I'm So Excited

Yeah, I heard The Pointer Sisters discovered oil in them thar Jheri Curls.

Meet Judy

The celebration of negrocity continues with this doll I found in New Jersey. Her name is Judy. I think she could be the next Chucky, but I doubt Hollywood would ever give a black girl like this a chance, unless Tyler Perry were involved.

She even comes with a catch phrase that could easily be horrorfied on some creepy kiddie voice like 1,2, Freddy's coming for you, right?

I'm going to write a treatment. Don't sleep.

More Holiday Treats

Meet dreamboy. He comes equipped with light eyes like Gary Dourdan, T-rex arms like John McCain, and got "The Glow" like Bruce Leroy. Paired with his competitive fashion sense and the dry wit required to pose with so little irony next to well written copy....well mama, I just knew he was the one for me.

Begs The Question

Once again, Black History Month is almost over, so I decided I mustn't procrastinate any further in getting this picture up. I found this book in a 99 cent store up in Washington Heights.

I walked around the store puzzled, investigated further and found the answer

Even Bobby & Whitney, who doody bubbled me into believing in theirs, got none left. Memories...

White Flight

I'm not usually an instigator, but I've been known to roll with a few. I remember this one time I was hanging out and walking around the Columbus Circle/Lincoln Center area of Manhattan with a bunch of kids that I'd gone to summer camp with. The second session kids came through in numbers. I ought to tell you that they were mostly black. This one particular kid had an EPMD tape in his quote unquote ghetto blaster and really got a kick out of blasting the intro of the song "Head Banger" repeatedly. I'm going to assume you don't know what that sounds like, so imagine this guy yelling NEGROOOOOOOOES!!!!! over and over and over and over. It was one of those jokes that went on too long, and I was kind of afraid I was going to run into one of my neighbors or something. But after 5 minutes of this, the non-black kids joined in, the old ladies were nearly breaking their osteo-arthritic bones to get away from us and I was laughing so hard I thought I was gonna pee my pants.

That's just another rambling introduction to this video that features uppity white people vomiting in their mouths a little bit at the thought of a 99 cent store opening on Rodeo Drive.



You can run, but you can't hide. Much like Gloria Estefan warned us about the rhythm, the discount is gonna get'cha.

Fereshte Direct

My Fereshte

It started here. My Persian friend was on a family trip to the Grand Canyon, and on the advice of his Persian mother, bought a statuette of a little black angel in pajamas as a souvenir for me. That was kind of weird because I'd met the woman once. But I'm kinda weird, and I dug it big time. I like to know that I am in people's black thoughts (but do not confuse me with the guy from The Roots). Then I saw the movie Crash, and you know that scene where the Persian store owner guy busts a cap at the little hispanic girl and she doesn't die because the gun was loaded with blanks, and he breaks down all weepy like a bitch and calls her his fereshte? Well, that was the most hilarious scene in that rediculous movie and Fereshte means angel in Farsi. So, I named her that. In this Lomo Pop 9 photo, My Fereshte is perched inside my medicine cabinet, next to a box of "tattoo" band-aids purchased at a 99¢ Only Stores. She has since been injured in a cross-country move, and cannot be repaired with the simple peel and stick of a tattoo bandaid, but I will fix her soon. Especially because she might get some new friends, and I don't want her to have a handicapped deformity-inferiority complex. She's my alpha statuette.

In general I like photographs of toys, dolls and statuettes. They are cute, fantastic and creepy. Brooklyn's Dollar Dream and Jersey City's 99¢ Super Store (more on this place in a future post) supplied some stellar additions to my fancy. I am seriously considering starting a collection of statuettes. Like I need more junk. This post is way too about me, so let's cut the crap and get to sensin.

This is Heidi Klum's new baby Johan cuz the way he's propped up, his daddy must be a Seal.

This is adorable, and looks a lot like me as a baby. They really broke the mold with me, and like Missy Elliot says "my style can not be duplicated or recycled. This chick is a sick individual"
Narcisissm. Bite it.

Oprah's Angel Network

I feel like this is a scene from the aftermath of the Asian Tsunami. Babies floating on giant Papaya boats trying to eat, and survive drowning at the same time. Survival's a bitch.

One more baby and this would have been a hit TLC song.

Future video ho. She has been influenced by rap music at a very tender age, and is attempting to get her eagle on.

That Anne Geddes shit is mad corny.

Perez Hilton has nothing on me. Zahara Jolie and David Banda pose for their first photshoot for Bono's One campaign. 99 SENSE EXCLUSIVE!!!

Afro-lesbian wedding cake toppers. No lie. (Slight lesbo-exaggeration)

White babies are the new Guatemalan maids.
Whoever had the brilliant idea of sculpting a white baby plunging a toilet ought to be my best friend. And you know it ain't her log clog cuz the kid doesn't even use the toilet, she's still in diapers!

At some point, Jesus is going to become more than a role model for Christians, but for the Pro-Ana movement. It's inevitable.

Every statuette aisle has a red-light district for pedophiles and their little baby whores.
Seriously, what's up with that? If you look closely, they even have ass-crackletoe.

It's Oprah as Miss Sophia in the Color Purple: The Musical, and her little Gayle doll.

We just need one more with a microphone and we can package the three up, and sell them on BETQVC as the black american dream trio.

I swear I didn't put that little boy on the dog. But whoever did, thank you.

Black Hair Is

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

You've Come A Long Way, Babe

So I've been hitting up discount stores for quite some time, buying odd items, and displaying them where I live. Today, we take a look into my past. While checking the medicine cabinet in my parents house this evening, I discovered they too were still holding on to a piece of my 99 Sense that I have also taken along with me to each of homes since I've flown the coop. When I find something this good, I buy multiples (cuz shit, it was only 99 cents!) This fantastic item was purchased in 2002 in a 99 cent store on Chambers St. in Manhattan. I saw it, choked on the Dr. Pepper I was sipping, which led to spasms which almost made me completely vomit up the delicious Popeye's Fried Chicken I'd just eaten down the block.

Yes Vivica, at last.

I love every fucking thing about this.
I looked for other Ebon-aide shades, but the store only had Honey.

Color-match? Fuck yeah. It's like painting a house.
I was going to ask how, ask now, ask Sherwin-Williams, but black people don't hyphenate their last names, so I should have known that wouldn't work.

Some very thorough documentation on my part. I'm treating this like a miracle.

This is stripped down.
The swimsuit portion of my imaginary awesome product pageant

The money shot.
After all the hype, Honey was just another high-yella band-aid.
I think Mocha would have been my shade.

Check out Ebon-Aide.com to find your shade of outer blackness.