The above is called a “Drunken Negro Face Cookie”, conceptualized, designed, baked, and sold, by Greenwich Village bakery, Lafayette French Pastry. Yep, they were featured in Sex and the City. However, Ted Kefalinos, LFP’s proprietor, would like to feature something of his own, in *honor* of our newly elected Black president. This video speaks louder than any words I could type…
more about "UPDATE: "Drunken Negro Face" Cookies …", posted with vodpod
My President is black
My Maybach too
And I’ll be goddamn if my diamonds ain’t blue
My money’s dark green and my Porsche’s light grey
And I’m headed for D.C., anybody feel me?
My President is Black in fact he’s half White
So even in a racist’s mind he’s half right
Even in these racist times we all right
My President is Black but his house is all white
Rosa Parks sat so Martin Luther could walk
Martin Luther walked so Barack Obama could run
Barack Obama ran so all the children could fly
So I’m gonna spread my wings you can meet me in the sky
I already got my own clothes I already got my own shoes
I was hot before Barack, imagine what I’m gonna do
Hello Miss America, hey pretty lady
Red white and blue flag wave for me baby
Never thought I’d say this shit, baby I’m good
You can keep your puss, I don’t want no more Bush
No more war, no more Iraq
No more white lies, my President is Black
I’m so happy this color doesn’t wash off, cause damn I’ve never been more proud to be Black. ‘Notorious’ grossed over 20mil this weekend, we’re celebrating Martin Luther King Jr. Day on this tenacious 19th of January and tomorrow there will be a Black First Family in the White House. I can’t take it. I might burst and spill years of pride, nationalism, and hope all over these bedsheets. Composure. Composure.
Good lord, Hov.
I’ll keep it so real with you, a singing kid annoys me. And after some short personal analysis, I think it’s because I forever pulped any epiphany suggesting that I in fact couldn’t sing. See my ears started getting these crazy ideas back in the early 2000s that my vocal chords had somehow become the strongest part of my body. I blame this all on Britney Spears, whose lucky saccharine harmonies had me thinking i could belt out national anthems on malnutritioned lungs. Bitch. So mini Whitneys, pint sized Aguileras…yeah they don’t do it for me. I envy children who can outgame adults, especially when it comes to their lifelong dreams.
Now dancing. That’s my sport. Shorty up top can have all of Sesame Street hollering her name, but I’m not phased…Oh god, I just realized I’m talking smack about a fifth grader in a pink skirt. Sigh. Britney, this is all your fault.
Have you seen Gummo? No, not just this scene from Belly.
There’s way too much sanity in that clip. Yeah, sanity. So I’ve realized this past week that so many blacks and browns know OF this movie, but have yet to experience it. By the way, view would have been beyond inappropriate to use. My white boys will feel me on this.
I could end this post now with just one sentence. Gummo is birthed from the same creator as Kids, Harmony Korine. But what can I say, I like to write.
The film opens with a sullen introduction of Xenia, Ohio, a small town that was tackled by a tornado during the early 70s. The next 90 minutes follow several main characters, youngns fenced in monotony, who thrive off of nihilism and butchery. Glazed over are also vignettes of random townsfolk infected with amoral past times due to uniformed boredom. A plot is barely existent, but that’s the magic in Gummo. Ultimately, there’s no one to root for. No hero. No villain. Just lives lost in a barren reality. This was the first film where I ever felt as if I were intruding on the characters. I purposely distracted myself at times to detach myself from the insanity. It was that serious. I’m not even sure what to think of someone who can watch experience this twice. But at the same time, I have to own this film. And you do too.
FYI: Gummo was one of the Marx Brothers. You already know…
Damn Brit, Bey’s back for the kill. Who’ll win better publicity – the consistency or the comeback?
Sparkling, lucid, naked. That’s the Britney I fell in love with. But is it too soon to applaud? I need more tangible signs of permanence. Addressing what the hell happened last year would help. For now though, my favorite white girl gets a nod and a post. I missed this bitch. I did.
was that the rumble of a new genesis? please let it be true. i can’t keep listening to ‘ladies first’ on repeat.
not bad kiddo, not bad.
when I don’t blog.
Jesse McCartney. Never cared for the lil rabbit, but ever since I interviewed him earlier this yr, he’s been surprising me with some random gifts. And they’re not the type you scoop. Peep below’s joint for instance. Dude’s covering T-Pain’s ‘Buy You A Drink’. That’s a bold look. A good look. Especially because JM’s satin vocals are a reminder that Teddy P has yet to convince me that he is a singer. But then again McCartney has yet to convince me that he is Timberlake. Hmm. Maybe power lies in what is not? Whatever the case, this is solid and dare I say inviting. Watch and pay me with thoughts.
[!] Have you ever seen more miserable back-up singers? Cheer up charlies, Justin will be on tour next year.
