SECRET LIVES of GHETTO CELEBS

March 10th, 2006

mannish

So NICOLE MITCHELL tells Essence ragazine that she didn’t know the full story about her man EDDIE MURPHY.

Meanwhile everybody in the ‘hood knew he was up to no good.

party all the time

Baseball Just Doesn’t Give a BUCK

March 10th, 2006

who gives a buck

L.M., P-City and TONY are the only losers readers visiting this crappy website that still care about beisbol so this post is for them. No brokeback, of course.

What is all of this noise about concerning JOHN JORDAN ‘BUCK’ O’NEIL and his omission from the Major League Basebal Hall of Fame. BUCK must have one of the best rabbis on his home team, because I have never seen the New York Times fellate a Black man this much since they pulled their silver spoons out for MALCOLM GLADWELL’s ballsachs. Although, since MALCOLM is a tragic mulatto I guess that doesn’t really count as Black then does it?

All this liberal boohooing and handwringing is coming from the very same sportswriters that have elected NOT to vote BUCK into baseball’s prestigious Hall of Fame. Well if all of you sage and just writers really wanted this old codger to be able to smell the roses while he was still breathing you would have voted for him. No sense in giving a Black any credit while they are alive anyhoo I guess. Just look at how 3-6-MAFIA acted.

GEORGE VECSEY waxed poetically about how the sky would have opened up and baseball might have finally exorcised all of the ghosts of greatness overlooked and most times outright denied.

GEORGE needs to stop smoking that WHITNEY HOUSTON, or to keep things in a baseball perspective, stop sniffing my man DWIGHT GOODEN’s white pudding. BUCK O’NEIL is a pioneer that’s for sure, and there are many other Negro Leaguers that played the greatest pasttime with verve and skill. The Hall of Fame should recognize all of the Negro League players. For a select few of them skin color was the least of their disabilities.


RONNY ‘TURKEY LEG’ JENKINS

the 1920 stars

RONALD JENKINS was from a small Tennessee coal mining town. At the age of 16 he lost part of his left leg in a mule cart accident, but that didn’t deter him from pursuing his dream of playing baseball. He fashioned a prosthetic limb for himself made with scrap wood from the dining room table in his parents’ house. He promised his parents that one day he would return to them with a new table so that they wouldn’t have to eat dinner sitting on the floor any longer.

turkey leg

RONNY was well known for his grace in the outfield, but it was his world class speed that would make him a Hall of Fame caliber Negro Leaguer. RONNY set records in the league for stolen bases during 4 consecutive seasons. He averaged more than 3 steals per game in three of those years. It wasn’t unreasonable for RONNY to score from first on an infield ground ball to the pitcher. RONNY would swipe third so often it was renamed ‘Turkey base’

turkey

Much fuss was made of the incident where RONNY’s prosthetic leg failed during a game and he had the wherewithall to hop all the way to home plate. RONNY played for the Detroit Stars for twelve years and he came to be regarded as one of the clutch players in the league. RONNY’s smooth style on the field was complemented by his grace off the field. After his retirement he became a local celebrity in the Detroit swingdancing scene.

turkey leg



EVERETT ‘BAT MAN’ BAILEY
bat man

Of all the unsung Negro League heroes the ‘BAT MAN’ is my personal favorite. He played for the Kansas City Monarchs during the same years as BUCK and SATCHEL PAIGE did. EVERETT was no ordinary ball player because he was completely blind. A childhood disease had robbed him of his eyesight, but not of his spirit or his will to play the game. EVERETT was Kansas City’s second best pitcher next to SATCHEL PAIGE

satch

You ask how Everett was able to pitch despite the fact that he was 100% blind and I tell you that he was a genius. LARRY BROWN, the great Negro League catcher would yell to EVERETT, telling him if the batter was left or right-handed, tall or short. All EVERETT had to do was rear back and release his fastball. What gave EVERETT an extra level of unorthodoxy was the fact that he would release the pitch as he jumped into the air.

bat man

Surprisingly enough, EVERETT had an extremely low rate of hit batsmen and a high number of strikeouts. Between EVERETT BAILEY and SATCHEL PAIGE you were lucky to get on base when you played the Monarchs. But the real reason that I liked the ‘BAT MAN’ so much was because he was a prolific hitter. The ‘BAT MAN’ hit over .400 for his career. Can you imagine how good he might have been if he could have seen the ball?!?

bat man

The ‘BAT MAN’ used the son of the team’s equipment manager as his assistant. He trained his ears to respond to only that voice in a crowded ballpark of thousands, maybe millions. The young man would scream out two words descriptions of the pitches that were being hurled and with that information the ‘BAT MAN’ was able to make contact with the ball. Getting around the bases was another issue and the ‘BAT MAN’ was usually replaced with a pinch runner after he had stumbled to first base and the play had been stopped. That is why the rule exists today that when a player is replaced by a pinch runner he has to leave the game.

It’s not as though I am hating on BUCK O’NEIL its just that there are many players from the Negro Leagues that have left an indelible mark on this game The fact that there aren’t too many Blacks who are into baseball now is another reason that I am loathe to bequeath an honor upon another jig sportsman. If BUCK O’NEIL could bring some of that crap music jig bling money into the stadiums then maybe it would be fine to put him in the Hall.

As it stands I do think that BUCK does deserve some kind of recognition for living to be 94 years old in racist azz Jim Crow Missouri.

buck

HOE SIT DOWN!

March 9th, 2006

broketitty mountains

VIVICA ANJANETTA FOX done broke her new titties already. And how does that shit happen?!? When you won’t stay your azz home for a minute. VIVICA be at every premiere party she can go to meanwhile she hasn’t done any real work since forever. I think I just saw ‘Two Can Play That Game’ on B.E.T. for the fifty-eleventh time!

I met VIVICA about 10 years ago at the Memorial Day jig festival in Cancun Mexico. She is a down azz bitch if there was ever one in Hollywood. Just funny and foul mouthed. VIVICA is a cutie-pie, but she is also a bonafide hoodrat. The only way you would take her to meet your momma is if your moms smoked a pack of Newport ay’day and drunk Colt45 from a tall can with a straw.

broketitty mountains

anja and iman

fishlips

anjanetta

soul train

Because I love you VIVICA and I know how real you used to be I have to give you this advice…

HOE SIT DOWN! And give your damn tittie bags a rest.

broketitty mountains

TEARS Of A CLONE

March 9th, 2006

attack of the clones

News Update: Iraq is still fucked the fuck up!

The mainstream news machine has been ridiculously quiet about the goings on inside of Iraq, but you can best believe that we here at the website are going to look for the truth. It’s out there, but we don’t think anybody can handle it. The truth about Iraq tastes like a cod liver oil pill the size of a walnut. I suggest that you get a glass of water, better still a tumbler filled with Jack.

Let’s take a look at our world…

If you know anybody serving in the Armed Forces overseas you should be looking to find their spouse back here in the states someone new. They won’t be coming home anytime soon. The civil war in Iraq between the turtlenecks and the turbans has completely spiraled out of control. Mercenaries are running amok as these two religious sects duke it out for control of the country. Our troops danger level has risen exponentially because they are still preceived as the ‘other’ by both those in the new government and the insurgents. If you try to find credible information on the mounting U.S. casualties you get a lot of dead air. The Associated Press guestimates that 2,300 Americans have died in the conflict. That number meshes with the Defense Department. The Defense Dept. also adds another 200 or so soldiers to the tally from Afghanistan.

The casualty number for Afghanistan was lowered by 1 soldier when the Army classified PAT TILLMAN’s death as a criminally negligent homicide. I am not exactly sure what this means for the value of his Arizona Cardinals trading card. I am betting that the card is worth bupkus now since TILLMAN’s cap wasn’t peeled by Al-Queda operatives. You already know how this administration likes to blame the victims when its an incident of ‘friendly fire’. Poor PAT TILLMAN got ‘Cheneyed’ by someone in his own platoon.

Speaking of the Administration…
The invertabrates that some of you call senators are giving the president a hard time about the sweetheart deal that he set up for his Arab cousins. I don’t want to turn this post into some crackpot conspiracy theorist rant, but honestly, these dudes have made a grip for themselves by being quiet cowards. Why do they want me to believe that they are interested in protecting the people all of a sudden?!? I guess if a hurricane breaks up some ports, terminals and levees its okay, but whoa, we gotta protect ourselves from these Arabs. The best part of this story is that the Brit news is reporting the story as Republican infighting. We can only pray…

I will be praying that this impasse with Tehran doesn’t escalate any further. I understand that Iran still has a chip on their shoulder since the RONALD RAYGUN days, but like my man RODNEY KING said, “Can I gets a twenty bag of that crank pardna?” The way to end this argument between the U.S. and Iran would be if the two nations would be willing to share the profits from the opium trade equally. Its not like we can’t afford to kickback a few bucks to Tehran anyhoo since we get to keep all the money that we make in Afghanistan. Russia needs to get their priorities straightened out too. If they won’t recognize where their bread is buttered we should stop sending rolls of toilet paper over there until they get their mind right. I’m just saying…

If anybody in the armed forces reads this blog (and I doubt that since I know all 8 of my readers) I wish peace upon you and I pray for your godspeed return to your family, but if you knew what I knew you might think you were safer in Iraq.

All Day I Dream About Sneakers…

March 9th, 2006

forest hills

When I had noticed that I was no longer the first person that the swoosh brand was checking for my feelings were a little hurt. I mean. hadn’t we done big things together? I still keep a copy of the love letter I sent to Beaverton, begging her to bring back the Dunk style. She was only interested in Jordan fans now and giving Air Force 1’s to undeserving rap artists. Where were these dudes when the Air Train was on the streets? I bet none of them knew you for your wild beauty during the Air Tech Challenge ’90 years. But there I was kicked to the curb, while some newjack rookies received all of your attentions.

I was holding on even though it was obvious that you were going in another direction. I wasn’t ready to share my heart again after so many years. Who would want my love anyway. Everybody wants someone that is younger and more beautiful than the next. My young, beautiful days were well beyond me now. I thought that I would just go to PayLess and settle down. Forget about what used to be and just be happy with the memories of the good times.

During the summer I bumped into a pair of leather ROD LAVERs and they told me that the three stripes brand was looking for a committment from an older guy. I admit that I was intrigued. The three stripes had the classic Forum in a New York state colorway that was my 1986 Shea Stadium workshoe. It was comfortable as all get out and that helped me scale the steep upper mezzanine seats with my Harry M. Stevens propaganda. So I visited the three stripes and we started dating a bit. I liked the way the three stripes reflected on their history. I thought that it was a real appreciation of the past, but I soon found out it was just a facade. The past was used just for exploitation without any serious reverence for the journey. I had traveled all the way to Paris in seach of the navy/burgundy ILIE NASTASE. Instead I found only disappointment.

I was prepared to go on now alone because there is no way in hell I would ever touch the apartheid supporters again. As soon as I had been told that Reebok’s Union Jack insignia was becaue of their support from South Africa I never again purchased a pair of the sneakers.

I rode the Metro to Les Halles to satisfy my heart with a delicious freshly prepared raspberry Gran Marnier crepe. As I walked through the courtyard I saw so many happy kids wearing their Dub-Zeros and the latest Jordan retros that were flooding the streets. As I walked past the most non-descript boutique I could hear a Wu-Tang baseline pulsating from the open door. I curiously looked inside just to see what a Parisian boutique that features Wu-Tang would sell.

The store was filled with NIKE Dunks. It was visually exhilarating to see all of these sneakers at once. There were colors that I hadn’t seen in America since the mid-eighties. The Michigan Wolverine’s high tops, the Iowa Hawkeyes, Kentucky Wildcats, the Ohio State, Syracuse’s orange and white. It brought back memories of heaven. When I went to the Latin Quarter I used to wear one Wildcat dunk on one foot and one Syracuse Dunk on the other foot. A fringe benefit from working at Shea Stadium was that I had ‘found’ several authentic Mets jerseys and caps because I was enterprising like that. My orange and blue color coordination was a favorite of those in my crew and the haters prah’lee felt a kind of way too, but we had too much posse for my mix match Dunks and my Mets gear to be an issue.

So even though the swoosh brand had apparently moved on it was obvious that she still had affections for me and she remembered all the good times that we shared. I decided that I could live with being her ‘old school john’ because she still knew how to make me feel like a million bucks when we were together.

Just don’t step on my feets when you see me in the streets.

One Hundred.

undefeated