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NEGRO PLEASE: Terrence J Asks Rocsi How His Ass Tastes

[Editor’s Note: “Blogger’s Note” has been taken over by Ron Mexico until further notice.]

Sharing a dick sandwich isn’t as easy as Terrence J and Rocsi make it look every night.

Those of you who actually watch The Negro Channel’s piss-poor attempt at TRL are well aware of the contest winners’ hosts’ Friday Night On-Screen Bitch Fest. For the rest of us, WSHH watched and filtered the shit storm so we didn’t have to.

[Click here to see what had happented]

It was like watching 2 pigeons peck the shit out of each other in the gutter while waiting for the bus. You could be doing anything else (reading the bus schedule, listening to The Game), but you’re totally watching one pigeon fuck the other up.

No, that’s just me? Alright then… Umm… It was like watching a dogfight then. Yeah. A couple of salty bitches. That’s it.

If it wasn’t confirmed by now that these two have been fucking, there’s no more doubt. These two know each other in the Biblical sense. Not that New Testament “Don’t fuck anyone but your wife” way. I’m talking about that Old Testament “Fuck everyone and your sister. Steal on em if they complain” way.

The pigeon analogy wasn’t totally random. Rocsi is kind of a bird, but she’s nowhere near as much of one as Terrence is. That nigga’s a high-yellow ostrich. Sometimes I think I’m watching Sesame Street when this shit is on.

Instead of pinching and bargaining like Sesame Street’s target audience (pre-schoolers and stoners) Terrence should have just been straight forward and said:

Terrence J: Welcome back to 106 & Park: BET’s Top 10 Live with the livest audience in the world! *does coon dance*

Crowd: *like–totally roaring, dude*

Rocsi: If you’d like to be a contestant on Freestyle Friday this season just hit us up at freestylefriday@bet.com.

T: Actually, that’s “freestylefriday@gmail.com.” You must still not be able to see that well from when I blasted off in your eye last night.

Crowd: *collective ooooh*

R: *looks around* Yeah, you blasted off. But you ain’t gonna tell them it was before I even touched you?

Crowd: *collective oooooh*

R: *raspy voice cracking* Tell the people, Forrest.

T: You need a breath mint.

R: No, I don’t! *breathes into cupped hand* My breath is fine. I just–

T: I’m talking about your coochie.

Crowd: *collective oooooh*

T: I don’t even know why all these rappers be pressed to beat. It’s wack! Anyway. Here’s your Old School Joint of the Day, “Rocsi Got A Cank Stoochie” by DJ Quik and Suga Free.

R: *storms off stage*

T: *more coon dancing* You know how I be! Last week Rocsi couldn’t do without me! *licks tongue at camera, still cooning*

Oh, I’m just fooling. We all know Terrence doesn’t have that kind of backbone. Peep how homie storms after her at the end like a boyfriend who knows he fucked up, but still wants to save face.

That’s the purpose of the inappropriate scowl, children.

After being abandoned on-set what the hell did Terrence think New New from Hempstead was gonna say when asked such a baited question on camera? He could have ran through the entire Coming to America “hop on one foot/bark like a dog” scene if he needed to burn 30 seconds of lost Rocsi time.

Negroes, please. You’re on live [from yesterday] television.

I know that if any of us acted like baboons at work, we’d be fired. Not at BET, apparently. No one gives a damn there. So long as there’s a snap dance at the end at whatever the hell your dark butt just said or did, everything’s cool.

Rocsi should have done what the rest of us do and waited until her shift was over to bomb on dude. Can’t be lettin bitch-ass niggas fuck with your paper. Just go to the parking lot and key his car up. Prank call his crib with some results from the free clinic.

Do anything except crack corn at your place of employment.

These slave masters will do you like an NBA player and suspend you for walking off that bench.

I say BET should require a year of college and implement a dress code for its executives.

Terrence and Rocsi should settle this shit next Freestyle Friday (at gmail.com). Have DJ Khaled spin that day just to make it extra annoying. Two 45-second rounds provide more than enough time for the world to find out all it need know about Terrence’s limp dick and Rocsi’s stoochie in dire need of an Altoid.

Oh, who are we kidding? We know they’re gonna be all good and back to making out in the janitor’s closet dressing room by Throwback Thursday… or is it Weak Shit Wednesday?

I hope they both get fired. Terrance and Philip could do a better job hosting this uncle-fucking program.

Questions? Comments? Requests? Need a tutorial on “The Wonders of Sugar-Free Altoids?” ron@ronmexicocity.com

P.S.: The Sugar-Free part is reeeeeeally important.

P.P.S: She said “Ronnie Mexxx, you know anything about cars, honey?” I said “Yeah. You fill ’em up with hoes and take ’em out to the ho-stroll so they can get that money.”

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