...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?

In case you care... I really don't myself. I'm just waiting on the Leona Punchout video to drop. But this shit right here? This shit? ON A DAY THAT THE LORD MADE!? DeAndre, bruh? Nah, mayne. For good measure, let's blame Beyonce for both situations and move on. Especially for the Sharpie hairline.

That nigga hair DO look like rollie pollies, though

It's gon' take a whole 'lotta Jones BBQ and Foot Massage [Youtube it] for me to get over this one. Now bear with me. I know you don't like kitchen ass nigga made fuckery raising up ya blood sugar, but this is well worth it. If you stomach this fuckery for at least two minutes you'll see a Brandy (act like you don't see the screenshot, her). Damn. Just damn.

And Janet.

Just damn.

Leave Bow Wow alone!

:mad:

Sure, Bow Wow said he was HOMOPHOBIC... that's his business.



 Is you mad, because Bow Wow didn't want no boy that likes boys cutting his hair? That's that mayne. If he don't want some possibly gay guy feeling and rubbing and caressing and finger his scalp, then let that nigga not want that. Bow Wow ain't never did nothing to nobody. You won't buy his record, because he's homophobic. Bow Wow is a good man. He tried to make an honest woman outta Ciara, Dollicia, Omarion and Soulja Boy. This how you treat him? Despicable

I, myself, don't blame him. That's why I don't let gay men cut my hair. Ain't no telling who be doing what with they hands these days. I only let my Granny comb, moisturize, perm, and rod my hair. Only thing she do with her hands is fondle my Pop Pop's nutts. I can trust her. I can't trust gay men.

I don't want no gay man touching my head, even though all he's doing is giving me a line. That's gay.

I also don't want no gay man preparing my sammiches at McDonald's. Ain't no telling what they do to my sammich when I'm waiting at the drive thru. Niggas these days is nasty. A straight man would never fuck over my sammich, even if I had beef with him. He wouldn't kick my patty back and forth to his co-workers like a hockey puck,  dress my sammich, then serve it to me like ain't nothing wrong. But a gay men? Nah... Gay men fixing your food... I don't care if it was my last meal. That's still gay.

I also don't want a gay man installing my cable. You watch flicks. You be at the adult bookstore on late Thursday nights/early Friday mornings. You watch Xtube. You see the themed movies. You know about the cable man hooking up your TV, then hooking you up. You know how cable men get down. You know all cable men are naked underneath that dark navy jumpsuit. A straight brother? Cool, he can hook my DirecTV/Comcast up anyday. I can trust him. A gay dude? Nah, that's gay homie.

I don't even want a gay dude's kidney. I don't care if he had the best kidney in the world. I don't care if he was a virgin. Never even touched a dick NOT EVEN HIS OWN. He can be kin to Obama. I don't give a fuck. I'd just die. Tell my momma I love her, then  die. I can't have gay parts in me. That's gay.



Hop off Bow Wow's nuts, yo'. He is already short. Now you want him to get molested by a man? AGAIN!? Let that bitch breathe.

Can somebody tell Kelly that I'm not speaking to her and that she's been blacklisted and that she is a big, dumbass because we are going through economic hardships and the Wig Crypt's production is down 64% and she ain't going nowhere until she give us back everything WE paid for:

1. The wigs.
2. The quick weaves.
3. The tits. (Better show me some tits or die*)
4. The Corolla that my momma been letting her drive.
5. The career that we gave her and she lost.


*Name that movie