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Brew Commentary: The New Year’s Bus


From the mind of Elphaba Of The Brew | Posted in brew commentary | Posted on 12-30-2011

I have a vivid imagination.

While some people imagine the New Year being ushered in by a lil white baby in a top hat…(Side note: Why can’t the baby be cablinasian? I mean, while the typical  imagery of sweet White Baby Jesus is all blond and Aryan -even though common sense and birth location would dictate that young babe would at least be the color of French Coffee stockings rocking a Care Free Curl-  I mean can’t the New Year’s Baby be chocolate with a bitchin’ ‘fro. Or Native American with a  silky Dominican salon blow out like the Ghost Ninja from the Black Eyed Peas?  Throw my people a celebratory bone!)

Anyway, in my mind, the New Year gets ushered in with a runaway bus. Much like the movie Speed.  Now, I usually reserve this imaginary service for the ahole that I have spent the year dating and breaking up with, but it was a slow year.   But hey, since breaks have been  cut and there’s a bomb on board, let’s use this as an opportunity to get rid of the dead weight and bad trends that have plagued us throughout the year .



Et tu, Lady Claxton? (They didn't even LIKE you)

Basketball Wives Approved Earrings.  Don’t get me wrong. I love a bold accessory. The FIRST time I saw the one who needs some pressed powder or blotting paper in them, they were festive. The second time, her whiny bluest eye homeskillet had them on, I said ‘Ooh ok, those are cute.’   But like every thing that gets over exposed and run into the ground, these were quickly played.   I wonder who is really behind these things, since you seem to get a free case of these suckers with signing on to the BBW franchise.  Why anyone would look to this group nouveau riche climbers for sartorial advice, is beyond me. But clearly there is a market,  as I have found a crapload of Youtube videos that show one how to make dirt-cheap DYI versions of these cheap-looking expensive earrings.  Booskis anytime you and your ENTIRE  crew of 30-somethings are rocking the same thing, I’mma need you to give those lobes a breather and grab a hold of your individualistic testes.



Glorifying Little Girls Singing Inappropriate Lyrics.  This ‘ish made me itch. While I appreciate a precocious  child  as much at the rest of humanity. I can’t help but cringe at these lyrics. There HAS to be some kiddie approved songs a lil ADD girl and her slightly listless totally bored hype-less homie, rocking  princess dresses and tiaras to groove to. There HAS to be.

How much for that "ginuwine" Native Amurrican tomahawk?


Bad Reality TV.  Wainaminit… let me clarify. Most reality TV is really really bad (except anything that involves Hoarders, that ish is AMAZ-ING, did you see the preview of the show with the roaches? HOLY CRAPBALLS!). Some of these shows are either mind numbingly boring or produced by Satan Himself Productions.  While I have tried to purge myself from the trife-ness of  most reality TV (I’m not even going to pretend to not be captivated by Jim Jones’ momma).  “Good” Bad reality shows are like that accident on the side of the road that you just cannot stop watching, once you start.  But for the love of sweet Blonde Baby Jesus, there are some reality shows that could have remained in the Xanax riddled mind of the bored producer.   The disgusting “Toddlers and Tiaras” comes to mind.





All Things Kardashian. I kind of feel like this is a no-brainer. Seriously, can’t we be done here? I don’t wanna see them Dancing with ‘Stars’. I don’t wanna see them pilfering their allegedly dubiously crafted fashions. I don’t want trifling ass married man bonin’ Barbara Walters, digging in the bottom of the barrel to interview them.  Look, I’m willing to even bargain. We’ll take Big Jack, she seems feisty, friendly, fun and normal. And dammit I think she’s a cutie. She even has actual FRIENDS.  But you have to keep the rest of your slags (the unmarried breeder, the plastic blowup doll and the two little ones who are trying too hard). off of my tv.  BE KGONE!



FOX NEWS.   There has to be a way to say that you dislike Obama, and his policies then getting all KKK on a Commander in Chief.  There are so many examples of this “Newsy” hate speech. Let’s just use this for example “Skinny Ghetto Crackhead”? SERIOUSLY? FOH!

Aww, ya don't see this swirl flava that often in the media!


Caring About Interracial Relationships.  A CHURCH. Where the LORD LIVES banned a couple.  A CHURCH. THE LORD’S HOUSE. THEY BANNED PEOPLE IN LOVE,FROM THE LORDS’ HOUSE. Where they do that at? Kentucky, that’s where.  In 2011, for reals?






I guess it's good for his heart...


Jonah Hill…fat skinny, it don’t matter. He’s not funny. He’s like the poor POOR man’s Seth Rogan, who is only situationally  funny.






Fro so high, can touch the sky!

Natural Hair Nazis.  Hold up, hear me out. I LOVE that we have embraced our natural state. I’ve been natural for years so I truly don’t get the big fugging deal. I mean you want a cookie for liking YOU? Actually, yea…I’d love a cookie.  I do not love that some of these blogs that I go to for tips and new product info are so weirdly divisive.  Some of the commenters are creepily fizzy-cotic about texture and what is ‘natural’ that  just turns into way to separate us as a people even further.  If we come in every shade, should we not also come in every texture? Does that make one less ‘natural’ than the other? GTFOHWTBS. If we are NOT our hair (btw, where the hell has India Arie been?) then why are we being so divisive?  Live and let perm, let a bish rock a weave a wig  a  doobie  or a dontbe. As long as it’s flattering to her and healthy looking, what’s is it to you if she’s a 4b, 3c or wd44?  Call me crazy, isn’t what’s UNDER the hair more important? Keep the information coming, but keep the weird judgement to yourselves or your shrinks.



Random Ish That Irks Me.  The word “Swagu”. The robot host on the X-Factor. Losing at Words With Friends to Gross Dude, of all people! The price of organic anything. Gwyneth Paltrow anything…but especially singing.




Aiight Brewchies, I’ve got stacks on deck and a bottle of  Mommas’s Juice on ice.

2011, you can suck it!  Bring on 2012! -Witch E., OUT!

(eh, til next week)


What say you? What  Brewshyt do you want the New Year’s Bus to destroy for a better 2012?


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