), but the conductorial skills to lead a full symphony in a freestyle orchestral arrangement of "In Da Club:"
This makes me wish I actually liked Formula 50. Despite what the name might lead you to believe, it's grape-flavored, not Curtis Jackson-flavored. As much as I love Fitty, I can't stand grape-flavored anything, as it reminds me of Dimetapp and thus of being sick. Maybe if I could choke down enough Formula 50, I would graduate tomorrow, achieve fame, fortune, and wealth beyond imagination (the plan for that is TBA), buy the Seahawks, get elected president, and live happily ever after comparing myself to Beethoven. Since I can't tolerate it, though, I guess I'll have to do it the old-fashioned way: plenty of stick-to-it-iveness, elbow grease, American pride, and fucking people in influential positions. In the meantime, however, I'll have to not hate, and rather congratulate. Nice marketing, Curtis, and nice symphonic skills.
**Golf claps**
This makes me wish I actually liked Formula 50. Despite what the name might lead you to believe, it's grape-flavored, not Curtis Jackson-flavored. As much as I love Fitty, I can't stand grape-flavored anything, as it reminds me of Dimetapp and thus of being sick. Maybe if I could choke down enough Formula 50, I would graduate tomorrow, achieve fame, fortune, and wealth beyond imagination (the plan for that is TBA), buy the Seahawks, get elected president, and live happily ever after comparing myself to Beethoven. Since I can't tolerate it, though, I guess I'll have to do it the old-fashioned way: plenty of stick-to-it-iveness, elbow grease, American pride, and fucking people in influential positions. In the meantime, however, I'll have to not hate, and rather congratulate. Nice marketing, Curtis, and nice symphonic skills.
**Golf claps**
Labels: 50 cent, boyfriends, capitalism, hilarious shit, hot dudes, media whores, ridiculous absurdity, TV
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
I am a rarse clark, whatever that is
On account of recent out-of-town guests and LL Cool Jew's nuptials, I've been neglecting the site this past week, but that hasn't stopped the haters! I guess they took advantage of this rare period of silence from me to speak their minds. Someone complained in the comments that my "journal entries" are boring. To that end, I have upcoming stories about strippers, scotch, my amazing breasts, and lesbian sex, so, Dear Diary, be patient until I can bring that noise. Also, my e-mail had this waiting gem from yet another 50 Cent hater taking issue with my conclusions in the World's Greatest Rap Beefs section:
From: benet thomas (outlawzbenet@gmail.com)
To: Razzy (razzy@razzy.org)
Subject: You're a retard
Claiming that 50 cent fucking wis every beef, even with some shitty excuses
like "Kim's in jail and So is Shyne so 50 wins" What the fuck is that you
rarse clark?
There isn't even beef from Shynes point of view and if you did your fucking
research G Unit keeps trying to sign him to their records, Shyne just keeps
telling them to get the fuck off his dick as he won't be involved in the
shit G unit keeps putting their artists in so 50 Cent ordered a verbal
assault on him. No other track was released by Shyne as he's in fucking
prison, only an interview where he states thet 50 Cent is a two faced mutha
fucka.
How is that beef you idgit?
Get of 50's dick.
I find these e-mails amusing because people are always so indignant that I like 50 Cent. I don't think people ever realize that my fondness for my boyfriend Curtis is more due to his humorous antics as opposed to his prowess at rap. I did, however, enjoy the rather Biblical-sounding "get of 50's dick." That sounds like some sort of antiquated version of the Liturgy of the Eucharist: "take this all of you, and eat of it, for this is my body which has been given up for you...do this in memory of me." I think it more likely that Benet's inferior typing skills resulted in omission of the letter "f" rather than a subtle reference to the transubstantiation of the host, but I couldn't resist making a crack about it in my reply.
From: Razzy (razzy@razzy.org)
To: benet thomas (outlawzbenet@gmail.com)
Subject: RE: You're a retard
Well, Benet, since this is approximately the 50th poorly composed e-mail I've received disputing my assertions concerning the venerable Mr. Curtis Jackson, I have a ready answer: it's my fucking opinion. If you would like to set up an internet shrine to Shyne's lyrical aptitude and dominance over the G-Unit from his cell at Sing Sing, be my guest. However, please be advised that in my experience, it's always much better to properly spell "idiot" before you use that term to defame someone.
I will, therefore, not "get of 50's dick." In fact, I'd gladly get of it, if he were to proffer it.
Regards,
Razzy
P.S. What the fuck is a "rarse clark"? I am curious.
I eagerly anticipate a reply from "Outlawz Benet", particularly concerning the etiology and definition of the term "rarse clark". Based on my internet research, only one person, some chick named Beckie on MSN, has ever been called this and per her message board queries, it means either "no way, Jose" or "I'm Rick James, bitch." Needless to say, I'm still confused regarding its meaning and whether or not it's an insult that makes any kind of sense at all. And Benet says I'm the retard.
From: benet thomas (outlawzbenet@gmail.com)
To: Razzy (razzy@razzy.org)
Subject: You're a retard
Claiming that 50 cent fucking wis every beef, even with some shitty excuses
like "Kim's in jail and So is Shyne so 50 wins" What the fuck is that you
rarse clark?
There isn't even beef from Shynes point of view and if you did your fucking
research G Unit keeps trying to sign him to their records, Shyne just keeps
telling them to get the fuck off his dick as he won't be involved in the
shit G unit keeps putting their artists in so 50 Cent ordered a verbal
assault on him. No other track was released by Shyne as he's in fucking
prison, only an interview where he states thet 50 Cent is a two faced mutha
fucka.
How is that beef you idgit?
Get of 50's dick.
I find these e-mails amusing because people are always so indignant that I like 50 Cent. I don't think people ever realize that my fondness for my boyfriend Curtis is more due to his humorous antics as opposed to his prowess at rap. I did, however, enjoy the rather Biblical-sounding "get of 50's dick." That sounds like some sort of antiquated version of the Liturgy of the Eucharist: "take this all of you, and eat of it, for this is my body which has been given up for you...do this in memory of me." I think it more likely that Benet's inferior typing skills resulted in omission of the letter "f" rather than a subtle reference to the transubstantiation of the host, but I couldn't resist making a crack about it in my reply.
From: Razzy (razzy@razzy.org)
To: benet thomas (outlawzbenet@gmail.com)
Subject: RE: You're a retard
Well, Benet, since this is approximately the 50th poorly composed e-mail I've received disputing my assertions concerning the venerable Mr. Curtis Jackson, I have a ready answer: it's my fucking opinion. If you would like to set up an internet shrine to Shyne's lyrical aptitude and dominance over the G-Unit from his cell at Sing Sing, be my guest. However, please be advised that in my experience, it's always much better to properly spell "idiot" before you use that term to defame someone.
I will, therefore, not "get of 50's dick." In fact, I'd gladly get of it, if he were to proffer it.
Regards,
Razzy
P.S. What the fuck is a "rarse clark"? I am curious.
I eagerly anticipate a reply from "Outlawz Benet", particularly concerning the etiology and definition of the term "rarse clark". Based on my internet research, only one person, some chick named Beckie on MSN, has ever been called this and per her message board queries, it means either "no way, Jose" or "I'm Rick James, bitch." Needless to say, I'm still confused regarding its meaning and whether or not it's an insult that makes any kind of sense at all. And Benet says I'm the retard.
Labels: 50 cent, boyfriends, correspondence, grammar gestapo, rap, Razzy Haters
Monday, March 05, 2007
Here's the beef
Most of the e-mail I get can be classified into several general categories:
1. People disputing or encouraging incorporation of various Hot Jews on the list
2. People telling me they love the site because X blog posting was hilarious
3. People telling me they hate the site because X blog posting was offensive
4. People taking issue with the extended coverage of 50 Cent on my "rap beefs" page
Today I received an e-mail from the latter category. These "rap beefs" e-mails are always pretty similar in that, after sifting through a sea of misspellings and aberrant punctuation, I glean that the author is trying to prove to me that my boyfriend Curtis Jackson is insincere, untalented, and a snitch because either Jadakiss/the Game/Fat Joe/Nas beat him in a mythical rap battle that may or may not have happened. In particular, the Jadakiss supporters are especially feisty, and I'm often about this close to reminding them that despite having all sorts of "realness" attributed to him by his fans, he did appear on the aural abortion known as "Jenny from the Block". When your ass appears in a video where the main storyline includes Ben Affleck pumping gas into his and J-Lo's Bentley, I think you should lose a few points for street credibility, but whatever.
In any event, these e-mails are all usually really indignant, question my taste in music and my intellect, and demand that I change it. Then there's some sort of vaguely threatening sign-off, such as "quit suckin fiddys dick bitch" or "i dare u 2 respond u probly a chickenhead snitch just like 50 u fuckin fag". I always respond, inform the e-mailer that my website contains MY opinion, and if they think something different should be on the internet, they should start their own fucking website. I also typically make a choice remark or two about their literacy. Today's e-mail was no exception, although, judging from the e-mail address, this hater is Canadian:
To: Razzy (razzy@razzy.org)
From: Peta Pemberton (nakitap@shaw.ca)
Subject: This is from Tony Vedovato
I'm sayen that your fucken veiw on the beefs are wack I think you need
to get of 50's dick and you sound like a fag Fat Joe Jadakiss and
especially the mothafucken game ripped 50 to peices he is a snitch he
does live in conneticut haven you ever seen stop snitchin stop lien,
shit if you have the balls email me back justify your faggy ass reviews
Okay, Tony Vedovato/Peta Pemberton (and by the way, don't BOTH of those names sound like comic book characters?), no problem. I'll e-mail your ass back AND post your correspondence on my website.
To: Peta Pemberton (nakitap@shaw.ca)
From: Razzy (razzy@razzy.org)
Subject: RE: This is from Tony Vedovato
Well, I don't "have the balls" because I'm not male (and I think my status as a female
likewise answers your charges that I am a gay man), but certainly I have the courage to
respond via e-mail to your assertion that my opinions are "wack." I can justify my
"faggy ass reviews" quite easily and succinctly: it's my website, and they're my
opinions. If you wish to figuratively fellate Fat Joe, Jadakiss, and "especially the
mothafucken Game" and talk shit about my boyfriend Curtis, then I suggest starting your
own online monument to useless bullshit, because I don't change my opinions based on
getting partially incomprehensible e-mails (ie: I have no idea what a "lien" has to do in
relation to snitching, but somehow I suspect it's not the legal freezing of an account or
property to secure payment of a debt).
Another opinion I have is that you need to come up with a more diverse array of insults
than simply the several variations of "fag" you use here. I would also strongly suggest
a review of basic grammar and spelling, starting with "i before e except after c."
Those are my "fucken veiws".
Razzy
I can't wait to see if Peta/Tony likewise has the requisite balls to respond. Man, I love me a good e-mail freestyle battle.
1. People disputing or encouraging incorporation of various Hot Jews on the list
2. People telling me they love the site because X blog posting was hilarious
3. People telling me they hate the site because X blog posting was offensive
4. People taking issue with the extended coverage of 50 Cent on my "rap beefs" page
Today I received an e-mail from the latter category. These "rap beefs" e-mails are always pretty similar in that, after sifting through a sea of misspellings and aberrant punctuation, I glean that the author is trying to prove to me that my boyfriend Curtis Jackson is insincere, untalented, and a snitch because either Jadakiss/the Game/Fat Joe/Nas beat him in a mythical rap battle that may or may not have happened. In particular, the Jadakiss supporters are especially feisty, and I'm often about this close to reminding them that despite having all sorts of "realness" attributed to him by his fans, he did appear on the aural abortion known as "Jenny from the Block". When your ass appears in a video where the main storyline includes Ben Affleck pumping gas into his and J-Lo's Bentley, I think you should lose a few points for street credibility, but whatever.
In any event, these e-mails are all usually really indignant, question my taste in music and my intellect, and demand that I change it. Then there's some sort of vaguely threatening sign-off, such as "quit suckin fiddys dick bitch" or "i dare u 2 respond u probly a chickenhead snitch just like 50 u fuckin fag". I always respond, inform the e-mailer that my website contains MY opinion, and if they think something different should be on the internet, they should start their own fucking website. I also typically make a choice remark or two about their literacy. Today's e-mail was no exception, although, judging from the e-mail address, this hater is Canadian:
To: Razzy (razzy@razzy.org)
From: Peta Pemberton (nakitap@shaw.ca)
Subject: This is from Tony Vedovato
I'm sayen that your fucken veiw on the beefs are wack I think you need
to get of 50's dick and you sound like a fag Fat Joe Jadakiss and
especially the mothafucken game ripped 50 to peices he is a snitch he
does live in conneticut haven you ever seen stop snitchin stop lien,
shit if you have the balls email me back justify your faggy ass reviews
Okay, Tony Vedovato/Peta Pemberton (and by the way, don't BOTH of those names sound like comic book characters?), no problem. I'll e-mail your ass back AND post your correspondence on my website.
To: Peta Pemberton (nakitap@shaw.ca)
From: Razzy (razzy@razzy.org)
Subject: RE: This is from Tony Vedovato
Well, I don't "have the balls" because I'm not male (and I think my status as a female
likewise answers your charges that I am a gay man), but certainly I have the courage to
respond via e-mail to your assertion that my opinions are "wack." I can justify my
"faggy ass reviews" quite easily and succinctly: it's my website, and they're my
opinions. If you wish to figuratively fellate Fat Joe, Jadakiss, and "especially the
mothafucken Game" and talk shit about my boyfriend Curtis, then I suggest starting your
own online monument to useless bullshit, because I don't change my opinions based on
getting partially incomprehensible e-mails (ie: I have no idea what a "lien" has to do in
relation to snitching, but somehow I suspect it's not the legal freezing of an account or
property to secure payment of a debt).
Another opinion I have is that you need to come up with a more diverse array of insults
than simply the several variations of "fag" you use here. I would also strongly suggest
a review of basic grammar and spelling, starting with "i before e except after c."
Those are my "fucken veiws".
Razzy
I can't wait to see if Peta/Tony likewise has the requisite balls to respond. Man, I love me a good e-mail freestyle battle.
Labels: 50 cent, correspondence, defiance, grammar gestapo, rap, Razzy Haters, retard rage, scathing indictments
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Must buys for my boudoir
A friend of mine employed by a major news network has just tipped me off to some serious breaking news in the business world. It seems my boyfriend Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson has just informed GQ that he plans on further broadening his line of signature products to include condoms and sex toys. And I quote:
"I need to make a 50 Cent condom, and a motorized version of me."While he has stated that he wants his condom line to promote HIV/AIDS awareness and safe sex, he doesn't quite have the particulars figured out regarding his 50 Cent vibrator. I applaud the amount of thought he's putting into it, though. Clearly he's trying to think from a woman's point of view, as he's considered many of the more practical aspects of vibrator use:
"A motorized version of me will definitely have to be waterproof, so you could utilize it in the tub. A lot of them (vibrators) aren't waterproof."I could add that, in my experience, a superior vibrator is one that plugs into a wall outlet. The Sharper Image sells a lot of "neck massagers" that are excellent for this purpose. I've found that the battery-powered ones, while having the advantage of portability, often lose their juice too quickly. However, it is true that there are precious few vibrators that can stand immersion, or more importantly, that won't electrocute you if introduced to the bath or shower. For years, women have been compromised with those variable-speed massaging shower-heads, which I've always found to be woefully inadequate for rubbing one off (it's easier to just do it the old-fashioned way with your dominant hand) AND potent inducers of urinary tract infections. Fitty would clearly be getting into a market with plenty of room to grow by making a waterproof vibrator. This isn't the only concern my man Curtis has for his line of G-Unit pleasuring devices, though.
"Blue is my favorite color, so it would probably be blue. But I don't know how big. I don't know if big is better, because I'm not sure a man wants his woman playing with a really big dildo."Typical men...always concerned first and foremost with their own stupid fucking penis insecurity issues. I wonder if this isn't a clever ruse to distract consumers from the fact that a "motorized version" of himself might not be the hugest weiner women have ever seen. I mean, I've obviously seen his penis like a zillion times, but I'm not at liberty to say how big it actually is because he swore me to secrecy. All I have to say to him is baby, if you want to make a product that women will want to use, that shit better have some girth and *several* different speeds! At least Fitty's final word on the project makes sense:
"I want to create something like that, that's fun and sexually exciting for women."If you pull it off, bitches everywhere will be glad to get in your car, Fitty!
Labels: 50 cent, boyfriends, capitalism, I LOVE IT, masturbation, perversion, rap, sex
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