Showing posts with label Angelina Jolie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Angelina Jolie. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Since We're in the Mood for Change....

Hey guys, so I don't know if you heard, but America has a black president. He's really into change--and not in the begging-for-it-like-a-hobo kind of way. He's about making ish different the world over.

So, in that vein, I have a thought: why don't rich and famous white folks stop adopting brown children and go get some white babies? Seriously. I was kicking it in the Broadway Mall in Sydney and saw the cutest brown baby with his white mom (he called her mama, I'm not assuming). For some reason it got me thinking about how, when a white person adopts a child of another race, they are seen as extra-giving and self-less. But what about those white folks who live in poverty? Poverty breeds hate which leads to the dark side. Perhaps if we took some poor white folks out of their backwoods homes, there'd be fewer KKK members.

My plan is to get Brad and Angie to adopt some poor white babies from right here in America, cause nothing teaches cross-cultural acceptance like having siblings straight out of a United Colors of Benetton catalogue. Since Brad's stopped returning my calls, and Angie's mad cause I told her to get someone to handle Zahara's head, I'm going to just write an open letter. Here goes...

Dear Brangelina,

Hey guys, it's me, Blacktress! How are you doing? Brad, I was totes about you in The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, but I found the trope of the 'magical negro' to be off putting. At first I thought it was just F. Scott Fitzgerald, but it turns out the short story had no negroes at all, let alone magical ones! You got a black baby now, stop perpetuating stereotypes!!

Anyway, that's not what I'm writing about. I'm writing because you guys love adopting babies. Angie loves walking around with a baby on each hip and two on each side, much like a glamorous childcare worker. However, you seem to adopt brown babies only. While this is all well and good, there are several white children in our fair country that could use some wealth and the education that it brings. Brangie, what about going into some rural areas and picking up some kids who are 12 years old and still can't read? What about asking some angry racist white folks if you can borrow their babies for 18 years, and then sending their children back armed with knowledge of Vietnamese, African, and Cambodian culture? I'd love to turn to Page Six and see a glamour shot of a former farmhand turning his KKK robes into a dashiki while braiding Zahara's hair.

So, um, yeah, that's just what I'm wondering. How are things? Angie, you're looking a little rough around the edges, boo. No matter how rich you are, you can't raise 6 kids and make it through the day. I loved you in The Changeling, but I am wondering if maybe you need a kid or two to disappear just to take the edge off. Actually, give me the white twins. I'll have them coming back reading Audre Lorde and "See Spot Run When Your Eyes Are Done Watching God"--it's Zora Neale Hurston for kids. Expect it in fall 2009.

Okay, well, I hope you take my lesson to heart. I've got a list of some towns you can start in when you're ready.

xoxo,
Blacktress!

What do you think? Is this the kind of change we can believe in?

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Happy Birthday to My Favorite Boo Who I Don't Know!!

As you know, I'm from the future, and today is January 8th. Yesterday, BCB came over with some gossip magazines to help keep me busy while I try to avoid becoming an amputee, and I flipped through one just to see what's happening in the celebrity world. I was checking out celebrity birthdays, and was surprised to see ZAHARA JOLIE-PITT listed.

YES, SHE HAS MADE IT!!!

I am obsessed with Zahara Jolie-Pitt, and the fact that she is Brad's favorite. The first time I saw Benjamin Button holding that black baby, my ovaries jumped, and I knew my world would never be the same again.



SWOON!!!!!




Although I do get worried about Zahara's hair (Angie, I know you can afford a braider), and hope she doesn't grow up with any self-loathing or inferiority complexes, I have high hopes for ZJP. I see a collabo with Oprah, perhaps a few excellent black power books-- maybe even a tell-all in the vein of Mommy Dearest.

Look at that cute face! I bet Angie thought she got off easy when Zahara was all bald and whatnot--No, Angie, get homegirl some Just for Me or get a pocket African to handle her scandal!


What I love most about her is the alter-ego Sallie Sellasie, as outed by SCAN--The Secret Council of American Negroes.

"Sojourner, what is this 'Secret Council of American Negroes', and why haven't you told me about it sooner?" You may be wondering.

Listen, Caucasia (you know you are), I can't give away everything. Although the blacklash is still here, I want to try to keep some things incognegro, in hopes that they will one day accept me as one of their own. But the truth of Zahara and her power cannot be denied. F Oprah, Tyra, and Halle--it's Zahara who is making things happen--and homegirl is still rocking Pull-Ups!

Check out my favorite quote from her work in the field as secret agent Sally Selassie:

Sally:
We're OK to talk. I hotwired my Play Skool phone for Wi Fi. The Man suspects nothing. As always. The Woman, she is suspicious, but has no proof. She almost found last month's communique so I had to cram it down the toilet to cover my tracks. Things got messy, but I was able to blame it all on Pax. The woman totally gave me a look that said she knew I was lying, yet she punished Pax anyway. As if that would break me. I'm from Ethiopia. You've got to come with harder shit than taking away the "Dora the Explorer" tape from my fake brother.

OH MY GOD, SO GOOD. For more on the Sally Selassie Files, holla at this.

Wednesday, August 8, 2007

Hot... or Not?

Have you ever seen someone who was really, really hot? Like, so hot you think, "you're too hot to live. I have to kill you, because if you're single, you're a threat to society, and you're too hot for just one person."

I felt like this about an hour ago on the subway. I was hotter than a ho in church and looked like an 8 year old who didn't know how to eat properly: due to the underground railroad's malfunction, I had to walk in the sweltering heat to work, and arrived so drenched that I had no choice but to change into the outfit I'd brought for post-work play time. Unfortunately, this meant that I spent most of the work day looking like a whore.

Then, to top it off, during lunch with my boss (did he ask me to lunch cause I looked like a whore?) at a BBQ restaurant, I spilled bbq sauce on my WHITE PANTS (see previous post titled, "epiphany."). This meant I spent the rest of the day looking like an out-of-work prostitute who hadn't showered in days.

Anyway, when I finally made it on a train home, I was packed like a sardine next to this HOT tall glass of milk. He fit all my criteria: he was over 6'1", had a chiseled jaw, strong hands, and lips like a girl.

As I'm enjoying brushing up against him and judging him based on his iPod menu (he had The Killers!), we are forced apart by the availability of two new seats. We sit across from each other, and I'm able to eye fuck the shit out of him.

But soon, around 103rd street, the bloom began to fade from the rose. His Angie Jolie lips were starting to get on my nerves. It looked like he was, like, really pouting. But not in a sad, my-ice-cream-cone-fell-on-the-floor-two-seconds-after-I-bought-it way. He was for serious modeling in his head. I started to think, "Wait, does he think he's Derek Zoolander? Is this 'Magnum'?" I started to get turned off by what was clearly posing.

It sucks when you think you can marry someone you meet on the subway and they don't get off the train soon enough and you see them for who they truly are: a pouty wanna-be male model in a lilac shirt listening to The Killers.

Well, I guess it's okay cause now I don't have to kill him to save humanity.