I Scramble Like Randall With His

Cunningham
But the only thing runnin is numbers fam
[Sonny] held you down [all summer] damn
Where's the love?

Philly Stand Up! I tell ya, isn’t this the best week ever? Why yes, yes it is! And why shouldn’t it be? It’s Philly Appreciation Week all over the globe! Yes I said the GLOBE! NAH-MEAN?!?!

And when I say global, I mean all over the world! First, the fire is spreading! I got Sweden repping the 215! Stockholm Stand Up! I got Miami repping the 215! Philly in Miami! (I wonder if the store is still open! If not, there’s always me. Me! Sonny “I like my me-time”Redd!) I got Virginia repping the 215! I see ya, Glory. And I gots the whole damn blogosphere screaming Philly Stand Up!

Today’s action items…further Philly fanaticism (Sonny “alliteration” Redd); a bet (yes, your boy will continue his global dominance by winning a wager, cause that’s what I do. Sonny “Damn he’s a cocky bastard” Redd); and some of that educational shit that y’all seem to appreciate. You all tucked in? Heerrreee we go!

First rappers to win a Grammy rep where? First rapper to get a TV deal, from where? Teddy Pendergrass reps where? Neo-Soul is from where? The “transformer scratch” was invented where? Gangsta Rap has its roots where? (P.S.K. we making that green. People always ask what the hell does that mean? Sonny “Don’t make me school ya’ with a hint”Redd.) Wilt Chamberlain played ball with which of your favorite Blogger’s father, dated said blogger’s aunt (and no she isn’t among the infamous 20,000. And this is a “that’s my story and I’m sticking to it” digression.) and repped where? Few more just for shits and giggles- Patti LaBelle, Sly Stallone and the great Bill Cosby! I said, the great Bill Cosby!

Now why is it Philly Appreciation Week? Simple. As the great negro poet LL Cool J once remarked, “It’s the sport of kings. Better than diamond rings. Football. Football.” Yes, it is football season!

I love football season. For one thing, men around the world become smarter during football season. I suppose, like Christmas, it is a happy time of year where folks greet their neighbors. For the remainder of the year, men will be of good cheer. “Hey Bob” becomes “Hey Bob, some touchdown last night.”

And, for malevolent pricks like myself, it allows me the opportunity to say, “Bob, I saw your guy choke on that interception. Youse fucking suck! (oh, and your Mom’s a whore, too!)” (Okay the second thought doesn’t often get uttered. But when you meet fans of certain teams, it brings the best out of you. And this is a “Thank God the summer is over and we can get back to what matters…Football” digression.)

And of course Football season means one thing; say it with me now…E-A-G-L-E-S! EAGLES! Or, as we affectionately (and somewhat ignorantly) call them Iggles! Go Iggles!

And in the spirit of this momentous occasion, I have proffered a wager of sorts to a fan of the most vile creatures that God has ever saw fit to allow to roam His land. I SonnyRedd, proud fan of the noble and mighty Philadelphia Eagles, have bet Diva-in-Demand, poor misguided soul who heard the lure of Satan himself and pledged her loyalty (and her soul because I’m telling you, Jerry Jones has been dead for 15 years. That bastard must be a vampire. Sonny “Buffy the Jerry Jones Slayer”Redd.) to the disgusting, vile, villainous, revolting Dallas Cowboys. But, dear readers, you mustn’t be too hard on her. Pity her for being misguided, but forgiver her, for she knows not what she does.

But we will show her the error of her ways. When we win, the Diva herself will be a guest blogger on this very page, to proclaim not only the dominance of the mighty Iggle Nation, but the greatness of your’s truly.

And, should the unthinkable happen (like every single man on the Iggles Roster get struck with polio, and be unable to play, cause that is the only shot she got) and the Cowboys beat the Eagles…well, I’ll do the same on her page.

So true believers, twice this year, the Diva herself will come and sing my praises, and the praises of the Iggles! Isn’t that great! (and a note to any of y’all half-witted Giants or Redskins fans, oh I mean Midgets and Deadskins fans…you want some of this, just come see me Ak! Name and url in the comments. You know what it is! Early!)

Wow. Y’all excited, cause I know I am. Now, on to the meat and potatoes.

So I saw the first 15 minutes of Flava of Love. I watched it for merely 15 minutes. I then paused, rewound and watched the same 15 minutes no less than 37 times. I haven’t seen any more than the first 15 minutes. I will watch the other 75 minutes at some point, but after spending 3 hours watching the same 15 minutes, the other 75 minutes have to be a let down. If you haven’t seen it, well…I am going to ruin the first 15 minutes of Flava of Love for you. You will have 75 uninterrupted minutes. Let me know how they turn out.

If you are unfamiliar with the show, it is a game show that pits “worthy women” against one another for the job of Flava Flav’s baby momma. Now given that Flava (who is NOT from Philly, yet another reason for Philly to STAND UP!) already has a coupla ex-baby mommas and one of them is a 6’7” white woman who is also Sly Stallone’s ex-baby momma (and there is your Philly connection) he invited an eclectic mix of young women, trailer trash, ex-skrippers, current skrippers, aspiring video hoes and negresses to vie for his affections. Well, women of such caliber need be housed, so he also has them living under one roof.

Upon their arrival, the ladies begin to find their beds. Because the show is a game of elimination, they find that there are too few beds for them. And that is when it gets good. As a student of anthropology, I took keen interest in the following events and recap them for you in scientific prose. (Think National Geographic special).

The trailer trash mark their territory by jumping on beds. As a trailer trash finds a bed, she and her stilettos must jump on it. Sleeping on beds is a new experience for many breeds of trailer trash, as they often sleep on futons, or in the back seat of a ‘76 Camaro, as the case may be. And here, the case was no different.

Unfortunately, a negress – in her prime and straight out of San Quentin Penitentiary – was also marking territory. The negress, resplendent in her mane of $800.00 worth of Asian children’s hair, marks her territory by rubbing her (ample…she was phat to def!) ass upon the bedspread. Negresses often display this behavior – some researches hypothesize that the negress does this to acclimate herself to an empty bed. Later in life she will replace this behavior with the acquisition of a freshly released felon – and later still, three to four children who all share her bed.

And there we were, trailer-trash and a negress, competing for the same bed. There were exchanges of “bitch” between the two, and then…not unexpectedly, the negress proceeded to maul the trailer trash. And by “maul” I mean, “Whup dat trick!” (a.k.a. You’re fuckin’ done, Son! Or the ever popular, “You got knocked the fuck out!”)

One thorough ass whipping and two cut scenes later, we are greeted by a gracious negress who offers her defeated foe some chapstick. The sharing of chapstick is an age old negress custom, and is known to be a gesture of friendship. The trailer trash, sensing a trap, un-wisely refuses.

And then the negress, who like all negresses, is very religious, offers amends to the negress gods by praying. As all negress prayers begin, she remarks of the demons in the world and their devilish ways. And then the following exchange takes place:

Negress: Lord, forgive me for beating this bitch ass today lord. And lord please forgive me for thinking about beating this bitch ass again, lord

Trailer Trash: Is that really necessary?

Negress: Girl, you better quit interrupting my prayers before god direct me to whip yo ass!

And ladies and gents, I ‘bout lost my mind. If that isn’t the funniest thing I have ever seen in my life. This is why I don’t date negresses, no matter how phat they are. They will whip your ass if you interrupt their prayer. That, and I don’t have a felony conviction.

But there was something worthwhile during the aftermath of the negress-trailer trash beat-down. The trailer trash, who was really upset, called the proud (and triumphant) negress “Ghetto trash”.

Ghetto trash.

Well, I think we have learned that in addition to 30 being the new 20 (thus 33 being the new 23), pink being the new black, and the blonde dude from Layer Cake being the new Bond, “ghetto” is now the new “nigger.” I’d also venture that “urban” is thus the new “negro,” and “inner city” is now the new “jiggaboo” (though I think Flave got Jiggaboo covered.)

Perhaps when that white dude beat that dude with the baseball bat while calling him “nigga,” it really wasn’t a hate crime. Shit, least he didn’t call him “ghetto.”

And perhaps Cynthia Mckinney, was indeed slurred when she was called common ghetto trash. (She lost by the way. During Philly Appreciation week no less. Connection? You decide.)

Thus, I think am going to go back to being “colored” (Color me Redd nigg…oops I mean ghetta – cause there is a difference between ghetta, and ghetto. Ghetto is a slur!) because it sounds like “gentrifying neighborhood with appreciating home values”. African American on the other hand? Well, that just sounds like “Hotel Rawanda” to me. (I don’t mess with Africa. Them niggas is starvin’ and that’s not ballin’ to me.)

The lesson learned? Don’t interrupt a negress while she is praying. That would make her god angry!

Philly Stand Up!