Smooth Sunday Sounds

Teddy.


His lyrics go down like an icy cold glass of Chardonnay.


Velvety smooth.


His music is subtly sensual, but not graphically sexual.


What's a quiet storm without the thunder that Teddy's tunes bring down?

I Ain't Feelin' Her Right Now!

I had alot of respect for her.
She can sing AND tickle the keys.
AT THE SAME TIME.
Her lyrics are movin' and upliftin'.
Plus, the fact that she is drop dead GAWJUS sho' doesn't hurt her none.



I feel like Alicia is before her time in terms of her sound.
Like she has an old soul.
She ain't singin' 'bout nobody droppin' they booty to da floor and makin' it quake.
When she comes out on stage to perform, you can't see if she has nipple rings or see her Tampax string danglin' from between her thighs.
The girl's style screams class.
Grace.
Respect.



Don't get me wrong.
She's still as pretty as a picture.
Can still tear a piano up.
It's her sense of MORALITY (or lack thereof) that's got my bikinis in a bunch.
Y'all already know what I'm talkin' bout.
Her and Swizz Tweets.
Oh my fault.
But doesn't he look strangely like some exotic bird species that you might find in the bushes of the Bahamas?
Let's face it.
Swizz had a wife.
A family.



Before this all went down, Swizz and Alicia had been workin' very closely together.
I get that.
But when she felt like her feelings were movin' out of the friends' zone and into the "please throw me down on the soundboard and sex me till my knees cramp up" zone she had a chance to check herself AND him.
Obviously, she didn't.
Can you imagine how Mashonda must have felt?
That's right.
Like a thong wedged in between the butt cheeks of a 450 lb woman.
Deserted AND betrayed.
I gotta say though.
Shonda handled it like a true champ.


I'm sure Alicia had plenty of dudes who would've given up they playa' status just for the CHANCE to even clean her toilet bowl.
What was wrong with gettin' with a man who was SINGLE??!!
Forgive me.
But I have zero tolerance for these type of home wreckin' shenanigans.
I mean, they didn't just have some torrid, passionate one year affair.
Alicia got knocked up.
That was heartbreakin'.
They didn't just elope and go runnin' off to a justice of the peace or even let Elvis marry them in Vegas.
These peeps had an elaborate Nefertiti-Nile River-Egyptian type themed wedding.



As a woman, I felt this one.
To me, this was a like givin' a woman a bitch slap wearin' brass knuckles.
HELLA PAINFUL.
In the wise words of Grant M. Bright:
"You reap what you sow. Life is like a boomerang. Our thoughts, deeds, and words return to us sooner or later with astounding accuracy."




Alicia gurl, let's take a quiz.
Here's my first question to you:

Friday's Femme Fatale

Soulful.
Sensual.
Smooth.
Sassy.
Jill Scott.
All the way REAL.
All the way LIVE.



Even though she works in the land of Hollywhore ('scuse me I meant Hollywood), I've never heard about her:
*Havin' sex tapes floatin' around on the net
*Messin' 'round with somebody else's man or husband
*Havin' someone conveniently "leak" nekkid or revealin' pics of her layin' on her bed with her finger stuck in her nether regions
Now, don't get me wrong.
I ain't sayin' that she isn't participatin' in any of these asinine activities.
She's just classy enough that we never really HEAR too much about her private life.



Her music isn't a bunch of feel good beats with mindless flow and lyrics.
It has substance.
Musically meaty.
She talks about topics and issues that I as a woman can relate to.
She ain't talkin 'bout sexin' a man out of all dey dough.
Not singin' 'bout goin' shoppin' with her gurls at stores where they ain't even HIRIN' black women let alone shoppin' there.
Nah.
Ms. Scott is on a whole 'nother level.



I'm not sayin' her music is rated PG.
She keeps it gully... but just in a sophisticated kind of way.
If you listen to some of the words in her songs, you can tell that Jill is probably a freak-a-leek.
Good for her.
Here's an example.
These are some the verses to one of her tunes called "Epiphany:"

Watching,
Watching as he took the holder off his shoulder
Fire in his eyes, hands gettin' bolder
...dug him for his bank account but really for his private
Damn about a mindset
Really wasn't into that
Needed me some pleasin' his jawn lookin' real fat
Started simple
Massaging on my temple
Pinching on my....

Honey, this girl puts sex in spoken word like I ain't neva heard before!
If you like those lyrics, this song can be found on this cd:

This Chick Needs Some Help!!

Don't get it twisted.
I support my sistas, mmkay?
I don't make a practice of drinkin' tall, frosty glasses of Haterade.
I just tells it like I sees it.
Now,what I'm about to say may indeed get me some mean mugs and maybe even some smackin' and poppin' of the lips.
But I'm prepared cuz what I'm about to preach is GOSPEL.



Lisa Raye.
Beautiful?
Of course she is...no Stevie Wonder here.
But let's be real.
Her actin' skills are as stank as orangutan poop roasted over an open fire.
No matter what role she plays, she always plays it the SAME WAY.
HORRENDOUSLY HOOD.



Is it any wonder that most movies she ends up in look like a film student's homework project?
Ya know the ones.
The actors have like 5 minute pauses between each line.
Hairstyles lookin' like they came straight from the pages of Homemade Hoochie Hair.
The actin' styles are seriously overdone like Golden Corral's meatloaf.
Are you thinkin' that I have no appreciation for the various riveting roles that Lisa plays?
Haha.
Then check out this sad sack of shiznit:




If you don't want to see Clifton Powell's hershey squirt skid marks in his tidy whitey's, I wouldn't watch this one.
Nah. I'm serious.
Or how about this one:



WOW.
I haven't even seen this one in the $5.00 bin at Wally World.
See what I'm sayin?
She's got high class looks with low budget skills.
Somehow she wormed her way onto VH1's Single Ladies.







This is just my opinion as humble as it may be, but perhaps she should just stick to modelin'.


At least that way she doesn't have to open her mouth.

Movin' On...

With each passing day I've come to realize a fundamental truth.
LIFE CHANGES.
Yes indeed.
I remember my first taste of what REAL freedom felt like.
Graduation Day baby!
Glidin' and slidin' down that aisle while the tassle on my cap kept whippin' and wavin' in my face.
My parents plottin' and plannin' how they was gonna "rechristen" all the rooms in the house once they child done finally hit the bricks.
Ok. Wait. (Needle scratchin' on the record).
Never mind. That visual almost made last night's din din resurface.
Anywhooters, I had everything all mapped out.




College.
Grad school.
PhD.
Marriage.
Open up my own marriage counseling practice.




I actually did get to college.
Partied a lil' bit. Studied more though.
Yes, I am a certfied geek (but a COOL one).
Enlightening experience.
Studied there for 2.5 years until...




Dropped out of school.
Moved me and my wee lil' one down to the home of gators and orange trees.
Lived with my boyfriend/baby daddy/buttwipe.
One year later.



Are you sick of me yet?
I dang sure am!!
Mom and Dad decided to call it quits.
She loads up the Lincoln and we move on down to the land of the two step and rodeos.
Welp. It's been 15 years.
I've endured 3 MORE young ones, several dead end jobs AND a marriage spurned from the boughs of HELL.
But I'm still here. With most of my sanity in tact.
I've since divorced and am engaged to wonderful man who embraces my weaknesses and doesn't EXPLOIT them.
My children and I are pilin' up the movin' truck and beatin' feet to the land of sunny skies and endless beaches.



Guess what?
Once I get to my destination, I'm goin' back to finish my education and become that counselor that I always dreamed about.
Am I scared?
Shakin' like a crack fiend tryin' to go cold turkey.
But ya know, I've decided to allow my fear to motivate me in the right direction.
No more lookin' back.
Full steam ahead.

Smooth Sunday Sounds

I live in the land of cowboys, beef brisket and beans.
The main music choice around these parts is the likes of Faith Hill & Tim McGraw.
Forgive me for my bluntness, but..country music makes me want to do a flyin' leap off the Statue of Liberty.
With no parachute.
What I need is the soothing sounds of an alto sax mixin' and minglin' with the melodies of a electric guitar.
Mmmhmm.





My Perfect Recipe for Sunday Sounds:

• Two Tablespoons of Fourplay


• A couple cups of George Benson


• Mix well with Jazzmasters and Pieces of a Dream


• Sit back, relax and allow these sounds to musically marinate and permeate your senses!

Here's my Sunday Sound pick for today:

Friday's Femme Fatale

They don't make 'em quite like this no mo'. Yes suh! Pam Grier was...THAT. WOMAN. Badly behaved. But she had reason to be.
They killed her man.
One time some thugs tried to take over her daddy's business. Y'all know Pam wasn't goin' for dat!!
She fought for truth.
Justice.
Who else you know that could wear a slinky and sexy dress, wield a double barreled shotgun, AND throw some karate kicks that would make even Bruce Lee envious?
Ya betta' know it!!
My girl Pam.



For all my blaxplotation buds out here in Blogsville, tonight startin' at 8, you can catch Pam packin' a powerful punch in:
Sheba Baby
Coffy
AND...
Foxy Brown!!!

So jump in ya jammies, pop some kettle corn, grab a glass goblet of grape Kool-Aid, and tune into TV-One!!
If for some reason, ya can't tune in at that time, then DVR IT!!