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DP Dot Com Super Heroine Series: STORM

Wednesday, September 5th, 2007

halle

HALLE BERRY: On a mission to single-handedly ruin the notion of Black superheroines.

Ororo Munroe was the first Black superheroine I ever fell in love with. Prior to her they didn’t exist in comicdom. Okay, there was Misty Knight, but she didn’t have any super powers, she just was sick with the karate kick. Storm was this bad azz chick who didn’t take any shorts. You never saw her curled up in the fetal position when shit got thick. The best thing about Storm was that she was a natural leader.

Most times when you see a powerful female character in the comic books they usually always subject themselves to the leadership of the male characters. For example, Wonder Woman was always taking orders from Superman and Batman, even though she could have prah’lee kicked both their asses at the same time. Lord knows she could have definitely handled them both simultaneously on some d.p. shit. She was an Amazon for chrissakes!

Storm wasn’t taking a backseat to anyone either. She was hardbody enough to order Wolverine around, and he respected her for that too. Storm represented for all the Black sisters that were getting theirs in the world and kept their hairstyle any way they pleased.

storm ms.marvel

Nevermind that Storm had a relaxer, she still put in work for the Black people when there was a dearth of Black characters in comics to begin with. Who did Marvel and D.C. think were buying these gotdamned books?!? White kids didn’t need no superheroes like Black kids did. Shit, white had their faces on the money I bought my comics with. What’s more powerful than working your ass off all week at your paper route so that you could reach in your pocket and ask some white people to help get you some new comics and a lunch from McDonald’s?

What is this next shit about Storm marrying Black Panther? That is some bullshit. I wanted Storm and Forge to have kids and Black Panther to bang out Ms.Marvel. This way their progeny could increase the number of Black superhero babies. Storm and Black Panther, both being first generation African immigrants is too fucking easy, although I once dated a chick from South Africa and she smelled a kind of way. Maybe Africans are the only people that can stomach the smell of other Africans. Who knew?

All I know is that if I have to watch another X-Man movie with waify, bitch ass HALLE BERRY as Storm I will fucking protest that shit so hard they will have to release it straight to DVD. Bad enough that HALLE BERRY can’t act for shit, she looks like a little boygirl.

Storm is a fucking goddess!

angela bassett

Posted in Black Bullshit, Fanboy Ish, Fashion Faux Pas, Lust = Love, The Addict, When I Reminisce... | 24 Comments »

VOTE FOR PEDRO! OBAAMA, NOT SO MUCH…

Tuesday, September 4th, 2007

PEDRO MARTINEZ didn’t return to the Mets in time to same my fantasy baseball squad from being mired in mediocrity, but his return might just be the medicine that heals the reeling Metropolitans.

Mets 10 – Reds 4

The Mets haven’t been the dominant National League team that I expected them to be when the season began. Sure CARLOS BELTRAN, JOSE REYES and DAVID WRIGHT are All-Stars, but the rest of the team lack the fire that you see with champion clubs. I think that PEDRO MARTINEZ is more than simply one of the best pitchers of all time, but a presence inside of the clubhouse that motivates younger players and relaxes veterans.

He’s also the lynchpin of the DP Dot Com retirement portfolio. If I don’t sell some of these gotdamned t-shirts I may end up eating ALPO instead of Libby’s corned beef hash (some would argue that they are one in the same, but the Libby’s price point is higher and taste better. Trust me). This is where y’all come in.

By purchasing a DP Dot Com ‘Vote For Pedro’ t-shirt you will be contributing to my 2040 presidential campaign. I figure by that time this country will be ready to elect a formerly cocaine addicted alcoholic, who just happens to be Black. Your contribution of twenty dollars will allow DP Dot Com to continue to operate as a watchdog for social justice and fashion trends (read: pay my monthly Optimum Online bill). I have only three(3) ‘Vote For Pedro’ shirts left in stock. They are all sized XXL, and I’m not talking about the magazine.

DP Dot Com Political Advisor
I’d buy one to support Dallas Penn. Hell, I’d buy two and sew them together so that I could wear it.

If I used to smoke crills, and now I’m considered mainstream, why can’t Dallas Penn make it to the White House?

Posted in Black Bullshit, Fashion Faux Pas, Ghetto Celebs, No Boutros Boutros... Ghali, Social Upheaval, Sports are Gay, The MGMT | 3 Comments »

SNEAKER FIENDS UNITE!

Monday, September 3rd, 2007

fdg

DALLAS PENN, is washed the fuck up!

This young tenderoni cutie approached me at the West Indian Day Parade and asked me if I was ESKAY. Lil’ mama said she saw me on the iNternets Celebrities videos posted up at Nah’Right. She is also a writer, and a blogger, and she just wanted to tell me that Nah’Right was the most important Hip-Hop site in the world.

Now if I had any ROBERT SYLVESTER in my style I would have told her that I was ESKAY, and if she wanted to intern for me all she had to do was let me put my tongue in her tender mouth, but your boy DP ain’t grimey like that for a French kiss.

fdg

Plus shorty was officially repping Trinidad with a pair of customized Dunk Lo’s. Any chick with this amount of style gets my respect even if she don’t know my name. Somebody needs to stop by her blog ‘Fantasy Dopegirl‘ though, and let her know who we be.

fdg

Posted in Black Bullshit, Fashion Faux Pas, Ghetto Celebs, iNternets Celebrities, Sneaker Fiends United, T.O.N.Y., The Addict | 21 Comments »

CHOCOLATE SNOWFLAKE’s LABOR OF LOVE…

Monday, September 3rd, 2007

Every Labor Day millions of people descend on my neighborhood to celebrate the Caribbean tradition of Carnival.

masquerader

Between the music, the costumes, the food and the all-around good time, it’s easy to forget that Labor Day is a moment of reflection — one day out of 365 — in which we recognize how much we owe to those that came before us, those that stand beside us and those to whom the debt of our labors is passed on.

Of course there are official Labor Day parades in most cities and towns which celebrate the achievements and contributions of working people. But there are others — mothers, fathers, relatives, friends and neighbors — who bear the weight of carrying forward the social and cultural values that invisibly shape so much of our daily lives.

Creating and raising a family — no matter how you define it, whether it be inherited or selected — is work. There is no parents’ union to collect dues and make sure the love, care, attention, hope, faith and hard work that is put into the next generation pays off. There is also no question that someone, somewhere, cared enough about you and your future to invest in your wellbeing. If there were no such person, you would not be reading this blog right now, nor would I be writing it.

So I encourage everyone to make the time — today, or tomorrow, but don’t wait too long — to let the people who nurture, support, feed, and care for you know that you appreciate their presence in your life and value their labor.

It’s amazing how often we forget to say thank you, and how much it means when we do.

mum and pee

Posted in Black Bullshit, Fashion Faux Pas, Ghetto Celebs, Jig Lit Review, No Boutros Boutros... Ghali, T.O.N.Y., The Guest Room | 5 Comments »

A LETTER FROM THE MANAGEMENT

Monday, September 3rd, 2007

Jou’vert is Hard Body!

For DP Dot Com’s new year on the air I thought we’d go in hard talking about GOD, girls and the planet of Brooklyn. Two years ago GOD visited America disguised as an angry Black bitch of a storm named Katrina. She kicked ass too because the Middle Passage was fucked the fuck up like that. Katrina was letting fools know that motherfuckers owe biggtime for all the people that didn’t survive the three months at sea sleeping in their vomit, piss, shit and tears. Katrina made America look every which way like a two bit third world country. At least in Haiti the people are hardbody enough to change presidents.

Sa pase ozetazini?

A shout goes out to my Haitian massive readers this Labor Day, as well as all the displaced, Hebrews, Africans and Blacks in general. Whether your displacement was in 1605 or 2005, at the end of the day it was always all about the benjamins.

Guess who hasn’t slept since Saturday nite?

And then I only napped for a few hours.

Labor Day weekend is when I go hard for the crown and this year is no different. C.S. and I saw two movies at the multi-plex (I fucks with this shit called ‘Sunshine’, not so much for ‘Balls of Fury’). Then we drove to Woodstock to chill at the weekend crib of C.S.’s big homey, Mrs.JEAN-MARIE. Came back to the city and went to Manahatta and then the Prince versus MICHAEL JACKSON throw down. Stopped by PathMark to pick up some lamb chops. I dropped C.S. off at the crib and then I went to RippleBar to get my Jou’vert started off right (shouts to the RippleBar regulars).

Jou’vert is one of my all time favorite New York City traditions. This is the real West Indian Day parade. That shit that happens during the daytime is actually just the residual after-party. For the several hours during Jou’vert the entire Brooklyn goes 7:30. People are naked and rubbing one another in a massive orgy of painted on, sweat drenched drunken bodies. If someone told me that during these times is when the conception rate and murder rate both jumped in Brooklyn I wouldn’t doubt it. With all the spirits being summoned to the corners of Empire Boulevard and Flatbush Avenue I know something freaky is going down. That’s why I go there.

DP Dot Com isn’t a real photoblog, because I ain’t a real photographer so forgive me if I don’t take the best pictures. Keep in mind that I am drunk and ready to fall on my ass from jumping and skipping all night. These are the times when a bump of that yayze could keep me rocking out until Wednesday. That sugarcane shit ain’t for me no more, but I will always fucks with Caribbean Day…