June 29, 2007

Funniest Fall You’ve Ever Seen

I got to talking to my man Clarence today, and he told me about seeing someone fall the other night that sounded like a Grade A, 5-star fall.

Got me thinking to the funnest falls I’ve seen.  I think I’ll rattle off my top 3.  Two of them were witnessed in TV, but I think they still count.

3.  My first year of grad school, I was minding my own business in a game theory class.  Our professor, who was a tad weird, was trying to navigate through a room where the tables were aligned around the room, leaving very little space to walk by the board but in front of the chairs.

Dude tried to make a turn around a tight corner.  I don’t know what he tripped over, but next thing I knew, he was heading forward.  Then, he began to balance himself by swinging his arms.  It worked…too well.  Next thing you know, buddy’s about to fall on his ass.  That’s better than falling on your face, though.  Then, out of the blue, he was back upright, writing greek letters on the board.

I was so torn, though.  I laugh when people fall.  That’s the rule.  But what about when it’s the professor…and the rest of the room–save for a gentleman named Kirk–isn’t wired to laugh?  Me and Kirk sat there fighting it so hard.  I laugh now thinking about it, just because I got cheated out of it then.

(Actually, there are way better ones than this…but they’re so hard to keep straight.  All that laughter’s bad for the memory.)

2.  Michelle Williams from Destiny’s Child on “106 and Park.”

Destiny’s Child’s just walking.  Minding their own business.  Then Michelle’s gone.  Disappeared.  Fell so fast that you’d think she was beamed up to the Enterprise.  Whoooo, that was funny.

And metaphorical.  Michelle’s way extra in that group.  Everyone knows it.  So when Beyonce and Kelly kept it going like nothing ever happened–which performers are supposed to do–it didn’t seem like them doing their jobs.  It felt like what we know they said every day–we don’t need this chick.

1.  I bet you can guess.

First time I saw this, I was in my bedroom.  I’d fallen asleep with the TV on.  Before i went to sleep, my brother told me of this fall.  I did not, however, expect to see at 2 in the morning when I just opened my eyes long enough to turn the TV off.  There it was–Bob Dole falling off a stage.  I laughed myself back to sleep.

June 27, 2007

Guess What’s Always Funny?

So I was at the Jamaican joint picking up a couple of patties and some coco bread.  Pineapple soda, too.  Gotta have the pineapple soda.

Anyway, I’m just minding my own business when I see a kid, probably about six years old, wearing some of those shoes with the wheel on the bottom.  It’s enough when kids are figuratively hell on wheels, but why do something to add to the realism of an idiom?  When they say something stupid, are you going to literally put their feet in their mouths?

Anyway, kid’s cruising.  Got up some speend and glided toward the cash register.  I’m not exactly sure what happened next, but I know it ended with that little girl taking a quick tumble to the turf.  I mean went straight to the ground like someone rolled a ball against the wall or something.
And let me say this now, because I know what many of you are thinking but are conflicted about saying out loud–it was the funniest thing I’ve seen this week.

I mean, she wasn’t really hurt.  Just took a lick.  But man, you had to see the aerodynamics of the fall.  Classic material.

I wrote this post to say this and this only–falling down is always funny, short of really serious injury.  But if you don’t have to go under the knife for it, I’m gonna laugh.

Will you?

June 26, 2007

I Have Questions

1.  How long do people take before they set a wedding date?  I ask this question because I’ve been asked repeatedly if we’ve set a date.  We’ve been engaged all of 12 days.  People were asking this the morning after I proposed.  Do people really set dates that soon?  Or is there just no other question to ask at that point?  Hope that doesn’t sound too snide, but I’m a wee bit confused.

2.  Did we sell Idlewild’s soundtrack short?  I listened to a lot of it this morning, and it’s way better than I initially remembered.  In fairness, I didn’t listen to many of the Dre tracks, so it may just be as average as I thought.  Then again, it could be like U2’s Pop, which isn’t nearly as bad as people would have you believe.

3.  Anyone else heard this T.I. vs. T.I.P.?  I’m feeling it.  Not as strong as King.  Not as captivating as Trap Muzik, and not quite as interesting as I thought the concept would lend itself to be.  All the same, I dig it.  “Big Shit Poppin” goes hard hard hard, it should be said.

4.  How do you feel about Amy Winehouse?  Listened to her record.  Like it.  Love it?  No.  Like it.

5.   Anybody know what’s poppin in NY for the 4th?

June 22, 2007

An Important Issue of Great Social Import

Does anyone know where I can get arms like Mr. Fantastic?  I imagine they’d be awfully helpful about right now.

June 21, 2007

An Apology

In the A.M. Jump I did last week–btw, here’s today’s–I mentioned the following in the “Not In This Issue” section.

“Hendrick Jr. joins DEI,” a quick play on words referring to Dale Earnhardt Jr.’s move to Hendrick Motorsports.

Well, while perusing the comments from that Jump–which I normally don’t do, since I’m not used to the comments being there–it was brought to my attention that Rick Hendrick’s son was killed in a plane crash.  A few readers took my line as being in poor taste.

That was not the case.  It was simply a matter of ignorance.  I had no idea any such thing happened, and I profusely apologize to anyone that was offended, particularly the Hendrick family.  I can assure you, however, that I wasn’t trying to make light of someone dying.  Not my steez, nor will it ever be.

June 19, 2007

You Know What Today Is…

Juneteenth!  Somebody pass me some brisket!

June 18, 2007

Spooky Spooky Spooky

Now, I don’t scare easy.  You should know that.

However, I find it necessary to mention that there’s very little as scary as a white haired woman driving a Buick while wearing those huge wraparound shades.  You know, the ones that don’t let any light in.  You know, the ones that scream out “my eyes are so bad that I should live my life in a basement cuz the sun makes my eyes hurt and everything look white like I’m about to die!”

Saw that a second ago on the way back from the UPS Store.  I didn’t like that one bit.

June 13, 2007

Don’t Trust a Man with Funky Breath

This just won’t stop being funny.

But the best part, to me, is not the gay bomb.  The gay bomb is just sad.  But this here is funny.

Another idea was to develop a chemical causing “severe and lasting halitosis”, so that enemy forces would be obvious even when they tried to blend in with civilians.

In a variation on that idea, researchers pondered a “Who? Me?” bomb, which would simulate flatulence in enemy ranks.

Indeed, a “Who? Me?” device had been under consideration since 1945, the government papers say.

However, researchers concluded that the premise for such a device was fatally flawed because “people in many areas of the world do not find faecal odour offensive, since they smell it on a regular basis”.

You know the BBC couldn’t wait to publish this one.

June 12, 2007

Post Your Jheri Curl Story Here

So I’m sitting here thinking about Jheri curls. They’re funny.  I love nothing more than to go to someone’s house and see a curl picture.  Great stuff.
Well, everyone I know has a curl story. Some of us–like ME!!!–have other people’s stories, but they’re so funny that we tell them ourselves. In that spirit, I will tell a friend’s Jheri curl story.

(Given the randomness of the post, I find it necessary to assure you that I’m sober.)

My boy–a reader of his site who has to make sure I get this correct–got him a curl when he was about 8. He was lovin’ it. Said his curl was so fresh. In fact, I can picture him as a chubby li’l fella with a curl.

Anyway, said he got the curl, but then he went to swim in the pool. I’m assuming it was the black pool, for the white pool would never let you in with a curl. Gettin’ the water all greasy and thangs (and I’m not sure if all of you are from places with black and white pools, but those who are know exactly what i’m talking about).

Well, my man said he started walking home and didn’t have a care in the world. Until he got in the mirror, that is. His curl had turnt orange.

Most likely, it turnt ernge.

June 11, 2007

Finally, Frankie…and something else

So, the post I wanted to do Saturday, before I got carried away.

Saw Mint Condition and Maze on Friday. Mint didn’t put on a great show. I saw them do a better one in a hotel ballroom in 2000, but they weren’t bad. Plus, it was hot as Hades. I can’t knock ‘em for mailing it in a bit.

Maze, as expected, ripped it. It was about the same show as we saw in Atlanta, but it was dope. Special props to the guitar player, who ripped the solo on “Golden Time of Day” while hunting the front few rows for post-show Stellas. Good job he did.

Now, Frankie’s got that charisma. And, as is typically the case at R&B concerts, the large women were the ones having the best time. By the end of the show, folks had come from the lawn to the front row (we were on the second row). About 60 percent of them were women over size 16.

They came, and they danced. They came and they screamed Frankie!!! in a voice approaching a shrill. They blocked the aisle, which was surely a fire hazard. They got their money’s worth.

More accurately, they got my money’s worth. Them seats me and my fiancee had were more expensive. They were cutting into our dancing room, as my man Mark noted.

So then the show ended. Frankie, who was sweating like a greatly underpaid laborer, wiped his face with a white towel and threw it in the front row.

This woman in the front row caught the towel. If you click on it, you can see the towel in her hand, right next to what appears to be some bottled Bacardi concoction.  On her body is some combination of jungle floral something and what appears to be cheetah print.  If not cheetah, then some other animal that could both outrun and maul you.
Now, she didn’t just catch the towel. She pushed people to get that towel, even though it was thrown right at her. She pushed a dude, who then fell into my fiancee. And I promise, he threw it right at her. I saw the towel fly. Next thing I knew, my lady was stumbling.

That ain’t right.

Now, here’s my question–why is it that big black women have more fun at concerts than anyone else? This ain’t the first time I’ve seen this. If somebody’s singing, big black women are loving it. Whoever’s singing is singing to them. And don’t let it be a big singer. Luther, Gerald, Barry…the big women love them.

Why is that? What does it for them? Or, if it applies, you?

I mean, they rushed the stage for “Before I Let Go.” They were in force, man. And, like I said, shawty knocked a grown man down. All for a sweaty towel.

So, can someone explain why they have so much more fun than everyone else?