It’s the first day of the 32-day blogathon that my friend Mamalicious! Asked me to be a part of and I’ve been racking my brain trying to think of something to put down. Although I know you guys thrill at me putting stuff down, I’m pretty sure that new people will be visiting the site and I’ll have to step my game up and put in more than, “Worked out today … feeling tired … more later.”
It’s like leaving a dirty house and inviting company over.
I’ll try to put something in fresh and exciting but between this and the book I’m starting, you might get some nuggets that sink like stones in their delivery.
With that disclaimer out of the way I thought I would start with the topic that black blogisphere wanted to touch on today (and every Friday): Black Music.
I specifically wanted to talk about the lack of quality lyrics in today’s black music. Now don’t get me wrong I just a week ago trumpeted the sheer joy of listening to music in a Strip Club because at times I really don’t want redeeming values in my music.
Watch Me Super Soak Dat (OH!)
I’ma Pass It To Arab
Then He Gon Pass It To The Low (Low)
That lyric is from the “poet” Soulja Boy who has let me (and millions people) know that its okay to cum on a woman’s back without her knowing so that her sheet sticks to back. I’m not a prude but knowing that bit of information while this song is being played at Professional, College and yes even High School Sporting events puts everything in focus.
I remember when I was younger and my sister and my mom loved Prince. One day she was playing the Purple Rain album and listening with my mom and I and having a good ol’ time.
Darling Nikki was playing at the time.
I knew a girl named nikki
I guess u could say she was a sex fiend
I met her in a hotel lobby
Masturbating with a magazine
She said howd u like 2 waste some time
And I could not resist when I saw little nikki grind
This never bothered my mother for some reason because she heard “worse” from Millie Jackson records.
This was the same woman who for her own Album cover (titled “Back to the Shit”) had her taking a squat on a toilet.
And People Talk About 50 Cent.
So while we “partying down” my father walks into the house and catches my moms reciting the lyrics of Darling Nikki.
“What the fuck?” My father screams.
“What?” My mom says seemingly shocked.
“What the hell are you doing singing about masterbating magazines?” He asked. “In front of the fucking kids!!”
The irony of my father cursing in front of me and my sister was lost on me until I got older. My father being the stern military man was okay with his kids listening to swear words, or watching violent movies was one thing … watching, talking or even looking at sex was another.
Did I mention that my father had his own porno stash hidden in the closet back then?
Okay so long story short because of that song my father literally banned the Purple Rain from the house. This included movies, posters from the movie … even pictures cut out from Right-On Magazine.
You know that’s fucked up when Right-On has to pay the price. But that was my father … he didn’t want to shield his kids from anything … except SEX.
Every time I watch an NBA game or like this event…
…I’m wondering if these folks have parents like I did. I can imagine my dad going ballistic over the song … but not for the use of SupaMan Dat Hoe (because quite honestly who would know that but freaks anyway) but rather for the word Hoe.
Then again my dad is old school … it probably would have flown over his head too.
Anyway I that is it for post number 1 of I hope will be some interesting posts.
Hell I got 31 one of these bad boys to go.
