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2009 BET Awards Notes and Observations

I know. I know. It’s Michael Jackson holiday weekend extended, which means I must suspend my quest of… holding our beloved negro music to Michael Jackson standards.

Like I give a fuck who catches feelings.

The funniest shit about the 2009 BET Awards is that Michael Jackson wasn’t even invited until he died. Sure, he was the butt of millions of jokes minutes before he passed away–and as he was dying–but, the world successfully stopped turning for a weekend after he finally did. Niggas are funny like that, I guess. With that said, The Negro Channel did a great job on such short notice to pay tribute to possibly the greatest musical performer of all time.

Yes, that is a compliment. Sometimes I do that in print. Sometimes you see shit streak across the sky at night. Eh.

Without taking away from the effort of Debra Lee-vil and her demonic horde, here are some of my thoughts from the 2009 BET Awards as they occurred:

New Edition’s Jackson 5 tribute opening should never have happened. Sure, it was thrown together on short notice, but Mike deserves better than Ralph Tresvant sounding like the fucking Cryptkeeper. I saw NE on tour a couple years ago with my mother. I wondered why Tresvant wasn’t there. Now I wonder why he was excavated to brutalize a medley of Jackson tunes.

They gave LeBron James “Best Male Athlete”. I don’t know who the other nominees were. They didn’t start announcing nominees until the program was damn near over. I don’t watch TNC enough to know who they’re diggin like that, nor do I care. I do wonder if LeBron expected handshakes from the losing nominees as he does his losing on-court opponents. James mentioned appreciating everything Michael Jackson did for basketball. I too remember whem MJ ran the point for Indiana State between European tours. The nigga was money.

What else can I say about Ginuwine that hasn’t been said about Shemar Moore? Oh, I know. Michael Jackson inspired Ginuwine to buy a suit from Joe Jackson’s yardsale. I know y’all seent that shit. Either Ginuwine is a closet Jamaican, or that suit is out of John Witherspoon’s forthcoming “Detroit Johnny” collection.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Cooooooordinate.

What was the purpose of Snoop Dogg’s presence during the “Blame It” performance? Nigga was holding a mic and everything. As if Snoopy blames anything on the alcohol. I bet he don’t even drink. We know what Snoopy do.

For those of you watching the BET Awards-ternt-Michael Jackson tribute wondering exactly how far pop music has fallen in the past 20 years, I present Soulja Boy!

[Blogger's Note: The caption "Soulja Boy Performan's..." is a new low even for WSHH.]

Beyonce done roamed into Bjork territory. If anyone understands what they saw from her performance, please let a nigga know. My interpretation is that she morphed from a young, sheltered princess into a jellyfish carnival tilt-a-whirl… for Michael, of course.

It was nice to see Monica back on TV for non-C-Murder-related reasons. That’s what’s up, baby! Keyshia Cole’s hair and makeup looked better than ever. Despite keeping Frankie F. Baby off the stage for once, her aura survived in Keyshia’s wardrobe. Somebody high put that shit together. Monica, on the other hand, came out there lookin like she was about to bust Mega Man’s ASS.

Watching Don Cornelius struggle out there really hurt my heart. It’s the only thing about the awards I cared to tweet about. Somebody could’ve raised that fuckin mic stand for Don Cornelius! Damn. The nigga is like 7 feet tall and they had that mic stand set to “Jermaine Dupri”. They had a performance between his retirement home rambles and, still no one raised his shit. That’s about some shiftless nigga shit if I ever seen.

The biggest winners have to be the BET makeup crew. They did a miraculous job on Tevin Campbell. Last time I saw that nigga he looked like medical waste. You couldn’t see nary a lesion or coke crater last night. They must have had Tyra’s staff on that.

Vaseline is a hell of a drug.

Speaking of shiny, greasy niggas incessantly followed by gay rumors, either Johnny Gill was high as hell or his liver’s about to give out. His eyes were glassier than Don’s shits.

Eddie Levert talking about niggas “dancing and shit” on live television = greatness. “My name is Eddie. This is what I do.” = Eddie Levert FTW!

Here’s some crazy shit. Don Cornelius outlived Michael Jackson. Eddie Levert outlived Gerald and Sean.

I liked this Maxwell nigga better when he was a hippie. Why did he have had to get all clean and shit? His music was more powerful when he looked like he showered in patchouli and considered brushing between blunts optional. Obama gets elected and now we got this one in his best Mens Wearhouse suit lookin like he runnin for president of Palmer’s Cocoa Butter.

Let’s not play the game, people.

Questions? Comments? Requests? Let’s get [even more] ratchet.

P.S: Coon.

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