Friday Foolery: Branch Of Deaf!

Against my better judgement, I happened to be yucking it up with Panama Jackson aka “I Got Every Single Possible Alias In The History Of Jennifer Garner” and he up and decided to link a particular video for me to partake in. He’s obviously a bad influence. Hide yo wife.

Because I’m in a kindergarten frame of mind, I decided to share with ya’ll. Pay the foolery forward! Haley Joel Osment would be proud. Speaking of that whispering fellow, I haven’t Googled him lately. Does he look like the 6 feet tall 10 year old looka boy that I’ve imagined him to be at this point in time?

…

Let me gone ‘head and link this before I make an entire post on the kid who saw dead people…

Annnnnd go:

0:00 – I’m not sure I’ve started a video from the absolute very beginning before, but I had to stop it here before I started it. Ya’ll see that ninja on the right? Why does that ninja actually look like a member of the Triple K? I quit and rebuke the mofo who drew that and called it a ninja. FOOLISH. *cackles* And I cannot with him giving the thumbs up, all “Yay, bigotry!”

0:05 – Ok, I ain’t e’en gonna lie, that made me jump back a little. I should’ve known he wouldn’t just sit there in full meditative pose like a serious person. I mean, do I know what I’m watching? Focus.

0:13 – Um. Tig ol’ bitties, much? Here’s a thought to ruin your day. How’d you feel if Victoria’s Secret* put him in their commercials for April Fool’s Day? I would DIE. And um, Vicky? If you do that, best believe I will be taking you to Judge Judy. Trick.

0:16 – Not “Blindin Fat Speed!” Yes, that went by so quickly, my hair whipped back and forth simultaneously.

0:18 – Ya’ll know he almost fell, right?

0:27 – Yet again.

0:44 – He look way too serious for this to be real. And this music?! Lawd.

0:48 – You see those Dragon kicks? They are full of fury! You think Mother Nature is ferocious? Check out the wind provided by the flapping of this man’s bosom as he kicks his legs. Only then, will you know what true fury is.

0:56 – I love how he has to keep pulling up his shorts. Actually, what I REALLY love is not that he HAS to do it, but that he actually makes the conscious choice to do it. No one wants to see the result of him not giving a frick about his shorts falling down. For that, I thank you for many generations to come, Black Ninja. Ain’t saying Black Ninja redundant, considering how black folks use that term? Nah, nevermind, I use “ninja” equal opportunity-like.

1:10 – This is where I *FLATLINE*. The “Branch of Deaf”, doe? And why did he climb onto it all gingerly and cautiously as if he would’ve fallen to his death — um, deaf, I mean — had he made a wrong step? That branch is so close to the ground, it is damn near UNDER it. I cannot!

1:34 – Wow, “Dirty Dancing” got nothing on this scene right nah.

1:42 – (._.) I’m sorry…”Tigar Claw?” What is a Tigar? Is that something like a Liger, a la “Napoleon Dynamite.” A hybrid? Maybe it is a mix of a tiger and a car?

1:50 – Is he making the karate chop sound with his mouth, kinda like how us kiddies used to do back in the day when we pretended like we were Bruce Lee?**

1:58 – This creature said, “Samarai! Siggas!” Also, I’m quite impressed and stupified that he spelt “samurai” correctly, but not “tiger.” Or am I missing something deep and ironic, here?

2:11  – And THEN he proceeds to ask if he spelled it right! YES, sigga, you did. You shoulda asked that when you put some damn “tigar claw” so I can say “naw” and saunter off. I’m mad he didn’t spell it “samoorye” or some ish.  He spelled it RIGHT! That’s a ninja mind trick for yo ass.

Man, I just…

So, Pinchers, would ya’ll let your chirruns join this man’s dojo? Assuming he has one. Of course he does. Anyone who can tackle the Branch of Deaf should have his own dojo and be called Sensei.

Happy Friday! Kick a Sigga in the face in the name of Samurai-ness. Ok, actually only on the internet. No violence.

 

Love ya like Nick Cannon probably loves to drumline on Mariah Carey’s preggers belly,

Cheekie

 

*Mentioning them just reminded me I recently got a free panty coupon in the mail! Win!
**Don’t e’en ack like you didn’t pretend you were Bruce Lee when you found out about him. He was everything.

Paranormal Activity: The Pinched Version

*CHEEKIE NOTE*: I’m not even gonna be a stank ho and pretend that I didn’t just up and avoid writing a Monday post. My apologies. Pinch my cheeks, then forgive me, please. I was resting up from my fabulous Miami trip with @NickNotNikki, @maxfab, @livelovelibra, and @MsEsquire77. Thanks, ladies for a fabulous time and best believe we will be getting together again! *crosses fangers for DC 2011!*

 

 

I've experienced a little bit of this, except mine didn't gross millions of dollars. FML.

 

A little birdie called “The Calendar” informed me that this upcoming Sunday is Halloween. So, in keeping with the Halloween spirit, I decided to write a Halloween-themed post. So, gather around with your cavity-inducing snacks, Pinchers, because I got a story to tell. Saddown!

When I was a sophomore in high school, I experienced something that no one is ever quite ready for. Especially not someone at such a tender age. One of my best friends, Courtney*, suddenly passed away. I won’t get into the details to protect her privacy as well as her family’s, but it was extremely tragic. This hit our group of friends pretty hard because she was always the right amount of quirkiness and sunshine that we needed.

A couple days after I heard the news, something happened to me that probably changed my outlook on life. I’ve always been a spiritual person and I’ve always believed in a life hereafter, but I had never directly experienced it. I’d heard stories about it, watched TV specials about it and have always been fascinated with it. I would’ve never guessed that I’d become one of those people telling stories of how they had “contact” with the other side. But, I did.

A little backstory right quick. When I was a young(er) buck, I used to collect Barbie Dolls. I kept them all in a huge toy chest. I just had that many. I played with them, sure, but not in the typical way most little girls did, such as brushing their hair and having mini fashion shows. I made mini-movies with my dolls. I was a little screenwriter before I even knew you could get paid for creating films. Life is funny. But, um, I’m pressing the “digress” button now. This was ‘sposed to be a backstory, not a back-trilogy.

So, a couple nights after we all heard of Courtney’s passing, I was lying in bed on the verge of falling asleep. As I was drifting into Sleepyland, I looked over at the curtain and saw it rise. And it appeared to be a person’s head under the curtain. I wouldn’t be able to exactly describe the feeling I got in that moment, but it definitely wasn’t one of fear. It was more peace and relaxation than anything. So, I fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke up and got ready for school just like any other day. I went to open my dresser drawer and it didn’t budge. I kept yanking at it, but it felt like something was stuck in the opening, blocking my efforts. I figured perhaps a shirt sleeve was caught in the drawer track or something so I kept pulling until I finally got it open. What I found in there was chilling, to say the least.

Inside the drawer was about 1/3 of my Barbie Dolls. Just a huge pile of them, stuffed inside. I checked the drawers under the first one and saw the same thing. Each drawer was filled with dolls. After stretching my eyeballs to the point that would seem impossible for a squinty-eyed gal, I ran into my grandma’s room (she was living with my mom and I at that point). She was hella known for scaring me at random times so I had to ask…

Cheekie: Grandma, did you pull a prank on me?
Grandma Cheekie (GC): No!
Cheekie: Come, on Grandma, you are always doing something!
GC: What happened?
Cheekie: My dolls! All my dolls are stuffed in my drawers! You did it!
GC: No, I swear I didn’t. I swear.
Cheekie: o_O
GC:

Yes, my grandma always played pranks on me such as jumping out of a dark room and screaming to scare me (LMAO, who DOES that?! I loved her so!), but when she pulled a particular prank, she would never let it go so long without letting me know she was the culprit. She’d definitely take advantage of outwardly laughing at me and mocking me as soon as she could.

I sat there warring with my thoughts, wondering what in the glory hell could be the explanation for all of this and it came to me instantaneously. Courtney. She knew I collected dolls; all my friends did. And then I suddenly had a memory of that eerie curtain moving the previous night. It had to be her. And as creepy as coming to that conclusion was, I all of a sudden came to peace with it.

Courtney was always very playful so that “activity” reeked of her. And it made me smile that she’d contact me in that way. To let me know she was okay.

This was probably the weirdest thing to ever happen to me and I’ll always remember it. I’ll surely always remember her, no doubt. And most of all, I’ll always be thankful she didn’t shake my bed or pull me down the stairs…ish like that. Because best believe I would’ve dahd. Dahd, I say.

I do still wonder why this story didn’t get me on The Oprah Show, doe.

Pinchers, the haunted floor is yours! Have you ever had any contact with the other side? Do you know anyone who has? Share that ish! It fascinates me so! And what do you think about my story? Am I touched, aka crazy? Yes.

 

Love ya like voters secretly love negative political ads**,

Cheekie

 

*Name changed.
**You know it’s true. You ain’t gotta lie, Craig.

Friday Foolery: Hit ‘Em With The Dora

*CHEEKIE NOTE*: At the exact time you’re reading this, I’m in Miami, Tricklettes!

Before you divulge in this week’s foolery, make sure you’ve partaken in last week’s foolery as this is part two of the series. I know I can’t watch no sequels without watching the first film, so how about gettin’ like me. If you missed it, it’s right ‘chere.

Aiight…LEGGO:

0:15 – Right from the jump, my chica Dora has us anticipating her next function. She speaking that gospel right now. If you ain’t there, you ain’t nobody. You are a non-entity. You do not register on any molecular level.

0:30 – Oh, when she said her homie Train was comin to pick her up, I never expected an ACTUAL TRAIN to show up. LOL

0:37 – AHAHA @ him playing “Deuces” and Dora calling him out because it’s old. She moves on to the next one, don’t she?

0:48 – WACKAAAAA FLOCKAAAA! They knew C-Breezy wasn’t cuttin’ it for that pre-function hype music. They need that truly ignant ish, and you can’t get more slow nowadays than Monsieur Flame.

0:54 – Train got sounds, huh?

1:12 – She said, “I got a monkey…AND-A-TRAIN, bish!” Yes, you mad. You are HEATED.

1:23 – *DEAD* She ain’t give him no gas money. She was UP! She like, hurry up before he realize this ish.

1:31 – HAHAHA! How Boots gone call him a PAB and then precede to ask him for directions? I cannot!

1:44 – Aw, the scarecrow crying because he wanna “shake it up.” I guess that’s scarecrow-ese for “grind on some booty meat.”

1:52 – He straight urinated on himself when that crow flew by. Then gonna say, “Eff you AND yo party! Ain’t nobody e’en wanna go to that.” Oh, I thought you just wanted to go. Huh. Ninjas.

2:03 – Boots snapped on scarecrow, but scarecrow wasn’t havin’ no monkey wearing no boots treatin’ him. He proceeded to tell him to promptly GTFOH. He ain’t neva scared. Well, except for when it comes to crows… I’m sorry, birds. He’ont know what kind it is.

2:16 – BWAHAHA @ Dora saying he can go but then retracting all, “Well, I mean you can’t go, but you can show us how to get there.” PWNED.

2:39 – I CANNOT with this Leggo revolution. This Dora person straight effed up my entire life. I used to associate Leggo with building blocks. Now, I can’t not think about these videos and how Leggo actually means, “Let’s go.” Lawd.

2:52 – “Aiight relax, you embarrassing me now, damn bish.” LMAO He got way too excited. She properly shut him down because ninjas do love to take ish too far. I mean, Leggo is great and all’at, but don’t be going into convulsions about it, I mean, dayum.

3:00 – No. They. Didn’t. He lives by the rainbow because he’s gay. SMH…

3:05 – “You can suck all the flowers out yo ass.” *faints*

3:30 – Dang, that party is PACKED. The Dora Clan is in there DEEP. They must’ve heard of the sheer success that was function, part one. I hope she established a cover charge. Like 10 bucks a head? Or… I don’t know what their currency is there. Barnacles? Anyway, she’d be SET.

3:44 – Oh. Of course. The majority of these ninjas weren’t even invited and don’t even know Dora. Typical!

3:55 – *PERISHED* She said her daddy look like Lionel Ritchie and they proceed to play a clip from Lionel’s stalker hit, “Hello.” I quit everything. I’mma log off oxygen.

4:13 – Not “Tittytopia!” *cackles*

4:15 – This is where I straight fell OWT. The delivery of it, I cannot even retype that ish. Lawdy. And they had the nerve to play a Drake “Over” snippet! Absolutely ratchet.

4:24 – Just straight STOOPID for having everyone simultaneously screaming, “Leggo!”

4:47 – HAHA, not the greeters again! Just screaming nonsense and trying to ruin ish.

4:55 – Hit ‘Em With The Flex! And why, once again, does the dance look so similar to the real thang?! How does this stuff happen?!! So perfectly?!

5:28 – LMAO @ incorporating the scarecrow in it!

5:51 – “Aiight cut that shit down.” How is THAT for getting people’s attention? Eff a clanking champagne glass to make a speech. Just be direct with that DJ so you can say yo piece.

6:00 – That giant rooster, doe.

Baddabing! Did ya’ll have fun at the function sequel? Shout out your favorite part!

Happy Friday, Pinchers! Make sure you hit ‘em with the flex. I don’t know who “‘em” is, in particular, but that doesn’t matter. It can be anyone. The mailman, the waitress, your next door neighbor, even that dayum alley cat that thinks you’re their owner because you gave ‘em one bowl of warm milk. Don’t be stingy with the flex. It ain’t classy.

 

Love ya like Twix loves to gives folks a moment,

Cheekie

Pretty Fly For A White Guy

*looks at some of my light-skint brothas and sistas* OBVIOUSLY, this ain't nuffin new...

I seriously went back and forth (ALL WILLOW AIRTHANG) on whether to call the subtitle of this post, “White Wednesdays.”

Before I get to the ogling and praising, I just want to offer a small note on the title. I don’t mean to belittle our melanin-challenged brothas because all of the following men are foine, regardless. I just immediately thought of the song with the same title when I decided to write this post, naturally. Kumbaya.

Ok, now that I got that young fake disclaimer outta the way.

Everybody and their mama knows I stan for my brothas. Boris and Idris, especially. Sorry, to all ya’ll average Joes, but someone gotta be on top! That’s what she said? Point is, I am equal-opportunity when it comes to eye candy.

*As the brothas get heated because if they did the same thing, a swarm of sistas would bombard their site raising all kinds of hell, but it’s okay for us to do it because it’s “Something New”* Don’t worry (be happy!), ya’ll can bombard here, too if the fact that I’m doing this list makes ya mad. Preferably with your shirt off.

So. Here it is. In no particular order. My Top 10 Eye Candies of the Caucasian Persuasion.

1. Joshua Jackson. Lawd, this is my main boo. I first fell for him during Dawson’s Creek days when he portrayed Pacey. I stanned for that show and I stanned for Pacey/Joey. He’s probably not conventionally good looking (though, he has gotten VERY handsome with age), but what I love most about him is his… yes, I’mma say it… swagger. That voice of his alone makes me melt like Blue Bell ice cream in the Sahara. And that slow smile he does that eventually lights up his whole face… *faints*

2. Ryan Gosling. I probably first truly noticed him (in that way) in the thriller, Murder By Numbers with Sandra Bullock. There was something about that cocky side-grin that did bad things to me. Let’s just say I see why Sandra (allegedly) dated him. He’s a rather lanky fellow, but he is so swoonworthy. And he completely captured my heart in The Notebook and Half Nelson. And to top it off, this ninja is a FABULOUS actor.

3. Clive Owen. Just like Josh above, it’s his voice that does it. Obviously, a good voice is a top quality I love in a man. And I have a thing for raspy, thick, husky voices. The ones that kinda sound like he just got outta bed. Anyhow, I savored every bit of him in the film, Closer, which, for the record? Sucked all kinds of baboon ass. Seriously, the only good things about it were Clive, Jude Law, and Damien Rice’s “The Blower’s Daughter.” Speaking of Jude, doe…

4. Jude Law. It’s probably not everyone’s favorite movie, but I think I really appreciated Jude in Alfie. Watching the scene where he put it on Nia Long’s character was probably one of the sexiest things I’ve seen on a television. He’s just pretty. Period.

5. Jake Gyllenhaal. Yes, I had to Google his name to double-check if I spelt it right. And I did! First try! *flexes on the Spelling Bee* Anyway, this man has THEE most piercing blue eyes evah. And such a great smile! He is just too adorable! Sure, he played a schizophrenic weirdo in Donnie Darko, but he was still a cutie even while having visions of creepy prophetic rabbits!

6. Brad Pitt. This man is just perfect. He’s a living Ken Doll. Let’s just do us all a favor and forget about those bizarre mountain man moments he’s had in recent years. That’s what actors do. I love how he has that conventionally handsome look, but there’s this devilish hint to his smile. Mmmm. And him being a humanitarian doesn’t hurt, either. HOT. Man, is it getting hot in here? Oh, it’s because I’m thinking of that scene between him in Angelina Jolie in Mr & Mrs. Smith right nah. You know what scene. And obviously “Brads” stay winning because…

7. Bradley Cooper. He’s funny and nice to look at! Perfect combo! Though Mr. Chow was probably the guy who had me on the floor while watching The Hangover, I gotta argue that Bradley is a bit easier to look at. Sure, he was kind of an asshole in the movie, but we all know womens love assholes. o_O

8. Gabriel Aubry. kldjfdkgjdjgkl%%$%&&*#@!gjjtetiweouercmdsfgtu$@%@#%!!!@@. You know what I’m sayin’?

9. Robin Thicke. I loved me some Robin Thicke ever since he was rockin the “homeless Jesus” (a fan on a message board pegged him as that and I thought it was spot-on) and he was just “Thicke.” He disappeared for a while* and then returned with a new look. And LAWD did he get all sophisticated. I was like, “SOMEone cleant up good!” He’s a hot tamale. Plus “Wanna Love You Girl” KNOCKS. I love me some “Oh Shooter”, too. Remember, don’t be rapper racist.

10. Hugh Jackman. Naw, not “dancing at the Tony’s” Hugh Jackman, I mean “Wolverine” Hugh Jackman. Hence, my choice in picture. I used to watch X-Men: The Animated Series as a wee Cheekie and I always thought Wolverine was the coolness. When the live-action film series arrived, I was enamored by Hugh’s ruggish, badass Wolverine. I probably had to fan myself inside the movie theater and ya’ll know how White folks they be having the A/C blastin’ up in there.

Whoomp, there it is. My top 10 2520 list! Pinchers, I’mma need you to include some of your faves! Are any of your faves same as mine? Do you think anyone on my list makes you believe I’m blind? I kinda am, since I wear glasses. *sizzle* Oh, and by the way, I don’t wanna exclude my straight male Pinchers. Whitewash away, yourselves. O_O

 

Love ya like Wendy Williams loves to ask us (with that bass) “How you doin?”,

Cheekie

 

 

 

 

*I’m guessing behind Ne-Yo’s hairline. Way down yonder somewhere.

Back In The Days When I Was Young I’m Not A Kid Anymore

When I was wee one, folks always used to say I resembled her.

Ya know, I wish I could say that foolery up and hit me at a certain point in my life, but I just can’t. I think some sort of foolishness has always been a part of my life. Even as a mini Cheekie, I was a plum fool. Not a ripe one, though. Because I was just a kid.

Anyhoot. I’ve been feeling a bit nostalgic lately so I decided to take an e-stroll down memory lane. And to force invite ya’ll along for the ride!

Five Random Facts About Cheekie The Child.

1. The Early Fix. I’ve mentioned this amongst the internets, but due to losing my paternal grandma and father to lung cancer, I took a vow never to smoke cigarettes. And I never have. Never had a desire to. But, on top of that I always joke that I don’t smoke because I’ve already had my tobacco fix in my first years of life. *as your face looks like this* Naw, I wasn’t huffing and puffing… I used to actually eat cigarettes as a baby. o___________O I remember when my mama first told me this as a kid, I fell flat out. Then I had to tell everyone I knew.* She said I used to take both her and my dad’s cigarettes and the chew the hell outta them. They’d be looking all over the Bermuda Triangle for their squares and they’d find a soggy pile of ‘em by me as I looked up at them all innocently with tobacco all over my lips. WHO. DOES. THAT?! Man, if I woulda pulled that ish in today’s times when cigarettes can cost seven bucks a pack? Woo, chile.

2. The Superhero. Pinchers, if I told ya’ll I used to be obsessed with Tim Burton’s Batman films (yeah, all two ‘em) as a youngster, that would be the understatement of the century. I distinctly remember my big sis, Chyna taking me to a drive-in movie theater** to see the first film of the series. Lawd, I was so engrossed in the dopeness that was Michael Keaton and Jack Nicholson. So, after I saw the film, I used to bug EVERYONE by reenacting a certain line in the film. Especially one of Chyna’s best friends at the time. Like so:

Cheekie: Ask me who I am, ask me who I am!!
Chyna’s Friend: o_O Who are you?
Cheekie: I’m Batman.

BWAHAHAHA! To this day, her friend still tells me that is her fondest memory of me. And I kept asking her (and any other willing victim around me) over and over. Man, when I stan, I stan like a true ninja. I stanned before Eminem wrote a dope angry rap about it. But, speaking of Chyna’s friends…

3. The Scare. Those who interact with me around the innanets can probably tell I’m very close with my big sis, even though we’re so far apart in age. That’s because as long as I could walk, I was right by her side. She always had me with her, even when she hung around her friends. Which, I thought was sweet. Don’t be callin’ her no lame or nuffin, she was sweet! Anyway, her male friends (including my older cousin) used to love to tease me when I was maybe about 3 or 4. They’d make these scary faces and noises and chase me around the room. I’d run down the hallway screaming “No, no no no!!” with my arms flailing. See? Even then, I was dramatic dinna mug. The reason why this is my favorite story ever — and why I always tell Chyna to retell it — is because how she reacted to their teasing. She straight up almost straight mollywhopped all of them for messing with her little sis. She used to get seriously upset, cussing them out and carrying on. Did I just say “carrying on?” Clearly, I’m typing this from a nursing home. But, aw, this story, though. I feel so loved.

4. The Carbs Craving. I loves me some carbs. I even have a t-shirt that says so. It’s cute. You mad. I guess I always loved them. Mama says when I was a toddler, I used to get the entire loaf of bread, tear open the package, then eat all of the inside of each slice while leaving the crust. Just like any self-respecting kid. Kids don’t effs with crust. Little do they know that the crust gives bread character. My parents would find me surrounded by like 20 different bread crusts. Like, I’d straight up put them in a circle around me. Sitting smack dab in the middle of my crime. Listening to these types of stories confirms that no one should’ve left me alone for too long (I was on that creative kick) and that I probably cost my parents a lot of money. Youngest child ish.

5. The Miracles. Naw, I didn’t turn water into Moscato or anything like that. I mean, as in “Smokey Robinson and the…” Well, actually this involves Smokey in his solo days. My favorite aunt says her fondest memory of me was when we used to listen to Smokey records together. Lawd, when we talk about stans, she was a Smokey STAN. She lusted after that man so. Honestly, when I first heard him, I thought he was a chick. But, that’s neither here nor there, because he is dopeness. He laid down that true falsetto. I’m lookin’ at you, The Nightmare. Unfortunately. Anyway, she and I would dance around her apartment singing his late 80s hit “What’s Too Much”. Just straight jammin’. On the one. Even at three years old, I knew what was up. I could barely talk, and I was screaming out, “WHAT’S TOO MUCH!!” I knew good music when I heard it.

Well, that about wraps up my memory lane e-stroll. My feets fangers is tiiid. What are your fondest memories as chirruns, Pinchers? I know you got some funny ones in you! And be honest, do you think I should tell my cigarette story to the people behind those Truth ads?*** Speak on it.

 

Love ya like Hollyweird loves to breakup longlasting marriages,

Cheekie

 

 

 

 

 

*Obviously, I still have that desire now.
**The HELL them at now?!
***That one is my favorite ad of theirs, by the way. UNCOUTH!

Friday Foolery: Teach Me How To Dora

It’s probably no secret to you Pinchers (those who know me in real life and/or the e-life), that I’m a big kid. I mean, I wrote a damn love letter to Pixar. I’m also, obviously, a huge proponent of ignant ish.

When you combine those two things together, it’s like giving me manna while I’ve been in the wilderness for 40 days and 40 nights. The following video incorporates said combo:

Let’s explore it live:

0:05 – Ok, right off the effing bat. Their VOICES. They sound higher than a kite in Afghanistan.

0:13 – LOL. Why are these voiceovers so accurate?!

0:21 – “Leggo, leggo!” And no they are NOT playing some damn Khia. Dora’s peeps are poppin’ their neck and their back. I cannot deal with this.

0:31 – Not the birds! “Oh, shit there go some birds.” Yeah, ALL them is high.

1:01 – “They got cakes and presents and expensive shit.” They are indeed, quite fancy. Huh.

1:05 – AHAHAHA @ Diego randomly roasting that po’ chile with the ponytail. Or was that still Dora? This one-man ass show. Anyway. Like, errbody else got their hurr did, and this heaux had the nerve to up and show up with a scrunchie in her head. Rude!

1:26 – OMG, did she seriously ask her if she took a bath today because she stank? Un. Couth. Like, if there was any less couth at this party, it’ll be Roseanne’s crib.

1:35 – BWAHAHA! She gave her a “cheap ass crown” and some shoes. I bet they came from Chernin’s Shoe Outlet. Ol’ plastic industrial shoes. And that crown was straight out of a quarter machine.

1:54 – “Oh, that bitch about to need a brush in that green dress.” *hollers* She came straight outta bed.

1:59 – “Ol’ fake ass snow white bitch.” LAWD. Is she talkin mess during the effing procession?!

2:03 – That bish in the pink! She STEADY talmbout folks! I am about to fall out.

2:10 – “Look at me, I’m clappin’ and shit and I don’t e’en know that bish. And she think she cute!” *DEAD*

2:33 – “She just touched my shoulder.” I appreciate this fool’s attention to detail. These little mumbling side-comments are the best.

2:45 – O_O They. Are. Teaching. You. How. To. Dougie. *goes home*

3:15 – WHY does this actually look like the dougie? It is way too similar. This is some divine order ish.

3:31 – The “ay-yi-yi” and “burr” at the end bout kilt me. I am DONE with all forms of media.

A hot boiling mess. Let me find out they did something this foolish for The Backyardigans (my nephew’s fave show) and I will cut up.

Happy Friday, Pinchers. May your weekend be fillt (filled, in English) with Dougie instruction and expensive parties with cakes n’ shit.

 

Love ya like Snooki loves her pickles (in all forms, apparently),

Cheekie

Mama Cheekie and The Slick Swindle

Mama Cheekie might as well rock the eye patch...

So, I’ve introduced you Pinchers to Mama Cheekie some time back. And of course, those who follow me on the twittah know her fondly. It should be no surprise to you that I have more material from her.

A lot of kids say that they want to be their parents when they grow up, but I don’t say that ish in vain. I seriously want to incorporate the way she does things into my life. One of those things is the art of the swindle. I’m telling you, that lady is slicker than a pair of Rick James’ red leather boots. She swindled folks before Streetz made it a hashtag.

I’ll give ya two examples:

1. The Cell Phone Bill.

I used to be on a joint account with Mama Cheekie not too long ago and I cannot tell you how many phone calls she’s made to the company I’ve witnessed. I can’t even tell you the last time she paid a full bill. I’m not gonna mention the company because their spambot may swoop down on my eCrib, but their name rhymes with Jay-Free-and-Tree. Anyway, she would call them up and sweet talk them into lowering her bill. She’s gotten nearly 100% taken off her bill one time just for a couple of dropped calls. Even though we no longer share an account, she still does this. We had the following convo on the phone one time:

Cheekie: So, did you call [cell phone company with blue and white logo]?
Mama Cheekie: Yeah, I got a 25 dollar credit and 5000 free minutes.
Cheekie: How’d you do that?
Mama Cheekie: Told them I was getting dropped calls, which was true. I had to talk to a man, though.
Cheekie: What do you mean, you had to talk to a man?
Mama Cheekie: So, I can properly sweet-talk them. It works better with men.
Cheekie: What if you get a woman?
Mama Cheekie: That’s happened before. When a woman customer rep answers, I usually say, “oops, sorry, wrong number” and try again and again until I get a man.
Cheekie: *falls out giggling* I CANNOT WITH YOU!

A. Mess.

The second example…

2. The Return.

Now, this story is recent and mainly the reason I knew I HAD to write a separate post about her swindles. I can’t even do it justice without writing the entire story out in phone call script-form…

Mama Cheekie: I had to return those stretch pants to [department store that rhymes with Marsons Query Pot].
Cheekie: What was wrong with ‘em?
Mama Cheekie: Eh, I didn’t like the material. Too thick.
Cheekie: Did you find the receipt? (she told me prior that she wasn’t able to find it and even asked if I had it, since I had went shopping with her that day)
Mama Cheekie: Nope, but they took it back anyway. They gave me a store-credit for $16.00 and remember, I only paid $10.00.*
Cheekie: How’d you get it for 16.00, though?
Mama Cheekie: That’s how much it cost now.
Cheekie: o_O Wow, guess it’s good you didn’t have the receipt, then.
Mama Cheekie: Mmmhmm.
Cheekie: So, what did you tell them when they asked you what was wrong with it?
Mama Cheekie: I said it was a hole in it.
Cheekie: AHAHAHA, was that even true?!
Mama Cheekie: Yeah, there was a little hole, but I made it a little bigger so they can see it better.
Cheekie: O_O BWAHAAHAHAAAA Mama, that is wrong!
Mama Cheekie: What?! I told ‘em they were too thick, too.
Cheekie: So, you got over on ‘em. I take it the cashier was a man?
Mama Cheekie: Nope, a woman.
Cheekie: Ah…
Mama Cheekie: She was gay.
Cheekie: *DIES*

Ya’ll see why I know for sure foolery is genetic?! She is the hottest of messes. I cannot believe my older sister when she says she wasn’t this foolish when she was younger. Like, if I’m already this foolish now, that means I will get even foolery-er (yes, I did) as I age?! Aging FTW!

Pinchers, the floor is yours, if you haven’t already died on it from reading my mama’s silliness, that is. In what ways do you swindle folks? Especially if it means putting money (back) in your pocket. Do your parents got that slickness down pat, too?

 

Love ya like the Morehouse Plastics love murses,

Cheekie

 

 

*A little side-tidbit: Mama Cheeks LOVES her some bargains. She stays bragging about the latest deal she got. It’s funny because she is also a high-maintenance classy chick, but she figured she got all of that full-price name-brand shopping outta her system in her younger years and would rather shop the thrifty way now. She’s adorable.

Monday Memories: Going Against the Mainstream’s Current

*CHEEKIE NOTE*: This week brings another throwback from my collab blog. You may or may not have read it. Hope you enjoy! Oh, and eff a Monday.

 

Anyone who knows me can attest to my screenwriter aspiration. Due to said aspiration, I’m usually studying the industry with obsession. One particular hot word floating around amongst fellow screenwriters is: mainstream. And the desire to fit into its mold. Usually this desire is fueled due to one reason: mainstream = money.

Now, the long-accepted axiom is that the mainstream consists of White people. They are mainstream mainly because they make up the most movie ticket sales, thus they are worth more money as a whole. In order for the majority to spend money, the movies must have their stamp of approval. And therein lies the conundrum.

One major requirement in terms of receiving that stamp of approval is an actor. Usually when discussing commercially successful films, the actor (or actors) have the major burden of carrying the film. Selling the film heavily relies on the actors chosen. And for a while now, the widely-known argument has been that Blacks can’t be mainstream because Whites can’t identify with them.

To that, I offer this pictorial response:

Maybe he’s White with a hell of a tan?

Yeah, him. Now, I’ve heard he’s only where he is because he’s one of the “safe” Black actors. And that may be true. He is mostly loved and accepted by mainstream America and hasn’t really been controversially outspoken in terms of race relations and tension-filled topics of that like. But, still, that’s not the point. The argument is that Whites can’t identify with Black actors because they don’t look like them. No matter how “safe” Will Smith is, he’s still Black. Still at the opposite end of the color spectrum. And he has managed to portray roles written for mainstream White males, portray roles that don’t center around his race and has even surpassed Mr. Mainstream himself in terms of consecutive box office sales: Tom Cruise.

Why can’t Black actors be the star of mainstream films? Why does, as soon as you slap a Black actor into the headlining role, it is labeled a “Black film”?. Now, don’t get me wrong, there are certain films that pertain to our specific culture that is very different from that of White culture. They highlight experiences that are unique to Blacks; things that Whites don’t experience or necessarily understand. And I’m not saying those films are necessarily bad things. What’s bad is we are pigeonholed into the same types of films, featuring the same types of actors, doing the same types of things. It becomes bad when it’s our only option.

Do we always gather around mile-long tables filled with soul-food, do the Electric Slide in forest preserves, dress up in old lady drag, overcome racial injustice, lament about our no-good men, or save our downtrodden women from their abusive husband? None of these aspects of our lives are things to be ashamed of, but they’re not all of who we are. We aren’t just big mamas, we’re also lawyers. We’re not just gossiping in barber shops, we’re saving lives from alien abduction. We’re not just hanging around neck-rolling with our girlfriends, we’re finding love with that person we least expected to find love with. We’re not just finding redemption in an urban jail cell, we’re teaching urban classrooms (That’s right, other than what movies lead you to believe, there are actually Black knights saving the urban classrooms).

You mean to tell me that had equally talented Black actors portrayed Meg Ryan’s and Billy Crystal’s characters in “When Harry Met Sally” and everything else remained the same that the hugely received thesis, “Can men and women be friends?” wouldn’t have still resonated with the majority of audiences? This is what I’m talking about, my people. Don’t feed me the bull that it’s the actor that the audience mainly connects with, because I’m not hungry. It’s the story that leaves an impression dented into our heads…our souls. Not how the character looked, but the choices they made.

And there is absolutely no proof that we can’t tell these stories. I think it’s pretty telling that unless there is some overt display of slang in the dialogue or an explicit description of race written in a script that says otherwise, a reader automatically assumes the lead character is male. Which means, White is the default.

Set “White” as default? Naw, I’m un-checking that option.

Love ya like Will Smith loves 100 million dollar box offices,

Cheekie

Friday Foolery: Da Bess Mayne

I said it then, and I’ll say it now. The following nicca will always remain in my heart in terms of freestyles. Why? Well, Jadakiss, because he was the essence of quite possibly the best freestyle battle in the history of eight-count bars.

Link to video

Off the top of the dome:

0:13 – Here’s Marv-O. He says “it’s me again.” How hilarious would it be if this was the first video he made…ever? Because it’s the first (and last) I’ve ever seen. Then again, I didn’t go searching for any other ones so don’t take my word as gospel.

0:21 – And the contenders are shown! Eli Porter and Envy. Ya’ll see how Eli is already SO over this right nah?

0:28 – OK. HOL’ UP. Why is ol’ dude’s (the host) arms around the middle judge like that? Ya’ll got something to tell us? I mean, I coulda got ya’ll a present, damn. Keeping secrets and ish.

0:31 – And look how they looking at the contestants, like, “Wow, this is effed up, I already know I’m bout to laugh.” Actually, I’m projecting there. They just all look high.

0:58 – Envy look like a tan Flava Flav.

1:07 – Don’t even lie. Even as Envy is spittin’, ya’ll looking at Eli right now. He steals the show with just a look. In the other direction.

1:29 – I love when Envy says the line, “never rap with a stutter” and he trips over the line a bit. Yeah, I noticed! Calling you owwwt!

1:54 – Also, I bet ya’ll jealous of that backdrop they got going. Late night TV shows ain’t got nuffin on that spray paint backdrop.

2:04 – These transitions suck on ice so damn hard.

2:15 – Pay homage to “I’m the bess mayne, I deed it.” Excuse me, but your grandchildren gonna be learning about this at an ivy league Hip-Hop intro class, know dis.  It is that golden. o_O

2:17 through 2:47 – AND HERE LIES THE BEST MOMENT OF SILENCE IN THE HISTORY OF CRICKETS. This kilt me nine times and three quarters, I just couldn’t take it. Look at Envy’s double-take! Lawd, why do things gotta be this glorious?! This ho (*points to self*) is not worthy. He was straight meditating. And they had the nerve to cut off the music so his silence could go a cappella?! That entire Windows 95 production team ain’t spit!

2:59 – “You’re like Rosie O’Donnell, at a bisexual bridal shower.” HAHAHAHA, what a way to make a comeback. Dopeness.

3:08 – I love how he says “I’m da bess” and then proceeds to say “I told ya that” like “Oh, right, I just remembered I said that already.”

3:15 – LOL @ his self-aware ass. He messed up, but he still on top, ya’ll. And guess what, bishes? He will never flop. *whips hair*

3:22 – DAYUMMMM. “He need to stay in the shade; and no wonder why he came out, he already in the gay parade.” Ok, other than for the obvious…that pause was worth it. Hot line, yo. Hot.

3:26 – WHO. PUT. THAT. HEART. THERE?! *stops, drops, and rolls all over the floor, cuttin’ up*

3:45 – Man. I’m with the judge in the red throwback. Just let it out, ya’ll! It’s cathartic. I love how the host trying to stay neutral. Just like a good host. Do your thing, young brotha.

3:55 – That host cannot keep his hands off that middle judge! Sprung self!

4:15 – Yeah, that’s right, red throwback! He messed up a couple times, but he stepped up. That is Eli’s testimony. That is how you be the best. Mess up a couple times, then step the eff up.

4:20 – This dude in the middle is obviously trying to make the third dude make the final decision. Trying to get suspenseful, much? I see you.

4:32 – *spits out drink* “Both of ‘em did good, but I gotta give it do Envy, because he did great. *cheese for the camera*” LMAO. You just said, both of em did GOOD. How did Envy all of a sudden do great? Conspiracy!

Antyway, ya’ll know how I feel. Eli was robbed. Them judges climbed through his figurative window and snatched his people up. In this case, his people is his title. Booooo. Hiss.

But, back to the important part. That pause. Homies, that pause is so long, I bet major and momentous events could’ve occurred during that time. What I imagine (and bet) happened during that pause:

– A law school exam was started and completed.
— Three babies and 6 million roaches were born.
— A poodle humped a rottweiler and was pleased.
— A new blog post appeared on a popular blog and the third commenter exclaimed that they were first.
— The fail whale on Twitter hibernated on everyone’s timelines.
— A young chap came out of the closet whipping his hair back and forth in slow motion.
— President Barack Obama refused several requests that he learns how to dougie…in public, at least.
— The winter season began.

Accurate enough, right?

This entire video, in general, though? Effing. Legendary. Frankly, I think this entire Friday Foolery series means nothing without this video being here. And that’s a scientific fact for yo ass.

Pinchers, make it do what it do, baby. Shout-out your favorite line from the battle! Tell me what you could’ve accomplished during the Eli Pause. Spit some bars if that’s what you fancy or if you’re fancy.

Happy Friday. Flex on the devil. And his demons.

Love ya like the Jersey Shore loves t-shirt TIME,

Cheekie

Nom Nom Nom: School Snack Attack

Yeah, I see why I chose junk food over this nitrates-loaf.

I wish nostalgic started with a “w” so I could make a cutesy title for Wednesday.

Recently, there’s been a ginormous surge in Facebook friend requests from ninjas I knew in elementary school. This got me feeling all Barbara Streisand as I frolicked through the memories in the corner of my mind. Got me sitting here wondering how everyone aged and daydreaming about the days of yore. When I was a wee Cheekie. When my cheeks were even more pinchable than they are now and yet I was more likely to cut a bish if anyone pinched them.

One particular aspect of my elementary school — wait… *record scratch* Hol’ up. WHY am I callin’ it “elementary school” when I know dayum well I say “grammar school?” Oh, I’m fancy, huh? Naw, I’m still down. *B-Boy stance* — I mean, one particular aspect of my grammar school times was the cafeteria. And my fondest memories have absolutely nothing to do with the preservative burgers they call food, it was the snacks that ruled the cafeteria at my joint.

It’ll take forever to list ‘em all, and Lawd knows no one has time for that (unless you live in a boring place like Utah, then you have time for everything. #ignorantshotsfired). So, I’ll just list my top five. Gimme a high five!*

1. The Hot Pickle. Excuse me, you thought you were cool? No, trick, no. You were not the ish until you made that pop sound using your tongue and the roof of your mouth after biting into a hot pickle. Yes, you could’ve gotten “sour”, like the Average Tyrone, but if you got that young hot pickle? You were gangsta. I’ve always loved me some spicy stuff (still do), but I could only eat these in moderation. Even though I loved them so. Let’s just say that I’d rather sacrifice my vice than having to introduce vaseline (old school) to my other cheeks. o_O

2. The Hot-Sauced Doritos. Oh, praise Him, this is still one of my weaknesses to this day. I’ve calmed down on them since my more youthful years (shiiiit, I’m STILL youthful, Fountain of Youth BISH), but I used to go SO hard on Doritos with hot sauce. I used to drench those mofos with hot sauce so much, there would be a pool of hot sauce remaining after I scraped up the last crumb. I had my Doritos swimming at a hot sauce waterpark. It was so obnoxious and now that I think about it as a current grown folk (i.e. more rational), I want to backhand younger Cheekie for wasting all that good hot sauce. If I’ve done my fake calculations correctly, I could’ve had 4 extra bottles of hot sauce right now. SON OF A –

3. The Frooties. Ya’ll remember the penny candy lady? The one who illegaly sold candy out of her crib? Shoot, ya’ll remember penny candy period? Well, my favorite was Chews and Frooties, with a slight advantage to Frooties. I would murder a huge bag of those things and I’d only be out of, like, 50 cents. Those were the days, Archie and Edith. Hell, my sister Chyna upped and surprised me by buying me two big ol’ bags of Frooties recently. She wins at sibling-hood. *as my teeth Leiomy-drop** due to all that torture*

4. The Butter Cookies. Ah, the classic cafeteria snack. The cafeteria ladies used to set up this table in the corner of the lunchroom (another non-bougie switch from “cafeteria”…I know damn well I said “lunchroom” back then) and sell these buttery versions of manna for a quarter. This snack is truly a heart-attack waiting to happen classic. Hell, Mama Cheekie — to this day — lusts for these since she ate them when she was a young buck at school as well. It’s hard to find some true butter cookies unless you frequent the hole-in-the-wall chicken shack. Which I proudly do. Harolds FTW. As much as I liked these, they still didn’t hold a candle to…

5. The Caramel Cake. JesusMaryJoseph, I just had a food-gasm right nah. Just thinking about it. Next to the butter cookies, the lunchroom ladies would set up a baking pan full of caramel cake slices, fresh out of the oven, of which they’d sell for 50 cents. And I’m not talking about caramel icing. Let’s get this straight right the eff now. I mean, ooey-gooey warm caramel. Those cakes left me in such a perpetual state of bliss, I am mighty sure I pissed platinum during those days. I remember feeling the ultimate butthurtness when they stopped selling them and I went on a rampage trying to find them at stores, but everyone is up on that icing blasphemy. That ain’t caramel! I know caramel (*points to skin*), and that ain’t no caramel. Blech. But, you know who really reigns supreme in that area? My auntie! She makes THEE best caramel cake in the history of flour. I remember I tasted it at a family gathering one day and was like, ‘Um, why come no one told me ’bout this?!” I was heated that I went about 13 years without knowing the heaven she made in the oven. Where dey do dat at? #FamilyFAIL. Once I got the true benefits from her delectable pastries, she moved to New Orleans. FML. *as I plan to visit her in the near future on some “Heywherethecakeat? It’s so great to see you! *hugs* Thecake, doe.” ish.*

And that wraps up the list. Thank goodness it’s over because my tummy is in that growling mode and that’s never a good thing.***

Pinchers! Share your favorite school snacks! And while you’re sharing, if you can make a caramel cake like the one described above, send it my way. I will pay you in pinches. You pay the shipping & handling charges. Much love.

Love ya like Brian Pumper loves to look like a funhouse mirror Lloyd Banks,

Cheekie

*”We’re brothers. We’re happy and we’re singing and we’re colored.” is what truly precedes this sentence and everyone knows that. It is law.
**So, apparently her name is spelt “Leoimy” and not “Leyomi?” I just found this out, TODAY. Ok, whichever one of you anonymous internet ninjas made me think this queen’s name was spelt like the latter? I wish for you an entire lifetime of Crocs fashion shows. The nerve. And nobody had the ego heart to correct me after all this time?! Hmph.
***My tummy seems to growl at the worst times, like during an exam when I was in college (everyone is quiet) or during a meeting at work (everyone is quiet and trying to stay awake). FML.