Plenty of people are already vying for ClashRadio.com’s Punk of the Year Award, but Chris Brown is screaming to the top of the list. This tool is an OJ in waiting.
You guys know who Chris Brown is, don’t ‘cha? He’s a young, black hip hop “artist” who wears diamond stud earrings, tennis bracelets and recently beat up his gorgeous girlfriend, recording artist Rihanna, after she caught him arranging a booty call with “a ho from another zip code.” What a winner, eh? I’m sure George W. Bush, Sean Hannity, Rush Limbaugh and the Religious Right are somehow to blame for Brown’s bad behavior.
Don’t you just love hip hop culture with their clunky Ebonics rhymes about bitches, ho’s, weed, cop killers, weed, drugs, hoochie mamas, weed, gangbangers, ho’s, bitches, hoochie mama’s and weed? It’s truly one of the most positive and wonderful things about our society (cough). I wonder who the various hip hop artists voted for in the last presidential election. They look conservative, don’t they? They don’t? That’s weird.
Y’know, nothing—and I mean nothing, Chris—says you’re a tough guy like wearing shiny Nikes, costume jewelry and smacking around a dainty girl. For my readers, if you go over to TMZ.com you will see the police photos of what he did to his “girlfriend.” If you have a lick of sense and an ounce of civility after viewing said photos, you will experience what I like to call . . . “getting PO’ed.”
Metrosexual extraordinaire Chris Brown bit Rihanna’s fingers, ear, busted her lips, blackened her eyes, bruised the side of her face and tried to shove her out of a moving car but couldn’t because she was belted in.
Where I hail from (the great nation of Texas) men don’t do that to women, but the guys dumb enough to usually get the stuffing beat out of them by the girl’s dad or brothers—or both. After that near-death butt kickin’ administered to the girl-abusing loser by chivalrous men who love the women in their lives, the wussy would then proceed on to prison where he’d become the abused girlfriend of several randy inmates. It’s called jailhouse justice. And I like it.
Two staggering occurrences happened after this Grammy night pummeling of Rihanna by Brown the wuss clown. One, Rihanna got back with this helix misser, and two, her father is cool with it. I do not, cannot, and—if I could—would not understand either her actions or those of her father.