New Music Video: iLoveMakonnen feat. Drake, “Tuesday”

And today is Tuesday. What a coincidence.

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This Hilarious Love and Hip Hop Hollywood Parody Will Slay You

Have you been watching Love and Hip Hop? Of course you have. The entire franchise is the train wreck that you can’t seem to look away from. And even though the show is probably setting the race back by several generations, nobody can resist the zany hijinks of this all-star* cast.

As if the show wasn’t already (unintentionally) hilarious enough, LAFF MOBB has blessed us with a hysterical parody of Love and Hip Hop Hollywood. They do all of the characters SO dirty, especially poor lil Nia Riley.

“She’s so independent, I didn’t even have to help her make her daughter!”

Watch for yourself, and try not to pee your pants.

*Ha!

Despite What Your Grandma Says, Chances Are, You Are NOT 1/8th Cherokee

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So you say you’ve got some Indian in your family? You’re not alone. The Native American great great great grandmother/grandfather is a huge part of Black American oral tradition. But not so fast, says a Professor of African American Studies at Harvard University. In what amounts to the most explosive DNA revelation since paternity testing on the Maury show, Professor Skip Gates explains the historical reasons why, according to his article on The Root, most African Americans, many of whom strongly self identify as Native American, are less than 2% Native American.
Gates discusses his own experience with this genetic revelation after appearing on an episode of African American Lives.

I wish you could have seen my inbox the morning after the episode of African American Lives aired in 2008, in which we revealed my genetic admixture. To my own surprise, I have to confess, the results showed that I had a surprisingly high amount of European ancestry (50.5 percent) but only 0.8 percent Native American ancestry. (I am 48.2 percent sub-Saharan African.) No one seemed to mind all that white ancestry, but the low level of Native American ancestry caused something of a family crisis. I thought my computer was going to explode. I didn’t realize I had so many cousins who were so deeply committed to being “part Indian.” And the venom those emails contained! These were some very angry cousins.
“Skippy, how could you embarrass our family like that, in front of the nation?” ran one line of attack, while another questioned the accuracy of the tests. “That test is one big fat lie.” After all, Big Mom herself had told us all about her Indian ancestry, and how could “science” be more authoritative than Big Mom, your own grandmother. Boy.

Despite the backlash, the genetic evidence was undeniable.

The average African American is 73 percent sub-Saharan, 24 percent European and only 0.7 percent Native American. So, most of us have quite a lot of European ancestry and very, very little Native American ancestry. And if this Native American DNA came from exactly one ancestor, it surfaced in our family trees quite a long time ago—on average, perhaps as many as 10 generations, or 300 years, ago, which means about 1714.

According to historians, this is because after around 1715, interactions between black slaves and Native Americans became increasingly limited as fewer Indians were being held as slaves, and Native tribes were being pushed further and further away from the the colonies, giving them fewer opportunities to procreate with blacks.

Full story: http://www.theroot.com/articles/history/2014/04/why_most_black_people_aren_t_part_indian.1.html

Fall Fans: Trader Joe’s Has Every Pumpkin Item You Can Think Of

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Photo Credit: Sandra Song; Image Source: Gothamist

You love pumpkin flavor. That sweet, robust flavor is pretty much the only thing that keeps you from diving into the depths of depression as you watch the glorious warmth of summer deteriorate into a frigid cesspool of dirty, yellow-stained snow.  Lucky for you, the folks over at Gothamist have documented, in detail, every pumpkin item for sale at Trader Joe’s, your one stop shop for quirky fall eats. On the list, you will find the classics, like pumpkin pie and actual pumpkins, as well as more questionable picks, like pumpkin yogurt and pumpkin dog treats. Enjoy!

Full Story: http://gothamist.com/2014/10/01/pumpkin_trader_joes.php#photo-1

To The Left, To The Right: Inside the Mind of a Male Tinder User

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Image Source: Adweek.com

The dating game is a dance as old as time. You go out to a bar or party. If you’re lucky, you meet someone, and there is a mutual attraction. You go on a date, things go further, or they don’t. Before technology, the process of meeting someone could take quite a while. Just think of all the times you have gone out to a party, took a look around, and immediately said, “Nope.”

However, for those who are brave enough to attempt online dating, there is an app called Tinder, which has been around for about two years, but has picked up a lot of steam in the past few months. Tinder provides the user with the basic profiles of men or women in their area, and allows them to swipe right for “yes” (as in yes, I like you, and I want you) or left for “nope” (everyone knows what nope means). Mutual swipes are notified of each other’s existence.

Tonight, I met up with an old friend who was visiting from out of town. After asking if I had any single friends who may be looking for some fun (of which I could think of none), he said that he would now have to resort to Tinder if he wanted to meet women over his trip. While I am familiar with what Tinder is, I have never actually seen it used. Naturally, I asked if I could observe as he swiped. He obliged.

The swiping movements were lightening fast. Each left swipe got no more than .25 seconds of consideration, before a large, rude “NOPE” was stamped across the woman’s picture, and she disappeared forever into the ether. It was barely enough time to fully see their faces. There was no reading of the profile for these girls. No consideration of whether she was curing cancer, had written the great American novel, or if she was a fantastic cook. That’s not what Tinder is about.

Every once in a while, he would come across a woman who caught his attention. Interestingly, the more revealing photos did not seem more likely to earn a yes from him. Most of the girls he chose were girls who showed only their faces. Once a face captured his attention, he began to read their profile. “I enjoy going out and being active,” exclaimed a cute redhead, who had posted a picture of herself hiking a canyon.

“Sounds like she wants to climb my dick,” he decided. Swipe right.

Women in their thirties were also given priority over women in their early twenties. “Women in their thirties know what they like,” he explained. As someone who was only in town for a few days, he emphasized that he did not have enough time to go through a courtship that may require two or more dates.  He wanted to get straight down to the business of a mutually beneficial sexual relationship, and was looking for women who were similarly situated.

“I’m very disappointed with the quality,” he said as his thumb passed quickly to the left side of his touch screen. “I expected better.” The girls looked perfectly cute to me, but then again, I wasn’t looking for someone to take home with me.

Even though I knew that the girls had no way of knowing how quickly they had been ‘noped,’ I could not help but feel sorry for them. After all, these girls had posted their prettiest pics, tried their best to sound fun/interesting, and had done their best to present the most compelling version of themselves. But still, regardless of whether they were seeking meaningful relationships or just quick hookups, all of this effort was only worth a quarter of a second’s consideration. After all, even the most ambitious guy can’t fuck the whole city, and New York is full of women to swipe past.

As my friend and I parted ways, I told him to let me know if any of his Tinder swipes turned into dates, and he said he would. As I walked on, I felt strangely relieved to know that nobody would be swiping left on my picture somewhere in the city tonight. But then again, nobody would be swiping right either. So maybe it is the Tinder girls, who had the balls to put themselves out there in this brutal and superficial dating world, who ought to feel sorry for me.

Or nah.