I never thought this day would come, but, yes, I curse you, Sir Mix-A-Lot! I curse you for your 1992 #1 Billboard hit “Baby Got Back” a.k.a. your impossible-to-resist musical homage to all the ladies with ample assets. I damn you to the depths of pop music hell with the likes of Right Said Fred and Kenny G.

Why am I taking such drastic steps, you ask? Because your ode to big butts may have destroyed a friendship. Let the severity of that sink in—destroyed a friendship.

The friend in question is was named “Cindy” (Note: her name has been changed to protect the innocent a.k.a. me from getting my ass kicked by “Cindy” for using her real name). We were hanging out—an otherwise pleasant afternoon. As we were about to go our separate ways, I realized I couldn’t find my phone and asked Cindy to call me so I could locate my aforementioned lost phone when it rang. So she did. And sure enough, my phone rang allowing me to properly locate it.

But here is where the problem arises: the ringtone was Sir Mix-A-Lot’s “Baby Got Back.”

“What’s that?” Cindy asks.

“Sir Mix-A-Lot,” I reply naively like an unaware deer caught in the headlights just moments from a violent automobile-related death.

“I know what it is. Is it your default ringtone?”

“No, it’s the ringtone I assigned to you.”

And as those words leave my mouth, it suddenly dawns on me. This feeling of dread. The recognition that those headlights racing toward me are no less than death’s unstoppable beacons of death.

“So you think I have a big ass?”

Uh-oh. Run out of the way before the car strikes you, you fool!

“No, of course not.”

“So you’re saying I have a stringy ass then?”

I have jumped out of the path of the speeding car…and apparently right into the arms of a hungry mountain lion waiting for me by the side of the road (just go with the fucking metaphor!). Damn, there is no escape. But I must try anyway.

“No, there’s nothing negative about your ass. Your ass is perfect. Let me put it this way…whatever you think is the worst type of ass a woman can have, you have the complete opposite of that.”

Don’t eat me, hungry mountain lion.

“Well, why are you using that song as my ringtone?”

“I don’t know. ‘Cause you sing that song at karaoke all the time.”

“I’ve never sang that at karaoke.”

Oh right, I’m thinking of someone else. I can feel the lion’s metaphoric fangs start to penetrate my completely innocent flesh. 

OK, time to use reason and logic to save me from this potentially deadly situation. “You should be honored that’s your ringtone,” I explain. “I mean have you listened—really listened—to the lyrics of that song? Sir Mix-A-Lot’s saying how awesome he thinks big butts are. He says his anaconda doesn’t want none unless you got buns, hun. He doesn’t say his anaconda doesn’t want none unless you don’t got buns. You see? He’s saying he likes them thick and juicy and if you can’t take Sir Mix-A-Lot’s word for that, then who’s more qualified? So in a sense, by using that song as your personal ringtone, it’s like I’m saying, yes, I agree with Sir Mix-A-Lot in thinking that you’re totally awesome.”

Note to Self: Reason and logic have no impact on a hungry, pissed-off mountain lion.

Additional note to self: Next time, come up with a better metaphor than the whole deer, mountain lion, headlights shit.

Another note to self: Select individual ringtones more carefully in the future.

Addendum note to self: Remember to change my ringtone for my fellow Offender Anderson from Hot Chocolate’s “You Sexy Thing” to something less likely to be misinterpreted.



  1. Simple solution. If she asks you if you think she has a big ass you say “yes, and it’s damn sexy”. Can’t get mad at that. You just called them sexy!

  2. Poor deer!

  3. but fonda ain’t got a motor at the back of her honda!

  4. LOL. Phil. That’s hilarious! Out of curiosity what is “Cindy’s” race? She clearly isn’t Black cause in our community your ringtone would be a compliment. Not that we like to be gawked at or objectified but our “ample assets,” as you put it, are generally something we are very proud of and we find that it is quite a desirable trait to men and desired trait for Black women who do not possess such assets. I think I would have laughed so hard when I heard that ringtone if I were Cindy. It’s nothing to be offended about. Though quite embarrassing for you, Phil.

  5. You just need the white version of that: