Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Chapter 1: Business with Pleasure Camille had just stepped out of the shower from a five hour sex fest with Hercules, who was a professional male stripper and escort. Camille was a petite woman who stood at 5' 5” and 135 lbs with short cropped Halle Berry-like hair style and a dark flawless skin and full natural lips that would make Actress and Humanitarian, Angelina Jolie jealous. When she put on her robe and wrapped the belt tighter around her taut waist, she returned to the room where she saw Hercules laying on the bed smoking weed and listening to Lil Wayne on his I-phone. “You were awesome, baby” Camille said and started brushing her soft hair in front of the mirror. Hercules pulled hard on his spliff and blew out some smoke and gave her a wink. “You weren't so bad either, doll. Well, I gotta get ready for my show,” he said and proceeded to get dressed. “So soon at this time of night?” Camille asked and craned her head at him so fast, she could have given herself whiplash. There was pregnant silence for a moment. Hercules finished off his weed and stood up to put his underwear on. At the site of Hercules' 10 inch dinosaur ding-a-ling, Camille's coochie was about to cum convulsively. Hercules was a toffee-colored muscular bachelor who could have passed for a body builder but he chose to strip for a living. He donned long thick locs that nearly touched his buttocks and a dragon tattoo that covered half his torso and hazel eyes that were framed with long lashes and plush lips that would make a stud wanna have his babies. He lived in the moment and he didn't take life too seriously. His job was to fulfill women fantasies, collect his guap, and go home. Hercules slept with with all sorts of women regardless of their sexual orientation, career, skin color, age, height, religion, or weight. As long as their money was green, he gave them the kind of fun would make Fabio jealous. “Yep, I gotta another party to go to. And this party is gonna be 60 something year old grannies who are paid and they wanna taste of this man dingo,” Hercules said while stepping his lefts into his pants one feet at a time and pulling them up. “Well, alright” Camille heavily sighed and resumed brushing her hair in the mirror. Hercules frowned a little and then put on his black wife beater shirt. He wasn't understanding why Camille was acting like she and he were in a committed relationship when she was supposed to be getting married to someone else. He knew he an irresistible catch but he knew he was not in the relationship or monogamy business because his occupation wouldn't allow it. Hercules wasn't always a sight for sore eyes. He once weighed a whopping 450 pounds and his real name was Eckerd Leigh, who secretly underwent gastric bypass surgery. Before he underwent the procedure, he used to work as a security guard at an all-you-can-buffet restaurant called “Finger lickin' Fixin's”. There, he was in a relationship with a woman named, Teka Charleston, who was also an employee where he worked. They were together for six months and talked about getting married. On the day of their wedding, she never showed up to the alter and she told him she was pregnant by the owner of the restaurant and they both eloped. Eckerd was so heart broken that he had a coronary attack. Thankfully, he survived. He had already had respiratory problems and he was overweight all of his life and until his doctor told him that needed to change his eating habits or end up like his mother who died from hypertension and diabetes the year before, he chose to lose the weight and he was granted the opportunity to undergo gastric bypass surgery. The owner of “Finger Lickin' Fixin's eventually fired Eckerd and he had to move in with his cousin, Malik, who was a professional stripper who ran an escort company. Once Eckerd underwent the procedure, he began losing weight and then he would frequent the gym. A year later, he was solid 220 pounds of muscles and was barely recognizable and Malik tried to get him into becoming an escort and male stripper but Eckerd was reluctant at first. But when he thought about how badly Teka had broke his heart and saw the kind of money his cousin, Malik, was making, he decided to try his hands at stripping and escorting, Malik gave him the name, Hercules and Eckerd was laid to rest ever since. Not only was Hercules a man who was scorned once but he was a man he was determined to never fall in love. It would only be about money, sex, and having fun. He mastered the art of not caring about breaking up happy homes because he knew that his job was to fulfill the women fantasy and go home. It was just business. Nothing more and nothing less. Camille was no exception. “You can make an appointment with me so that we can get together again. My partner and I have spring time special for $250.00 for an three hour session. That includes a full body massage and all other sex acts you desire. I really had a great time,” Hercules said with a half-smile and button up his shirt.” Camille stared at him once again but it was through the mirror this time. I understand you have a business and all but I was hoping you'd stay a little long or at least do lunch with me sometimes,” she said with a sad face that was longer than the scream mask. Hercules was used to women wanting to consummate relationships with him but he never expressed interest of being with them other than them paying him for sex and entertainment and nothing more. He wanted to reject Camille kindly without hurting her feelings. Of course, she was beautiful but she was a dime in a dozen. Besides, she cheated on her husband-to-be. Not that Hercules cared because he slept with women who were married for 10 years or more but for them to want to leave their husbands for him was quite preposterous to him. Because they all knew the kind of business he was in. He couldn't comprehend why they'd leave their husbands to be with someone who'd cheat on them and leave them. As much as he loved women, he knew he'd never fully understand the illogical decisions they made when it came to sustaining successful relationships, regardless of their flaws. Hercules was hoping that Camille would accept that she'd have to pay him for everything, even if she wanted him to pretend to be her husband while they shopped at the grocery store for 45 minutes. He accosted her while she stood in front of the mirror and he gave her kiss on the nape of her neck in hopes of assuaging her anger. “I think you're a great lady, Ms. Camille. I normally charge for all requests. If you'd like to have lunch with me, you will have to pay me for my time. If you can do that, I'd love to have lunch with you. As for me staying longer, I already mentioned that I have another appointment in about an hour. If you'd like to schedule to meet with me again, I'd be delighted to make it worth your while if the price is write,” he said with a smile and a wink. Camille sucked her teeth and shook her head. “I really like you and I don't have enough money to continue paying you. I cannot afford you. Hell, I used my fiance's money to pay for sex and his hotel room. I recently lost my job as a government employee and I financially depend on my fiance. I can pay you with a hearty home cooked meal at my house, full body massages, or with food stamps,” she seriously said. Hercules had to prevent himself from erupting in laughter. He was used to women bribing him, but with food stamps? He always made his clients pay up front before fulfilling his duties and he made and oath to himself to not bending his rules. That's what his cousin, Malik taught him. Malik only worked with rich white women because he said they paid well and they were very uninhibited and they never complained like the black women did. Hercules thought it was discriminative and he didn't believe all black women were the same and he didn't think all white women great either because he recall when he went to a white woman's house, she had told him that her husband were at work and her kids were in school. But what she didn't know was that her husband was surprising her by coming home early for their anniversary and he caught Hercules in bed with her. Her husband threatened to kill him. Hercules shirt was opened and his pants were unzipped and he barely made it out the front door when he saw a bullet whizz passed his head. He was running faster than Kunta Kinte when the second bullet grazed his right leg and he finally made it safe to his car and drove the hell out of dodge. As far as Hercules was concerned, race didn't matter because all races had their infallibility. “My dear, I have been in business for a minute now and as a reputable business man, I do not except IOU's, food stamps, checks, nor do I barter. When you have the money, give me a call, ok?” He stated and turned her face toward his and planted a soft peck on her lips in hopes it would make her feel better. “I gotta go” he said and stuffed the rest of the contents into his duffel bag and proceeded to leave. “So, you just gonna leave and that's it? Camille exclaimed. I spent $400.00 on you and you gonna tell me that I got pay you to have lunch with you? You fine and all but you ain't all that. Why don't you pay me back my damn money then!” Camille shouted and flailed her arms. Hercules remained calmed. “Sweetheart, there are no refunds. You paid me for my services and I gave you what you wanted - sex. This is business and I have to live like you do. If you can't stand the policy, then you should take your business elsewhere. Otherwise, when you come to that realization then give ma call. Have a great night.” “You son of a bitch! screw you and kiss my ass,” she retorted and threw her brush at him. He closed the door quickly and the brush hit the door where his face was moments ago. “Loony bitch. See a shrink!” he shouted at the door and quickly padded down the steps and got into this Mercedes. His phone rang. He looked at his phone and saw a text from one of his clients, Betty Jacobs. Betty Jacobs was a 65 year old white woman, who's ex- husband Tom Schillinger, owned the water beverage company called “Blue Mountain Ridge”. When one of Tom's gay lovers exposed him to media about their alleged affair, Tom denied it at first but when Betty saw pictures of Tom and his gay lover “Papi” plastered on the front cover of the “National Referrer Magazine,” she immediately filed for divorce. She and Tom were amicable because they had two grown kids and five grown kids together. She lived lavishly. Betty never worked a day in her life and she shopped and attended broad way plays, operas, and went on countless vacations at his expense. Although, Tom broke her heart, it still was hard for her to end her 35 year marriage to him. It took her a year to begin dating again and the Paparazzi spotted her at night clubs with young bachelors. Since her ex-husband felt he was free to live his life freely, she felt she was free to have her life freely too. She wanted to feel younger, so she frequented strip clubs and she and Hercules met each other at “The National Strip Club Convention” and when they first locked eyes, they took a liking to each other. Betty offered to pay him top dollar for his work and he agreed not to let her down. Hercules heard that Betty had a special thing for young Hispanic and black men. Preferably black men. Still trying to wrap his mind about what transpired with Camille earlier, he received a text from Betty that said “We're waiting, black stallion. Bring your beautiful black stallion ass over here.” Hercules smiled, turned on Lil Wayne's “Wayne Carter” Album, lit up another spliff, revved up his engine and fired out of that parking space like a speeding bullet. Money was time and time was money and he was determined to make it worth his while. Chapter 2: Crouching Secrets, Overt Desires “I don't believe that bastard!” Camille shouted to herself while feeling like a total fool. One would think that she and Hercules had a relationship but the truth was they met the same night of her surprise bachelorette party. Camille and her best friend, Miracle and sister, Viola. She didn't know what the two of them had planned for her until the electrician knocked on her door and she answered it and asked him who he was. He said he was a plumber who was employed by “Pipes R Us” and that he was passing by in the neighborhood and noticed flood of sewage on the side of her house. She gasped and he asked her he could come in and check her plumbing. When she admitted him in, he thanked her and shook her hand. When he asked her where he kitchen and bathroom was so he could check her pipes, Viola said “Did you say pipes” and he said “I sure did” and he disrobed down to his g-string, which almost shocked Camille's relaxed hair back into it's nappy roots. Camille and her sister and best friend had a blast of her life. Viola and Miracle only paid for him to make an appearance but Camille took it upon herself to pay for a hotel room and to have sex with him. Of course, Miracle and Viola didn't think it was a great idea but they couldn't stop her. Camille was slated to marry her partially deaf , Kenneth Lane, in a week and she wasn't bothered by having an affair with Hercules because she didn't love Kenneth and she really wanted to call the wedding off but she didn't want to deal with his bougie mother, Margie. Margie was a retired teacher and she was the one raised Kenneth since he was three. Kenneth had lost 80 % of his hearing and he lost both of his legs when he was Iraq. Getting married was all Kenneth's idea and his mother didn't think it was a great idea because she and Camille didn't get along. Margie accused of her being a gold digger, who was only with her son because of his disability and veteran check and Kenneth would always come to Camille's aid and she'd smile in Margie's face. Margie wanted to slap the smile off her face. Camille could care less about Kenneth or Margie. She vehemently picked up her cell phone and called her best friend, Miracle. “Hey, girl. Where the hell are you?” Miracle quickly asked when she answered the phone. “I'm at the hotel” Camille dryly spoke. “Well, what happened. I mean, you just hauled ass with dude like he was your man or something. I hope you didn't do what I think you did, girl.” A scowl made its way across Camille's face like Miracle had asked her the dumbest question that would piss off Albert Einstein. “What the hell do you think a man and woman do when they're in a hotel together, Miracle?” Camille frustratingly said. “Camille, you didn't!” Miracle replied with a gasp “No, he and me was discussing wall street over a cup of tea and chocolate chip cookies. Bitch, I swear you ask the dumbest ass questions,” Camille scoffed and switched her cell phone from her left ear to her right ear. “Whatever, bitch. You already know Viola is going to whoop your ass for running off with that dude when you don't even know him like that.” Camille sucked her teeth and sat on her bed. “Oh, shit. You just talked her up because she's calling through from the other line. Thanks a lot, bitch. Camille hit the ignore button Viola's call. “And besides, my birth certificate and driver's license say I'm a grown ass woman and Viola isn't listed as the mother on my birth certificate,” Camille reminded. “Ever since she got “saved” again and got engaged to that pastor, she think she's all of that in a bag of popcorn with extra butter and shit,” she continued. “But, Camille you know how your sister is. She may be your younger sister but she's wise beyond her years.” “Bull crap!” Camille shot back. “You and my sister both hired a male stripper as a surprise for me and now both of you bitches wanna act all brand new because I had sex with him? I know you a free-spirited person, Miracle but ever since my sister got engaged to that ol' pork chop eating pastor, she wanna act all holier-than-thou. Or have you forgot that heffa got herself knocked up by a married man, who she had a one night stand with in Miami Beach two years ago, and then got an abortion because he made her do it out of fear of it ruinin' his chances of running for Circuit Judge in Dade County, Florida? Yeah, ok.” “Yes, but at least she turned over a new leaf and she repented for what she did. We don't have to make excuses for what we do by doing things we aren't supposed to do.” Camille sucked her teeth again and rolled her eyes in the air. “Are you done yet?” she indignantly remarked. “I mean, damn. Who's side are you on anyway?” “I'm not on anyone's side. I'm against the offense. You and Kenneth are supposed to get married an--“ “Yes I know that already, damnit,” Camille snapped and rolled her eyes and frustratingly combed her fingers through her semi-damp mane and sighed. “Then you know what you need to do,” Miracle nonchalantly and calmly said. Camille's furrowed her eyebrows so hard, they almost turned into a huge unibrow. She pretty much know where Miracle was toting conversation. “Uh uh. No, I'm still going to marry him. I'm just not gonna tell him about the affair. That's all.” “But what if the shoe was on the other foot, Camille. How do you think you'd feel if Kenneth was having sex with another woman at your expense?” “I'd cut his dick off and feed it to that bitch he cheated on me with!” Camille huffily stated “And you don't think it wouldn't hurt him if he knew you were messing around on him?” “First off, he been through much worse because he ain't got no legs and he damn near deaf. Me doin' a little bit of cheatin' on him ain't gonna break him unless somebody tells him!” “Listen, I didn't call you to argue with you but I do hope you know what you're doing because it can haunt you like a hound dog and as for him finding out, you already know I'm not in the snitching business and your sister already suspects that you and dude had sex. So, you should be more concerned about her because she'll probably tell him.” “And if that bitch does, I'll seduce her man, film it and break up their fairytale relationship,” Camille angrily threatened. Miracle gasped and clutched her pearls. “Camille, I am very disappointed in you. I've heard enough and I'm about to hang up because you've gone too far with these shenanigans. I really hope you do what's right. I'm about to hang up and pray for you,” Miracle said with evident disappointment in her voice. “I emptied every fuck I gave that was in my purse. What you need to do is worry about yourself, stay out of my business and you better not utter of any of this to my sister. I can handle her “woman-thou-art-loosed” ass and as for you, I suggest you stop sipping on that Kool-Aid because it isn't becoming of you either. Now run along and tell that good old Jesus!” Camille sardonically replied.
Monday, March 17, 2014
Again, ya'll need to watch out for this STANK HO named, Linda Evans. Off with her half-permed, shaved-bird looking decomposed teeth, cock-eyed, animal abuser, deformed eye-brows having ass head. I had to repost this because the bull fuckery is insane and the bullshit is perpetual. Unlike her, no one does it better than a true writer, who's got more followers on her blog than Linda "Fake Ass Queen of Radio" Evans has on her show. I'm just saying. Leave it to the true careerists, hon. She never had a career because it was always a figment of her pathetic imagination. TRUE Queens never have to collect cans to pay their bills nor sleep with their "best friends" to pay their bills. Oh, and as for her dog, Shera, I hope the Illinois Humane Society confiscated her from Linda's trifling "bathe in a dish pan that's inside of a trash can" ass because that poor dog had a lump on the side of her neck that was bigger than Linda's entire radio career. Then she uses marketing gimmicks to keep folks tuning in to her punk ass amateur radio show. She barely spends enough time social networking, but she's got the UMEMPLOYED NIGGA-DACITY and WHORE-DACITY to beg listeners to join her mickey mouse ass birthday club. This poor woman talks a bunch of "Keeping it Real" talk when she's too afraid to travel back to Chicago or better yet, GET A GODDAMN REAL JOB! Those Chicago goons have this broad shaking in her gnawed up ass sandals, lol. Girl, when are you gonna learn that Blog Talk Radio isn't gonna make you rich? You gotta have a track record in order to remotely be considered for a NATIONAL TV show. Hell, all you know is internet radio and that shit is owned by "Get Up Radio" which is owned by your rinky dinky stinky sponsor. Your radio show is NOT your show, boo. Now, when you get your own show on a bigger radio platform and a brand, HOLLA WHEN YOU FEEL ME, HO! Because a cheap looking ass website does not make you a brand AT ALL. See, if you were humbled, you wouldn't have to beg listeners for show ideas and shit. Hell, you had me on your team until you showed your STANK ass. What goes around, comes around, beeotch! I'd like to say bon voyage to your "never was" career but "never was" is a DEAD-giveaway. Like the skit on Dave Chappelle's Show said "When Keeping it Real Goes Wrong" LMAO!!
For all of you who aren't familiar with Brother Dawah, I suggest you look him up on Youtube. He's a passionate revolutionary, who penned his first controversial book entitled "Definition of a Broke Azz" now, I haven't had the opportunity to read it yet, but I can state that Mr. Dawah details why homosexuality is an abominable lifestyle. He's also done a few video segments, exhibiting graphic photographs of men and animals whose anuses were swollen and literally exposed all the way to Africa, due to sodomy. You can find these videos under "Definition of a Broke Azz" on Youtube and I must warn you that the graphic nature of the videos may shock the devil out of you, so beware. Dawah Israel is no fan of homosexuality and he makes it crystal clear on a daily basis. He also expresses his disdain for white people, who he incessantly terms "crakkkas". I personally respect him as a stand-up individual because not only is he very vocal about social and economic change for black people, homosexuality, and race, he isn't one to back down from a debate or opposition. He's quite animated BUT firm with his beliefs. So, to all the white people and LGBT advocates out there, if you all see Mr. Dawah, you better run to the opposite direction because he's digging sink holes specially for you, LOL
Hello, international and national readers! I'm back again with more updates. Now, I know that I stated that I'll be updating this blog more often. Well, due to personal challenges, I haven't done what I said I'd do. I know that some of my loyal readers miss my antics and habitual blog updates. Hell, so do I. I mean, that's what writing is for - to vent and express, right? Yeah, that's what I thought, too. I am back in the writing mode again and I have so much to share with you guys. I plan to share controversial and personal posts as well as current events along with all other sorts of personal interests. I haven't changed being the type of writer that I am, but I will say that I am stepping my writing game up like never before. Ahh, I recall exposing the pseudo professional editor and all other low-life undesirables on this blog. Ya see, on this blog, what you see is what you get. I'm giving it to you with no sugar, cream, or honey; just rawness.