DIVAS

I’ve noticed VH1 has been bringing back some of their classic shows like Behind the Music and DIVAS. I was definitely excited to hear that DIVAS was coming back this year. Remember the old school DIVAS, Whitney, Aretha, Mariah, Celine, Diana, Shaka, etc? There was nothing like some top selling female artists, with the biggest hair ever, trying to out sing each other.

It would start with Mariah singing, “I’m every womaaaaan!”

Then in comes Whitney, “No girl, nah uh, I’M everrrrrry womaaaaan,” belting even louder holding that note longer than Mariah.

Then in comes Shaka, to reinforce what Whitney just did singing, “It’s all in meeeeee!”

And while she’s singing, Mariah hits that high note putting everyone to shame. Diana is just on stage putting her big ass hair in everyone’s face and Whitney is in the background doing the ‘praise the lord’ shimmy.

* sigh *

Those were the music days I remember.

I was disappointed when I heard what the line-up was going to be for DIVAS this year. Kelly Clarkson, Jennifer Hudson, Leona Lewis, Miley Cyrus, Jordin Sparks and more. Ok VH1, I’ll give you Jennifer and Kelly, but Miley Cyrus? * side eye * Miley Cyrus is not a DIVA, will never be a DIVA, probably wasn’t even around when the original DIVAS aired.

*throws hands up in the air*

It might be too soon for Whitney, Celine is preggo, but I’m wondering if Beyonce and Christina were already booked? I know our music is in the shitter right now, but if Miley Cyrus and Jordin Sparks are the new DIVAS, this could be the beginning to the end of American music.

If you want to check out DIVAS , its Sept. 17th, 9/8 central, on VH1.

When karma punches you in the face...

I dub this as Perez Hilton's new theme song...



It would be irrelevant for me to go on a rant right now about Perez and his antics as of late. I'm not condoning violence or picking sides, but didn't he have it coming? And I'm sorry but that was a good ass whoopin' son. It's like all the nasty things he's ever said about other people swelled up in his left eye.

I really do hope he signs up for John Mayer's, "Never Call A Black Dude a Faggot Jitsu" class...

An Open Letter to Fergie

I probably shouldn’t be writing you this, but I guess it’s too late to turn back now. I just wanted to take the time to congratulate you on the new hair. It has done wonders for my eyes. And it also actually makes your eyebrows look somewhat normal.

Before, when you would sing about how glamorous your humps were, I didn’t get it. Something just wasn’t right. From my perspective your humps were not something to brag about and your face is definitely puffier than any lady. And then comparing yourself to a child with a blanket really sobered me up. I was so confused, not only because I wasn’t quite sure where I was at the time, but also because your face is the opposite of that of a child’s.

I’ve been seeing this makeover around the web for a few days now and gheezus what a world of difference this has done for you! Your new hubby may have enjoyed running his fingers through those stringy not quite blonde, not quite brown, ugly, greasy highlights, but I sure could have done without the visual. And thanks to your innovative stylists poof, it’s gone! Yay! Go team!

Anyway, I just wanted to express how happy I am that now when you sing I can actually enjoy watching the talent as well as hearing it. I don’t have to close my eyes and pretend that surprisingly good voice of yours is coming out of someone else’s mouth. It makes the experience that much more enjoyable. So yeah, thanks.

Sincerely,

Ms. Fresh Banana Puddin’
PS- Unfortunately, there still is that part in the middle …

I’m Like Totally Not in High School Anymore

It has been sooooo freakin’ hot over here the last two days. And the f*cked up part is that it’s hotter inside my house than it is outside.

Also for the last week and a half I have been getting phone calls from an anonymous number in my area. They call and breathe a little bit into my ear, before I hang up.

I got excited at first. Yay, I have a stalker, maybe they will bring me some Starbucks or something. Then I got irritated as they continued to play on my phone. So I texted the number asking who it was. They texted back, “don’t worry about who I am, but I know who you are.”

I’m like, “that’s great that you know who I am. If you want to converse then speak up when you call me, otherwise stop calling my phone!”

Crazy anonymous stalker texted me back, “I wasn’t the one calling you, my boyfriend Mike Perkins is the one who has been calling you.”

At first I panicked. Oh sh*t, did I get drunk and leave my panties at some guy’s house? I racked my brain, Mike? Who the f*ck is Mike Perkins? Then I started laughing. He was the hot bartender at my old job. The one who I’ve flirted with, gave my number to, but never hung out with. Besides, he told me he didn’t have a girlfriend. Men. I think they are programmed to say, “I don’t have a girlfriend.” Right.

So anyway, I called him and I’m like, “Mike, is your last name Perkins?”

“Yeah”, he said, like he already knew what was up.

“Um can you tell your crazy girlfriend to stop calling my phone?” I asked.

“I know. I’m sorry, but it’s out of my hands. We haven’t been together in awhile. She’s trippin’,” he replied.

What do you mean it's out of your hands? You better handle that, homie.

Great. Just great. It’s cool. I think I could take her…

She Set Me Back A Load

I was using a public bathroom the other day. * Gasp * No actually this is normal. I’m not one of those people who hold in their bodily fluids until they get home. If I got to go, I’ve got to go.

In fact, I’ve mastered the pop-a-squat-put-toilet-paper-around-the-entire-seat-don’t touch-anything art of peeing or what have you in public restrooms. It’s an acquired skill that comes from bar hopping and having four brothers who don’t understand the concept of aiming into the giant toilet bowl. (Honestly guys, is it that hard?)

So anyway, I had to go pee in a stall the other day. I had just went to get change and I'd forgotten it was in my pockets. When I pulled down my jeans all my laundry money fell out of my pockets and rolled into the stall next to me. I leaned under as I’m peeing to try and grab it and I see the feet of some chick. “Crap.” So I decide to wait until she leaves to start collecting.

I hear her leave and think to myself, “ok good, now I can get my quarters.” Mind you I’m still sitting down with my pants around my knees. I look under as I hear her door swing open and ALL MY CHANGE IS GONE! WTF? Did this heffa swipe all my quarters?!

She had on cute shoes so I assumed she might help me out and give them to me when I got done. But by the time I got my pants on, flushed and came busting out the stall, that heffa was gone.

Since when did people start stealing quarters in public restrooms? Ok stupid question. It’s not the money.It’s the principle, dammit.If I ever find that chick, I’m going to make her separate
my lights and darks…

MsP

An Interview with Heidi Montag

Well as some as you might know I have it out for The Hills “star” Heidi Montag.

She fits into that category of people-who-make-you-want-to-stab-yourself-in-the-eye-with-a-fork, repeatedly, as in over and over again. A neverending blinding irritation. I just don’t like her. Something about her makes me want to shoot her in the head.I would never do something like that.I don’t own a gun.I don’t know what it is though.I’ve never met Ms. Montag and I hope I never do. Seems like a conversation with her would be a waste of time. However, (in my mind) for some reason, I interviewed her…

MsP: How’s it goin’ Heidi?

Heidi: Good. Thanks.

MsP: That’s good. I guess. I heard you just recently launched your own clothing line, did you hear about this?

Heidi: Oh yeah! It was my idea.

MsP: Good for you, you had an idea. Fantastic.

Heidi: Yeah, it sucks though because I didn’t get as involved as I would have liked to. I was really busy getting all the fat sucked out of my thighs and running around on the beach in my bikini.

MsP: You have been looking a little slim lately, tell me, when was the last time you ate?

Heidi: A couple of days ago. I think. Wait, um yeah, it was Monday.

MsP: Really, almost a week now. What did you have?

Heidi: A grape.

MsP: Just one grape?

Heidi: Yeah, but then I threw it up after. I was afraid people were going to be able to see the imprint in my stomach lining.

MsP: Oh, I see. So what made you decide to get into music? I don’t know if anyone told you, but, um, well how do I put this lightly? You have NO talent.

Heidi: Really? I thought I was good. Huh. Well anyway, my fiancé told me that my boobs make me look smarter and I was a good singer. I took his word for it. I mean I need something to fall back on after The Hills.

MsP: What about getting an education? Have you thought about that?

Heidi: It’s crucial that I focus on the show, my music, my clothing line, getting plastic surgery, fighting pointless fights with people just as pointless as me, bleaching my hair, staging my relationship, before I worry about those things.

MsP: Oh well you got to do what you got to do. Although, you do look smarter maybe it’s your new boobs and nose, hmmm. Real quick, what’s one plus one?

Heidi: *thinking *

MsP: Nevermind. Well I think I’ve had about as much as I can take. Thanks for joining me on my blog today.

Heidi: Two!

MsP: And we're done...

Where's Puddin' ??? II

Hint: I'm the only one smiling like a dumbass...

Would you gold dig it?

Ladies, ladies, ladies, I’ve noticed a shift in my readership. I used to get a lot of male commentary, now it seems to be coming from the ladies. Maybe I don’t put out as much as I used to? I don’t know, but there’s nothing wrong with this, in fact I want to take the opportunity to write something for my female readers.

A while back I wrote a post about how men always go on and on about how disgusting a chick is. Gonorrhea, one eye, snot bubbles, dookie booty, a missing toe and a hairy back often times will not prevent a man from still tapping that ass. Slaus even went ahead, (possibly jeopardizing his man card), to explain the three categories men put women into:

1). Id wife her.
2). I'd hit it.
3). I'd hit it if I don't have sh*t else to do, like: nothing is on TV that day. Xbox live account is down.
4). I'd never hit that sh*t. nevah.

So ladies now it’s your turn, but since we are ladies, I guess the question would be more so “would you gold dig it?” Fellas to be fair go ahead and toss in your two cents, but ladies, if the price was right would you…

F*ck with Flava Flav? (Yeah boi!)

Now I know this nucca is black as hell and has like 15 baby mamas, but somehow he still manages to have 20 women per show throwing their wet panties at him. On a good day he will take you out for some fried chicken and while you’re out you might get to sport one of those fancy clocks. I mean who could pass up the chance to possibly get a cool nickname like, “booty-cheeks” or “cherry popper”?

What about R. Kelly?

Now ladies, I know what you are thinking, “he only likes to piss on underage girls.” But I’m sure if you asked him, he wouldn’t mind pissing on you too. Yum!

How about mini me aka Verne Troyer?

Think abut this for a second, because technically he is the perfect height. The money might be soooo worth it.

Joe Francis?

Ok I went out on a limb with this guy, but hey, at least it will be easy to get into one of his videos. Just walk around the house topless and intoxicated.

The Chick Who Offended My Vagina

Remember before the holiday when I got all mushy talking about a potential bisexual experience? Well the b*tch never called me. So all my curiosity about eating box flew right out the window.

Then similar to the time I had one too many vodka cranberries in a karaoke bar, ya know, the place where the fat guy slouched over the bar for half the night, suddenly gets up and feels the need sing ten Nickleback songs in a row? Yeah, that place. The same karaoke bar where I met (stumbled upon) a guy who later turned me into a pretzel and stuck random gardening tools up my ass. (Don’t tell me this hasn’t happened to anyone else before)…Well like I was saying, the chances of reenacting that experience is parallel to the fact that I bumped into the same chick at the bar Saturday night.

Coincidence? Maybe. Small world? I think not. Me drunk again? Yes, of course.

Let me just say for the record I was on fire that night. I had guys whispering things in my ear like, “Let me buy you two drinks” and “I like your weave” all night. I didn’t get any numbers, but I did get a couple of room keys. Wait a minute, now I get it. Damn. Ok so what I was dressed like a hooker at a pimp convention on 5th street and I watch enough TMZ to know how to correctly flash my vagina. (Thanks Britney!)

Anyway, the chick that hit on me a couple weeks ago was there and she was all up in my ass. No you sick people! Not literally in my ass, she was just jockin’ the goods. She kept trying to dance and rub up on me, while whispering in my ear, “damn girl your bad, your bad.” I’m sorry just because you have a vagina doesn’t mean anything. You got my number and you didn’t call, so stop rubbing up on me. I’m going to treat you like any other man. I demand an explanation! I’m a catch b*tch!

So she starts telling me her see-what-had-happened-was story about how she didn’t want to scare me, blah, blah, blah something about how amazing I am, blah, blah, blah. I know, I know, get to the point. Basically there was no point, so I brushed her off and she spent the rest of the night stalking me. Relentlessly trying to get me into the bathroom so we could make out.

No, I didn't go! It takes three not two drinks to get my shirt off and my tongue out.

At the end of the night she found me again only to remind me that she still had my number and this time she was going to call. I’m so sure and Ms Puddin’ has had gardening tools up her ass before, gah! It doesn't matter if she calls or not, I'm over it. I think I was just caught up in the moment.

So much for the vagina, it's back to the penis...

Please don't stop the funny...

So I’m sure everyone has heard by now about the Writers Guild’s strike. Unless of course you are a reality TV kind of person, this probably has affected you. Or is going to affect you. I know I can’t go without my Grey’s Anatomy or Desperate Housewives fix. And some of my favorite female characters have been brought to life by writers…

Karen Walker: Will and Grace

“Martini, honey, and don’t waste any space with those olives!”

I love this bitch. She’s always dressed for the occasion wearing her expensive black designer clothing and hairpiece. She never fails to entertain us by washing her prescription meds down with a martini before 11 a.m. and talking sh*t about all the "little people".

Samantha Jones: Sex and the City

“The country runs better with a good looking man in the White House. Look what happened with Nixon…no one wanted to fuck him, so he fucked everyone else.”

Doesn’t everyone wish they could be a little bit more like Samantha? She’s a bold career woman who has a tendency to get what she wants. She’s promiscuous and classy. Go figure?

Christina Yang: Grey’s Anatomy

“You are eight feet tall. Your boobs are perfect. Your hair is down to there. If I was you I would just walk around naked all the time. I wouldn't have a job, I wouldn't have any skills, I wouldn't even know how to read. I would just be... naked.”

Christina is dry, bitter and has SARCASM stamped on her forehead. And thanks to WGA, her wit comes naturally, almost like performing open-heart surgery.

Gabrielle Solis: Desperate Housewives

“The only person more self-centered than me is Carlos, he's so self-centered he doesn't even know how self-centered I am."

There are two things Gabby does best, cheating on her husband and talking about herself. Sounds exhausting, when does she find the time to be desperate?

I Get Money

What happened to me? I decided to write something of substance. Something with meaning and stuff.

Unfortunately, the only thing I could think of is, I have yet another job! (Technically the third one only makes two and a half). I know, I know, why don’t I get a sugar daddy already? Well, I’m really enjoying building character and learning to work well with others. And when I buy my own sh*t, like a $200 pair of shoes, I don’t feel guilty.

What is my half job?
I‘ve taken up go-go dancing. Yes, Ms Puddin’ has been shakin’ her ass in her underwear, in the club, on a Saturday night. I’m a hustla baby! Go-go dancing is kind of like killing three birds with one stone. 1). I get paid to do it. 2). I don’t have to go to the gym. 3). I get to go to the club for free! The best part about that last point is that I don’t have to deal with all the lame guys in the club, because the dancers have security all to themselves. I also don’t get drinks spilled down my shirt, because I don’t even have to wear a shirt. (I wear a bra, booty shorts and some go-go boots).

If I had a man, he would appreciate this sweet piece of ass. Matter of fact, bottle blonde said it best when she listed the qualities in a man who she would get on her knees for. Someone who showers and who thinks I’m funny. Not funny looking.

So anyway, back to shakin’ my ass. Can someone please tell me why only females hit on me Saturday night? (That was a rhetorical question. Please refrain from actually responding). Yes, while I was dancing one girl slapped my ass, another insisted I let her buy me a drink, while their other friend kept pointing out my dancing skills to people unknown. Between stares she would snap pictures of me on her digital.

I did say I was thinking about crossing over to the other side, but when the opportunity presented itself I sort of froze up. I wasn’t prepared for it to be so easy. Well, drunk girls in the club are potentially easy…It was just so sudden I wasn't prepared.

I would also like to add my body feels like I got beat up by Hulk Hogan in a WWF showdown. I am really, really sore. I should have stretched, before dancing. However, I don't stretch before sex, so I don't see how this would be any different?

So much for writing a post of substance. Somehow in the last few hundred words I managed to write about sex, dancing half naked and (unintentional) lesbianism. Oh well, how was your weekend?

There Really is A Sex GOD!!!

I know, I know, my work is coming out in spurts today. I think it's the heat. I can't concentrate. My face is melting into a sweaty blob that is traveling into my cleavage...

I just wanted to share one more thing before I call it a day.

Apparently, Sarah Jessica Parker and whats-her-face (Kim Cattrall) have squashed their beef, after an hour and 45 mins. of mud wrestling. It was a close call. I'm not sure who won. S.J.P.'s weave was blocking my view, but The Sex and the City movie is a go!!

Next to the Spice Girl reunion tour, that had to be the best news I've heard all day...