I know, I know, I know. I've been lackadaisical with the blog thus far this month. I can't even claim to have been incredibly busy, cause I'm not. I've had time. And I won't lie and say that I couldn't think of anything to blog about, cause I've had a lot of crap festering in my brain. Honestly, the reason why I haven't posted a damn thing this month, is cause I ain't feel like it. Point blank. Now, I've had several requests in the last two weeks to update this thing and I do appreciate that people actually want to read what I've got to say. But then I got to thinking about it and besides my "fanbase" from the Friendster days (does 5 people constitute a fanbase?), most of my readers are just plain greedy. Why do I say that? Because there are over 30 entries in this blog. There are 20 some odd posts in the archive that folks have never read, but they clamor for new entries. My momma always told me that I couldn't get seconds until I finished what's on my plate. Same thing applies to my blog. If you haven't read my letter to Star Jones, the rules for befriending an ex, and my neverending issues with the Idiot Who Made Me Cry, then you haven't earned the right to ask for anything more. And you know how I know those archives aren't getting read. Big Brother is watching, readers. I got Sitemeter. That beautiful tool tells me who visits, how often, how long, and how many pages they view. If you only view one page, and I see you entered on the main page, then I know your ass is greedy. I feel as though I just give and give and give, and people just take and take and take. Well I refuse to be your Patsy any longer!!! This blog is officially shut down, until I see at least one comment (well thought out and intelligent) in each and every post on this blog. Don't ask me to write if you won't do your part and read. Or maybe not. I forgot, I blog for me, not for you. But I still want those comment.
Now, on to the actual point of this blog. I've been watching a lot of TV lately. Well I guess you could consider 25 years to be lately. I've noticed a really disturbing trend. On the Making The Band 3 season finale, Diddy sent the girls home for 3 months and when they came back, how come three of these chicks came back with something resembling a drowned beaver glued to their heads? That wasn't the most disturbing part though. These girls had a photo shoot, and the hair stylists actually let them get in front of the camera like that!!! The next day, I decided to feed my intellect so I turned to 106 and Park. Remy "please don't ever touch a mic again" ma was on there introducing her new video. There was some sort of lopsided blonde in front, jet black in the back, back length hair that obviously once belonged to a Korean on.....
We interrupt this post to bring you this special report. After three months, one week, and three days of silence from the Idiot Who Made Me Cry, contact has been made. It wasn't me. I just picked up the phone. And the only reason I did that was because I didn't recognize the number on the caller ID. I erased him about a month ago. What did the Idiot want? NOTHING!! But the interesting thing is, I don't want anything either. Aahhh, progress! Now if the Guy Who Shouldn't Make Me Cry would follow suit, life would be a dream. Now back to your irregularly scheduled post.
.....her cranium. The worst part was when she had the nerve to give her hairdresser a shoutout for hooking up her do. Obviously, vengence belonged to the stylist. Beyonce (man stealing tramp) is the worst offender. That dried up mess she sports looked so much better on the horse she stole it from. Now I have no problem with weave. It's an effective styling tool and keeps the hair from being damaged. But damn it, couldn't they at least get something that looks believable instead of beweavable. Visible tracks with an invisible hairline is NOT cute. Nor are matted roots with straight ends. Are decent weaves that hard to come by? It's not as though they can't afford it, especially Beyonce's multiplatinum ass. If Ashanti could find a weave to fool the masses, then surely B could do the same.
The part that's funny to me is that these women are surrounded by handlers who actually tell them that shit is "fiyah." People actually encourage them to present themselves to the public looking like they spent the day at Hair Magic Beauty Supply's wig station. Ironically, on America's Next Top Model, Bree had to do a photo shoot without being able to see herself in a mirror, and her hair was fierce. If that's the best B, Remy, and company could come up with after spending hours in the mirror, I'm seriously questioning their sanity, judgement, taste, and intelligence. Shit, even Stevie Wonder could see they look a hot ass mess.