...news at eleven. But right now, let's talk about something that may actually happen.

Taylor Swift may snatch us all bald in 2010. Me. You. Yo' momma. Yo' cousin too. Why? Ion't know. Blame Kanye. Blame Beyonce. I mean, really. Blame them. Some drunk man gave a drunk rant on national TV about some Marmalade being did dirty and it aired back to back in one night and was scrutinized like a motor scooter the following days. INTO OBLIVION! Not that it got on our nerves or anything.

But that's neither here nor there.

Taylor Swift is blowing the fuck up. Don't get me wrong. Miss Swift was well on her way to super stardom... In her respective genre. She was killing the game. The country game. She was selling more than any other relevant, semi-relevant, and otherwise bitch in the game. Any game. Country. Hip-Hop. R&B. New Jack Swing. Jacks. Uno. House. Any game imaginable. Taylor's record "Fearless," available on iTunes, Amazon, and my trunk was selling. She was selling records. Selling 'em out! Fearless was selling out like Micheal Steele.

But that's neither here nor there nor Wal-Mart, where Fearless is also available.


Taylor was something to fuck with. Now naturally, if Taylor wished to sell music to a broader audience of people in this day and age, only one thing would have crossed the minds of the people backing her. Crossover appeal. Now I'm not sure if Fearless was that album or not, because I'm not big on my Taylor Swift or my country music. I've decided that country music isn't my cup of tea, much like time travel. Time travel is too close to yesterday and yesterday is too close to slavery, not saying country music is too close to slavery.

But that's neither here nor there nor Wal-Mart across from Planned Parenthood, down the street, where Fearless, Taylor Swift's CRITICALLY ACLLAIMED album is available for purchasing and leasing.


I keep digressing before I get the chance to get to my point. What this post is about is Grammy night. Beyonce is up for about most of the damn show. Taylor isn't too far behind, and that's quiet alright. She deserves it. She's doing what no other country star managed to do. Become relevant in music's forefront without being the butt of a joke by a majority. Hell, even Miley "Buss It Wide Open And Tell Her Bring The Best Of Both Worlds Back" Cyrus is becoming a lampshade* of her own self.

My problem is... Taylor's success was earned yet given to her. Kanye's antic caused many a motherfucker to pity Taylor. Now I don't know about you, but I know about us. Speaking on behalf of the fine people in the Chama Affialites, "You can take your pity and shove it." Pity is stupid. Sympathy's cool. Pity? Pity is what I feel for Ciara and LeToya. They working for it, but can't get it and they just look silly which makes me feel bad for 'em. Pity is what I feel for Usher's post-marriage career. Guesting on Gucci Mane tracks when you were once the shit in your own right(s)? I guess.

But that's neither here nor there nor Wal-Mart which is on the way to Planned Parenthood which is not too far from Checkers where the album's release party will be held. Hopefully. Which is where Taylor Swift's Fearless is being handed to those who purchase any combo meal on the menu.


Taylor has risen to stardom, respectively. Her backers have done well by her. Kayne did her a huge favor. MTV, The View, Ellen, Helen, Gellin', Melon all hyped up the affair, which seemed appropriate at the time, but in hindsight. I mean like... why? John Mayer said it best.

“If you just woke up now [after sleeping under a rock for a quarter decade Patrick Star style. -LCP] and you looked at the backlash on Kanye you’d think that he actually firebombed the stage."

I doubt we'd been this hateful towards bin Laden if we ever found him lounging in Sunshine Cab Company's garage, where he's really hiding. Okay, maybe not. But dammit the persecution of Yeezy would be the equivalent to the prosecution of bin Laden. I'm telling y'all! He is on the set of ABC's Taxi, chillaxing and shit!

But that's neither here nor there nor Wal-Mart some hundred miles outside of 30 Rockerfeller Plaza, which is surprisingly located near a Planned Parenthood, where Taylor Swift's album "Fearless" is being hocked by a street vendor.


I swear that's my last time digressing, you guys. The point is this... If another Taylor Swift beats Beyonce in a section of the award (if it's a questionable win)... I mean, let's dig up some old skeletons while we're at it. Beyonce won Video of the Year at the VMAs, yet she lost Best Female Video. If Beyonce had the best video overall, then by the transitive property she had the best female video. Matter fact... FUCK IT.

I digress. Yes, I digressed. I said I wasn't, but I lied. I digress.

If that shit happens again, believe you me. Taylor be nimble. Taylor be quick. Taylor gon' prove why they call her swift. Also Kanye is nom'd, but I'm sure they'll fuck him over since the world is not through torturing him. Anytime YT has a chance to torture the dark butts, YT does it.

*Lameshade hanging (or simply lampshade) - any element that threatens the audience's willing suspension of disbelief by calling attention to it... and then moving on. [SOURCE: TvTropes]

Shit you don't do to a Creole...

Every now and then you gotta go in the back of that closet...

...and pull out that baseball bat. Y'all got KID FURY all riled up and ready to do the Rack Daddy across a few people's faces. Not really a few people. Just Perez Hilton. That's the cyber  homie, even if  he down for the anit-toddler impersonator cause [WOULD YOU BELIEVE MOTHERFUCKERS HATE ME?!?!] Either way it goes, we got yo' bail money under the mattress!

It's true. My Tee-Tee put in a petition for me to see her sing for the lovely Obamas, who I'm sure will write me a pardon for busting up Bobby Buford's BBQ Hall & Bingo Hut. What you frowning up for? When I say I want hot wings, don't send me no damn semi-mild wings. I like for my shit to be damn near ablaze when they send it to my table, thank you very much. And if it's any other way, somebody's gonna be checking into ER holding they brain in one hand and they heart in the other. I don't play that shit... I don't care if mon Président est noir... I still tote steal.

I'ma change one day though. Just for Sasha...

Nappy hair, don't care.

I got some good news and some bad news...

GOOD NEWS: I'm finna start dating again after my quiet yet ugly separation with Zahara.

BAD NEWS: I'm throw bricks through Necole Bitchie's Pontiac if she don't return my messages...

Funny, right? You think I'm playin?

Life's been hard since them pumpfakin', fugazzi, fugugly fools at Beyonceitis been spreading this libal 'bout ya boy Rumplepimpskin. Everything is changing... I go to the playground, the kids point and laugh. Kick the lil' woodchips in my face... Big Ton aka Latarian Milton aka the fat seven year old that beat his granny up at Wal-Mart won't even help me fight no mo'. I go to preschool and Lil' Rock be tryna jack me for my Legos. Him and his brother be tryna jump me in the corner and shit. I go home and when I yell at my Momma she actually pulls her belt off and threatens to whoop me. SOME NEW SHIT!

My Daddy even started showing up at the house yelling and shit... Talmbout he on MySpace claiming me... telling everybody he got a son who'll beat the fear of God into Hitler and I'm running 'round gettin A's for rhyming shit with freakum.

I can't do this. I'm 'bout to hurt somebody, somewhere. Beyonceitis... I'm callin' ya bluff... I got a surprise for you. I made a few friends with yo' enemies. How ya love that? How'd I do that? Went a lil' something like this:

*****

Three-way phone call with Jennifer Hudson, Ashanti & KeKe Wyatt.

Hudson: So what you sayin' is... Baby Daniel want us to join ranks with us?

Ashanti: Yeah... He stopped by Orange Julius today and I was on break and told me.

Hudson: Did he hurt you girl?

Wyatt: Nah, he couldn't have... I stole his shank last Sunday. It fell out his coat pocket when he was walkin' up the church steps. He ain't gettin' it back, neither.

Ashanti: Nah... he was calm, cool and collected. At first I mistook him for the run of the mill toddler. Then he got close up on me and them blue eyes and that red hair was all too familiar. I yelled raped, because my counselor told me if I was ever in danger to yell rape because people in the vicinity will respond to a rape alert as opposed to a fight... They'll just watch a fight.

Wyatt: That's true. Especially if you stabbing somebody. Somebody may call 911... but other than that they won't try to help.

Ashanti: But I think it's a good idea. I say we should join ranks with him and take down Beyonceitis.

Wyatt: You got me fucked up... I ain't finna fall for no tricks. He probably just tryna get us in the same 'round and pistol whip us again.

Hudson: No he not... He can't pistol whip shit... You ain't read what Beyonceitis said about him? He a punk. He made up his whole gangsta lifestyle.

Wyatt: I don't believe shit they say... They said Beyonce was gonna drop 12 albums this year. One for each month. I can drop 24 albums in one year, TWO for each month and help Avant turn tricks to pay his water bill.

Hudson: Avant turning tricks again?

Wyatt: Yeah... and everytime he fucks up who he call? KeKe! That's who... when Jay fucks up... who he call? Beyoncita! That heffa. Too bad he couldn't return the favor with Deja Vu... she had to call Ne-Yo sugar tank ass to help with that... Shame. If I woulda did Deja Vu it would went number one and then some.

Hudson: Can't we just wait for the government to find a cure for Beyonceitis. I heard they were really close.

Ashanti: Nah, I'm not tryna be like Amerie and just wait... Go overseas and just wait... Have you seen her, lately? Child look like...  Can I put y'all on hold for a minute? I got some business to take care of really quick

KeKe: Don't have us waiting forever.

Ashanit: Cool...

*clears throat*

Wal-Mart Customer Service... Ashanti speaking... How may I help you? You need to call the electronics department for that... Yeah, I think it's just bananas that they make you call the whole damn store, too. Thanks for choosing Wal-Mart... Have a good day.

I'm back y'all.

Wyatt: I know this girl ain't working at no Wal-Mart.

Ashanti: I got bills to pay, KeKe. This good-good ain't enough to them taxes taxed and them bills billed. And its mo' than what you doing, KeKe.

Wyatt: Don't trip. I could work at Wal-Mart way better than you and Beyonce .

Hudson: Ooh... Shany... can you stop by the deli and get me a bag of fried chicken... I ain't had none of that fried chicken in a long time.

Ashanti: You know what? Forget I called y'all. Y'all just strayed away from the whole point... That's why I don't fuck with you big girls... All you do is eat and fight. I'ma just call Mya and Janet liked I had planned on from the get-go.

*Ashanti hangs up*

----------

Watch yo' back Beyonceitis... And remember don't believe it until you see me kicking both ya does in.

Open letter from your boy Iceberg Juelz to Beyonceitis ('cause I'm not through with that ass):

Oh so you wanna go and lie on the boy? Okay... be like that... I'ma come to yo' house and kick in the front doe then I'ma run around to the back doe and kick that one in just because I fucking feel like it. I'ma pull the faucet off the kitchen sink and bust every last window on the motherfucking premises. I'ma turn on every working faucet and leave 'em running until your house is flooding. How you like water damage? HOW YOU LIKE WATER DAMAGE!?!?!?!?!?!?!

I'ma call my cousin Fuqemhous Knowles and my cousin (through marriage) Clitoria Carter and they some fucking beasts. They'll Hulk out on yo' whole squad. You gon' be wishing you woulda made some friends that was my enemies... instead of making enemies with my enemies... it probably don't make no sense now but when we beating the breaks off you then you'll finally understand what the fuck I meant.

I'ma send Kizzy to yo' house in an ice cream truck with Miss Kelly playing over the megaphones. How you like that? HOW YOU LIKE COMEBACK? HUH? HUH? COMEBACK? THAT HUBBA-BUBBA? YOU LIKE THAT SHIT? OF COURSE NOT! WHAT SANE PERSON DOES?

Watch ya back... if I didn't have a criminal record before... I'ma damn sho' have one now!

...The Lil' Creole Pimp Formerly Known As Baby Daniel

So BEYONCEITIS think they can fabricate lies and Photoshop "documents" to put ya boy on blast.

These are lies. LIES! LIES! It's beyond bullshit. If I'm not a goon then Wesley Snipes ain't black. If I'm not a goon then Jackie-O ain't slanging that bajingo just to lay down some vocals. If I ain't a goon then so help me God, may a Kelly Rowland album go platinum in less than a week. Them documents ain't real. Where my social security number at?

And you wanna know how I know that Beyonceitis is lying? I ain't even got no cousins named LaKeesha and Damneesha... I got a cousin named LaNeesha Ann DamnKeesha Dereon so you know they lying. It's just like people on the Internet is using me and my likeness just to get laughs. I mean, who does that? Silly. It's silly that's what it is.

Baby Daniel attended Miss Geraldine's School of Business? That's fugazzi! I graduated from SAVVY FATTY's 2Pac Academy and Foods of Many Nations Emporium. And if I didn't may Cassie hold a 10 second note without Autotone.

Baby Daniel made A's? That's fugazzi... that's just not real. Ion't even like A's on my females let 'lone my 'port card. The last time I brought a 'port card home, my Pop-Pop threw his left Stacy Adam at my adams apple. I ain't tryna fight him back 'cause that mustache do not play.

True... I had "worked" in an animal shelter before... but it was just a front so I could sell dogs to Michael Vick. Honest!

True... I've been selling Tee-Tee's used lacefronts to people. Out of my trunk, though. Me and my Granny split the profits fiddy-fiddy. It's our Ballin' On A Budget line aimed at Ashanti & Teairra Mari.

And I ain't never did no interview with Vibe magazine... I meant to kick down Quincy Jones's door for fabricating that shit. I mean you just don't do that to people. That's not right. Luckily, I lost my shank the other day Quincy.

And when me and Uncle Joe got pulled over that was his Flintstone's vitamins... See, I'm a grade A thug ass nigga specializing in fuckery and espionage... I knows how to hide my drugs real proper-like. I know how to take a police dog's scent away with just one look. That's why they ain't found the goods. Don't test my gangsta. You will fail.

 Beyonceitis's head nigga in charge is hereby banned from the Creole Compound for being a hypocrite. As for these lies... Don't believe it until you see it.

----

In all realness, funniest shit I've read since I discovered Beyonceitis... I almost just gave up on life because my soul was snatched like a gold chain. I've been punk'd

While you were busy trying to remain relevant, Miss Sol-Angel, I was stuck at home with my babysitter Millie. I mean, she better than Kizzy but you coulda at least called Christina Millian or something. I know she not that busy. Fucking for tracks with Cool & Dré can't be an all day job.

Next time I get stuck with Millie, I'ma do some shit that violates the whole Constitution.

You know you getting blacklisted if you lose tonight, right? I ain't playing...


---

SIDEBAR: It's come to my attention that some people don't know the full consequences of being blacklisted. It's simple really. You piss me off. I blacklist you. "We" make sure your life is fucked up from here on out? It can range from slicing your tires at the gas pump while your inside the store arguing with Haji about "putting two on pump eight" to sending Gary Coleman to your crib after pissing in his cornflakes (he'll be hopping mad). If you really make me mad I'll get Kizzy to turn Kathy Baites and give you the "Misery" treatment. Think I'm playing?

Please comb Zahara's hair. It's starting to look like you don't care.

I took her to Chuck E. Cheese's yesterday and when they brought us our pizza she throw a Grade A fit. Talmbout, "I found some hair in my food and dat ain't sanitary!" I was too embarrassed and didn't have the nuts (I ain't tryna get shanked) to tell her the hair fell out of her head. I was TOTALLY embarrased. She caused the biggest scene in the world. Got up on top of the table and started cussing and clicking and speaking in tongues.

As a result, we're not allowed back in any Chuck E. Cheese's in the northeast but she likes their pizza and I plan on bringing her down south, meet the family, and taking her to Houston's local Chuck E. Cheese.

Angelina, do me a HUGE favor. Send Brad to Sally's Hairstore on the corner... tell him to walk in, and ignore the Korean lady. DON'T TRY TO DECIPHER WAS SHE'S SAYING!!! It's usually something like she saying, "Welcome to store. You have money? Good. Very good. Very good pussy." Knowing him he may try to file charges or something. Tell him to tune her out and go to the aisles in the back. He should find beaucoups of barettes back there. Buy 'em all. In all colors... so she can be coordinating. When you get them DON'T TRY TO APPLY THEM TO ZAHARA'S HAIR YOURSELF!!! Call up TRISHA (known for her Photoshop work) and get her to plait it up for ya.

I don't want to see my baby girl looking toe up no mo'. Got her looking like crows taking flight off her dome and shit. The fuck?

And you better take my advice... because you wouldn't wanna cross me.

Somebody is out there jacking my swagger... and I love it. Damn shame though. Lil' shawty hit old girl with that one hitter quitter. Knocked her smooth out! Had her hemmed up on the floor and everything.

Props to whoever pulled out their B'Phone (by Samsung; in stores now) and recorded the footage.

Adds a whole new meaning to not a threat... a promise.

I know the flu is no joke but if my granny gone get sick then so will you. Are you mad Lil' Rock? Mad? Whatchu wanna do? Next time somebody from yo' camp tries to creep up on a come up... I'ma hit you with something worse. Oh yeah... Baby Daniel is on some ghetto chemical warfare type shit, yaddamean?

Oh yeah, my tee-tee wants to offer your daddy a diamond creme facial. It is seriously needed.

I warned you, son.

I warned you....

Chris Brown got into a scuffle during an after-party at a German nightclub. Supposedly, he decided to go all You Got Served and do a dance-battle against some party-goers, when things got heated.

I warned you.

But nah... you STILL laying up w/ 5Ton4Head. So I sent my homie to deal with you. You thought he was a clubhead just because he can Crank That Batman into a Pop Lock and then Coin Drop? Nah, homie... that's just extra-curricular activities. Homie, mollywhooped yo' ass.

Hahahaha... Nan-nanny-boo-boo!

[SHOUTS TO THEFURY FOR THE STORY]

Keep dissing me in yo' comment box and me and Justin gone have to fight.

Tell him to stop get lap dances from MY hoochies...


And tell him to stay off of MY side of the playground. I'm the only light-skindid pimp allowed on the jungle gyms and swing set around them parts.

If y'all refuse to reply, I know a root that'll make you look like a bat with buckteeth (SEE Babs from Making The Band) for the rest of your lives!


Yep, Granny done put a playa on to her rootbox game.