(start a rumor monday...)
tuesday edition (better late than never, right?)
janet jackson with boyfriend jermaine dupri (jd)
inside the velvet rope: the janet jackson interview
last week, fecundmellow was able to catch up with the mj's baby sis, janet. we asked her about love, breast implants, and her alleged daughter. though frank in our question asking, we cannot say she was candid and revealing in her answers. harold gibson, still unofficial, unpaid, allegedly sexually harrassed fecundmellow intern, transcribed the interview. because, you know, when he shows out, nala gets to use him as a chew toy. enjoy!
fecundmellow: before we officially begin, penny, i just wanna let you know that i wanted to be you when i was six. i played your record everyday. and, i damn near broke my leg and my spectacles trying to do that chair move from the pleasure principle video. like the mini-movie for "thriller," there should really be a warning before that joint plays: do not try this shit at home, and if you do, DO NOT, we repeat, DO NOT use a folding chair.
janet jackson: you know my first name ain't penny. it's janet. miss jackson if you're nasty.
fecundmellow: of course it is. can we begin by talking about your alleged daughter?
jj: let's wait awhile.
fecundmellow: ok. for real, damita jo. may i call you damita jo? seriously. jd? you can do better than that, homie.
jj: like a moth to a flame burned by the fire. my love is blind, can't you see my desire?
fecundmellow: no, not really.
jj: suffice it to say that that's the way love goes.
fecundmellow: c'mon janet. do you really love him?
jj: yes honey, i love him. he is fine. he does a lot of nice things for me.
fecundmellow: i know he used to do nice things for you, but what has he done for you late-ly?
*summer m. and janet break into choreographed dance.*
fecundmellow: how does it feel to play "auntie" to three white kids you know aren't your brother's?
jj: are you insinuating that prince michael i, prince michael ii, and paris aren't my brother michael's children?
fecundmellow: is that your original nose?
fecundmellow: while we're talking about your brothers, would you happen to know how much gel jermaine uses to get his ken doll-like hair?
jj: you know, this is my family you're talking about.
fecundmellow: you're right. my bad. don't take it personal. take the bitter with the sweet. easy come. easy go.
jj: you are a true jackson fan.
fecundmellow: let's talk about nipplegate. do you really think it's fair that your career plummeted because you showed half your rack? i mean, britney spears gets to run around having babies by a nigga calling himself k-fed or daddy instead. you show the world a lil chest action, and white people lost their shit. will a black woman ever be able to show a lil breast on tv?
jj: that was an accident.
fecundmellow: may i accidentally touch your chest?
*jd literally hops off his chair and tries to get in summer m.'s face, but he ain't tall enough*
fecundmellow: is your alleged daughter being raised by your older sister, rebbie?
jj: i will not discuss that matter.
fecundmellow: could you at least tell rebbie i think her tune "centipede" is one of the greatest, if not most underrated songs of the 80s?
jj: will do.
fecundmellow: why won't you talk about your alleged daughter?
jj: because this is a story about control. my control. control of what i say. control of what i do. and this time i'm gonna do it my way.
fecundmellow: will we ever get to see the chubby, dream street, charlene from different strokes janet again? i miss her much.
jj: will you please stop looking at my tits?
fecundmellow: yeah, sorry. it's just that they're so, um, buoyant. do they double as life jackets when you swim?
jj: *no response*
fecundmellow: but back to jd. do y'all have to request a booster seat when y'all eat at denny's?
jj: this interview is over. *gets up, waits for jd to jump off his chair, and leaves*
fecundmellow: now why you wanna go and do that love, huh?
if you didn't get some of the references, just ask nick. he don't need no (yeah, "don't need no") cliff's notes, homie. gosh nick, i heart you so much. i think of you often, but i digress...
language alone protects us from the scariness of things with no names. language alone is meditation. ~toni morrison