Sunday, August 31, 2008

Using whitening strips



Okay, so I used to be completely against these $40 boxes of whiteners that are supposed to up your dental glow by like 600% by wearing off the enamel. But if you're like me and have a terrible addiction to coffee and tea (decaf stains too), then your toothy grin gets greatly affected by staining. I also didn't like how I had to sit around and wait to take those strips off. I'm too lazy for all of that mess. Then Listerine came with the master plan:



Ah-ha! Quick...dissolving...strips. "This is perfect," I thought! Put 'em on in the shower and they're dissolved by the time your hair is dried. Perfection! So I paid the $25 for the box of glad tidings (big discount from those dumb strips that charge more and you have to do more work) and planned to use them the next day.

After reading the box it said your teeth might "tingle." I have sensitive teeth as it is, which made me think that my teeth would feel like they were getting drilled. Apprehension kicked in. Then I read that the strips dissolve by triggering your salivary glands. Okay now hmmmm, hold the phone. That lady in the commercial made it look like she could pack up and go right after putting them in. She must be going to play baseball then because all she could really do was act like she was chewing tobacco with all that spit in her mouth. Nevertheless, I put them in. The directions say that you have to put them on clean (read: brushed) teeth only. I guess that is for the morons who think they could throw them on with morning breath and walk out of the house. So I brushed, applied, and went to shower. As I'm in the shower, I feel the noted "tingle" which wasn't so bad, but the dissolving process was a horror. I was DROOLING uncontrollably. Thank goodness I was in the shower.

I get out and smile in the mirror to a mouth full of foam. I looked like I had rabies. Then, after they "dissolve" your teeth are still left with balls of whitening goo...like tooth boogers. So what did I have to do? Brush my teeth again, thereby having to do exactly what I didn't want to have to do with the non-dissolving strips because I was so lazy. So to make a long story short, I bought these things to make life easier, and they only made life more difficult. Plus I looked like Old Yellar. Good thing I wasn't on a farm, because I would've clearly been shot with that foamy mouth. Call me Aesop, but there is definitely a lesson to be learned here: stained teeth are not that bad. I'm sure smokers worldwide can attest to it. I'm not a smoker, but I salute your yellow teeth. Changing tooth color is too damn difficult. Let's all spit butter together!

P.S. I actually still use the Listerine strips and deal with the mouth full of dental snot. They were $25 bucks are you crazy? They're not going to waste! Say cheese!

Put Your Faith in Hov



Saw this a few months back on a stoop in the West Village. Hell, if Jay was running for Pres, I can't honestly say I wouldn't vote for him. I mean, if the Governator and Jesse "The Body" Ventura could run cities and states, then why can't Hov run a full country? Oh that's right, because when he was Presidente of Def Jam, all we got was a reigning suckfest from Rihanna, Chrisette Michele got the ill brush off and Nas can't even title his album properly since S. Dot jumped ship. But I digress...

Let's get one thing straight - I went through my guzzling haterade phase with Jay-Z during that whole "Hey Papi' debacle. Since then, it's been a whirlwind of emotions that struggled with consistency. I laughed through The Blueprint 2, was humbled by The Black Album, shrugged at Kingdom Come (minus "Beach Chair" which still changes my life every time I hear it), and smiled at American Gangster. See for some reason, it all came together for me at that point.

I remember several years back I used to beat my chest at Will Smith like where the f*&$ is the Fresh Prince? I was like "Yeah yeah bienvenido a Miami, fool, get jiggy blah blah blah stick to acting," and then at the Source Awards like 5 or 6 years ago during the attack of the white tees, Will Smith got up to present an award. I breathed this huge sigh of relief, like okay thank God we have Will Smith up there to represent Hip-Hop properly. W...T...F? I didn't even recognize myself for thinking that, but you know what? It's true. Hip-Hop keeps experiencing this rapid decline during award show ceremonies, so we have to finally exhale when one of our own becomes a grown ass man and hops on stage and acts like one. Mind you, Hip-Hop is a culture built on youth. Leave it to some of the vets to prove that age builds swag. I mean Big Willy is hardly the archetype of swag, well, sorta...okay I'm trailing from my point here. Back to Hov:

Okay so I saw the "Roc Boys" video, where Mariah Carey and Cassie were wrongfully invited, and Jay did Nas a solid and invited him to smoke cigars with him and Diddy in the pool room. I believe it was around the time they were pretending to be Jewish and shouted l'chaim and broke a glass with their foot when no one was getting married. I started to get teary eyed. No, it's not because I'm Jewish and was appalled at the wrongful use of Hebrew imagery. It was because of the symbolism in the video.

Hip-Hop has always made it a point to state that the real money holders were at the tippy top of record labels and entertainment law firms. And let's be realistic - they're predominantly Jewish. I remember 50 Cent got on Hot 97 around the time he signed with Dre and Em and shouted out his lawyer and said "Jew U-nit!" So in the "Roc Boys" video, Jay is shouting them out...to the money holders, "L'chaim! I wish for you 100 years of success, but it's my time." It touched me, I can't lie. Sure there are umpteen emcees not properly paid, but at least four or five really made it. Hip-Hop made it. The money is starting to trickle down.

Which brings me to my current relationship with Jay-Z (the one in my head, people, don't have me on Concrete Loop in my pajamas for this). We've been seriously dating since "Roc Boys" and I think we're in love. He was always my friend throughout school and when he did dumb shit I rolled my eyes, but I've finally started to come around. And wowee, at the final date of the U.S. Glow in the Dark Tour, there I was 8th row in Madison Square Garden (E, I owe you my eternal friendship), when this happened:




Holy floodgates of love. Now, for those who didn't witness this piece of Hip-Hop history, I am deeply sorry. It's not everyday that Ye and Jay hop on stage during a tour (where Ye hasn't even addressed the crowd while performing) to tell everyone that there will in fact be a Blueprint III and Kanye won the producer race. Yeah, that was hot. And no offense, but no studio version of "Jockin' Jay-Z" will match that verse he spit live by surprise. I feel like Hillary dropping her flag and rolling with Obama. You were right, mayne. I was wrong. I LOVE YOU JAY-Z!!



Beyonce, you are a whole other post, because I love you too...just not...in...that...way.

Saturday, August 30, 2008

Dangerously Overeducated



Let's talk about student loans for a moment...

I had a thorough reality check a few weeks ago when CitiBank reared its ugly head to inform me of my future student loan payments effective December 2008. I graduated with my Masters from New York University, and do not regret one red cent. However, what...the...f*$%?! Why is my student loan a baby mortgage? Why in this society - where one degree is only good enough for a job until your next degree, which gets you a better job - do we have to pay so damn much to go to school?

Now I know what alot of you are thinking: why the hell did you go back to school? For those who chose to end it at Bachelors and toss confetti, I salute you. Finishing college is a feat in and of itself, but me, I love school. I do. As weird as that may sound, I truly love to learn, and before this f*$%ery of a loan payment, I was well on my way to a PhD. I guess for now I am going to settle for a Playa Hatin' Degree, since that is about all I can afford at this point. Bushy wushy dropped my interest rates apparently to like 3% as opposed to 65% or something, which was nice of his bomb-dropping arse, but it still doesn't make up for the fact that my monthly payments are equal to the price of a Louis Vuitton bag (not even a clutch, we're talking a Damier Canvas Speedy 30 plus tax and the cost of shipping to Zagreb with overnight delivery). Fear not, though. I have devised a plan to effectively pay my huge loan in a timely manner without compromising my dignity:


Roofies. I'm takin' it back, y'all.

Ladies, we have feared rohypnol ever since we set foot on a college campus. It's the reason why we babysit our drinks and when a guy offers to buy us one, we follow him with binoculars, a microscope and our best friend disguised as a bartender. Also known as "the date rape drug," roofies has starred in more Lifetime original movies than Meredith Baxter Birney and Candace Cameron combined. So I say, ladies, let's use this drug to our advantage in the lucrative field of prostitution!

We don't need a "boss" because ladies is pimps too (go on brush your shoulders off). Get on the corner in your most promising Pretty Woman-inspired outfit (think less Vivian, more Kit DeLuca) and find a gentleman caller. When you hop in his Hyundai, tell him you need a drink to "loosen up." While you're sitting with your drinks, say "Oh hey! My underage cousin Tina wants in too" and he'll promptly turn around. That's when you drop in the roofies. Put like six in so he knocks out quickly. Bring a Wii to the hotel room and wait the few hours until he wakes up. When he does wake up say, "OMG that was amazing...and that'll be $125." By then, it'll be plenty of time to have one of your male friends waiting in the closet with a baseball bat in case the customer acts funny style. Pay $25 to your boy for staying in the closet for so long (not like how record labels pay their male artists...that's a different closet), and you keep the $100. Do that scheme until your loan is paid. Voila! See that's why I have a Masters in business. Mogul in the making.

Friday, August 29, 2008

Oy Fey!



Everyone knows this already I'm sure, but um, yeaaaah....



Sarah Palin...Tina Fey...hand twins. I might actually vote for Pappy McCain if he picked Tina Fey. No I wouldn't.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

A Sing-a-long? Really?


So I haven't actually seen this Mama Mia movie, but now apparently a sing-a-long version of the movie releases tomorrow. I can only imagine what those "select" theaters that are playing the movie will look like. Considering the fact that every person on this planet has at one time thought that they were actually a decent singer, I'm sure the lingering folks who have very high opinions of themselves will be posted up in the theater with popcorn ready to destroy some Abba songs. I'll pass.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Hillary Shouts Out the Pants



Last night at the Democratic National Convention, my homegirl Hillary did the right thing and openly endorsed Obama. I still wish she would've been veep (hush), but yeah good going Hill. In her excellent speech she made reference to my Pants movie by urging her "Sisterhood of the Traveling Pantsuits" to walk with Obama as well. She referenced my movie, so once again Hillary didn't let me down.

Monday, August 25, 2008

Happy 10-Year Anniversary Miseducation of Lauryn Hill



Anyone from North Jersey who was remotely involved with Hip-Hop had some six degrees of separation story as to how or why they knew about the Fugees before the rest of the world did. For me, it was through a childhood friend in 7th grade whose cousin had a crush on this girl in his high school who was involved in some Haitian rap group. After hearing her poor quality demo that was awkwardly brilliant, I felt connected to this group whose fate was not yet determined. A year later “Nappy Heads” met the radio. It was then that I was re-introduced to my quasi-homegirl named L-Boogie – a suburban Jersey girl just like me, who frolicked in the inner city just like me, and loved Hip-Hop…just like me.

Lauryn Hill was the unsung superstar during the Fugees’ Tranzlator Crew days. From their “real” first single “Boof Baf,” Lauryn danced in the shadows of Wyclef’s cartoonish persona. If anyone played “Some Seek Stardom” on Blunted On Reality, they clearly knew that behind Clef’s obnoxiousness and Pras’ monotone rhymes stood a talented young lady searching for her voice. Then The Score happened. Sure, we knew L had the lyrics in her on random side projects like Big Kap’s “Da Ladies,” but The Score sealed the deal that Lauryn knew what the hell she was talking about. For me, I think it was the local aspect of it all, as Lauryn shouted, “Ha ha ha ha ya hafta respect Jersey ‘cause I’m super fly when I’m super high on the Fu-gee-la.” Lauryn was for me what Bon Jovi was for the rest of my white friends growing up in the New Jeru. And from that point on she was my hero.

When the Bootleg Versions dropped, along with “Hip-Hopera” and “Rumble In the Jungle,” I began tracking Lauryn’s evolution as a lyricist. She went from, “I don’t puff blunts so I always got my breath, never had to battle with a bullet proof vest” to “Teach the youth they got more rights than Miranda, tell ‘em this whole shit is propaganda” in under a few years. The things she discussed that I didn’t know about, I went to the library and learned. Hell, I even rented Coolie High to get the whole concept of the “Killing Me Softly” video. I too cried when Cochise died. I patiently waited for Lauryn to finally strut her stuff on a solo record. Then The Carnival happened, like wtf? Still, Lauryn managed to drop some knowledge on “Year Of the Dragon,” and of course “Guantanamera,” where she hid her pregnant belly behind a parade float in Mexico during the video. Then The Miseducation Of Lauryn Hill happened.

At 19 years old, Miseducation couldn’t have happened at a more perfect time for me. Lauryn consoled me over every guy who had ever broken my heart, and for the men who would later fool me, Lauryn warned me beforehand. Her entire catalog became the blueprint of my life, and for that I was eternally grateful. But before Miseducation even hit the shelves in the summer of ’98, so began my chase to meet the woman who changed my life.

Earlier that summer (1998), some friends and I packed up my Dodge Neon and traveled three hours to Hartord, Connecticut to catch Lauryn Hill in the only concert she was scheduled for – the f*cking Lilith Fair Tour. No disrespect to the ladies of Lilith Fair, but it just wasn’t our crowd. Still, we had a good enough reason to be there. That was until we were informed that Miss Hill was a no show. I cried for two days. Straight.

August 25, 1998. After waiting on line for approximately two hours, I met my muse face to face at the Virgin Megastore in Union Square, New York City. She was seated behind a school desk with a chalkboard behind her (keeping up with the whole Miseducation theme – how clever!). I marched right up to her in this maniacal fan tizzy and scolded her for not showing up to Lilith Fair like two months prior. WTF?! Whoever believes that Lauryn Hill is racist can dead those stale beliefs right here, because Lauryn Noel Hill apologized profusely to my white ass while hoards of mixed races awaited their 15 seconds with her. I still have that autograph framed. Mine read, “To Kathy, Love Lauryn” while everyone else’s said, “Love Lauryn.” Maybe it was the Jersey connection, who knows.

I attended about five shows during The 1999 Miseducation Tour. I began memorizing the routine and would recite it like that annoying girl at the movies, who says the lines before they happen. Later that summer, a friend in South Orange, New Jersey told us about the Hills having a block party, so myself and now fellow AllHipHop scribe Alex Thornton trekked the 25 minutes to South Orange to bumrush the barbecue. We were greeted by many Marleys (we think), but no Lauryn. Alex and I both agreed that the incident was far too stalkerish and we would never mention it…until now (sorry Alex).

The two years that followed were defending the career of Miss Hill like it was my job. Everyone from my mother to ?uestlove heard about how I was convinced that it wasn’t the last of Lauryn Hill. Then the Essence Awards happened – locks gone, acoustic guitar strapped, belting “Adam Lives In Theory.” Like the rest of the world, I was so confused. Two years prior, this girl swept the Grammy’s (which fell on my birthday that year) and was out to save music! Now, who the hell was gonna save her? I needed some answers; had Lauryn gone mad?

July 2001, I headed to Brooklyn USA to the African Arts Festival where Lauryn was rumored to be performing. She arrived with her guitar and cried on stage. It was weird seeing Lauryn cry, like seeing your mom cry. This vision of strength breaking down before me suddenly became so…human. I went backstage, where hundreds of people were surrounding her. In the midst of the swarm of fans, she looked me dead in the eye and said, “Hey! You traveled just as long as I did to get here.” She remembered me! Lauryn Hill remembered me! She was definitely not crazy. I proved my point and went home. Unplugged happened, but she wasn’t crazy to me. I caught her at the Smokin’ Grooves Tour, and she still wasn’t crazy to me. After that, I got into writing, and my hero and I parted ways. Let’s not get into my missing the Block Party. It was a painful memory that I revisit on my DVD player.

I started writing seriously because Lauryn once said that words would hit her in her sleep and she’d wake up and have to write them down. Those things happened to me all the time since I learned to read, but I ignored them for the first 23 years of my life. When I finally wrote the words down, they weren’t half bad, so call me a writer. Now I had a whole new reason to thank Lauryn Hill. Last year, I met a woman named Joss Stone, who went to the extreme to get Lauryn Hill on her record. I must admit I was pretty ambivalent towards Lauryn until Joss and I carried on about her for hours like I was back in high school. It hit me then, that after five years as a journalist, I was ready to interview Lauryn Hill. I tucked it away in the back of my mind on my list of things to-do along with visiting Egypt and buying a Marc Jacobs bag. Four months later, I bought the Marc Jacobs bag, so my dreams were coming true. Do I dare find Lauryn? The first thing I did was hit up Joss, my initial inspiration, and she gave me some contact information. I also reached out to my good friend who worked with Lauryn, and he sent an email out.

Then I am informed that Lauryn Hill will be performing in Brooklyn on August 6, 2007. All of my run-ins with Lauryn happened in the summertime, and this one would be no different…so I thought. Armed with my recorder, my cousin, and an AllHipHop business card that wasn’t even mine, I ventured out to Brooklyn to interview a woman who at one time meant the world to me. I must admit, when I arrived in Brooklyn, I was only half-excited. After reading the articles about Lauryn flaking and watching the most recent video where she sounds sane but looks otherwise, I kind of numbed myself to the idea of seeing her again. Let’s forget the Fugees reunion incident altogether. Lauryn was the shell of my old friend, and I was interviewing the memory. That was the plan.

We circled the neighborhood for two hours trying to penetrate the crowd heading into the venue. I watched as local residents, frat boys, sorority girls, kids from foreign, and Hip-Hop hippies all migrated towards the Wingate Field. That was until we were all sent away. Not even the Alternatives Editor from the Number One Hip-Hop website could squeeze in to get a few words. It then hit me that I waited my whole life for an opportunity like this, and lost it. We drove to the end of Brooklyn, turned back around again and tried one more time, but no dice. As I was driving home, I realized that Lauryn was still my friend. I still wake up from my sleep to write, and I still downloaded “Doo Wop (That Thing)” onto my Blackberry. Regardless of her decisions, I still take her advice about men, and still wear one bangle bracelet in her honor. As I listened to her freestyle on DJ Skribble’s Traffic Jam, I realized I am hardly above her influence. She is still one of the reasons why I write, and I still have to thank her for it. And just when you thought it was safe to relax, L-Boogie spits with perfect syntax.

Until then, here is a little dedication I wrote with the help of some famous quoters. I'm hearing rumors swell of her penning new material in her bathroom on toilet paper. I will take what I can get.

R.I.P. Aaliyah Haughton 1/16/79 - 8/25/01



Seven years ago to the day, we lost Aaliyah Haughton. As we’ve witnessed talented artists pass on throughout history, we begin to relate their deaths with what we were doing when we found out. Our parents probably remember where they were when they found out John Lennon died or Jimi Hendrix or Bob Marley.

For many of us there were the deaths of Tupac and Biggie, and Aaliyah ranks right up there. Most music lovers (and especially Aaliyah fans) remember exactly what they were doing on August 25, 2001 when the world said goodbye to Baby Girl.

We lost her too soon at the age of 22, right at the peak of her career. Aaliyah was the original protégé of Missy Elliott and Timbaland, with whom they would test their production styles in an effort to create was most still fall short of making today.

A dancer, singer, actor, and all around entertainer, Aaliyah’s greatest gift to us was interpretation. Whether it be a role, a beat, or a sheet of music, Aaliyah wrapped herself in the creativity of her projects as if they were made for her.

What she felt, we felt, and that’s why her death hit the industry so hard. As private as she was with her life, Aaliyah was all of our best friends. Girls aspired to be her; boys aspired to marry her. Thankfully, we’re left with a catalog of hits that after a second listen are so obviously the blueprints for much music today. The AllHipHop staff compiled their favorite Aaliyah tracks – some commercially known, others b-sides and remixes. Share your favorites too as we celebrate the life of a true fallen angel. Click here to read.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Eric Benet Still Loves Sex



What a sweet guy. I remember back when I worked at Warner, we were working his Hurricane album. He brought his daughter India to work during his press day. What a lovely girl, I must say. We had cupcakes from Magnolia Bakery in the office that day and we gave one to India. You would've thought we had given her gold. She was sooo grateful. I brought that up to Eric during our interview and he was really touched. Speaking of touching:



Eric, if you are looking for some vanilla legs that turn caramel in the sun, call me.

To read the interview, click here

Monday, August 18, 2008

Sunday, August 10, 2008

America Gives the Stink Eye

I am so for the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. It's rather pathetic how much I love the books and the first movie, and now the second movie (well except for the fact that they combined like three books to make this one. Wamp!). Anyway, so recently America Ferrera and Blake Lively were on Good Day LA and the girls answered a few questions about Pants. However, then the attention turned to Gossip Girl. Okay, so nobody shoot me in the leg, but I have never seen Gossip Girl, and after hearing Blakey chirp about it, I may never even turn on the CW again. America seemed to agree, peep the scowl:



You can find the video on YouTube, but I felt the need to freeze that marvelous moment in time. America's eyes said "WTF?" I love it. I wonder if they're friends after all that? Considering the fact that most things dedicated to four female friends, are all reflections of each other- like Golden Girls, Sex & the City, and now The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, that would make Carrie as America and Samantha as Blake. Annnnnd, Sarah Jessica Parker and Kim Cattrall are rumored to not get along, so isn't that funny? Isn't it? Am I getting too deep for you? It's ok. Think about all that and get back to me.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Jazmine Sullivan is Lauryn Hill-in



I had the pleasure of interviewing Miss Jazmine Sullivan for AllHipHop. Jazmine has been around for a minute, starting with my old stomping grounds Black Lily. Read up on her and how she's not trying to be the next L-Boogie. I don't blame her, Lauryn is untouchable.

Excerpt:

When I get comparisons to Lauryn it is all good. You know, Lauryn is such a great artist and I listened to her growing up. I think because of the reggae vibe on the first single, it is easy to compare me to her. But I think once you hear the rest of the album you will see that we are two totally different artists. There is no other Lauryn to me.

Read it all here

Friday, August 1, 2008

Welcome!

And now, we dance...