...or you can sit Indian style on the rug.


Once upon a time there was a scoundrel named Freshicca Sarah Parker. She was a scoundrel in many ways. Not only did she keep it real, like the young folks say, and crunk, like the niggas say, not only that... but she was funny. She sat at the cool kids table and most of the young girls and gays looked up to her. The male bloggers who posted about how they wanted they dick sucked by whimmints liked her, too, but they respected her because she could jones on them to teras. 


She once told a funny story. Its over there on the bookshelf:

http://www.crunktastical.net/2007/06/04/cupcakin-with-beyonce/

There was this other scoundrel.... The Creator Behind Beyonceitis, who was a scoundrel with the vigor. He wasn't in with the crowds. He didn't parking lot pimp with the rest of them (Twitter). He didn't put his self out there like some hoes (I won't be messy). But he kept it real, like the young folks say. He would tell us about Beyonce and how we should respect her and abide by her rules until further notice. Beyonceitis brought the funny, the truth, and was the predecessor to EVERY FUCKING BODY and they momma on the Internet tryna be funny. Some of y'all, me at times, are just regurgitating shit he's said. When he said it, it was funny. When you say it, I pray for your social life. 


He told a story that you may find funny too. It's over there on my desk. I was just reading it the other night:

http://wigcrypt.blogspot.com/2008/04/frequently-asked-questions-about.html

I don't know whether Fresh or Beyonceitis called Daniel "Julez" Smith II "Lil' Creole Pimp" first, during a time where he was known only as Baby Daniel. I don't know. I don't remember. I wasn't keeping count. I didn't know it'd be so important three to four years later. My bad! All I know is it was funny as fuck!

These two posts I linked you to exhibit some type of fuckery involving Baby Daniel being a hard up badass who sells drugs [vitamins] and owns a tazer. That pwns all that shit you knew before you read humor blogs. Yes, pwns. A month before that Beyonceitis post I linked you to, I started The Lil' Creole Pimp Chronicles.

It's a quick story that I know by heart, so I'll just tell it to you right quick:

http://creolepimp.blogspot.com/2008/03/momma-just-stop.html

It was a parody site in the same vein as Fake Janice Combs. I see you are already getting up to go see who the hell she is. Her story is right here:

http://fakejanicecombs.com/2006/09/18/i-guess-this-boy-thinks-ima-babysit-all-these-children/

You know how I say (tweet) Tee-Tee. You ever go "who the hell?" That's Beyonce. Uncle Joe? Jay-Z. Cousin Angie... if you didn't understand who Cousin Angie was please please please, I beg of you, unfollow me. Stupid is contagious in the springtime. And of course, Solange is "my mammy".

._. I'm not enthused either.

You get the picture. Now, here's what happened next. Solange found out I was using her babychile as a base for a fake, fictional, totally joking dude type thing but it didn't resonate well on the homefront. Solange called Beyonce, Michelle, and Angie and they brought that Chevy to a real slow creep but left Kizzy ass at home because she can't do shit right. Basically, at certain times Blogger wouldn't let me post. My Creole Pimp Gmail account would sometimes be suspended! My Photobucket account... unscathed.#kanyeshrug.

I slowly chilled out with the whole running gag of "I'm Solange's bratty, cussaholic, son and I hate that bitch". I didn't stop completely but... After reading one of her Okay Player posts about liking "some blogs OTHERS NOT SO MUCH" and seeing her act up on the news about Jay & Bey, I decided I didn't wanna fuck with her. I have this debilitating fear that she's gonna catch me in the Wal-Mart produce aisle, picking some greens for my momma and turn her buggy over on my ass. Matter fact, when I see a small, beige curly haired boy in Wal-Mart, I get scared. My 10 year old cousin's best friend looks JUST. LIKE. BABY. DANIEL. I think it's him. I'm scared of him. He HAS to be a sleeper agent.

But I digress.

So now you probably understand why Solange blocked me on Twitter. Or why Beyonce wrote Ring The Alarm. Or why Chris Brown hit Rih... no. No. Irrelevant. 


Questions?

Bruh Mane Laflare. This shit right here... This just makes me wanna get back in the studio and complete The No Thanks Chronicles mixtape. Bing bing bing and zing zing zing with zest zest zest. ...and if you don't know now you know.

It's election time. So you know what that means. The race draft is here again! Confetti for everyone. Finally, a chance once a year to get rid of all you bad eggs. Other races will be happy to claim for you for a limited time, then they'll realize why we gave you up. No, this isn't racist. Confetti for everyone.

The race draft consists of three (3) rounds of bidding, two (2) rounds of counter-bidding and one (1) round of non-refundable trades. Right now, we have to campaign. It's a week away, Nov 10, and I've done a suck ass job of promoting it. I'm sure you know that Beyonce has a new video dropping Thursday so we got pushed back so she wouldn't annihilate our fun. But enough about that.

Bidding is self explanatory. A quote unquote race puts a person on the board for a specific person from another race that they would like to have. A trade, if you will. Counter-bidding. A person is unofficially agreed to be drafted only if another race is willing to trade them for somebody else. Example, "We'll take America Ferrera from the Latinos for the ballplayer formerly known as Chad Johnson only if the Caucasians officially give us Amber Rose." This example works out, because white people love them some Ugly Betty and us Blacks are really embarrassed by young Chadwick. We also think Amber is a bad bitch. We temporarily take in America as a black, until we can trade her in for Amber when counterbidding is applicable. Everybody wins. And the non-refundable trades are the reason we're stuck with the Clintons, Justin Timberlake, and Amy Winehouse. Non-refundable trades cannot be counter-bid or traded until the next draft year.

Right now, top 10 possible bids.

Wig Crypt is now hiring.

First of all, where props are due to WYGBA. Secondly, is her cooking that damn good or is shawty just really sure that Dominique's pussy don't sit up as high as hers? I wonder if "I make a mean tetrazzini that would make you leave good pussy" makes a hot selling point in your craigslist profile?


Hmm...


Either way, Dominique's chicken tetrazzini is hereby a new item on the Creole Pimp Dolla Menu.

Making that ass roll like some 24s, then this nigga came and fucked everything up... or was it too late?

You be the judge.

 I don't see the problem... Me and the STREPT THROAT CLIQUE [I gotta stay awat from Fresh's comments section] did the damn thing on this one.

We interrupt this return of fuckery to give you a word from our sponsors:

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Never before seen and not sold in stores, the LCPC Creole Dictionary is a collector's item like no other. Why should we continue to plug this product? You've had enough time to get your checkbook out by now.

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Use only, credit, debit, check, and/or money order. No CODs. No IOUs. No cheeseburgers in brown paper bags.

We interrupt this brief hiatus to give you the business....

Teyana Taylor... strong jaw or not... I'ma put you on my team one of these days. You heard 'bout me and Zahara, Teyana? I dumped her. Yep. Somebody  got a flick on YouTube of ya boy getting down with them bootylicious girls at the Esscence Music Fest like it was Freaknik. She was tryna throw shade on my game, rolling her neck and pointing her finger and click her tongue. She got WAY outta line. Shit, I drove my Momma all the way to Esscene Music Fest on my bike and I was gonna have fun like or not, Zahara. But anyway, Teyana, what's the deal? You gon' come fuck with your boy or not?

We ain't gon even talk about my Momma and her highlighter legs.

Presented by everything the 90s threw up

I was expecting an ode to WRECKS-N-EFFECT or BLACKSTREET. This ain't even worthy of being label fuckery.

I'm not impressed. One bit. NEXT!

I can't lie, I was intrigued by the whole theme of the video (because, y'know... I'm a 90s connoisseur) but um... this piece of hot donkey shit... no. I want a refund and I demand a recount.

I was mos def cranking that casket nap right before the two minute mark. But I can't talk... I came out the womb with the Gumby fade which naturally progressed into a mohawk... But those are just my Creolian genes at work.

HOWEVER... Butta Creme is now officially available on the Creole Pimp's Dolla Menu. Foot long fingernails and all. But that one chick got a 5Ton-4Head 'do so I'ma have to next her ass.

Readers looky here...

Every now and then I come across some shit that proves...

...how much rules the world...

...but I cannot hate. I wanna give them a Nobel Prize STAT!

I know they sorta young for me but give 'em like 4 years. They gon' be on my like forehead on 5TON4HEAD. I know they gon' be jocking me. But I don't know if I'ma get with 'em. I don't like the family. Between Justin Combs and Quincy... I could shank the molasses outta both of them. And don't get me started on the GRANNY.