Don’t remove those chicken leg quarters out of the deep freezer to thaw out just yet, my beloved Bronx Bombers. According to reports, Remy Ma‘s release from prison has been delayed.
The former Terror Squad femme fatale was expected to be released from the Bedford Hills Correctional Facility for Women in New York this morning. Her husband Papoose, in addition to her manager and other members of her entourage (including a camera crew) eagerly waited on the scene for the 34-year-old to bring her home, but around noon prison officials put ice on Remy’s Welcome Home Sunset BBQ plans.
We all have that one friend.
They have access to our Netflix usernames and passwords, begin most general phrases with “I know this muthafuckin’ ain’t just”, has the ability to convert EBT swipes to cash without missing a beat, and always keeps a sandwich bag inside their Coogi purse for the sole intent of the unlawful transportation of Gummi Bears from the dessert buffet at Golden Corral.
We may walk 50 yards ahead of them during shopping excursions and hold conversations through messages on Facebook instead of commenting out in the open because we doubt if Luanne Schultz from human resources can fully appreciate their colorful musings on how a police road block tossed a monkey wrench in their scheduled trip to the weed man but we love, honor and obey them without ever raising question. Not out of fear. But out of respect for ourselves. Because really, who wants to wear the cloak of shame that is detailing a physical confrontation about a misunderstanding over ranch flavored sunflower seeds?
We tuck away our pride because we know that if shit were to ever pop off inside the bathroom at $2 Tuesdays they would be right there, Four Loko mimosa in hand, ready to stomp a mud hole in a bitch for us.
A true friendship that will span a lifetime. If you feel like calling in to work and staying home to watch ‘Beaches’ I fully understand.
Long before The Secret Squirrel Lady and Momma Dee reigned supreme on reality television, Ann Iverson was the opening act, the headliner and the after-party. If she is on AOL Instant Messenger her away message is without a doubt “Don’t come at me with no bullshit, use caution.” Word to DMX.
My friend, instead of getting yourself all worked up the next time you are confronted with comments you don’t agree with, fly above all the drama by responding with one very simple question: Did Tawanna tell you that?
This week, YouTube sensation Sweet Brown hit up Hot 97 to chat it up with Rosenberg and K. Foxx about the things she has time for, which don’t include the return of the McRib or abandoning her 27-piece quick weave hairstyle.
Quite the girl about town (because I don’t want to use the phrase “concrete jungle” for obvious reasons), SB also made a quick appearance on ‘Watch What Happens Live.’
Regardless of your personal assessment of Gucci Mane‘s contribution to the landscape of hip-hop, you’ve got to give him credit on one thing: There are few, if any, artists out there still talking big shit and taking names with absolutely no end to their gestation period in sight. Resiliency is a trait often ignored by many in our culture. Well, until somebody gets shot.
Gucci Mane: Body On Me