Jennifer Hudson Has to Give Her Oscar Back

Um, as many of you probably know by now, blacktress and Oscar winner Jennifer Hudson is engaged to David Otunga, a young black Harvard-educated lawyer. This would be quite exciting and precious if only David had not been a contestant on I LOVE NEW YORK.
I think we all know from previous posts, how I feel about New York (aka Tiffany Pollard).
If you don't, here's the basics: she's a tranny hot mess who is one of the reasons black people can't have nice things.

David--known as Punk on the show--made it pretty far along, professing his love to New York and even welling with tears when he was rejected. He was fired from his job for appearing on the show (whether he just took too many vacation days or his firm was simply as embarrassed by his antics, I don't know--but the results are the same).

How the hell could J-Hud do this to me--and to blacktresses everywhere?! They couldn't have been together more than a year and a half, so even if he wasn't a spotlight-seeking fool willing to do anything for the cameras, I'd give them little chance of success. But the fact that this man appeared on national television and signed a "blood oaf"--yes, "oaf" is how New York pronounced it--saying that he was "here for New York" just breaks Sojourner's spirit.

What do you think J-Hud is thinking? How do you think he explained himself to her on their first dates? When someone brings up his reality-show past, does she allow him to speak of it? I get that he's a body builder and all, and he's edjumucated, but the whole "I Love New York" thing is probably the biggest red flag a man could ever wave--am I right?

I don't know, this just depresses me a little.



Effie White, how could you do this to me?! This was worse than that time you got knocked up by Jamie Foxx's character and cut off communication with the other dreamgirls!!!

Thanks For the Boost, Guys

Most of my friends are quite happy and excited for my impending journey to Oz—they support my desire to pose as Michelle Obama, and I think some of them may even respond to the emails I’ll send once I’m in a foreign land away from everyone I know. What’s been funny, though, is the way in which they choose to show their support. Often, it comes in the form of an email or Facebook wall post containing a link to some crazy and/or dangerous Australian happening.

For example:

Qantas Faces Special Safety Probe
Oh, cool. The airline I’m flying has safety issues. I think the best part of this tidbit was that it was preceded by, “Just looking out for you…” Girl, unless you got a parachute or a private jet, I have no alternative but to hop on my unsafe Qantas jalopy and hope for the best!

Then, of course, came the harrowing news of the Man Drought—which was sent to me by three different people.

We all know I didn’t take this information well. However, dear Eli Reed informed me that she and her homegirls were doing just fine with the menfolk, so my fears have been temporarily assuaged.

The news that the Mayor of Mt. Isa seeks ugly women to help the rugged men find love also gave me a bit of a boost.


This latest tidbit of Ozzie info, sent to me from my homegirl in LDN, just makes me terrified:
Monster Pig Traps Aussie Woman in Home


I cannot leave the confines of the city center. My favorite line from the article is, "It's a beautiful male pig but he's just so big and so pushy," she told the Australian Broadcasting Corporation.

Lady, if I had a nickel for every time a beautiful male pig was big and pushy, I’d have $2.15.

How to Draw a Portrait

Man, with just two days left on the plantation, I am chomping at the bit. As I finish up projects and answer phone calls from people who may or may not have metal plates in their heads, I don't know if I'll really miss much. But then I remember the wisdom that springs forth from these artists. The gems just keep coming. Take, for instance, one of my last assignments: I'm writing a review of this book on how to draw faces, and the artist-author is a real random. Such asides include, "One of the hardest part of drawing a children's portrait is getting the little beast to sit still. I think God will forgive us for working from photographs in this case."

And, in the section on how to capture facial expressions, he writes:

"Here we see a hint of a smile. I can keep a woman smiling until she realizes she despises me, but if you can't, try the following strategy. Ask the model to smile for 30 seconds..."

I'd been trying to ignore these random asides and focus on the instructional highlights, but the following, in the section on avoiding common mistakes, just could not go un-blogged:

"Here are some tips for dealing with criticism...Ask yourself, 'If the model is attractive, would you date your drawing?'"

W
T
F
?
!

How to Set Up A Still Life

That's the title of the article I have to write for work.
I've been emailing various still-life artists, asking their advice for beginners. It's been a real snooze-fest....until now.

Here's a bit of advice one artist sent me this morning:

Very important: Put things together,which works well together,which create harmonies.Its not harmonious,when you paint a beautuful flower bouquet,and on the bottom near the vase you place a half full ashtray or a open package with condoms.


How true that is.

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?? / Sojourner May Not Be Suitable for Children...

Well, technically, guess who went to dinner--ME!

Last night was dinner at the boss's place--massa let Sojo into the big house, y'all!!

I arrived with a 6-pack--of juiceboxes--and a bottle of wine as a housewarming gift for the adults. I was instantly greeted by 3-year-old Timmy,* who is really into trains. As massa cooked, I chatted with his new missus** (who actually used to work on my plantation, too, and currently freelances, so we weren't total strangers) and drank some of the wine that they'd already opened. We mostly discussed my impending move Down Under, and entertained the young one. After a few minutes, I noticed that everyone was shoeless, and asked if they preferred I took my shoes off.

"Oh, no, it's fine, whatever you prefer," said Massa.
"Oh, good, um, I'm going to keep them on because I've got a short-pants/ankle-socks situation that the boots are hiding, and it's very unflattering."

I think he understood.

Anyway, dinner was quite pleasant and low-key, and I didn't slip up by, you know, talking about how I can't wait to leave my plantation. In fact, my heart was actually warmed when the massa told me that the big massa (the overseer, if you will--will you?^) has been interviewing potential successors and singing my praises to each of them, basically telling them, "you've got big shoes to fill, and from the looks of it, you can't handle clown shoes."

Or, you know, something tender about me.

Anyway, the thing I like about little kids is that in new situations, they force everyone to focus on them, thereby taking attention away from the guest/new person/or cousin with Elephantitis. I didn't finish my dinner (it was delicious, I swear!), and started to feel guilty, when little Timmy (who clearly had left the table long before the adults and was amusing himself) came back and asked me to wear a mask and a conductor hat and let him ride on my back as though I was a human train.

Who was I to deny the cherub this wish? (As you know from previous posts, I have a way with the children.)

So there I was, in a mask that obscured my vision and a hat fit for a toddler, yelling "Choo Choo" and prattling on about Thomas the Tank Engine in front of my boss and his future wife.

Yep, the blacktress has no shame.
It really helps that my massa and I have a rapport, and he finds me pretty funny. Turns out the future wife shares his sense of humor, and, like, Sojo, she is really rational with children. Take, for instance, the following dinner time excerpt:

Timmy: Mommy, I'm hungry.
Mom: Well, Timmy, you didn't eat your dinner, and dinner time is over. You can have milk, or an apple.
Timmy: I don't want an apple! (pouting, of course, ensues)
Mom: Well, what about a glass of milk?
Timmy: I don't want milk. ("Oh my god, do I see a glisten of a tear?" I wonder as the scene goes down)
Mom: Well, Timmy, I don't know what to tell you.

HAHAHAHH!!! That's exactly how I will be if I ever accidentally get knocked up and decide to carry my kid to term and raise it myself.
Seriously, you've got to be logical with them, you can't let that ranting and whining go unchecked, or you'll end up with a brat.
In the end, he went for the apple and was quite pleased.

After the "human-train" incident, Timmy and I had really bonded, and he ran into his room and returned with The Cat in the Hat.
"Here, you be the teacher!" He said to me, as he pulled me over to the living room chair. He nestled beside me so I could read to him. (Tenderness!!!) He then made his mom and my massa sit on the floor in front of us so that we could read to them.

Oh my god, I was about to conduct story-time to my boss.
For serious, guys. I cannot make my life up. Is this normal?

As I said earlier, I don't really go for baby talk with the little people (or with dwarfs). I also have a tendency to see the seedy, sketchy, darkly humorous sides of so many of children's shows and books (see my serious analysis of television show Max and Ruby, for more). As a seasoned comedic veteran, I know the importance of connecting with the audience. While I had a 3-year-old who wanted to read, I also had two adults who were not about to sit through Cat in the Hat while seated on the floor. I had to provide a literary experience that would reach them all.

So, here, for your reading pleasure, is the completely improvised (and then quickly written down on the subway home) version of the Cat in the Hat, as told by Sojourner to Massa, his future wifey, and the cutest little boy ever.

PLEASE NOTE: The underlying goal of my story was also to help get little Timmy drowsy and ready for bed (it was, after all, already an hour past his bedtime!).

THE CAT IN THE HAT: BLACKTRESS VERSION

The sun did not shine.
It was too wet to play.
So we sat in the house
And tried to sleep the day away.

I sat there with Timmy.
We sat there, we two.
And I said, "How I wish you were older
so I could be friends with you."

Mom wasn't home
'cause she was making ends meet
So we sat in the house
And wondered what we would eat.

But all we could do was to
Sit!
Sit!
Sit!
Sit!
And we did not like it.
Not one little bit.

And then
something went BUMP!
Sally reached for the phone.
I said, "Oh god, why did mom leave us alone?"

We looked!
Then we saw him step in on the mat!
We looked!
And we saw him!
The Cat in the Hat!
And he said to us,
"Why do you sit there like that?"
"Tomorrow's school, but don't be weepy
We can have the kind of good fun
that will make you nice and sleepy!"

"I know some good games we could play,"
Said the cat.
"I know some new tricks," [Ed. Note:Watch for child molesting]
Said the Cat in the Hat.
"A lot of good tricks.
I will show them to you.
Your mother
Will not mind at all if I do."

Then Sally and I
Did not know what to say.
Our mother was out of the house
For the day.

Who were to deny a feline in fancy dress?
The times would be good, we expected no less.

But our fish said, "No! No!
Make that cat go away!"
See, the fish is a buzzkill [Young Timmy looked at me blankly at this point]
cause he does nothing all day.

Then the cat let out a yawn,
and said, "fish, kill that noise.
"We're gonna have some fun,
then sleep soundly--and poised."
"I have a game called,
INDOOR VOICES, PLEASE--
It's where everyone stops yelling
And jumping on his knees."

[Improvising in rhyme is hard--especially when you have to keep it PG.
I made it about that far when Timmy got distracted and they went and got Goodnight Gorilla-- a completely unsanitary tale about animals breaking out of their cages at the zoo and going into the home of the zookeeper so they can sleep in his bed.
Ew.]

Well, even though I couldn't make it to the end for Timmy, here's where the story was headed.

"The cat was acting totes wired
But Sally and Timmy were really tired.
They wanted the fun, but knew they had a big day ahead
So they said, 'hey cat, come back tomorrow,
we're gonna go to bed.'"

"But what about your mother?
Don't you want to say hi when she gets in?"
"No," said Sally,
"She'll probably be surly, and will
undoubtedly be reeking of gin."

So the Cat sighed, and almost cried.
"No one every wants to play me!
This is why I resort to breaking and entering!"
Sally and her brother just shuffled up the stairs.
Hardened by life as latchkey children,
they just yelled back, "Dude, who cares?"

As they tucked themselves soundly in their own beds,
The cat sat in the living room,
balancing the fish bowl on his head.
He then went searching in the cupboards, for a little late-night nip
As tears poured down his cheeks, he said,
"Step 13--it's okay if I have one little sip..."

THE END.

Take that, Seuss!

Dude, he so has an addiction.

*Name has been changed to protect the innocent Caucasian youth.
**How do you like them apples?! Massa did the cookin' while Sojo did the drankin'!
^If it makes you uncomfortable, you can just call him "editor-in-chief," which I guess is "technically his title."

Random Bloggery

Forgive me readers, for I have sinned.
It has been nearly a week since my last blogged confession.
I’ve been a bit all over the place and unsure of where the nuggets of gold are. So, as I usually do when I don’t know what’s good, I’ve just written some snippets of the latest randomness. Happy Monday!

Little Jackie
When I first heard the Little Jackie song “The World Should Revolve Around Me,” my ears instantly perked up, for I, too, believe it should always be about Sojo. As I listened closer, each line seemed to speak to my soul as a blacktress: “I’ve had a lot of failed relationships / I don’t get involved ‘cause I’m not equipped …” Don’t I know it! I was instantly hooked on this single, and needed to know more. As my internet stalking began, I discovered that Little Jackie is also the genius responsible for “Black Barbie,” one of the finest songs of the 21st century. Imani Coppola is sharp, funny, cheeky, and chill on this album, and I’m totally addicted. I think my favorite jam is “28 Butts.” Sample lyric: “I wanna save a kangaroo from a life in a zoo / I wanna own a llama/ I want less drama in my life / I think I really want to be a happy housewife.”
While I could go on and on expounding her virtues, I know what you all want—Black Barbie. Here it is, for your viewing pleasure:


Can Sojourner Handle his Truth??
I went out on a date with a comedian on Friday night, after meeting him Tuesday night at the Village Lantern. He is really fresh-faced and could be on a CW drama, but has decided to make his way in comedy. He’s pretty funny (he’s no blacktress, but he can hold his own), and I saw him perform again last night. As those who have seen my stand up can attest, I put the whole truth out there on stage. It’s a no-holds-barred, adrenaline-fueled thrill ride—much like Bad Boys or Point Break. I appreciate a funny slice-of-life story, so when this new boy made some joke about how he meets so many girls after his shows, I found myself surprisingly nervous, unable to separate the gag from the TRUTH. Should I really be surprised if that is true (Did I forget to mention he’s fresh-faced)? Should I really be taken aback if he decides to put that truth on stage even if I’m in the audience? It may be that Sojourner can dish it, but can’t take it!

Celebrity Has-Been Sighting
Last night, before supporting the new gentleman caller’s comedy, I hung out at 99 Below, a west village bar with cheap dranks and a bartender who is destined to be my baby’s daddy. Here’s why: he’s Irish, 6’5”, gay as the day is long, and cute as a button on a baby’s blouse! He is, to me, heterosexuality’s greatest loss. But, what he lacks in the desire to procreate with me, he makes up for in the desire to get me wasted on the Lord’s Day (Sunday FUNday!). It was just a few regulars/alkies in the underground bar, and we all turned judgmentally when new people entered. One blondie looking for shots comes in, followed by two middle-aged dudes. Just when it couldn’t get any more random, in walks ANDREW KEEGAN, who joins the girl with the elderly!!!

Yes, folks, Andrew Keegan, the middle school crush of so many. He often played the snotty hot guy in such films as Ten Things I Hate About You, O, and, my personal favorite, Camp Nowhere. Tell me you remember this man:

He looks exactly the same as back in the day, only he’s much greasier. He was wearing a shiny black vest and pinstripe pants, and he is not giving up his signature shaggy hair for nothing. They only came in for a minute, then headed out—I guess, in search of a hipper scene, perhaps one where someone would pay attention to him. Nonetheless, it made my day.

Guess Who’s Going to Dinner?
My boss invited me to dinner at his home, with his wife and kid!! This happens tomorrow! I’m totes freaking out. First of all, I have really serious rules about mingling with work people outside of the office. I feel like I can’t really be myself or discuss most topics because my sheer hatred for the workplace will somehow be accidentally revealed. I don’t know what questions to ask or how to keep up a conversation that’s both interesting and non-incriminating. Even though I only have 8 days of work left (holla!), I feel like I should still be on my best behavior and not burn bridges. What should I bring as a gift? Will a bottle of wine simply reveal my budding alcoholism? I’m thinking a bottle of wine for the adults, and a 6-pack of juice boxes for the youngster. Yes? No? Obviously I will fill you in on how it all goes down.

Baby's First Cover Letter

Guys, this is the real deal. I am showing you an unedited cover letter sent in to our offices. My boss handed it to me as he passed by, saying, “I think I’m gonna need coffee before I finish this.” Here’s why:

To Whom It May Concern:

Have you ever had such passion, such a burning desire to accomplish something that others could almost see the fire raging in your eyes? If there was fifteen-foot brick wall that fell in between you and your goal, you’d grab the nearest rope and start climbing. Obstacles, feel my wrath; you won’t be in the way for long. Allow me to introduce my way of accomplishing goals; they just get done. I’ve applied this method at work for a year now. My co-workers call me an animal. I reply, “Jason’ is just fine, thanks.”

Greetings! I cannot stress enough the interesting and anticipation I have for obtaining this position at your magazine. What I bring to your company is a consummate work ethic and a detail-oriented approach to writing. Although my official title may be “staff writer,” I’m a jack of all trades…

[I’m going to skip the bit about the magazines he’s worked for, cause it’d probably get me in some sort of internet trouble]

I am also familiar with Adobe software such as Photoshop and Acrobat reader, and possess a basic knowledge of HTML. A fast, efficient web browser, I usually find what I’m looking for within minutes. I’ve also assembled my PC from scratch—twice.

I’m a proactive learner who plans carefully and performs efficiently. My writing passion radiates throughout my work. It would be a privilege to apply my skills as an editorial assistant at your magazine.

Cordially,
Jason Newton*

OH MY GOD. This is too good! I think my favorite line is, “Obstacles, feel my wrath; you won’t be in the way for long.”
No, no, I think it’s, “A fast, efficient web browser, I usually find what I’m looking for within minutes.”

Um, I think it’s called “Google,” Jason.




*Names have been changed to protect the innocent.