Showing posts with label what about the children?. Show all posts
Showing posts with label what about the children?. Show all posts

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Paula Patton is offended, are you?

In a recent interview with Women’s Health Magazine Paula Patton said, “I find [the term biracial] offensive. It’s a way for people to separate themselves from African-Americans….a way of saying ‘I’m better than that’.

I’m black because that’s the way the world sees me. People aren’t calling Barack Obama biracial. Most people think there’s a black president.”


Source: Necole Bitchie.com: Is The Term “Biracial” Offensive?

As a biracial individual I get what Patton is saying as far as how we are perceived. My mom, who is white, said that she sees Obama as biracial. However, I told her although she might see things that way, to the majority Obama is just another black guy.

In fact, coming from my personal experiences, most people when they first meet me assume that I am just a light skinned black person. I know this because people tell me this. They also say that after I open my mouth I sound more like surfer Barbie vs Boquweesha which verifies my “other” qualities. This might be because I’m educated, but another reason might also be because OMG, my mom is like totally a white lady.

I don’t find the term biracial offensive. I’d find words like mutt, half-breed, cross-breed, nigger, etc. offensive before biracial. Why? Because I am more than one race and we live in a society where we have to label everything. So if I had to choose, biracial seems the most endearing.

I can’t help who I am. This is how I came out. When I first meet someone the first words out of my mouth are never, “Hi, I’m Ms Puddin, I’m biracial and I must tell you this because I think that if you’re not mixed you are not as good as me.” I think that Patton has a mixed complex that she needs to work out. I have nothing to hide. My multicultural race is something to embrace…

Wait a minute, timeout. Is it that deep? Is this even worth a discussion? There might be more people out there who would agree with Patton and or are indeed offended. Therefore, I’m wondering maybe the term biracial is equivalent now to when black people used to be called colored or negroes? Or is this going to be something blown way out of proportion?


Also find this article here.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

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.

Friday, July 18, 2008

Thursday, March 20, 2008

Reality TV Makes Me Feel So Intellectual

I haven’t had cable in my house for two years. Before that, my roommate and I used to have bootleg cable. One of our neighbor’s friends had a crush on me, who also happened to work for Comcast. He got to take me out for dinner and I got free cable. (I guess I got the better hand of that deal).

So anyway, we had cable for a year, until the 86-year-old woman who lived downstairs from us died. Just kidding. She moved out and our new neighbors, that we have now, moved in. When Comcast came to hook up their cable, they sure did shut ours off.

Now we don’t even get NBC, ABC, nada. Boo.

However, not having cable has been surprisingly good for my self-esteem. Not necessarily how I view myself physically, but my intellect level has gone way up. I don’t understand words like F@%&!@ or A@$!!**& or S*!!#@%&@H&6$*$^! anymore.

I caught a little of that Rock of Love show on Vh1 the other day and, I swear, (ha) every other word out of these people’s mouths was the F word. I watched Snoop’s show, Dancing with the Stars, The Bachelor, what else? I don’t know, but I guess I’m not missing much. I hate to say it, but with all the reality TV shows out there now, we are basically watching ourselves, and it’s not pretty.

Today I overheard some people who kept saying “Day 26, Day 26”. I’m like what happens on Day 26? What is Day 26???! Are we all going to die? Is Anna Nicole Smith going to come back from the dead and make another Trim Spa commercial? Is rent due early?

They’re like, “uh it’s the group from Making the Band 4, duh.”

Whoa! My bad. I guess I have to wait until they drop their album to get in on that conversation.

Btw, is it just me or do they look a little uncomfortable...

Wednesday, January 9, 2008

This just in...

I think anonymousnupe just solved my dream dilemma with “The Hairbrush Song”...



see post below to read my about my dream. And yes I'm bored at work...

Thursday, December 13, 2007

Tis' the Season

Every year my mom, who is also a writer, takes a little bit out of each of our lives and shares it with friends and family. This year I was a little offended reading the holiday letter, because my mom wrote that I have a bizarre sense of humor. My sense of humor might be a little different, but no one in my family has any room to talk when it comes to how talented and disturbingly entertaining we are.

Just last week my dad called to tell me that my mom had got her foot caught in the strap of her purse while trying to get out of her car. She fell onto the sidewalk and clocked her face on the driver’s door trying to get back up, giving herself a black eye. My dad is already on crutches, because he recently fractured his ankle. So he was sitting on the passenger's side looking over at her like, “what is going on?”

Mom, my sense of humor might be strange, but you sure are talented.

In the holiday letter she also wrote about my baby brother. The poor kid is the last of the siblings, stuck at home with good old mom and dad. At sixteen the kid just got his drivers license and an iphone. (I guess my mom really wants grandchildren)...

Anyway, at my parent’s house, in the kitchen, there is a walk in pantry. My mom wrote about how my brother managed to lock himself into the pantry just before dinner. (The doorknob is broken and he knows it. He was messin' around and got stuck in there). While my dad went to find a screwdriver to take the door off and get my brother out, my mom heard a muffled voice from inside, “Mom, I’m going to have a cookie, OK?” He actually managed to jiggle the doorknob and get the door open shortly thereafter. (“Was it all just a ruse to get a cookie before dinner,” my mom thought to herself).

My mom also wrote in the holiday letter that she went on a rant about how bad soda is. “Soda is not food, it’s one of the worst things you can put in your body,” my mom said. My brother replied, “No Mom, crack is one of the worst things you can put in your body.”

Touché.

My other brother goes to school in southern California. In May my mom received an email from the school, warning parents that there was an outbreak of syphilis on campus. Parents were encouraged to remind their son or daughter not to have unprotected sex. My mom forwarded the email to my other brother. He called her and said, “Mom, everyone’s parents are calling them about that email.” So she said, “Well just promise me that you will have protected sex.”

He replied, “Mom, I promise I’ll have as much protected sex as possible!”

My family, gotta love them…

Wednesday, December 5, 2007

Superman can’t save us from Soulja Boy…

Remember I mentioned I was going to the Spice Girl’s reunion tour?

Well it was last night and all it did was make me feel old. Anytime in the middle of a performance the entertainers start doing a mega mix rendition of “Celebration” and “We Are Family”, you’re old. And when you actually start dancing to it and enjoying it, it’s time for a walker and a new set of teeth. Although, I’m not complaining, I have no regrets about my real life Spice Girl experience.

The highlight (or maybe this is a lowlight) of my night was when we (I went with some coworkers) first arrived at the arena. The lights were still on and there was a DJ spinning some of the latest pop and hip-hop cuts (I’m assuming?) while people were finding their seats.

And then it happened.

The DJ messed around and played Soulja Boy’s “Crank that Superman” song or whatever it’s called.

Picture this: 10,000 (a majority white) female teenie-boppers, in spandex, platform pumps and pigtails doing the “Superman”.



I mean everyone stood up and started cranking their “Superman”. I wouldn’t have minded if it was just, “Going Down”, or “Ballin’”, but the “Superman”? Really? How old are you? Sit down!

I almost had a heart attack when that song came on. The worst part was, they were on point too. I mean they had every last crank, toe touch and “You Know!” down. I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want and that is to not ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever see anyone doing the “Superman” again.

Please. Kill. Me. Now.

I heard Soulja Boy is in the hospital right now. Good. He needs to sit there and think about what he’s done.

Ok enough of me being so melodramatic. Moving on.

I want to apologize to bloggers who I haven’t visited in a while (or at all) and my postings for (still) being on BP time. I still don’t have the Internet on my laptop. The only time I can comment and post is at the end of my day, on my roommate’s computer. Boo.

Unless I get lucky, because sometimes I can trade sexual favors with the neighbors for Internet time. But that is starting to get risky. I’m running out of creative positions for my right leg.

And for those of you haven’t gotten over it, yes, Ms Puddin’ went to a Spice Girls concert. I bet you dance around in front of your mirror, singing “Spice up your life!” into a shoe, too.

* crickets *

Well at least it’s better than the “Superman”…

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

The ABCs of Watching Porn

Creepy older guy is at it again. No not you, that other guy…

Apparently one of the most recent problems in public libraries is “second-hand porn.” It’s not like second-hand smoke, because it can’t kill you, but “oh my eyes! my eyes!”

The concern is that since the library is a public place that serves the community, anyone can come in and use the facilities. That means any guy (girl?) off the street can come use the computer to download porn and whack off. There have been a few instances where officials have actually caught a man strokin’ his shaboinka in a public library.

Another concern of “second-hand porn” is from parents who want to filter the computers so that their kids don’t come across any unexpected pop ups. But if we start filtering the computers the next victim could be their child. Hey I’m just saying. Don’t shoot the messenger. And little Johnny and Betty Sue are going to learn someday. Might as well make it educational. I used to learn from pop up books. There can’t be that much of a difference.

Well, in the meantime, I’ve come up with a solution I think would solve this problem. The library should have a Champagne room. Why not? If we can give people off the streets a place to come in and get a load off, it might reduce some of the crime rate. Of course there is “no sex in the Champagne room,” only self-gratification.

And while we’re at it, why not go ahead and put a bar or lounge in the library too. Libraries are too quiet. Oh and a stripper pole. If there is a stripper pole right in the children’s room, it might scare the children out of the library altogether and we won’t have anything to worry about.

See how good I am at problem solving?