Huzzah! Summer’s Eve found a way to make women hate both their skin colors and their lady junk!
But BOO! Thanks to Fourth Estate outrage, the ads were pulled.
Yup. That's what Summer's Eve thinks a vagina looks like.
The douche company (literally, that’s not a slam) put out a series of ads where hands pretend to be vajayjays and extol the virtues of their completely unnecessary product that dangerously changes the ph levels inside of a very sensitive area leading to fun things like yeast infections and thus even more self-loathing while taking on the persona of various ethnicities, of course speaking with completely accurate, non-stereotype-tastic vernacular. I mean, when my squish mitten talks to me, it always says “Girrrrrrl” first.
Like the unique African Baobab tree, which nourishes its community with its leaves and fruit, McDonald’s has branched out to the African-American community nourishing it with valuable programs and opportunities.
Highlights of the videos included an African American pudding hatch gettin’ ready to go to da club and a Latino yippee bog saying things like “Ay yi yi” in an accent Speedy Gonzalez would be proud of.
And don’t worry, Blanchetourage members, they didn’t leave you out. The white ham wallet like totes wants to be BFFs!
UPDATE: A friend (who may or may not choose to remain nameless) found one of the vids on yt! Here it is. Until further notice (ie. more of my friends do the hard work for me), check out the other two vids at the link above.
Summer’s Eve may not know how to take care of ladies’ bodies, but at least they’re helping make more Oreos! If after watching the video any new converts have questions, start here and send me a message letting me know you’re in!(Special thanks to Bloodhound Gang for writing the following song and thus contributing largely to this post)
But if you feel like doing a bit of driving (in your Oreo-approved Mini Cooper–the originals, not the new ones that obliterate the purpose of being mini by being the size of a totally regular car– or on your Vespa) here are three places to check out on your journey away from your ethnicity.
DAVE AND CHANTAL’S HOUSE
What Will You See There? Pictures of their recent South African wedding (awwwww!)…where they chose a “colonial” theme (awwww—okaaaaay) and to round out the effect, and made sure that all the all-white crowd was attended to by a fleet of all black servants–just like in the good ol’ colonial days!!! (awwwwwkward!!!)
The smiles were as genuine as the nostalgia
*Bonus points if you hang out with the wedding coordinator who, upon hearing this idea seconded it and unembarrasedly put out an employment notice requesting the specialized staff.
PLANTATION CHAPELS
What Will You See There? Beautiful homes (awwwwww!) that were home to wealthy wealthy slave-owners (awww–kaaaay) and where slave quarters are kept in preserved, working conditions (awwwwwkward!!)
Well, black families did do really well on plantations, right Bachmann?
*Bonus points if you don’t skip the Confederate flag as a commentator who was mentioned in this article on the trend suggested.
THE PINKBERRY NEAR MY HOUSE
What Will You See There? I mentioned recently that a very helpful employee at my local Pinkberry suggested that out of all the flavors available, I might like watermelon the best. I decline and went with my staple mango and original tart.
I thought this was a one time thing, but no! I went back and the conversation went very similarly:
Pinkberry Worker: What can I get for you?
OreoExperience: Mango and original tart, please.
Pinkberry Worker: Watermelon?
OreoExperience: Mango and original tart, please.
Pinkberry Worker: Oh, okay. Oh.. are you with them?
I turned around and saw another black family at the back of the store. They entered about 3 minutes after I did. We hadn’t spoken to each other and our body language was in no way open towards each other (thanks for following the rules, btw, Other Black People!). Surely he couldn’t’ have meant them.
OreoExperience: Who?
Pinkberry Worker: Them.
He did.
OreoExperience: No.
Pinkberry Worker: Okay…. I’m sorry, did you say wa–
OreoExperience: Mango
For toppings, I'll take yogurt chips, kiwi slices and just a spoonful of embarassment
*Bonus Points if you keep going back to this Pinkberry….like I do.
___
Where are your favorite places to road-trip, awkward or otherwise? Let us know in the comments!
Everyone needs a place to get away from the routine
Hey black guys! Want a break from that dangerous, deadly life you lead? Do you need a place to lower your blood pressure while communing in a community of your peers?
Try prison!
This headline came out last week which surely didn’t bother anyone in the blogosphere at all:
Black men are half as likely to die at any given time if they’re in prison than if they aren’t, suggests a new study of North Carolina inmates.
The short story is that a new study shows that black men live longer in prison than outside of it. And of course they do! With such comfy quarters and sense of camaraderie, it only makes sense. Here are three reasons why you should book your weekend away today!
The black prisoners seemed to be especially protected against alcohol and drug-related deaths…
Few things are more sobering than living in a studio apartment (Los Angelinos, am I right!!) and in prison, you don’t even get that much. But it’s all part of simplifying your life.
You're so cute IKEA, but even this adorable Splornjabarn won't fit between the cot, the toilet, the shiv stand and the shame. Bummer!
2. Clean pipes!
White prisoners died of cardiovascular diseases as often as expected and died of cancer slightly more often than non-prisoners.
Black inmates, by contrast, were between 30 and 40 percent less likely to die of those causes than those who weren’t incarcerated
Some might say that it’s depressing that food available to undeserved communities is less healthy than food that’s served in prison.
Hey! A cucumber! See - spa-like!
But hey, all of us can be lazy cooks at home. You always expect something nicer when you step out.
3. Not murder!
They were also less likely to die of … suicide and murder than black men not in prison.
Some folks have said that things like unequal sentence for crack and cocaine violations, Three Strikes laws and long jail sentences for casual marijuana are just conspiracies. And I think they are conspiring….to help black dudes relax for once! It’s like they’re trying to throw a fun surprise party getaway!
How do you feel about day spas? Either the kind you elect to go to or the kind you’re forced to when you can’t afford decent legal counsel? Let us know in the comments!
Bachmann, along with other Republican politicos, signed a pledge written by activist group The Family Leader that said this:
“Slavery had a disastrous impact on African-American families, yet sadly a child born into slavery in 1860 was more likely to be raised by his mother and father in a two-parent household than was an African-American baby born after the election of the USA’s first African-American President.
The goal of The Family Group and it’s completely inoffensive pledge is ostensibly to push America back to a more family friendly environment by cracking down on abortion, getting rid of porn and by getting all nostalgic for the early days of this country.
Now, some people might say that instead of bringing various sides of an argument together, invoking the institution slavery in a discussion about anything other than actual slavery only serves to polarize anyone who might be reading that document or listening to someone talk about it.
Those people are lame and boring!
Especially because as Bachmann, et al, pointed out, slavery did some real good for black folks! I don’t know if they need another speech writer or document typer-upper. But here are eight other kickass things about slavery that we might want to work into some legal documents!
1. Fitness plans. According to some stats I hastily Googled, almost half of all black people are obese. This article says that in 42 states, more than a third of the black people there are obese. And in 15 states, that number goes up to 40%. I imagine that means that those black people are so fat that…they probably have a number of health problems and are uncomfortable in tiny seats or skinny jeans.
But back in slave days, blacks were super fit!! You can’t have a high body fat percentage when you’re doing hard labor all day. Not only did they get some cardio in when they were running from dogs and bullets and things, but they also got some fantastic strength training by carrying around full bushels of crops.
It was much the same in the good ol’ days. Slaves would come over with these hard to pronounce names and were promptly given new ones. They didn’t have to think about it or sift through dozens of baby name books to figure out if they were more a Madison or a Brighton or a Westley. Slave owners did the work for them! You came into the plantation an Mbutu and left a Marvin. Easy peasy!
That’s so not how it was when slavery was en vogue. You’d be hard pressed to find a black person out of work then. And sure, they didn’t get paid and had to work ridiculous hours, but you know how good an internship looks on a resume!
4. Travel Benefits. Trying to work overseas can be a nightmare! There’s Visas and sponsors to worry about. You have to figure out how to get your paychecks converted into the right currency for whatever bank you’re using. You can’t lose your passport.
But slaves got to work overseas and had someone else take care of all the particulars! All slaves had to do was mind their own business in Africa. Then, suddenly, they got a surprise trip to a whole new world with lodging already taken care of!
Ugh! It's as crowded as coach, am I right!
5. Easier Investment Portfolios. Have you looked at a paycheck recently? They’re so confusing! There’s the gross pay and allowances and all kinds of taxes. And don’t get me started on how complicated it can be to have a 401K! You have to figure out who your dependents are and how much of what stock you want to invest in. And if your company does matching funds, what’s the tipping point when you start taking out too much…it just goes on and on and on…
But slaves didn’t have to worry about all that. No pay meant no financial headache! No one likes doing their taxes and slaves got away with never having to.
6. Lots of Time Outdoors. How tiring is it, being cooped up in an office all day! Fluorescent lights and distant windows and office chairs that never seem to be adjusted quite right. It feels so good to just get away at the weekend. Go outside, take a hike or even just a walk around the neighborhood. Camping is a huge industry–people love it! And those lucky lucky slaves got to be outside all the time!! And they didn’t even have to wear sunscreen!
7. Low-Sugar Diet. We’ve already talked about the obesity rates among blacks, but diabetes is sky-high, too. Diabetes rates are twice as high among African-Americans than it is in whites. And they’re more likely to have to have limbs amputated. No. Thank. You.
It’s hard to over do it on the sugar when you’re eating scraps of meat and bread and so slaves totally had it good when it came to controlling carbs! It’s soooooo hard to say no to dessert. But slaves never got the chance to say yes! How easy would it be to be healthy without all that nasty temptation everywhere!
8. Gated Community Living. Today, neighborhoods where lots of black live are all scary like Compton or Oakland or The South. But as slaves, blacks got to live in super secure, fenced-in areas that would be totes out of their price range today. Jealous!
I mean, no, they didn't live in the big house, but they got to live behind the gate. Which is more than I'm doing, tell you that!
I just finished watching the Casey Anthony verdict come down. I’m sure every moment in every trial is as tense as these few
People always look so nice in court. I wonder if legal stylists are cheaper than regular stylists.
minutes were for the folks involved. But for whatever reason, the media decide what moments are going to be tense for everyone else in America as well.
The tension reminded me of how it felt in my 11th grade trig class when the OJ verdict was being delivered. A bunch of kids begged our teacher to turn on the TV in the room and let us watch. I, as the only black kid in the class, would rather have taken the pop quiz on my desk and given myself a dozen papercuts on my eyeballs than watch that trail wrap up. But as an Oreo, I had to say nothing. To speak up would have been to acknowledge my discomfort with my race. Clearly, no one else, including the teacher who lets us watch, thought it might have been awkward for me…it’s possible they thought this because they didn’t realize I was black. So I had to play along.
Today’s verdict was much easier to take. Here’s why.
1. I was alone. When dealing with difficult current events, it’s much better to do it in the privacy of your own home/office/bathroom/car/box seat at the opera. With no one else around to agree or disagree with you, you can’t wonder aloud how the intersection of race and or class would have affected another hypothetical trial. You can’t bring up to the person next to you that hundreds of kids go missing/killed every day and what makes any one child more deserving of media attention than the next. You get to stuff your feelings back into your gut. That knot in your stomach is very filling and thus, you satisfy your need for restraint and you don’t feel the urge to snack.
It's like a Lap Band for your soul
2. All players were white. In the OJ trial if you supported the prosecution because you hated murder**, you were labelled a racist or if you were of color, a sell out. With Casey, you could dislike murder and not be called a traitor to humanity. That was nice.
Bonus: That since there are no of-colors in this case, we don’t have to worry about any rioting or looting this afternoon. Though a toddler riot would be totes adorbs!
She will eff you up!
3. If Casey does a reality show or writes a book after this, we won’t all be terrified. OJ continued to horrify us all by creating a reality show called “Juiced” where he inspired other people to try and commit murder by playing pranks on them and showing up in places where he wasn’t expected or invited. Then he wrote a book called “If I Did It” that was awful. I didn’t read this book, but the fact that he wrote it and got someone to print it was pretty awful.
If Casey showed up at a party or decides to write a book (I’m fairly certain William Morris Endeavor and CAA have both already optioned the rights to this story) she’ll look way better on the talk show circuit.
She will not make this face when presented with the Casey Anthony interview
Did you follow the trial? What did you think of the trial or the verdict? Were you in my 12th grade class (I’m looking at you, LR!). Do you remember me sobbing quietly in the back of the room? Let us know in the comments!
**I’m pretty sure I’m required to say that OJ Simpson was officially acquitted of murder in 1997 and therefore is considered not guilty of the crimes mentioned in this post.
When members of my blanchetourage like my Brown-educated roommate, her boyfriend who’s getting his PhD in something to do with Shakespeare and their friend who works as a French literature translator invite me to hang with them, I always feel perfectly safe that whatever they suggest will be Oreo-appropriate.
So when Brown, Shakes and French said “Let’s go skating!” I was like “D’accord!”
I'm very agreeable.
When they murmured that it was Gospel Night at the place we were going and that the place we were going was at the corner of Crenshaw and Venice (read: inner effing city!) I was apparently not paying attention.
But easily distracted.
When we got there, I was in shock. “Gospel Night” didn’t come close to describing the scene. It might as well have been “Fried Chicken and Check Cashing Place Night” considering the number of black people who were there.
I was soon distracted though, because in addition to way too many black folks, World of Wheels was also filled with something else: wonderful, sweet nostalgia.
I hadn’t been to a skating rink since I was maybe 10-years-old. So, you know, just like 10 years ago. Definitely not 21 years ago. And I had forgotten how wonderful they were.
Old school skates are awesome. They’re heavy and look exactly like they did back in the day. Which also means they’re probably also crawling with strangers’ foot germs from back in the day, but they smelled fine and did the job. The floor on the rink feels really specific–smooth, but grainy like you’re sliding over warm ice with just a hint of gravel in it. The arcade was awesome. I am terrible at video games (except Katamari – I will totally kick yer butt at Katamari) but I love arcade games. Give me skee ball, Centipede and some air hockey and you can get rid of me for like 12 hours.
Look, if you played Katamari, you'd totally get this pic. If you don't get this pic...that's probably best.
While looking at all this wonderfulness and whizzing around the track, I felt all the things I felt when I was a kid–joy, bliss, abandon, like I could fly, and because a guy I had a very meaningful relationship with sex with a few times showed up, hugging a girl with whom he was clearly having a very meaningful relationship, I also felt shame. Just like in middle school. Joy and shame very close together.
I also marvelled at the crazy skating abilities of all the RBPs near me. Brown, Shakes, French and I were the only one who weren’t spinning, dancing and Salchow-ing while in rollertastic motion. Why, I thought, could these homophobic-looking thuggy teens ronde de jambe so easily, but not me? So I gave it a little try. Turns out, having an unshrinkable ass isn’t just good for attracting unwanted attention on Hollywood Blvd. late at night after an improv show. It’s also great for grounding yourself during a successful Besti Squat.
It looks like this. Jazz hands not necessary.
Is skating like basketball for black people? Something they can just do? It was so cool seeing those dudes flying about doing balletic moves on wheels that had I seen them back in the day, I would have totally engaged in a very meaningful relationship with sex a few times with any one of them.
Unfortunately, I had to leave early for the aforementioned improv show. It was one of the best shows I’ve done in a while. I totally think it was because I was so full of skating joy that it would have been impossible for anything that I did in the next 24 hours to be colored with anything but wonderful.
Have you been skating as an adult? How was it? Are you good at it? Terrible at it? Do you have pictures proving either way? Any other childhood fun things you like to do now? Or are you still a kid and so you’re enjoying these things for the first time? If you are a kid, do your parents know you’re reading this blog? Let us know in the comments!
Hey, look at that — free time! Quite the concept this “free time” business. I should look into it more often.
I should also get caught up on my pop culture.
Movies are a great way to solidify your Oreo experience. The repeated images of certain types of people doing certain types of things really reminds us who we are and who we can…or probably cannot be.
So let’s see what’s opening this weekend!
Transformers: Dark of the Moon – Robots do battle in what is clearly an intricate and well-developed plot… Is it weird that I had a huge crush on StarScream when I was a kid?
Stuff White People Get to Do in This Movie – Be astronauts, threaten Shia LeBoeuf, lie to robots, wear Kevlar, replace Megan Fox while still keeping eyes wide and mouth always slightly ajar, para-glide, seriously–in every shot she’s in in the trailer, the girl’s mouth is open and she’s not speaking what is up with that?, be both able-bodied and sit in a wheelchair, save the day.
Stuff Not-White People Get to Do in This Movie – wear Kevlar and deliver bad news.
Is there a medical reason why her lips can't touch? Should we start a fund?
Larry Crowne – Julia Roberts, Tom Hanks and Magical Black People, oh my!
Stuff White People Get to Do in This Movie – enjoy a simple, but oddly fulfilling job, be employee of the month, hold the power position(s) at a large company, be a Dean/Principal figure, be adorably bumbling, dislike their challenging, but unfulfilling job, enjoy ice irresponsibly, utilize public transportation, ride scooters safely, change the tough chick’s heart despite her best attempts, demonstrate hilariously uncharacteristic sexual abandon, enjoy love with a hint of embarrassment.
Stuff Not-White People Get to Do in This Movie – marvel at the ability of the white guy to be employee of the month, deliver sassy advice to the white guy, help the white guy realize his fashion and romantic potential, be made an example of, be unnecessarily jealous.
They're so in love and they don't even know it!!
Monte Carlo – Wait, what? Movies can cast quasi-minorities in lead roles in films that have nothing to do with them dressing in drag?
I know, TP, I was confused and hurt, too.
And instead of magical black people, there are two magical white people? AND the main character with a Mexican Spanish last night is pretending to be a white princess?? I can only hope that one day my Oreoness takes me to a place where I can pretend to be a white princess. AND Catherine Tate is in this movie?!?!? Cue Oreo explosion in 3…2…1…
Granted, the feminist implications of this film are pretty terrible (“teehee, despite all my hard work and brains, i just want castles and jewels and pretty and boys and boys!”), but that’s for a whole different blog. I’m still thrilled about the CT cameo. I ain’t even bovvered to pay money for that!
Two compliments I received this week warmed my Oreo heart and reminded me that second degree scalp burns and sunscreen-induced temporary blindness are totes worth it.
The first one came after a show I did on Friday. In that show, I sang some Gilbert and Sullivan (Three Little Maids, FTW), reminisced about television shows like Donna Reed
Not to brag, but I can Mikado all. Night. Long.
and Dobie Gillis and played my flute.
Then the next day, this conversation happened between my friend and her mom who saw the show.
FriendsMom: That Indian girl was funny.
Friend: What Indian girl?
FriendsMom: The one who played the flute.
Friend: She’s not Indian. She’s black.
FriendsMom: Really?
Friend: Yeah, you know how we had that scene where we made fun of her for acting so white even though she’s black….?
FriendsMom: Huh. I thought that was just a joke. She’s really black?
Friend: Yes.
FriendsMom: …Like half black?
Friend: Just eat your Panera Bread.
That was good because even though I talked about being black, she didn’t think I was. But ultimately, it was just kind of good because she still thought I was a brown. Ick!
Last night, however, was perfect!
It was karaoke. Showtunes were sung, trivia was played very badly (Really?? Black Red and GOLD in the German flag? Gold is basically the same as yellow, we absolutely should have gotten that one) and then the KJ made my whole night.
It's effing yellow!
It was getting toward the end of the evening. I had sung twice and also started the night with trivia and spoken directly to KJ Kelly more than once. So by the time the following incident happened, she had plenty of contact with me. And at the time in question, I was sitting not five yards from her.
A guy got up to sing some rap song and made mention of the fact that the n-word might pop up.
KaraokeGuy: Is that gonna be weird?
KJ: Nah, there aren’t any black people in here.
Sometimes, there are no words, only smiles.
No slacking off, though! This weekend, I’m doing a Farmer’s Market, Grease Sing-a-Long, Tree of Life screening and sunscreen shopping trip just for good measure.
The following clip confused me. I am totally used to seeing black people with magical powers or skills-either of a biological nature or simply the power of unlimited patience, unending empathy and down home wisdom. But when we see it on screen, those powers have a very specific purpose.
In The Green Mile where Michael Clark Duncan CAN use his actual magic powers to heal Tom Hank’s urinary tract infection and TH’s wife’s cancer, but CAN’T use those same magical powers to clear his name and get his ass off death row. In Ghost, Whoopie Goldberg CAN use psychic abilities to help Patrick and Demi find love across the time/space, life/death continuum, but CAN’T use those same powers to get herself into decent housing.
She was, however, able to get great lamé
In The Legend of Bagger Vance, Will Smith CAN help rich Brad Pitt be even better at being rich, but CAN’T come back to life or whatever. In The Help, a movie coming out later this summer, the black mammies CAN help white writer Skeeter find purpose for her life, but CAN’T make their own lives have purpose on their own. Bubba CAN give Forrest the idea for a wildly profitable seafood restaurant but CAN’T build that business on his own. J-Hud CAN get Sarah Jessica Parker back on track but CAN’T be written in to the rest of the script once SJP feels like herself again. Dick Halloran in The Shining CAN use this telepathic powers to make Danny Torrance feel better about his own powers but CAN’T use those powers to get the hell away from psycho Jack.
Yes, there is Johnny. You knew that because you're psychic. So why not take the next logical step and get a new job...or at least put in your two weeks, then cash in in your vacay.
In Super 8 (SPOILER ALERT!!!) Dr. Woodward CAN use his super smartypantsness to thwart a government’s attempt to torture an alien indefinitely and give a bunch of white kids a raison d’etre, but CAN’T think a way to do it other than murdering himself.
So imagine my surprise when I saw this video of a black kid using actually amazing sonic powers (I am NOT kidding about this) for…himself!!
Hmmm, I wonder whose sidekick he’ll get to be in the movie version of his life? If it’s Jon Hamm, Chris Pine or Hugh Grant, I hope he needs a plucky magical black little sister, too!
Do you have any magic powers? Do you use them for good, for evil, or for white people?
Is it weird that I think the fact that I test super consistently as an INFJ is kind of a super power? Let us know in the comments!
I went to karaoke with a trusted member of my blanchetourage last night (Need a definition of “Blanchetourag”? Click here!). Wednesday nights at Sardos aren’t incredibly busy, so I was excited for the opportunity to sing more than once and to whip out some new showtunes. My friend said we were meeting some people there, and I was excited to meet them, too.
We got to the bar and I almost walked right out. The “people” we were “supposed” to “meet” were both black.
WTF?
Every time you trick an Oreo, a baby loses its wings
He knows me and that per the Oreo code it is so not okay to hang out en masse with other black people.
My friend mentioned that one of the girls was in a recent revival of RENT and my hackles went down a bit. The musical RENT does feature a lot of black people in it, but it’s very theatery and it’s Broadway and OhMyGodAdamPascalTouchedMeEnce!!! so I tossed her some Oreo points and let it go.
Dear Adam, the answer will always be "yes"
Then the other girl suggested the three of us go sing a song together.
What??
We were the only black people in the whole bar. If we went up to sing together, we’d totally really look like really black people. But part of the aforementioned Oreo code involves sticking to a WASPish code of uncomfortable politeness. So I had to say yes.
And I was totally rewarded for my efforts.
I worried we were going to end up singing something ethnic. Whitney Carey or Rhiannan or something like that. But the track started. And it was Hanson! Three black girls pretending to be two white boys and one white girl three white boys! I couldn’t totally get on board with that and I happily MmmBopped along. I also learned that an “MmmBop” was a unit of time.
I also also learned later that “More Than Words” seems to be about a bj. 😦
“…if you only knew how easy
It would be to show me how you feel
More than words
Is all you have to do to make it real
Then you wouldn’t have to say that you love me
‘Cause I’d already know…”
Yeah, that’s not romantic, that’s about a beej. Wish I had realized that in high school. Prom would have been much much different.
Lots of popular songs are confusing. And that’s one of the reasons I love showtunes, because the song “Popular” is not confusing at all.
What’s your go-to karaoke jam? (are we still saying ‘jam’?) Do you think Adam Pascal would let me More Than Words him? Let us know in the comments!
The Oreo Experience 