HKofsesshoumaru

I don't know lady personally but this is what "lady means to me" as you put it: I think Lady is very upfront with her views and blunt honesty is a real gift. She never candy coats anything and she always posts topics that are so critical to our everyday life. Getting the word out on a topic can be the flicker that gets the wildfire of change going. Lady, thank you for bringing so many important topics to light and educating us here on AC. Hopefully that didn't sound sappy or lame-_-;

I found this article on MSN today and I thought it was kind of a good topic because so many women (and men too, believe or not) are obsessed with their appearence. I have to admit I had a HUGE body over haul plan with a laundry list of surgeries I wanted even though my husband is very much against it. It's fun to dream but after watching a few of how some of these surgeries are done, the scar tissue and possible side effects, I think I'm going to save myself the trouble. Not to mention the money. ~HK Why Men Crave Real (Not Perfect) Bodies Actor Gabriel Olds has dated his fair share of surgically enhanced women. Now he tells us why most men prefer the real deal—“flaws” and all. I met Tessa* at a premiere party in Hollywood several summers ago. It was held in a decked-out airline hangar, and everything, from the stunning cocktail waitresses to the champagne fountain, was over-the-top. But even in the midst of all that glitz, Tessa was the main attraction. She was a slender, vibrant redhead in a bright orange dress—you couldn’t miss her. After a few minutes of sneaking nervous glances in her direction, I got up the guts to approach. "You’re wearing my favorite color," I said. "I like orange because it rhymes with—" More from Glamour <LI class=first>16 Sneaky, Sexy Acts of Seduction Top 20 Sex Dos and Don’ts! 10 most embarrassing, baffling, just plain insane sex and love situations All-Time Biggest Hollywood Sex Myths 101 Ways to Have the Best Sex of Your Life "Nothing," she finished. The spark was undeniable. Tessa was smart—an investment banker—and had a great laugh. Somehow, she was still single. When she casually slipped me her card at the end of the night, I was ecstatic. On our date the following week, things got even better. Tessa wore a clingy black dress, and over dinner she lit up with stories of four-million-a-minute losses in the futures market. Sexy. When she asked me back to her place after the check came, I couldn’t say yes fast enough. Soon, as we stood in her hallway, groping each other like teenagers, my hand fumbled to her chest, anticipating the plush, nurturing flesh of her… Wait a minute. Was her breast rippled? As I felt the telltale implant bag under her skin, I thought, Damn it—fake boobs. My mind overflowed with images of hospitals and scalpels. I froze up, and Tessa noticed. "You’re acting weird," she said. "I am not. I mean, maybe I am. It’s just, um, are these, uh," I stammered, still sheepishly groping at her chest. "Are you frisking me?" she asked. I stammered on. "Get out," she said. Before I knew what had hit me, I was back in my car, driving away from the first woman who’d sparked my interest in months. What just happened? Was I really going to let plastic surgery get in the way of my search for love—again? That’s right. Tessa wasn’t the first surgically enhanced woman I’d dated, and she wouldn’t be the last. Let me explain: I’m an actor in my thirties, and I live in Los Angeles, a town that seems overrun with silicone. Before I met Tessa I’d already dated women with nose jobs, huge breast enhancements and lips plumped to bee-stung proportions. With each of these women, I’d tell myself that what they did with their bodies was their choice, that it wasn’t my place to judge. But then questions would fill my head: Is this woman really who she seems to be? Am I dating the person or the persona? Inevitably my attraction to them floundered, and the relationship did too. I had, it seemed, a real issue with all the nipping and tucking going on in the dating world. And this wasn’t just an L.A. phenomenon either—I have college friends who’ve noticed the same trend in America’s heartland. In 2006, according to the American Society of Plastic Surgeons, there were nearly 11 million cosmetic procedures in the U.S.—that’s nearly a 50 percent increase from 2000. Certainly, men are partially responsible for this trend. We can be superficial creatures: abandoning faithful life partners for younger, prettier versions, TiVo-ing Skinemax movies and wondering why we, mere mortals, aren’t married to the likes of Jenna Jameson. But as much as we lust after images of hyper-real beauty in the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue or even in the apartments or cubicles next door, we don’t quite know how to react when those unreal bodies actually belong to the woman in our lives. Was surgery something I could handle? Or was it time to start looking for a "natural" woman, "flaws" and all? It would take me three more relationships and a handful of blunders to figure that out—starting with Mia… Page 2 met Mia soon after the Tessa "frisking" incident, and I was relieved that all of her looked and felt natural. She was pretty and feisty, cracking me up with stories about her two schnauzers with rhyming names. Within weeks of meeting, we were an item, taking weekend trips and storing toothbrushes at each other’s apartments. So imagine my surprise when, during a rainy day many months later, Mia decided to show me an old photo album—and I didn’t recognize anyone in the pictures. "Where are you?" I asked. Silence. Finally, she laughed nervously and said, "I’m right there, silly." I looked closer. Same hair, same smile, but when I finally focused between her eyes, I blurted, "You had a nose job?!" I was baffled, and more than a little hurt. We’d been dating for almost a year. She’d trusted me enough to tell me about losing her virginity and her secret dreams of moving to Spain, so why hadn’t she trusted me enough to tell me about her surgery? She made light of it, and insisted there was nothing to talk about, but I couldn’t let it go. It seemed dishonest. A lie by omission, surely—but also a lost opportunity for intimacy. Why had she gotten the nose job? How did it feel before and after? These were things I wanted to know. And once I realized she didn’t feel the need to share them with me, the trust between us was gone. Our relationship ended pretty quickly after that. Trying to see past the nips and tucks Not long after things went south with Mia, I met an ad executive who was elegant and quirky (one of my favorite combinations) and whose proportions seemed perfectly normal. I asked her to dinner, and we met a few weeks later at a Japanese restaurant. But something was different about her that night. As she nibbled at a bowl of edamame, I figured it out: Her lower lip seemed much fuller than it was the first time we’d met—it looked like the mouths of actresses I’d worked with who’d gotten collagen and talked about it openly. And since those actresses were so comfortable discussing it, I felt comfortable asking the ad exec, "When’d you get your work done?" "Work done?" she shot back. "Who do you think I am, a stripper?" I was beginning to get the picture: Women might chat about their surgery—or adventures at the dermatologist’s office—with near strangers, but the new guy they’re dating is probably the last person they feel like sharing with. If I wanted to know whether my date still had all her God-given parts, I needed to figure it out from visual cues alone. When it came to implants, if the boobs were pert with no bra: fake. If they were too rounded on top: fake. Needless to say, my obsession with all of this became a topic of great amusement for my coupled friends. "What was it this time, Gabe?" they’d ask when we gathered for dinner. Page 3 Then I met Callie, who didn’t make me guess. She singled me out at a friend’s birthday party, regaling me with childhood stories, most of which involved some sort of brawl. "By the way," Callie suddenly said, "these fake boobs are so not me." This was a change: I’d hardly had time to notice her breasts—all my attempts to check her out discreetly had been foiled by her gaze, and she was already revealing that they weren’t real. Her forthrightness was a breath of fresh air, and I felt comfortable asking why she’d gotten fake boobs in the first place— if they weren’t "her"? It turned out a former boyfriend had woken her up one morning with a very romantic question: "Hey, you ever think about getting better boobs?" Callie loved this guy, and after a series of failed relationships, she wanted to please him, so she went out and bought big, D-cup implants a few months later. Unsurprisingly, they broke up soon after that, and Callie was left with a very strange relationship souvenir. Some girls have tattoos of old lovers’ names; Callie had an $8,000 pair of breasts. I’d started to really like Callie. And as we talked about the problems her implants caused for her—the way people took her less seriously at work, the unsettling way she no longer recognized herself in the mirror—I came to a realization about why I was so wary of women with plastic surgery. As far as I could tell, almost all the women I’d met who had changed their bodies through surgery had either done it to bandage some adolescent body issue or to make themselves more attractive to men. I didn’t like that—it didn’t seem like a celebration of beauty, but a scrambling attempt to fix something. What I wanted was to be with a woman who worshiped herself as much as I worshiped her. I mean, come on, this is the female form here, the most beautiful thing on earth. To me, surgery somehow implied a lack of confidence. It was as if something purchased to say, "Hey, check me out," actually said, "I don’t like myself very much." I knew that in some ways, this was a ridiculous generalization. Women get surgery for all kinds of reasons. Who was I to decide that every person with a chiseled nose also came with psychological baggage? But I couldn’t help it; that’s how I felt. When I explained this theory to Callie, she said she understood. In fact, she told me, she’d decided to get her implants removed. Great, I thought. Callie would get back her real body, and I would get a girlfriend with natural breasts. But part of her transformation, apparently, included cutting me out of her life. I’ll never know exactly why she disappeared without a word after her surgery, but I have a feeling she wanted to rethink her relationships with men—what they wanted from her, and what she was willing to do for them. I have to admit, I understand. And looking back now, I can appreciate what she taught me: that choosing to have surgery doesn’t make you a dishonest person. Understanding what I really needed After that, determined to change my dating luck, I tried looking for women outside of my Hollywood circle—at the gym, at the grocery story, even at the library. That’s where I met Kara. Kara was a novelist from New York who looked lean and fit and, best of all, completely real, in jeans and a T-shirt. When I thought about getting my hands on her au naturel parts, my mind reeled. During our second make-out session, she stopped me as my hands slipped under her shirt. "Don’t get too excited," she joked. "They’re awful." Were they? Well, one was noticeably larger than the other, and they didn’t look like breasts I was used to seeing on lingerie billboards, but I loved that they were…hers. Kara turned out to be one of the great loves of my life. We dated long distance until the lack of regular contact drove us apart. Sometimes I think I’m still not over her. In fact Kara (and her gorgeously imperfect body) helped me figure out that dating women who’d been under the knife would probably never feel right to me. There are a thousand enhanced goddesses out there who will one day make other men very happy. I know those women are worth dating, and I’ve fallen in love with a handful of them myself. But I’m pretty sure that the woman for me will deal with her physical peccadilloes with humor and self-acceptance, not surgery. This is the part I think women don’t understand. When a guy falls in love, his lover’s body parts become bewitching. I’m not going to tell you that our heads don’t turn when we see a stacked blond walking down the street. But when we fall for you—really, really fall for you—you hijack our sense of beautiful. What’s sexy to us? You—in the "before" picture. *Names and identifying details have been changed. Gabriel Olds has appeared on CSI, Law & Order: SVU and Six Feet Under. He’s usually the bad guy (on TV). His most recent film is Life of the Party.

There was a man that haunted my old house, at least I am convinced there was because I only heard a man's voice. My parents took me to see a child Psych. to make sure I wasn't fucking nuts. They found nothing wrong with me. Once we moved out of that house I never heard any kind of voice like that again. I heard whispers once when I was messed up and up for a week straight but that was due to a substance. Substances can make you see and hear things. I doubt this was the case in your situation. Check the history of your house/land. You may very well be haunted.

Lack of sleep can do very interesting things to your head. You can see things or hear things that are not there. However, If you keep hearing voices more and more often I would talk to your doctor.

Hello and Welcome.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LADY!!! Ice Cream cakes are the best!

I would say bury it somewhere special that you and your pet liked to go but that can be an expensive offence especially if it's on state land (if you get caught). Don't buy into the vet's idea of a 'pet cemetary'. Both our dogs my mother said went to a 'pet cemetary' when we had to put 2 down for being sick. However, I later found out that the vet's office put them in trash bags and took them to a city dump. Never trust those idiots. You could cremate your dog like a person and put their ashes in a nice box or urn? That would cost you a bit though.. You can stuff a pet and perserve them (which I do not recommend and it's just plain creepy). Maybe a neighbor would let you bury your pet in their yard if you don't have the room? I dunno I have seen all of thee above done by a variety of people. People love their pets as much as their kids. I think these days you can do anything you can do for a human for a pet.

How do you accidently throw a chair in a wall? LOL^_^;

They make these wire mesh pieces that you can use to cover up holes in the wall. If you have a big hole like someone went through a wall..that's a bit more work. A small fist hole can be pretty easy to fix and not too expensive. My dad is a general contractor so I have had to lend a hand on his place a few times. Remove the broken pieces or jagged edges carefully without making the hole bigger. Sand paper around the area so it's smooth and you have no jagged edges. You can cover the hole with a metal mesh patch (that you can get at a Home Depot). Or you can use plastic mesh tape. I suggest the metal mesh patch. Makes it easier. Cover the mesh spackling compound using a putty knife and allow the putty to dry. Lightly sand the area, primer and repaint. Should be good as new.

Wow. China is trying too hard to hard with the perfect image thing. I wouldn't expose my kids to this kind of attention because of how they are judged based on physical appearence. Could damage their self image early on.

Not only have I seen it, but I own it. Nobody can top the original cult classic. For all of you fans..you can sign the Stop the Remake petition here. http://www.stoptheremake.com/ FUCK YOU MTV!!

LMAO now lets see the marcarena

Even if you do not like Usher you have to admit this is pretty funny! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ur8AwQHusZw

So, maybe I'm a bit weird but I thought what better way to celebrate my husband's birthday than going to one of Arizona's finest gentleman's clubs? I thought it was a great idea! My BFF and his g/f came as well and the guys sat back and watched the ladies dance. My husband isn't the type of man to get wasted and park him self at the stadge. He rarely drinks and 2 beers ( $6.50 for a bottled Heineken!!!) was his limit. Especially, after that price. LOL. I enjoyed the club. I had been to this club once before and everybody who works there is very nice, you can have a full dinner there, and it"s comfortable to sit in. It isn't like those cheap places where women named Bambi have 5 kids and have nothing better to do than rub their saggyness on you in a roach infested, muggy, bowling alley stinking box of a club. *cringes* All in all I had a kick ass night out. Won't be able to get too many nights out with baby, but when we do it is totally worth it. Too bad that I wasn't allowed to take pics inside the club. It was so nice inside.

An Ode to Hot Buttered Genius By Mark Anthony Neal | TheRoot.com From his days as a behind-the-scenes songwriter, a look back at the man who single-handedly changed the sound of soul music. Getty Images Type Size Aug. 11, 2008--That the career of Isaac Hayes could be neatly packaged into two generationally specific cultural touchpoints like Shaft and the Comedy Central animated series South Park says volumes about the man's longevity. But the timeless soundtrack that Hayes produced in support of Gordon Parks' groundbreaking blaxploitation film, the animated character of Chef (a hammer-like nod to that same film) and the later controversy surrounding Hayes' Scientology-related departure from South Park, provide little context for the genius of the man. At his peak in the late 1960s and early 1970s, Isaac Hayes' music and image embodied the potency and vibrancy of blackness during one of the most tumultuous eras in American history. Perhaps the best measure of Isaac Hayes' social and political importance may be glimpsed in an incident in 1972 at the Wattstax music festival at the Los Angeles Coliseum. Modeled on Woodstock, Wattstax was designed to give something back to the black community, especially Watts, in the aftermath of the 1965 riots. Black music mogul Al Bell and a young Rev. Jesse Jackson came to the concert to expound on the virtues of black politics and black business. But it was clear that the most important person to hit the stage that day was Black Moses, aka Isaac Hayes, who served as the closing act. Writing about WattStax in his new book, In Search of the Black Fantastic: Politics and Popular Culture in the Post-Civil Rights Era, Richard Iton observed: "Toward the end of the concert as Jackson passed the microphone to Hayes after introducing him, there was an exchange of words between the two. It was unclear what was said, but what was apparent was that Hayes, the show's headliner, had the power, and Jackson looked a bit resentful that that was the case." Iton's comments are a reminder of how significant a figure Hayes was to black America, despite recent caricatures of him. Hayes was never comfortable being referred to as "Black Moses," calling the term sacrilegious, but at least on that day in 1972, it was not only true; it was the Gospel. .prWrap,.prWrap DIV,.prWrap TABLE,.prWrap TABLE TBODY,.prWrap TABLE TR,.prWrap TABLE TD,.prWrap IMG{margin:0px 0px 0px 0px;padding:0px 0px 0px 0px;border:0px 0px 0px 0px;overflow:visible;direction:ltr;background:none;background-color:transparent;} <IMG style="FLOAT: none; WIDTH: 1px; HEIGHT: 1px" height=1 width=1 name=prti> Born in Covington, Tenn. in 1942, Hayes was just out of high school when Stax, a local recording label in Memphis, began to make a name in the field of soul music. With acts like Otis Redding, Carla Thomas, Rufus Thomas and Booker T. & the MGs, Stax was poised to become one of the most important producers of soul music by the end of the 1960s, second only to Motown in that regard. With the shadow of Stax all over Memphis, Hayes paid his dues by performing for a time in the group Sir Isaac & The Doo-Dads and putting in time at the Pleasant Green Baptist Church on Sunday mornings. Hayes, a piano player by trade, began to hang out at Stax's studios and when the label house pianist Booker T. Jones (of Booker T. and the MGs) went off to college, Hayes began to do session work with the label. That work eventually led to a relationship with another local musician David Porter, who became Hayes' songwriting partner. When the Atlantic label, which distributed Stax's music, brought their act Sam & Dave down to Memphis with the Stax musicians it was Hayes' and Porter's songs that they recorded. When people think back nostalgically on tracks like "Hold On, I'm Coming," "Soul Man" and "When Something is Wrong with My Baby," they recall the recording artists Sam & Dave, but it was the young, hungry Hayes, along with Porter, who tapped the soul and constructed the rhythms that would become mainstays in the soundtrack of the era. Hayes and Porter became in-demand songwriters and producers. But Isaac Hayes wanted more for himself, and that opportunity came in 1969. After the tragic death of Otis Redding in December 1967, Stax found itself at a crossroads. The terms of the label's distribution deal with Atlantic Records called for the latter to take ownership of all of the former's recording masters. In 1968, Stax was a label that had no back catalogue and was mourning the death of its biggest star. Though Stax was a white-owned label that specialized in black music, by 1968, it was being directed by an African American named Al Bell. In response to the crisis at hand, Bell called for a "soul explosion" where Stax would flood the market with product, putting out 27 albums in a short period of time. As Hayes told TheWashington Post a decade ago, "[bell] needed a catalogue." In exchange for Hayes' assistance on those 27 albums, Bell agreed to let the young composer record his own album. That album was Hot Buttered Soul (1969), and it would almost single-handedly change the sound of soul music. A year after its release, Hayes would remark "I didn't give a damn if Hot Buttered Soul didn't sell because there were 26 other LPs to carry the load. I just wanted to do something artistic, with total freedom." That freedom can be heard on virtually every track on Hot Buttered Soul, as Hayes transformed well-known pop songs like Dionne Warwick's "Walk on By" and Glen Campbell's "By the Time I Get to Phoenix" into lengthy excursions through soul. "By the Time I Get to Phoenix" clocks in at more than 18 minutes, including the nearly 9-minute spoken introduction. Rock groups like The Grateful Dead and Led Zeppelin would turn pop-music conventions on their head in the late 1960s with long-playing singles, and Hayes helped introduce that same sensibility into soul music. Hayes' subsequent recordings like The Isaac Hayes Movement (1970), …To Be Continued (1970) and the double-album Black Moses (1971) marked soul music as something that was vital, personal, yet expansive and the resonances of that could be heard in the music of Motown ("Papa was a Rolling Stone"), the fledging Philadelphia International Records ("Back Stabbers") and, of course, the music of Barry White, whose use of strings and spoken-word intros borrowed respectfully from the Isaac Hayes musical playbook. A signature feature of Hayes' music in this era was his "raps"—spoken introductions to some of his more personal tracks. As he told TheNew YorkTimes back in 1972, "There's nothing fictional in my raps…I might elongate or extend an idea or something like that, but the basic thing that comes through is from experience that I've had." Nowhere was this more the case than on Black Moses, which was, among many things, a trip down recent black musical history as Hayes covered tracks like Jerry Butler's "Need to Belong" and "Never Gonna Give You Up;" "Going in Circles" by The Friends of Distinction and Dionne Warwick's "I'll Never Fall in Love Again." In each case the music offered up something that was unmistakably Isaac Hayes. The highlight of the recording is Hayes's 9-minute version of The Carpenters' white bread pop hit "Close to You" which likely inspired Luther Vandross to tackle the same group's "Superstar" a decade later. Had Hayes never recorded another note at this point, his place as one of the true architects of soul and funk would have been intact, but Shaft changed everything. There is perhaps no more enduring idea of the early 1970s in black America than of the image of a clean-shaven, sunglass-wearing, gold chain-vested Isaac Hayes with the "Theme from Shaft" playing in the background. It is an image of Hayes that has been dutifully caricatured, as have so many other references to the Black Power Era. In those heady days, Hayes was simply referred to as "Black Moses"—a name given to him by a Stax recording label staff member—in reference to the larger-than-life figure he cut within black America. In an era that was largely defined by black super heroes like Stokely Carmichael, Huey P. Newton, Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X, Isaac Hayes and his bald head was a marketer's dream, and the Stax label took every opportunity to take advantage of Hayes' real-world appeal. As label-mate Booker T. Jones recalled in the documentary Respect Yourself: The Stax Records Story, "Isaac's position to me was more of a social position than a musical position at Stax. Isaac became something of a symbol that was missing in African-American society." It was the soundtrack to the film Shaft—featuring "the black private dick that's a sex machine to all the chicks"—that introduced the rest of the world to Hayes. As Hayes recalled to NPR a few years ago, "They wanted a black leading man [Richard Roundtree], a black director [Gordon Parks Sr.], and a black composer. So since I was Stax's No. 1 artist at the time they chose me." Shaft helped establish the genre of blaxploitation film and crossed Hayes over to the mainstream. The influence of Shaft's soundtrack can be easily detected in that rash of soundtracks that came in its wake, including Curtis Mayfield's soundtrack recording for Superfly (directed by Gordon Parks Jr.), Marvin Gaye's work on the Trouble Man soundtrack and The Mack which featured the music of Willie Hutch. All have remained timeless totems to the blaxploitation era, though Shaft still remains a step ahead in terms of its impact. The soundtrack earned Hayes an Academy Award in 1972, making him the first African American to earn the award for a recording. Page 2 An Ode to Hot Buttered Genius Type Size In many ways Shaft was the apex of Hayes' career. Hayes' fortune mirrored closely those of Stax, the label that he left in 1974. By the end of the 1970s both had filed bankruptcy and represented a music style and politics that were decidedly out of favor in mainstream America and quite a few African-American households. Nevertheless Hayes continued recording and even dabbled in film, most famously in the parody I'm Gonna Git U Sucka (1990), which helped introduce the blaxploitation era to a younger generation. By the end of the 1990s, hip-hop acts like the Wu Tang Clan, the Geto Boys and Public Enemy were mining the Isaac Hayes catalogue for samples. Later, his signature baritone became the voice of South Park's "Chef" and the voice of the Nickelodeon's "Nick @ Night." With a new generation of fans, Hayes found advantage in the very caricatures that had come to define him. Mark Anthony Neal is professor of African-American studies at Duke University and a visiting scholar in the Annenberg School for Communication at the University of Pennsylvania. What a sad loss. RIP CHEF.

© AP Bernie Mac Actor, comedian and exasperated dad Bernie Mac dies at 50 Aug. 9, 2008, 3:36 PM EST CHICAGO (AP) -- Bernie Mac blended style, authority and a touch of self-aware bluster to make audiences laugh as well as connect with him. For Mac, who died Saturday at age 50, it was a winning mix, delivering him from a poor childhood to stardom as a standup comedian, in films including the casino heist caper "Ocean's Eleven" and his acclaimed sitcom "The Bernie Mac Show." Though his comedy drew on tough experiences as a black man, he had mainstream appeal — befitting inspiration he found in a wide range of humorists: Harpo Marx as well as Moms Mabley; squeaky-clean Red Skelton, but also the raw Redd Foxx. Mac died Saturday morning from complications due to pneumonia in a Chicago area hospital, his publicist, Danica Smith, said in a statement from Los Angeles. She said no other details were available. "The world just got a little less funny," said "Oceans" co-star George Clooney. Don Cheadle, another member of the "Oceans" gang, concurred: "This is a very sad day for many of us who knew and loved Bernie. He brought so much joy to so many. He will be missed, but heaven just got funnier." "This is a very sad day for many of us who knew and loved Bernie," said Don Cheadle, a member of the "Oceans" gang. "He brought so much joy to so many. He will be missed but heaven just got funnier." Mac suffered from sarcoidosis, an inflammatory lung disease that produces tiny lumps of cells in the body's organs, but had said the condition went into remission in 2005. He recently was hospitalized and treated for pneumonia, which his publicist said was not related to the disease. Recently, Mac's brand of comedy caught him flack when he was heckled during a surprise appearance at a July fundraiser for Democratic presidential candidate and fellow Chicagoan Barack Obama. Toward the end of a 10-minute standup routine, Mac joked about menopause, sexual infidelity and promiscuity, and used occasional crude language. Obama took the stage about 15 minutes later, implored Mac to "clean up your act next time," then let him off the hook, adding: "By the way, I'm just messing with you, man." Even so, Obama's campaign later issued a rebuke, saying the senator "doesn't condone these statements and believes what was said was inappropriate." But despite controversy or difficulties, in his words, Mac was always a performer. "Wherever I am, I have to play," he said in 2002. "I have to put on a good show." Mac worked his way to Hollywood success from an impoverished upbringing on Chicago's South Side. He began doing standup as a child, telling jokes for spare change on subways, and his film career started with a small role as a club doorman in the Damon Wayans comedy "Mo' Money" in 1992. In 1996, he appeared in the Spike Lee drama "Get on the Bus." He was one of "The Original Kings of Comedy" in the 2000 documentary of that title that brought a new generation of black standup comedy stars to a wider audience. "The majority of his core fan base will remember that when they paid their money to see Bernie Mac ... he gave them their money's worth," Steve Harvey, one of his co-stars in "Original Kings," told CNN on Saturday. Mac went on to star in the hugely popular "Ocean's Eleven" franchise with Brad Pitt and George Clooney, playing a gaming-table dealer who was in on the heist. Carl Reiner, who also appeared in the "Ocean's" films, said Saturday he was "in utter shock" because he thought Mac's health was improving. "He was just so alive," Reiner said. "I can't believe he's gone." Mac and Ashton Kutcher topped the box office in 2005's "Guess Who," a comedy remake of the classic Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn drama "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?" Mac played the dad who's shocked that his daughter is marrying a white man. Mac also had starring roles in "Bad Santa," "Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle" and "Transformers." But his career and comic identity were forged in television. In the late 1990s, he had a recurring role in "Moesha," the UPN network comedy starring pop star Brandy. The critical and popular acclaim came after he landed his own Fox television series "The Bernie Mac Show," about a child-averse couple who suddenly are saddled with three children. Mac mined laughs from the universal frustrations of parenting, often breaking the "fourth wall" to address the camera throughout the series that aired from 2001 to 2006. "C'mon, America," implored Mac, in character as the put-upon dad. "When I say I wanna kill those kids, YOU know what I mean." The series won a Peabody Award in 2002, and Mac was nominated for a Golden Globe and an Emmy. In real life, he was "the king of his household" — very much like his character on that series, his daughter, Je'niece Childress, told The Associated Press on Saturday. "But television handcuffs you, man," he said in a 2001 Associated Press interview before the show had premiered. "Now everyone telling me what I CAN'T do, what I CAN say, what I SHOULD do, and asking, `Are blacks gonna be mad at you? Are whites gonna accept you?'" He also was nominated for a Grammy award for best comedy album in 2001 along with his "The Original Kings of Comedy" co-stars Harvey, D.L. Hughley and Cedric The Entertainer. Chicago music producer Carolyn Albritton said she was Bernie Mac's first manager, having met him in 1991 at Chicago's Cotton Club where she hosted an open-mike night. He was an immediate hit, Albritton said Saturday, and he asked her to help guide his career. "From very early on I thought he was destined for success," Albritton said. "He never lost track of where he came from, and he'd often use real life experiences, his family, his friends, in his routine. After he made it, he stayed a very humble man. His family was the most important thing in the world to him." In 2007, Mac told David Letterman on CBS' "Late Show" that he planned to retire soon. "I'm going to still do my producing, my films, but I want to enjoy my life a little bit," Mac told Letterman. "I missed a lot of things, you know. I was a street performer for two years. I went into clubs in 1977." Mac was born Bernard Jeffrey McCullough on Oct. 5, 1957, in Chicago. He grew up on the city's South Side, living with his mother and grandparents. His grandfather was the deacon of a Baptist church. In his 2004 memoir, "Maybe You Never Cry Again," Mac wrote about having a poor childhood — eating bologna for dinner — and a strict, no-nonsense upbringing. "I came from a place where there wasn't a lot of joy," Mac told the AP in 2001. "I decided to try to make other people laugh when there wasn't a lot of things to laugh about." Mac's mother died of cancer when he was 16. In his book, Mac said she was a support for him and told him he would surprise everyone when he grew up. "Woman believed in me," he wrote. "She believed in me long before I believed." Mac's death Saturday coincided with the annual Bud Billiken Parade in Chicago, a major event in the predominantly black South Side that the comedian had previously attended. "It's truly the passing of one of our favorite sons," said Paula Robinson, president of the Black Metropolis National Heritage Area. "He was extremely innovative in putting his life experiences in comedic form and doing it without vulgarity. "He was an ambassador of Chicago's black community, and the national black community at large." Copyright 2008 Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed. RIP Bernie Mac. I loved you in 'The Player's Club'. You will be greatly missed.

The one above seems real. It freaked me out. The last video with the girl and the mirror seems fake to me.

So I have 3 weeks left of my pregnancy and I am wondering if anyone others mothers remember what those last few weeks were like? I don't really remember having this when I was prego with my daughter, who is alomst 4 now, but lately I have been really depressed. My OBG gave me an anti depressant a few weeks ago which I did research on before I ever started taking it, that is one of, if not thee safest one to take during pregnancy. I made it all the way to almost 8 months before I felt like this and had to start up on anti depressants again ( I havn't used them in years). It helped alot up untill this week. I feel so down in the dumps and I hate it. I can't do much since I keep putting myself into pre term labor ( I am obsessed with cleaning my house once a week. This includes scrubbing down EVERYTHING on a weekly basis). I don't have too much to be upset about. Yeah my car is gone but I am getting used to driving my husband's big ass durango. Money is tight, but everyone I know is kinda tight right now. It's working itself out. So...I dunno what came over me. Did anyone else have any issues like this these last weeks of pregnancy?

Yeah..but if you don't see a dentist it could become a bigger issue like your jaw coming undone everytime you grind. My friend would grind her teeth in her sleep and wake up with her jaw dislocated. She looked so freaky.

Are you left handed? I'm right handed and I clenched down on the right side of my jaw sometimes because of stress I don't realize I am doing it. Not only does it hurt my jaw but it gives me head and neck pain. I had an ear infection recently that caused to me to clench down that caused jaw pain too. Maybe you are grinding down on your teeth at night? Those are the things I can think of. I hate how the body does these weird random acts of violence on it's self. 2 weeks ago I wake up to go to the bathroom, lost feeling in the whole left side of my body and fell. I thought I was suddenly paralized for life. Turns out the baby rolled onto a major nerve in my lower back that runs from your lower back, through your ass and down to your calves. The doctor said there isn't shit they can do and I had to deal with it for then next few weeks. What a mind fuck it is when you can't control your own body or your body does some shit with out a memo it's going to happen. A memo would have been nice. Something like "Please remember that we are doing construction on the left side of your face over the next few days. Sorry for the inconvience" -Maintenance I dunno..I was trying to make a funny...

:xSo, I came across this video while looking for information on Meth use in pregnant women (in reguards to my sister) and how it affects the fetus. I came across the video below. This bitch in the video I found pissed me off because I feel that she is trying to make people to feel sorry for crack headed mothers with her 'no controled research on meth so how could they make conclusions on birth defects?' I want to rip this bitch's head off. Has any of these people ever seen a child born on meth and/or born to a meth addicted mother? I have and that little boy suffered from tremors, he was irritable, and he was up all the time. The mother got so tired of him she left him in the house and bolted. He was found later by the woman's parents and has been adopted to them. They were in denial this chick had a problem. She is the same bitch that my sister has hung around and got high with. Can't blame me for being concerened about my nephew safety. My sister was a good person and would never hurt a child, but cracked out..who knows. People like this bitch in the video piss me off so much because she makes it out like you should feel sorry for the mothers giving birth to addicted babies. Feel sorry for them because our prison system dosn't give all the best luxury birth options women not in jail/prison get. Drug addicted pregos don't give a fuck about a unborn life so why should we be made to feel sorry for them? I don't but that's my opinion. I just had to get this off my chest.

really? I swear it made anxiety worse in people...or maybe that's when you don't have any left. LOL

I hope this goes through. MJ has plenty of medical bennefits that help patients with Hep C and HIV. It's been shown over and over again. The goverment wants us addicted to their drugs. They loose money if we drop the pharmaceuticals and go for street drugs. It's all about control, I swear.

lol so what was the big deal for?

I know! My mother dosn't understand she is enabling my sister. My sister is my mom's 'baby' and I'm the married 'fuck up'. How is clean, sober and married a fuck up? Not to mention my mother is ALL OVER my sister's pregnancy, buying gifts etc..My mother boycotted my wedding (probably because my dad was there) and dosn't acknowledge I'm even pregnant. Personally, Both my mom and my sister are two posionous people in my life:slap: and untill they want to face reality I'm better off with out em.