If you are from Chicago and you aren’t fascinated with R. Kelly, then you haven’t been listening to enough WGCI. Seriously. The man has allegedly been sleazing his way into the beds of young protegés and fans and even his agent’s teenage daughter since long before I was too old to be his jail bait, yet he is a cultural icon in Chicago of Michael Jordan status. I mean people LOOOOOOVE some R. Kelly. And, to be honest, so do I. The man is prolific. Every week he’s got a new remix on the radio, often better than the original. Kells has more metaphors for sex than a Catholic Priest, from candy bars to sex planets to car parts to fast food (lyrical highlights of his guest verse on Raheem DeVaughn’s “Lemme Serve You Up” include calling himself Chef Boy R Kells and proclaiming “Shawty if you’re thirsty I got some good, good lemonade”).
In honor of Mr. Robert Kelly’s impending court date, for which jurors are being selected today, let’s all take a moment to remember the first time we realized what a creep he was, when he secretly married then-15-year-old Aaliyah, (R.I.P.) and the beautiful music their union produced:
