RIP to Terrell (Finger) Muhammad. I really hate starting off Partyline on such a somber note but paying my respects to Terrell Muhammad – previously known as Terrell Finger – must be done. Some knew him as a local boxing legend. Others knew him as the kind spirit who worked the Lucas-Hunt and West Florissant area for the sake of the Nation of Islam. I knew him and his brother as certified party starters. Let me tell you, that if the Finger twins were at a party, they brought the turnup with them – even if it meant that they were tearing up the dance floor all by themselves. I really, really, really didn’t want this to be true. And I hate that so many of my Partylines have kicked off on a sad note. I’m sending prayers to his family, friends and all the folks – like me – whose souls were touched by his genuine spirit. He will be missed by all who were fortunate enough to be graced by his presence. I know for me, just riding down Lucas-Hunt and seeing him put me in a better mood.
Duped into the dungeon. I know I’m supposed to keep up with all kinds of entertainment and pop culture because of my line of work, but I just can’t get into everything. Well, I found out the hard way how dangerous my ignorance can be when I popped over to the Pageant for Kandi Koated presents the Welcome to the Dungeon Tour. I thought I was going to see Kandi Burruss use her heavy vocal cords to vibrate through some of Xscape’s greatest hits. If I watched the “Real Housewives of Atlanta” I would have known there was vibrating of a different kind happening on that stage. Too bad for me that I can’t get into women of a certain age arguing about which one is the richest and sexiest, because it cost me my innocence. Seriously, I’m not a prude by any means. But I was not ready for what Kandi and ‘nem – and y’all who packed it out – were serving up. I found out after the fact that some sort of false accusation about Kandi having Porscha locked in a dungeon inspired her to use the scenario as a marketing tool for her sex toy line. I have to admit; it was a stroke (no pun intended) of marketing genius. The folks came out in droves dressed in garments inspired by dominateme.com (I’m not sure if that’s a real website). I’m not judging anybody; I just wish I had known. I take that back, I am judging a few of y’all – particularly the ones who didn’t think people-watchers would know the difference between Victoria’s Secret and Wal-Mart’s Secret Treasure lingerie brands. Hey, to each its own. And I must say that while I was thinking “St. Louis has a whole lot of folks I didn’t know were freaks,” the organizers were backstage talking about how conservative the St. Louis crowd was. Wayment (yes, I said wayment), so this gentlemen with the two-toned bodysuit with the front made of rubber and the whole back (from neck to ankles) made of sheer nylon is conservative? I guess. I’m sure y’all want to hear about the show. Too bad nearly all of it was NSFP (Not Safe For Partyline). Deelishis, Trina, Tamar Braxton, Kandi and Ronnie DeVoe’s wife sprinkled in a few songs, but other than that, it was a lot going on. And by a lot going on, I mean a live, adult-only variety show. I was sad that Tamar said that she was saved and that this was just a role as she walked around in a nighty. Folks around me seemed to have the time of their lives though. It started out with “the grapefruit lady (yes, the technique from “Girls Trip”) and got more raunchy by the minute. But hey, who can be mad? That just ain’t my type of grown folks’ fun. Next time there will due diligence done on my part, so I won’t be gasping and clutching my chest with “No they didn’ts” and cramp y’all’s X-rated fun.
AfroSexy Cool turns 3. If I know one thing to be true, it’s that James Biko has the superpower of getting folks on the dance floor at his sets – and Saturday night was no different when I hopped over to Blank Space for the 3rd anniversary of AfroSexyCool. Yo, he could have a party at a gang-banging convention and have those Crips, Bloods and Gangster Disciples straight cutting a rug. Now, I will say that he caters to the black-to-the-basic and traditional hip-hop crowds – and neither one of them are known to shy from the dancefloor. However, Biko and his ability to curate classic cuts nonstop would have anybody out there pop-drop-and-locking.
Afrocentric family fun. Even though it took a whole lot of trying just to get up that hill to the World’s Fair Pavilion, I’m so glad I put my body through that high-impact cardio to fellowship with my folks at the African Arts Festival. I had an absolute ball – and spent more time watching the mainstage than I normally do because I had to force myself from spending another dime with all of those glorious vendors. Listen, you haven’t heard “Old Town Road” until a New Orleans Brass Band takes it on. And wasn’t that reggae act who closed out the stage on Monday night life more abundantly?
So fresh, so clean Sigmas and Zetas. I think my trip to the top of the World’s Fair Pavilion would have been less painful if I hadn’t been recovering from climbing the stairway to heaven at Lemp Grand Hall to party with the Sigmas and Zetas for their White Party. One more flight of those steep narrow things and I would have been at the top of Jack’s beanstalk. It was worth it though. The blue and white fraternal family had a beautiful spread – and a bunch of pretty people looking like they were on a luxury yacht to partake. Who was that wearing the glorious white jumpsuit with the wavy layer of fabric on the left side? Girl, you did that.
A piece of Poetic Justice. Because there was absolutely so much going on, by the time I made it to Poetic Justice, Corey Black and ‘nem were on their last round of folks. I will say that I enjoyed the poems of the sip that I got – especially that one from Ashya about getting her groove back with a boo in his early 20s. And girl, your whole look was every single thing. From the headwrap, the flowy tank top and the distressed jeans. Oh, and before I forget, somebody tell that Timothy to learn the words of a song before he starts asking folks to sing along. He still did a good job with his original material. But how you call yourself an R&B singer and don’t know the words to Mario’s biggest hit?