Sunday Potpourri

Excuse me for not blogging the last couple days. Been a little busy, and I was still somewhat worn out from this episode with Sprint. Bitches.

Anyway, to get everyone in a good mood today, let me first share this hysterical Emmitt Smith video done by Jimmy Kimmel, who absolute clowned football's all-time leading rusher. Clearly, Emmitt knows how to bounce off tackles and find the hole. But what that fool doesn't know is subject-verb agreement, predicates, proper pronouns and basic, sentence structure. Hey, we can't all be perfect.



See, now don't you feel better?

OK, let's get back to what is probably my favorite story of 2008, even though it's just February.

Simple-ass Detroit mayor Kwame Kilpatrick is proving to be not only the worst mayor in Detroit history, the worst mayor in the nation, but also the stupidiest MF of all time. Can that be his official title from now on? Stupidest MF of all time? Somebody put that shit on a plaque and hand it to him.

The latest is that KK signed a confidentiality agreement to try to conceal those embarrassing text messages with Christine Beatty, the former chief of staff he had an affair with -- which ultimately cost the city $9 million in a whistle-blower suit involving three former police officers.

Anyway, this is an interesting development, mostly because a confidentiality agreement of this nature is completely unheard of in a lawsuit involving city government. Kwame doesn't seem to understand he is a public official. Everything he does is on the record. The shit is so basic I'm really questioning who made this fool a lawyer, because he operates like he got his law degree from DeVry.

As a public official, information is put in an entirely different realm. Everything a public official does concerning the city is public record. It can't be concealed. The Freedom Of Information Act was put in place so that we, the public, would be able to keep checks and balances on politicians. If you want to know how much your city government is spending on Wrigley's spearmint, the FOIA allows you to find that out. It was created to protect citizens, not harm us.

But surprise, surprise, when the Detroit city council signed off on paying the lawsuit, they had no idea these text messages existed, or that their mayor had signed a confidentiality agreement that essentially proved he was lying.

Right about now, I need Detroiters to read. I need them to be informed to the point where they don't fall for this obvious, back-handed bullshit. Kwame went on Detroit radio -- read: an R & B station where you can hear that new Luther -- to explain that the reason he had a confidentiality agreement was to "protect all Detroiters" from having private situations exposed. He pointed to the fact that divorces and other personal suits often are accompanied with confidentiality agreements.

That is true, but one problem: FOOL, YOU RUNNING A CITY. This isn't a divorce. The city was being sued because of your creep. You fired a couple cops because they knew you were on some In Between The Sheets shit with your chief of staff. And you were just dumb enough to be sending your screw through text message, using a city Blackberry.

And unfortunately, Detroiters don't know any better and they are buying his grand-standing that this should be private, and between him and his wife. They seem to have forgotten, that the cost of his misdeeds are on you, the citizen. You're the one paying a shitload for bold-ass city services. Look up what property taxes cost in the D. Look at what car insurance rates are. That shit is insane, and now yo' mayor just gave you the biggest F-U ever.

Naturally, when speaking about this matter publicly, KK always seems to forget to mention that HE LIED UNDER OATH TO A JUDGE, AND A COURT. He just glosses over that simple fact. And he, of course, doesn't make the connection between what he did and what it cost his taxpayers. Kwame's message: Hey, I'm just trying to help Ike.

This isn't about protecting Detroiters anymore than it's about an African booty scratcher. This is about a mayor who was busted, who tried to cover it up, and is now trying to manipulate inner-city black voters by playing the race card and making it an issue of us vs. the media.

Well, last time I checked, the Detroit Free Press wasn't the one who told you to use city funds to screw ol' girl. The DFP didn't make you send those text messages where you talking about hitting it into the wee hours. The DFP didn't fire those cops for doing their jobs, or cost the city millions over this bullshit. You did.

What's funny is KK had the nerve to say his boo Beatty should have quit. Um, MF, what's your excuse? Why are you still there, looking like you stole all of Malcolm X's zoot suits from back in the day? Why not do the honorable thing and leave office?

Because that would be too much like right. And we know he's incapable of doing that.

I Hate This Trick, But This Shit Is Funny

This is the only video that could rival Justin Timberlake's "Dick In A Box."

The Adventures of Big Red & Brown Shuga

I'm not much of a do-er when I go out of town.

I'm a creature of habit. I go to the same spots and generally do the same things when I'm in different cities. Eat well. Drink well. See a few friends. Workout a little bit. Sleep.

I'm back in Los Angeles, where I go every other month, but this trip was a little different because my girl, Brown Shuga, decided to join me.

On the foolishness scale, this trip has been about a 9.5. A quick overview, then a longer explanation: Saw David Beckham rolling in his Tahoe blasting rap music, got into a car accident, Brown Shuga bought Jennifer Hudson's skirt from Dreamgirls, witnessed a woman lunge violently at Jimmy Kimmel, rented a drunk bus and passed out in it, ate a double-cheeseburger with chili and some other unidentifiable ish, ate a top-5 all-time meal, drank an $85 bottle of Saki, and realized more than ever that life is all about good friends in high places. And if that's not enough, this is all taking place in the backdrop of the raging California wildfires and an earthquake that also hit there.

Gotta begin with the funniest thing that happened. Crazy Woman Attacks Jimmy Kimmel. Thanks to a hook-up, me and Brown Shuga got into Kimmel's green room and front row seats. Some dude begins warming up the audience by offering free t-shirts if you come to the stage and exhibit a "talent."

I was thinking, is this the time to breakout my rendition of Al Green's "Let's Stay Together?" Nahhhhh....So this blonde, squat, pudgy chick who seems a whole lot off offers to tell a joke. I mean, it wasn't like she was competing against Fantasia or anything. Some guy who looked like a wanna-be Beattle stepped to the stage and claimed he could crack his knuckles non-stop...and he really couldn't.

But Pudgy Blonde doesn't want to come to the stage. She just wants to stay in her seat, which is not the object of this particular exercise. Audience Warmer Dude even tells her if she comes to the stage, she can get a t-shirt or a shot. Not bad, right? She's still protesting. He puts a mic in her face and she's sounds spacey. He even asked her if she was high.

"High on life!" she said.

OK, nutbag. Audience Warmer Dude decides to let her tell her whack-ass joke anyway. The joke? What does orange juice and a blonde have in common?

Concentrate.

Um, yeah.

Even worse, she stumbled through the "joke." Didn't get the punchline quite right. Audience Warmer Dude told her the joke was terrible. Master of the obvious.

On goes the show. We're about halfway through and Kimmel is airing one of his bits with Uncle Frank and Guillermo, Kimmel's parking lot attendant and a character on the show. By the way, I almost wanted to slide Guillermo the number for the EEOC. He's funny, but he's kinda coonin' and setting brown folks back. He's a Mexican Amos. or Andy. Step N' Fetchit. He needs to see Bamboozled.

Anyway, as the bit is airing, Pudgy Blonde jumps up out of her seat, runs toward the stage and lunges at Kimmel! Talk about random. She's yelling, "Jimmy, I want to get out! I want to get out! Something bad is going to happen here!"

Kimmel, the professional that he is, doesn't break a sweat. Although, I'm sure he was praying that old girl's psychotic episode ended before he had to come back live to the show. Security nabbed her before she actually got to him. OIH -- Only in Hollywood. Oh and, Ray Liotta is officially a fossil.

Anyway, the best way to experience L.A. is on great hook-ups. We got a couple hook-ups after Kimmel. My boy got us into Les Deux. Another guy got us to VIP. No paying. No waiting. That's how you got to do it.

I'm such an asshole now that I can't wait in lines at club anymore. Got to get a great time and table for the restaraunt reservation. Life's too short to be spent waiting. Besides, I'm too friggin' impatient.

Many adult beverages were consumed between Kimmel and Les Deux. It free dranks in Kimmel's green room and we took full advantage. Even did it ghetto style and double-fisted chardonnay. At Les Deux, it was Patron, Guiness, and Belvi. We were indeed feeling it when we got to the drunk bus, aka our limo. Yeah, no B.S., we had a limo. But not on purpose. We were supposed to get a plain' ol towncar, but the driver said he HAD to bring the limo instead. Who are we to argue?

We stumbled in and I told the driver we needed food. Any food. I'm sure I didn't sound that coherent, but this is my story, so I tell it how I want. The driver took us to this place called Tommy's, hopped out the car and said he'd take care of us. I think he could tell we were bliz-asted.

He came back with two double chili cheeseburgers, fries and cokes. That shit was like LIFE. I don't think I ate it. I inhaled it. Probably took 30 seconds. Next thing I know, it's a wrap. I hear a knock on the window and the driver saying, "ladies, ladies, we're here." Yep, me and Brown Shuga straight passed out. But hey, that's why we got the drunk bus to begin with, right?

Oh, about that car accident: Guy in BMW hits girl in Jeep, who hits me and Brown Shuga. Minimal damage. No one was hurt. Actually, I was in an accident with two of the coolest people ever. We even posed for pictures in front of dude's banged-up Beemer (Brown Shuga's idea).

Good times.