RIP: My Wife and Kids

Wassup, Y'all!

First the good news - no mention of Dave Chappelle this go round, y'all so you can breath a sigh of relief :-). The bad news is ABC has decided to cancel one of the few black shows that managed to escape the urban ghetto of UPN - My Wife and Kids. Granted based on the writing it probably should have been canceled loooong before now, but just like reading FHM or Maxim magazine strictly for the models (yes, that is trifling), I watched that show for one reason - Her Royal Thickness Tisha Campbell...

I've been following Miss Tisha from way back - Spike Lee's School Daze, House Party 1, 2 & 3, Boomerang (where old girl was too funny), Martin (the original 'You go, girl'), Sprung and, of course, My Wife and Kids. And through the years, my girl Tisha grew to become the epitome of south side thickosity. The fact that her presence alone could draw me into watching a show that grew whacker by the week speaks volumes for the thick phenomenon. If you're a frequent reader of this blog, you'll note I'm no fan of the Wayans style of silly, over the top, bathroom humor. Damon Wayans had a great opportunity to create an enduring sitcom in the tradition of The Cosby Show but see what happens when you have every single member of your family working on your show?

Whether Tisha was on the set killing every pair of pants she slipped on or teasing Damon when she got mad at him that he'd be missing out on 'all of this', she was a frequent Tivo freeze frame target. Gotta love that Tivo freeze frame, jack. Looks like I'll have to save the last episode for a while - at least until they drop the series DVD because not only will Tisha be moving on, so will Short On The Rise Brooklyn Sudano. Dang, Damon - if you aren't the ultimate CB'ing, brother.

In the meantime, I'll be keeping an eye out for Tisha's next vehicle - maybe old girl will bring her singing and dancing talents to Broadway for a few and let old Tyrone peep her live and in person like foine shorty Sanaa Lathan. Ahhh, the dream lives on, y'all...

Peace@Least,

Tyrone

Mr. Chappelle, Your Corner's Ready...

Wassup, Y'all!

Another day, another Where's Chappelle? update. The good news is that our boy Dave Chappelle swears that 1) he's not crazy and 2) he's not smoking crack (hmmm...did we ever say he was? Sounds kinda defensive on that one, y'all). In an attempt to explain his erratic behavior, Dizzy Dave dropped a few quotes on Time magazine to let folks know he's A-OK and just on a 'spiritual retreat' over in Durban, South Africa...Now I hear the ocean scenery in Durban is off the hook but I'm figuring if you do smoke a little crack and stare out at Malibu Beach long enough it'll start resembling the South African coast. Had Dave been wise enough to take this approach, he'd be able to get his spiritual retreat on *and* keep taping his damn show! Okay, okay - I'm being a little selfish on this one, y'all but come on now! As creative as that brother is, I *know* he could have come up with something better than that!!

O & Stedman sighting!...Man, just when I was believing the hype about Oprah drop kicking Stedman, old boy turns up at her California, off the hizzle fo shizzle, blowout honoring 25 south side shorty legends. In celebration, I'll drop a retro glossy of Her O-ness and Rock Stedy. I caught a couple clips of that joint and it was a who's who in black America up in that mug. (Side Note: is anyone living the life better than Illinois' freshman U.S. Senator Barack Obama? Man, a year ago that brother was a regular, Joe Blow state Senator and now he's on *everybody's* A-list and it seems he never met an invitation he didn't RSVP. Can't hate on that, y'all...). As I was looking over all the beautiful people kicking at Oprah's party, I had to ask myself "I wonder what all the folks who didn't get an invite are thinking now?" That's a cold dish to know you're on Oprah's B-List....

Speaking of beautiful people, I saw my girl Angela Bassett slinking through the party with her fine self and that reminded me to get back on my letter writing campaign to get her role on Alias expanded. ABC - how you gonna hire fine Angela and then give her about 30 minutes of air time during the *whole* season? How whack is that?? Don't make me have to stop by the office and get medieval on that a**. Old girl is too fine to be on the sidelines! And while I'm on it, y'all know Alias has missed a couple steps this season. There's a little too much love and happiness going on back at headquarters. You need to come strong next season and shake things up, man! It's Alias not Touched By An Angel!! Take a note from 24 to see how to come strong *every* week.

Finally, big ups to my girl Robin Roberts who got elevated to a co-anchor slot on GMA! Man, I've been writing letters for I don't know how long saying they should do just that. Now I don't want to take *all* the credit for the move, but I do have to get mine, y'all. Now if we add up all the south side morning show anchors we get a grand total of.....one. Ah well, Rome wasn't built in a day, but quiet as it's kept, at this rate *Chelsea* Clinton will be running for President before we see another one. Go on with your bad self, Robin!



Peace@Least,

Tyrone

Chappelle's Show: South Africa

Wassup, Y'all!

Just a few days after my Where's Dave Chappelle, B*tch post, news is percolatin' that the host of my favorite comedy show is cold chillin' in South Africa! Problem is that according to Entertainment Weekly he's not there mining new material for the show, he's there getting a personal tour of one of their mental health facilities. Is it me or is anyone else getting that whole Richard-Pryor-running-down-the-street-on-fire vibe?...

Hopefully it's nothing really serious but if it is, you still have to give Dizzy Dave the props for keeping the cheddar in the community by opting to get his electro-shock therapy in Soweto instead of out at the trendy Betty Ford Clinic like those other glitzy Hollywood types. That fact alone tells me that Dave's gonna be all right.

Yet something tells me it wasn't all Dave's decision. A move like this has The Ni**er Pixie written all over it, y'all.
Knowing Dave, that brother was probably already two steps away from assimilatin' into the color blind, fat stack, 'New Money' crowd who all have the Betty Ford Clinic on speed dial. I can see Dave's handlers pulling up to the gates with him in the back under a Martha Stewart Collections twill blanket when the Ni**ger Pixie pops in there with him cackling:

"Ni**ger, what the *&%$ on your mind! What the %#&* did this old a** white lady ever do for you?? Nothing, that's what! Now what you need to do is get your skinny, broke down a** over to South Africa, ni**ga. Get you some of that Nelson Mandela discipline cuz yo a** is soft, ni**a. Soft! Look at you - sittin' on $50 million and can't even get out of your Martha Stewart bathrobe and sweat socks. Ni**ga, we use to raise a family of twelve on $4.50 a week and some government cheese! Now go get yo a** on a plane, ni**ga and work it out!"

Or something along those lines. Whatever's going on down in Cape Town, let's hope it works. After Richard Pryor's personal and physical trials and Robin Harris' untimely death, we damn sure don't need another bright comedic light short circuited (unless it's Shawn or Marlon Wayans...). Knowin' Dave, he'll arrive back in the US after a couple months married to Winnie Mandela...

Peace@Least,

Tyrone

Can the Dream Survive Reality??

Wassup, Y'all!

If you're a regular reader of this blog, you'll know that I have a habit of posting glossys of women who most guys would lump into the 'Hot' category. Sure there might be some air brushing going on, a strategic lean forward or arm squeeze to accentuate an already eye popping pair of breasts, or 'second skin' fitting jeans or skimpy lingerie to showcase all the back baby's bringing to the party. Normally after a quick peep, our first thought goes something like this, "Damn - I'd like to get with that, jack! Could you imagine waking up next to her every day?" Now contrast this knee-jerk reaction with the reality that these girls are getting dumped by their entertainer boyfriends on a regular basis and it begs the question - "Is it possible that these glossy shortys are just like the regular shortys we hang with now who are working our last nerves? Can life be that cruel?"....

I offer up exotic shorty Thandie Newton as my own personal example since I just checked old girl out in the movie 'Crash'. (Side Note: Excellent flick, y'all - spend your money - you won't be disappointed). Now let's start with the superficial - she's fine, kicks a sexy British accent (I think I have a thing for south side shortys with British accents, y'all) and she played a sexy, smart British health care worker in Africa on ER. Now based on that flimsy resume, old Tyrone is ready to jump the broom with Thandie until I checked old girl out in 'Crash'. In 'Crash' she plays the boozy, American wife (still fine) of a young Hollywood directer (homeboy Terrance Howard) and spends most of her time ragging on homeboy. So I'm in the theater, thoughtfully munching my popcorn and thinking, 'Dang - Thandie's kinda bitchy. I don't know if I could put up with that bricka-brack every damn night' and then it hits me - 'I wonder if old girl is really like this chick or like the smart hottie from ER?' See what I'm saying y'all? So now I'm thinking maybe I was too hard on some of those entertainment brothers who I cracked on for kicking some of the finest women on the planet to the curb - Jamie Foxx and Leila Archieri, Rick Fox and Vanessa Williams, John Singleton and Tyra Banks, blah, blah, blah. Man - I'm shuddering just thinking about that bleak possibility because what's a homeboy without his dreams? Bascially - he's you right now rolling your eyes while your girl jibber-jabbers on and on and on and on and on and...

I bet if we could take a peek in Tiger Woods' crib on a Saturday (like tomorrow since old boy *missed* the Byron Nelson cut!) we'd see the following: Tiger chilling on the couch watching a Tivo'd episode of '24' as his hot, Swedish nanny wife Elin Nordegren (refer to glossy for a visual refresher) comes in the room steaming:


It's Clear Who Wears The Pants
In The Woods Household
"Damn it, Tiger! How many times do I have to tell your Caublinasian a** to get up off the couch and take the trash out? Is it that #$%@#$ hard? Look, I'm not your damn mother - we don't play that $%&# in Sweden - we expect our men to actually do some housework! You just keep watching that '24' and the only thing you'll be tappin' tonight are the digits on your cellphone so you can cry to your daddy about how you're not getting any a**! Are you listening to me?!!"

I don't know about the rest of you homeboys, but I plan to do my best to erase that chilling alternate reality from every neuron in my brain and foolishly hang on to the 'perfect' dream where glossy shortys *act* as good as they look. It can happen, right?

Peace@Least,

Tyrone

Where's Dave Chappelle, B*tch?

Wassup, Y'all!

Man, come on! Just when you get to the point of jonesin' for a show, the star either 1) Get's high and mighty and departs for the movies, 2) Get's high and mighty and demands complete creative control, 3) Get's high and mighty and demands Bill Gates money, 4) Partys like a Roman Caesar and loses his creative edge or 5) Get's what he wishes for and can't handle it. So it comes as no surprise (but a *big* disappointment) that my boy Dave Chappelle from the too funny 'Chappelle Show' has gone missing in action...

Reports are on the wire that Dizzy Dave is suffering from one or all of the above afflictions. MSNBC's article had the best title: Fears of a Clown but regardless of the article you read, the end result is the same - no damn Chappelle Show - at least for now as production is postponed indefinitely. Now I sure don't want to have to write another installment in my 'Stuck on Stupid' post series Dave, but I will if I have to. Dude - you've got a $50 million dollar deal on the table! Step up and get yours, brother. Sure, sure I can wear out my Season One and Season Two DVD sets but after a while I'm going to need some fresh material, homeboy.

To be honest, y'all with this latest development, I'm really starting to think there's something to this 'money and fame isn't all it's cracked up to be' line we keep hearing from these rich and famous entertainers. From all those whacked out child stars who go on to work in video stores or become mall security, to mega stars who roll like Tony Montana from Scarface (The World Is Yours) and end up like Marilyn Monroe, Howard Hughes, Freddie Prinz (Sr. y'all not Jr.) or Old Dirty Bastard. For the life of me I can't imagine how that situation is *not* all that but I'm here and they're there so they do have a much better vantage point.

At any rate, it goes without saying that I'd be willing to take one for the team and try the experiment. So if there are any rich dudes reading the blog (Mark Cuban, Billy G., Warren Buffet, Bob Johnson - hold up, scratch that. I ain't taking a dime from Bob Johnson, Oprah, et. al.) who want to run a 'Trading Places' on me like the Dukes did Eddie Murphy, don't hesitate to call...

In closing (as Rev. Al likes to say), I'll leave y'all with a little old time religion and drop the following verse on you from LeBron "King" James Version:

"Yes, what does it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world but lose his own soul?" - (Mark 8:36)


Tyra - Temptation #1
Hmmm, if that world contained Tyra Banks, Rosario Dawson and Michael Michelle, I'd have to say he would gain a whole lot... Let the lightening rain down :-)

Peace@Least,

Tyrone

The Chosen One: Stuck On Stupid

Wassup, Y'all!

I read it and I listened to it but I *still* can't believe that four star knucklehead Kellen Winslow Jr., proported tight end for the Cleveland Browns, jacked himself up riding a motorcycle. And if the reports that started circulating yesterday are accurate, it looks like after only playing two games for Cleveland last year before breaking his leg, he could be done for this season before it even starts. Quite an inauspicious debut for the self anointed 'Chosen One'...

Now let's excuse the fact that he was already recovering from a broken leg *and* had a 'no motorcycle riding' clause in his 6 year, $40 million dollar contract (which he held out of camp to get), yet he still decided that it'd be okay to buy a motorcycle and discover the hard way that he had no riding skillz to speak of. Doofus. Matter of fact, if you read the unofficial jibber jabber from profootballtalk.com's rumor mill, the mystery surrounding TCO's injuries is even more ominous with speculation percolatin' that old boy may be done for good. Even if that's not the case, after already missing out on $5.3 million in bonus money because of his lack of playing time last season, indications are that Cleveland will ask for some of his signing bonus cheddar back to the tune of $4.4 million. And they say you can't put a price on stupidity... When I first read thebrushback.com's satire on knucklehead tight ends (Jeremy Shockey Passes A**hole Torch To Kellen Winslow Jr.). I thought old boy's take was funny but a little cold. With this recent turn of events, it's amazing just how psychic he was...


So now TCO joins that other resident non-motorcycle ridin' big money athlete Jay Williams who managed to play one season for the Chicago Bulls, cry through the second half of that season about how he wanted to be trading because he couldn't play his style of basketball, then hop on a motorcycle for his first ride and lose a smack down with a light pole. He was lucky to even live through that one and even luckier not to have his mangled leg amputated. He hasn't been on the court since and the Bulls bought his big money contract out for $3 million...

I'm not gettin' it, y'all. Is it that hard to wait until after your career to do all the things your contract says you shouldn't? Shame, shame. Anyway, I thought I'd drop a final glossy for TCO and Jay to remind them that the movie Biker Boyz was just that - a movie!

TCO/Jay: note that even Orlando Jones and Lawrence Fishburne are just chillin' in the spot *talking* about riding their crotch rockets. My bad for droppin' this post just a tad bit too late fellas...


Larry to OB:
Dude - you think any knuckleheads think
we're doing this for real?

Peace@Least,

Tyrone

Guess Who's Coming to Wisteria Lane?

Wassup, Y'all!

That's right, y'all. It seems some one at ABC has been reading the blog as old Tyrone was crying long and hard about the fact that there wasn't a single south side family kicking it on Wisteria Lane - the 'Beaver Cleaver' neighborhood featured in ABC's hit 'Desperate Housewives'. I dropped a dime on them back in January in my 'Mortgage Redlining on Wisteria Lane?' post. Well word's in from my LA contact Gin Fizz that my girl Alfre Woodard is set to become the first south side housewife on May 15th, a week before the May 22nd season finale so you know the joint's gonna get juicy next season, y'all...

First things first - I'm figuring the reason it's taken so long for a sister to find her way to Wisteria Lane is because they've already perfected being 'desperate housewives' . That little bit of drama going on in Pleasantville wouldn't even warrant most sisters turning over in bed...but I digress. Second, somehow this south side family comes with the last name 'Applewhite'...Come on, now! What happened to Jackson, Johnson or Jefferson?? I've been a south sider for a long time now and never once bumped up on a south side family called the damn Applewhites! Okay - beggars can't be choosy but next season I better see at least one show where a mainstream north side family has two sons named Tyrone and Peabo or I'm a know something.

The Wisteria news gets even better, y'all. Alfre is coming to the hood with her young son who'll be played by 24 year old model Mehcad 'The Cad' Brooks. You know where this is headed, y'all. You know Mehcad 'The Cad' is gonna bump that buster gardener out the way and end up tapping Eva Longoria on the kitchen table, on the bedroom dresser, out back on the air conditioner and everywhere in between. That'll be 'must see TV'. Woooooo. Will Gabrielle catch the fever for the flavor? Is the Pope German (with all that wall to wall coverage, y'all better know the answer to that one!)? The only thing wilder would be for 'The Cad' to tap that uptight Bree Vandekamp. I bet Vegas already has a 'tap' line out now....

It's gonna be a looong, hot summer y'all!

Peace@Least,

Tyrone

How Smart Brothers Get The Digits...

Wassup, Y'all!

You know, as illogical as it sounds, when it comes to getting a fly shorty's digits at the club, the smarter you are, the less likely you are to 1) get an audience with a fly shorty, 2) get her to scrawl her digits on a matchbook or napkin and 3) have those digits actually ring any phone she owns. Sad but true. Destiny's Child broke it down in their song 'Soldier' and my homeboy Donte broke it down over on 2 Guys 2 Cities with his 'A Thug or A Gentleman?' post a little while back. So what's a brother who scored more than 600 on the SAT supposed to do to get some play at the clizub? Why use the brain God gave you of course...

Of course it's simple to go the other route and just play dumb, but hey - old girl's gonna find you out eventually when she comes by the crib and actually finds a book on your coffee table instead of an old school double sided album cover with weed stems and seeds down the middle. So the next time you hit the club and you bump up on a few 'Get Right' shortys (shortys with car note sized bar tabs) trying to figure out how to split the bill, just roll up to the finest one in the crew, pull out your Texas Instruments Programmable Calculator and offer to work her bill for her - the price? Just one little favor. Before you calculate her bill, hand her the calculator and ask her to do the following:

1. Key in the first three digits of her phone number (NOT the area code)
2. Multiply by 80
3. Add 1
4. Multiply by 250
5. Add the last 4 digits of her phone number
6. Add the last 4 digits of her phone number again.
7. Subtract 250
8. Divide number by 2

Have her hand the calculator back. The suave reader will recognize that the result is actually her complete phone number (won't work if old girl habitates a spot that has an area code different from yours tho). Store that bad boy away in one of your memory slots and get to calculating her bill. Wait a couple days, then give old girl a call and tell her she accidently left her phone number in your calculator and ask her whether she wants to come by and pick it up. Here it helps if homegirl is in that group that scored *less* than 600 on her SAT or a wide eyed, innocent shorty like my girl Lela Rochon.


Hey! How'd My Number Get
In Your Calculator?
Give it try - you might even get the draws just for being creative...

Peace@Least,

Tyrone

The Drunk Shortys Strike Back...

Wassup, Y'all!

First, no I wasn't at the club with these two shortys when this picture was taken. Second, yes I did try to find a glossy of some south side shortys getting their drink on but... Anyway, I'm sure both the homeboys and the homegirls in the Malone Zone are familiar with the heinous scam of a homeboy spiking a shorty's drink when's she's not looking. That would be the same felonious fool who is always looking for a shortcut - cheating on tests instead of studying, lifting dollars from their mama's purse instead of working, stealing snacks out the mini mart instead of buying them, drugging women for sex instead of stepping to them correctly and rolling the dice. Well ladies, it looks like the days of innocently sipping cosmos with the girls only to wake up twelve hours later in a seedy Tijuana motel with no money and no clothes is coming to a welcome close...

Engadget is propping the story of a novel new drinking glass that virtually eliminates the ability of someone to tamper with the liquid inside. It's hollow - think of a smaller glass inside of a larger one with your alcoholic beverage of choice poured in the space between them. The gap is sealed and you can only quaff your drink by inserting a custom nozzle. Might not be as elegant as a martini glass, but if your goal is safely drinking and partying in mixed company until the cows come home, you may want to check this bad boy out.

Personally, the thrill of the chase is half the excitement of mingling with shortys in the first place! There's the suave approach, the text book slide onto the vacant bar stool, the shorty eye roll followed quickly by the 'talk to the hand' move. Yeah - it can be a chore, but for every eye roll and napkin with the state prison switchboard number scrawled on it, there are those cute 'diamond in the rough' shortys willing to gamble a few minutes to listen to your material. Drop it right, with just the right combination of humor and confidence and no knock out drops will be required to get to where you want to go. Because lets be honest fellas - you know it won't stop with the tamper-proof cocktail glass. Be thankful that bad boy was invented by a dude - it's a *passive* countermeasure. We all know there are shorty inventors out there right now working on *active* countermeasures to take down felonious fools, you know how they do. It's just a matter of time before those stun gun panties and bear trap bras come on the market. So do yourself a favor - hone your game now and learn to step correct. The limb you save could be your own...

Peace@Least,

Tyrone

The One About The Podcast...

Wassup, Y'all!

You can come down from the ledge now. The time has finally arrived for old Tyrone to dip his toe into the hot arena of Podcasting. I know that shortys the world over have lamented the fact that they've never had an opportunity to actually step into the Malone Zone and *hear* what old Tyrone has to say. What's he sound like? Pee Wee Herman or Barry White (I won't even dignify that one, y'all - you know how I roll)? Is he 'all that and a bag of chips' or Steve Urkel posin' as Stephon?...

To finally answer these intriguing questions, I've tapped my boy Peabo to produce the inaugural Tyrone Malone Podcast . A left click on the link will play it in your browser and a right click will let you save it to your PC where you can download it to your MP3 player for fun on the run (I'd opt for option #2 but that's just the way I roll, y'all)

This installment features a Primer (for the brothers down at Winky's Corner Store that mean a "A book that covers the basic elements of a subject") to help readers brush up on the urban vernacular sprinkled through my posts as well as a skit or two highlighting a few of my previous post topics. It's tight and tasty so don't be scurred. Pop into the Malone Zone and hear what's crackin'. The Tyrone Malone Show is on the air...

Peace@Least,

Tyrone