(Disclaimer: Nothing in this post is about Justin Beiber, but his bangs annoy the hell out me every week…carry on)

Here are five things that irked the hell out of me this week:

  • Sista Gurl get your curtsey on. No, the Queen isn’t coming, The “extinct successful black man” is gracing you with his bullshit:

 Another article, another reminder of how unfuckable and unlovable we are. This time, it’s Vibe’s turn to step in the shit. In an as told to piece, Rapper Slim Thug—no, you are not alone, I can’t name his last album either—unloaded his anger towards his mother for not breastfeeding him as a child warned black women to be more like white women if they want to have black mates. He said:

 “Most single Black women feel like they don’t want to settle for less. Their standards are too high right now. They have to understand that successful Black men are kind of extinct. It’s hard to find us so Black women have to bow down and let it be known that they gotta start working hard; they gotta start cooking and being down for they man more.”cooking and being down for they man moret cooking and being down for they man more…”

I cannot. Negro, go sit down somewhere. Like I am going to take dating advice from someone whose name is Slim Thug (though you kinda fat), has really never dated a quality woman (only skrippers with red lace fronts and 3 different baby daddies) and has admitted to having serious issues being faithful in relationships.

Instead of popping off at the mouth spreading more misogynistic fuckery, why not just do what all Z- list celebs do when questioning their relevancy? Leak your own sex tape.  Thanks in advance.

  • Jada Pinkett, stop using your kids to prove you are the cool! Isn’t being a swinger enough? We get it, you different.

 We all saw poor little Willow Smith at the premiere of her brother’s movie rocking what looked like a mix of Lady Gaga, Neo from The Matrix with a splash of Mr. T. I can’t. Yeah this might have been somewhat okay if she was 19, not 9. She is not old enough to make an educated decision on looking like a hot ass mess yet.

 I don’t know if it’s the fame, the feeling that they are invincible, the obsession with media attention, or the Scientology, but these damn celeb parents keep playing Barbie and Ken with their kids and I am getting tired of it. IT’S NOT CUTE.  

From Mel B giving her 3-year old a Mohawk with shaved sides, to Katie Holmes’s toddler Suri rocking heels and NO COAT in the winter, to Angelina Jolie dying her kids’ hair all different colors. When will this stop? I am all for allowing a child to explore their creativity and be who they are, but these damn kids are not asking for this, they can barely tell you where their nose is.  

If any Hollywood child is asking for something, it’s baby Zahara begging for Brad to hire a live-in hairdresser. She is tired of looking like a runaway slave.

  • The whackest shows of all time—One Tree Hill, Supernatural, and 90210—continue to get renewed, but The Game is still MIA?

 This isn’t really a new concept, but I saw some commercial on CW for another teen show, full of white kids, based on the same concept of Gossip Girl AND GOT PISSED. The Game was a great show, funny, entertaining , not to mention Coby Bell is an Adonis. And now we have to wait till 2015 probably waiting for EBT BET to get it together and get their money right.

 It’s funny how the origins of CW made their money off black comedies and now there isn’t one left in sight. Television is looking more and more like Anaheim, CA, people.

  •  Who are the “average Americans” surveyed for Facebook’s “Family Feud” game? Cult members? Jesus Freaks? People who think fine dining is Red Lobster?

 Maybe I am just way too New York to excell at this game,  cause I only make it the Bonus Round like once every four games.

What do you mean things that people do in the morning before anyone gets up does not include smoking, reading Media Takeout or preparing for the walk of shame back to your apartment? Apparently, this is the time when people workout and pray and have sex with their cousins.

 This game is not about how smart you are, or reasonable, it’s about how West Virginia you can be.

  •  Helena Andrews’ memoir “Bitch is The New Black” came out last week:  

Ugh. Normally, I would have a lot to say about this, but I am exercising my right to remain silent. Wouldn’t want to be accused of having the right to have a fucking opinion when people suck bringing another black woman down.

 It’s cool though. I’ll just let these three do it for me.

 Book Review: Helena Andrews Has A Quarter-Life Crisis In “Bitch Is the New Black”

 Thirsty is the New Black

Rebuttal: Bitch is The New Black


george-michael-faith_lI always loved George Michael–from when he was wearing coochie cutters with WHAM!, grinding on Aretha Franklin, masturbating in public, came out and went on record saying he was scared to get an HIV test–shit who isn’t? I am a true fan. This song still gives me chills when I listen to it…I mean, “That’s all I wanted, something special, something sacred in your eyes. For just one moment, to be warm and naked at your side.” WHAT? OOOOH-WEEEE. Granted, I was in fifth grade when this dropped, so I wasn’t quite sure what he was talking about per se, but it still made me WARM and fuzzy inside. not to mention GM looked really sexy in this video. The second to last shot when she is walking down the catwalk and he is there just looking at her…DAMN!

This model chic played herself in this video. Back then, he could have been my daddy ANYTIME! Now, not so much, but we definitely could go to Vlada together and get wasted.


I mean, yes we ALL MUST WRAP IT UP and clearly the message isn’t being heard, given the soaring rates of HIV infections around the world. So what does Germany do? Try to scare the hell out of you to not raw dog it by conjuring up emotions of guilt, oppression and mass extinction: Don’t bring the next Hitler into the world. Use a condom.

Slate blogger Willa Paskin writes: A truly astounding series of German condom advertisements are making the rounds this morning—each features a sketch of a sperm made to look like Adolf Hitler, Osama Bin Laden or Mao Zedong. Their not so subtle message being, “Better wrap it up… unless you want to bring evil into the world!” The ads are arresting and hilarious, but the self-flagellation inherent in them strikes me as being distinctly German: I can’t imagine many American dudes susceptible to the suggestion that their sperm wear swastikas, or, to use a more purely American parallel, KKK outfits. (Obviously, their sperm have 90 mile an hour fastballs, good looks and a working familiarity with the art of the deal). It’s a dark take on procreation, informed by an everyday awareness that people can go really, really bad. Of course, people can go good as well, and I almost expect to see these images re-purposed for an anti-condom or pro-life campaign, with sperm made to look like Jesus, Abe Lincoln or Martin Luther King Jr.

What ever happened to just showing pictures of the woman with the cauliflower vagina or the man with bumpy penis to “remind” people of the dangers of unprotected sex? Why you gotta go and get all “George W. Weapons of Mass Destruction” with it? Why you gotta get all Schlinder’s List on it? Now I gotta to worry about HIV and carrying in my womb the next HORRENDOUS murderous dictator who is capable of blowing up things and killing people for fun? C’mon now.

The ads are slightly funny, but a mess nonetheless.

See the rest here.

he_s_just_not_that_into_you_movie_image_jennifer_connelly__jennifer_anistonSo, in hopes of being totally ironic and to give me a reason to resurrect my beloved blog from the ashes, I went to see He’s Just Not That Into You with my girls on Valentine’s Day. Before I go into why the film made me want to slice off my breasts and give myself a hysterectomy with some Twizzlers, I just want to clarify that I am not a bitter single woman living in New York City upset because all the men are gay, into white and Spanish girls, incarcerated, depressed, live with their mother or are looking for God. Yes, all of those reasons play a factor into why I am single, but I’m not mad about it. I am just an average joe pissed off that it’s a recession and I can’t get my twelve bucks back and put it toward necessities like rent or Jack Daniel’s.

But I digress. I didn’t hate it as much as I wanted to, it was well-acted and it had its heartfelt moments, nor am I as mad at it like I was CNN’s Black In America. But there were too many cheesy and pathetic moments happening on the screen and in the theater. All of which led me to boo LOUDLY when the credits started rolling. (My girls can vouche for this)

So in PopGumbo tradition, I must crap all over it. Here we go:

  • Are we really that pathetic? I mean, I know that many of us are so desperate for love, but are we this desperate? Random drive-by’s, calling and hanging up, analzying every last thing that a man says, acting a damn fool, jumping 5 steps ahead? Wait, yes we are this pathetic. Maybe this hit too close to home and that’s why I am uncomfortable. LOL
  • I am the only one who is tired of Scarlett’s big boobs-pouty lips seductress shit? Yes, she’s curvy , hot and sounds like she has been smoking Newports since she was 12– WE GET IT. But c’mon, when is she gonna play the Gigi-type character-the unfuckable one with thin-lips? Now, that’s what I call acting.
  • Is it counterproductive for movie that criticizes society for lying to women about men, to have an ending based on shit that never would happen in real life, hence lying to women again? As much as this movie called out the nonsense, it ended with the nonsense as well. The woman, these dating urban legends–the man who never cried marriage, all of sudden proposes, or the mister I never give a shit, starts giving a shit and becomes totally pressed about a pathetic girl cause she checked him about his mental deficiencies. Trust, if that’s all it took, we all would be boo’d up, cause I have had the whole, “You are dead inside” conversation NUMEROUS TIMES and the response have all been, “And..I know this shit already?” This movie only gives women false hope that shit is magically going to change when dealing with crazy–it doesn’t. When a man shows and tells you that he doesn’t want kids EVER, doesn’t want to get married EVER, that he needs a blow job everyday and he needs you to fulfill that requirement–HE MEANS IT and he is not deviating from that stance. So run Jenny, cause you in danger girl!
  • Where were the folks of color? Yes, there were black folks–the dude with the Coogie sweater, the African hut women, the random hook up chic and the two Nell Carter-looking women who were as sexy as a stick of butter talking about ribs and ice cream. I almost forgot Wilson Cruz’s creamy-licious self, but they were all stereotypes–SURPRISE! Guess it was too much to have characters of color to be main characters. Now, maybe I am naive to think that people of different races hang out with each other in big cities, but I have seen The Wire and Homicide: Life on The Streets, so I know the Baltimore’s surroundings has some black, Latinos and etc. Get a hint from Love Actually, you can have interracial dating be natural and common without turning it into Jungle Fever.
  • Why were the women in the theater acting like damn crack heads waiting for this shit to provide a fix? Look, women were in there acting like Angelina Jolie was giving classes on how to get your coworker to fall in love with you. It’s just a damn movie, there is no need to be 1.)running to get a seat, 2.)taking notes like this shit is real 3.)or oohing and ohhing when Ben Affleck gave Jennifer Aniston that ring. 4.)Going over which scenes almost made you cry when leaving with theater with your friends. ( This really happened.)
  • If the movie had been made by Tyler Perry, it would have been called Girl, Stop Playing Yourself ; Why You So Thirsty, He Only Works in Retail; or Your Relationship is Only As Sane As The Two Mofos In it: Ok, that’s more a statement but I had to put it somewhere.

Look, I know that this is chick flick and no, I wasn’t expecting Milk or The Reader-like performances and plots, and yes in the midst of a recession people need an escape, but damn, try a little harder–not all of us are stupid, just most of us. There is a way to craft a romantic comedy without Julia Roberts and not have people leave feeling like they just had a lobotomy.

I know that many of us are so cynical that if a man were to recite a poem for us, we would purposely conjure up a stroke to get him to stop because we think he wants something like rent money. But, when Lorenz Tate did his whole “brotha to the night” back in the day, we thought it was the best thing since sliced bread.

Oh black love, how times have changed!

Well here he is, aka Darius Lovehall trying to get in Nina’s pants. You know it worked

For you, it is more than alright. Please, you had me at “Alright, this is a little something I have been working on.”

I know that there are a lot of black women who would never date a non-black man. That’s your business, you keep letting Essence pump that “one day your black prince will come” fairytale into your head. He might and he might not, but in the meantime, look around a bit, explore.  I did and I found Keanu Reeves. We are quite happy together.

I know he will never be an Oscar winner, he may not take showers every day and there are those gay rumors, but that has never stopped me before, he is fine!

I had fallen out of love with him , but he has been making a Kellee-comeback, especially with The Lake House a few years ago. After watching that, it was on and popping. I would have waited 10 years for him. 

Man! Only better with age.


Enjoy this montage of my man. 

You really can find anything on Youtube.

Can someone tell me this: Why a grown woman would celebrate her “love story” at an amusement park? They remind me of a 90s high school couple going to Great America after the senior prom, minus the matching Cross Color outfits. [If you are from the Midwest, don’t even front like you don’t know what I am talking about.)

This charade is upsetting me. Not because I am single and bitter, but because it’s another example of fake Black Hollywood love that is forced down our throats. We see it with Denzel and Paulette, we saw it with Essence‘s cover of Kim and Diddy and now these fools, who just met five minutes ago and now are madly in love. The spectacle of it all.

Honest love my ass. Please, Diddy has a better chance of convincing me that he is finally going to marry Kim than Mariah does of proving that her nuptials are not a scam.

This reminds me of an episode of Sex and The City, when Bitsy Von Muffling, a middle-aged socialiate sent Carrie a wedding announcement stating she was marrying Bobby Fine, a known gay piano bar singer. Miranda says:

“We’re adults, we can handle it. Bitsy should say ‘I am getting older and want companionship’ and Bobby should say,”the hot guys just don’t go for me anymore.’ But to print out invitations and call it love, like love transforms people and molecules…well that’s just bullshit.”

Mariah just say no one else wants to mess with you anymore because you are proven certifiable and Nick just admit that you staying relevant has become increasingly difficult ever since…well the beginning of your career. If the two of you don’t agree with my assesments, fine, admit to something else and stop lying to educated people.

Meanwhile gay couples who actually love each other and have children together still can’t get married in most states, but I can marry my second cousin if I wanted to. Something doesn’t seem right about that.

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