Things T.I. Can Do With His Time That are More Productive Than Checking His Daughter’s Hymen
Hey, do you hate today enough yet?
Well, let me change that for you.
Good ol’ T.I. showed his ass to the world by admitting on a podcast (Ladies Like Us) that he goes with his daughter to the gynecologist every year, in order to ensure her hymen is intact. Yes, you read that correctly.
We have yearly trips to the gynecologist to check her hymen,” T.I. said. “Yes, I go with her.” He then mentioned that after her 16th birthday party, he “put a sticky note on the door: ‘Gyno. Tomorrow. 9:30.’”
Don’t worry, there’s more garbage to spew.
T.I. also noted that he was informed the hymen can be broken in ways other than through sexual penetration. “And so then they come and say, ‘Well, I just want you to know that there are other ways besides sex that the hymen can be broken like bike riding, athletics, horseback riding, and just other forms of athletic physical activity,’” he said. “So I say, ‘Look, Doc, she don’t ride no horses, she don’t ride no bike, she don’t play no sports. Just check the hymen, please, and give me back my results expeditiously.’”
Then he added, “I will say, as of her 18th birthday, her hymen is still intact.”
Look, this is, objectively, the f*cking worst, OK? I just can’t wrap my head around any of this, and it makes me want to rage and explode, because you know he’s not pulling that s*it on his sons. He is the father of a daughter, dammit, and somewhere, Meghan McCain started to craft her defense of this f*ckery because this is the timeline we’re living in.
We need to channel our anger into something more productive because being angry at all the bullshirt all the time is just exhausting, isn’t it? Much like when your puppy chews a hole in your sweater and is about to start in on the sock pile you keep in the corner of your bedroom to appease the monsters that live under your bed, you need to distract the offender instead of reprimanding him, in this case, to save your own mental energy. So, in the spirit of not rubbing T.I.’s nose in the carpet on the mess he made (which, btw, you’re not supposed to do anyway, for dogs at least) I’ve put together a list of more productive uses of T.I.’s time.
Pass Off “I Heard It Through the Grapevine” as a New Song
I hate myself for admitting this, but I kind of love “Blurred Lines.” It’s a terrible song, but also, very catchy. Which it should be, because it was a blatant rip off of Marvin Gaye’s “Got to Give It Up”. So much so that T.I. and his buddies had to cough up millions of dollars to Gaye’s estate for ripping it off.
Personally, I think T.I. needs to go for a two-fer and try it again because you never know if the first time you lose half your royalties is a fluke or not. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, Marvin Gaye’s family gets to install a heated pool in their vacation home, as the saying goes.
Reignite His Feud With Ludacris
You’ll recall that about 12 years ago, those two went at it, culminating in a fight between T.I. and Ludacris’ manager, Chaka Zulu. Why the hell would you ever pick a fight with a dude with that name is beyond me, but T.I. did, apparently punching Zulu in the face, and a fight ensued. (Reading between the lines, it seems like T.I. sucker-punched him, then the fight happened. Of course the man who goes to his daughter’s gyno appointments is also the type to sucker punch. Of course.)
That said, everyone needs to be kept on their toes a bit, and I feel like this is the feud no one is asking for, or needs, and thus, it is perfect.
Obviously, I will be team Ludacris, because again, SVU—and if we’re really lucky, this could be a ripped from the headline episode, which is mainly the reason I’m all for this.
Literally Almost Anything Else
T.I. could try to form his own Island of Dr. Moreau full of human/animal hybrids. He could form his own island where all you do is watch the Island of Dr. Moreau. He could do basically anything else with his time rather than worry about a made-up social construct of a woman’s virginity equating to her “purity” (which also, isn’t a thing, either) and it would be a better use of his, and anyone’s, time—and yes. I am taking into account those weirdos who respond to every Netflix Tweet with “Save the OA.”
Wait, strike that. Someone go make this fool read and then watch The Handmaid’s Tale and then write me a 5-page, 12-point font, 1-inch margin (come on, we all know that trick) essay about it, properly sourced, and Wiki doesn’t count. Maybe that will get it into his thick skull how horrifically wrong this whole situation is—and what a gross violation of his daughter’s privacy it is, including talking about it to the f*cking world. What a total and utter dumpster fire of person he is showing himself to be right now.
This has been your regular update from the trash-men-gonna-trash beat. Until next time!
Header Image Source: Getty