It is going down so crazy on FaceBook right now you can’t even imagine. It’s like the BlackPlanet all over again, except these chicks have all their teeth in their mouth. Check out shorty here from one of the design houses on Fashion Avenue here in New York City. She looks like she can work a pole a lil’ somethin’ too.
She must get it from her momma. I need to holla at ol’ girl and see what is really poppin’, although when a grown ass woman is looking this good I already know that I don’t have the paper to keep the Botox bubblin’.
When the i.C.’s win, the internets wins. That is our motto. We try to take you in with us whether we win or lose. We won last week when Vh-1 granted us press credentials for their annual Hip-Hop Honors awards show.
Rafi and I both manage respectively popular websites that show the utmost love to Hip-Hop as a cultural artform. We are both Hip-Hop representatives in our own rights. How could we NOT be invited to attend this celebration? Very easily. While I had been invited to access the red carpet and press events at last years awards show I had not been extended an invite to this years’ jumpoff. Could it be that the t.I.’s at Viacom had finally gotten around to reading my scathing diatribes on their programming?
Since I promised Rafi that we would be up in this event I had to scramble to get us some kind of access to the party. I reached out to my last connect at Viacom and she directed me to complete a last minute credential request. The i.C.’s were approved, but only for a three man crew. Back in the days of Ghetto Big Mac and Bodega this would have been acceptable, but ever since the Sundance Film Festival we have grown into a filmmaking production house collective. Basically, I needed another pass for our stalwart editor and occasional cameraman T-Bone [ll].
Up until the day of the event I had not been confirmed for all of us to have access. No matter, we still went ahead and met up on the corner of 34th Street and Eighth Avenue. Caz and T-Bone had conferred on which equipment to bring and they were definitely on point. Rafi came through and brought the energy and the swagger in a sharp pinstriped suit. I rocked a tight-fitting sportsjacket and one of my Oh Word J-Dilla tribute tees. For good luck Rafi and I both sported the iNTERNETS CELEBRITIES Nike Dunks.
After a few minutes of deliberation we were issued press credentials for the entire crew. Raf, Cas, T and me immediately ran down to the red carpet to see what work was left for us to put in. The scene was mad hectic and tons of people were already firmly entrenched on the carpet’s press platform. Shouts go out to Agent B for providing us with the logo for the i.C. microphone flag. i.C. is so wonderfully bootlegg and maybe that is why we are so Hip-Hop. Nobody in the press area had ever heard of the i.C. before then. They will definitely remember us after that day. Kerri Washington will remember that I called her Megan Goode and I will remember that she called me a sweaty, fat man. That was one of the greatest moments of my life. She and Eve might be the single prettiest women that I have ever been within five feet of.
Another adventure of ours for that evening was trying to find the press room that had been set up inside of the venue. After walking through several stairwells and labyrinths we arrived at what we thought was media Nirvana. The press room was stocked with all kinds of free food and beverages. All the free Red Bull drinks you could want. Rafi and I then found the crafts services zone with hot food. Collard greens were dripping from my chin. I was a beast. This right here could have been the end of the line for us but I didn’t want to leave anything on the table, literally or figuratively. If Rafi came all the way down to the city to party, and T was carrying around this gotdamn big ass camera, and Cas was text messaging his lady there was no way I wasn’t gonna try to get us as close to the stage as possible.
We descended into the stairwells again and this time we actually found heaven in the form of the Vh-1 V.I.P. lounge. Free booze and premium hors d’oeurves were set before us. This was where we finally gave ourselves the Team Chea toast. This moment was what I had bathed for earlier that day. I suppose we could have stayed in the VIP lounge and enjoyed the unlimited drinks, but there was still more to see and more to do. We took our final descent onto the floor of the Hammerstein ballroom for the Tribe Called Quest tribute. The performance was one of my favorite all time Hip-Hop moments.
When the i.C.’s win, the internets wins.
You guys won.
Peep the i.C.’s video diary of the 2007 Vh-1 Hip-Hop Honors awards before Viacom does that Illuminati bullshit and makes YouTube disable the video link.
Editor’s note: Average Bro is not your average weblog. There’s insight and witticisms that extend to all kinds of social topics. I love the articles about why ROBERT SYLVESTER isn’t already in jail and what the fuck our kids are listening to in their iPods? I lifted this drop from his site to give you a taste of his flavor[ll].
“SuperManning That Ho!” (aka: Do You Really Know What’s In Your Child’s iPod?!?)
My disdain for ringtone rap music is well documented, so I probably just missed this one simply because I haven’t ever listened to more than 4-5 seconds of Soulja Boy’s ‘Crank Dat’. I guess I just value my brain cells far too much. For those of you familiar with this song this probably won’t be much of a surprise, but I ran across an article this morning that examined the song’s lyrics in depth and I couldn’t believe something so profane is being played over the airwaves.
Peep the lyrics yourself. The hook, which is about the only semi-intelligible thing in the entire song, goes a lil’ somethin’ like this:
Soulja Boy Off In This Ho
Watch Me Crank It
Watch Me Roll
Watch Me Crank Dat Soulja Boy
Then Super Man Dat Ho
Now Watch Me Do
(Crank Dat Soulja Boy)
Now Watch Me yua!
(Crank Dat Soulja Boy)
Now Watch Me yua!
If you’re like me, you’re probably wondering what the heck “SuperManning That Ho” entails. A quick Google of this term pulled up this very crude entry in the Urban Dictionary*. AverageBro.com is for the chill’ren, so I’m not going to bother cut and pasting the definition of “SuperManning That Ho” on this family friendly site. Let’s just say it makes the term “Skeet Skeet” sound like a nursery rhyme by comparison.
*Editor’s note: DP Dot Com is also for the children, but we believe that the children should be properly informed about everything. The Urban Dictionary quoth: “When you’re doing a girl doggy style, pull out, and cum on her back/ass. When she tells you to wipe it off, you pretend to, and when she wakes up, she has the bed sheets stuck to her back like supermans cape.”
Last week, I posted a clip of an obviously talented young kid stepping to the song “Wipe Me Down”. When a person purporting to be the child’s father visited the site, he left a scathing comment that set off a flurry of replies; many questioned me for being so critical, and some questioned the father’s sanity for posting a video of his kid dancing to a strip club anthem.
I have yet to hear back from the father, but if he’d like me to modify the post, I’d be more than willing. Chances are this clip was probably a family joke that someone irresponsibly got ahold of and threw on Youtube for the whole world (13,000 viewers and counting in just one week) to gawk at. I refuse to believe any rational and sane father would put his kid out there like that. For playing my part in such rank exploitation of a minor, I sincerely apologize. Hit me up if you want me to edit the post, but I’d suggest you get it off the rest of the internet too while you’re at it.
This whole thing has me wondering if people, especially parents, really know what these kids nowadays are listening to. If so, does it really matter anyway? My nephew, much to my chagrin, knows the dance as well as all the words to “Soulja Boy”. While I cry inside everytime I see him perform this, he’s a pretty sheltered 11-year old, so I wonder how much the whole concept of “SuperManning That Ho” goes right over his head. I don’t really worry about him turning out bad, after all, he is a straight-A private school student from a supportive two-parent household. Kinda, sorta… well, heck, just like I was as a tween’ listening to Too Short and the Too Live Crew, who were hardly Disney-friendly themselves. Judging by the daily readership here at AB.com, I’d say I turned out relatively well, so what’s to say he won’t?
Think about it. Are today’s “Aunt Jackie” and “Ay Bay Bay” really much worse than yesterdays “The Rappin’ Duke” and “The Pee Wee Herman“. Then again, those artists weren’t getting 6,500 spins a week, but hey, what do I know?
I guess rap lyrics, despite how profane, only can truly taint a certain impressionable segment of the population. And hey let’s face, that segment of the population is already eff’ed the eff’ up anyway. Hurricane Chris is merely proverbial icing on the shitcake of life for these kids. Cleaning up (c)rap music won’t improve their fortunes any more than firing Don Imus improved the fortunes of black women. Societal problems are far more complex to trivialize and pin on something so superficial as the words of an 18 year old. So while I sure as hell won’t be letting my son listen to “SuperManning That Ho” (yes, I am reusing that phrase on purpose) anytime soon, it’s probably not fair of me to judge others just because they allow their kids to.
Live and let live. I guess you could say this was an epiphany of sorts.
Reality is, bad parenting and poor education pose far bigger threats to our community than Soulja Boy’s ‘Crank Dat’. Maybe that’s why as much as BET bugs me, I’d much rather use my limited time and energy tutoring, mentoring, and coaching our next generation of young leaders than getting all in a tizzy over 106th and Park.
Then again, this is just one black man’s opinion. And you know what they say about those.
Bonus Beats: For the unfamiliar, here’s the music video to Soulja Boy’s song, thankfully minus a graphic demonstration of ‘SuperManning That Ho’.
And they say Hip-Hop Is Dead. I’d say “Hip-Hop is a rotting, stank, decomposed corpse of it’s former self” is probably a bit more accurate.
What you wanna do? You wanna be a baller, brawler or shot caller?
It’s that time again to tally up the cRapper rosters for the final quarter of 2007. This is big dog status in the music biz time. You better have at least Fisty Scent and Ghey-Z on your squads boys and girls because those are the niggas that bring in the money during this time of the year.
It seems like the Kangaye luster is starting to wane now. Ha, I said Wayne. No Lil’ Wang to me saying Wayne, but you might want to have Lil’ Wang on your roster for this quarter too. That nigga IS the best cRapper alive.
For those of you playing the cRap Music Fantasy league for the first time allow me to give you a quick guide to help you plot out your label’s roster of cRappers. Each player of the cRap Music Fantasy League is a record label owner. Each label has a roster of only eight(8) entertainers. You have to select one(1) R&B sanger and at least one(1) female cRapper. As a label owner you may select ANY cRappers you choose to be on your label, but choose your cRappers smartly based on their likelihood of producing points for your label during the 4th quarter (October 1 – December 31, 2007).
The way that cRappers score points in the cRap Music Fantasy League is of course by the traditional methods of releasing records, selling those records, creating music videos and other noteworthy press events like awards and citations. Because our game deals with the cRap music aspect of entertainment your artists can score points in other ways as well. By being arrested, indicted and convicted of crimes your cRappers can earn points for your label. If your artist appears on Oprah your label scores points too. Heaven forbid any artist should get merc’ked during quarter 4, but if one does while they are part of your label you get a whole lot of points. As the great J to the mwuah [ll] once said, “You know dead cRappers get better promotion.”
So here’s all you need to do to get started in the registration process of the cRap Music Fantasy League…
1) Create a name for your record label
2) Select your eight(8) individual artists
2a) Remember to have one(1) R&B artist, and at least one(1) female rapper
How simple is that? If you’re still a little confused then let some of the veterans of the game put in their selections so that they can show you how to do this son. The registration period ends on Sunday so bookmark this link and come thru later this weekend after you’ve gotten your mind right. Your registration will be confirmed by e-mail.
Oh and by the way, the winner of the cMFL gets a FREE pair of exclusive Nike kicks from DallasPenn Dot Com.
* POINT SCORING UPDATE *
Your label may also score points if your cRapper receives an RIAA gold/platinum certification for a ringtone, or if he/she creates a YouTube dance craze.
