Earlier today, Chris Brown was involved in an extended stand-off with the police. Brown was holed up in his California mansion as the authorities demanded entry. The mess (and just what chaos it was) started in the wee hours of the morning when a woman named Baylee Curran claimed that Brown had threatened her with a gun. Curran and some friends left the scene, leaving Brown alone together with his woes. Brown allegedly threw a bag containing weapons from the window.
Brown then did what he is doing best:
Sing and dance? Nope.
Behave just like a mature, tax paying adult? Nope.
This is Chris Breezy we’re referring to.
Brown took to social media and produced several videos. In one of them, he loudly declares “fuck the police” a la Straight Outta Compton. Another contains allusions to the Black Lives Matter movement. Hrs later, the standoff ended and Brown has become under investigation for assault.
And with this spectacle, ladies and gentlemen, let this function as the final nail on the designer coffin that's Chris Brown’s career. I might 't be a professional minister but I have seen both Sister Act movies so I’m confident I’m qualified to give this eulogy.
I didn’t know Chris Brown personally (thankfully) however i do remember his younger innocent days. I remember dancing along to his Double Mint Gum commercials. I recall Chris Brown and the lisp on Sesame Street spending time with Elmo.
But dark times were on the horizon for that light-skinned wonder. The night time that crashed a thousand blogs; the night time he abused Rihanna. I remember the following tantrums, him throwing a chair out of the window at the Hello America studio.
Who doesn’t recall the scuffle he and Drake had over Rihanna (who wasn’t even present and still had men fighting over her; she is truly an icon who must begin a workshop). Even today I’m still waiting for a Drizzy and Chris Brown collab on an new version of Brandy and Monica’s “The Boy is Mine”. I also remember his numerous flings.
*A moment of silence for Karreuche and her self-esteem*.
Perhaps the only real good thing in the future from Chris was among the cutest babies around the ‘gram, Royalty Brown.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dick pics, it’s time to put to rest the daddy of F*ckboys, the Dictator of Douchebaggery, the Archduke of Assholes: Christopher Maurice Brown. We hardly knew ye (not necessarily).
