Archive: "It's a Cosby blog!"

(January 27, 2008 - the day "blogsby" was born)

After writing the subject line, I immediately thought "Blogsby!" Which is totally what my blog will be called now. Plus, it makes me think of a butler. And when I'm rich, I will require that my manservant go by the name of "Blogsby." Then I will mock him mercilessly in my blogsby.

Dear Ask Tashina:
I refuse to give in to your ebonics, madam. Why do you insist on encouraging my people to speak improperly? Don't you agree that it's their own fault for speaking like idiots? Learn the master race's language! Right? Also: What happened to my career?

Bill Cosby

Sigh.

Honestly? I don't know whether I should answer this as if Bill Cosby really sent me a question, or as if I was aware that some doofus is pretending to be Bill Cosby, asking me a question. (That sentence is awkwardly worded... but you know what I'm saying.) More importantly, it seems like there's a lot of rhetorical questions, and not any real question. Which makes it hard for me to give an answer to anything. Other than the last question, to which the answer is: "Your career went where you did on those 12 ladies who charged you for sexual harassment - down." Except that I hope if I were to give a more detailed answer to that question, it would be WAY more witty than that.

But here's the real question. Did anyone know that Bill Cosby had 12 (12!!) ladies allege that he harassed them? It started with one woman's accusation, where Bill Cosby gave her blue pills (which... what? I know that not every blue pill is Viagra, but Bill Cosby is 70 now, so he was pretty old then, and maybe he got his roofies mixed up with his penis pills? very strange) and she woke up with her bra undone and mussed-up clothes. And then other ladies started coming out of the woodwork. I mean, I know that people make false accusations. But then if you couple it (or rather, baker's dozen it) with the whole Autumn Jackson debacle, it makes Bill Cosby seem like a shady character indeed. So where does he get off telling black people that they're shaming themselves? Because if you took Bill Cosby's name out of those stories, it would read like some second-tier NBA player. If you added some physical abuse to it, Bill Cosby would be Jason Kidd. (Who is not second-tier, because only high class NBA ballers beat their wives. Shut up, Jason Kidd.)

I'm just saying, I used to love Bill Cosby, and now all I want to do is punch him in the face. I get that he's trying to promote education in the black community, but there are better ways to do it than insulting your culture. Listen, old man, why don't you go stick your hand up some young thang's skirt, and come back to me when you actually know what it's like to live in a single-parent household? I think Bill Cosby's biggest problem is that he wants to be a white man. And really, he is a white man. He's rich, and no one likes him anymore. See, Michael Jackson? You don't have to go freaky to go white. You just have to be an old, rich asshole.

God. I'm talking about Bill Cosby and Michael Jackson. What is this, the early to mid 90's? Also? I can't call Bill Cosby anything but "Bill Cosby." I even wrote "the Cos" and "Bill" at certain points above, and deleted it because it seemed wrong. Even with my new-found hatred of Bill Cosby (thanks, Wikipedia!), I still can't help but respect him. Oh, Bill Cosby. How you conflict me so.

Fucking Bill Cosby. Getting me all riled up... over what? Some jackass who sent me a question, acting like he's Bill Cosby? I don't need all the "witty" business in your questions, people. I'm obviously the queen of the wit, and you trying to usurp my title in your questions is just gonna make YOU look like a fool, not the other way around.

Although, by me answering these non-questions, I do look like a pretty big dumbass. Because why wouldn't I just ignore the question? I think it's because I'm so in need of attention all the time, that I can't pass up a chance to attempt my funny, even when the funny's not working (see: this blogsby). "Pay attention to me! Pay attention to me!" is what my heart is crying out. "I only exist if someone thinks I'm awesome!"

Luckily, everyone thinks I'm awesome, so my need for attention is constantly validated. We all win! Well, I win, and everyone else can just bask in my awesomeness.

(I can't stop saying the word "blogsby" in my head. It's on a loop. Blogsbyblogsbyblogsby. I thought if I wrote it, it would go away. It didn't, and my fingers don't really like typing "blogsby.")