Lady Lego, rebooted


Remember the good old days?

When they only flavour Lego came in was “jaundice”?

Sadly, it’s evolved since your and my day. First they ruined the unity of Legoland by black-facing some and just saying every other group fell into the golden genre. And now Lego’s lady dolls are being revamped. That’s right. A new line of astronomers and paleontologists are being fashioned into plastic for your mini femme. This is funny because for a while there -all of their other “updates” catered toward girls were arguable fails. For example, there was the 2012 addition of female figurines with slimmed down physiques, juice, bars, and pet salons. And people cried “sexism!”. Then there was the pink and purple color scheme that they di-

Wait… did they say pet salon?! How cool is that?!

(Damn right I will.)

Much like the target audience (above, nomming on his entertainment), half of them can’t even speak. And the only shit they give about girl-toys is the one you get to clean up in their pants.

But as your mini-me begins to grow and tote around their beloved toy… why not have the childhood memento and its forever association be a tie to a profession that does some good in the world? Something that helps serve humanity and the greater goo-

Jesus Christ, is that Justin Bieber?

“Introducing Miss Crystal Heisenberg! (desert caravan and affable junkie not included)

The peanut gallery (me included) will always have something negative to say. And – yeah – the “slimmed down” version is kind of stupid whether we’re talking lady legos or man lego wrestlers trying to make weight (“Thanks but no thanks – coach says I can only eat kale this month”) It’s been a while – so bear with me here – but aren’t legos made of blocks? With bucketlike heads? Why slim ‘em down? They’re just metaphors for people. Not real scaled down representations of the real thing. I don’t think kids are gonna get confused and start breaking out yardsticks.


Just give that betch a bun (betches love buns). Or some eyelashes. Or paint a clam’s profile just under her ovaries and on top of her lab coat. But if you don’t – I really don’t care. Why? Because even though inadvertently walking on them feels like that time I walked across nails that never happened, they’re still awesome toys. And classic. But they should all be yellow – not some black and every other group on planet earth yellow (because that’s more racist than than saying “I’m not prejudiced! I talked to my black neighbor just the other day! I asked him how he was doing and everything.”)

Despite their sorta kinda fails since a few years back, I feel like this isn’t a bad move. It’s better than the slutty dolls I adored, emulated, and whose body and wardrobe I am still waiting patiently to transform into having any day now.


Ah, yes. She was why I wanted to work in a depressing office and bleach my hair. (Actually Christina Applegate’s “Don’t Tell Mom” character was the reason for that.) But mayhaps find a happy medium with the hairstyle?

I know plenty’a sexy labrats who look nada like this Scooby Doo Thelma looking thing.

Weekly Comic – “The Switch Fitter”


Inspired by a convo with my sister yesterday, I scratched out this doodle this A.M. super-quickly before I forgot the idea altogether (as the latter is usually what happens instead); hence the poor penmanship, shoddy artistic quality, and terrible upl- oh wait no. The terrible upload quality is compliments of my broken scanner.

Anyway, I don’t feel like writing today, so you get this instead. If the print’s too small, you can always click on it for the zigundo sized version.




“Why do black guys like fat white girls?”


“Why do black men like fat white girls?”

It’s a stereotypical inquiry that’s been the source for comedic fodder time and time again. In fact, go ahead and type “Why do black men…” into Google right now. Nothing more and nothing less. You tell me what you see first. It’s a blanket statement – something to which I never gave much thought or credence; but when some memes start circulating on social networks, I can’t help but have a laugh at the ensuing comments and think about it myself:


Your friend is correct, sir… and honestly, it has to do with two bad character flaws meeting each other halfway:


Well, put! But why?

In general, fat white girls seem to be the “grateful” types. They’re just happy to be getting some love at all! They’re willing to please, go the extra mile, and not complain when their man comes back at 6 AM, reeking of Victoria’s Secret perfume, with lipstick on his drawers and glitter on his goods. Why would she put up with it? Because when your ass has an ass, you hate yourself, keep eating to make yourself feel better about that fact, and want to make damn sure your dude doesn’t leave you; I mean – who else is going to love you as much as the guy who claims “You look good girl; don’t go on a diet!” while he’s out fkkng skinny bitches on the side?

Contrarily, a hot fit chick of any color who figures she’s being done wrong, feels she can be demanding, rant about it, maybe key up his whip, etc. Why? Because if shit goes down and they split up, she knows she always has other options and someone is going to willingly put up with her BS for at least long enough to hit it a few times.


Now, if we want to turn it into a race thing, I’m going to go ahead and say it: Survey a ton (pardon the pun) of “plus size” black girls and plus size white girls on their self image. I can almost guarantee that you’ll find a staggeringly higher level of admitted self loathing among the corpulent Caucasians – to the point of no self respect when their lover’s being a dick to them.


I’ve been around and met a bunch of different humans of different ethnicities, nationalities, backgrounds, upbringings, etc. and in that time, I’d have to say that more of the black women I’ve known didn’t let their weight, appearance, etc. have as much of an impact on how they let others treat them, as your average self proclaimed fat or ugly white chick who hates herself because of her poor self image. And when a person is a woman and she’s African American and she speaks her mind about not being a doormat, a brand new stereotype is born against them, dubbed: “Angry Black Woman”.

Any confident women I’ve known “work with what they’ve got”; they take care of appearance (whether it’s hair, nails, makeup, or wardrobe), hold their heads up high, and -above all – if their partner’s personality flaws and wrongdoings are “irreconcilable”, being stepped on would never be an option.


So what about the guy? It takes two to tango, right?


It’s pretty simple.

Any well adjusted, confident (but not cocky) grown-ass-man looking for a serious relationship, wants a like minded chick who is also confident (without being egotistical, either). They unite, and that’s what we call a “power couple”. On the flip side, you’ve got the “predators” and the “victims” – pricks and the chicks they pick deliberately with no self esteem. It’s intentional for three reasons: It’s easy to keep a girl like that under his thumb, manipulating her makes him feel powerful, and finally (as the girl above so eloquently put it), “It’s pu$$y you can keep” – regardless of his bad behavior.

Let me be clear, though.

It comes in all shapes, sizes, races, and covers both genders. That’s right. I’ve talked about men thus far, but let’s not forget that it swings both ways. Lez-be-honest: Women do it too – whether it’s in homo or heterosexual dynamics. So, that kind of predatory perspective is not exclusive to black guys, nor do black men comprise the majority of men who have this outlook, which is pretty well defined by some lyrics from one of my favorite bands: “I gotta thing for the women that don’t love themselves…

When a racial disparity enters into it, however, people are just more likely to spotlight it.

Don’t believe me? Glance over the same-race couples you know. How many fit girls do you see with obese guys, versus fat girls with fit men? Sure, a big part of it is just that all men like to have “sure ass” waiting for them at the end of the day; but it’s also apparent that there are a lot of deviant men who get turned on when there’s an inverse relationship between the numbers on our scales and our amount of aplomb.