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I Love New York: Who's Your Daddy And What Does He Do?
Tuesday. 2.20.07 3:05 pm
Before we delve into another 2-week hiatus from “I Love New York” we are greeted with quite the road to our Fab 5. Since it’s cheaper to use a group of orphan girls than pay for paternity tesses, New York turns her handful of remaining bitch niggas over to The Brat Pack for assessment. Immediately following, she has the boys take out their testosterone-laden frustration on one another in the boxing gym.
…and you thought the basketball was fun to watch.
In the wake of Tim Hardaway’s All-Star Weekend commentary on gay people, I examine just how unexcited the contestants are to see Chamo in the morning. I know it’s not right to judge what people are thinking, but quite a few of them gazes just clamor “chingado maricon.” I wonder if they’d feel better if they saw the video we did last week. (Chamomillionaire’s not gay!)
I’ll tell you who the Blair Switch Hunt should never have let up on, fuckin 12 Pack. As soon as these foster kids come out, nigga wastes zero time in getting a free facial and foundation. “Who wants to put makeup on Uncle 12 Pack?” Can’t fool me, nigga.
Chance must definitely be trying to lineup a career in acting or sketch comedy, because in his character, he’s zero good to anyone. How you gonna tell a little homeless girl “Your edges look tough.” Alright. Let me stop. I’d probably do that same shit if the little devil spawn put cake in my face. If New York were actually looking for a good daddy, I’d put those wenches in check real quick like.
New York: Why do you girls love Tango so much?
Girls: Tango taught us how to snitch! He even showed us his wire! Oh, god. He told us everything!
New York: Why do you hate Chance so much?
Girls: “That is not a real man!”
Even a 9-year old can tell as much! Ah, I hope she finds those orphans’ daddies eventually.
“This is my first date with New York or any saucy black woman, so I’m gonna be extra cool.” This obviously entails dude coming out of his room looking like Bobby Kennedy. I had been trying to figure out who he reminded me of for the longest. This mawfucka is a lost Kennedy.
Ewwww. No, no, Boo Boo! New York’s eye makeup look like she gettin ready for the 9:15 performance of “CATS!” What the fuck, mane?
VH1 once again listened to my blog suggestions and cut from ManBearPig at the dinner table to the horse pulling the fairy tale carriage of Boston and the Tramp. [Play At Home: insert fairy tale parody here]
After all goes well, New York apparently has made up her mind that she’s gonna try her out some bangers and mash. Sadly, Bobby Kennedy looks like he’s never kissed a woman before and she is devouring that little ass.
Back at the plantation, Chance wigs out when MBP told him he’d make a terrible father. The shit struck a chord as he was… on “I Love New York,” away from his 2-year old and being a bad father all at the same time. Damn, Chance. I'll tell you what. None of the other guys are worrying about their kids. You good, dog!
No, seriously. If you put some of the indignation of your monologues into taking care of a child, the world may be a better place for us all tomorrow. Take your Dipset ass back home and raise that kid right so he don’t try to carjack me in 15 years. As the MBP previously stated, “Be a father to your child.”
Sister Patterson been listenin to that old school hip-hop.
Thanks to the distraction/unintentional cockblock, Boston couldn’t get that wondrous chocolate nut off in the hot tub. Instead, he gets to watch his curious little prize convince Cam’ron to not raise his son. Couldn’t have scripted a more fucked ending for Boston, or could we?
Chamo in his Don Flamenco gear alerts the boys the next morning that much like they did with the basketball competition, they are going to pair off and pummel each other for New York’s entertainment. The shit was divided into weight classes, undercards and everything!
Real vs. Whiteboy: Real got his ass knocked dizzy quick-fast like by Whiteboy, who never disappoints the crowd. I expected a little more from Rick James... a slap... something, Charlie Murphaayyy!
12 Pack vs. Tango: Pac went Prince Naseem on this nigga. He doin flips in the ring and everything. He dropped “Tango, the big frickin Wango” with a filthy uppercut (a rarely used, but highly effective punch) in the first round, but Snitchin’ Randy got round 2.
Chance vs. Mr. Boston: “I’m ready to land a couple sweet punches on that cocksucker’s face.” Oh, how I wanted to see it go down that way, but Chance rather handily ate dude’s food. Bobby Kennedy’s obviously never been hit in the face before. With that said, he stood tall… even if he got knocked the fuck out of the ring like SoulCaliber.
Chance “Sorry I spit on you through my gap” Giles was feelin real big beatin up on punk ass Boston. He bodied Jay-Z and Nas… now he can add Sully to the list.
Alright, so, when we thought it couldn’t get any worse for Boston, he got cockblocked, knocked the fuck out and then eliminated when he was a tantrum away from penetrating… getting knocked the fuck out… and probably still eliminated. I’ll tell you what. I was pulling for dude until I noticed he really be diggin for fuckin gold! I never noticed the full extent of his nosepicking until last night. You gotta check that nasty fuckin finger for brain matter before you let him touch you, girl!
At least he didn’t hit the bricks without a little love. The entire room didn’t need to see the New York/Boston makeout session though… especially when he been in his nose the way he was. Ugh. I think he eats them too.
“Too bad New York missed out on the Irish Curse! That’s 2.5 inches of jackrabbit fucking fury!”
I’m gonna pour a little out for nasty-ass Lee Greenfinger today anyway. This program won’t be the same for me without him.
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Posted by Ron Mexico at February 20, 2007 11:26 AM