WHITE POWER!!!!!!

22 Feb

…..Ranger.

Ha. What I did there, that was a joke. I was joking when I did that. What Sammy Sosa is doing on the other hand, is NOT a joke:

What the hell? What in Sammy Sosa’s right mind made him decide to do this? The fad these days is going “green,” Sam, not “white,” you multiracial freak of nature. Doing your “one thing” means taking the stairs instead of the elevator; turning off the faucet while you brush your teeth; recycling paper grocery bags after you use them—not bleaching your flesh to blend in with the Arctic tundra.

Did he do this in an effort to be different? Michael Jackson already pulled this stunt, Sosa, and it’s not like he got raving reviews afterward. What are you trying to achieve? I wonder if this was the result of a midlife crisis. Perhaps the stressed baseball legend was simply in need of a change. Assuming this was the case, does nobody like him enough to suggest buying a new Ferrari, or perhaps buying a condo in Key West before going from Morgan Freeman to Jennifer Love Hewitt in I Know What You Did Last Summer overnight? Why was going from black to white the best he could come up with? If you’re feeling like mixing it up a bit to add some variety to your life, try a new sushi restaurant. Get a new haircut. Travel to Thailand. Don’t change your race.

It’s not like Sammy Sosa needed to be white to gain acceptance. For god’s sakes, he isn’t Rosa Parks. Nobody is making him sit in the back of the bus. Going from ethnic to flour-face isn’t exactly a subtle change. Did he think that no one would notice? Secretly getting a boob job? Plausible. Nose job? Low risk. Dominican to Irish over the weekend isn’t exactly something you can keep low-key.

The Huffington Post reported the following:

Sammy Sosa says a cosmetic cream he uses to soften his skin is the reason for his lighter skin tone. Sosa says he has been using the cream for a long time, and combined with bright TV lights, it made his face look whiter than it really is. He declined to identify the cream.

Alright, Sosa. You might be able to pull the wool over other peoples’ eyes, but not mine. You’re trying to tell me that your moisturizer has turned your entire body from the color of a Godiva chocolate bar to the pasty hue of a Starbucks iced coffee? No. I have been moisturizing my flesh for many, many years, and although it might look like it, I have not gotten any more white. If this were the effect of your average facial cream, not only would I be white, but at this point I would be completely transparent, like you could watch television through my chest.

Bright TV lights, Sammy? Listen, I know that sometimes a bright flash can really cause an unexpected reflection, but making that sort of a claim is ludicrous. That’s like Star Jones claiming she went from whale to waif by switching from Pepsi to diet. Another claim Sosa made was that the cream was part of a “skin rejuvenation” process that lightened his skin drastically. If you want to feel rejuvenated, Sam, pour yourself a glass of green tea. Do some yoga. There are better ways.

In all honesty though, I’m glad people do idiotic things like this, because it keeps me in business. Of course when I say “in business” I mean that it gives me something to rant and rave about, for free. Someday someone will pay me though, you’ll see.

I think Charles Barkley might be an asshole. I like that. I watched a short excerpt of our friend Chuck hosting on some sports news show, and he was making ridiculous, rude, sarcastic commentary, which naturally I liked. He also went ahead and joined in on making fun of Sammy “White Power” Sosa by painting his face white and mocking him on TNT. Good choice, considering Sammy Sosa is INSANE for doing it.

In other news, my life partner Brandon Franks recently adopted two 8-week old baby Siberian huskies. I think I might be more excited than he is, and I am two hours away. I am insanely jealous, like I might do something crazy (like go black-ha! kidding, I’m no nutcase). I plan on visiting him immediately after Christmas so that I can hold them and squeeze them and love on them, and possibly bring one of them home in my suitcase. You know, just tuck it away in my makeup bag and sneak it on home with me. I’m hoping Brandon will starve them until the end of December in an effort to stunt their growth so that they remain tiny little muffin tops and don’t get all big on me before I get a chance to fondle them. We’ll see what he thinks. After all, people have done crazier things. (Sammy Sosa).

ANYway, time to watch shows about fish-angling for sport. Ta ta for now, kiddies.

“How much can you handle at once?”
“Six inches.”

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