Let’s make it official: No rapper could balance pussy and poetry as skillful as Ghostface Killah. Ghostdini, his new release, is the proof. On “Stapleton Sex,” Ghostface takes hardcore pornographic rhymes to a new ground. He spits like a horny bastard on doses of viagra: “Yo my, face is wet, got hair on my tongue / Cause I’m a greedy nigga, absorb pussy juice like a sponge / Feel the pretty warm dick, rub it on your clit / Oh, right before I bust, I spray it on your tits.” Elsewhere, “Do Over” and “Baby” with Raheem DeVaughn on the hooks, Ghostface comes off raw yet strangely charming. Ghostdini is choked full of R&B guest spots, but they don’t get in his way.

In a recent interview, Pham Anh Khoa claims that Lam Sao Noi Het is his best album ever. Giving that he only released two CDs, what he really mean is that he can’t make any record louder and more obnoxious than this. On the title track, he can’t seem to say everything so he wails over the noisy rock guitar riffs. “Throw Away” would be a more suitable title for this album. Yes, please throw this shit away.

The rumors of Chinese people eating babies have been circulating on the web for a while, but I can’t bring myself to believe any of that deranged craps. The Soeul Times confirms with disturbing photos (click on the link at your own risk) that “A human baby is being made into soup for sexual power in China.” I still hope this isn’t real and people aren’t that sick for sex. I rather cut off my dick than doing such fuck-up shit for sex.

A man and a woman busted into a fight over a cup of coffee right in the nail salon. They argues back and forth. She pinned him to the wall and chased his ass around the place and no one got fired. Don’t ever fuck around with a nail chick. (via MsNguyen)

Hendrik Hertzberg:

[Obama] may have saved the world from a second Great Depression and all that, but the jobless rate keeps on climbing, the planet keeps on heating up, Guantánamo keeps on not getting closed, and roadside bombs keep on exploding. He’s had eight whole months, and he still hasn’t signed a comprehensive health-care bill. Given that his perceived political problem is exaggerated expectations, does he really need a Nobel Peace Prize before he has actually made any peace?

Watching Cu Dao sleeping last night made me think of my father and our relationship. Once in a while the little guy would open his eyes halfway, stare at me to make sure I was still there, crack a half smile and then close his eyes again. Just the joy of seeing that is indescribable. I thought to myself: there is nothing in this world that could keep me away from him. Then I thought of my father who was hardly around me when I was a kid.

There’s a saying that you give your children what you never had. If that’s the case, the first thing I will give Cu Dao is a fatherhood. Even when I lived in Viet Nam, I never felt what it was like having a father. He would go to work (mostly charity) for a few weeks or months and only stay home for a day or two.

When I left Viet Nam, our relationship was disconnected as well. Growing without a father was hard. I didn’t know who to turn to when I was bullied at school. No man around the house to teach me how to become a man. Mentally I was weak. I lacked the confidence in myself; therefore, I could never make a decision on my own. Sometimes I wish I could be strong like him. I wish I could do whatever I please and fuck everyone else. I envy him and despise him for that. He made his decision to go back to Viet Nam to live his life even though his wife and kid needed him here the most.

I am now walking in his shoes and I could never see myself doing the same thing that he did. I will be there for my son. I want him to have the confidence I never had. I want him to not only make his own decisions, but live and be responsible for them. I would like him to take risks and to follow his heart. I will be satisfied as a father if I could accomplish these goals.

This Colombian sex symbol sure knows how to work your hip as well as your hormone. Shakira’s new release, She Wolf, bounces from start to finish. While the groovy beats try to shake you, her words try to mind-sex you. On the catchy-ass Pharrell Williams-produced “Long Time,” she moans, “And when you think I can take no more / Just keep on going.” On the highly-addictive “Why Wait,” also produced by Pharrell Williams, she teases, “Why wait for later? / Hey don’t you want some action / I’m not a waiter / I like to make things happen.” Fuck yeah, let’s get it on.

Michael Bublé doesn’t need to rock. He just needs to swing. Unfortunately Bublé spends way too much time crooning soft-rock ballads on his new release Crazy Love. “Cry Me a River” starts off promising. The slick arrangement works wonders with his charming tenor. “All of Me” shows off Bublé’s swinging swag. But then the album begins to sink with “Georgia On My Mind.” He has to bring it if he goes against Ray Charles. From the title track to “Heartache Tonight,” Bublé tries to floss his way around the boring pop-rock numbers with not so much excitements.

This weekend we celebrated Dana’s parent’s 41st anniversary. My obvious question was how do they do it? My father-in-law gave us his one-word answer: patience. Unfortunately I am an impatience guy and our relationship isn’t so simple.

Patience is simply not enough. Trust plays an important role in our relationship. Everything is based on trust. From our fidelity to our finance, we stay true to one another. We don’t doubt each other’s faithfulness and we never question what each of us do with our money. We share the same account and we make all decisions together.

Although I don’t have forty years of experience to prove, I know what works based on previous relationships. Until now I had always put myself first and as a result, each one left me like the little rivers. The “I” now comes after the “we.” The “we” now comes even after the “Duke.” Everything we do; we do it for the Duke.

One time at a friend’s kid birthday party, the guys decided to sing some karaoke. One dude sang one of Dam Vinh Hung’s hits “Goc Pho Reu Xanh,” on top of his lung. I didn’t want to get up and walk out so I sat there being tortured. A little four-or-five-year-old girl walked by with her hands covering her ears made us all laugh even the singing dude, yet he still didn’t get the point.

I don’t sing in public because somehow my voice doesn’t sound the same through the microphone. Nowadays the only person I would sing to is Cu Dao. It’s my last trick, if everything else fail, to keep him from crying. I don’t pull it out too often because he seems to get bored with old tricks fast. As soon as I would begin to sing, he would start to smile. When I hit Bang Kieu’s girly register he would chuckle. I had to sung my heart out in order to capture those gorgeous smiling photos of his. I had to trench my soul during our road trips to prevent him from screaming.

Being with Cu Dao really sets me free. I can do any silly things I want to. He leaves all my worries behind and all my stress away. The time we spend together, the world is our. One day he will be too embarrass to introduce me to his girls and friends, but for now I am enjoying every second of it. Cu Dao rocks my world.