I am on a search for Bindi Irwin.
As I work to warm up mamadukes to the idea of Australia and convince my bros and hos that I’m not making a foolish move for a guy, I’ve been answering a lot of questions for myself. Yesterday, while procrastinating on the plantation via g-chat, I spoke with one soul sister from another mister, who urged me to leave this hemisphere. Our convo went something like this:
L: You could hang out with Bindi. That could be fun.
Me: Po’ Bindi—she’s had to grow up so fast.
L: I like how the family didn’t miss a beat.
Dad’s dead.
I got my own show.
I rap about reptiles.
She’s a G.
I mean, if that’s not the Sojourner Truth, I don’t know what is! Bindi is gangsta to the maxxxxxx! I mean, check out homegirl on the Today Show rapping Trouble in the Jungle. She was just like, “Having a dead daddy doesn’t mean I can’t dance!” Homegirl is my new (Australian) idol—I think she may be a young strong black woman in the making.
I must go to her and fortify myself.
This is my plan: I will go down under and comb the continent for the tiny Caucasian imp, focusing my search around animal sanctuaries and stagnant lakes where reptiles make their home. I will brush up on my dance moves and wear only khaki-colored ensembles, in hopes that she will hire me as a b(l)ack-up dancer. Following such great back-up dancers as K-Fed and J-Lo’s ex (what was his name?), I will work my way into Bindi’s inner circle, becoming a fixture at her side during all major promotional appearances. I will turn her pigtails into cornrows and soon people will wonder where her mother went.
The mother will be silenced.
Bindi and I will sharpen her rap skills (baby’s kinda a hot mess, as you can see in the clip above), and we will record a duet—the follow-up to “Trouble in the Jungle,” it will be a remix of “Jungle Fever,” which plays on her love of animals, our interracial friendship, and the inevitable yellow fever outbreak of 2011. Stevie Wonder will appear in the video.