super bowl slut

trace — Mon, 02 Feb 2009 18:55:56 +0000

I have never watched more than 20 minutes of a football game. Was never too crazy of what seemed like some heavy-handed homoeroticism. I love watching men makeout, but something about ball-pinchingly-tight uniformed men flopping on top of each other, just never really did it for me.

Until yesterday!

I wanted to be somebody’s freaking jock strap. Who would’ve thought locs would look so delectable under a helmet. Shoot, can I get tackled? Sign me up for a scrimmage!

cupid’s bent arrow

trace — Wed, 28 Jan 2009 23:25:03 +0000

man (5:40:09 PM): i think bout givin it to u evveery dayyyy
woman (5:43:51 PM): every day?
woman (5:44:03 PM): hmmm…
woman(5:44:16 PM): thats a lot of days
man (5:54:40 PM): i know
woman (5:56:36 PM): tsk tsk tsk
man (5:57:05 PM): dont u think bout it
woman (5:57:40 PM): i get wet everytime i think about the nights we used to have…
woman (5:58:43 PM): but then i remember you have a girlfriend and realize im playing myself and i dry the hell up

hysterical ignorance at it’s lowest

trace — Sat, 24 Jan 2009 18:51:52 +0000

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

nutella whore

trace — Fri, 23 Jan 2009 04:59:46 +0000

Dear Nutella,

I know last night wasn’t new – another strike for me, another score for you – but these gooey palatable sins have got to swallow themselves into nonexistence, because quite frankly, my thighs can’t handle it anymore. Yes, we can agree that I sought you out, undressed you with my eyes, whatever. But you seduced me. And how could I resist. That dark sticky hazelnut skin, those creamy saccharine globs of brown. Goddamn. I would spread your triple thick chocolateyness all over my lips, morning, noon and night if could. But I can’t. The gym is far, and well, you’re just not worth the trip. I’d ask for one last taste, but we both know where that would lead. So it’s best we stop now. Forgive me.

Sincerely,

trace

my kind of wonderful

trace — Tue, 20 Jan 2009 02:22:49 +0000

dear, nikki farquharson

you’re the shit.

sincerely, trace

umm…

trace — Tue, 20 Jan 2009 02:09:05 +0000

does this make anyone else feel ridiculously uncomfortable?

Thank God for Underage First Kids

trace — Mon, 19 Jan 2009 22:07:55 +0000

The more I think about Obama’s presidency, the more I believe in destiny. All the way down to the elementary age of his Black beauties, Sasha & Malia. I can’t imagine how frantic my mind would be if these girls were in their teens. Photos of them hugging up on rappers, rumors of sloppy pregnancies, high school beer binging…Black America wouldn’t be able to handle it. So to the Almighty One – thank you : )

the year of the Black fist

trace — Mon, 19 Jan 2009 19:54:56 +0000

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.

to the beat of your own (taiko) drum

trace — Fri, 16 Jan 2009 05:20:10 +0000

If you didn’t know, trace is bisexual, but if there were any man to spin me straight, it would be yeezy. below is exactly a bit of what i’d been trying to tell people during the original 808s hate. However, here it is coming directly from the source’s mouth via this month’s VIBE. Please don’t give Kanye a flute, the kids will disappear.

“I put “Love Lockdown” originally off-pitch to prove a point about life, about religion, about relationships. People always try to be so fucking perfect, and I think that there’s some beauty in imperfection. People should embrace their flaws…your grandmother wasn’t perfect, but you still love her.”

“There’s guys out there, nobody spoke on our behalf before. Whatever about the singing. Fuck all the singing, fuck the Auto-Tune. fuck the He’s a rapper, he’s not a rapper, he’s going through something, he has to get this out of his system, he’s crazy. Fuck all that. It’s men out there who have never had anyone to speak on their behalf about the way they feel in a relationship…we feel hurt…we feel pain. That more than anything – more than the way I wanted to deliver this art – is the message behind it.”

Beyonce’s worst song, period.

trace — Tue, 13 Jan 2009 21:06:17 +0000

Okay, maybe it’s not so much Beyonce as it is Sasha. But either way “Diva” is bloated with lines of pander I just can’t bear to swallow. All the elements of Sasha’s usual recipe for female empowerment are there: a glaze of androgynous attitude, spurts of shameless ‘I’m that chick’ plugs and of course a friday night groove. Only thing is this time I’ve been fed too much. The rehashed cliches are strikingly substandard from the Fierce I used to know, and as a friend of mine said, “this is her lowest common denominator shit ever”. Word. I mean heavy rotation works for this song, but such was the same for “Sexy Can I”. And we all know that hit was sugared in shit.