Open the door...

...get on the floor. Everybody walk the dinosaur.

On Sunday, I woke up stayed in my room til about 3:30. Then P Money came over and we went over his scene. Then, we went to see Freedomland (in the misdst of my ebay bid for a new cell phone...thank GOD there's an apple store across the way from the movie theater...I ran to that bitch during the credits - and I got my phone).

Freedomland, oh freedomland. Had I known, I would have freed myself self from the land on which my seat was located. I love Sam Jackson. I've always felt like he was family. He looks just like my cousin...who's a girl. I don't know yall, but she ain't ugly. And she looks like Sam Jackson as a female...whatever. I love him. And I love Julianne Moore. Love em both. But I HATED Freedomland. Don't read this if you plan to see it.

That old USA great American theme - white chick loses kid (cuz she kills it) and blames it on a black dude. Where have we heard that before? NBC, CBS, ABC, WB, FOX. It news. It's always news. Til they discover mama done did it. Anyway, if you're going to take a theme like that (which really has happened) do it for real. Not some half ass Disney version where we should feel sympathetic for this bitch. When I say this movie had me in the theater stressed out (cuz I won't leave a movie),I MEAN I was really stressed out! The dumbest shit was happening. The dumbest plot twist. The dumbest everything. I even felt dumb. Just on the strength of everything else being dumb. I questioned myself. Dude(s), we find out at the end that the husband of the black woman that's been helping her out throughout the film and who is also her co-worker, is a guy that she's been doin' it to for the past few months. AND, that her kid killed himself by drinking a bottle of cough syrup cuz she left him in the house alone to go talk to the black dude. The only good part was finding out the kid did that! That was like the best plot portion - cuz when she started doin' it to the black dude, she would put the kid to sleep by giving him cough syrup so she could leave him in the house by himself - then basically, it stopped working, so he'd still be up when she wanted some mandigo. So she left anyway, and he drank that shit. All of it. Best part.

Anyway, the black dude helps her bury shorty...so the fuck what? Did that have to be part of the movie? Did her doin' it to blackie change anything? NO! What was the point? HE didn't even have to be in the movie at all! Although, then he wouldn't have got a check, and been able to put it on his resume - so for that I say...carry on. What was the point of anything? Then, her brother is a detective in the white precinct across town, and beats up some black kid in the precinct (who is a friend of Sammy J's - or Detective Lorenzo Council - what kinda name is that?) and Sammy J doesn't do shit. And he's watching it. What's the point of that scene? We already know white cops like beating niggers. There was no gratification, justification, blahblahfication - nothing - for the scene. Why did we put it in there? I don't know. I say "we" now because I just feel like I need to be in the mind of the production team.

I'm just rambling yall. I just feel like if you are going to do a movie that addresses so much shit that we actually have seen or heard about in recent times, do it for real. Don't do a bullshit ass UPN version of the shit. Why did Sammy J keep bringing the witness back to the crime scene, and then leaving her with the black chick? Can that happen? Black chick ain't no cop. He brings the white chick to the projects - where people are now not allowed to leave and being caged up like animals cuz the white chick said a black dude from the projects kidnapped her son- and leaves her with the black chick to go walk to the black chicks apartment. What kind of shit is that? Nobody threw a rock at her head or anything! So unrealistic. It's the projects! SOMEBODY would've thrown a rock. I mighta thrown a freakin' rock. Damn.

Ok, I'm done. Cuz this doesn't even make any sense. I didn't even go in any kind of order.