Dear Kanye West…
Y’all already know my fondness of letters, and just as I poured my heart out in thanks of the Hat’s Aretha (it is no longer Aretha’s Hat. The hat is now so awesome, that it is considered the owner of Aretha, instead of the other way around), I’m writing a 4-page letter to Mr. West (but I ain’t enclose it with a kiss).
Dear KanYe (is the Y capitalized or not?),
I’m concerned. About you. Let’s talk about it. I know you’ve had a VERY rough year and a half, with your Mom’s passing (RIP Dr. Donda West). She was your biggest supporter (I LOVE “Hey Mama” and lost my voice singing it when you came to U. of Illinois for the concert), and CLEARLY the love of your life. Then, you broke up with your perpetually ornery fiancee, Alexis. The wench ain’t NEVER smile. She wouldn’t smile at a Unicorn Ranch located on some fluffy clouds and made up of chocolate and caramel. What was up with that? I mean, is life perusing the world and going to fashion shows REALLY that tough? She looks like she wakes up and pisses gloom. Loosen up, damn!
Oh where was I? Ah yesss… anyway. You’ve lost the two most important people to you in these past 18 months, and your world has probably been turned upside down. I understand. This has clearly affected your life, and I can see that in certain things you’ve done.
1. You recorded 808s and Heartbreak. I’ve only heard a couple of songs on it but you seem to have convinced yourself that it is okay for you to SING actual songs… and then record them… and then release them to the world to be archived in our permanent memories. This is not okay. Please leave the singing to people who can. You singing is like:
- Rodney Dangerfield releasing a rap album (which he did. But we musn’t speak of it too much)
- Hootie & the Blowfish playing at a Black History Month Event
- LisaRaye playing a non-sassy, neck-snapping character
2. You showed up at the Grammy’s looking like you wanted to be beamed up in that aluminum jacket. PLUS, you had the unmitigated GALL to rock a shag mullet. This REALLY perplexed me to no end. iCant. Recalling it just infuriates me. It’s like you went to the barber and say “F*ck up my hair as much as you can.” and he passed (or failed with FLYING colors, which incidentally, got transferred to…).
3. Your crew and their technicolor dreamcoats looking faces. Are these the riff raffs you choose to surround yourself with? There are just many reasons I have a problem with this visual I saw of your Posse. Together, y’all look like extras from that old low budget show “Homeboys in Outer Space”. Where is Flex Washington??? The most non-matchinest group of people I’ve seen in a minute! I’ve seen less colors on a color wheel than in this picture. And honestly, none of you fellas in this picture look like you welcome or enjoy the female touch (Not that there’s anything wrong with that aka NTTAWWT).
4. Your new girl, Amber is an ex-stripper lesbian chick that looks like a walking pencil who’s eraser has been used up. Ok, I’m hating. Actually, the chick is FIERCE! Her face is stunning, and that blond fade works for her somehow (No Boy George). But how is her CHARACTER, ‘Ye? (I can hear all the men saying “EFF her character! She’s FINE!!!”)
Of all the women in the industry, that’s who you could attach yourself to? I been thought something about her just don’t… just don’t curl all the way over. Then finding out that she’s a lesbian who has a scorned stud of an Ex girlfriend in Brooklyn made me go MMHMMM!! (Btw: Stud lesbians kinda scare me. Like for real.)
Iunno, Yizzle. You just seem to be acting out lately. I just wanna hold you in my bosom and say everything will be okay. Drop the shag mullet haircut, go hang with a crew that can’t be called the “Ambiguously Wack Posse”, release an actual rap album and don’t become enamored with the likes of Amber Rose (ya know, TALL women.). Pocket Straights (a small man you just want to put in your pocket and take places with you) such as yourself oughta stick with women your height. 5’4 and below.
Alls I know, Mr. West, is that you seem troubled. If you need anyone to talk to, I’m here whenever (umm well apart from 8 – 10 on Mondays and Tuesdays. That time is dedicated to my VH1 and MTV lineup of
brain cell killers shows. Wednesdays from 9-10 are also usually bad since Top Chef comes on. Then Thursday night lineup keeps me busy too so that doesn’t work. Plus, you know I work a 9 – 5 on weekdays so, yeah.) Ya know, Kanye, if you ever in need to talk between 5:14pm to about 7:58pm on a Saturday, I’m ya girl!
My couch is even MAD plush and comfortable. Lay down, take off them ugly ALL red Louis Vuitton gymshoes you designed, and let’s discuss.
Truly (sometimes) and Always (except for when I’m lazy) Yours,