It was almost 10 years ago that I got on the phone with the classified director at a certain paper. “Look! I can’t stand this Craigslist shit anymore. It’s a total fucking migraine. We have to make your site work. And I know how to do it. Get one of your employees to go to an Internet cafe and pepper CL with posts which say ‘come to our site. It’s better than Craigslist!’ You’ll get deleted…and you’ll get blocked. And it will be a nightmare. But keep the guy moving around to different cafes and changing accounts. You’ll get through…and you’ll hijack Craig’s traffic.” So impressed with my street savvy were they that just a few weeks later, the paper invited me over to convene with the boss of the new aggregator site. Continue Reading
A lot of people in the adult ad biz would probably tell you that Dollar Bill was one of the best salesmen in the industry. And if not the best…at least the longest-lasting. The latter? Yes. The former? No way. I was never a salesman. Rather, I was just a schmuck with a personality who was willing to work 24/7. You wanted an ad? I’d sell it to you anytime…anywhere. If you didn’t? Fine. On to the next person who did.
One thing I never wanted to do was sell somebody something that I knew wouldn’t work. It just seemed so wrong to draw a commission for a vehicle that wouldn’t even net the advertiser what they’d spent – let alone enable them to profit from the investment. But I’m not like other sales people. Enter the classified director for a rag called The Spirit. Continue Reading
With all the reality shows on television, it would be virtually impossible for one person to watch them all. There simply aren’t enough hours in the day! Plus…who would want to watch all that crap? I mean…everybody knows (or should know) that there’s precious little reality involved and the reason networks are so keen on featuring reality presentation is because the stars command a paltry remuneration while actors like Jim Parsons earn a cool million bucks per episode.
Well anyway…idle losers like yours truly can’t help but be seduced by at least a few offerings in the immense pile of dung. So today, I think I’ll run down Reality’s Greatest Shits just for fun. Continue Reading
Today is the annual volunteer soiree down at the University Soup Kitchen. I missed last year’s because I slept through it. And I missed the year before because I was in Florida. So this year I’m determined to go. And for one very good reason.
JET BLUE is a corporation whose employees perform 120,000 hours of community service annually. And those employees do some of those hours at the USK. (Just for example, 25 Jet Bluers clad in their corporate t-shirts showed up last week.) The point man for this operation (a guy who actually volunteers frequently) will be giving away 4 pairs of round trip tickets to anywhere Jet Blue flies at the party. Winners will be chosen lottery style. Continue Reading
Almost everybody in the New York “hobbying” community knows that 11 Korean owners and ad people were arrested two weeks ago in a federal sweep. But not many understand what the defendants are currently – and will be going through – as a result. With a little research, I’ve discovered the mind-numbing nightmare they are now living.
The charges of money laundering and conspiracy are bad enough when leveled on a US citizen. But when you’re an immigrant – even with a green card – it’s considerably worse. For starters, they’ll need a defense lawyer and an immigration lawyer. While they might get lucky and find a guy who’s an expert in both areas, he or she will probably charge accordingly for their expertise. Whichever…they’ll be fighting a battle on two fronts which will no doubt cost them 6 figures if they want competent representation. Continue Reading
I’d like to have a dollar for every time I’ve read a review of an Asian girl in which the guy says something like “she left me alone for 5 minutes for what reason I don’t know and then returned ready for action.”
So exactly what does the girl do in that 5 minutes that’s so important? Well…having been witness to that 5 minutes, I can tell you she brings the house’s share of the money to the manager. Then maybe she’ll talk to her colleagues for a few seconds…or grab a few puffs on a ciggy. Ya know…normal stuff that you might expect.
Anyway…one night back when I used to partake with Asian girls…I found myself abandoned in the room for long enough that I ventured out to see what the hell was going on. Now if a client did this, the house wouldn’t be happy. But I felt as the advertising man, I could get away with it. So I sneaked out of the room to check it out only to discover that my fiance was taking a fucking dump! Continue Reading
It’s late and who wants to leave the house or wait for a girl to arrive when video chat with this and many other girls is just a few seconds away? Check it out! And every time you hit the refresh button, you’ll see a different girl. Or click the girl’s pic and the sound comes on.
Last night I went into HBO’s on demand library and checked out CONFIRMATION, a new made-for-tv movie about the events surrounding the melodramatic senate confirmation hearings which eventually anointed one CLARENCE THOMAS a Supreme Court judge.
Personally, I thought Thomas was completely full of shit. For me, he was a porn freak who sexually harassed and bullied his protege (Anita Hill) allegedly advising her during business hours that she should check out some porn (especially a guy named Long Dong Silver, who had a 19 inch dork)…that he himself had a big dick (though not the equal of the Donger’s)…and that he admired big-chested women (which Anita wasn’t)…all in some clumsy and ill-fated attempt to seduce her. What a fucking guy! Continue Reading
Well…yesterday was an interesting lesson in “be careful what you write mindlessly because some people might get offended”…as some readers weighed in on Prince passionately…and the beast I called an insane monster peppered me with endless abusive texts even though I’d changed her name in yesterday’s post.
Y’all take me too seriously. It’s not easy to write something original every day and as often as not, I get a quick idea and then pound it out in literally minutes without a whole lot of thought…and often with no real agenda beyond adding a new entry daily. For the commenting contributors on the subject of Prince…I appreciate your input. It’s all valuable and much more passionate on the subject than I am. As for the beast? Nobody knows who the fuck Sadie is. Get over it. Continue Reading
Some 25 years ago, an article ran in People Magazine proclaiming long time drug abuser JIMMY PAGE of Led Zeppelin clean and sober after years of prodigious partying. That same week, I picked up a fare in my cab who scored cocaine, heroin and needles for guess who! I believed him because at some point in our adventure, I had to call up to Jimmy Page’s room at the UN Plaza to summon his friend back down. And when a British guy answered and I asked “Jimmy?” he responded “yeah, mate?” He was also playing in New York that week.
Prince was supposed to be drug free himself. But when I heard he died at age 57, I put two and two together and apparently, came up with the right answer. It turns out that according to his dealer, Prince was placing orders for $40,000 worth of various pain killers every 6 months. I used to date an insane monster who was on that crap. But hopeless drug addict that she was, even Sadie (fake name) couldn’t do all that! Continue Reading
In this day and age of ubiquitous pornography featuring huge everything, people are rightfully insecure. The stars in the genre are just so over the top it’s ridiculous! And so…when lovers get together, they try to bolster each other’s ego to lubricate the wheels of carnal satisfaction.
A while back, I had a girlfriend with a great body…but busted implants. God gave her everything except breasts. And the doctor really hadn’t helped that much. As a result, she was insecure about the one part of her body that was lacking…and I was always sure to tell her she had big tits…and they seemed to be getting bigger. And it worked like a charm. The wheels lubricated instantly. Continue Reading
It was way before I knew anything about Asian women coming to America for a better life that I was enlightened on of all trips…a road gig with a tired oldies band.
During what felt like an endless six months playing behind JOEY DEE as a STARLIGHTER (he had the 11th most popular song of 1961 – The Peppermint Twist), Joe booked us for three nights at the Mayport Naval Base, just outside of Jacksonville, Florida. The first we played at the Officers Club, a posh, carpeted environment with deadened acoustics which made us sound like musak. Next…the non-commissioned officers club – an environment of which I have virtually no recollection – though I’m sure it was decent enough. And finally on the third night, in a super noisy and acoustically-challenged linoleum-floored cafeteria where we performed for the grunts. Regardless of the music bouncing off of everything and making us sound loud, shrill and just as bad as we possibly could have, those have-not/end-of-the-line type guys who landed in the navy rather than jail or the welfare rolls totally appreciated the show. That was the audience who most enjoyed the band. Continue Reading
Part Little Richard, Jimi Hendrix and James Brown, PRINCE was an icon who many people revered as a genius. But I wasn’t one of them. After his first record (“I Wanna Be Your Lover”), I never bought another one. I’m sorry…his music didn’t really appeal to me. Nor did his bizarre persona.
Many years ago, I was at the Ritz on 11th Street at some music business party or other. I used to attend them regularly back then. As I was scoring a Budweiser in the back while SHEILA E performed, a roar erupted from the crowd. My first thought was FIRE! No kidding! I turned the corner to see what all the fuss was about to discover that Prince had come on stage with his guitar unannounced. And that’s what drove the crowd nuts. I watched for maybe two minutes and retired back to the bar. Maybe the sheep were hypnotized…but I wasn’t. Continue Reading
Here’s an oldie from waaaay back! As I say in the text, good escort stories are few and far between. But this one is an exception. Read on and be the judge!
Every so often (and not nearly often enough) an “escort” tells me a fabulously entertaining story. This month’s best comes from a she male client who sells her wares on The Upper East Side.
It seems she was out one night with a female friend when at 4 A.M., while they were making a purchase in a deli, Alex happened upon what she described as a beautiful Italian policeman. Thinking she was a female, he hit on her in the store…successfully enough to persuade Alex to give him her phone number. He promised to call around 6 AM when his shift broke and sure enough, at about 6:30, she was awakened by a call. It was the cop and soon he was on his way over for a nightcap. Continue Reading
Now that everybody’s calmed down about the data base being in the feds’ hands, the next question on dudes’ minds is what are the girls going to do now? I mean…there aren’t a lot of places to work (save spas, a venue they don’t like or they would have already been there)…and I don’t picture them going independent. Here’s what I figure:
It’s not just New Yorkers who fancy Asian women. Over the years, I’ve heard many stories about places in Virginia, Atlanta, Washington, Philadelphia, Texas, California, and even out-of-the way rural places and truck stop stuff. So it stands to reason that just as the girls moved around from place to place in New York…they’ll be moving to other areas of the country to escape what they rightfully view as dangerous territory. Continue Reading
While federal agents were giving Korea’s best a good fucking on the ground last week, two of NYC’s top police brass were doing the same to one of their sisters in the air – if a New York Post cover story is to be believed. And the sordid tale goes like this:
Once upon a time there were two jewish business men, fine jewish boys at that. A couple of real estatenicks with connections in high places. Without chronicling all their back scratching with cops and politicos (which are considerable), it appears that one quid pro quo in their MO involved private plane flights to Vegas of all places (talk about tacky) during which one top cop from the Upper East Side…and another from Borough Park (both very jewish neighborhoods) were along for a carnal “ride” that featured a hooker…dressed in flight attendant attire…asking “coffee, tea or me” (as apparently requested) before servicing the boys in blue. Oy givalt is about the only way I can appropriately sum this one up! Continue Reading
Yesterday was opening day for the 2016 hiking season. Or at least it was for a certain blogger who turns 66 today. I went prepared with some old school Coppertone. But it wasn’t SPF 30 and I now have two sunburned hands (of all places). Ouch! But what a day! It was 84 degrees in the Hudson Valley and what with the 10 mile hike I took, I felt every degree. Surprisingly, all my muscles and joints are fine even though I chose a pretty difficult trail. It’s only my hands that are in discomfort. Unfortunately, I have no photos to share for one simple reason. Cameras are too heavy to carry on a hike and while I’d like to capture the moments for posterity, it’s enough that I hump lunch, water and a few other essentials. And thus, you get no mementos. Continue Reading
In the wake of last week’s calamity, the question foremost on guys’ minds concerns exactly what action the Feds will take after seizing a data base containing the names of 70,000 AMP customers. I’m not a federal agent…nor a lawyer…and I have no inside information. But I do have some sense as to what might or might not happen with that vital information and the guys whose names appear on the list.
Before I start, let me comment on that number 70,000. My and the girls’ impression is the Feds came up with that figure by adding all the seized data bases together. Thus, the great majority are duplicates – as the same customers appear on most of them. So really, the actual figure is more in the neighborhood of 10,000. Continue Reading
For football fans out there! I got a good book for y’all called :“NFLCONFIDENTIAL.” It’s an expose written by a second string lineman about the realities of life in the league. In his book, the author describes a scene in the training camp cafeteria during which the black players sit at one table…and the whites at another…for no particular or spoken reason. While the team doesn’t have a race problem per se, he observes this unique (or maybe not so unique) reality at meal time.
All this came to mind today at the University Soup Kitchen. I was in the pantry section hanging with Emerson and Mahalia. It could just as easily have been Angie and Ari. Or Joe and Vin. The fact that Emerson and Mahalia are black…Angie and Ari are Korean and Arab/Israeli respectively…and Joe and Vin are Italian and from Bangladesh was secondary. I have something to talk about with each and every one. Continue Reading
The time: 1 PM Tuesday afternoon. The place: Sitting in front of my computer…on the phone with a homey who was getting ready to crack open his prospective girlfriend du jour when the other line clicked with a call. “Billy-ah!!! Everybody! Everybody!!!” It’s not the first time I’ve received a panicked phone call like that! Without further explanation, I knew there was a big bust happening in the Korean community.
I’d already called a couple of places that morning having decided to add a “spin zone” button on top for any girl weighing 100 lbs. or less. I needed to know if there was anybody who fit the bill. But the first two calls went to voice mail. I wondered why. Now I knew! After finishing up with the distraught girl…and my buddy…I called a few more locations with the same result: voice mail. Continue Reading
Once upon a time, the USA was on a roll. Whatever war we fought, the country either emerged victorious – or at least accomplished its goal. But eventually, the tide turned. The war on alcohol? A dismal failure. The war in Vietnam? Even worse. The war against terrorism? Not really going so well. The war on drugs? Don’t make me laugh. And finally, to the war on selling companionship.
This week, the Feds won a battle on that front. In a service industry so ubiquitous that a rational mind would find it futile to even attempt to eradicate the “problem,” they managed to take out the very best of the industry.
Let’s face it: Not every massage parlor, incall, or whatever is especially clean or staffed with reputable people. There is a grungy side to the business. After 20 years selling ads for all manner of media, I’ve seen the grime. So grimy that I decided to let somebody else be their ad servants. But the scourge of the industry is not who the Feds got. Continue Reading
Greater legal minds than mine have told me to shut the fuck up and lay low about what happened yesterday. So I trashed the editorial I wrote and have simply decided to post a pdf of the indictment for your edification.
It makes for very interesting reading I’m sure y’all will agree. And I gotta say…the Feds got it right! They describe the Korean scene surprisingly accurately. Once you get 15 pages in, you’ll come to understand how!
It’s a funny deal the way a democracy works. Just so you’re 18 years of age and a citizen of the country, you get to vote. Whether you have any knowledge of where the candidates stand is irrelevant. Nobody need pass an examination to obtain the voting right. And the sad truth is that most people are painfully unfamiliar with the issues and vote with their gut simply judging by the feeling they get from the would-be’s.
I’m more or less as guilty as anybody else. I figure whatever stand a candidate takes will change anyway…and what they’re saying now might not be what they say in a year or two. Plus, they’re so bought and sold by campaign contributors (except in rare cases) that they can’t speak their minds anyway. Continue Reading
When your average American Joe thinks of the Secret Service, he thinks about a guy in a cheap suit and mirrored sunglasses protecting the life of the president. His service is at the most extreme to take a bullet for the prez. Over time, they’ve done a remarkable job (even with their failures) as you can’t imagine how many day in and day out threats there actually are on the president’s life. (This fact I discovered while reading a book titled HUNTING THE PRESIDENT.) Continue Reading
How sublime was the moment when the next president of the United States couldn’t get her fucking Metrocard to work in the subway? Suhweeet! Who among us hasn’t swiped his own card furiously trying to make the blasted system function as the train pulled in and out of the station? And what I wanna know is…how come the MTA can’t get those stupid goddamn turnstiles to work? God forbid you just jump the mother fucker to make your train ’cause you know they’ll be some undercover waiting to nab your dumb ass. Continue Reading
Just as my old man once admonished me back in my college days…”you think you hippies invented pot?”…I say something similar to the “now” generation about multi-tasking, a term invented in more recent times – but an activity which goes way back. Like…how many times did I try to do my homework while listening to music – or watching tv?
Anybody with any maturity knows that when you try to do two things at the same time, your accuracy and efficiency will suffer. Back when I used to post Backpage, every night held the same activity: Setting up all the ads for the next day as I listened to tunes in my headphones. Mostly, I got away with it as neither activity was particularly demanding. But occasionally, I would fuck up spectacularly and cause myself a headache in the process. Continue Reading
I don’t know…but I must have done something right to get the displays of appreciation I received yesterday. First, one of the homeless guys at the soup kitchen yelled out above the din “God bless all you volunteers for this wonderful meal.” Trust me, he’s the exception to the rule among a sea of entitled layabouts. But guys like him make the effort seem worthwhile.
Then when I got home and checked my phone, there was a text from one of the new advertisers thanking me for her ad with she had already reconnected with an old regular. Brilliant! That’s exactly what this blog is supposed to do…not blow your phone up with bull shit…but have it ring gently with quality individuals who give the girls exactly the kind of guests who appreciate their efforts and make their entire pursuit seem worthwhile. Continue Reading
Her name was Silver. I doubt that’s what it said on her birth certificate. In fact, I know that’s not what it said on her birth certificate. Her real name was Anthony something. I just remember girlfriend was half Puerto Rican and half Jewish. And she did this hilarious gravelly-voiced Maude kind of imitation of an old bitty complaining about the weather in Florida (“Mordy! Fetch me a sweater. I’m cold. It’s 82!”)
Silver was one of my first transsexual clients for Action Magazine. She lived in a hastily renovated loft on 17th Street between 6th and 7th Avenues…and had a little black and white television with only three channels. It was a George Burns kind of deal. Channel 1 showed the door to the building. Channel 2 viewed the landing to her apartment. And Channel 3 came courtesy of a hidden camera in the room where all the fun happened! Continue Reading
One upon a time, I was a huge baseball fan. I pretty much knew every player on every team. But of all the heroes, my #1 guy was MICKEY MANTLE. And I wasn’t alone. Legions of baby boomers idolized a man who turned out to be quite a flawed individual in real life. Bad father…bad drunk…bad temper…and on and on. Whatever…Mick was the eternal mischievous adolescent for almost his entire life. And who can’t relate to that?
I just finished a book written by ALLEN BARRA, ex-contributing writer for the Village Voice, on the parallel lives of Mickey Mantle and WILLIE MAYS. And right toward the end (on page 388) lay a gem about Mickey I just have to share. I thought I’d heard most of the crazy Mantle stories but this one I missed. Continue Reading
All occupations have their special lingo. Like with Action Mag, we used to refer to the different ad types (outcall, incall, fetish, she male) as classes of trade. Or with selling ads for the Voice, a “run” was an ad that ran the previous week and would run the next unchanged. A “pick up” was an ad that ran previously at some point – but had not run in the last issue. A “twenty eighth” was a minimum size display ad. For Backpage, a “sponsor ad” was the terminology used for that stupid box ad on the side that never worked for shit. Anyway…you get my drift. An old buddy used to refer to all this as “inside baseball” meaning…nobody would know what the fuck you were talking about unless they too were part of the clique.
Knowing the lingo of somebody else’s job generally serves to ingratiate you – just as knowing how to speak another language puts you in good standing with people who speak that language primarily. You see a Spanish girl and say something in the throes along the lines of “Me gusta tu chocha. Es bien suave y apretada”…she’ll be a lot more receptive than if you say the same thing in English. Especially if she doesn’t speak English. Continue Reading