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*I’mma keep it 100 – Lori Harvey was slowly evolving into an industry tramp, and her reputation needed a quick makeover.
I say “tramp” because, within a matter of about 18 months, she jumped from a nig*a who races formula 1 cars to Trey Songz, to Future, to Diddy, then to his son, a few other nig*as probably, and finally, she landed in Michael B. Jordan’s lap, and later into his wallet.
(I’m not saying she isn’t earning her own money. But let’s be real – a woman would much rather spend someone else’s money than her own. No cap).
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So here’s how I imagine the conversation with her publicist – and maybe even her father, Pappa Harvey – unfolded.
Lori: “Oh my God, all these rappers keep mentioning me in their songs, like I’m some tramp. I’ll never be the next Kylie Jenner if people only view me as Future’s old side piece. What should I do?”
Steve Harvey: “Welp [in his thick ass country accent], daughter, did you read my bestselling book?
Lori: “Umm … no. Does it come with cliff notes, or is there an audio version?”
Steve Harvey: “Aww shucks … you ain’t even read the damn book. Lemme tell ya how dis gon’ go … you know that boy who in all dem fightin’ movies?”
Lori: “Floyd Mayweather?”
Steve Harvey: “Girl naw! I’m talking bout the one who acted in that superhero movie. He died at the end. What’s his name? Michael or Marvin, or whatever. His last name is Jordan. It gotta “B” in it.”
Lori: “Yeah I’ve met him. Not really my type, but he was nice.”
Steve Harvey: “Well, tell yo little publicist to reach out to his people. Y’all start dating and that’ll take care of the perception that everyone has of you. If you date a “nice guy” people will assume you’re an honorable young woman – worthy of his attention. Plus he’s hot right now. You can use that to yo advantage. Elevate yo status. Ain’t yo daddy a genius?!”
Chances are this conversation never happened.
Or maybe it did.
Regardless, Lori Harvey’s intentions were never to be with Michael B. Jordan long-term.
She took advantage of an opportunity to rehabilitate her image by attaching herself to a clean-cut, internationally famed “nice guy.” She knew people would begin to view her differently – as a woman of class and virtue, not a dick hopper. And it worked!
Michael and Lori dated for roughly a year – not very long, but she plastered her social media accounts with images and footage of their interactions and adventures together.
It probably seemed like there was a genuine connection on the surface. But in reality, Lori revealed these images for attention and clout.
In order for the public to believe she was more than just an industry THOT, she had to present evidence of her whirlwind romance with her prince charming.
Very clever.
I’m sure Michael made his intentions clear from the start, letting her know about his desire to settle down, get married, have some babies. She went along with it, and probably intimated that she wanted the same, prompting Michael to do everything he could to win her over. It was GAME!
She relished the spotlight that being with Michael provided, and she cut deals to promote her skincare line and launch other personal projects along the way. She’s become a household name – more than Steve Harvey’s good-looking daughter, and Future’s concubine.
Lori is UP right now – way up. She plans to stay … UP. By herself. She doesn’t want to be anybody’s wife right now, and marriage inevitably breeds children, which she can’t afford to have if she plans to continue wearing skimpy dresses to fancy galas. Michael was a pawn in her diabolical scheme to clean up her image, promote her brand, and escape the shadow of her famous daddy.
And the sh*t worked.
Now Michael is clapping at basketball games like he’s Will Smith in the Pursuit of Happiness. The nig*a is clearly heartbroken, and worse, he’s become a statistic. He wanted her, but she never truly wanted him. It’s easy to see.
So, fellas, I want y’all to be on the lookout for these status-chasing trollops. Save your time and money for women who DESERVE it. Stop giving them EVERYTHING at the beginning. Make em work for it – show you that they’re in it for the RIGHT REASONS. F*ck chivalry and courtship. These hoes ain’t worth that.
Be smart. Otherwise, you’ll be sitting at a Warriors game like Michael, clapping and cheering to hide your pain … but yo ass won’t have courtside seats like him.
Think about it. Peace!
Southern California-based Cory A. Haywood, is a freelance writer and expert on Negro foolishness. Contact him via: [email protected] and/or visit his blog: www.enterthehat.com or send him a message on Twitter: @coryahaywood
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