Wednesday, October 31, 2007


To prepare for the "holiday", I read about all of the traps for "Saw". No, I did not see the movies. Yes, I'm a pussy when it comes to gorey/splatter/torture-porn films! So damn what! *side-eyes Chris*

Anyway, on C+D, I started futzing around with the concept of celebrity "Saw" traps, so without further adieu, here is the first of a possible series!

NOTE: This is all done in fun and I do not wish any of the celebrities harmed and/or killed.


She wakes up in a concert arena, strapped to a chair with wires attached to her hair and clothes. A tape clicks on.

Jigsaw: Beyonce Knowles. You are admired all over the world for many things, but moreso for your luxurious locks. Your assertion that your hair is real fools your adoring public but it has not fooled me. You are also admired for having a successful career which you avoid the trappings of by your virtue of modesty. *chuckles*

*quick clips of Beyonce's "wardrobe malfunctions" are shown on a screen in front of her*

Millions of females hope that they can be just like you because you're so...real. Well, let's see how they feel after your test.

If you want to live, you will have to shed those things that make you "real". Make your way to the exit directly in front of you and you will find a key that unlocks the door. Let the game begin.

*tape clicks off*

*spotlight shines on her*

She trys to get out of the chair and feels her lacefront and clothes pulling. Suddenly, she hears an unholy roar and feels trembles beneath her feet. Panicked, she bolts out of the chair, and her lacefront and clothing are ripped off by the wires. Tear-stained, bloody and naked, she runs to the edge of the stage.

*house lights come up*

The roars and trembling she heard and felt were those of the packed house in the concert arena, expecting to see an impromptu concert. Cameras flash all around her and cell phone cameras roll. Blinded by the lights, she runs through the irate crowd to get to the exit. After fighting her way through the laughing and disgusted fans, she finds the key and unlocks the door. She runs out into the lobby but doesn't notice that her feet passes through a laser. The laser triggers a gun and a single bullet is fired into her right temple.

The crowd hears the shot and runs out into the lobby. There they find a dead Beyonce, face-down with a bloody gun in her hand.

After worldwide speculations and "witnesses", it is concluded that Beyonce died of a self-inflicted gunshot would to the head. Sources say that rather than dealing with the shame of being shown to be false, she killed herself.

Please Teach the Babies AND Yourself!

While reading the O Hell Nawl blog, I came across a seriously funny post about Biracial kids' hair and their white parent's completely inability to find out what the fuck to do for their hair. Come to think of it, for some reason, it's very rare that I see a mixed child's hair to be kempt and tamed. Often it's frizzy, dry and leaves them lookin' like a used paintbrush. *sighs* Why? Is there not ANYONE the unknowledgeable parent can talk to about products and styling techniques? Is the Black partner's family unwilling to share their hair care secrets?

The person I feel sorry for the most is the child.

Parents: Your children should NOT walk around looking disheveled as hayle cause you can't get on the 'Net/talk to a
friend/elder/relative/cosmotologist/whoever about what to do for that child's hair! No, you can't just put a ton of grease in it but you also can't just wash it and let it flow in the breeze! Why does it seem like no one can find a happy medium?

Ok, there are some parents who end up taking their precious one to a salon or over someone's house to get it done and it looks nice...

...then two weeks later, the chile is walking around with frizzy ass braids/ponytails/whatever 'cause SOMEBODY didn't take the time to find out how to keep the style up! *throws up hands*

The saddest part about all of this? The child is not taught to LOVE his or her hair texture or to play with it or to embrace it...they're taught to destroy it because "nothing else works". Believe me, I know of which I speak. As a child, my hair was VERY thick and wavy. Hell, it still is. The main problem for me and my mother was the fact that I had these little eensy weensy waves all over my head which made it HELL to comb through! Seriously, Sunday nights played out like a torture flim.


For some reason, my dear mother LOVED to braid my hair into little ass cornrows. Shit looked fly when it was done, but MAAAAAAAAN...getting there was a bitch! Anyway, she would make me take down my hair so she could wash it. Do you know how long it took me to do that shit? One to two hours! By the end of it, my arms would be quivering more than Big Gay Al when he realized what "consumating the marriage" meant!


With a dirty mass upon my head, I was then lead to the sink by my mother. Then it began: The few tricklets of water streaming down my face. Then a full-on current of water dead in the face! I don't know what the FUCK my mother's problem was but she damn near drowned me every. single. time she washed my hair! It always took about 20 or 30 minutes cause the water had to soften the hair, then the shampoo had to be lathered (which, as y'all with kinky hair know ain't a-gonna happen the first time around, most likely), then it had to be scrubbed into the scalp and then the rinsing. SWEET JEEBUS, the rinsing!

Keep this in mind:

We didn't have one of those fancy spray hoses that connected to the faucet. Our oh-so-lovely ABLA project home had only a standard faucet. Now, it's bad enough that I had to crane my neck under that damn thing to fit but in order to get enough pressure to get the suds and dirt out, my mother would press her fingers on the faucet to create a spray.

...yeah, Shamu made less of a splash than that shit did.


So, after looking and feeling like a drowned rat, my mother would set me down on the bed, hand me a hair dryer and go on about her business getting ready for work and/or school the next morning. To recap, my arms feel like I've been dangling from a dusty lacefront for days and I'm waterlogged as hell and this chick wants me to use my arms AGAIN to blowdry my shit? Y'all, I've always loved my mother but my dislike of her started very early with this shit! Who ever heard of a self-service salon?!?

"Yeah, take down your hair and blowdry it and I'll wash it and style it."


So after ANOTHER hour of getting through the Amazonian jungle (but with considerably less moisture) that was my hair it was time for the last and most brutal act...


*winces and shakes in rememberance* Going through this act is what made me turn to tha Creamy Crack aka Relaxer aka Perm. LAWD, I was screaming bloody murder for 4 hours every fuckin' Sunday because Mama wanted to be cute with the braids.

Ol' heffa. *snorts*

I'm telling you, the scalping machine in "Saw 4" would've felt better to me than this shit! *punches the air like Ricky in "Boyz N Da Hood"*

I was tenderhead as HAYLE so y'all already KNOW how that shit goes. Add on to that an annoyed-at-my-screaming mama and fun times were had by all! Every now and then she would pop my ass with the (grease covered) comb and let me know that if I didn't stop screaming like I was getting abused she would give me a real reason to scream. Good times, y'all.

So...after all of that a beautiful young lady with tear-stained cheeks and grease-stained arms would stand before my mother. A girl who was Black, German, Jewish and Blackfoot, who looked Puerto Rican but had eyes like a Japanese chick from the braids being so tight! She knew how tight to braid them, though cause I never had bumps and I still have my edges. Uh, fuck yeah!

Unfortunately, the drama AND the trauma of us not knowing what the hell else to do with my hair (and due to there not being many products for mixed kids) led us to what we both considered to be OUR salvation: Relaxer.


It was cool at first because with a little burning and spoiled somethingorother smell, I had managable ass hair! Years later I just couldn't deal with the hassle anymore: the smell, the burning, my hair burning off at the roots, the upkeep, the flat irons and most of all, the TIME! Eventually, I just cut the shit off and went natural and that's where I've been for about 4 years. That creamy crack be caaaaaaaaallin' me sometimes but I know that I'm better off for getting that shit outta my life.

ANYWAY...the point of all that was...wait...lessee...

Right! Not teaching the child to love their hair. *shuffles topic cards* Okay.

I cannot tell you how pissed off and disgusted I get at the "My Child NEEDS a Makeoever!!" shows on TV, specifically "Maury". First of all, the fact that you're telling a national audience that your child is looking so fucked up that they "need" a makeover is a bit distasteful to me.

Second, the fact that the mother (it's always the mother and she's always white) not only will allow her child to look like whodiditandranandwherecanwefindhisasssohewon'tdoitagain in their everyday lives - she will take that child on the air looking like that! Do you know how fragile kids' feelings can be and how cruel those lil' bastards are? You really think a hot comb will keep the child from getting teased once that shit airs? Chile, boo!

The two things that fuck me up most are the "solutions" and the aftermath.

What's the FIRST damn thing the stylists do when taking on the "challenge" of Biracial hair? RELAX IT! And we're not talking about just putting a little bit in and letting it sit for a small amount of time to loosen the curls. Nope, we talmbout full on, napalm bomb-strength, 45 minutes, cuticle destroying, bone-straight hair!

*screams in frustration*

So, instead of showing the child how to nurture her hair, you teach her to fuck it up. Nice. As if that wasn't insult enough, the child's hair STILL be looking frizzy and dry as hell!

*smacks forehead on desk*

The aftermath? *sighs* It really does hurt my heart when they do an update and the girl is all, "I have sooooooo many new friends at school now! Thanks, Maury! *waves*". That shit cuts me in two ways: One, it shows how kids can be so fickle and so rude to those that are different from them in any way. Two, she had to get her hair straightened to get accepted at school (and sometimes in her own family). I wish I could say that if she had been in school with healthy natural hair that she would've gotten the same results but I honestly don't know. It never turns out that way on TV. Sometimes it doesn't turn out that way in real life.

*sighs with a heavy heart*

*wipes tears*

The point to all of this is NOT to demonize the relaxing of one's hair. If that's how you rock it and it works for you, DO YOU! I understand that for a lot of sistahs it's not about trying to look white, it's about managablity, versatility or you just like the way it looks. That's FINE.

The point of all this is to say that we seriously need to start educating ourselves and others about how to have healthy natural hair. We don't have to load it down with grease and we don't have to burn it into submission. We CAN have unfrizzy, moisturized looking AND feeling, natural hair. We just have to be willing to take the journey to get there. And PLEASE take the babies along for the ride! Use Corbin Blu as inspiration or whatever, just do it.

4 years CC-free and counting,

Reina Negra V


Ya know...I actually like this one. I think it's really creative. That said, I would've been muerte if one of them had busted his shit trying to do the lean. Fuck tha bitches, y'all shoulda did it for the lulz! Bitches luuuuuh the lulz!

And Chris...if you never knew it before, I abosolutely love you, if for no other reason, for the pure fuckery you bring into my life.

Moonwalk that *tears shirt open and stands in front of wind machine* HOOOOOOOOOOOO!,

Reina Negra V

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Messed Up My Flow

Today was kind of an eventful day. I crunked, talked to one of my fav Crunkettes, Q and I went out to take care of some business. I got on the bus near my house and I saw a really cute guy and an older woman looking at me and cheesing. I found out that they were LOVING my hair (it's blue, doncha know?). I wanted to say something to the guy but 1) I didn't know the relationship between them (stranger shit has happened) and 2) I was getting off of the bus soon. It was cool though. I could stand to let a cutie pass me by. Then I got off of the bus.

And he got off with me.


I walked up to him and told him that I just had to tell him how cute he was. And he was! He looked like Memp Bleek...

...just without the head.

Or the window licker-ish faces he sometimes produces like JoJo Simmons.

Dude was cute as hell, y'all! Lil' ass t'weren't nan but 20 years old but he was sex-ay! We exchanged names and were about to exchange numbers when...

His muthafuckin' boys pulled up in a ride and his fool ass ran over to them and got in the car like, "Sorry!".

My face cracked worst than an egg in the microwave.

All I could think of saying was, "HOW Y'ALL JUST GON' MESS UP MAH PIMPIN' LIKE DAT?!? Y'ALL SUCK!". I was dying laughing when I said it though.

No love lost. Just proves that he was too young to deal with this chica anyway. I mean, it's all about priorities. He KNEW he was about to get the digits and he jumps in the car with his boys? His mind's still in that group mentality. Bros over "hoes" or whatever you want to call it. Pero, no me importa. I'm supposed to be getting a call from a cute ass guy that I actually ran (yes RAN) back for about 15 or 20 minutes before that. I'll let y'all know how it goes.

Now if y'all will excuse me, I'm bout to get my eat on. Them $ .59 McD's cheeseburgers ain't no joke and a bish is hongray!

- - - *hungry Aretha face*

Reina Negra V

Sunday, October 28, 2007

Don't We All?

One time I took a MySpace survey and one of the questions was, "Do you want to be famous?". My answer: HAYLE NAH! Why? 'Cause I don't wanna go through the shit! Tabloids, pressures, poor decision. I can do all that without hanger-ons, easy access to drugs, and a shitload of money, thankyouverymuch! This vid encapsulates that feeling and more. Enjoy!

Saturday, October 27, 2007

Dedicated to Nik and E Dub

This seems to have been a really shitty week for a couple of my friends. :-( Both are dealing with a major loss and I really don't know how to help. I don't even know if I can. These two people mean a lot to me and both have had a hand in shaping the person writing this blog. Both have been there for me when I was feeling at my lowest so I want to be there for them. I call, I leave messages on FB and MS, whatever I can to show them that I care.

Two songs popped into my head when thinking about their sitchyations. One could be seen as being from their point of view and the other could be seen as my response. Don't look at me like that! This is how I express myself sometimes. I can't sing and I'm not good at writing lyrics so I let the lyrics of others speak for me (and sometimes for everyone else lol).

To Nik and E, if y'all are reading this, I hope that you find some comfort in these songs and that y'all truly see how I feel about all of this. I also want to say I'm sorry. I know that loss is a messed up thing whether it's your lover or a loved one.

E - Remember what I told you the other day: I know you're sad but take comfort in the fact that he's not feeling any kind of pain anymore.

N - If they ain't gonna treat you the way you want then LET THEM GO!

I love y'all crazy asses (said with a LOT of love) and I miss y'all!

Reina Negra V aka V-Bear aka Bighead

Troubles by Alicia Keys

Dear Lord, can You take it away?
This pain in my heart just follows me by day.
And at night, it stalks me like the shadows on my wall.
Oh my goodness…

Feel like the world is closing on me
Feel like my dreams will never come to me
I keep on slippin’ deeper into myself
And I'm scared, so scared.

If you’re troubled, you’ve just gotta let it go
If you’re worried, baby, you’ve just gotta let it go
All your hustles seem for nothin’, you’ve just gotta take it slow
When you need me baby, all you do is let me know

Why does it feel that my mind is constantly trying to pull me down?
I can’t seem to get away
Continuous mistakes I know I made before
How long will I feel so out of place?

If you’re troubled, you’ve just gotta let it go
If you’re worried, baby, you’ve just gotta let it go
All your hustles seem for nothin’, you’ve just gotta take it slow
When you need me baby, all you do is let me know...

Security by Joss Stone aka my response

A loss that would have thrown a hole through anybody's soul
And you were only human after all
So don't hold back the tears, my dear
Release them so your eyes can clear
I know that you will rise again but you gotta let them fall
I wish that I could snap my fingers
Erase the past but no
You cannot rewind reality
Once the tape's unrolled

If your spirit's broken and you can't bear the pain
I will help you put the pieces back a little more each day
And if your heart is locked and you can't find the key
Lay your head upon my shoulder
I'll set you free
I'll be your security

A moment of despair
That forces you to say that life's unfair
It makes you scared of what tomorrow may bring
But don't go giving into fear
Stop hiding all alone in there
The show keeps going on and on but you'll miss the whole damn thing
I wish I had a crystal ball to see what the future holds
But we don't know how the story ends till it's all been told

On any clock upon the wall the time is always now
So baby kiss the past goodbye
Don't let the future blow your mind
Just sit back and chill
Take things as they come
You can't be afraid
To live for today
I will be with you each step of the way...

Thursday, October 25, 2007

If You Were Looking For It...

Harder. Better. Faster. Stronger.

You know I luff the hell out of you, Curtis but looked a bit too comfy in that self-made smediam shirt, k'naamean?

Don't ack like I neva told ya,

Reina Negra V

Sunday, October 21, 2007

Sunday Randomness

Everyone at one time or another has heard the song "Bread and Butter". Ya know, "He like bread and butta/He like toast and jam/That's what his baby feeds him/He's her lovin' man". There's a part near the end of the song where someone screams, "No no no no!". Before that it says "I don't like bread and butter/I don't like toast and jam". I always wondered if the aforementioned screams were that of a frustrated woman who got pissed off because she had made him all that damn toast and jam and now he wouldn't eat the shit! I'd be pissed off, too.

If I was the Erica Kane of the Rap/R&B world, my name would be V Houston-Carter-Jackson-Jaco.

I once had a dream that I screwed both Jay-Z and Beyonce and Beyonce wanted to leave Jay and be with me. Damn you, Beyaki!

I wonder if I had been around him at the time would R. Kelly have tried to pee on me.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

What a Week and a Half It's Been!

These past almost two weeks have been very interesting.

October 5 - I had a very lovely pre-birthday dinner with my two brothers, my uncle, and my possible soon to be sister-in-law at my uncle's/grandfather's restaurant at Navy Pier. The food was great, dirty jokes were shared, and I took my first tequilla shot! I was supposed to go to a club with Nik and her girl but I was so F&F'd (faded and fogged) that I didn't make it. However, I got a call from E Dub (old high school buddy and a buncha other shit I don't wanna talk about), stating that he was 5 minutes away from the club. I told him I wasn't there and he came over and chilled with me on my porch for about 2 hours. Thank goodness I didn't wake up with a hangover!

October 7 - My older brother Psyde came over with his girl's youngins and they brought me a cake, a 12 pack of RC (one of my fave colas) and three Snickers bars!

*sighs happily* I really love my fam. *smiles*

Later on that night a got a call from Z. He said that he missed me and wanted to take me out and when I told him that the next day was my birthday, he acted all surprised. Whateva. I told him that if my plans with Nik (who planned on "kidnapping" me) didn't work out, I would go out with him.

October 8 - My birthday! Nik and Dom came over and we went to a place called Basement Ink in Oak Forest, IL to get my piercings done. Yep, I pulled a Janet...I got my nipples pierced. That shit hurt like a muthafucka! I also paid $10 extra and got my nose redone and a new nose screw. After that we went to Hooters (PSA: If you work at a place with a name like that PLEASE have what the title is meant to convey. And I damn sure don't mean owls!), to Nik's place to meet the pooches (SOOOOO CUUUUUTE!!), then back to my house for session. I took in more than I usually do so it was NOT a good night for me. It seemed like my whole night was an imitation of "Get Me Bodied"'s "tick fight" and at least twice I was thinking that I might be having a damn seisure!

October 9 - Things still weren't quite back to normal because of the chill session but I was cool. Went out with Z. Damn, that was boring! I tried, I mean I REALLY tried to feel him again but it wa'nt ha'enin', ca'in'! Would you be able to keep a straight face if this

is what you saw when he smiled? I am NOT EVEN joking about this, y'all! I had told him a few times that he had a smile like a damn serial killer. Ol' "I'm in ur clawset...wayteen 2 chop u upz!" lookin' ass nigga! *shudders* We agreed to be cool with one another but we'll probably just talk every now and then or something. *shrugs*

October 14 - Had a pretty damn big blowout arguement with my mother. Actually, that's nothing new. The new thing about it was the fact that this time, I was actually in the right and she was the one acting a damn fool! Usually, I cuss, holler, throw things, and (I'm so ashamed to admit this) get into actual physically fights with her. The reasons why is a loooooong story and one that I don't think I'm emotionally prepared to get into right now. Sorry. I actually broke down crying because for one, she kept fuckin' with me and kept restarting the arguement and two, I was scared that something was really wrong with her. The way she was acting was such a 180 that I started wondering if she was struggling with Alzheimer's or something. Not that my mother is all sweetness and light, but she usually doesn't just snap off like that. She's been acting a bit strange lately. I guess I worry because she's 58 years old and she has so many physical problems that I fear something like Alzheimer's isn't far behind. :-( Maybe she's just trying to pay me back for the years of arguements she went through with me when I was at my worst. Maybe I broke her brain.

October 15 - My mother's birthday. I said as little as I could to her (because I was still hurt from the night before) but still tried to be respectful. Psyde and Key (the possible future sis-in-law or TPFSIL) brought by a cake, balloons, cards, and a bottle of wine. BTW, who in the hayle determined that Arbor Mist was not "real" wine? Geez! Anyway, Mom invited my four cousins (two women, a boy and a girl) up to chill for a min and have some cake and whatnot. I ended up loosening up and eventually wished my mother a happy birthday. *smiles* I really had fun that night and so did she. Good times, y'all...good times.

Today - I had been trying to ignore the fact that my left nipple was pierced all wonky-like but it wasn't working. I was going to order some sea salt (for healing soaks) and a longer post, since I was getting indentations from the balls but I decided to call my piercer first.

Me: Hi, is M in?

Guy: Oh, she doesn't work her anymore.

Me: *gasps* The one with the blond dreads and--

Guy: Yep.

Me: Why?

Guy: Well, she was messing up (he either said that or "missing work". I believe the former.) too much so we had to let her go.

Me (thinking): Well, that sure explains a hell of a lot!

(speaking): Oh, because I got my nipples pierced by her almost two weeks ago and she pierced it wrong so I was wondering what could be done about that.

Guy: Well, you could come in so we can take a look at it or you can take it out and put Neosporin on it so it can heal.

Me: Ok, well, if I was to come in, what would happen?

Guy: wouldn't be free because she doesn't work here anymore. (WTF?!? - RNV)

Me: *sighs* Ok, thanks. Bye.

Now, ain't that about a betch? My piercer got fired less than two weeks after I saw her, my tittay could possibly end up all mangled-looking, and I can get a consulation or a repierce for free because her ass got fired. *screams* Ish coo. That's the last damn time I take my ass all the way out to the burbs to get anything done! I'm staying my ass in the damn city next time. Oh, there will be a next time, dammit! I plan to get my nipple redone (the RIGHT way, thankyouverymuch! *George Lopez "Now what?" face*) Thanks to various sites and the good folks at Tribalectic I know that if a piercer tells me to use some damn Neosporin on my piercings that I should basically Superman they ass cause something in the milk ain't clean! I took the piercing out and it's really apparent that she did a really shitty job. From the looks of it, the needle entered through the base of the nip (which is correct) but it exited under the base and through the areola (so not correct that it ain't even funny). It's started to heal up nicely, so that's great but I do NOT look forward to getting it redone. It was bad enough the first time but now the needle has to go through SCAR TISSUE! *sighs* Maybe it'll prepare me for getting my belly button re-pierced since that has scar tissue, too.

Ok, it's time for me to watch Chef Ramsey cuss someone the fuck out on "Kitchen Nightmares", so I'm up. Take care!

Puttin' in holes to express my soul,

Reina Negra V

P.S. When I refer to the "George Lopez face", I usually mean this -

Or this-

Friday, October 12, 2007


I'm not really a Star Wars fan. Couldn't really get into it. But um...this shit right heah? Makes me wanna whoop ass on behalf of all the fans out there.