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Step 1: SMILE. Smile when you’re mad, smile when you’re sad, smile when you’re pissed, smile when you’ve been kissed.
Step 2: Always think of the children.
Step 3: Love yo’ mama.
Step 5: Be light on your feet and smooth in your hips.
Step 6: Win whenever possible.
Step 7: If you and a friend are held up at gunpoint by NoHo police due to a mix-up regarding said friend’s Honda Civic, which was mistakenly reported stolen, cooperate like a stand-up citizen. Never devolve into a self-aggrandized asshole jerk that says, “Do you know who I am? Do you know who I am? You wanna how many Super Bowl rings I got, ya fuckin’ pig?? I’m gonna go all James Harrison on your ass!” AND after the Continue reading Seven Steps To Being A Perfect Gentlemasian Like Hines Ward
Filed under: Ben Roethlisberger, Blasians, Charity, Dancing With the Stars, DWTS, Hines Ward Is The Adorablest, Hines Ward Korean Mother, James Harrison, Nice Guys, Non-Profits, Pittsburgh Steelers, Smiley Guys, The Fuzz
Occupation: Lawyer, mom, former beauty queen
Known for: Helping foreigners sitting in Afghan jails. The Daily Beast‘s Elise Jordan just profiled the daughter of an American dad and South Korean mom, mother of three and 2004 Miss Wisconsin, who is currently a registered attorney with the American, British, Italian, Norwegian, German, and Canadian Embassies and recently negotiated the release of high-profile Brit detainee Bill Shaw. Motley wears neither a dress, veil nor headscarf in trial and is, according to Jordan, “one of the most respected lawyers in Kabul.”
Motley, who was crowned Mrs. Wisconsin in 2004, grew up in Milwaukee and earned her law degree at Marquette University. She had never traveled outside the U.S. before she began working to rebuild Afghanistan’s legal system in 2008 as a part of the State Department’s Justice Sector Program. Traveling around the countryside—visiting women’s prisons, juvenile detention centers, and some of Afghanistan’s roughest and toughest jails—she found that “not only were due process violations being ignored for virtually all of the accused persons, but there were quite a few foreigners trapped within the legal and prison system,” she says.
Filed under: Afghan Jails, Afghanistan, Attorney General, Awesome Ladies, Balls of Steel, Beautiful Ladies, Beauty Queens, Bill Shaw, Blasians, Bribery, Death Row, Foreign Lawyer In Kabul, Foreigners, Fraud, International Law, Jails, Justice System, Kabul, Kim Motley, Kimberly Motley, Languishing, Lawyers, Locked up abroad, Miss Wisconsin 2004, Moms, Morality, Negotiating, Prisons, Release, Security, The Daily Beast, Threats, Westerners, Women
Name: Hines Ward
Occupation: Pittsburgh Steelers wide receiver and newly-appointed member of the President’s Advisory Commission on Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders
Known for: Four Pro Bowl selections; a pair of Super Bowl hardware; being voted Super Bowl XL MVP; Steelers career records for receptions, receiving yards, and receiving TDs; donating $1 million to create the Helping Hands Foundation, which works to improve literacy among children in the U.S. and, in Korea, fights discrimination against biracial youth like Hines, who’s Korean and African-American; being Amazian of the Week twice; making Diana smile every Sunday; reprezenting in the Obama administration.
Also named to the President’s Advisory Commission on Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders? The unstoppable Ramey Ko–fellow Texasian, municipal judge, founder of Asian Americans for Obama, and hero of that unfortunate Betty Brown name-changing kerfuffle. Congratulasians, Ramey!
For a complete list of the President’s Advisory Commission on Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders appointees, click here.
Filed under: Amazians, Biracial People, Blasians, Hines Ward, Hines Ward President's Advisory Commission on Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders, Mixed People, Mixed-Race People, Pittsburgh Steelers, President Barack Obama, Ramey Ko, The Pro Bowl, The Super Bowl
Tiger Woods returns to golf next week at the Masters golf tournament in Augusta, GA, which is all a lot of people–myself included–have wanted since news of his multiple extramarital affairs surfaced. Golf may be boring, but nothing’s more boring than seeing Tiger’s “Hey Sexy, What Are You Wearing?” text messages dominate the headlines and knowing the dull minutiae of his life. I mean, porn mistresses and turkey club sandwiches? Could you be more pedestrian?!
There’s only one problem with Tiger’s return, and that’s how the media’s predicting things will go. Not with his golf swing, mind you, but with his
soon-to-be-ex wife, Elin.
Filed under: Blasians, Cheaters, Elin Nordegren, Golf, Stand by Your Man, Tammy Wynette, The Masters Golf Tournament, This is Bullshit, Tiger Woods, Tiger Woods Affair, Tiger Woods Affairs, Tiger Woods Marriage, Tiger Woods Returns, Tiger Woods Sex Scandals, Who Knew Golf Could Get You Laid?
Happy birthday to Chanel Iman, whose lanky limbs and luscious lips turned the ripe old age of 20 on Monday!
And since we’ve endured enough Blasian falsehoods for the week, let us celebrate one Blasian truth: this little lady is only going to get better and better and better with age. Y’all know it’s true.
[Chanel Iman on MySpace]
As Gawker aptly pointed out yesterday, nearly every hack comedian in America managed a take on this setup: “Blasian Tiger Woods crashes his Escalade.”
There are many versions, but the joke goes something like this:
Tiger Woods crashed his Escalade yesterday!
Well you know, he’s Black and Asian [pause for yuks].
And of course… the Black part of him bought the Cadillac [insert ghetto grin] and the Asian part of him was driving [insert buck teef]!
Click here for the sampler flight of punchlines.
Surprisingly, though, not one comedian seemed to find a way to make the “joke” funny. ZzZZZzzZzzZZZzZzzzzzZzzzz.
Thanks, Jasmine and Colin!
Filed under: Asian Drivers, Bad Driving, Bad Jokes, Blasians, Buck Teef, Cadillac, Escalade, George Lopez Is Criminally Unfunny, Jo Koy, Lame, Stereotypes, Tiger Woods, Tiger Woods Crash, Tiger Woods Runs Car Into Fire Hydrant, Wanda Sykes, ZZzzzZzZzZZzzzz
Name: Sonja Sohn
Hails from: Virginia
Occupation: Actress and activist
Why She’s a Babe: As Detective Kima Greggs on the best television show of all time, The Wire, Sonja proved that she could drink, smoke, fuck, and fuck up her relationships right alongside the big boys. And now the Blasian former slam poet–who goes by her Korean American mother’s maiden name because her father didn’t approve of her career choice–is turning her experiences from the show and from filming in the bleakest neighborhoods of Baltimore into a nonprofit called “reWIRED For Change,” a life-skills, violence prevention, and self-esteem-building program targeting at-risk youth, ages 14-24. This along with The Wire being taught as a course at Harvard next year makes it almost seem like the show never died, went to TV heaven, and left me canceling HBO, watching all five seasons on DVD over and over like a fiend, and in a state of permanent mourning.
After watching Hines Ward fumble what should have been a game-winning ball at the end of the fourth quarter against the Tennessee Titans last night, I wasn’t worried. I was shocked–because Ward simply doesn‘t suffer accidents like that, especially five yards from the goal line–but deep down, I knew the Steelers would hold the game into OT and pave the way for Jeff Reed to take it home.
Ward was shocked, too. He took it hard. Real hard. In fact, every time the camera cut to him from the moment of that gaffe until the game reached its final tally at 13-10, the usually-grinning Ward was hurting, hating himself. His eyes said it all–If he hadn’t been on a field with 26,000 tons of burly dudes, he would have been sobbing his ass off.
I wanted to jump through the television, transport myself from my L.A. living room to the chilly bench at Heinz Field, run over to him with a gatorade and a towel, and give him a big ol’ hug. I wanted to tell him: Buddy, it’s okay. It was a mistake, but one our team overcame. It’s hard for you because you don’t often make mistakes. You don’t understand failure, because it is unfamiliar to you. But dude, even almost-perfect people have imperfect moments. Like when my dad is shocked that he’s lost something (because he’s a robot and NEVER LOSES ANYTHING), or pissed when he sneezes, because he can’t believe his body would dare allow sickness–he doesn’t like it, but it happens. Try to let it go, honey pie. For this one colossal fuckup, you have and will make up for it with about nine-hundred bajillion superhuman awesome feats. You’re good. There’s no question about it. Nobody’s mad atcha. Let’s turn that frown upside down!!!
But I couldn’t transport myself to Pennsylvania. I could only watch as Ward sighed a pained air-gulp of relief as Reed’s kick sailed between the posts to end the contest. He tucked his head down and walked out of the stadium, weighed down with shame even though the Steelers walked away from the game 1-0. I realized that there was no consoling him (he’s a superstar blasian for crying out loud. Poor guy probably spent all night alternating acts of flogging himself with intense weight training and repeated recitation of: “You almost ruined it for everyone, you stupid jerk. Everyone, you stupid jerk! Agh! Stupid. Stupid!”). At least not for awhile.
This morning, assuming that there had been a good five minutes for photo-ops, I trolled the web for snaps of a forlorn Ward with tears in his eyes. But neither NFL.com nor ESPN seemed to find it necessary to document a close-up of his shame in their galleries.
Perhaps none of us want to see Ward make mistakes. We’d rather see him smile.
The only time I cried Tuesday during the Michael Jackson memorial was in the middle of it, when I went back to sleep after an awful night of tossing and turning and dreamed that I was crying, uncontrollably, that hiccupy, face-contorting, ugly kind of crying. It was unclear in the dream why I was crying, but I remember being surprised by my tears. And then I woke up and watched the rest of the memorial service, which I had recorded, dry-eyed.
There was something so chilling about mourning a man in the most public of ceremonies whose great tragedy was that he had never had a private life. Even in death, there wasn’t any way for Michael Jackson to walk–or be driven in a casket–down the street unnoticed.
And the memorial service itself, while undoubtedly providing fans some kind of catharsis–and entertainment, searing into our brains one last time this notion that Michael was the consummate entertainer–felt strangely like an awards show and not a funeral, an awards show with a peculiar dress code: black clothing, sad faces, choked-back tears. (Except for Mariah, who, god bless her, adorned her mourning garb with a Farrah Fawcett-worthy hair flip, cleavage down to there, and sequins.) Everyone who eulogized Michael was so famous, chyrons identifying them to the general public were dispensed with by and large.
Perhaps that’s why I found Judith Hill‘s performance of “Heal the World” towards the end of the service so moving. Hill, who’s half-black and half-Japanese and whose parents met in a funk band in the 70′s, was scheduled to be one of Michael’s backup singers during his shows in London, and was, until yesterday, a complete unknown. Hours before Rolling Stone identified her, our friend Raymond, cofounder of URB magazine, Tweeted her identity and website (I don’t know how he figured it out, he’s just brillz that way).
Every time she sang the line “heal the world,” I thought she might actually do it. There was joy tempering the pain, and unlike so many of the other performances of the day, hers didn’t feel produced–in the sense of “lights, camera, action”–for an audience. Hill’s rendition of the song Michael once said was the one he was most proud to have created wasn’t transmitted through this thick static of celebrity, performance, apology, legacy-asserting, and possibly fake-tears. Which is why it almost brought me to real ones. And I think I might have cried if I knew what exactly I was crying for, unlike in my dream, where I cried and cried for no reason.
Would I be crying for him? Me? Those lost moments of childhood, jumping on my bed, singing every line that I could make out in Thriller, believing there was no greater happiness?
Hails from: The East Bay, CA
Occupation: San Francisco District Attorney and California Attorney General candidate
Why She’s a Babe: SF District Attorney Kamala Harris is hot because she’s tough. She’s tough on gun felonies, child assaults, hate crimes, and violent crime in general. The only thing she isn’t tough on is, obvs, the eyes. She’s also the Queen of Firsts: the first woman elected District Attorney of San Francisco, the first African-American voted to that office in California, the first Indian-American to hold that position in the United States. And her next move? Becoming the first female Attorney General of the state of California in 2010.
To learn more about Kamala Harris’s 2010 campaign for CA Attorney General, go to her official website.
Become a fan of Kamala’s on Facebook here.
Filed under: Badasses, Blasians, California Attorney General Race 2010, East Bay, firsts, Kamala D. Harris, Kamala Devi Harris, Kamala Harris, Mixed People, San Francisco District Attorney, We Love Being First
Name: Dave Roberts
Hails from: Southern California
Ethnicity: Blasian (Roberts’ mother is Japanese)
Occupation: Retired baseball player and newly-hired NESN studio analyst
Why He’s a Babe: Admittedly, I’m biased. Because without Dave Roberts and The Steal, there is no Bloody Sock Comeback after being down 3-0 to the Yankees in the 2004 ALCS, there is no World Series win for the first time in 86 years, there is probably–if you subscribe to the Ray Bradbury school of thought where the future hinges on the smallest of incidents–no second World Series win in 2007. There is most likely only more misery, pessimism, and teeth-gnashing for Red Sox Nation, forever and ever amen. But what’s so appealing about the former outfielder, really, is that he was undersized as a player, not a power hitter, not a star, with a a so-so throwing arm–totally forgettable, in many ways–but he always managed to find a way on base and to make an impact in a game, earning a spot in the top 10 in steals for five straight seasons when he played for the Dodgers, the Padres, and the Giants in the National League (it would have been six straight had he not come in a paltry…11th in 2007). And playing above your god-given talent level? That’s the definition of being a baller. And being a baller is, as they’d say in New England, wicked hot. Plus, look at those adorable crinkly eyes!
Roberts is once again proving just how scrappy and memorable he is by filling in in the booth for beloved Sox color commentator Jerry “Rem Dawg” Remy while Remy recovers from lung cancer surgery. Of Roberts’s game-calling debut, play-by-play announcer Don Orsillo said what’s been said of Roberts innumerable times throughout his unlikely career: “I couldn’t have been more impressed.”
Why She’s a Babe: Well, for one thing, Chanel, who was named after Coco Chanel and the supermodel Iman, is only 19, so she’s actually a babe, as in a babe-in-the-woods. And while she’s been modeling since she was 13, she’s maintained a certain fresh-faced innocence about her (Flashing peace signs! Winking at Anna Wintour!), a fact that made Tyra cry on her talk show and has been widely attributed to the hands-on involvement of Chanel’s mama, China Robinson, who is half-Korean and half-black. And while she’s being billed as the new Naomi, she’ll still put unflattering photos of herself on her MySpace page and give them cute captions like “
Recently, Chanel signed on to co-host an updated version of MTV’s awesomely awful ’90′s show about fashion, House of Style. We’re betting Chanel won’t be as wooden as the show’s original host, Cindy Crawford, although we’re praying the new House of Style will be just as kitschy and bizarre as ever.