The Texas Tiger Chronicles

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

CommenTERRY - Ray Nagin, Clay Aiken, Golden Globes and SWV are fat

I'm having decaf. And you?

Mood: Focused. I know where I am going and I know where I have been. And I am still Terry from the block.

Mode: Just some regular low-rise jeans with a grey and red v-neck sweater. I threw on my wool STRUCTURE trench coat and some Banana Republic loafers. I selected a wool grey hat today that matches the shirt as we are anticipating rain today in New York and I’d like to be prepared. And I am rocking glasses. Looking very studious.

Motif: Is God mad at America? (I cannot take credit for this extremely thought-provoking question. The honor goes to New Orleans mayor Ray Nagin, who I am sure will be looking for another job as soon as he is up for election. Sitting at home last night next to the heater as the New York evening was quite chilly, I thought about the series of hurricanes that have plagued the US. And about the mudslides in California. And the mining accident. The disappearance of Nancy Holloway. And how the Golden Globes tragically snubbed Nicollete Sheridan. And I pondered the realization that we might be under attack. When I saw Mayor Nagin on the FOX News Channel speaking with such venom and fire and brimstone about the tragedies of Hurricane Katrina and his plans to restore to New Orleans back to the great chocolate city it once was with the nation’s highest murder rates, dilapidated ghettoes and proliferation of gold teeth it just gave me the chills. I said to myself, this is what Martin Luther King’s dream was about. And for Nagin to give this speech on MLK day, how appropriate.



Munchies: I have been eating a lot of fresh fruit lately. Today I ate a batch of grapes (the whole vine), some watermelon, pineapple and a few orange slices.

Last night my best friend Bobby Brown Jr. honored me with his presence and his visit turned into an impromptu sleepover with us eating pizza and watching American Idol in our PJs. Sometimes I feel like I am the only man in America who wears pajamas as most people I quiz tend to go nude. In Chicago. In New York. In DC. Knowing its 15 degrees outside and you are inside naked just baffles me. I wear PJs in the summer. I also sleep with an electric blanket on my bed cause I like warm my sheets. A cold bed is a pet peeve of mine. I need heat in the summer and fall. Artificial will do, until natural comes along.

The highlight of the evening was when my roommate Claudine came home and gave me and Bobby an impromptu belly-dance. Claudine is very-European and speaks several languages. We often have these very intense conversations at 3:30 in the morning in front of the refrigerator as we both have a love for food and most importantly, we treat ourselves to cupcakes and ice cream in the wee hours of the morning. If I began to tell you about the late nights and early mornings me and Claudine have met in the kitchen to dish the dish on love, life and fantasy over Pepperidge Farm Milano cookies and Baskin & Robbins ice cream you would think I was describing a pilot for a very twisted episode of Will and Grace meets the Golden Girls. But I adore Claudine. All of my friends do. With her accent (which is so trendy in New York) and her fiery personality and talkative nature. She is a voluptuous redhead, very Lindsay Lohan before the Columbian marching powder and her two index fingers got the best of her.

But it was a sight to behold as Claudine strapped on a golden belt full of flittery shingles and noise-makers. In a black halter top with her breasts pushed up and out thanks to a newly purchased trinket from Victoria’s Secret, Claudine gave us a shimmy and a shingle which made me break into an impromptu rendition of that new Negro spiritual “Won’t you come over and check up on it, I’ma let you check up on it, dip it pop it check it stop it, check on me tonight.”

SIDEBAR: I gotta get me a gold shimmy belt. It was VERY cute for about a good 15mins. HOWEVER, 30-mins later I had to tip-toe over to Claudine’s bedroom and ask her to take that damn belt off cause she was starting to wear me out like an Ashanti remix. It’s REALLY hot the first time you hear it. Then once you get into it, you’ll be like, “Um. I pass. Next station on the dial please….”

A few days ago I had the pleasure of seeing John Lithgow in his very last performance in the Broadway musical Dirty Rotten Scoundrels. I accompanied three of my African-American friends and as we entered the theater I looked around and the entire audience (save the four of us) seemed White, Jewish and over 55. And for the first time in the 18 months I have lived in New York, I FINALLY felt like I belonged. These are my people. I began to sing a very mellow rendition of the Broadway show-stopper “Home” to myself (Diana’s version from the Wiz, not Stephanie’s version from the show – cause that is a whole other emotion.).





The show was amazing and I ended the evening by going to the Juan Valdez Café in the center of Times Square where I ordered a chocolate nevado. Let me testify about the chocolate nevado.






First giving reverence to God who is the head of my life. My pastor IV Hilliard in his absence, members, visitors, backsliders, drop-ins and other Christian friends. One day I was walking down Broadway and I noticed a new coffeeshop. Now I have been loyal to Starbucks up until this point so I resisted temptation the first day. But the sprit was heavy on my soul and something spoke to my in a quite voice. It was that same quiet voice that spoke so eloquently to Karen Clark Sheard on “He loves me” as she answered herself over and over again in five octaves. And that little voice told me to go in and order something sweet and chocolate. Usually I fill those kinds of orders in online chat rooms, much like Clay Aiken, but today I wanted a more personal connection. Iesha, my coffee specialist, told me that I would love the nevado after I told her what my heart desired. And let me tell you. It was an experience. It was so chocolaty. So smooth. So rich. So creamy. Like velvet on my throat. I had never experienced anything like it. Well….actually I have but, I didn’t know you could get this feeling from coffee too.


The chocolate nevado runs RINGS around any Mochiatto, Cappucino, or any other –iatto/cino that I had sipped on at the other place. I am now a loyal devotee to Juan.

This is not the first Juan in my life. There was Juan Carlo. I hope this lasts longer.

There has been so much happening. In New York. In LA. In Paris. In all the meccas of life and love and art and culture. It’s time we catch up with our celebrity friends. Our cousins. Those friends we love and hate. We go through their pain. We share their joy. We suffer the breakups, the makeups and the hookups. We are pregnant, we are no longer engaged, we are overcoming bulimia, we are hooking up with African American Oscar-winners, and we are ordering up chocolate trade to satisfy those nights of idol-boredom. In case you missed what was going on in your family, here’s an update:

BLIND ITEM COMMENTERRY
(courtesy pf NY Post’s Page Six)

"WHICH pop-singing sensation likes to troll the Internet for gay quickies? After one unsafe session, his homo hook-up contacted a tabloid to sell his sordid story and offered a DNA-encrusted washcloth as proof. If the truth comes out, the singing idol's fans, mostly middle-aged housewives, will be very upset ."

SIDEBAR: Unsafe sex? Not the non-threatening asexual christian 2006 version of Barry Manilow! You aren’t having sex in Iowa anymore. When you have sex in the city you have two strap on two or three of those things.

Mr. Clive Davis, I saw what you did for Whitney. You took her out of the projects
of New Jersey and convinced the world that she was a bourgeoisie princess when she was really ghetto queen. And we thank you. Now, can you please do another intervention? Take our friend and teach him the lesson that Tevin Campbell didn’t get.





When you are a famous queen, you have to hire HIGH quality trade who won’t sell your secrets. That means NO bathrooms, no parties and NO internet. Isn’t there like a gay Heidi Fleiss out there? I mean, how did Eddie meet Johnny? (Allegedly).

Well one thing is for sure, for any enterprising businessmen out there, there is obviously an untapped market for high quality male trade. Anytime our celebrities have to reach into the dumps of common-folk desperation and troll Craigslist.com for dates…there is a void that MUST be filled. For all of you looking to expand your business portfolios get started! www.smallbusinessloans.com

QUEEN OF HIP-HOP SOUL GETS GULLY WITH PETA

Mary J Blige warns animal activists to leave her coat alone

Soul singer Mary J Blige has warned animal rights campaigners to steer clear of dousing her in paint, because she insists it's her right to wear fur if she wants.

The No More Drama star is a fan of coats made from animal skin and refuses to adhere to the concerns of animal activists, including People For The Ethical Treatment Of Animals (PETA).

She says, "Those PETA people don't want to mess with me, they don't want to throw paint on my coat because it's not just going to be throwing paint. It's going to be Mary in the news the next day, you know what I mean?

"What gives them the right to destroy someone's coat because their opinion is that you shouldn't wear animals? Understand what I'm saying?"

SIDEBAR: We understand loud and clear. Mary J. Blige is NOT Joan Rivers or Anna Wintour. Throw some paint on this chinchilla and the bamboo earrings from the cover of the Breakthrough album are coming off. She will be tying up the long golden weave-braids from the My Life Album. Taking off the white Fendi sunglasses from Share My World. Pulling a razor from underneath the hat that hid her eyes from us on What’s the 411? And then carving a niche in some PETA A$$ to match the scar she bared for us on the MARY album. She told you No More Drama but don’t take a chick back to the hood. Religion will not save you from a good knife fight.


RAIN Pryor follows in Dad’s comedic steps


SHE doesn't have the comedic chops of her legendary dad, but that didn't stop Rain Pryor from trying to crack up the crowd at Caroline's on Broadway last weekend. Richard Pryor's daughter, describing her mixed ethnicity during a surprise set, said her father had a weakness for white women. "It's called WWD," she quipped. "White Women's Disease. My father loved white women. O.J. Simpson loved white women. And Michael Jackson is one." IT doesn't sound possible, but Chanel managed to turn Reese Witherspoon into a fashion victim at the Golden Globes.

Reese Witherspoon SWEARS off Chanel for good!

Witherspoon, who won Best Actress for "Walk the Line," wore a white-and-silver "vintage" Chanel dress - only to find out it was a mere 3 years old and that Kirsten Dunst wore the same frock to Globes after-parties back in 2003. Whoops!

Witherspoon's rep, Nancy Ryder, is said to be so angry at Chanel for giving her a recently recycled gown that she's vowing not to accept anything from Chanel again - or let her other clients, including Jennifer Lopez and Renée Zellweger, wear anything from the French couture house.

Ryder said, "Reese was told the dress was vintage. It was not. I'm not angry - just a little disappointed, but the big deal is Reese won the Golden Globe."


Mizrahi touches the Golden Globes

E! is said to be looking askance at its new red carpet commentator Isaac Mizrahi after he grabbed Teri Hatcher and Scarlett Johansson's breasts and asked Eva Longoria about her bikini wax. "It was odd and uncomfortable," sniffed one TV veteran.

Melissa Rivers likes her goodies

Melissa Rivers, on assignment for the TV Guide Channel, went ga-ga for a Globes goodie bag. Joan Rivers' daughter, who looks like she loves plastic surgery as much as mom does, tried to wheedle a bag, worth up to $60,000, from the staff at the Beverly Hilton. Quipped a wag, "One gift was a $1,000 certificate for plastic surgery - I wonder if that's why she wanted it so badly."

An EVA and a FOXX

Longoria and Jamie Foxx showed up together at CAA's after-party at L.A. hot spot Chaya. But despite Internet reports of them tongue-kissing, Longoria's pals swear it never happened, and that lovely Longoria is still with San Antonio Spur Tony Parker.

But Longoria and Foxx were spotted later at Prince's post-post-Globes party at the pint-size funkster's Beverly Hills mansion. Prince played his guitar to the delight of partygoers while Sheila E. performed with a salsa band. Peter Jackson, Mary J. Blige, Mariah Carey, Sanaa Lathan, Terrence Howard, Chris Rock, Jessica Simpson and Adrian Brody were among the revelers.


INSATIABLE supermodel Kate Moss can't be stopped. Just days after her wild night of pole dancing at Scores with Lindsay Lohan, Moss celebrated her 32nd birthday at her house in Malibu on Monday night - and partygoers report the revelry went well into the wee hours. Guests included oodles of "bad boy" types, but no word if Kate's latest squeeze, model-turned-songwriter Jamie Burke, was there. Moss - whose last boyfriend, junkie rocker Pete Doherty was arrested again this week in London for cocaine and heroin possession - couldn't have been happy when Aussie papers claimed Burke has a live-in girlfriend, model Jessie Leonard.


GAY is the new Black

With "Transamer ica" 's Felicity Huffman getting Best Actress and "Brokeback Mountain" getting Best Picture, get it straight. Gay is in.




OVERHEARD in Beverly Hills.
(courtesy of Cindy Adams)

First gal: "Who has the most thankless job?" Second gal: "The writer of Streisand's Web site editorials. Barbra doesn't do them herself. Just rants her anti-administration ideas, and this other lady whom I know shapes them."


JESSICA Weiner, who kicked an eat ing disorder, has written the slim vol ume, "Do I Look Fat in This?" Now, if you're already not already up to your windpipe reading diet dreck about the vanishing Lindsay Lohan and Nicole Richie, she says:

"Shrinking Hollywoodites, proud they're under 100 pounds, affect celebrity-obsessed teenagers. Kids who don't know the secretary of defense can name every character on 'Desperate Housewives.' Body hatred now impacts over 10 million women who speak a secret language of fat that masks other feelings. Easier to compare the size of their thighs than confront a co-worker, handle a spouse or deal with a mother."




BOBBY WHITNEY. Has the blunt’s flames gone out in their ashtray of love?

Word on the street is that the namesake of Being Bobby Brown has been telling his friends that he and part-time lesbian, Whitney Houston, are putting an end to their 14-year marriage. (SIDEBAR: Lesbian is such a loaded word. And I didn’t use it, the “source” said so.)

The weekend before last, during a visit to the Foxwoods Casino in Mashantucket, Conn., Brown was spotted trying to get his game on with some eager sluts.

"While flirting with a bunch of women, they asked, 'What's up with your wife?' Bobby said, 'We ain't together no more. We're getting a divorce,' " says a witness.

The 90s are back! And they are fat!

New Edition aren't the only R&B artists on the comeback trail: Keith Sweat, Guy and En Vogue also performed at "Body & Soul." Guy announced onstage that they will have a new LP out this year and it looks like En Vogue will be following suit: The Funky Divas performed a brand-new single at the show. For the most part, all of the "Body and Soul" performers look the same as they did a decade ago, and their voices stand the test of time well.

On a related note, SWV were not at "Body & Soul" but have been performing dates with Keith Sweat and Guy. They also have plans to release new material this year: an SWV LP and a solo gospel project from group member Coko.

SIDEBAR: Everybody is selling chunky. SWV are the NEW Clark Sisters.

WHAT IS THE POINT OF THE TEXAS TIGER CHRONICLES?
(summed up by this quote)

'I HATE to spread rumors - but what else can one do with them?" asks performer Amanda Lear.





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