"Bobby Brown, Whitney Houston's Husband": Being Bobby Brown Episode 3

Niggerdom 201: 'Dude, where's my rumored extremely large penis?', Or, 13 Ways of Emasculating a Black Man**

(2 points if you got the '13 ways...' literary reference without googling it.)

Though it wasn't abundantly clear if Mr. Brown--our nig--was still on probation, he and the rest of the crew jumped the pond and headed to London, England for episode three. (Our guess is hitting up jolly old England for a spot of tea, and some shopping at Harrods had to be some sort of probation violation. If you recall: just like a party ain't a party unless it's ran all through, a nig ain't a nig unless he's breaking the law...with his crew. Please forgive that wack ass rhyme, but it seemed appropriate at the time. Oops, I did it again!!) Anyway, as we observe our nig and co. during their London vacation, one quickly realizes that the word for the day will be emasculation. Can you say that, kids? EEEEE-MASK-YOU-LAY-SHUN. Very good!

"What time is it? Ice!"
In the first part of Observation 007, our nig heads to the jewelry store for some bling. Perhaps due to the swelling crowd outside of the building, and/or perhaps, the presence of his mate, niggerous ghettois diva (also waiting outside of the store; similar to a mother parked in front of the movie theater in the mini-van waiting for her too-young-to-drive child to emerge from the 8:00 flick), the jewelers seemingly recognize our nig as a subject that must sing or dance or play ball. They allow our nig to place an extremely decadent and expensive watch just above his left paw. I believe our nig's species would describe the timepiece as "iced" and/or "blinged out". We don't suppose it a stretch to argue that our nig's wrist was "frozen" as the hippity hoppers like to say. Immediately, as if our nig had just buried his teeth into a chicken leg with gobs and gobs of hot sauce, his eyes light up, clearly impressed with how the watch looks strapped around his arm. His speech seems even more grammatically incorrect than usual, "Must...have...watch...now." Excitedly, our nig walks out of the store to show his waiting mate.

Now technically, that's theft. But what's important in this particular instance are two things. First, our nig must persuade his wife to give him the money for the watch. She, however, looks unimpressed, giving our nig that "Put it back now. I thought I told you not to touch anything," look one often sees when this female species is maneuvering through department and grocery stores with her young. But the rejection doesn't end there--absolutely not. With the quickness of a cheetah surreptitiously waiting to get her paws and fangs around an unsuspecting wildebeest at the watering hole, our nig's mate told him not once, but twice, "That looks like a female's watch."

Ouch. Something just went flaccid.

"She's a Brown!"
After the jewelry store disappointment, our nig and his family visit a department store to do some garment shopping. As they stroll through the store--the female, as always, steps ahead of our nig--Mr. Brown tells retail representatives to wrap up extra large shirts in every color. Though smiling, the employees don't budge. Also ignoring our nig's antics, the female concentrates on buying the young female some new clothes. If it wasn't evident by the picture in last week's post, it should be formally noted that our nig's child with ghettois diva is a bit on the pudgy side. Make that chunky. As our nig waits, ghettois diva tosses jeans and such over the dressing room door, instructing (yeah, like parenting) young female nig to "try these on." While they wait, our nig and his mate discuss young female nig's plumpness. Our nig, mistaking his offspring's size for that highly desired "thickness" males of his species enjoy in a potential mate, concludes that the "junk in her trunk" must come from his genetic material. She is, as our nig puts it, "a Brown." Yet his female mate, quite feisty and seemingly more intelligent mumbles, "Well, if she was a Houston..." the youngin' might not have such issues when trying to find garments to fit her frame.

Ouch. Kids, our second word of the day is matrilineage. Can you say matrilineage? MAT-TRI-LIN-EE-AJ. Very good.

Now what does ghettois diva's loaded statement imply in a much more general sense? Well let's see. 1) Slavery. Oh yes, friends. There was a time when the nig's species were what we like to call slaves. As slaves, they were the property of the aforementioned white man--the species that often still misrecognizes nigs as individuals. All slaves and their offspring "took" said white man's surname, even if he hadn't (in certain cases) impregnated the female species with his own sperm, he still got to name the offspring (affectionately known as pickaninnies), leaving the male nig out in the cotton fields.

Now what else? Ahh, yes: the baby daddy factor. This is a colloquial term for having young nig children out of wedlock. See, along with being a criminal, the nig is often considered an absent father. As a result, his children often take the female's last name, because hey, if he's not going to pay for the diapers, why would one give him the glory of having children with his last name? In some places, this might not be such a problem. Yet, as our friend Mr. Moynihan pointed out so many years ago, to pass on the mother's name in a white [racist] patriarchal society is antithetical to America (or American-ness) as we know it, thus putting all nigs on the bottom of the social totem pole.

So when our ghettois diva literarily challenges the pedigree of our nig's genetic material?

Well, let's just say, we wouldn't have been surprised if there was a little puddle in between our nig's legs.

"Mr. Lama! Mr. Lama!"

While in England, our nig had the fortune of running into the Dalai Lama, spiritual leader of the Tibetan people. And, well, after our nig maneuvers through the crowd, he and an anonymous underling are able to stop the Dalai Lama and introduce themselves:

"Mr. Lama! Mr. Lama!" our nig screams. "I'm Bobby Brown."

Uh...

Mr. Lama stares back at our nig, but not in that, "I'm old and didn't hear half of what you said" type-way. But rather in a "Who is this nig? Usher? P. Diddy?" type-way.

Our nig's underling steps in, yelling in Mr. Lama's ear to ensure he's heard. "Mr. Lama! This is Bobby Brown."

Nothing.

"Bobby Brown! Whitney Houston's husband."

What's that? An acknowledgement by Mr. Lama?

Shrinkage.

"I do act like I got kids!"

After a long day, our inebriated nig, returns to his mate already winding down in their hotel room. It seems that the "Ike and Tina-like" banter is for more than just dinner time. In fact, the tete-a-tete in which they engage, which probably rouses (not arouses, but rouses) not only their offspring but neighboring guests of their upscale hotel, seems to be the prelude to some fiery pillow talk. Whatever the case, our drunken nig is told by his mate that he acts as if he has no children.

Wow. Now whatever could our phallis-slayer mean by this? Is she suggesting that our nig is a baby boy?

I don't know, but maybe someone's been shooting blanks during those "festivities was on" sessions.

Until next time...

TO REVIEW

1. "Nick Cannon got your school clothes money.": Will Bobby Brown get his penis back? Our magic 8-ball says, "As soon as he gets another hit. Hit song, that is."
2. Bobby Kris walks around with a teddy bear. I think she's about 12. This would be a problem, but the bear seems to be more of a parent than Bobby and/or Whitney.
3. If you ever meet Bobby Brown and want to get money from him, your best bet is to throw a couple tracks (that's a weave, y'all) in your hair, and feed him some line about having kids and no rent money. After he breaks you off a bill or two, tell him some shit about showing your gratitude in a motel room. Since the cameras are rolling, odds are he won't bite.
4. Somehow Francis Cress Welsing lurks in this post. That makes me shitty.
5. Bobby Brown is an alcoholic. Whitney Houston, however, isn't.

By Summer M. (Fort Wayne's Own Fecundmellow)

N.B.: All inquiries submitted by commenters (such as: What type of adult will Bobby Kris become?) Will be addressed at the end of the season. Keep those questions coming. We're not experts, but we play them on tv.