Born Again Hard
Category: MySpace

Jokes…

we had a million of them. I was the best.

However, I'm creative but not that creative. I had a "Jackie the Joke Man" write a few zingers for me, matter of fact, just about half of my act was JOKE MAN material. I was the fall guy when they hit nerves of those who needed reality checks in the worst way. You, you got to be Ed McMahon secretly chirping in Charo's ear about Johnny being an asshole. I let you be that without much resistance because I didn't mind it. What can these people possibly add to my life? What did they add to yours? They stole money from you, borrowed money and never returned it, fucked everyone in sight and blamed you for not getting in black's ass enough, brought friends along who disrespected and did drugs on your property without batting an eyelash.

Wow. That's some impressive shit. I can see why you love them all so much.

My social skills… they are horrible. Guilty as charged. I don't like being in a public setting, least of all sober. Can anyone blame me? You try tagging along with a man who shouts "FUCK THESE RACIST HO'S" in a room full of drunken rednecks and you tell me if you can relax and have a beer without having your head on a swivel. I didn't mind it for the most part, I thought it was funny in a surreal sorta way. I admire brutal honest people. I guess that's where we have a problem. I try not to talk in riddles. But I also know you can't have a rational conversation with irrational people. So why get into a war of words with idiots. I guess that's not me "man-ing up."

That type of boldness to shout fire in a threatre… that took balls, something I don't supposedly have. Sure, I get sucker punched for keeping a secret. But I'm weak when everyone else would have sang like a bird. Sure, nobody came to my defense when otherwise promised beforehand, but that's me being a pussy right? I'm an asshole for thinking that was a little fucked up.

50 bucks in my pocket, 25 was yours. No questions asked. You needed something, not a problem. I knew the reverse applied and respected that fully.

But I get clowned for it. Been called "cheap" by folks who still haven't paid you  rent money from the 90's.

I get belittled and downed while a man who let you and yours starve while in Vegas - with plenty of coin in his pocket – let's not forget - gets his ass kissed up and down. A man, by the way, who nuptial'ed a French Bull Dog in order to own his own personalized doggie dish and bragged about it all the while. Quite an admirable trait, I can see why you'd be up his ass.

I don't play games with crazy people. Never have, never will. For months I had been getting the weirdest messages from some really weird folks. Most of whom wanted to write their own blogs and when I didn't help them out the way they felt they were owed, they turned on me and all of sudden I'm a woman-hating pig. I know what that is… I'm not blind.

So I get these messages from a "fan" that seemed a little unusual but nice at first. I played along to, yes, sell some product, but also to not be a dick when being a dick was the easy way out. When things got a little out of hand, I bolted. So what? I didn't invite her to my stead or a meeting point to exchange gifts. I knew better. She wasn't there for me, she was there for all of you. Perhaps she first met the crew through my page, but give me a break.

YOUR GIRL MICHELLE HAS BEEN SENDING ME MESSAGES. SHE LIVES IN OHIO AND I AM THINKING MAYBE WE CAN SEE HER WHILE I AM DOWN THERE. ARE YOU INTERESTED IN TAKING A ROAD TRIP. HAVE RESERVED HOTEL ROOMS FOR TWO WEEKS CATHERINE KAREEM AND ANGEL ONLY STAYING FOR TWO DAYS!! MARY INN SUITE BY HERSELF AFTER THAT.

"JUST THOUGHT THAT YOU MIGHT WANTA GET SOME FREE PUSSY!"

How's that my problem?

She mentions my then-girlfriend's name in an email and that set me off. Nobody ever told her what that was, although now I can't be too sure of that. Those last few emails had a tone of anger in them, hints of a huge potential problem that I'm not dealing with. They didn't make any sense so I nixed the dilemma, my style. Not man enough? Fuck you. It's my life. I'm not a drama queen and this B.S. doesn't appeal to me whatsoever. I was trying to save a relationship that was slowly dying and didn't need the added flavor. I failed. Shit happens. Life goes on.

Why was the blogs private? I was attempting to prevent someone from seeing it, this is accurate. You got that right. Crazylady? Are you joking? Half her friend's list were people she met through my page. How about that big-breasted woman in Indiana, or some bitch who lives in Maryland who looks like Bee Gee's leftovers, or some asshole from South Jersey? They all were contributors on her sorry excuse for a blog. You don't think I knew they'd relay the message? Especially since she was going to go nuts wanting to see what LONGWOOD wrote? Get real.  

My parents are readers of mine but not members of any social networks since they're old school. They don't need to be to read blogs, unless they are tagged "FRIENDS ONLY." Got it? You think I wanna hear my mother bitch at me for unleashing a psychopath? They know now, I told them on my terms without creating a shitstorm.

I'm pretty sick and tired of hearing about my story being someone else's life. I was there. I lived it. Did I fuck a whole bunch of skanks, demand their paychecks or climb mountains, no, I never claimed otherwise. But that is how I spent my twenties. Also with Crowley, Yuhas, ex-girlfriend, my countless employment fiascos and those two assholes from Jackson.

So now what? You want an apology? Does crazylady want one? Sure. I'll be a gentleman. Crazylady, I'm sorry for being an asshsole when all you were trying to do was be kind to me. Perhaps I overreacted and I feel real bad about that. But keep leaving me alone. That shows you care!

You? Abso-fucking-loutly-not. Now that I know what you really thought all this time. That's the last thing I'll do. My contract will not be renewed, huh…  Didn't ask for an extension. I'm retired. I'm 32, those days are over.

I do wish the best for you and yours. I have no ill will towards anyone from the old school. Hope everything works out and you keep getting stronger and stronger. I don't regret the past decade plus, but chapter over and done with- need new one to be written and working on that as we sit. I've had to deal with a lot of folks who are unappreciative of what I've given them in the past few months... and then have it all be blamed on me. You got me… it's my fault. I'm a bad judge of character. Need to work on that!

No further contact will either be initiated or responded back to. This is the end.

11:46 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos

One Of My Favorites... Weed Is For Losers.

One of my favorite blogs that I wrote.

New Math: 420 at age 30 = Loser (from May 2007)

Friday the news came out that former NFL player Ricky Williams, 30, failed another drug test. He tested positive for marijuana – which essentially will end his NFL career

This isn't the first time at the rodeo for Mr. Williams - far from it, as a matter of fact. In the last four years he's failed five drug tests and all but one were from his love of the hippy lettuce. Back in 2002 the man was a multi-millionaire at the top of his profession, yet he gave it all away because he couldn't put down the reefer.

Ricky Williams is a fucking loser.

I have nothing against people smoking marijuana. I personally think it should be legalized, to a certain extent, anyway. With that said, I believe that if you're over 28 years old, and you still smoke weed on a consistent basis, you are a loser yourself, just like Ricky Williams.

Look, we all experiment when we're younger. Smoking weed is like having lesbian sex when you're in college. It's part of growing up for some people, on you're parents dime. But most people do, and should, grow out of that stuff when they hit their late 20's – early 30's at the latest. By that age, most folks have careers, families... real adult responsibilities! If you're still buying a dime bag a week like you were when you were 22, then you're going to be smoking forever. Who thinks being a 55 year old man still smoking weed is cool? Those are people you usually find in peepshow booths in Atlantic City and playing 10 dollars for a toothless dicksuck underneath the boardwalk behind the Trump Marina. Think about it... If you were ever going to stop smoking weed, you would have by age 28, wouldn't you?

Who has a job at 30, assuming it isn't a shitty one, where they don't drug test you? Who has the disposable income when you're paying rent, car payments, a mortgage, diapers, whatever to throw away on a drug that makes you lazy and unmotivated?

It's part of growing up. Yeah, when I was 13, I played with GI Joe figures. I don't at age 30. Yeah, when I was 15, I masturbated more times per day than an African chimp, but I don't anymore. And yeah, when I was 22, I used to smoke weed and snort cocaine for fun, but I don't anymore and haven't for a few years now. I grew up, and you should too!

Drugs are for young people, not mommy's and daddy's.

8:52 PM - 151 Comments - 133 Kudos - Add Comment

Beating A Bitch. Women and Dogs.
Category: Parties and Nightlife

5:04 PM - 50 Comments - 46 Kudos - Add Comment

The Last One In The World

Last One In The World

Back in early November of 2001 I took a job inside a supermarket called "Stop N' Shop." I was six month's removed from my last gig inside a supermarket, the A & P, which coincided with me graduating college. I quit the A & P the day after I got my degree since one of the reasons why I went back to school in the first place was to never do retail again. Kinda a stupid move on my part because as it turned out, I wasn't able to find a "real job" during the summer and early fall of 2001 and funds were running out quickly. I needed to get a few easy paychecks during the holiday season so I swallowed my pride and accepted the first offer that came my way.

Stop N' Shop was the winner.

I was brought aboard to work in the seafood department even though I had more experience in deli. I guess they had a hole in seafood, meaning I filled the bill. My first week there I was trained by some man in his late twenties named "Mark." Mark was a nice guy – easy going - very likeable. He was around my height (6'0 tall), blonde hair, goatee beard - I got the impression that Mark was a musician of some sort from his look and from his overall attitude.

Anyway, one Friday night just before Thanksgiving the two of us were standing online at the registers because we had both gotten paid, and wanted to cash our checks, which the store allowed us to do. Mark was about to get off duty and wasn't expected in till that Sunday. Meanwhile, I still had to close that night and had to work the following afternoon.

I remember chitchatting with him awhile as we stood online about the upcoming Jets/ Patriots football game. He was a Pats fan and I was a Jets fan so…it was a topic of interest. He also then volunteered that he couldn't wait to get this money of his so he could have a good time on his day off.

"I'm going to party my ass off tonight," were his exact words if memory serves.

A few moments later, he cashed his check, left the store, and then it was my turn to get my dough.

The next day I came into work around noon and about fifteen minutes into my shift somebody working in the deli came over to me and informed me that Mark had died the night before. Apparently, his mother called the store minutes earlier to let them know that her son wouldn't be coming into work ever again because his life was over.

 At first, I didn't believe it. How could I? I had just seen the fucker sixteen hours earlier and he looked as healthy as a horse. But later on that day other people in the store confirmed his death to me and added that the cause was a heroin overdose. I don't remember how those people knew the cause of death, but days later it was in the papers.

I'll always remember my co-workers reaction to Mark's death; they barely gave a shit. I wasn't sure how long he had been employed at Stop N' Shop himself, but it was longer than I was there and I was shaken by it. I mean, within a week, after his obit and the news story accompanying it got passed around the store, nobody mentioned his name again and it was as though he had just quit instead of perishing.

I often think about that Mark guy. I only knew him a week but it's not everyday you're with somebody on the last day of their life. I assume that he wasn't new to the heroin game just from what I inferred from his personality - but let's say for argument sake it had been the first time he ever used the drug. One mistake and it was all over. Doesn't seem fair, does it?

I do hear stories like that often though… people using a drug for the first time and having a bad reaction to it and then dying. There was a basketball player back in the late 80's, who, on the night he got drafted by the Boston Celtics, snorted cocaine for the first time inside his dorm room. Within minutes he was dead. He had a bad reaction to the substance and nothing in the world was going to save him. Len Bias was only 22 and days away from becoming a multi-millionaire.

I also knew a girl who took ecstasy for the first time and collapsed almost immediately after digesting the pill. She died on the way to the hospital. I didn't know her well, but knew her well enough to be saddened by the news. The point of all this, is… you never know what can happen to you when you do drugs. Forgetting about someday getting addicted to a narcotic, some people's bodies just can't handle that shit. Remember, you're putting a chemical inside your body that you have no clue where it came from or how you'll react to it. I used to do drugs a few years ago and never knew what I was really doing to myself. All I knew was that I bought some cocaine - yet had no inkling whether or not it was laced with something or "not laced enough" with something. People forget that if you snort too much pure cocaine, its dirt nap time. Cocaine needs to be mixed with baking soda, baby laxative, aspirin, or whatever. I was rolling the dice each and every time out and got lucky. Just like the first time I tried it. I got lucky that I wasn't allergic to it.

A shame some of my good luck couldn't rub off on Mark or that girl I once knew.

8:26 PM - 58 Comments - 94 Kudos - Add Comment

Poverty Pimps And Southern Ladies

In case you haven't heard, poverty pimp Jesse Jackson was in the news this week caught mumbling that he wanted to" cut Barack Obama's nuts off."

Aren't they on the same side??

 Apparently, Jackson took offense to Obama's message on this past Father's Day about black men in America actually being, well, fathers. Jackson, who's no stranger to seeding women who aren't Mrs. Jackson and then paying them no mind afterwards believes Barack's "tough love" sentiments are degrading to the African American community.

Jesse Jackson supported Hillary Clinton in the primaries and isn't a big fan of Obama's despite what most people previous thought. You see, now that Obama is accentually the head of the Democratic Party, Jackson isn't the HBMIC (Head Black Man In Charge) anymore. Also, Jackson doesn't like it when his race is forced to be asked to look in the mirror because people who do look in the mirror can't play the victim role.

And that people is what Jesse Jackson is all about. Convincing folks they are victims and helping them "fight back" against the man who's keeping them down. It gives Jackson power, which is what he's all about. He doesn't give a shit about the black community; he gives a shit about his purse and his stature. If he really did cared about his fellow black men he wouldn't constantly suggest to them to have their hands out and hope the government can fix all their problems. If you keep thinking that you've been wronged in life and you're owed something, then how are you ever going to work for anything and lift yourself up? If you are given breaks because you were "oppressed" doesn't that give the oppressor who takes pity on you more power because you are now dependent on them?

I'm not saying the country since its existence has been fair to minorities, lord knows it hasn't. So fucking what? Shit happens. We stole this country from the Indians and basically wiped them out off the face of the earth and strong-armed Mexico into giving us most of the present day southwest. You can either cry for pity and think the world owes you something or you can TAKE what you feel is yours by playing the game and actually educating yourself and getting a good job on your own and building your own businesses.

Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton don't think of things that way. They want to remain in power and have shit to complain about so they can get on TV everytime some idiot hasbeen actor drops the n-word in the public forum. Obama didn't pander to those assholes during the primary season and thus instead of backing a black man like you thought they would have, they both, Jackson and Sharpton, backed Hillary Clinton.

A white lady.

The truth is, Hillary would have kept them in power and continued to make their constituents victims and patronizing them with sermons and fatter welfare checks. Obama want folks to get off their asses and open a text book.  

Shame Barack is a secret operative sent by Allah to kill America.

Just kidding! lol

Just a quick observation about MYSPACE…

I get a lot of friend requests from ladies throughout the country. And I thank you all! But why does it seem like the ladies in the south who friend request me all have multiple children by the time they're 25??? I swear, I've seen tons and tons of chicks in Georgia or North Carolina or South Carolina who are like 23 and are on their 3^rd baby. Chicks around here don't get down like that. Sure, there are exceptions, but most girls here wait until their mid-twenties before they birth kids. Matter of fact, it isn't uncommon to see 30 year old single ladies with no kids and their pipes are working fine. Is it the sperm down in the south? Is it stronger than it is up north? Do they sell something in the Pigglie Wigglies down in Dixie land that triple your sperm count? Do the men down there just not pull out?? Are women in the northeast just less fertile? Are condoms used in the south made in China?

Here's my theory…

I'm unsure of the child support laws in every state, but here in New Jersey they are ballcrushing. If you're a man up here and have a kid by a smart yet lazy woman, you're paying dearly for as much as 22 years. In some southern states, Louisiana for example, they don't give a shit about deadbeat dads. I don't even think they ever heard of the term "Back Child Support." Here in Jerseyland, if you're one day late on a Child support payment, you're looking at being behind bars. That alone may make some dudes around here wear a condom before fucking someone they know they probably shouldn't be fucking. Down south, I guess it's worth the risk of going rawdog.

Look, I'm not trying to talk shit or be an asshole, I like kids and I like women who have them. Plus, southern women are hotter than northeastern girls. They just are. I'm just pointing out that maybe if child support laws were stricter in Georgia and the Carolinas, men might think twice about busting a foul nut.

Of course, I could be wrong about my theory. Jersey has a lot of Godless heathens who would get abortions in a finger snap while I would imagine holyrollers in the south would think otherwise. That could be it too.

7:51 PM - 113 Comments - 103 Kudos - Add Comment

Whore From The Door And Born Again Virgins

I get this question asked of me all the time...

Why is it okay for a guy to sleep with a shitload of women, but when a woman has sex with large number of men, it makes them a whore?

Well, I'm not really sure what the answer to that is, but I can venture a guess and give a few reasons to back it up. To be honest, when I hear that a guy has fucked a large number of women the word "MAN WHORE" doesn't really pop into my head. What does, sad to say, is "PLAYER" or "PIMP."

Now, that doesn't mean that I would sleep with the last girl they've slept with! Not without wearing at least 4 rubbers at the same time. It just means that I have to tip my hat for an accomplishment that is, at least somewhat, impressive.

Conversely, when I hear that a woman has fornicated with say…a 100 different men, I get turned off instantly. I guess the word "Whore" would apply at that point. I understand that most women aren't virgins, but that's a large number and I don't think I'm being too conservative in saying that. The thing is, you don't want to catch an STD and the odds of a person having one are higher when they've had more dicks in them than at a Johnson family reunion barbecue. But that's not the only reason why a girl who has been around the block many, many, many, many times turns off most men. Another is a fear that they will be eventually cheated on.

Men are insecure, probably much more so than women are. Sexually satisfying a female is part of what makes us feel good about ourselves. So when you deal with a woman of massive experience, the odds that you've been the best at making her "bark at the moon" are pretty low. That's just a statistical fact. And the worst feeling for a guy to have, from what I've been told, anyway, is that someone else from their lover's past has been better at making whoopee than they are. So logic just dictates that when you deal with a gal of very little sexual experience, she doesn't have a laundry list of other cocks to compare your short little dick with.

Does that make any sense?

But how much is too much? What is the magic number that as a man, or woman, you would get turned off? I used to think that any girl who slept with more than 15 partners was not the woman for me. But think about it for a second. If you're a 32-year-old woman, and you've been sexually active since the age of 16, your numbers are going to be up. Let's say that on average you've slept with 2 different men per year. Well, in 16 years of fucking, that's 32 dudes. More than double my "15 different dicks and over" rule I've lived by for over a decade now.

Then again, to play devil's advocate for a second, I do see where a man would not want to date a woman of high gratification numbers. It's like trying on a pair of sneakers at a mall. You do realize that you aren't the first foot to be trying on the sneaker, but you'd be kinda mortified if you were the 90^th. You could get a foot fungus or something and isn't it just better to buy a pair of Nike's that less fuckers have tried on?

That's why men love virgins so much. They wanna be the one to break the pussy in and have it set just right. Sure, she might not know what she's doing, but she at least didn't pick up bad habits.

You can't teach an old dog new tricks and that's why men like virginal girls. Virgins are a clean slate you can work with and if you're good at teaching you should be fine. I knew a girl that gave oral sex the wrong way and no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't get her to stop twisting my peter. Turns out her ex-boyfriend was sort of a closet queen and like having his dickhead twisted like a beer cap and that's how this girl thought men liked getting oral.

See what I mean?

 And no, I don't belive in born-again virgins. You may have gone a few years without fucking, but if your pussy has been stretched like a Stretch Armstrong action figure for over a decade, it isn't going to go back to normal. You can't undue what you've already done, so why go back now?? Like someone just recently said, once a cheater always a cheat. Well, once a whore, always a whore. So if you are one, no big deal. Just keep fucking. But don't think you're fooling anyone with a born-again virgin act. Most dudes with half a brain know when someone's playing the role or not.

Shit, I can smell a born-again virgin a mile a way.

So ladies, keep your numbers relatively low and don't pick up bad sexual habits. Take it from me; it'll help you in the long run.

6:51 PM - 256 Comments - 158 Kudos - Add Comment

Here's Wishing For A Brangelina Tragedy

I'll always remember something Fredrick Douglass once said about his lot in life. He once quipped that part of him felt regretful that he was an educated slaved and often envied the ignorant field-hand because they didn't know any better. Douglass was well schooled, and knew how horrible his life was that other humans considered him property. You see, an illiterate field slave had no clue just how fucked up his life was. As far as he was concerned, he was born 3/5^th's a man, and he'll die 3/5^th's a man.

Sometimes being too smart is a curse. I feel Douglass's pain. I know how terrible life is and how vile my fellow humans are. I know that most of what I was told as a kid was a lie and nothing is as it seems. I wish I were the dumb, greasy mechanic who didn't graduated high school and who goes to church every Sunday with his cheating wife and obnoxious kids. Things would be so much better. The less you know about hardcore shit, the less you feel responsible for the state of mankind.

Life for 99 percent of us is meaningless. That's the cold-hard truth. Most of us have no real purpose here on earth other than to pass the torch to the next generation of reality show junkies and McDonald's guzzlers. People spend their whole lives watching a box and worrying about what some other asshole is doing in a fake place called "Hollywood." An asshole, by the way, who isn't real. Everything about him is a farce created by publicists and airbrushes to make you feel inferior.

I've been caught in that trap also. Guilty as motherfucking charged. I follow sports and can't figure out why anymore. All the players on my favorite teams are probably jerk-offs in real life that I would probably despise, yet I feel so bad when they strike out or drop a pass. And who cares if they win, what am I getting out of it? I don't gamble on sports anymore, so if the Devils win a hockey game, what's my payoff? Bragging rights? Only blowhards with low-self esteem care about such nonesense. Bragging about what someone else did as if it were your accomplishment is pretty pathetic.

Yet I still watch and still cheer. I'm a whore and I'm faithful to my pimp.

This whole GOD vs.GOD is imaginary argument is also pretty meaningless. If there is a GOD, what makes you think he gives a rat's ass about you? Because you read it in a "holy" book somewhere? A book written by another human a few thousand years ago, by the way. I personally have no idea if GOD exists or in what form. I do know that I'll never know and if I did one day find out it would be so complicated it would be beyond my comprehension. Our version of GOD, the human beings' version, is totally fabel.

But I do understand the need for the myth's existence. Man is inherently evil and must be coerced into doing good otherwise he will rape and kill at a whim. If believing in some old bullshit keeps you other assholes I live around in line, who am I  to complain?

I know I'm screwed up. I cheer when natural disasters happen. I hope as many fuckers get broken-off as possible. I know George Carlin said it first but I so agree. If I see a hurricane on tv, I hope it's a category 5. As long as it's not near me.

Man-made tragedies like 9/11 or Oklahoma City I don't get a kick out of it. Actually, they make me quite angry. Other humans playing "GOD" and anointing themselves judge and jury. I know someday my life will come to an end because of someone else's greed or incompetence. Some douchebag insurance agent will deny me a surgery I need so he can get his quarterly bonus, or some cunt driving an SUV will plow into me because she was too distracted fucking around with her 50 cent CD's to see me pulling out onto the road.

But hey, I guess life isn't all bad. Angelina and Brad just had 2 more kids that'll have more in their first five months than I've ever had in my 32 years on earth. Great. Can't wait to see the baby pictures in OK magazine. Maybe if the kids look more like Brad than my life will have some deeper meaning to it.

Fuck Brad Pitt, and Fuck that Skank Angelina Jolie. I'm so hoping for a major earthquake in whatever 3^rd world country they're in trying to "feed the needy."

1:51 PM - 71 Comments - 84 Kudos - Add Comment

Girls And Herpes
Category: Food and Restaurants

A Herpes Story (from Nov. of 2007)

I knew a guy named "Ricky," who, at times in his life, ran afoul of the law. Years ago he got snagged for breaking into people's house's and had to spend a little time in the "can" as a result.

For three years, I didn't see Ricky for obvious reasons, but one night back about four years ago there he was, at a local bar, alone, and looking quite happy to see me.

"Dan," he yells out for all to hear. "What's up, man? Where's the rest of your crew?"

"Right behind me," was my answer.

My other friends, who all pretty much knew Ricky as well, quickly rushed over to say their "hellos" to this man. They had no clue he was out of the joint either.

There was a girl we had brought along with us to this bar that Ricky never saw before and vise versa. Her name was "Heather," a short, dumpy, Italian brunette whom I'd known since the mid 90's. She was a once a fuck buddy of a friend of mine, and started hanging around the crew from thereafter. I wouldn't say Heather was ugly, but I wouldn't call her pretty either. She was average - a tad on the chubby side. Perhaps you can say she looked like actress "Liv Tyler." That is, if Liv spent about a month at Three Mile Island with all the cheeseburgers she could eat!

Anyway, Ricky and Heather hit it off pretty well almost from the get-go that night, as he began buying her drinks and she in turn laughed at his prison humor. Knowing the two of them, I figured it was only a matter of time before they fucked, which for Ricky's sake, wasn't a good idea.

Heather had Herpes.

How did I know this? Actually, the whole crew knew. A year or so prior Heather was dating this teenage dork who hadn't had any pussy since pussy had him. He was a virgin, and feel in love with Heather, for reasons unknown. Heather loved the attention this kid paid to her, but little else about him. She took every opportunity in the world to cheat on my man – usually with the scum of the Earth. Seriously, if you added up all the accumulated prison time all the guys she fooled around with behind her boyfriend's back had, it would've added up to a thousand years!

The boyfriend was in the dark about Heather's "hobbies" until one day he found something on his penis that he didn't think belonged there. He soon after went to go see a doctor and that's when they told him what's what. Since the only snatch he ever had was from Heather's scandalous punany, he logically deducted she had given it to him. She denied everything initially, but eventually, she had to go get tested herself and came up smoking aces.  

As tragic of a story is that is to hear, what's even sadder is that the boyfriend never dumped Heather. Since he had that shit, and didn't want to spread it to others, he figured the only person he could really have sex with was Heather. In turn, she would continue to fuck anyone she could get her legs aroun and never mentioned a word to her newer lovers about her "sitch-a-ation" for fear of… well… not getting any penitentiary cock.

Needless to say, Heather had no qualms about fucking my friend Ricky and cheating on her boyfriend who didn't happen to be at this bar, especially when Ricky told her where he'd had been for the past several years. I'm sure she wasn't going to mention her Herpes to the man, so my friends and I came up with a plan to let him know about it. That plan involved me having to tell him face-to-face.

Once I saw a break in the action between Ricky and Heather, while we were all still at the bar, I grabbed ahold of my buddy and went outside with him.

"I'd leave that girl alone if I were you," were the first words out of my mouth.

"Why? Is she with you?" Ricky retorted back.

"Absa-fucking-loutly-not, No. I'm trying to tell you… that girl's got Herpes."

"Really?"

"Yeah!"

"How do you know she has it?"

"Dude, trust me. All of us know. It's not a very well kept secret."

"Bitch didn't say anything to me about it!"

"You only met her an hour ago."

"Still… we were talking about going to fuck in her car later on."

"Well, I wouldn't do it if I were you!"

"Man, fuck that. I already have that shit!"

"What?"

"I've had that shit for years, plus some other shit I bet she aint got!"

Turns out, Ricky would tell me he had something that he was only a "carrier" of. I forget the name of it as I write this. I found out later on that what he had was some infection that women usually get when they get anally fucked and then the guy goes back to vaginal intercourse without washing the doodie off his pecker first.

I swear, I'm not making this up.

So I have another dilemma on my hands now. Do I tell Heather about Ricky's "problem?" I figured it was only fair since I was willing to dime her out, I should return the favor. So a half hour later, I cornered Heather.

"I have to tell you something," was how I opened this conversation.

"What?"

"Ricky's got some STD. It's called ------(I can't remember the name).

"What is that?"

"I have no idea. But he claims he's a carrier of it."

"And he told you all this?"

"Not really. I just overheard him on his cellphone talking to somebody about it."

"Oh. Okay. Thanks for the info, Dan."

Two hours later, Right when the bar was about to close down for the night, Ricky and Heather were in her car fucking.

That's how people are really living!

1:51 PM - 93 Comments - 102 Kudos - Add Comment

Treat Me Like A Fool
Category: Art and Photography

Our education system blows. Who could possibly argue with that statement? The sad truth is that for many areas in America, our education systems is supposed to blow. Inner cities… c'mon, do you think the powers-that-be want these folks educated? They want them educated enough to not shoot and rape whitey or whitey's wife, and also to work a grill at Burger King. Not to manage a bank or some real shit.

Even the leaders of the black or Hispanic communities want their minions ignorant. If they were well learned people they wouldn't have a need for poverty pimps and exploitive jack-asses like Al Shaprton.

But in other areas where the man would like us to be better educated, we're falling behind. Why? Look at our culture for one thing. Ask a ten year old what he or she wants to be when he or she grows up and you'll get stuff like, "An Actress," "A Model," "A Football Player," "A Singer," nobody ever says, "AN I.T. GUY," or "a BIOCHEMIST."

We're so fixated on celebrity that we all want to become them. An Actress, fuck that. There's very little talent in acting, I'm sorry, there just isn't. You mean to tell me Lindsay Lohan has real talent other than her tits? She's famous for her looks and pedophiles across American wanted to fuck her when she was doing teen movies. Most young chicks want to become her because they want the fame and attention and the money and not really have to work for it.

Go to Los Angeles, California. Everyone there is an actor or actress. The dude who's serving you tea at a café, he's an actor. The skank who's ringing up your groceries, she's got an audition at noon. You think they have that going on in Bombay, India? Hell no. Everyone there wants to be an I.T. guru. Waiters and waitresses in India are all aspiring computer geniuses because they want a real, steady career with lots of earning potential. They don't give a shit about walking a red carpet or sucking Colin Farrell's disease filled cock.

They want to fix his computer.

They want to own big houses where there seven kids can live comfortably.

But it isn't just our culture that's the problem. Our teachers are igornant and it's the blind teaching the blind. When I was in school, this is what used to always piss me off. In English class, we'd read a story as a group and the dumb-ass teacher would make everyone read three paragraphs each. Some kid would start off the story and when his 3 paragraphs were finished, the douchebag sitting to his left would go.

All this did was make me count the paragraphs to see where I would have to start reading outloud. I'd not pay attention to the rest of the story and just read what I had to read over and over again in my head. I wanted to make sure I didn't fuck up and have my fellow classmates clown me – especially the good-looking whores.

Okay, so yeah, when my turn was over I could finally relax and start paying attention to the story so I could get a good grade. Just when that happens, here goes the kid in class would stutters like a motherfucker and butchers his entire three paragraphs.

I stop paying attention and just gazing at some titties.

All this could have been avoided if the teacher just read the entire thing outloud and trusted her students would pay attention.

5:03 AM - 70 Comments - 75 Kudos - Add Comment

My Dark Night
Category: Romance and Relationships

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My Dark Night

Curiosity and boredom got the best of me last night as I did something I had not done in almost two full years. I went and saw a movie in an actual theater. The last film I sat through in public was "WALK THE LINE," one of the most tedious pieces of trash these two eyes had ever gazed upon. I don't like being out in public period, much less spending big coin on a ticket and some salty food for something I can usually pick up bootleg at a flea market. But this was different. I was going to see what all the fuss was about. I drove myself over to the local cinema and saw the "DARK KNIGHT."

Why on a weekday, you ask? Well, around here going to the movies on a Friday or Saturday night is like dipping your nut-sack in battery acid. There's nothing but young kids and bratty little teeny-boppers that go and I find myself always wanting to break something over their heads in a fit of rage. I figured if I went during a weekday, I might cut down on the teenage-asshole factor. I turned out to be right. Although the theater was still packed, there weren't many young kids there acting a fool. Unfortunately, that didn't mean my viewing experience would turn out to be a pleasant one.

I sat alone in an isle seat all the way on the left end of the theatre. Before the coming attractions began a group of about twenty chicks strolled into the joint and headed straight for my section. These ladies were older, mid-to-late thirties give or take, but noisy nonetheless. How do people make so much noise and talk so much shit just getting in a seat? They were arguing over who sat where and who got to sit next to whom. It was like these idiots were pre-schoolers or something. It annoyed the shit out of me. And oh, yeah, I also noticed all these women were black.

"So great," I thought to myself sitting alone and contemplating trying to find another area to sit in.  "I hadn't been to a movie in 2 years and the first one I go to will be one filled with plenty of audience participation!" No offense to black women or black folk in general, but you guys do have a tendency to scream at the movie screen as if someone behind there can hear you. No, they can't hear you threaten to beat their asses. Only the rest of the audience can. Loud and motherfucking clear!

I quickly noticed I couldn't get another seat and if I stood around and actively searched for one, it might look like I'm trying to avoid being around these chatterboxes. I didn't want the drama which I assumed would ensue so I bit my lip and sat the fuck back down. The movie began and right from scene one, I knew my night would be a long one. These ladies weren't yelling at the screen, matter of fact they weren't even paying attention to the movie. They were text messaging their friends and arguing amongst themselves over what messages to text back. Within the first half hour of the film these ladies were told by numerous anonymous people to shut up. They paid them no mind.

I don't live in an area that is predominantly white. However, I don't live in Compton either as it's pretty safe around here with the exception of the Mexican bike riders who love weaving in and out of traffic. So having a large group of ghetto, and they were ghetto, black chicks in a threatre was a tad unusual. Maybe it was the title of the film that attracted these ladies, "DARK KNIGHT." They didn't act interested in the movie itself so it could have been they thought it was a Lexington Steele porn flick.

I walked out of the movie an hour and half in when I got lost in the story line because of the noise and booty call arguments. First time I walked out of a movie since 1985 when my parents and I went and saw "FLETCH and some asshole lady (she was white) in front of us was laughing so loud that we couldn't hear shit.  

I don't care if this blog sounds racist or not, I need to vent. I will never go to another movie again and sit near a group of black ladies, old or young. Bratty teenagers can be intimidated or talked into shutting the fuck up, but these ladies weren't trying to do no favors for anyone. Ushers were too scared to say something and nobody around me had the balls to go toe-to-toe with the cast of SOUL PLANE. That included yours truly. It was just easier to leave and go home and play NCAA 2009.

4:27 PM - 231 Comments - 163 Kudos - Add Comment