A groovy place in cyberspace run by author Lolita Files. Come on in. Bring some Pepsi.
Lo Fun Fact #1
"Lolita Files" is my real name. It is not a pen name, as incredible as that may seem. There are plenty of Files family members and people who have known me for years capable of validating this. As for the "Lolita" part, my mother named me after the movie based on Nabokov's book, although she saw or read neither. For as long as she lived, she had no idea there was anything sexual or seedy about being called "Lolita".
Lo Fun Fact #2
I love fried chicken and fabulous shoes (although obviously I can't eat fried chicken nearly as much as I'd like). If you ever want to get on my good side, send Popeye's or Church's (that's right, I said Church's) and a pair of
Christian Louboutins.
Lo Fun Fact #3
Never show up unannounced or without a Pepsi. Better yet, how about not showing up at all?
Lo Fun Fact #4
I hate the telephone. Don't get mad if I don't call you or take a long time to return your calls. I don't call anyone. Don't call me asking why I don't call. Just don't call, okay? (Exception: I will happily take all calls related to business or to share fun/exciting/major news. I'm just not one for jawing on the phone just to be jawing.)
Lo Fun Fact #5
I love the internet!!! I love communicating through the internet!!! You can e-mail me and odds are I'll e-mail you right back (if I'm not in the middle of a major project). Makes up for my hangup about the phone, doesn't it? See, I'm not so bad after all!!!
Lo Fun Fact #6
I can't stand IMing. Please don't IM me. I'm always on my laptop and connected to the internet as I work and when IM's pop into my screen out of nowhere, they break my concentration and often startle the sh*t out of me in the process. So don't do it. You will get the cold shoulder. I don't like giving people the cold shoulder, so please don't put me in that position.
Lo Fun Fact #7
I have fourfive six wonderful, slap-happy dogs and a cat, all of whom I love to pieces. I had a bird (a Roller pigeon that I rescued in LA on New Year's Day in 2004) named B-Bird (what? that's a good name!) who passed away in February 2009, which broke my widdle heart in half. He loved me so, as I did him. If you meet me and ask me about my dogs and cat, we'll be instant friends, and if you ask about B-Bird, I'll probably hug you (unless you smell...wash first). If you meet me and ask me why the f*ck I have fourfive six dogs and a cat, see the above fun fact for how I will respond.
Dunzo, "You're Not As Big As I Thought You'd Be" Style!!!
Friday, March 31, 2006
In yet another case of celebrity love biting it big-time, actor Matt LeBlanc and his wife have called it quits.
Guess that's what happens when you realize you've married someone from a wildly popular tv show who gets his own spinoff and it turns out to be shit.
[...] LeBlanc cited "irreconciliable differences" as the reason for the split and listed Jan. 1, 2006 as the official date of separation.
LeBlanc's NBC sitcom "Joey" was pulled from the schedule later that month.
Divorce papers were filed at Los Angeles Superior Court on Thursday.
The couple have a two-year-old daughter, Marina, and LeBlanc is stepfather to his wife's two older children from an earlier marriage, Tyler, 13, and Jacquelyn, 10.
See, you can't pop out a baby from a guy right away---even if he is a tv star---just because you think you've hit the jackpot. Wait a minute. Ride it out. See if he's on the rise or the fall. Everyone can't hit paydirt the way Jessica Sklar and Kimora Lee did. That's some once-in-a-blue-moon/lonely ass mogul kind of stuff.
Joey sucked mad ass. Worse spinoff show EVER. And now Mrs. LeBlanc's got a two-year old from Matt (they've been married three years), plus them other kids. Sure she'll get child support and alimony, but it won't be anywhere close to the Seinfeldian proportions Ms. SklarJessica will get once Jerry divorces her azz. And he will...remember, you heard it here on The Lo Zone. Any woman who will divorce her brand new husband of three weeks in order to immediately marry a rich tv star is bound to be trouble at some point down the line. Don't believe me? Check out her first wedding announcement in the New York Times. A few months later, she was divorced and married to Jerry. Priceless.
She spat babies out right away too, as did Kimora, but they were smart enough to know their husbands were already set in the money department. There was no going down for them.
It's refreshing to know some guys aren't afraid of a gold digger when they meet one.
Anyway, Happy Trails, Mrs. LeBlanc!!! Next time, pick a bonafide mogul, not one whose career is a shot in the dark. You're gonna need a real baller now that you've got all those kids. You can't afford to keep up the hits and misses. All you get is babies out of it. Go for the loot!!! (I know, I know, I'm being salty today. Oh well...it's all in fun!!)
Rap mogul Russell Simmons and his wife Kimora Lee Simmons are splitting, a rep for Kimora confirms to PEOPLE. An announcement is expected later today.
A spokesperson for Russell had no comment.
Russell, 48, and Kimora, 30, married in 1998 and have two daughters: Ming Lee Simmons, 6, and Aoki Lee Simmons, 3. Both girls model for Baby Phat Clothing, Kimora's offshoot of her husband's Phat Farm clothing line.
Love this part:
The pair met in November 1992 during New York City's Fashion Week. She was 17 and about to finish high school; he was 35 and a self-admitted ladies man.
"I was skeptical," model Tyra Banks told PEOPLE in 2002 of her initial reaction to the relationship. But, she said: "She turned the man about town into a loving husband and papa."
Did she? Really? I dunno. Looks to me like all her "I'M RICH, BITCH" behavior might have sent him right back to the streets.
I personally thought I heard the death knell loud and clear after reading last year's article in Vanity Fair. You know, the one where Kimora said such choice things as:
"I will beat a bitch's ass!" Kimora says of any woman who dares flirt with her husband, the famous Russell, a hip-hop icon for 25 years.
[...]
And yet that doesn't keep "the bitches," as Kimora calls them, from trying to make moves.
"Women come up to him all the time," she complains. "Women are unruly and just ridiculous. Like knowing full well that you are married and you have a life and you have a family, and they want to flirt and rub their booty in your face.… I just don't think shit about men in general," she says.
Yeah. Uh-huh.
That Vanity Fair piece was chockful of blingariffic goodness, to wit:
"The bitches" have been a constant theme in Russell and Kimora's 12-year relationship. They're how Russell and Kimora got engaged, which Kimora tells me about on St. Barth's, on the beach, where she's lying naked except for a pair of Armani sunglasses and a Gucci bikini bottom. "Let me take off my glasses," she says, removing her large frames. "I want you to see my eyes. I will beat a bitch's ass!"
And only minutes before their wedding, which took place on St. Barth's in 1998, Kimora says, one of these women stole her bridal shoes, hiding them in some grass, she thinks. "Stole my Manolos.… Because they wanted Russell. And they couldn't take it. Have him if you want him!" she jokes.
Well, obviously someone took her up on that, because Russell already has a new girl, the probably considerably-saner, less bank-account-vaporizing beauty, Denise Vasi:
But, back to that "it's just a matter of time after this nonsense" Vanity Fair article. Here's some more clever bits:
"Oooooh," she says, running long fingers over her new Louis Vuitton bag. Kimora gets very intense when handling or discussing handbags or diamonds. Or shoes.
"Look." She opens a heavy brown shoe box to show me the shiny brown stilettos she's also buying tonight. "I thought about buying them, but then I didn't, and they kept them for me," she says quickly, reverently stroking a shoe as a smiling French saleswoman looks on. Kimora is said to have the largest collection of Louis Vuitton in the world.
Lovely, no? Keep reading...
"I stay out of the fur conversation," says Kimora. "I wear fur and if somebody throws shit on me I'm gonna whup your ass! I wish somebody would throw shit on me."
Delish. But wait, there's more!!! (Sixteen pages worth, actually, or something like that).
The two men strolling behind us are often with Kimora: BJ Coleman, the publicist for Baby Phat, who's carrying Kimora's four-foot-long Louis Vuitton shopping bag, and Jack McCue, her lawyer and manager, who was carrying her daughter Ming Lee.
Wonder if that's how those two men saw themselves ending up when they imagined their futures. Dude went to law school to end up toting babies? Meh. Okay, just a little bit more (really...it totally makes the divorce make so much sense):
For a while after they were married, in 1998, she tried to "do the trophy-wife thing," she says. But she couldn't stand it. And then, in 1999, Russell started Baby Phat and made Kimora its creative director.
Big mistake.
At one point, some shopping takes place. Observe, if you will...
"Oooooh." Kimora's running her hands over a shiny Birkin carry-on bag.
"I'll buy it," says Brett Ratner, the burly movie director, who's also come in the store. (He's a longtime friend of Russell's, and staying at Russell and Kimora's villa here in St. Barth's.) "How much?" he asks.
"If you have to ask, get out of the store!" says Kimora, waving him away.
"Honey," says Russell, sounding like he's going to object.
"Hon-neeeee," says Kimora, lightly mocking his tone.
"I have a great idea for a store," Russell says, loud. "It's called Kimora's Closet. It's for charity. It's full of all the things Kimora has that she doesn't need and all the money goes to charity … "
Kimora doesn't say anything.
"Come on, how much?" says Ratner.
"Look it up in the catalogue!" Kimora says.
The bag costs $150,000.
Russell shakes his head.
"One day," he tells me, "Kimora's going to wake up and go, 'Ohhhh.'"
I'm not sure what he means. "You mean, like, 'Oh, I don't need all this stuff'?"
Russell shrugs.
"I'm going back to the house," he tells his wife.
Sounds like he was already mentally leaving then, if not gone. Okay, here's the last part I'm going to put, then you'll have to read the rest on your own, if you haven't already. I was done for when I saw this:
"I refuse to talk about Russell," Kimora says. "Everyone knows Russell." (Lo's note: that's because she'd much rather talk about herself.)
"Russell is a very, very nice guy," she says finally. "He is growing into himself spiritually, like with this whole yoga thing. He looks the best that he's ever looked. I mean, there are pictures of Russell I'll show you from 20 years ago and he looks like shit, in terms of just, like, bad skin, pimples, fat gut sagging.
Okayyyyyyy????!!! Who the hell says that about their man, let alone in print?????!!! She would have been curbside the day that article came out. Curbside. Furs, bags, jewels, baby-toting lawyers and all!!
*Sigh* Black love...sometimes you just gotta chew your own leg off to get out of the trap.
Better a lost limb than a lost life, is what I say.
Good luck, Kimora!!! Mission accomplished, girl!!! You're rich now, and wasn't that always the original plan?
Hop on that My Little Pony and ride the fuck out while the gettin's good!!!
(I'm a big fan of Russell's, so I'm rooting for the return of his happiness and peace of mind. That Vanity Fair article really pissed me off last year. After I read it, it was obvious he deserved so much better.)
I guess our resident revolutionary, Lance, was not going to let his irritation with the sistahs-dating-white men celluloid celebration, Something New...
...go down without a fight. It seems he's discovered the antidote: Tired Black Man.
For so many reasons. He's my hero, my champion, my friend, my brother, my Bubby, my twin, my writer-in-arms---too many things to mention, none of which could ever sum up how much I adore him.
And lest some of you have your minds on the physical, I'm not even talking about that. Eric is one of the most wonderful people I know. He's ridiculously supportive and encouraging. I love him beyond the scope of normal words and I'm proud of him on every level, so I just wanted to scream that out into cyberspace, the blogosphere, and the ether in general. I love him from the top of his locks to the tip of his Dickey toes. He's my nukka. He's my Bubby.
And you're gonna see just how much The Man he is when you get your hands on his new book, Chasing Destiny.
It's a major home run. The story is way powerful, entertaining, and intense. I had the pleasure of reading it early and, trust me, it's THE SHIZZZZZZZZ, fa sho'. You have to get it. It's going to blow you away. Seriously.
Mwwwwwwwwwah, Bubs!!!! Knock 'em dead out there. Again. You got this "bestseller" thing down to a science.
...put together a truly wonderful event. Diedre Ware and Sally Hernandez had this incredible spread of food: A yumtastic paella (!!!), chicken patties (a la West Indian style meat patties), wine, tea, and the most exquisite cupcakes (a variety that included chocolate with chocolate frosting, yellow with a fluffy whipped cream frosting, and RED VELVET cupcakes with cream cheese frosting). I was in HEAVEN. Sally Hernandez made the food. This woman is one of the most extraordinary cooks I've ever encountered. Her creations aren't just delicious, they're downright GORGEOUS. I'm talking multi-page spread in Gourmet magazine beautiful.
I was having such a great time with everyone who came and the fun discussion we had that I forgot to take pictures. Just take my word when I say it was one of the best times EVER. I made some new friends too. The Ya-Ya's gave me a lovely gift box with sumptuous body cream, bath oil, and a deliciously fragrant candle, and Sally sent me home with a big plate of food and four of those gigantic, picture-perfect outstanding cupcakes. I was so afraid that they wouldn't survive the drive home (lately I've been eating, as my father used to say, like a snaggletoothed mule...I've gained ten pounds since I started book tour, and I do not like to carry extra weight---I love fashion and looking fly too much---so these pounds HAVE. TO. GO).
Fortunately for me, there was a very nice gentleman at my signing (with the most make-you-melt smooth voice you've ever heard), actor Wren T. Brown...
...along with his lovely mother, Rosalind. Turns out Wren is an old friend of my dear friend and brother, the very talented actor Michael DeLorenzo...
...(ain't he yummy?).
The two of them go way, way back. So I called up Michael while I was with Wren at the bookstore. They played catch-up for quick bit and exchanged numbers, and Michael asked me to swing by afterwards to hang out for a bit.
I did. And I gave him a big ol' chocolate muffin (get your minds out of the gutter) when I got there. He devoured it, thus saving me from an additional 500 or 600-odd calories that I'd be wearing right now but for him. I ate half a red velvet cupcake on the drive to his house, and I ate the rest of it today. Two more cupcakes to go. Somebody needs to save me from myself!!
Ya-Ya's, I LUH Y'ALL!!! You're THE BEST!!! Thanks for making me feel like royalty. You ladies are truly, truly sent from above.
"We ran into her at a William Morris Agency party and she said she liked our song `Stay Fly' and asked could we work with her," said Jordan "Juicy J" Houston, a member of the Memphis hip-hop group.
That's how it begins, Juicy J., that's how it begins.
He went on to say...
"We let her listen to a dance track and she really liked it and plans to record it tonight," Houston told The Commercial Appeal newspaper by phone Tuesday.
He said that since the group won the Oscar for best original song for "It's Hard out Here for a Pimp" from the film "Hustle & Flow," they have been swamped with all sort of requests.
You know, I shouldn't call Three 6 Mafia devils. After all, she's the one who's the demon spawn, and perhaps she somehow managed to lure them in. Her peeper is like the portal to hell.
Maybe Three 6 Mafia is just trying to legitimize their newfound Oscar fame, and have suddenly realized that nothing says "I've arrived" in Hollywood like nailing Paris Hilton (what? you didn't know "make a record" was code for "f*ck Paris Hilton"? C'mon now people...let's be real). Doing her is a rite of passage, like eating a hot dog from Pink's, driving west on Sunset to the PCH, and blowing rails off Tara Reid's misshapen titties. (Trust, you'll be reading about the fellas doing that real soon.)
Missed writing about this yesterday. I had a lot going on. Ms. Whitney is apparently up to her eyeballs in eight balls (I'm so clever!), crackpipes, and drugs, drugs, drugs, and now pictures have started to leak out.
...the woman who co-starred with Kevin Costner in the 1992 hit movie The Bodyguard smokes crack, uses sex toys to satisfy herself and ignores personal hygiene.
When high on drugs, she imagines she sees demons and is being beaten by them.
If you're in the L.A. area and have the time, you should come through my booksigning. I'll be reading from and discussing my new novel, Sex.Lies.Murder.Fame.
I'll be at:
Eso Won Books 7pm-8:30pm 3655 S. La Brea Los Angeles, CA 90016 Phone: (323) 294-0324
They'll even have hors d'oeuvres, so you can munch while you watch me run my mouth. The event is being put together by Diedre Ware and Sally Hernandez, two of the loveliest human beings you ever want to meet. They are a part of that wonderful group of women whose book club I met with earlier this month.
Come through if you get the chance. We're going to make it a fun time for all!!
You can also hear me online tomorrow, Thursday at 7pm EST (4pm PST) on the show Cross Talk.
[click image to enlarge]
I'll be interviewed by my good friend, the absurdly prolific author (for real, she's written, like, a kabillion books) ---Donna Hill. She's always a blast, so I'm sure the interview will be worth tuning in. Click here for the show: Cross Talk
So while I was hanging in NYC with Larry Lowe and Marvin Scott, Larry mentions that he hadn't quite been able to do a rendering of himself South Park-style. So, being the kinda friend that I am, I figured I'd take a stab at it on his behalf.
Larry, behold thyself:
He's quite sharp, isn't he? The quintessential businessman, he is. And notice what he's saying is cracking him up. He's probably in the middle of recounting an incredibly entertaining tale. And his thumbs? Well, they're busy shifting paradigms and all. Because that's what cats like him and Marvin do. They keep you engaged even as they are in the process of changing the world. Plus Larry's a fellow Libran, so you know he's got this great, totally animated personality!!
Speaking of Marvin...now that I've done Larry, unless you stop me, I'm going to do you.
Last week I was hanging with some friends for several days, working on some stuff. At one point, we had a conversation about eating meat vs. being a vegetarian, and the conversation shifted to wild game (rabbit, deer, turtle, frog legs, etc.). My father used to cook a lot of that stuff when I was a kid, and as a result, I have a palate that favors game (hell, meat in general). I'm an incorrigible carnivore. Turns out a couple of other people in the room were as well. All of us were pretty unapologetic about it. In L.A.---The Land That Food Forgot---finding another meat-eater is like being reunited with a long-lost family member. You cling. You coo. You barbecue.
Well, I happen to love to cook, and I'm also pretty darn good at it. It comes from possessing a true admiration for cooking as a form of creative expression. And I can make anything. Seriously. So I decided that, since we were gathering again the following day, I'd (literally) pull a rabbit out of my deep freezer and fry it up, down-home style, along with some homemade buttermilk biscuits, onion gravy, and a nice long-grain rice (I know I should have made a vegetable, but it was a last minute decision to make any of it). I surprised everyone when I arrived with the food. Folks immediately went for plates and began diving into it.
...except for one person, a guy who hemmed and hawed about having never had rabbit before (although he did go a bit too far and freaked all of us out by confessing he had eaten RAT once. What the?????). Anyway, so he fixes himself a little plate. Puts a piece of rabbit on it, spoons on a bit of gravy, SPRINKLES RICE ON TOP OF IT (?????) like the rice was coconut or something, and grabbed a biscuit. This is what his plate looked like:
[click to enlarge]
My biscuits are very delicate and tender, and he kind of manhandled it, that's why it looks all crumbly on his plate.
So he heats the food in the microwave, approaches it with semi-disdain, takes a bite, and immediately proceeds to wolf through everything. Gnawed that rabbit down to dried bone, he did. Ate the biscuit out the frame (then, proceeded to have SEVEN MORE BISCUITS---I only made twelve; a small skirmish broke out over his sucking down of the biscuits; I actually had to make him another batch and bring them the next day, he went so nuts over them).
I say all this to say, Hey you...the next time I bring some food, don't question me, okay? I'm a professional. I know what I'm doing. You just sit your iz-azz down at the table and do what?
That's what Dr. House told this startled patient he had on the episode last night.
Crotch rot.
Look at how the man's looking at him.
Crotch rot.
How insane is that? Nothing clinical about the term at all. It's like having your gynecologist use the "p" word while he's examining you. What kind of shizz is...
First off, I want to express that I am by no means knocking my last publisher with this post. I had a great experience with them. They were all very nice people whom I genuinely liked, and I made good friends over there. I published three books with them---Blind Ambitions, Child of God, and Tastes Like Chicken, which is the book I'm about to discuss.
This was just one of those things that falls under, um, artistic viewpoint, I suppose. It also has to do with the nature of the business as well, particularly in regard to books by authors of color and how they are packaged. This could have happened at any publishing house (and probably does every day).
When Tastes Like Chicken, my fifth novel, was coming down the pike, something very interesting happened when we got to the stage where a cover was being selected.
As many of you know, Chicken was a follow-up to my first two books, Scenes From A Sistah and Getting To The Good Part, both of which feature the characters Misty Fine and Reesy Snowden, both of whom have quite a loyal fan base. Reesy is the saltier, more adventurous of the two characters, having dabbled in pole-hunchinglap-ridingskrippin' exotic dancing at one point, despite the fact that she is a classically-trained dancer, possesses a post-graduate degree in Business, and has parents who are social, financial, and professional pillars of the South Florida community. She's a bit out there, although I don't think she ever really gets pornographic, per se. Just edgy. Real, real edgy.
Well, I think that used-to-be-a-skripperexotic dancer thing threw the publisher, because that seemed to be what was primarily on their minds when I was presented with their first recommendation for a cover. I was so excited when I was told they'd come up with something they all loved and just knew I would flip over. When the picture was e-mailed to me, I could barely wait for it to download. Imagine my shawe (yeah, that's a blend of shock and awe), when the following filled my computer screen:
[click image to enlarge the black-assed goodness; click once more to really freak out]
Took me a solid ten minutes to reinflate my lungs. They just collapsed. For real.
So these are the infamous white shorts. Whenever I forget how fortunate I am to have the absolutely stunning cover I have right now...
...(uh, and I NEVER forget)...
...I just look at this...
...and think about how things MIGHT HAVE BEEN.
There but by the grace of God goes my cover.
Of course, it could have been worse. She could have had camel toe. Or bumps on her booty. (She is cutting mad cheese, though. What's up with that?)
Check out this cartoon rendering of one of my bestest friends, bestselling author/Christian fiction queen, Victoria Christopher Murray.
Those who know her know this is TOTALLY her---the fur (that would be mink), the bag (a Birkin, natch), the ponytail, and underneath that coat is definitely, definitely something from St. John (trust me).
But that halo...that's the most hilarious part of all. Yes, she's one of the best Christian fiction writers around (she oughta be...she started the genre within African-American literature), but a halo, Vickie?
Heyyyyyyy...I'm not a snake!!! It's the only graphic I could find as I taxi on the plane at JFK.
Needless to say, my blogging will be at a minimum today since I'm travelling, but I'll write more later once I'm on terra firma (which will be hours from now, cross-country travelling and all).
Still, yesterday was a smash, and hanging with Marvin Scott and Larry Lowe, who had me laughing hysterically for most of the night (and, who, once again, had ALL THE MONEY...thanx fellas!!!), was the perfect capper.
Can't wait to see this when it comes out. What started out as a flick with a ridiculous title is turning into a movie with such crazy buzz, it might turn out to be late summer's super-huge hit. (I also love that the acronym for the movie is S.O.A.P. I know that doesn't mean anything, it's just that everything about this damn movie is goofy-cool, even it's abbreviation. And it's got Samuel L. Jackson, arguably the baddest cat to ever grace celluloid, so you just know he's gonna rock this out!!!)
This guy's practically family to me, so I'm extra thrilled about all the wonderful things he's got going on. Who am I talking about? Why, none other than...
Yup. He of the looming presence, unlimited charisma, multi-talents, and a super-sexiness that's had the ladies swooning for more than a decade, is on the scene with two major happenings.
...which debuts on Tuesday, March 28th at 10pm E/P.
Second, Malik and his very cool sister, Akoshia Yoba---who is quite a gifted writer, as is their mother, Mahmoudah Young; both women are also like family to me---have written a book together called...
Please Return My Phone Call: Preventing The Demise Of Personal And Professional Relationships
[click image to enlarge]
The book is a valuable tool on both professional and personal levels. (I could certainly learn a thing or ten from it---I've been so swamped of late, I haven't been able to play catch up on the volumes of calls and e-mails I've got piling up. Please bear with me, those of you to whom this might apply.) Malik has been conducting seminars and lecturing around the country on these important fundamental principles and strategies for building and maintaining thriving human relationships.
This is something we can all use, probably in more ways than one. I'll be mentioning the book more as it becomes available at www.pleasereturnmyphonecall.com. Be sure to put this one on your radar as a must-have. Do it for yourself. Do it for someone(s) who really needs to get the message.
Let's see if we can help spread the word about the book and maybe unreturned calls will soon become a thing of the past!!
I love how folks got in on the fun of this. Here's loyal Lo Zoner Michelle---a self-described mother of two who likes to keep it "cool like that," rocking shades and a Coach bag...
And here's one of the two infamous Anonymous (Anonymi?), well-known to those who read and post frequently in the "comments" sections of The Lo Zone. She's fly, ain't she, with her cute little crown and those adorable bangs...
And, of course, we all know who this is. His voice rings out in The Lo Zone like a cough in a canyon (think about it). The man with the plan, always ready for a righteous revolution, the guy who's gonna single-handedly put Hollywood in its place when it comes to how it treats people of color, our very own...LANCE!!!
Damn!! It looks just like him!!
If you want to take a stab at creating a version of yourself as a South Park character to be displayed on The Lo Zone (or for whatever the hell else you might possibly use it for), click here.
Show us the cartoon in you. Come on...you know it's there.
(If you have your browser set to block popups, you will either have to disable that feature or enter WBLS' url as an address from which you'll accept popup windows.)
If you listen online, Wendy Williams' radio show on WBLS starts at 2pm EST (1pm CST/11am PST) and goes until 7pm EST (6pm CST/4pm PST). Again, my interview should be around 4pm EST (3pm CST/1pm PST).
It's me again. LoZone. Delivering yet another message for Lo.
Don't worry, she'll have a few posts later today. She's been pulling some all-nighters and has been under deep cover, but will be coming up momentarily for air.
Keep checking back. We'll do our best to make it worth your while!!!
Hi guys!! It's me, LoZone!! Lo said you guys might be seeing me from time to time.
Well, this is one of those times.
She's got a totally crazy schedule today, so she's not going to be doing any posts, and she got ME to tell you (what a coward, huh?). But she'll be back with more juicy stuff on Friday...plus, she's got some cartoon versions some of you sent in of yourselves after creating your own South Park characters like me.
In the meantime, talk a walk through The Lo Zone. Have some revisited laughs. You know you wanna. Mwaaaaaaaaaah!!
And it's mad funky, too. Feels like the hot stuff he used to rock back in the day. Don't think I'm not gonna wear that puppy into the ground.
So guess what? That makes me a triple threat, as my dear, dear friend, the super duper, fan-friggin'-tasticEric Jerome Dickey...
...pointed out. (Both he and another one of my most excellent, longtime friends, Troy R. Mathis, each alerted me to the song yesterday). Eric made me realize that I've got a book named after me, a movie, and now a song!!!
Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta.
I said, hot damn!!! (Don't think I haven't exploited the hell out of that phrase in my lifetime. What? Wouldn't you?)
lo has a gun and will use it prince will sang about her and older men will shoot other older men have a one-sided gunfight for her honor
I got a po-em!! I got a po-em!!
(Doing the Eddie Murphy "I got some ice cream and you ain't got none" dance.)
Sorry, people. I'm just feeling myself a little bit today. I got a song named after me!!! Come on...let me revel in my delusional moment for just a few minutes.
Check out this hot, brand-spankin' new mixtape (...yeah, I'm that girl...I'm into mixtapes, aiight? and? so?).
It's chockablock full of stuff from Kanye and the folks on his G.O.O.D. Music label (like John Legend and Common). Here's a breakdown of the songs:
1. G.O.O.D. Music Takeover Intro 2. The Movement - Common 3. Hollywood - Sa-Ra 4. Cut That Out - Consequence 5. Do What We Do - Consequence 6. Corners (Back II Basics Remix) - Common and Kanye 7. They Say (Remix) - John Legend, Common and Consequence 8. She Don’t Have To Know - John Legend 9. Do The Math Freestyle - Consequence 10. (Getting Out My) Dreams Freestyle - GLC 11. Corners - Common and Kanye 12. Laid Back - Mr. Bentley 13. Get Em High (J. Period Remix) - Kanye 14. Get Em High (J. Period Remix) - Common 15. Testify - Common 16. Hold On (Remix) - Kanye West and Consequence 17. Gone - Kanye and Consequence 18. The Good, The Bad, The Ugly - Consequence and Kanye 19. Sunshine / 6th Sense (J. Period Remix) - Common 20. Beats By Kanye-O Interlude - J. Period 21. Wack Niggaz - Common, Kanye and Consequence 22. Jesus Walks (Remix) - Common 23. My Way Home - Common 24. My Way Home - Consequence 25. Drive Slow - Kanye and GLC (feat. Paul Wall) 26. Chi State of Mind - GLC 27. Clap Yo Hands - GLC (feat. Three 6 Mafia) 28. Stay Fly (From the Chi) Freestyle - GLC 29. Kryptonite Freestyle - GLC 30. Complex Magazine Interlude (Prod. Sa-Ra) 31. Star Warz - Sa-Ra 32. Liftoff Interlude 33. Spaceship - Kanye, GLC and Consequence 34. Sky High (Cloud 9 Remix) - John Legend (feat. Lauryn Hill)
This definitely looks like one to grab. I'd take it for Sky High (Cloud 9 Remix), Corners (both versions), and Spaceship alone. (I never get tired of Spaceship, no matter how much time passes. That song's got dat fiyah, fa real.) Sure, I've got the original versions of most of this stuff on cd, but there's something about a good mixtape. Noamsayin'?
This is what I figure I'd look like as a South Park character:
I made her myself and I've dubbed her LoZone. We may see her appear from time to time. Not too far off the mark of the original, no?
Yeah, yeah. See how hard I work to keep you guys amused? Go on, make your own characters, just like I did, right here. And if you're bad enough, share the images. E-mail me what you come up with and I'll post them here on The Lo Zone.
Got a few minutes? (Around twenty or so?) This is that episode of South Park that Tom Cruise supposedly got pulled off the air. If you've never seen this thing, it's absolutely classic. I saw it when it originally aired, and I think it's the best South Park ever (and that's saying a lot). The only other episode that comes close, in my opinion, is the one where Paris Hilton (complete with that lazy eye of hers)...
The episode was called Stupid Spoiled Whore Video Playset, and it was funny as all get-out. But this one tops it. So, if you got the time and the notion, and aren't afraid of Tom Cruise, well, here you go.
I was recently turned on to an incredibly-talented and prolific modern impressionist artist by the name of Renaldo Davidson. This British-born, New York-based brother's work is simply astounding, and I just had to shout him out here and let you guys in on the art this cat is creating. Renaldo's work, which has been described as "free-ranging, refreshing, and energetically stylized," has been reviewed by the New York Times, Time Out New York, and other major New York periodicals. And the most startling detail of all? He's self-taught!!!
Renaldo with his Richard Pryor portraits
Here are some examples of his amazing work. Click each image to enlarge:
Richard Pryor
Billie Holiday
Pam Grier
Armless Father and Child in Sierra Leone (the piece is officially called "Daddy")
Ali
Gordon Parks
His art also adorns the cover of poet/activist Ras Baraka's new book...
This gorgeous cover, comprised of various pieces of Renaldo's works, was designed by the artist himself and the multi-talented, waaaay creative (y'all don't even understand, seriously)Larry Lowe.
If you are interested in any of these uniquely beautiful large scale portraits, or would like to see more of Renaldo's collection of some 600 drawings, you can contact him via e-mail at:
Well, it seems Mr. Barlow reads The Lo Zone, and he happened to note my St. Patrick's Day post on Friday. You know, the one where I had the graphic of myself as a leprechaun...
...and revealed my not-so-purely African lineage. Not one to miss a major (or minor) revelation when it's right in front of him, the clever Mr. Barlowwrote a blog post about it...
[click image to go to his website; then click "open blog" and scroll down]
...expressing his shock at how a white girl such as myself could be passing as a black chick and writing for a well respected imprint known for its high profile African American literature.
Okay, so I admit it: I'm not pure. On any level. (And you're crazy if you ever thought I was to begin with.)
Ancestors Watchin': Let's Start A Music Video Revolution!!!
Tired of videos with chicks shaking ass after ass after ass across your screen? (Okay, strike that. Maybe some of you aren't.)
Tired of videos talking about the same things over and over again? Bling. Booty. Bounce.
Bling! Booty!! Bounce!!!
While there is a place for that kind of thing, wouldn't it be the bomb if such a powerful medium actually was used to SAY SOMETHING once in awhile? To hear a bangin’ beat and dope lyrics that make you nod your head in more ways than one, the way your favorite hip hop was back in the day?
The website requires Flash to view the video. You probably already have it installed on your computer; however, if you need it, you can download it here for free.
We're trying to get all the major music channels to play this video. It's the antidote to all that ass. It has a message, not just about black ancestors watching, but ALL THE ANCESTORS---from Harriet to Frida to Gandhi to Martin---those who came before us, blazed trails of justice, fought against injustice, broke barriers in all their endeavors, and died for the sake of freedom, art, and expression so we could have those things as our birthrights as human beings. The world needs messages in the music like this.
When you visit the website, there's a link you can click on the same page that will help encourage MTV, BET, and VH1 to play this important video. Yes, I know that Warrington's brother Reginald Hudlin is the President of BET, so it might be assumed they'll automatically play the video. However, we take nothing for granted. We assume no givens. The more these music channels hear that YOU want to see more images like this, the quicker they'll get the message.
Get involved, people. Let's get that revolution going we were talking about not so long ago in one of the comments section of this blog. This video is a flip side to all that pimp-talk in the past few weeks that had so many of you up in arms. Let's make a difference. We can. All it takes is the click of a mouse. Pass the link to this blog post to your friends, family, loved ones, and colleagues. You can do so by clicking the little icon that looks like an envelope...
...at the end of this particular post. The icon to forward this as an e-mail is right beneath the words "link to this post."
It's time to start a movement, y'all. The kind that will do our ancestors proud...
(Big ups to my new peeps, Larry Lowe and Marvin Scott, who also acted as Producers on the video. These are some fierce brothers, for real, as I mentioned in a prior post. We've been collaborating on some things for the past few weeks, and I continue to be in slackjawed awe of the range of their creativity, business acumen, and influence. Thanks, Larry, for crafting some of the words used in this blog post.)
Jamie Foxx Parties Just As Much As You Think He Does.
Yesterday's Styles section of the New York Times featured an article on superstar Jamie Foxx and all the fun, fantabulous things that have been happening for him. During the course of this very good article, where we hear about career advice he's received, life lessons, and also see him rocking some pretty nice clothes, we learn that (surprise!!!) Jamie also loves to get his party on.
Per the article, Foxx, talking about the much-gossiped about filming of the movie Miami Vice...
...said the following:
"...most of the rumors are true: Colin is a great guy, and we were out a lot. But that's what you're supposed to do when you're young and single and a movie star. That's part of the territory. When you have the ability to go out with beautiful women, why shouldn't you go?"
A California drug operation manufactured marijuana-laced candy and soft drinks that were packaged to resemble popular products like Jolly Ranchers, Milky Way, and Pop Tarts. The pot ring, busted yesterday by Drug Enforcement Administration agents, was headquartered in Oakland and allegedly headed by Kenneth Affolter, 39, who was one of 12 alleged dealers nabbed.
DEA raids at indoor pot-growing facilities turned up the marijuana-infused products, which carried labels such as Toka-Cola, Pot Tarts, Puff-A-Mint Pattie, Stoney Ranchers, Munchy Way, and Buddahfinger. A DEA spokesperson told TSG that the pot was baked into chocolate bars and hard candies and that the soda contained concentrated hash oil. A label on the ring's Nestle Crunch knockoff describes the item's ingredients as "milk chocolate with crisped rice dipped in hash oil rich chocolate."
I'm sorry, I gotta give respect due where respect is due.
That shizz is BRILL-YANT. Okay?
I'm no proponent of drugs and letting stuff like this get loose to kids. I'm no pothead, either. But I am one of those people who thinks marijuana should be legal. There's no logic to alcohol and cigarettes being within the law and maryjane being outside of it. Makes no sense. Might even minimize some of the crime on the streets if it's no longer an illegal substance to be trafficked and dimebagged. And at least folks can possibly be healed by dro. I've never seen cigarettes or Grey Goosedestroy cancer cells or aid in the treatment of glaucoma. Put an age limit on the stuff and stock the shelves with it already. And roll me a fatty while you're at it. (Just kidding, Mom.)
But I digress.
Check out some of this stuff. This is why so many former drug dealers and street hustlers thrive in the corporate world. This is the work of someone(s) with a true head for business.
While you bullshittin', them Stoney Ranchers look mad delicious.
Now before you laugh at that pic of me as a leprechaun, understand that my Irish connection is legitimate. One of my maternal great-grandmothers (my mom's father's mother) was not black. Yeah, yeah, I know black folks are always talking about "I'm half-this, I'm part-that, whatever" in order to be perceived as being of 'upgraded' stock. That's not my point here. The bottom line is, the woman was white and she was stone-cold Irish. I'm talking a red-haired, green-eyed, shillelagh-swinging, Shamrock-plucking lass. Last name Hogan. Which might explain why a potato doesn't stand a chance in my presence.
So, from deep inside my Irish-derivative blood, I wish you a Happy St. Patrick's!!!
Today's a short one for me. I've got some intense writing to do, so I'm going deep cover. In the meantime, check out this excellent photo from last night's very cool signing at the Barnes & Noble in Glendale. We had the bestest time.
Kevin and his lovely wife (she's not in the pic), the multi-talented Michael DeLorenzo, playwright/producer/director extraordinaire David E. Talbert, Diondre, my cousin Sonya, book club member Olivia, theater exec/Quickdraw McCard Thea, film producer (go 'head, now!) Ray K. Morris, new author Lisa Beth Kovetz...aw heck, everyone who came and showed me love. We had wonderful conversation and laughter and good times, good times.
Mucho thanks to Kirsten, the community relations rep at the store, for taking such excellent care of me.
Have a great weekend, guys!!
(And oh yeah...I know I haven't put up those D.C. and Atlanta pics yet. There's quite a few and there were all the uploading problems this week with Blogger.com that kept me from doing so, but you'll get them next week, for real.)
We just loooooooooooooooooooveAOL Black Voices, because AOL Black Voices shows us so much love!!! They've got us on the main page again as one of the four featured "What's Hot" items.
[click image to go to AOL Black Voices]
You can submit questions for my upcoming podcast HERE.
This seven-year old poetic prodigy, Autum Ashante...
...set off a storm of controversy at a school in New York's Westchester county when she recited the following poem:
White Nationalism Put U In Bondage
White nationalism is what put you in bondage Pirate and vampires like Columbus, Morgan, and Darwin Drank the blood of the sheep, trampled all over them with Steel, tricks and deceit. Nothing has changed take a look in our streets The mis-education of she and Hegro – leaves you on your knee2grow Black lands taken from your hands, by vampires with no remorse They took the gold, the wisdom and all of the storytellers They took the black women, with the black man weak Made to watch as they changed the paradigm Of our village They killed the blind, they killed the lazy, they went So far as to kill the unborn baby Yeah White nationalism is what put you in bondage Pirates and vampires like Columbus, Morgan, and Darwin They drank the blood of the sheep, trampled all over them with Steel laden feet, throw in the tricks alcohol and deceit. Nothing has changed take a look at our streets.
The resulting uproar, per yesterday's New York Post (yeah, I'm a day late on this), was the school sending out 3000 recorded messages to parents in attendance, apologizing for the nature of Ms. Ashante's intense verse.
Judith Johnson, the Peekskill superintendent, said the performance upset students and she stood by the apology.
"We had kids who were really upset," Johnson said. "We said [to parents], 'If your child was upset, we apologize for that.' There is nothing wrong with that."
New York City Councilman Charles Barron, a Brooklyn Democrat and former Black Panther, honored Autum at City Hall and defended her right to address only children of color.
Autum recited her poem at Barron's request, evoking praises of "Hallelujah!" from black leaders and activists who gathered for the press conference.
Difference of opinion? Racism? Speaking truth to power?
...(that's a damn shame---he should have sat the fuck down a long time ago). So odds are, he's still going to keel over while sticking a mike in someone's face.
Alpha males. Sometimes they need to learn how to just. let. go.
This is one of the posts that should have gone up yesterday, but Blogger was tripping, and they still are (so I, not one to be held back or defeated, figured out a way to import my pictures in without using their unreliable, bitch-ass system). Anyway, here's the delayed post.
Yet another post I didn't get to put up yesterday. This one's been the laughingstock of the 'net for the past few days. I guess this is what happens when you stare at something wrong for too long.
It starts to look right.
Villians. Yeah. They're evil people, right? Or are they townies? I get so confused.
Can't you just picture him standing there in drag in a smoky nightclub, shyly clutching the mike as a hand holds a dollar out from beyond the shadows and a deep voice coolly asks, "You want my dick arm to fall off?"
Meet Your New Sue Ellen. Possibly. If She Takes It. (As If She Wouldn't.)
And, of course, you'll barely notice the very LatinaJLo playing someone named Sue Ellen, will you? What if she played someone named Becky? Amber? Keisha? Aquanette? What about Shaquanna Jackson? Would that catch your attention? Would it feel kind of glaring? Probably not, huh? No? Ya think?
J.Lo, who previously worked with Luketic on Monster-in-Law, would play Sue Ellen Ewing, the alcoholic and adulterous wife of J.R. Ewing, who was originally played by Linda Gray in the primetime soap, which aired from 1978-91. If Lopez accepts the role, it work mark a return to studio fare after shooting a pair of back-to-back independent films.
Lovely. And all you die-hard Dallas fans out there, you won't notice a thing either, will you? Because JLo's a SUPERB actress. She hasn't said 'yes' yet---she's been offered the role...odds are she'll take it---and when she does, she'll make us totally forget that Sue Ellen Ewing...
...is a (drunk, reinvented) highbrow, whitebread southern diva, because that's the kind of give-it-her-all thespian Mrs. AnthonyLa Lopez is.
Wonder if she'll have a southern twang.
(On the real, it certainly would be interesting to see her play Shaquanna Jackson. All she'd need is a smokier tint to her skin and a bit of a kink to her hair. She's already got the big ghetto ass.)
By the way, make sure y'all give The Lo Zone respect due. Way back in December (December 19, 2005, to be exact), I did a post called "Dunzo!," where I talked about Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey'simpending divorce, and I had a pic of Kristin Cavallari from MTV's wildly popular Laguna Beach in the blog post as well. For no particular reason, other than the fact that she always says "Dunzo." Well, guess who's supposedly dating now? That's right, Nick and Kristin.
Here's what my original post looked like:
Jessica Simpson officially filed for divorce.
Big whoop. I don't give a rat's ass about that. I just wanted an excuse to say 'dunzo.' Kristin on Laguna Beach says 'dunzo.'
And, of course, I wanna be just like her.
So you see? I'm psychic!! Respect due, dammit. Respect due. (I'll be opening a hit-or-miss psychic hotline soon.)
The Lo Zone. Predicting the future without even knowing it.
I figured since Blogger won't cooperate, I'd force my shit out (thus the "blogstipation" heading...get it?). Herewith, a mish-mash of some of the (uploaded in the past) images that have appeared on The Lo Zone. Just like real constipation, it's a mix of all kind of stuff that might not necessarily go together, sans commentary. You can't say I haven't been making it fun for you in the three months that we've been together.
Enjoy!!
(I know, Juan, I know. You don't have to say it, I'll say it for you. "I'm such a freakin' lady.")
There. That should be enough for now. I figured I've made my point to Blogger.com.
Once again, the website that I use to create my blogposts (then publish them up to my website in another location) ---Blogger.com (owned by evil giant Google, no less!!)---is bugging the f*ck out.
This newest quirk involves uploading images. The ability to do so has been down for more than 24 hours.
So I can't publish any of the cute little posts I've been writing for you guys because they all have new images that I can't even get uploaded. But I was smart enough to realize I could find old posts with already-uploaded images, copy the html code, post those pictures, and let them amuse you until I'm able to do posts with new pics again. Let's hope Blogger.com gets their shizz together. In the meantime...
ShoeBooties!!!
It's about time we saw this little guy again anyway. Don't you just love those itty-bitty black shoes?
If you're in the Los Angeles area, come through and check me out this week at my next event. I'll be reading from and signing my new book, Sex.Lies.Murder.Fame....
Speaking Of White-Clothed People, There's A Reason Tom Wolfe Is One Of My Favorite Authors.
Only one of the most brilliant literary minds ever, a man unabashedly bad enough to dress in all white everyday, dapper as hell, like The World's Most Immaculate Pimp(er of the word), would be equally bad enough to trick out his ride in matching pure white. Yesterday's New York Times ran a story about how dude (who, by the way, is 75) got his ride totally pimped out in white to match his totally white pimped-out person. Per the article:
The author said his journey began a few years ago when his son, Tommy, told him about Sprewell spinners, the perpetually rotating wheels named for Latrell Sprewell of the N.B.A. (and an early adopter). Intrigued, Mr. Wolfe boned up on car-culture trends.
...a journal I like to think of as the horny muthafucka's intellectual man of color's ass rag periodical of choice (uh, along with the equally jizztastic erudite Smooth Magazine).
KIMBERLY Stewart should pre-wash her feet before going to get a pedicure. Rod's daughter showed up to the W magazine Oscar Hollywood retreat house in Beverly Hills for a spa treatment, but when she took off her shoes for the pedicurist, our spy said, "her feet stunk so [bleeping] bad that the pedicurist refused to do her toes . . . or anybody else's for the rest of the day."
Damn. Now that's some nasty shizz, because usually the mani/pedi folks I've seen won't turn anybody away. They just put on their little surgical masks...
...get out their weaponry, and get to sandblasting.
The unwashed elite. Continuing to f*ck things up for everyone.
Had yet another wonderful book club experience on Saturday to discuss my new novel, Sex.Lies.Murder.Fame.
I've met with the lovely ladies of Reading Group of Sisters and Friendson prior occasions with some of my other books. They're always gracious, animated, and fun to be with, and this time was no different.
One member, Jan Walker, even flew in from South Carolina (where she now lives) to be a part of the experience and to surprise some of the other members.
Thanks ladies, for showing me such a fabulous time. Hugs to you all!!!
And thanks for the gift and that gorgeous mixed media card you all signed for me!!!
Please be sure to watch the next airing of My Two Cents, a new one-hour program on BET J (formerly BET Jazz) with four distinct voices taking on the issues of the day, including race, pop culture, the prison crisis, and current events. This week's show, which premieres today at 1pm and 9pm EST (10am and 6pm PST), will feature a very, very dear friend of mine (check for him in the acknowledgments of my new book), my "little brother"---Bryonn Bain, one of the most incredible, dynamic, multi-talented people I've ever met. That's not an overstatement. Seriously, folks.
Bryonn's credentials are too many to name. His impact upon the socio-cultural landscape has already been noteworthy, and is increasing exponentially as I type this. To wit, a cover story on Bryonn done by the venerable newspaper The Village Voice generated the largest reader response in the history of the paper---ultimately, some ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND letters and e-mails.
He was later profiled and interviewed on 60 Minutes by award-winning veteran reporter Mike Wallace in a segment that was seen by over twenty million viewers. Bryonn was again featured in the The Village Voice in yet another incredibly compelling chapter of the journey that is his extraordinary life. Bryonn has been trailblazing his way across the country and around the world since I've known him---as, among myriad other things, the youngest adjunct professor ever at NYU's Gallatin School, making history by teaching the very first course on The Spoken Word.
He is an author; an artist (hip-hop musician, Slam Poetry Champion of the world-renowned Nuyorican Poets Cafe in 2000, and more); an activist (with national outreach work through the Lyrics on Lockdown campaign that uses hip hop, spoken word, theater, dance, and the visual arts to raise awareness and mobilize action to abolish America's prison crisis; co-founder of the Blackout Arts Collective); an academic (lecturer, professor, president of his class all four years at Columbia University---a first in the history of the school, Masters Degree in Urban Politics and Culture from NYU, law degree from Harvard University); an actor...
...uhhhhhh...you starting to get my drift here? This man is a walking phenomenon.
...describes Bryonn as a poet who "...speaks his truths with a power we desperately need to hear...one of the leading legal minds of his generation."
True dat to the nth degree.
Please, people...again, check him out on BET J's new show, My Two Cents. You'll get several chances to see it this week, but try to catch today's airing if you can, at 1pm and 9pm EST (10am and 6pm PST). This young man is someone you will be hearing from very soon, if not already, on socially, culturally, musically, and internationally-significant levels. For real. Trust.
The company that hosts my website was apparently bugging the fuck out, huh? They're typically pretty sharp and provide exceptional support services, but I guess when shit goes down, shit goes down.
I'm just finding out. I was busy getting drilled (and not in a good way) by the dentist. By the time I got wind of things, the problem had already apparently been resolved.
Thanks for all the e-mails letting me know The Lo Zone was down. Good lookin' out, kids, good lookin' out.
Seeing as how someone died during the making of this all-star video and Busta became crazy elusive (read, went into hiding) and refused to talk to the cops (as did everyone else apparently) as a result, I figured y'all should at least see the video that was born out of that senseless murder.
I just gave each of my four dogs (Brooklyn, Lola, Milo, and Toshi) a SweeTarts jelly bean---one apiece (hey, these things come at a premium, remember?). Three of them scarfed them down. Two of the three were satisfied with having one jelly bean. One of the four, Lola (I know, this is starting to sound like a word problem), sucked the candied outer shell off hers, half-chewed the jelly bean, then walked away. Brooklyn eyed the half-chewed jb, desperately wanting to cop it, but knew she faced a dilemma, having grown up with the rigid rules of sharing we practice in this house ("no taking anything from another dog without my permission first; said dog must no longer want what is being taken from him/her"). I wasn't sure Lola was finished with her half-chewed treat.
A call came in. I turned my back for half a second. I saw creeping out of the corner of my eye. I'm talking the kind people spend big bucks to train their dogs to do. Like maybe the dog works in tv or something and has skills like that. By the time I could react to what I was seeing, Brooklyn was eating the half-chewed jelly bean.
Yesterday I was listening to Nas' hip-hop masterpiece, Illmatic...
...when I realized we never discussed on The Lo Zone last month's major, major news about him and Jay-Zfinally making peace.
I was gearing up for tour and was too harried to address it. But I will now.
I, for one, am hoping to see some powerfully magnificent shizz come out their union. Nas is married now. Odds are, Hova is too. They're getting consistent action and attention from two strong, beautiful women who are talented in their own rights, so these guys shouldn't have all that venom boiling in their nuts the way they used to. Now they can put their heads together and focus on the art and the art alone, instead of pissing matches (although pissing matches can be fun as hell).
Let's hope they continue to feel the love.
Still, you never can tell with that bitch Hip Hop. She's a selfish trick who can't stand a collabo for too long.
'Course, that's just my opinion. What do you guys think?
Mars vs Venus, The Shoe Edition: It's A Miracle We Ever Connect.
So this commercial comes on a few minutes ago. Guy's sitting in a shoe store, waiting for what logically seems to be his girl.
She's apparently taking her time picking out shoes.
Only a woman (or gay man or a man who's way too involved in his woman's wardrobe, which also makes him suspect---cough, foot fetishist, cough) will understand how thrilling this is for us. Only a man, I suppose, will understand this guy's agony.
He checks his watch. He endures. He endures.
His girl narrows her selection down to three distinctly different shoes. At long last, she comes over to him and asks:
"Which one do you like best?"
This is what she's holding out:
This is what he sees:
Poor bastard. Look at him.
Trapped like a rat.
Turns out this was a commercial for a Ford Fusion (go fuggin' figger).
I got them at an area Big K-Mart. I have a bit of a sweet tooth and I'm a sucker for something new, so I bought a bag. They were DELISH. So I went back a couple of days later and bought another bag. Scrumpdilly, these things were. I made a mental note to pick up some the next time I was in the store. I went back a month later. Imagine my bald-faced horror to learn these candies are only produced once a year, during Easter!!! There wasn't a bag to be had!!! The sheer shock of it nearly brought me to my knees in tearful outrage.
I vowed to never be caught like that again. Guess what? It's a year later. I went back to the Big K-Mart. There they were. A display of eleven of them. Guess how many I bought? Yup.
All eleven. And I'm going back again this weekend, in the hopes they've replenished the stock, and I'll buy those too. I'll buy them all---ALL THE SWEETARTS JELLY BEANS IN THE GREATER LOS ANGELES AREA---because I REFUSE to be deprived of my pleasure. (And because I'm a Libra, and we're stone-cold nuts. We operate in extremes.) I don't necessarily plan on eating them all, mind you (a sistah is way scared of diabetes). I just need to know I can have them when I want them.
That once-a-year stuff is about some bullshit. Please. Who is Nestle to tell me when I can have my SweeTarts jelly beans?
I don't know what this is. Perhaps something from an ad or what-not. But aren't they adorable (in a 'lawd, this is all the chirren need to see to get their heads screwed up even more' kind of way)?
Click here to go their website. Once you get to the site, scroll down to my book at the bottom of the page and click on the title to officially enter the contest. Entries must be made by March 23rd.
I was practically trying to eat this child through the tv screen last night as I watched him on American Idol.
He sang a mahhhhhhhvelous cover of Michael Jackson's hit, "Butterflies," that had me on my feet, inching dangerously close to the tv, yes, trying to get at him for real.
It was pretty daring of him to do the song, considering a guy's gotta be quite confident in his falsetto...
I hadn't. At least, not until I came across it casually noted in an article I was reading last night (now that I know what it is, I can't imagine why it would be casually mentioned anywhere---note, I'm not casually mentioning it now; I'm doing so with great gravity...trust). After I saw the word, I Googled the damn thing. Now, more than ever, I'm convinced that one day, my need to know is going to lead me down a cyber rabbit hole straight to hell. Beelzebub himself will be standing at the end with flames and a pitchfork, saying, "Welcome, Lo. We've been waiting for you. You should have never Googled that shit."
Anyway, there it is. I don't even know how to pronounce it. I will provide no links whatsoever to help you locate the word's meaning. You're at the mercy of your own curiosity. Heaven forbid, should you succumb, you find a live shot of what it is. Make sure you haven't eaten recently. And, oh yeah, make sure that, if you're going to faint, you're someplace where you'll have a soft fall.
One of my favorite sites, Gallery of the Absurd, has a rendering of former Sexiest Man In The Galaxy, Brad Pitt, as a veritable man-slave for his girlfriend (wife?) Angelina Jolie and her ever-expanding rainbow brood. What's interesting is that several of my friends and I have been discussing for some months now how amazing it is that Angelina's been able to take this original stoner, man's man kind of guy and turn him into The World's Sexiest Nanny. Apparently much of the world (that cares) has been thinking the same thing. It's great to see it captured in a drawing. This is a depiction of The Bradster as a pull toy. Check it out.
Brad Pitt has gone from sexiest man alive to subservient, pitiful yes-man who does whatever his girlfriend says. Ever since he met Angelina, he seems to have completely forgotten his self-identity. Don't believe us? Consider the following:
Angelina wears dark clothes, and what do you know.....Brad has started wearing dark clothes. Angelina is a pilot....and SURPRISE! Brad wants to be a pilot. Angelina is a Goodwill Ambassador, now Brad wants to be a Goodwill Ambassador. AND.... the most obvious example of Brad's spineless metamorphosis can be observed in how Angelina grabs his hand and leads the way at each and every photo op. Brad is a pull toy, a handsome man on wheels who tends and entertains the kids while Angelina dazzles.
Curious about the shiny red button on the Pull Toy's back? Press it and Pull Toy happily responds:
"Yes dear." "Whatever makes you happy, dear." "I agree with you dear, excellent idea." "Whatever you say dear."
This painting is dedicated to Jennifer Aniston. The tabloids claim you're still attached to Brad, but we hope you take one glance at this post and immediately forget him.
"Kellie, you're what's known as a 'naughty little minx.'"
Poor little Kellie Pickler (could she have a hokier, more countrified last name?) was just as astonished as I, although her surprise seemed to come from a place of genuine naivete, whereas I, having been saddled with the name Lolita my entire life (and all the suggestive connotations that come with it), know a smarmy come-on from a man when I hear one, veiled or not. And trust me, folks, I've NEVER been wrong. It may take a man months, years even, to act on his smarmy, veiled come-on (if he does at all), but you can smell the intent. Without fail. My instincts are superior, nay, spidey, when it comes to the detection of this type of thing. I may play dumb like I didn't notice what was said (in the hopes that the comment will just fade into the ether, especially if the guy is someone I consider a friend and nothing more), but trust me, it's been mentally filed under, "Watch this muhfucka closely." You'd be amazed at how fat that file has gotten over the years. A girl can't just be her fun, bubbly, relaxed self these days without some guys ruining the moment with an unsolicited I-wanna-fuck-you move.
But I digress...
Simon kept the lecherous largesse coming, making everyone feel all the more uncomfortable and awkward with the following effusive remark:
The typically always-smiling Kellie didn't know what to do with that comment, so she just stared blankly. Afterwards, when Ryan Seacrest suggested that Simon's creepy minx comment warranted further explanation, Kellie happily exclaimed, "I'm a mink!!!" Ryan politely pointed out to her that, no dear, that's not what he said you were.
Simon probably went home last night and nailed the hell outta his girlfriend, as visions of blonde cornflower minxy goodness...
Singer Bobby Brown has been arrested for minor motor vehicle violations dating back 14 years.
The 37-year-old entertainer was in town to watch his daughter in a high school cheerleading tournament on Friday night when a police officer conducted a warrant check and discovered the old misdemeanor charges of unlicensed operation of a motor vehicle, and having an uninsured motor vehicle trailer, according to Webster Police Chief Timothy J. Bent. He said a warrant check is “a common thing to do.”
Brown was “very cooperative” and was allowed to drive - with his bodyguard - to the police station after the cheerleading event at Bartlett High School, Bent said.
Brown was detained for about one hour, and was released on $40 bond.
[If I'm in Gitmo tomorrow for writing this, somebody please call my mama and let her know. Of course, the line may be tapped. Oh yeah, send Pepsi and fried chicken.]
This extraordinarily-talented man made a huge impact on not just me, but the world in general, having inspired generations of directors, photographers, writers, and artists who followed. The Great Gordon Parks directed the seminal film, Shaft, a film that spawned countless imitators, both onscreen and in the streets...
...and one of my personal favorites, the movie The Learning Tree, based on his novel by the same name (a book that deeply impacted me as a child). He was the first African-American to work on staff as a photographer for Life magazine.
His photos in such a major periodical proved to be portals offering front row seats for the rest of the world to witness a society in the midst of revolution.
Let me start first by saying Star Jones Reynolds was beautiful today on The View, and has been becoming more and more gorgeous with each show that passes. She's grown into a stunner. Seriously. My pics don't even come close to doing her justice.
Now. Today's Hot Topics segment of the show got a little interesting, as it typically does.
...that said "anywhere between two and three million women are married or have been married to men who have sex with men, and in most cases it's not marriages of convenience or a cover that the man is using, these are men who fall in love with women, often have children, then in about seven years, interestingly enough, the gay identity starts emerging. I'm not saying it was never there, but it begins to emerge and they can no longer hide."
"Was it always just hidden or just not, ah, publicly talked about?"
Barbara was at the table today. She responded with...
"You see, I'm not sure, Star. I mean, I do have friends who were married to men whom we thought were gay. I don't think the women knew. I think the men felt they had to be married, and somehow (sic) and they had children and somehow or other it seemed to work. It's different now when men feel either more liberated, if that's the right word, to do it, or not ashamed."
The dialogue continued as Star offered a possible explanation for the wives of these guys, particularly if they live in small towns (a la Brokeback Mountain):
"You wanna just try to hide, you know, your privacy...
...not just for yourself, but for your children and for your husband."
The (annoying) Elizabeth, in a rare moment of sane relevance, suggested a woman who suspects her man might be gay should take him to see Brokeback and see how he reacts, and if he seems really into it, that should tell the woman something.
I know I've given you guys two embedded videos in the past four days (can you tell I've learned how to do something new with my blog?), but I just HAD to put this video up. This is freakin' HILARIOUS. This is a spoof of what would happen if Microsoft got ahold of the iPod's packaging and tried to revamp and improve upon it. It's so typical of how Microsoft packages their products. Being a long-time Mac person who's accustomed to the simplicity of Apple's everything (and has been confounded more times than I can count by Microsoft's complicated ways), I was screaming with laughter as the video progressed. The music definitely heightened the hysterics.
Hopefully you get the same kick out of this that I did. Enjoy.
Yesterday I had the tremendous pleasure of being in the company of an extraordinary group of ladies for a book club brunch gathering.
The event was hosted by the lovely and graciousSally Hernandez at her gorgeous home, and was orchestrated by my new friend, Diedre Ware, who I first connected with earlier this year via exchanges with the LA Times, where Diedre works. Diedre is a total DOLL, and these women were sophisticated, well-read, and quite lively with conversation. And the food...my goodness!!! Sally really awakened my palate with the delicious spread she laid out for us. I had a blast with them!!!
Thank you, ladies, for letting me be a part of your experience.
Liveblogging The Oscars, Part 6: Sharon Stone Is Hagalicious
Sharon Stone stopped to be interviewed by the local ABC affiliate during the post-Oscar show. Home girl was looking mighty funky, like maybe she was caught in a wind tunnel. Looks like someone wasn't using their basic instincts when it came to a brush and a comb.
The award was presented by the multi-talented, multi-lingual (same-birthday-as-mine fellow Libran!!!) Will Smith... ...who fired off a series of greetings to the world in various languages before announcing the winner.
And it was so cool that when the award was accepted...
"I wanna know...how much money is in your mouth right now?"
Dude thought about it, and then answered...
..."I got thirty in mine, thirty thousand, baby, going down, yeah...," upon which he proceeded to do this... Go 'head, bruh!!! You earned it. The Durrrty South meets the Oscars. Damn, you gotta love it!!!
...presented the award for Best Supporting Actor, which went to George Clooney... ...which I'm so excited about, because I love, love, love me some George Clooney. A pack of dogs apparently got hold of Naomi Watts' dress and tore the front of it to shreds. And Dolly Parton is apparently an actual doll...
The good ones, anyway. Y'all go through so much to be with us. This is for y'all. (Some of you may have seen this before. Still, I think this cartoon is both telling and funny as hell.)
FemTone Vaginal Weights are weights that are used during Kegel exercises. FemTone Vaginal Weights are a set of five reusable, tampon-like, sterile cones of identical size and shape but of increasing weight.
FemTone weights when used during Kegel exercises (contracting the pelvic floor muscles) have been found to strengthen the pelvic floor and may improve urinary continence. Many women who utilize Vaginal Weights see marked results in trying to overcome incontinence. The FemTone Vaginal Weights are market leaders in this category.
Vaginal weights act as a training aid to Kegel exercises. These weights help women identify and exercise the appropriate muscle groups responsible for maintaining continence. By exercising these muscles many women have found they can overcome incontinence.
We have just been informed that this product was mentioned on the Oprah show. Many Urologists, Gynecologists, and Sex Therapists recommend vaginal cones to restore lost muscular condition in the pelvic area. We certainly welcome all of Oprah's viewers to ShopInPrivate.com. We are working hard to fill your orders quickly and (of course) privately.
This is my favorite part:
Please note that due to the nature of this product it is not returnable.
As if you'd get your cooch all 'roided out and capable of bending steel, and then send the shit back. As if.
Wendy said something about how, when you're using this thing at full potential, you'll be walking around with the equivalent of a five-pound bag of sugar in your snatch (my word, not hers). Can't be much worse than a couple of my over-packing exes.
Yep, you guessed it. That's the reason they're exes.
Fear Not, I'm Still Going To Put Up The Rest Of The Tour Pics...
I haven't forgotten or gotten lazy. There's still the pics from D.C. and Atlanta (and you really have to see the Atlanta signing...seriously). I'm just scrambling and doing a lot of catch-up, but you will be seeing them, plus I'll do some liveblogging of the Oscars this weekend. How can I not? For better or worse, that Three 6 Mafiamoment is going to be nothing short of historical.
This news is three days old, but I couldn't let the moment pass without commentary. Per the WTOP article:
Bonds entertained and delighted a small gathering of fans and teammates Tuesday by dressing up as Abdul to judge the San Francisco Giants spin-off of the hit Fox show "American Idol," called Giants Idol.
Bonds, who wore a strapless dress and a blonde wig, surprised everyone watching the mock contest, where young players had to sing in front of the judges.
I know this is all fun and games for Bonds and company, but I'm pretty speechless at this point. This is starting to seem like an epidemic.
Thanks to Lo Zoner Lance for the heads-up, keeping an ever-vigilante eye out for the Mammification Crew responsible for these acts of heinous emasculation.
Expect to get your bitch on this Sunday night when you're watching the Oscars. The Academy, in preparation for Three 6 Mafia's performance of their (I still can't say this shit without laughing) OSCAR-NOMINATED song, "It's Hard Out Here For A Pimp"...
...has given the rap trio permission to get bitchtastic when the song is vocally presented on the big gilded night.
There will be no F-word or N-word, but the word "bitches" will be heard by television viewers during the first-ever rap performance at the Academy Awards Sunday.
At the request of the Academy and ABC, which is broadcasting the Oscars show, the composers of best-song nominee "It's Hard Out Here for a Pimp" from the film "Hustle & Flow" have substituted less offensive words for the song's profanity-laced lyrics.
"As long as the Academy approves it, it's cool," said rapper Jordan "Juicy J" Houston, a member of Three 6 Mafia, which wrote the song for the film and will be performing it.
But he said he was told by actress Taraji P. Henson, who performed the song in the film, and will sing onstage with Three 6 Mafia, that the show's producers were letting her keep the word "bitches", in the chorus. "Taraji said the Academy told her she can say 'bitches,"' said Houston.
Hotdamn, y'all, I'm loving this!!! The Oscars is about to get durrrrrrrty!!!
This is either The American Dream or The American Nightmare. There is no middle ground here. I'm just happy it's happening in my lifetime. I love myself some good TV.
I truly hope Three 6 Mafia wins. I can't wait to see what these brothers look like with tinyOscaricons in their gilded grillz.
This is a very cool interview I did for my new book, Sex.Lies.Murder.Fame., with Bill Thompson on his show Eye On Books. If you're an author with a book out, you will eventually do Bill's show. I've done it for years and it's always fun and fast, a total blast. I can pretty much expect, without fail, a great exchange whenever I get to speak with him.
Click the following link to hear the podcast. The audio will begin as soon as you reach the website.
Looks like things are about to get ugly, and you know the trannies won't stand for that. Trannies are very detailed-oriented. They love order, flash, and color. Trannies like to, uh, keep it real. And if somebody's lying on them, you can best bet they're gonna set it straight.
Today's Page Six reports Eddie Murphy's estranged wife Nicole's attorney might bring up "the tranny" (you know "the tranny") in an effort to prove Eddie violated their pre-nup. And even though "that tranny" is dead, that doesn't mean they can't bring himherherm it up.
Since Page Six requires registration to read items on their site, I've put the article here to make it easy for you (see how much I love you guys?!!).
[click image to enlarge, then click once more to enlarge to read]
Sounds like this tranny thing might get tricky. Tricky trannies. Eddie and tricky trannies. Eddie and the Tricky Tranny. Wouldn't that make a great movie? In the age of Brokeback, it could be a total home run. (Or an "end run," as it were.)
We already know you're gay, Eddie. Really. It's okay.
The actor Damon Wayans has been engaged in a 14-month fight to trademark the term "Nigga" for a clothing line and retail store, a search of the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office's online database reveals.
Wayans wants to dress customers in 14 kinds of attire from tops to bottoms, and use the controversial mark on "clothing, books, music and general merchandise," as well as movies, TV and the internet, according to his applications.
But, so far, his applications have been unsuccessful.
No shit. That's because there's about forty/fifty million white folks in line in front of him who've been using the word for centuries, and, if anybody's got dibs on it, it's them. Hell, they coined the shit. Might as well let 'em have it.
Okay, let the firestorm of comments about to be posted start...right...NOW!!!
(...meanwhile, I'm about to go file a trademark request for "titties"...)
That section I circled and have arrows pointing to below?
That's where we sat. We practically commandeered the place. Next thing you know, Silena's song, I Like My Man Hard, from the Sex.Lies.Murder.Fame. soundtrack, was playing over the sound system. Then a sampling of even more of her music was playing throughout the restaurant's speakers, compliments of her trusty iPod. The crowd seemed to love it. Some even stopped by and congratulated us as they passed, not exactly sure why they were congratulating us, but pretty damn sure our table must be full of famous people (which it was, dammit!!). Nice New Yorkers. I freakin' love this city.
Look!!! There's Michelle...
...who was a part of our party, which included the great and wonderful Karu F. Daniels (my baby's daddy!!!), Mel Jackson, Team Amistad (Gilda, Rockelle, Dawn, Yona, Jen), publicist extraordinaire, Yvette Hayward, the incredible Q, Daytona (The Next Big Thing in hip hop), and, of course, Silena and me. Okay, so these pics are dark, but they were taken with my cameraphone, and I'm still learning how to operate the damn thing.
Check out Daytona, Q, and Michelle chillin' at the table. Oooooh...is that a copy of that awesome new book Sex.Lies.Murder.Fame. on the lazy Susan in the middle of the table? Why, I do believe it is!!!
And there's Mel, Yvette, and Katie, our server, who took great care of us all night. Yvette looks mighty happy, doesn't she? I guess that's what sitting close to Mel Jackson all night will do to a girl. (Trust me, I know...I was sitting on the other side of him. Yowza!!!).
After that, we said our goodnights to everyone, and Yvette, Silena, and I headed off to the Spy Club. Turns out the Queen of Shock Radio, Wendy Williams...
Yvette has worked with Wendy extensively, so she thought it would be great fun for us to drop in on her Champagne Launch Party. And what a scene it was!
There were girls dancing in cages and a bikini fashion show. I attempted to capture some of it with my cameraphone, but, well, you see my results.
This is my picture of the party.
This is my pic of the girls in the cage.
My photos went from bad to worse.
Still, I felt you guys needed to see this in its full, fleshy scope, so I pulled pictures of the party from another website so you could examine the action more clearly.
