Barbershop Logic: The New Gaydar

I don’t know how many of you have ever been to a black barbershop, but it is honestly one of the funniest places on earth.

It is just a bunch of Black men standing around offering either completely underinformed or hilariously overinformed opinions on everything. This one killed me though. Here’s the story.

Brian McKnight did a show here and some of the dudes in the shop went. (Of course they had to emphasize that their ladies dragged them there…and they didn’t like it) I guess at some point Brian McKnight was giving shouts out to the crowd to all the couples out there and specifically a gay male couple, saying, “I see you guys out there too, God bless you” So the original controversy was that he said “God bless you”, but the conversation rapidly turned to the fact that Brian McKnight must be gay.

Okay, first of all, 70 percent of all male pop and R&B singers automatically come under suspicion. It must have something to do with all the sensitive love songs they are putting out there. Then the barber in the booth next to me said “I always knew Brian McKnight was gay”. The debate started up “you just think that because he’s a singer”, “I thought he was gay too”, “nah, I’ve seen him in the club with some bad bitches dawg”, but my man stayed firm, 100% sure. Finally, someone called him on it and asked. “Yo why are you so sure?”

“No Pockets”

*silence*

“He never has on pockets. If your pants ain’t got no pockets…you gay” The evidence:

Damn, he’s right. No pockets. If he had pockets, the hands would be in the pockets, not on the place on his thighs where his pockets should be. I wasn’t convinced. You know me, I had to do more research.

Aw damn, I’m thinking those snakeskin pants ain’t got no pockets. There is definitely a trend here.

Then they went to Prince. I had to say, look, Prince has been with some of the baddest chicks of all time: Vanity, Carmen Electra, Apollonia, Sheena Easton, Mayte Garcia, and is currently doing it Hugh Heffner style with these two ladies.

That’s not gay to me. Sure the man wears high heels, he plays shirts vs. blouses basketball on the shores of Lake Minnetonka, but I say he’s not gay. The debate raged on until it settled down and got around to my man in the next booth.

“No Pockets”

Damn. He’s right again. Airtight logic, what could I say? I guess that gives new meaning to the term “get your pockets right”.

-Brock

I Hate To Do It, But It’s Prom Season In The Hood

I’ve already been told by my people in the office that this will not be a topic that I should elaborate on too much. So I’ll just go with the “a picture is worth a thousand words” flow. But sadly, it’s Prom season in the hood yall, here we go:

Now see this I don’t get. I mean, how does a man get coaxed into rocking a Winnie the Pooh get up? And no I don’t care that your nickname has been “Pooh” since you grand mommie, who is now 43 by the way, named you that because you looked just like a pooh bear when you were born, ok? I don’t care. It’s fucking awful and so is that fake Miami Vice beach background you’re standing in front of…alright? Now, I will admit that my man’s swagger game is completely intact and at least his date is fully covered (for now), but whoever told you that shit was cool lied to you. Damn.

*Blink Blink* Help.

While I do appreciate the double up on the women Lakey style, I just can’t quite comprehend how this cat is rocking a Confederate Rebel inspired tux….I mean, baby girl’s expression on the right just about says it all. And by the way, I don’t like the look in my man’s eye. I’m really not comfortable with it. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s dreaming of a prom like this:

But who knows… Goodness.

She got me speedin in the fast lane,
Pedal to the flo’ mayne, tryna get back to her love…
Best believe she got that good thang,
She my lil hood thang, ask around they know us…
They know that’s minnee (BUSS IT) Baybaaay…
Erybody know that’s mine (BUSS IT) Baybaay…
Erybody know that’s minnee…

Ole girl on the right needs a bit of an adjustment….a lift if you will. I mean, if you had to guess how much dough these babes paid for these dresses what would you say? $180 total? And those shoes? I mean, why pay more when you can pay less? AHNT… Why am I even posting on this? This is awful and now I feel dirty. Oh, I know why, because there really aint shit going on in the news and Brock’s a mufucka! Next.

Is it just me or are all these dudes extra soft? Maybe this is just how dudes are built these days. Meaning, if you aren’t a complete thug, you’re just a yatch. I mean, what would possess a man to think he can rock a sheer hooded curtain with some strips of yella, pank and green? Fucking awful.

Ahh, finally a man who has some decent gear on. I can live with this. But wait, who is that he’s with? His MOMS!!!!? Dammit, why do cats take their mother to the prom? I never got that. I know your mom is your “best friend” but trust me, nobody wants her old ass at the prom getting hype when the Cha Cha Slide comes on. Horrible, awful. And no Bill Cosby didn’t get it.

None of it.

– Lake

Somebody Tell Steve Harvey No One Wants to See This

Steve Harvey has apparently put down the Popeye’s chicken and started working out and he wants everyone to know. Now normally I wouldn’t cover this kind of story because I don’t like to put nudity and all kinds of filth flarn filth on the interweb. But I just can’t let this slide. It all started a few months ago when Jet magazine published this picture of Steve Harvey.

Extra tight black beater, some sort of extra chest muscle not found on any anatomy drawing, Steve getting his skrong, bald black mens on. It’s f’n terrible, but not completely offensive. So I guess some big girls on the streets of New York told Steve that he sure looked good because he has now launched the “take your shirt off campaign” for the summer. So we ended up with this

What the fuck is that? Come on Steve, put that away. That is just plain ridiculous. My bad, I should have marked this NSFW with those exposed breasts. We’ll ask Lake about Steve’s “J game” later. First, of all who told Steve that grease is an important part of any picture you take with your shirt off. Fine, if you are going to get greased up like a damn professional wrestler do you thing. Steve decided to slather it on thick. This wasn’t a rub down, he looks like he broke out the paint sprayer, filled it with baby oil and went to town. That shit ain’t right. He’s going to end up with a Jheri Curl juice stain on his jeans behind that technique. Then he threw on the ARod, turrible gear Hall of Fame mom jeans on top of it? I’d rather see Steve in those terrible three piece, seven button, extra long suits with the extra tight line up than let the “take your shirt off challenge” go on for another day.

Call Steve, write to your senator, take the protest to the streets, some how, some way, make him stop.

Please.

-Brock

=================Update===============

Man, you gotta give Steve a bit of a pass.  First off, he’s from Cleveland.  No offense to my Cleveland peeps, but that custom mustard 8 button suit idea he stole from Chess King shouldn’t get lost on all of this.  Second, Steve just got rid of the high top fade long about 2002 when the forced baldy was upon him. Anybody who holds onto an antiquated haircut for that long, can’t really be faulted for his other social faux pas.

Damn, I saw these Harvey pics on the web in passing, but I though it was just a case of photoshop gone horribly wrong.  I didn’t think they were actually THAT CAT…  Damn, let us pray.

– Lake

Why Do Old People Always Wear These Shoes?

I love sneakers, I’m a Nike man myself, but I definitely appreciate all brands. You can find almost anything on the internet these days but I’ve never figured out how all old people find these joints.

All white, no logo, crisp as hell. I guess those joints are okay, but damn put a little flavor on it. I’m not saying you’ve got to rock Obama Air Force Ones, but put some steel blue on that joint, a red stripe in the back. The best is when they throw some velcro on it.

Oh yes, the Herman Munster special right there.

Well if those are the rules, I guess I’ve got to follow them.  When I turn 72, I’m rocking these:

Oh yes, Brock keeps it pimpin’.

-Brock

Bow Wow Wow Yippie Yo Yippie Yeeeeee-haw

I love Snoop.  He’s been in the game for 15 years and is still so legit that he can get away with this.

Where do I start?  The Cowboy hat?  The belt buckle?  The leather vest?  That shirt?  That chain?  The jheri curl?  Man, if he had cut the sides of the curl in a full on mullet he really would have stuck the landing on this one.  Pedro knew how to lock it in.

Damn, that curl is shiny as hell.  I know the back of his neck is so slick that he’d probably get suspended for throwing a curve ball after he touched it.  Baseball really needs to look into this.

Seriously though, Snoop is rolling cowboy style when he started looking like this:

Really real, really gangster.  To this:

I had to get the full length joint so I can peep the cowboy boots.  He still looks like he’s wearing Stacy Adams.  I knew that damn belt had a metal tip too.  Haaaa!

-Brock

Running in the Cuffs: Stupid Criminal Watch

This is a great one. Apparently Cleveland Browns player Kenny Wright was arrested a few days ago for marijuana possession.

He had 1.875 ounces on him. The UvT weed heads can let me know whether that counts as personal possession or possession with intent to distribute. Back in the day Nate Newton made it clear, he had a van full of bricks, 213 pounds worth, Kenny just wanted to get his smoke on.

So here is where the story gets good. The cops arrest him, he’s heading to the station, for some inexplicable reason he is in freaking Pearland, Texas. Standard stuff, right. He’ll get booked, may spend a night in the drunk tank, people will see the story and think he’s a Bengal instead of a Brown, then he will end up back in Pearland about three months from now and made to do some community service and pay a fine. Case closed right? Naaaaaaah. So here’s what Kenny decides to do. He decides to break out his defensive back skeeeels and MAKE A RUN FOR IT AT THE POLICE STATION.

Well, I guess you should throw deep on the Browns next season because old Kenny got run down by Pearland’s finest within a quarter mile. That means that he also gets to add unlawful restraint and evading arrest to the rapsheet. Look, one of my boys tried to run in the cuffs a few years ago. That raises all kinds of other questions, like:

1: Where the hell do you think you’re going?

2: How were you going to get the handcuffs off?

3: Do you really think you can outrun trained cops with your hands bound behind your back?

4: You are an NFL player…they already have your name and information…you think they don’t know where to find you? I think Ohio’s extradition laws to Texas are pretty sound. See question #1.

I’ve already covered enough to make this a Us Versus Them classic. But that’s not all. Check my mans mugshot.

Well damn, I guess he did get picked up for weed charges. Let’s go ahead and excuse that turrible ass damn low cut, cleavage errr clavicle bearing G-G-G-G-G-Unit grey beater this dude is has on. Let’s also excuse the fact that his tattoo makes him look like he got a chest hair shape up with a high left, low right. This dude is tweeeeeded out. I thought the herb was supposed to calm you down? Why is this dude running for the hills like he’s hopped up on Red Bull, speed, caffeine, and Mountain Dew?

Great job Kenny.

-Brock

Pony Making a Comeback?

…and by a comeback I mean coming back onto your television screen. It is actually a shame because they have clever commercials:

…and by clever I mean they jacked some of the hottest commercials of the past few years. Honestly, I don’t care what kind of commercials they have nobody feels tough rocking a shoe called “Pony”. Do you feel tough listening to Ginuwine’s Pony? Playing with My Little Pony? Getting a Pony for your birthday? Do you wear your hair in a ponytail? I’m going to assume that my loyal UvT readers answered “no” to all of those questions. If not, go get some milk and cookies because “him downstairs”.

Ponytail guy, let me introduce you to neck tattoo guy. The same rules apply. I know you might think it is cool to rock the ponytail, but if you have a job, no one there is taking you seriously. Just like neck tattoo guy, you need to be an entertainer, an athlete, or pro skateboarder. Wait…a pro skateboarder is an athlete? Sure thing, my bad. Seriously ponytail guy, are you having trouble trying to figure out how to get to the next level at your job? Get an f’ing haircut. I don’t care how long it took you to grow it out, I don’t care how much of your bald spot it is covering, get rid of it and instantly start making $10,000 more than whatever you are making now.

Correction, there are two other jobs you can have…hairdresser, and IT guy. There, now the list is final.

Here’s the only guy who flipped his ponytail into success. Once again, an entertainer:

You don’t want to be that guy do you?

Back to the subject, the Pony commercial is hot because they jacked one of the hottest Nike commercials ever. Check out the original here.

Since we’re talking about it…here is the hottest song in a commercial.

That joint is a standalone rhyme delivered by Jada. Yes it is on the iPod Touch.

-Brock

Guilty: Remy Is Going to Jail

SURPRISE!! Nobody’s favorite rapper Remy Mom is on her way to the big house.

What, you can’t just shoot your friend in front of one of the busiest nightlife sections of NYC and get away with it? What is this world coming to? Again, here is a picture of wild Remy and her ex lady friend, the one she busted a cap in over 3 stacks.

Damn these broads are rough. I hate to say it, but I’d be willing to be that Don Imus was looking at these babes before he threw dirt on the Rutgers Hoops squad for no reason.

And how do you go from “let’s go out to Pop Burger Tonight” to “where da bitch at?” followed by rapid gunfire to the stomach piece inside of one evening? I mean, if I was going to shoot Brock’s punk ass over some low shit, the least I’d do is wait for the argument to marinate a little bit and I sure as hell wouldn’t be rolling with the cool steel talkin about “That’s my word, if this fool says one more thing to me about dat Allison Stokke post, he’s a goner. ” I mean, damn. Let the murderous rage marinate ladies.. Let it simmer, see?

Anyway, I wonder if Remy will be going to Rikers to meet up with Foxy Brown?

Help….Ok, that wasn’t fair. We’ll show a flattering pic of Fox Boogie.

Happy? You know ole girl hasn’t been doing well with her bid. She’s been all wild in the news, asking for medical discharge and the like. I mean, come on babe, all this bitching and crying is fucking up your studio gangster ghost writer credibility.

I think Ms. Ma is a bit different though. Don’t get me wrong, she’s just as crazy as Foxy, only I think Remy really is thugged the fuck out on the rizzeal.

Shoot, I’d be willing to be almost anything that in a matter of weeks she’ll be trading cigarette packs for young nubile hoe meat on the open pokey market.

On thing I do appreicate, at least the fashion police can close their Federal Inquiry into that horrible fashion sense and correspondingly turrible ass gear.

Goodness! See ya in 5 to 25 years errr 36 months, Ma.

– Lake

He used to be the baddest man on the planet

Now look at him.

Mike Tyson coming out with a bitch bag at the irregulars errr discount suit spot? Say it aint so.

Getting rolled up on by substandard post-cougar mamis errrr mommies?

The look on the white cat’s face pretty much says it all, in fact, I think that’s my cousin Drake (sure his gear and hair are horrible, but he’s a director, it’s part of his earthy shtick), giving him our patented Arlington family gas face. The truth is and I hate to say this because I’m a big Mike Tyson fan, but Mike aint been shit since I whooped his ass in Punch Out.

Horrible.

– Lake

Classically terrible Material: Last Night by Az Yet

I was in a NYC cab with my boy K-Peso a few weeks ago on our way to a party and this song came on. It sounded familiar but I couldn’t place it, then I just started to get excited though I didn’t know why. I mean, it was something about that intro, it smacked of thousands of jokes in days long past. Then it happened, those first terrible lyrics hit my ears and I immediately demanded that my Pakistani friend at the controls turn that mufucka up!

Dude, I mean, where do I start. First off, I’ll attach these unbelievable lyrics at the end, but first let me make a few comments:

1. The name of the group, “Az Yet”: Come on. I mean, what kind of creative session did these cats have to come up with that? “You know what I’m sayin’ we aint done all we gone do ‘Az Yet’ oh, oh wait, dats it.. On the forreala (remember this was the 90’s). ‘Az Yet,’ now datz whuddup!” Terrible.

2. The Lyrical Content: In order to grasp just how fucking corny and terrible this shit is, you really need to focus all of your attention on the second verse. I mean, is this cat serious with the sincerity with which he delivered those lyrics? And who wrote that shit, a young Farnsworth Bentley? It seems like a basic question, but to write that lyric you have to have an appreciation for the so called “finer things” (mountains, sun, moon, stars, wine, blood) while similtaneously not having any taste or concept for how fucking terrible it really is. That’s not just any ole body. And then the notes they paired it with; that crazy ass step ladder, upper register, Randy Jackson “I just didn’t get it dude” crescendo at the end. I mean, the shit is BONKERS!!!!

“Eye, drank your wine, as you drank my-eye-eye-oow-eye-e-ine, EYE kissed your lips, you suck at politics (that would it sounds like to me) into your soul-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-Oil-OIL, Eye almost cried ‘cuz it was so beautiful!!!!!!!” AAAAHNNT!

3. Choreography and Gear: Do you all see these fucking horrible dance moves these cats are coming with especially in front of that completely bullshit background of clouds, flowers coming into bloom and mountain tops? I mean, these dudes are rocking those same steps the Five Heartbeats had before the old man stepped in, only it wasn’t 1958, it was 1997!!! I mean, that step kick, swing was fucking horrible, almost as horrible as the assortment of linens, whites, patten leathers, and stark blacks they had on. Now we see where the term “Gotta keep it real” actually came from. Somebody saw this shit and immediately needed a cliche to keep the trend at bay. Holy smokes that shit is awful.

4. Composition of the group: First off, you don’t need 6 cornballs for this song, you only need two. Second, I mean, look at these cats. You’ve got your basic “chocolate brother” kicking the song off, then you go to the light skinned cat who clearly just thrives off the fact that he’s light and when he puts that activator to work, he gets immediate results, then you have the clown with the cornrows..and a wild Eric Benet/Latino cat…I mean, jeez. It’s like they handed out parts to cats on how to look. Fucking awful, horrible, horrendous.. I mean, I’d say send these cats to the lions, but luckily history has already done it for me, because you aint seen an Az Yet single in a clean 10 year period. And it’s just a hunch, but how much do yall wanna bet the light skinned cat is working at a Kinko’s in Dallas. Lol.. He just has that real “I’ve got other skillz” look to him.

5. One Liners: What exactly did that cat mean by “Last night, there was no blood in it?” I’ll just leave that right there

6. Now something positive: Fellas, if you’re ever hittin some ass and you literally “see the sun, the moon, the mountains AND the rivers,” that’s some good ass tail. Not only is it Cheapa to Keep her, but that might be something you just go ahead and tuck in for yourself. Either that or you should call Lake the smoove romantic and I’ll set her straight. Ha.

Ok, enough, here are the lyrics:

Last night, you were so into it
You told me secrets that, you never told a soul
You were so nervous and, yet oh so comfortable
As we explored your image of love

I drank your wine as you tasted mine
I kissed your lips you felt my mind slip
Into your soul
I almost cried cuz it was so beautiful

1-Last night I was inside of you
Last night while making love to you
I saw the sun, the moon, the mountains and the rivers
I saw heaven when I made sweet love to you

Last night there was no blood in it
It was so special and, so very innocent
We talked of memories, our favorite fantasies
As we explored, our visions of love

Deep in the night, right by the fireside
You felt my candlelight in your soul
You felt incredible, I started to explode
I almost cried cuz it was so beautiful
(repeat 1)

Sunlight, (sunlight) red roses (red roses)
The scent of you it calms the heart
The sight of you I fall apart
Moonlight, the things we noticed
Oh we’re in love, that’s when it comes
And I’m so, I’m so in love
(rpt 1…)

-Lake

————-UPDATE—————-

I just want to send out a big F-You to Lake on this one.  It is now 10:30 pm EST and this f’ing song has officially been stuck in my head all day.  Asshole.

-Brock