“America’s Best Booty” Needs Contestants
Posted by Dewan Gibson | Filed under Craigslist, Humor
This is a great opportunity that could potentially lead to an appearance on a VH-1 show that involves fighting, yelling while clapping one’s hands and obliterating the image of minority women–while being wildly entertaining (and that’s all that matters).
“We are only accepting women for consideration. Men, even if you have a little sexy ass like Prince, are not being considered. Also, cellulite and stretch marks ARE more than welcome. However, one’s crack should be fairly clean and not too hairy as the final four contestants will be asked to wear a thong.”
Whoever wrote this is an evil genius. I’m sure he’ll post pictures of the “contestants” as they arrive.
Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog
Pau Gasol & Ricky Rubio Share A Tender Embrace
Posted by Dewan Gibson | Filed under Humor, Sports
I guess they’re just reenacting the closing scene from Y Tu Mamá También. Magic Johnson and Isiah Thomas used to do this each time they played against each other, till Magic couldn’t stop coughing. Well, Kobe did tell Pau to go hard in the paint. Pau must have thought he said “get hard.” Pausa?
Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog
Shark Biter: Now Mitt Romney Tries To Sing At An Event
Posted by Dewan Gibson | Filed under Humor, Politics
We’ve seen President Obama croon classic Al Green. Now Mitt Romney, who’s all up on Obama’s nuts, tries to do the same at a nightclub for rich white folks over 60. And he sounds like the weak link in a barbershop quartet, the guy they keep in the group because he buys the outfits. But maybe I shouldn’t call him a biter, since President Obama copied his health plan first.
Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog
Dad Freestyles To Fetal Heart Monitor While In Delivery Room
Posted by Dewan Gibson | Filed under Humor, Why I Luv My People
I guess this is the antithesis of the Maury dance, and that’s a good thing. Ain’t nothing like black love, though I wouldn’t understand since I sold out last year. Now I don’t know what channel BET is on and no longer get invited to “Grown & Sexy” parties. Anyway, this guy can flow. “Dilated…cervix/What you doin’?/Servin…babies.” This is as good as the song Jay-Z made for Blue Ivy, but you can’t hear secret Illuminati chants when it’s played backwards.
Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog
President Obama Has A History Of Singing Baby-Making Songs
Posted by Dewan Gibson | Filed under Humor, Politics
Video of President Obama singing Al Green went viral today, but it turns out he’s been crooning in public since at least 2007. Let’s hope he’s not singing “It’s So Hard To Say Goodbye” come November. By the way, check out his black-cent before singing Dionne Warwick. Dude said “Earth, Wind and Fi-yah.” White folks, that’s how we talk in safe zones.
Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog
The Average Day Of A Stay-At-Home Dad Who Likes To Drink
Posted by Dewan Gibson | Filed under Babies, Humor
6am to 7am: Baby Nile awakes with a thunderous cry; he’s hungry. I run interference while his Mom gets ready for work, but my bony chest has nothing to offer. I figure he has enough fat reserves to last at least another hour so I say, “Man, I’m about to put you back in this crib and close the door.” Mom appears out of nowhere with a concerned look on her face and takes Nile. Oops.
7am to 8:40am: Nile has a doctor’s appointment at 9am. The hospital’s only two miles away, but my car has a flat (as it has for over a week). In determining if I can sleep until 8am I calculate the walk time in my head: Gold medal sprinter Usain Bolt can run 100 yards in about 9.5 seconds; there are over 3,500 yards in a mile, which means it would take him a little over five minutes to complete the two mile journey. I’m not a world-class sprinter, plus I’ll be walk-running with a stroller. But I am black so I figure I can make it in 20 minutes if I pretend the police are chasing me. We leave at 8:40am. We get there at 9:15am. Oops.
9:15am to 10:30am: We check in at the hospital. The nurse sees Nile’s transparent olive skin tone and blue eyes and asks if I’m the father. I think, “No…I’m just a nig*a who likes to bring other people’s babies to hospitals.” He gets three shots in his thick thighs and does the “Save me!” cry where he turns bright red and scrunches his face, but holds the audio for 3 to 5 seconds until it can reach a maximum decibel level. He extends his arms to me, apparently I’m forgiven for trying to abandon him in his crib just hours earlier.
10:30am to Noon: We start the uphill trek home. It’s January but easily 70 degrees in the sun. Nile’s knocked out in the stroller and I’m sweating like I just went 12 rounds with Nene Leakes. I can think only think of lunch. We get home, Nile’s stays asleep in his stroller. I heat some leftover pasta and wish a beer would somehow magically appear. It does not. All I have is orange juice and water. And spiced rum. My goal for the month is to have no hangovers, so I’m hesitant to drink the rum. But then it hits me: If I drink more during the day and less during the night I’m less likely to have a morning hangover. I pour the rum into my glass of orange juice. Not bad. The second one is even better.
Noon to 4pm: Nile and I play a game I like to call “Prince.” We take turns seeing who can do the loudest high-pitched scream. After that he does calisthenics (crawling, assisted situps) and chews on the couch. I give him real food, rice cereal with a touch of titty milk. Then we watch “Syriana” on Netflix as I give him a 15 minute back rub so he can moan himself to sleep. He wakes for more food, but is soon back to sleep after being hypnotized while staring at the carpet’s design.
4pm to 7pm: Mom gets home and I start my paid work so Nile can have a home and one day attend community college. I text a tenant who’s renting a condo in the hood from me. “Happy Monday. Rent was due last week.” I then leave to meet a guy who’s tech company I’m writing for. We were to meet at a Starbucks downtown, but he wants to go elsewhere after arriving early and seeing a guy seated next to the only open outdoor table shoot heroin (real talk, as the cool kids say). So our meeting turns into happy hour. Three beers later we have an agreement for our next project.
7pm to 8pm: On the way home I ask Mom/my woman/domestic partner if we have anything for dinner. She answers, “Baby food and spinach.” I go to the grocery store and buy chicken gizzards, ahi tuna, sprouts and a bottle of wine. (All for less than $20!) Mom says hell no to the gizzards so I prepare our other options. It’s also Nile’s peak time so he’s anxious to show us the new things he’s learned: the fake cough and the 1.5 leg, ass in the air crawl. We watch and try to minimize the number of times he falls on his head. We fail as parents and he ends up with a small shiner above his eye. But he’s alright and the temporary red mark gives his face a little more character.
8pm to Midnight: The Bachelor is on TV so to make it through two hours of the least diverse show on television I finish the bottle of wine while also speeding through my 50 or so favorite websites. Afterwards the family goes to sleep. I planned to stay up until 2am to blog, calculate my meager 2011 book sales and online ad revenue, and sees who’s bitten on my eBay sales; but as usual the wine knocks me out as only it and the act that created Nile can do.
7am: Sh*t, I wake up with a hangover.
Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog
Thousands Celebrate International No Pants Day
Posted by Dewan Gibson | Filed under Humor, News
International No Pants Day was held Sunday with over 16,000 people in 27 countries participating. It’s a recently created holiday and as you see in the video celebrated by very few black people, which makes it like Kwanzaa, though I assume its creator doesn’t have a history of torturing women like Ron Karenga. There’s no point to the “holiday” outside of giving people an excuse to show man-print and cameltoe on the subway while shocking others. But the question remains, “Where are the thongs?” (No Sisqo).
Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog
Dennis Rodman Starts Topless Basketball Team
Posted by Dewan Gibson | Filed under Humor, Sports
I’m all for gender equality, especially in sports, which is one of the reasons I pursued a part-time job as assistant volleyball coach/locker room attendant at Sweet Valley High. I’ve also supported the WNBA (see, I’m pro-lesbian too) and the Lingerie Basketball League. Now I’m fully in support of Dennis Rodman’s attempt to form a topless basketball team. “The Worm,” as he was nicknamed after performing the johnson-in-the-popcorn-box-while-watching-a-movie-with-your-homeboys trick, is holding tryouts for a topless team that will compete against other teams formed at strip clubs. Making the team takes a lot of natural talent; you need to be at least 5-foot-10 and have a bust size comparable to the vertical leap of the NBA’s best dunkers. If you’re interested in trying out and regressing the women’s right movement, tweet The Worm, @dennisrodman.
Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog
Sweet Baby Jesus! Priests Riot & Brawl In Church
Posted by Dewan Gibson | Filed under Humor
Hundreds of priests from different sects (or should we say “sets?”) riot in Jesus’ old stomping grounds of Bethlehem. The fight was over “areas of authority within the church,” which is really just a fancy way of saying turf. Obviously the turf isn’t used to slang rocks, but the priests do use it to sell an inside track to Jesus for just 10 percent of your annual income. If this sort of behavior continues I’ll imagine we’ll see a fight on pay-per-view when it’s time to select another pope.
Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog
Husband Refused To Beat It Up, Wife Beat Him Up
Posted by Dewan Gibson | Filed under Humor, News
Women tend to really want sex when they’re drunk or on Rohypnol. But some take it too far, as is the case with an Ohio woman who beat her husband for not giving in to her sexual demands. After Harold and Vera Baaske returned home from a bar Vera said, “Come down here in the basement and smang this kitty!” Or something like that. Harold refused so she jumped atop him and began scratching and spitting on him. That’s hot. But not to Harold, who called police and had Vera jailed. I imagine some people would call this an instance of domestic violence; I say it’s gender equality.
Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog
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