Burnt Bacon: Lil’ Kim

What up everyone – JMAC back on the attack once again. Hope everyone had a solid week. Me? Well, I once again get stuck with the dishes today as it seems someone done went and burnt the shit out of all my good frying pans. I’m still trying to get the stank of Tara Reid out of here but it’s looking like no amount of Febreze will cover up that mess. Holy fuck.

Today on Burnt Bacon, we look at one Kimberly Denise Jones – better known as the rapper cum body-modification enthusiast, the one and only Queen Bee herself, Little Kim. Oops, “Lil’ Kim,” as we say in the hood. Because apparently, the tt’s don’t matter all that much in the hood, contrary to how many tt bars you’ve seen whilst driving through. And no one gave a fuck about the silent “e” in any event.

Kimberly Denise Jones?

Kimberly Denise Jones?

What color are my eyes?

What color are my eyes?

When one looks at Lil’ Kim today after the 90 or so plastic surgeries she’s had in her time, one probably says to oneself, “Self, would I hit that? Would I have EVER hit that?” The answer, if you’re any kind of perv-wad like us here at UBW, is yes.

Back in ’96, Lil’ Kim was making a name for herself as a member of the rap act Junior M.A.F.I.A. (no idea what the acronym stands for but then neither did the group members themselves, I would imagine) before kicking things into high gear with her own solo career.

See, what’d I tell ya? She is a nasty little sex kitten right there. What’s awesome is that her music completely reflected that imagery full fucking stop. Basically, she was like a female version of Too Short – a provocative sex maven boasting about her fictional exploits and prowess between the sheets, on the curb, in the backseat, at the club, bathroom stall, trash dumpster, high school chem lab, Home Depot backroom, garage sale, tea party, Cub Scout meeting, or wherever the deed could be done. In her songs, she would basically rip on weak-ass dudes who wanted a piece of the Queen B poontang pie but who couldn’t put out when it came to dropping some greenbacks. She expected to be treated like “Zsa Zsa Gabor, Demi Moore, Diana Ross and all them rich bitches.”

Hard Core? Are you sure?

In a move that garnered her more than a little controversy was that she bragged – on record – about doing the deed with one Notoriously B.I.G. fella.

"I said I had a crush on you, not--ah, fergit it..."

"I said I had a crush on you, not--ah, fergit it..."

I don’t know exactly know that I’d brag about something like that. I guess she just loved his fleshy waist.

Lyrics from “Big Momma Thing” include: “I used to be scared of the dick. Now I throw lips to the shit, handle it like a real bitch.”

"I'd like to fill her void...show her my French flipper trick."

"I'd like to fill her void...show her my French flipper trick."

You gotta love poetry like that. Especially when that stuff is so obviously 100% from the heart. Okay, maybe it comes from someplace slightly lower than the heart. So anyway, much like those noted trailblazers Too Short and 2 Live Crew, Kim’s style was what you could describe as “porno-rap” which had been conspicuously absent for much of the 90’s what with 2LC’s legal woes and Too Short seemingly “retired” from the business. Lil’ Kim was all too happy to fill that void.
Round about the year 2000, Kim put out another album that had a slightly different image and style than what we had been accustomed to, The Notorious K.I.M. Uh-oh. There’s that “changing image” red flag that always seems to creep up on the not-so-innocent and unsuspecting.
That Nose. Those lips. Yea . . .

That Nose. Those lips. Yea . . .

See, I was thinking that too – my guess is that Michael Jackson’s nose ATE Lil’ Kim’s nose.

The album did produce at least one hit song, “How Many Licks,” by which she was bound and determined to answer that question we had all been wondering since the ’70’s and that Wise Old Mr. Owl could not answer.

I’m not quite sure we ever really do find out how many licks it took. I’m not even sure it had much to do with getting to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Roll pop. It sounds to me like what she was really shooting for is finding out how many licks it takes till you get to the center of the “oh…OOOOHHH” whatever that’s supposed to mean.

So we get to a new decade, new look, new image, new persona, new facial features and Kim is striving to remain relevant in the burgeoning top-40 bling rap era. She hooks up with a few future Burnt Bacon candidates all for the charitable cause that is the Moulin Rouge movie soundtrack.

Burnt Bacon on parade.

Burnt Bacon on parade.

It was here that Lil’ Kim seemed to have found her niche as – what else? – an aspiring drag queen.

The struggle would continue on for the Queen Bee as she later became subject to legal troubles of her own stemming from a mental illness that funnyman Dave Chappelle termed as “when ‘keeping it real’ goes wrong.” Long story short, Kim was accused and later convicted of three counts of conspiracy and one count of perjury about a couple of associate’s involvement in a shooting outside of a radio station in Manhattan.

Basically, she tried to tell the court “nah, that whadn’t them” when there was video evidence that clearly showed all three at the scene of the crime. “It wasn’t me” may work in pop songs about infidelity but rarely if ever pans out in criminal cases. That shit doesn’t even work on Law & Order.

So she’s set to start her sentence, but before that can happen, IT’S REALITY SHOW CLIP TIME!!!

Quality entertainment for the young 'uns.

Quality entertainment for the young 'uns.

 

Yes, let’s extend our 15 minutes even further by documenting our lives for the BET-viewing public before beginning a prison sentence. I think it was at this point exactly when I had finally figured out that we have officially filmed all that reality has to offer. The surplus on filmable reality has now run dry and we have Lil’ Kim to thank for that. Thank you, Kim.

Insert your . . . own caption.

Insert your . . . own caption.

Kim eventually got out of serving a couple of months early due to good behavior which seems kind of odd given the charge. I’m not a lawyer, so whatever. I guess she learned her lesson and won’t ever lie again. She promises.

Lil’ Kim’s insatiable hunger for attention has recently sprung up again due to, of all things, a Twitter feud with one Nicki Minaj.

If you don’t know who Nicki Minaj is and you kinda sorta used to like Lil’ Kim before she got all weird, then all you need to know is Nicki is the heir apparent to the Queen Bee throne. Many in the music press are already touting Nicki as “the new Lil’ Kim,” which can’t really make you feel all gravy if you’re the current reigning Lil’ Kim.

I’m not sure who started what exactly, but Minaj tweeted something resembling “Lil’ Kim U next” before deleting it. So it would seem that Nicki Minaj values self-censoring a bit more than Lil’ Kim does but like in that Interpol song, “Hey who’s on trial?”

Kim’s succint response went something like this – let’s see if I can remember if off the top of my head:

What type of coward lame ass bitch tweets some shit and then deletes it. REAL bitches stand by what they say BOZO…You cheap stocking cap glued $10 bag hair wig wearing bitch. Get a lace front!!! FYI Indian hair don’t come in green BITCH…You free lunch eating bitch…WHAT!!! Bitch I see you crawling!!! I got my can of RAID. Come get it!!! #TwitterRoach !!!!

“TwitterRoach?” Um…kaaay. “Real bitches stand by what they say,” you say? How about if what they’re saying is “that shit wadn’t me, yo honor?” Do you even know how that sounds, Kim? Get a “lace front” – what is that even supposed to mean? A lace front on the $10 bag of hair wigs? Was Kim meant to BE the next front that Nicki Minaj was going to get, hence the tweet of “U Next?” What’s wrong with getting a leather front? That’d be nice. Do they even make those anymore?

Wait, Hair wigs cost TEN DOLLARS?! GOOD LAWD, THAT’S A LOTTA MONEY!

Kim, you were real, real cool back in the day. I thought you were a tasty little muffin that I would have given all my old school tapes to split in two and have with butter and jam. A dirty girl singing her dirty rhymes in a rap world overrun with bitches, blunts, and “5.0’s with switches” was a breath of fresh–well, actually the smell was closer to Thai food, but you get my point.

The obsession with oversized boobs, undersized proboscises, reality TV, little girly Twitter wars and a grip of unrequited thrusts for attention has a much different stench altogether. Maybe it’s that can of RAID you say you have for the TwitterRoaches. I just think someone left something on the stove for waaaaay too long.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, Nicki Minaj and I are gonna go see just how many licks it DOES take.

One...two...three...*crunch*...three.

One...two...three...*crunch*...three.



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