There's a hole in my heart that can only be filled by you.

It saddens me to share this post today, yet in the spirit of social responsibility and critical information dissemination, I need to soldier forth and address a serious matter. What started out as innocent jocularity has quickly turned into alarm. Let me start at the beginning. It's the second week of March, we have just totally dominated the threshold of time in order to preserve that honey, Daylight, and I am in the mood for a rumble. As such, I can think of no greater candidates for a hardcore monsta truck brawl than Chris Kelly and Chris Smith. In the event that you awakened this morning with a case of the forgetsies, that's Kris Kross to us mortals, of course.

So, my friends, in order for this battle of epic inverted apparel donning proportions to be completely legit, I undertook a little internet Inspector Gadgeting to compile the facts about our boys for a truly fair duel. I was going to give you, the reader, all of the goods. Perhaps I'd Venn Diagram Chris K.'s penchant for Descartes vs. Chris S.'s Nietzsche inclinations. Maybe through a carefully fashioned flowchart, I'd unravel C-Kel's mint chocolate chip soft spot. "Oh yeah?" Chrismith might interject. "Well, my butter pecan'll drop a cap on mint chocolate chip's ass like it's nobody's bizzio, cuz." I imagined earbiting; I dreamed of Don King miggida macking; I envisioned the ultimate Mac Daddy versus Daddy Mac dopeass throwdown.

"Well, why the hell aren't I reading about the CK1/Smitty Beatdown of '08 then?" you ask. Aaah, naive readers. I remember when I was just where you are, only forty or so short minutes ago. I have a lump in my throat just thinking about how I'm going to break this to you. But I guess I'll just go ahead and pay the piper quickly: they have vanished.

It's true. Gone since 1996 after they rounded out the trifecta dropping their classic third album o' killa beatz, Young, Rich, and Dangerous, on our auditory systems, the "twins who don't look like each other" have left our ears in a veritable wack rhymes ghost town ever since. Where have they gone? Who is responsible for keeping down our boys brave enough to laugh in the face of conventional sportswear etiquette?

I have a hunch. I'm dropping my hypothesis like it's hot (and I am ducking while I report this - not because that's an easy cheap short joke - but because I'm a little spooked by Miss Jackson - yes I'm nasty): it's puppetmaster Jermaine Dupri. Why didn't one of us notice the svengali-like deathgrip JD held over Chris squared? Why didn't one of us cry foul on the master manipulator? Well, it's too little, too late, now. What evidence do I have, you ask? P'shaw, readers. I don't need tangibles, per se, for I have feelings: feelings in my bosom that the Kelly/Smith union was slashed by a jealous hatemonger. As we know, some of us try to rhyme but we can't rhyme like Chris One and Chris Two, respectively . Some of us try to rhyme but we can't. Dupri: can you? And then there's this cryptic message posted by "J. Peter" (a cunning alias, indeed) at 8:10 am, Friday, November 2, 2007: "In a last interview (maybe 4 or 5 years ago) they said they were broke and JD got them hooked on weed. Nothing positive at all" and J. Peter's sentence, and thus his article, abruptly stops there. Dunh dunh dunh. Perhaps a certain five foot three and one half inch bossman intercepted this post and relocated J. Peter to a place where the sun no longer shines, too.

I don't have a myspace, ladies and gentleman. But, just because I don't have one, that doesn't mean that I can't spot a phony old jive turkey myspace like the one supposedly manned by one of our protagonists, Chris Kelly. I'll let you view the damning evidence.

Now, I don't know much about our boys, but I do know that Chris Kel would not, I repeat not, create a page entitled "Chris Kelly of Kris Kross 'Fan Page'." Why, he is not so ego-blitzed to do such an act. And that message our "accomplished" hero is supposedly sending: "Mackin Aint Dead...Y'all Just Scared!!" featuring no apostrophes and two, countem, two exclamation points!! Fool me once, Jermaine, shame on you. Fool me twice, my friend: shame on me! Maybe you digitally aged CK with your Ritchie Rich technoishthingers and added a believable yet not believable enough to fool me goatee o'sex. But, I see through your enviouspowerschemes.com, Jay Dee. Poor grammar is NOT one of this mc's downfalls. I don't know where you have hidden Chris "Mac Daddy" Kelly and Chris "Daddy Mac" Smith, Mr. Janet Jackson, but I do know this: I will not rest until our boys reemerge from the cave in which you are holding them. You cannot keep our boys down, for, in their own now-chilling, ominous words, "I learned to never miss my bus again." They will be back. Allow me, readers, if you will, the use of this forum for a little hopeful communication:

Dear Chrises,

If you can read this, just know that we are thinking about you. It hit me like a ton of bricks: you would never deprive the American public - no - the WORLD of your frolicking jams of rapture unless under some grounds of duress. We know that someone has intervened to dim that light that you shine on humanity. Well, Chrises, you are still here, in our hearts, warming it up, as we speak. We will find you. You will warm it up in person for us again. You are about to. For, Sweet Chrises, that's what you were born to do.

We will find you.

Warm Regards,

What's a Donzer and the this blog is eggsalady community

Thanks, readers. Hold strong. We will get our daddies o' the mack back again. I just know we will.