Hey y’all,

Sorry I’ve been MIA for what, like 2 months?!! Yea, well a girls gotta handle her business and to be qiute frank, I’ve been trying to decide what direction I want to take this sucka in anyway.

Just don’t have a nervous breakdown on me ’cause I’ll be back with some fresh material soon. In the mean time, you can check me out as a guest blogger on my girl Conny Kate’s site. She’s freakin’ dope so here’s to hoping I don’t run her shit into the ground!

http://connykate.wordpress.com

Enjoy it and I’ll holla at you soon.

xoxo,

Lady Half-Breed

Earlier this morning, I was talking to my sister Hawaiian Silky Half-Breed about nothing in particular when, for whatever reason, she brought up the band Gym Class Heroes. Trying desperately to convince me that this band is worth caring about, it wasn’t until she walked away crooning their new single “Clothes Off” that I remembered the first time I truly felt our generation gap.

A couple weeks ago and I was riding in the car with my dear friend Mixxy Mulatto and we were on our way to her house to watch that coconut horror flick Turistas which, let’s be honest, was a complete waste of time. Unlike most of our car rides together, we decided to listen to the radio instead of whatever throwback cd we were diggin’ on at the time and this was a near miracle because I get tired of the radio very, very quickly.

Just as expected, it only took about 5 minutes for me to lose interest but as I gazed off into space trying to ignore some song by Panic At The Fall Out Boy Hinders My HelloGoodbye I heard something that jolted me so far back to reality I almost choked on my Faygo.

(Listen at least 30 seconds into the video) 

It was the new Gym Class Heroes song. The one my sister had been singing this morning, and I couldn’t believe what they had done. All of a sudden, I no longer saw the gray line that lay somewhere in between my generation and my sister’s, but instead there was a large black one made of permanent marker that had taken its place.

Anyone who can legally drink should be able to at least vaguely remember the original song to which this abomination was sampled from but if not, let me refresh your memory.

His name was Jermaine Stewart and although his career was short-lived, Jermaine enjoyed the success of several popular singles including ”We Don’t Have To Take Our Clothes Off”, a song he wrote during the 1980’s to address the AIDS crisis that arose in the decade. Perhaps ironically, Jermaine died of liver cancer caused by AIDS complications exactly 10 years after the song was released.

So now can you imagine why 20 years after the song was released I was shocked and appauled that some popular little pop-punk-rock-rap-reggae band had sampled the song and changed the chorus from “we don’t have to take our clothes off to have a good time” to “we HAVE to take our clothes off to have a good time”?????

The man died of AIDS people and he was trying to spread a message of abstinence!!!!!!!

Shit, need I remind you of the lyrics “girl show some class, why you wanna move so fast”??? How can some little children go on a bastardize this song so that the message is the exact opposite of what Jermaine intended in the first place?! I mean, how disrespectful can you be?! And to think, I was starting to warm up to Gym Class Heroes. Afterall, their lead singer is a half-breed his damn self! Plus, he ain’t too bad to look at either…

Anyway, so there I sit in the car. Completely taken aback. Hand over my mouth. Shocked because I now understand how my parents felt when every single hip-hop song I ever played had a sample of a song from their youth that had been scratched around until the message was lost forever.

God, how old am I??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!!?

Maybe I’m crazy, but this is disturbing! I can never look at Gym Class Heroes the same way anymore, or anyone who likes them for that matter. That song has completely ruined their entire reputation for me and until they decide to send out a formal apology, and we all know that’s doubtful, they can fuck off and die. In fact, in the words Dave Chappelle as Rick James, one of the most sampled men in history, I would like to say:

Seems like the last few videos I tried to embed stopped working after a while (thank YouTube, I really appreciate it). I’ve since fixed the problem so you can go on enjoying the site as per usual, only this time with videos that actually work. Sorry for the problems y’all and thanks for not bombarding me with complaints. I know how you heffas can be…

xoxo,

Lady Half-Breed

One of my very favorite publications, Time Out NY, recently surveyed 5o single women about dating life in New York. Having been a single woman in New York, I can completely sympathize with these ladies, however, I understand how the amount of cynicism may be alarming to others, especially the fellas.

Take Kisha for instance:

So do you date at all?
No, not right now. I don’t have time for niggas. Ooh! ’Scuse me—I don’t have time for men! Sorry, sorry. Turn that around: I don’t have time for men. It’s not worth it anymore.

Hahahahahaha! That’s brilliant but before you guys get your Calvins all in a bunch you’ve gotta understand that Ms. Kisha was just tellin’ it like it is. And perhaps more importantly, she ain’t the only one who is done with your stank asses. Maybe it’s time you should understand why.

See guys, Kisha may be completely done with the male species all together, but this is not true of all women. Instead, most of us are forced to separate the male species into two very distinct categories: men and niggas. Kisha may have said she is done with men, but maybe a more accurate phrase would be what “I don’t have time for niggas” not “I don’t have time for men” because really, men are the only type of male worth anyone’s time in the first place.

Allow me to put this in simpler terms: men handle their business and take responsibility for their actions whereas niggas are always blaming somebody else for their problems, hangin’ perpetually out on front street. However, the line between who is a nigga and who isn’t can vary from person to person. For you blockheads out there, let’s take a real life example.

It’s a Wednesday evening in the city and I am running around Union Square like a crazy person trying to finish a few after-work errands so that I can make some silly open bar in an hour. I’m just about finished so I decide to stop at a bodega and grab some coffee before I get on the train when on my way out I hear a hiss. Actually, it was more like a psssssssst. The exact same psst I’ve heard come out of many a hoodrats mouth, so I knew to ignore it and keep on walking. Only, as I walked away I heard it again, but louder.

Pssssssssst!

What the fuck. I clearly don’t want to talk to you so leave me alone, I thought, but I foolishly turned around anyway so that I could see what creatures had crawled out after me. Turns out it was some Puerto Rican dude who was probably about 27 or 28 and was leaning against the bodega smoking an L. He was definately cute, but not at all cute enough for me to miss my open bar for. Plus, he just psst’ed at me.

I had places to go so I kept it movin’, but as I turned my head back towards the street he took it to that next level.

Heeeeeey Mami! MA! MA! Girl, you know you hear me, ma. I saw you look at me. Girl, you is so sexy. Come here! I just want to get to know you.

What? You just want to get to know me? No, you just want to know what it feels like to be up inside of me. Ain’t that what you meant to say? Ugh, and he wasn’t done yet.

Ma, you don’t know the things I would do to you.

Whatever, I thought, but right when I thought I was far enough away that he’ll just give up and harrass someone else he yells, right down mu’fuckin’ 14th street:

MA! MA!!!!!!! I wanna eat that pussy girl! Let me at that clit!

Oh hell no. Maybe I didn’t hear you correctly because I know you didn’t just yell that shit down the street at me? Not only that, but considering how loud he yelled it, two other guys thought it warranted a response from them as well- one dude outside the Dunkin Donuts whistled at me and then some business man in front of me looked back and winked as if that was gonna make me drop to the ground and spread my legs.

Now, who do you think was a nigga in this situation? The Rican, the Whistler, or the Business Man?

If you answered all of the above, you are correct. Why you might ask? Because niggas don’t know how to act right and every single one of them acted like a monkey in heat. AND just like Kisha, I ain’t got time to be fuckin’ around with guys like that e.g. niggas.

So, if you’re a real man and you knows how to talk to a woman with respect then halleluyah hollaback. I see no problem there. But, if you still think it’s cute to psst and whistle and yell at obscene things at women, then I suggest you peep the rest of the article:

http://www.timeout.com/newyork/article/613/8789/single-minded

xoxo,

Lady Half-Breed

In random news, a crackhead beat up a peacock in the parking lot of a Burger King on Staten Island. Really. No joke.

According to CNN News, the peacock was just chillin’ when a crackhead jumped out and beat the bird so furociously that it later had to be put to sleep. When asked about the scene, a restaurant worker said “the man grabbed the bird by the neck, hurled it to the ground and started stomping it” then she asked him what he was doing, he responded “‘I’m killing a vampire!”‘

Wow.

If this doesn’t keep the kids off the crack, I don’t know what will.

xoxo,

Lady Half-Breed

Let’s just hope they’re not down-low.

This picture was taken at the Concert for Diana, which was held in England this past weekend and when I saw it I immediately became concerned for the well-being of these two princes. Not because they look uncomfortable around two black men, because they seem to be handling themselves just fine, but because they are hangin’ out with these two black men in particular.

Y’all know how I feel about Ms. Diddy and Ms. Kanye so I’m sure I don’t even have to explain where this is going, but I really must draw attention to the way Prince Harry is whispering into Kanye’s ear. Has he caught the gay already?!? Harry, what would the Queen think?!

Now, maybe I’m a little hard on Kanye and Diddy but really I would just like to give them the opportunity to prove me wrong. And Diddy, running around with Sienna Miller ain’t really doing it….

Especially when you have Kim Porter sitting at the crib with your children and even with a stretch mark or 5  she looks a thousand times better than Sienna, that manly looking stick figure you now call a woman. Oh, and need I even draw attention to those ridiculous sunglasses Ms. Kanye is rocking? If they don’t make him look like an ultra queeny LeVar Burton ala Star Trek then I don’t know what does.

I’m just sayin’…

Harry and William, run while you can. Y’all know you can’t have foam parties up in the Buckingham Palace in the first place.

xoxo,

Lady Half-Breed

Wtf is this?

I was just going about my day when I saw this:

http://www.tmz.com/tmz_main_video?titleid=1078606097

Yuck. She is the exact reason I cannot be down with that brand of Hollywood.  How is it that no one works anymore? Could it be daddy’s money train? Shit, I never knew being unemployed could be so fabulous.

xoxo,

Lady Half-Breed

First off, let me just say that this is all types of typical Bravo swagger. They just love their summer trainwrecks, don’t they? I know y’all remember my personal fav “Being Bobby Brown.” I may not have had AC in summer ‘05 but I sho’ did have my cable hookup so I wouldn’t miss an single minute of that mess. Luckily, I got that central air this summer so I can enjoy my crazy without sweating my perm out in the process.

I think there was some Thursday night premiere or something but I was too busy being on African Standard Time and showing up 7 hours late to a BBQ to care. But last night I was able to catch a rerun and thank the Lord in heaven that I did ’cause this show is ’bout to be my new crack. In fact, I’ma go ‘head and predict this now: “Hey Paula” is going to be the trainwreck to end all trainwrecks.

Imagine this: Its like “Being Bobby Brown”, that stupid Anna Nicole show from a few years back, and “Chaotic” all wrapped into one. And to think, her people have the nerve to tell us that her behavior is just a little insomnia:

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight….

Insomnia or not, dont you just love seeing celebrities all fucked-uppity ‘n shit? It’s fabulous. Especially when their people have no idea how to control them and then make bullshit excuses for them like “oh she’s so tired.” Whatever bitch. If by “tired” you mean “sippin’ on that syzzurp” then alright. I’ll take your word for it.

“Hey Paula” airs Thursday nights on Bravo at 10/9c. Be sure to watch you some. It’s the definition of entertainment.

Not only is his name Blanket but now Michael “Peter Pan” Jackson has him looking like he was conceived at a masquerade ball.

That’s a damn shame.

xoxo,

Lady Half-Breed

This is a man who certainly did not walk off the plantation yesterday and I am lovin’ him more and more by the minute. Not only is he an angry negro but he cannot stop talkin’ about how he was done wrong. In other words, he’s starting to sound crazy and, being a crazy negro myself, I just love shit like this.

This week, Isaiah had this to say:

“Well, it didn’t help me on the set that I was a black man who wasn’t a mush-mouth Negro walking around with his head in his hands all the time. I didn’t speak like I’d just left the plantation and that can be a problem for people sometime,” he says. “I had a person in human resources tell me after this thing played out that ’some people’ were afraid of me around the studio. I asked her why, because I’m a 6-foot-1, black man with dark skin and who doesn’t go around saying ‘Yessah, massa sir’ and ‘No sir, massa’ to everyone? It’s nuts when your presence alone can just scare people, and that made me a prime candidate to take the heat in a dysfunctional family.’’ 

Preach on, preach on! I could not have said it better myself. Stay strong my brotha and let this be a lesson to you crackers out there: the blacker the berry the more likely you are to get a cotton bush thrown in your mu’fuckin’ face.

xoxo,

Lady Half-Breed