It’s summer time, which means pool parties, beach days and scant attire for the men & women. Due to global warming, trans fats and our increasingly sedentary lifestyles its getting harder and harder to tear ourselves away from the TV or the computer screen to get in some quality physical time (online porn and the actions you do whilst watching it does not count; real life fucking, however, does), leaving many collectives waistlines more swollen than the Mississippi river. Fear not—as you all know, Nintendo, who, I suppose could be in part to blame for generations of kids being fats but with extra strong thumbs and great hand eye coordination, as my blogging brethren Mr. 88 pointed out, unleashed the Wii fit this year therefore allowing you to fight the fat within the comfort of your own home, in reach of your favorite bag of Doritos. Walk wit me… »

Salute to the big poppas who are holding it down working two or three jobs to feed their seeds

Salute to the fathers who are paying fir those ballet class, kung fu classes and T-ball lessons, knowing their uncoordinated little bit may never be the Tiger, Jeter or Serena, but still cheers them on anyway.

Salute to the baby-daddies who may have knocked some broad up at the club, hated her, but shows undying devotion to his kid.

Salute to all daddies out there who stood up and cared for a child who shared not his DNA, but nevertheless remains the apple of his eye.

Salute to those who wrap it up and avoid skeezy hoes, knowing he’s not ready to be a father.

To the Alumnah men who are fathers and father figures, Fux, BK, Phuque, salute. You are all gifted and intelligent, your children are lucky to have you. To the top poppas in our readership, Plug, cOLD, landLORD, icon,  ian, chea  and the rest of you. Salute to the blogfather eskay, for birthing a hell of a movement in this here online hip hop game, as well as nurturing his own youngun at home.

We live in a society where fathers are demonized instead of deified, where its become far to common to hear stories about trifling fathers, where the laws are stacked against a fathers rights, but on this day, props to the fathers out there. I have no doubt that there are far more of you holding it down than popular sentiment would lead the world to believe. Salute.

It may come as quite a shock to some of you, but rappers tend to get into trouble with the law almost as much as young white Hollywood starlets. Unlike those silly starlets, however, there seems to be a massive conspiracy put forth by the powers that be, The Man, Dr. Yacub, Lyor Cohen, Hillary Clinton, Barrack Obama, Oprah, Bill Cosby, Yahweh, The Bilderburg Convention, Dick Cheney, Laura Bush, Fidel Castro, Tony Blair and Yemeya, to hold your favorite rappers back from their true potential. Or, so says Remy Ma. Walk wit me… »

Happy sexy Tuesday. Here’s hoping you all had a great safe sex filled weekend, maybe you and your boo got a hotel, spent the weekend freaking, left the poor traumatized maid a nice tip because you forgot to use the “do not disturb sign.” Maybe you didn’t get laid over the weekend, but got some Monday nookie. Maybe you didn’t get shit. Regardless of booty getting quotient, alumnah.com loves you. I scoured the internet, seedy parts and all to find the latest sex news from around the world.  Learn something. Use a condom.
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Friday is fuck night, Wednesday is Hump day, Monday sucks, Thursday is almost Friday and Saturday & Sunday are weekends. In honor of the least significant day of the week, here’s some news on the freaky front to get you through tax day.

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No doubt many of you have been observing the battle royale of Alumnah’s March April madness. The battle and judging took its toll on the Alumnah staff, the comments you, our dear readers left in the comments were nothing short of the name calling and beefing going o behind the scenes. Ty Biggs is still tied up under my bed (not like that you pervs). If for no other reason, that level of response, both internally and from you all was the greatest indicator that our little attempt at a kinda cool idea was a success. We want hate, love is nice too. Had you all ignored us; had we played nice and ho hummed our way throughout – it would have been an exercise in futility; and indicator that perhaps all the stories of Hip Hops demise were in fact true.
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I was shuffling through the old ipod the other day when I happened across “Dreams” from Lil Kim’s first pussy popping rap opus Hardcore. Not having listened to Hardcore in a while, I started listened to the album in its entirety at which point I had bit of an ah ha! moment. For awhile I had been musing the hypersexualization of women; this past decade has without a doubt seen an explosion in women not just celebrating their sexuality, but going above and beyond sexual ownership and and empowerment and becoming, in many cases vapid empty vessels purely of sex. Not sensuality, not seduction, but raw, unobstructed sex.
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Dear Marion,

Hi Suge! It’s me, greenie. Its been awhile since we last spoke Suga Bear. You don’t mind that I call you Suga Bear do you? I mean as much as we go back, you should be cool with my affectionate nickname. I mean, shit… I was down with Death Row from the word go. My domicile may have been on the Eastern seaboard, but lets be honest, back in the early 90s ain’t nann body paid attention to the South, and I was never riding for the Northern team, regardless of our coastal sharing. I was never afraid of you in the way most fans and rappers were. I recall saying aloud once after Pac died, “Fuck a Suge Knight!” and a friend of mine quickly hushing me, lest you hear such foul utterance- in spite of the entire span of the United States distancing us. I may never have actually gotten to west side until i was in my 20s, but thanks to you and the Death Row squad and affiliates, I felt like I spent most of teens there. You put together an umbrella that represented a unified front of west coast thuggery and music.

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Titty titty ass nipple. Lick lick poke thrust squeeeeezzzeeee. Ahhhhh. Ride climb groan moan. Mmmmmm.

Now that I have your attention, let’s chat for a minute about sex. Sex, as you may be aware is a big deal. Its currently bringing down both the Mayor of Detroit and the Governor- make that former Governor of New York. It’s currently occurring in offices, break rooms, beds and cars. You are thinking about it. So here are a few bits of information about sex that are floating around the net these days, maybe you’ll learn a new trick.

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The incomparably inspirational and pimptastic Texan Mac Brown and I were partaking in a conversational exchange the other day and he brought up the topic of ageism in Hip Hop; how rampant it is, and how most 25 year olds, if they haven’t made it yet- need to just walk away. after a brief moment of consideration, I had to agree. To generalize- mastery in most careers that human beings undertake take years to achieve. The best and brightest are often the oldest as they have spent years honing and perfecting their craft, Nature then deals a cruel twist of fate as many who finally gain enough knowledge and experience to be considered masters do so around the time their bodies start to fail; limbs grow weak, minds feeble. Yet and still– you start young, and master old. Unless, of course, you want to a rapper when you grow up. If you want to be rapper, you must start young, master young and quit before you’re 35 lest you be ridiculed as the feeble, out of touch old man, a has been, or worse a barely made it but never really was.

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