Another MJ Bombshell! (UPDATE)

I posted this story on yesterday with high hopes that it was true. Unfortunately not. It was a hoax. Other MJ untruths are:

*Debbie Rowe denied wanting the children.
*Grace Rwaramba having to pump Michael's stomach because he was full of pills.
*Michael's body was beat, bruised and bald as initially reported by the LA Coroner's office.

People will lie about anything these days. I can only imagine what they will say about me when I punch my timecard and clock out for the last time.

It is being rumored that the kid that accused Michael Jackson of molesting him back in 1993, Jordan Chandler, is now recanting his story and saying that Michael was innocent and he only made the accusation because his father, Ivan Chandler told him to. I am not sure if this story is true but through my extensive journalistic investigating (searching the web...LOL), I will get the 411 to you with accuracy.

Debbie Rowe Speaks

Debbie Rowe, the mother of Michael Jackson's two oldest children has said that she will not be seeking custody of the children and had the following words to say to a British Tabloid. (She blew me away with this):

"I was never a good mother, I never felt any attachment to them. It was a better feeling giving them to him than it was keeping them as my own. I know I will never see them again. I was never cut out to be a mother - I was no good. I don't want these children in my life. My children are my animals now." Debbie explained that, "Michael was divorced, lonely and wanted children. I was the one who said to him, 'I will have your babies'. I offered him my womb - it was a gift. It was something I did to keep him happy. I was just the vessel. It wasn't Michael's sperm." Debbie explained the arrangement revealing, "I went to the 'office', which is what we called the medical clinic. They impregnated me. It's just like I impregnate my mares for breeding. It was very technical. Just like I stick the sperm up my horse, this is what they did to me. I was his thoroughbred."

This chick is cold!

THE BET AWARDS

NO COMMENT!!!

Well maybe a few questions:

1. New Edition as the Jackson 5. Why?
2. Jamie Foxx as host. Why?
3. Keri Hilson. Why didn't you stop performing like 3 minutes earlier than you did?
4. Beyonce'. Hummmm...what?
5. Was it me or did Diddy look like it was killing him to not take the stage for a MJ tribute.
6. Did the O'Jays turn it out or what? Yes.
7. Was it me or did it seem like Don Cornelius may finally be aging?
8. Jamie Foxx like 4 performances. Why?
9. Soulja Boy. Again, why?
10. Why all the hype about Maxwell?
11. Didn't Janet make you just want to hug her so tight?

All in all the BET Awards have gone to hell in a handbag and tried to ride the death of Michael Jackson in a attempt to boost ratings. So sad. The network is shit! Yes I said it, shit. Most people watch the awards to see the baffoonery not the talent because they don't even expect that anymore.

12. Why didn't they call me and ask me to sing a number for Michael?

A PICTURE SAYS A THOUSAND WORDS

Farrah Fawcett

Actress and 70's icon, Farrah Fawcett passed on today after a lengthy battle with cancer. I remember back in school every girl wanted hair like Farrah. You can call her what you want but she's still Jill Munroe to me.

What Church is This!?

The brother in the attached video is way too excited about giving up his tithes and offerings. Is this church in the US because the music sounds tropical...well can't be because here in the U.S., Rev. Bilberry and Deacon Johnson would have taken this brother straight to the loony farm. My only question is, "Why has he not been on the show, So You Think You Can Dance"?
Check him out: http://livesteez.com/watch/39fanQ/Dancing-in-Church

sidenote: I bet that envelope is empty.

Thanks Aunt Dell

I remember as a child spending the majority of my time around people old enough to be my grandparents. One of the things I remember most about those cherished jewels is that most of them did not have a whole lot of anything, but they had the cleanest homes you could ever live in and always kept themselves clean and tidy. I mean homes so clean you could literally eat off the floor. I remember one of Mama Elsie's friends, Aunt Dell (who was quick to call it as she saw it, LOL) would call us to take her out at the beginning of each month to cash her lil' check, pay a few bills, grocery shop and dash into Goudchaux's for something to wear to service the following Sunday. Now Aunt Dell got a small check that if I am not mistaken was around $750.00/ month. Even 20 something years ago, that was not much after rent, grocery and stuff. But my questions was, how could a woman with so little, always be so clean, neat and had one of the tidiest apartments in Baton Rouge? Because her motto was this, "Being poor or broke, is never an excuse for being nasty". Spread the word because some people need to know this.

POEM OF THE DAY - "Lost Father"

So this weekend, we celebrate fathers, right? This poem is about a father/son relationship that in the end, may not be the happy ending most people desire, but it speaks volumes to boys and men around the world who as children longed for their fathers. In my case, it was what it was. The journey that God had me on didn't include my biological father but He (God) put men (real men) in my life that set examples for me of what real men were. They helped nurture me, guided me, chastised me, and taught my how to conduct myself in public, in the presence of women and my elders. They taught me that respect was more than a word, it was an action and in order to get it, you had to give it....but to never automatically expect it. They taught me that being a man meant more than, dick or driving a Cadillac, more than fighting or pissing behind a tree. I learned about how to take care of the sick, how to feed a stray dog and how to stretch a dollar. I learned how to cut my own grass and take out a little time to cut my neighbors too or to say a kind word to the brother that was down on his luck and then give him a swig from the flask tucked away in your coat pocket. I learned how to fix a flat and build a dog house, but most importantly, stand up for what I believed in and never be to proud to say, I am sorry. They taught me how to pray and cry out to God but at the same time, hold back tears in an attempt to look strong for others who needed your strength. I learned how to hug another man without feeling or looking, "soft". I ultimately learned that no matter how strong or invincible you may seem, we all grow old and at one point in our lives, will have to depend on someone else to help us make it from day to day and then, in the end, we die and leave this earth in hopes that something we did, "right" stays in the heart of some young man we leave behind.

Wow, God is good and while on this Fathers day, I can't say that I am going all out for my old man. But I do thank God that he is alive and healthy and hope that he finds that much needed inner peace concerning his relationship with his children because I sure haven't. Read with a grain of salt...


Lost Father

Alas, my long-lost father to me has returned
to tell me of things I’d already learned.
I opened the door and welcomed him in
to sit and tell of where he had been.
I showed no emotion, not even a smile,
he started to cry and stare for a while.
He looked me down from my head to my feet,
placed his hand on my shoulder in a manner so sweet.
Looked me in my eyes and proceeded to say,
“Son, let me tell you why I went away.”
Before he could start, I cut in with haste
but choked at the startled look on his face.
“I know who you are and I know where you’ve been
so I won’t start with remembering when
as a child the wonderful things that I missed
as other boys played football, kited and fished
with their fathers who loved them enough to stay,
to lead, protect and show them the way.
Taught them to love, respect and then
showed them how to become real men.
Who was there on graduation day?
Just my mama, but that’s O.K.
I always felt that it was a shame
that you weren’t around but I carried your name.
Dear sir, you see now I’m 40 years old
but remember as a child the truth was then told
of the real reason you chose to walk away
and why you have come to my door today.
You felt the need to stray for a while
while my mother was carrying an unborn child.
Even the reality of the story was whack,
mother always said one day you’d come back.
So now that you’re old and alone
you need a place that you can call home.
But I’m sorry, my friend, my home is full
with the love that you left … and that’s no bull.
I haven’t yet learned just how to forgive
you for the life that you chose to live.
I’ll ask you to leave now to close my door
to my home and my heart to hurt no more.”
As he turned in anguish and walked away
I knew I would regret what I did that day.
So then, about a week after my deed,
I pulled out my morning paper to read.
Just curious to know of who had passed
I saved the death section to look through last.
When I turned the page, I froze in time
and stared in eyes that were just like mine.
I felt the hurt, I carried the shame
but managed to notice they misspelled his name.
Canyou is spelled with a capital “C”,
last name, F-O-R-G-I-V-M-E.
I sat in this horror and for hours I cried
that alas, my long-lost father had died.

WYLD STYLZ

Do I Laugh or Do I Cry?

This mess right here is worse than the pictures I saw years ago of Tupac's autopsy. This is cause for a riot worse than the Watts Riot of 1965. Just look people!!! Look!

This is who we should have voted for President!

I want you to forget everything you’ve ever read, heard, seen or thought of about powerful women in American history because my girl, Sybil epitomizes female empowerment. I first saw this video a few years back, but for some reason this morning woke up with the phrases, “Damn, who I live with” and “Gimme mines” lingering in my mind and flowing from my lips over and over again. This was accompanied by a visual of my girl, Sybil getting them right on together. Now when I first saw this I though that there may have been an issue with some mental instability going on here and that would not have been funny. But then the camera panned in to the two 16 oz. cans of Colt 45 on the dining room table (LOL). Sybil is waaaaaaaaay too much. If there is any such thing as past life, then my girl Sybil was a fierce warrior leader who ruled with an iron fist that would make Hitler look like a nursing student who stays high by stealing Xanax from the patients in a long term care facility. By the same token, she would have any woman considered more attractive than her beheaded. This is what I call a woman y'all. I want to one day meet her as badly as I want to meet Oprah...seriously. NOW, you can enjoy your weekend!