Season Premiere: “Somethin’s Stinkin’ in the House of Flav”

Matt Cale in spring…

The Man: Flavor Flav, member of Public Enemy, wearer of pink suits, royal robes, jeweled crowns, giant clock necklaces, heart-shaped glasses, top hats, and Viking helmets; in possession of the world’s largest martini glass.

The Women: Toastee, Buckeey, Wire, Nibblz, Somethin, Hood, Eye’z, Tiger, Beatuful, Bootz, Like Dat, Choclate, Spunkeey, Payshintz, Krazy, Buckwild, H-Town, Bamma, and Deelishis.

The Game: Get drunk, flirt, fight, shake that ass, scream, get up in that, howl, and finesse your way into Flav’s heart because this time, he’s looking for real love.

The Talk: “No more gold diggers!” — Flav

“I don’t trust none of them whores.” — Hood (I think)

(while praying) “Lord, please forgive me for beatin’ this bitch ass today.” — Sapphire

“You better stop interrupting my prayers before God direct me to whup your ass.” — Sapphire (before being thrown out for fighting)

“I ain’t skinny, but I ain’t fat, and that’s all I got to give.” — Like Dat

“You could have a picnic on her ass, for real!” — Flav

“For the record, I have no gag reflex.” — Nibblz

“Yes, I would lick a pussy!” — Somethin

“My last three kids was by a fine Latino woman.” — Flav

For each and every one of these ninety minutes, I never strayed from the belief that I was witnessing the greatest show in the history of television. Despite trying to take notes, I was interrupted no less than a dozen times with fits of laughter so intense that my eyes gushed tears. My stomach hurt, my nose ran, and the sweat on my neck, face, and chest could, for once, not be attributed to the summer heat. True, the show’s portrayal of the African American community is so barbaric that if Jesse Helms and David Duke were given absolute power mere minutes after the repeal of the 13th and 14th Amendments, they could not inflict more damage. Every recent, ancient, and future stereotype about black women is not only cultivated and reinforced, but celebrated with champagne-sipping glee. Never in my life have I seen more butt-slapping, tit-jiggling madness in an opening segment, and I had yet to see the topper involving a particularly sassy chick’s no-nonsense drop of an actual turd on the stairs. Yes, a grown woman took a shit on the floor before running to the bathroom, dripping even more excrement as she went.

I could offer some somber lesson from McLuhan or Murrow, wagging my finger at how far we’ve fallen and where we’re headed, but that would be pure hypocrisy. Instead, it struck me boldly, forcefully, and with profound joy: America wasn’t great because of its purple mountain’s majesty, or its history, or even its economic might. No, it stood tall as a beacon of hope and ultimately, freedom, because in no other place on earth — save Japan — could such a circus receive a plush, prime-time spot and in many ways, go unnoticed. Women kicked each other’s asses, hurled nasty insults, drank lustily, approached nudity, and yes, TOOK SHITS ON THE FLOOR, and there were no late-night raids by mysterious government agents or calls from on high to enforce a crack down. What might destroy other nations only made us stronger, and I’ll be damned if that within minutes of Flav’s 112th lip-smacking caress of a skanky chick’s tits, the sight of Old Glory didn’t make me tear up a little more.

Sure, the women are interchangeable and perhaps, their behavior is more a testament to the show’s deep misogyny than any racial insensitivity (after all, the crackers fare little better), but these are, in fact, today’s modern women. They are ambitious, strong, no-nonsense, and (at last) the realization of Betty Friedan’s dream. They lust for fame, sex, alcohol, and most of all, the $800 weaves of their fellow housemates, but there isn’t a blushing wallflower to be found. If these bitches were in charge for an hour, I doubt half the shit that plagues us would exist in its current form. Fine, it is a bit of an overreaction to pound a chick into dizziness for claiming she had the bed first, but imagine such a woman at the bargaining table in any hot spot across the globe. Goddamn if they don’t threaten to tear each other apart for a short, ugly, metal-mouthed nitwit, but who doesn’t want their moment in the sun? At least these trashy, scummy, nearly brain-dead vultures aren’t hurting anyone, and their push for the limelight provides hours of guilt-free entertainment. After all, these women made me laugh harder than the last 100 comedies I’ve seen in the movie theater combined; I’d say they were practically heroic.

Stay tuned — it’s bound to get better.

**UPDATE, 10/15/06: Choosing booty over bony, keepin’ it real over castrating sistah from hell, Flav chose Deelishis over New York in an eye-popping finale that ended with New York’s profanity-laden meltdown. A fatal boat ride did the trick, as New York told Flav how it was gonna be. Fearing that she would end up exactly like her shrewish mother, Flav tossed New York aside for the second time in as many seasons, though rumors abound that she will have her own reality show soon. And so ends a television landmark – a show that will live on as long as there are bitches, hos, babies with back, and possessive, blacker-than-thou chicks with eyes for cock, and souls for gold-digging. And to those four little girls in Birmingham, for helping to bring us this day.


Badonkadonk of the Week

Week 2, Flav is Blind: “I do want dark babies.” – Wire

Week 3, She Works Hard for Her Honey: (in Chinese) “Bootz really is a dirty whore.” – Payshintz

Week 4, Jelly on the Telly: (on Toasteee), “Now, I thought she was a stripper or a whore, but the porn never crossed my mind.” – Buckeey

Week 5, Famous Friends and Strangeness: “Wooooooowwwwww!” -  Flav, after Nibblz pulls out her tit poolside

Week 6, Photo Shoot to the Death: “There’s something really, really gutter-butt about Nibblz.” – New York

Week 7, Boxin’ Each Other Out: (to Flav) “You’re my little chocolate boy wonder.” – Deelishis

Week 8, Steppin’ Out Flav Style: “I am no back-burner bitch!” – New York

Week 9, Family Flavors: “Kill me now! Kill me now!” – New York’s mom

Week 10, Flav Belize in Love: “She’s down for her man. That’s love right there, G. Wooooooowwwwww!” – Flav

About Matt

Matt is the site’s Longest Serving Critic and chief misanthrope. He divides his time between classics of cinema and the most ridiculous movies he can find on Redbox.
Follow Matt: @mattcale52