DISCLAIMER: This is simply a list of my favorite albums, not albums I feel you should agree are the best. If you want to debate the merits of someone’s personal song choices, go here, and be prepared to do some babysitting.
10. CHRISTINA AGUILERA: Stripped Love her, hate her, the broad has chops. I was plenty surprised by this CD as were lots of people I know. Many of us slept on her, but all I needed to hear was her rendition of “Run to You” on the First Annual BET Awards during the tribute to Whitney Houston. On this CD, she gives you a little hip-hop, some power ballads, pop/rock, and soul in a wonderfully arranged and well thought-out collection. What impressed me the most with this CD wasn’t just her vocal range, it was the range of people willing to work with her. Scott Storch, ?uestlove, Rockwilda, Alicia Keys and Linda Perry all leant their hands in helping Christina break out of the pop mold. NOTABLE TRACKS: “Walk Away” & “Make Over”.
My 10 Favorite Albums
See What Had Happened Was …
This might be quite the lengthy post. I expected to simply recount certain events that went down while I was in Atlanta, but it just so happens that there is a thread between what happened there and what just happened at home. I’ll try to be as brief and to the point as possible, but there are several things that I need to cover right now.
Remember when nOva used to get sloshed and spill the hellified cookies at house parties? Well, two particular queens have stolen that thunder and I cannot even say I’m mad.
Picture it. Atlanta. The D.I.C. New Year’s Party. You know how I am and you know how he is. People already had preconceived notions of how things would go down at this party with the two of us present, including myself, The Slim One. Long story short, we both got drunk. He was social drunk, the man of the hour, and I was chatty, pathetic drunk. He met an interesting character and established a rapport while I remained the poor man’s Joan Rivers (ain’t Joan Rivers the poor man’s Joan Rivers?). My melody that night went a little something like this:
What You Won’t Get Here
This is a bit premature, but I just wanted to wish everyone a Happy New Year while I’m sober here at the D.I.C. Trust me, I won’t want to do it tomorrow. So, yeah, like H.N.Y. and stuff!
One thing I will not be doing is reflecting on all the B.S. I encountered this year, or wishing everyone a sappy prosperous New Year. Have a happy new year. Not because I mean it, God knows I don’t want anyone other than myself to be happy, but it just sounds good. I will not encourage you to go for that gold this year. I don’t care if you get that promotion, that new home, or that engagement ring. You see, I want to be happy and prosperous and shit this year. I think it’s my turn, ya know? So whether not you are in a better place in 2004, I could give a rat’s ass unless it directly benefits me. We don’t do corny ’round these parts, trick, iz you smokin’?
For me, the wishes and reflection are bullshit, because you and I both know this is the way we should be thinking every day of the year. Why use January 1st as an excuse? Why do we resolve to quit smoking, pay off our credit and lose weight on this day? Why wait? Society tells us that the beginning of the year means a fresh start, but that’s just not true. And no, this is not one of my anti-tradition rants, I am just encouragiing people to be true to themselves and look inside. There is nothing stopping us from trying to improve who we are any other day of the year. You dig? Think about that, and resolve to be the fattest, smokingest, most in-debt son-of-a-bitch you can be. Resolve to be lazy and trifling. Make a promise to yourself that you will go an entire three weeks without wiping your shitty ass. Why? Because, whenever you make a New Year’s Resolution, chances are you’re lying any damn way, so why not resolve to be just as fucked up as we usually are? You know what we at nOvaSlim.com have to say to that kind of pomp and foolishness:
CHILE CHEEESE!
And now some additional holiday cheer from fellow blogger and realest Karsh of blackgayblogger.com.
2003 was a muthafucka. Say it with me. A muthafucka. But by the time you read this, it’ll be over, and you’ll have an arm’s length list of resolutions, and the local gyms and drugstores will be rubbing their hands together in greedy delight over your sudden burst of self-improvement.
Ain’t it grand?
If you ask me, this whole “being real” thing is a double-edged sword with most people. Isn’t being real meaning that you see the good and the bad, the thick and the thin, the ketchup and the mustard? Yeah, I’ve read Essence and some shit by Dr. Phil. But I also delve into a little self-deprecation every now and again. Isn’t being real being able to laugh at yourself? To recognize your faults and now that — hey, life ain’t gon’ revolve around every Tom, Dick and Tyrone and to hell with them if they think it will?
I’ve got a co-worker who has decided to wait to stop smoking until July. Why? Quoth her, “Because the patches will be too expensive in January, there’s too much candy in February, and everyone will be on outside patios at restaurants smoking until it’s too hot to want the extra heat.” Being a pessimist? Nah. Being real? Definitely. You wanna know why these things are called resolutions? Break it up, kiddies — re + solutions. Meaning the solution’s there, but it didn’t get done the first time. And isn’t the definition of insanity doing the same thing and expecting different results?
So twenty zero three is done and gone. Good riddance to thee. Sure, we’ll remember it, but we won’t live in the past. We’ll know that wishing and doing are just as natural to our complex little selves as bitching and moaning. And once we all realize that, our lives on this little blue orb will be a whole lot more enjoyable. 2004, bring it on bitch!
Thank you, Karsh.
So, again, I’d like to wish all of you a Happy New Year, and by “happy” I mean gay, like grab the new year by the nuts, hard, and show him who’s boss, girls!
SHAMELESS PLUG: “The Big Rocka Awards” at Rocka’s World.
Here I Am
Welcome to Atlanta, jackin hammers and vogues
Back to the mackin and jackin the clothes, adolescent packin a fo’
A knock on the do’, who is it? I would happen to know
The one with the flow – who did it?, it was me I suppose…
- Ludacris & JD
SOMEONE thought it would be a good idea to post an entry announcing that I was here so that’s what I’m doing. I’m here in Atlanta. The first day was fabulous, I got to meet everyone I was looking forward to meeting, so my links page has many stars now.
Just letting you all know I had a safe flight and made it here on time. I will be keeping you abreast of all the action here, if EJ and Prime don’t beat me to the punch.
One.
#483D8B |
Your dominant hue is blue, making you a good friend who people love and trust. You’re good in social situations and want to fit in. Just be careful not to compromise who you are to make them happy. Your saturation level is medium – You’re not the most decisive go-getter, but you can get a job done when it’s required of you. You probably don’t think the world can change for you and don’t want to spend too much effort trying to force it. Your outlook on life can be bright or dark, depending on the situation. You are flexible and see things objectively. |
Air-nOva
I. am. so. fucking. tired. My plane leaves for Atlanta tomorrow and I waited until today to start packing. Dumb dumb dumb. I hate packing and I hate going to the airport. There should be a way for me to just beam into Georgia. The worst thing is packing shoes, and even worse than that is that unlike Cali, I cannot pack a bunch of short stuff (space-savers). And even worse than that is I have to carry my own luggage! Yeah, I know, I’m a premiere type bitch. Travelling is too much, too too much.
However, I did manage to use my MixMeister to make a fly-ass lil’ “Gettin’ My Black Ass on a Plane” mix (see graphic), so that might make it fun, right? Right? When I’m tired (through), I ramble.
Anyhoo, I’ll be heading out tomorrow. Wish me safe flight and all that yadda. Gon’ to meet the ATL bloggers. This should be interestin’…
One.