Friday, February 27, 2009

signed, sealed, delivered.

Dearest Stevland Hardaway Judkins,

You are that nigga, twice.

If fact, you are the alpha nigga that all of the rest of us inferior, mortal niggas aspire to be like.. (well, outside of the whole walking into walls cuz you're blind thing.. I'm assuming you probably fuck the ugly groupies too, huh?).. your name is synonymous with the type of success even Kanye would've sniped his own mother for.. you have more hit records than I have years on planet Earth.. you have the adulation of millions of people, and have single handledly influenced more pregnancies than Shawn Kemp.. you have attainted a level of sonic diety that will never be duplicated by man, woman, or Milli Vanilli..

If Juelz Santana is truly the embodiment of crack in the flesh (AYE!), then you, Stevland (AYE!), are the human embodiment of God himself..

You didn't create the world in seven days, but you were the architect behind music that will survive just as long as the very planet it was created on..

Take a bow, Mr. Judkins.. You truly are that nigga twice.

But alas, even God's fall from grace, and on those rare occasions, are capable of discovering fault within themselves.. imperfection is the curse of man that tragically, some God's are unable to abstain from.. and since I'm unable to leave this task to the mirrors in your home due to your loss of functional vision, I will take it upon myself to share with you the truth..

The charade must end, dearest Stevland.. it's time.

You see (actually no you don't, my bad), your lack of sight leaves you at the mercy of your peers, and clearly those same "allies" are on a mission to embarress you & assassinate your public image as covertly as humanly possible.. when you smile for the cameras, little do you know these common mediums of digital photography are not only recording the happiness you bear within that legendary grin, but the tragedy continuing to transpire above your eyebrows..

Stevland, you have more Grammys than you do hair follicles.. your hairline and my virginity share the same experation date.. if your stylist would be as malicious as to dress you in a tan suit, you'd resembe Lt. Worf to the T.. your name will be on the marquee in the next Aliens Vs. Predators sequel.. allow me to express the severity of the situation through means I'm sure you can identify & relate to:

"All I Do" is get distracted by your forehead, Stevland.

The "Ribbon In The Sky" fell off a cloud and is hanging on for dear life on the back of your head & neck, Stevland.

You are the victim of a "Part-Time Lover Hairline", Stevland.

"Yester-Me, Yester-Y0u, Yester-HAIR", Stevland.

Mr. Judkins, it's time.

For a mere $12 I can put you in contact with a certified hair care technician who can rid you of the shame and complete & utter lack of dignity clinging on for dear life north of the back of your neck.. and for an additional $2, I'll even have him line up that fucked up pube-stache you've been rockin' since like '73.. you may balk at the price, but don't consider it compensation, consider it an investment into your own peice of mind.. aren't you tired of your doo rag laughing manically at you as you go to cover up what's left of your braids every night?

Stevland, unlike those parasites in your corner, who have you sign legal documents you can't even read and fuck all the dope groupies while leaving you with the Sheneneh-esque crumbs, I am genuinely looking out for your best interests; both as a fan, and as a man.. I understand it's common for most older gentlemen to brave the riducle and do what they can to salvage their hair, but when your hairline becomes parallel to your ears drums, I am left with an intervention as my only recourse..

I'm doing this because I love you, Stevland.

I beg of thee.. please.

Don't be the next contestant on that Summer Jam screen.

I can save you, Stevland, but salvation lies in the hands of a barber.. please, allow him to cut that shit off, and allow yourself learn to love life again..
You've carried the cross long enough, friend.. allow me to serve as your savior.

The Incomparable Bozack Jenkins


  1. yo and its not just his hair [although thats what we initially notice] his stylist needs to be fired. the fits he wears resembles stuff you'd find on a clearance rack at the compton fashion center [previously known as the compton swapmeet]...

    if only the internet came in braille.

  2. This post is so awesome, I'm LIVID that I ain't write it. I mean... just... *sigh* Bozack, you rock my socks, for I have been mad at Stevie's runaway hairline for a GOOD minute. His hairline has clearly staged a mutiny against him and bounced. His handlers don't like him.

  3. lol. And that's all I have to say.

  4. LMAO!! Wow...yeah whoever is in charge of his styling has to be trying to assasinate my dudes character or something...smh

    Hilarious blog man.

  5. Ya'll are on point with Stevie's gear.. dude dresses like Ronnie & shit.


This is the part where you either share your opinion on my opinion, or you gloat about how sexy you think I am.. I'll leave that decision up to you..