I get that in the new technological world, abbreviations and a new sort of shorthand rule. I myself will send text messages along the lines of “r u wrkng 2nite?” But here’s the difference: I know how to write “Are you working tonight?” correctly. But I’m not so sure about everybody else.
Reading through comments and posts written by men who earn enough money to pay women $300 for an hour of their time, I’m constantly amazed at their grammatical errors. It makes me wonder if they slept through the third grade! You would think earners in their category would know the difference among “they’re,” “there,” and their.” Or “two,” “too,” and “to.” I understand that skilled blue-collar laborers can make into 6 figures even though they slept through grammar school. But still…I remain amazed. Continue Reading
You know the old joke about lawyers, right? If you don’t, here goes: Lawyer on the beach up to his neck in sand. What’s wrong with this picture? Answer: Not enough sand. Haha! Ok! To be truthful, I like my lawyers. They’re nice Jewish boys in Armani suits – which I’ve paid for many times over. But 100% they ain’t.
Like just for example…I had an important meeting yesterday at which my lawyer was supposed to be present. He forgot! And that’s the second time the dude pulled that stunt. I pay this guy $525/hour. And that includes his commutation time! Still, he’s a no-show. Brilliant!
I got another barrister at the firm (I know…Muckety Muck Bill). This dude is strictly the money guy. Ya know, the tax expert. I arrive home yesterday to find an email from him declaring “Dollar Bill Wins”…referring to the final final notice that I don’t owe the IRS any money. Continue Reading
I know it sounds weird…but I’ve come to appreciate our president. And ya know why? Because he gives me something to write about every day!
So anyway…along with his “shithole country” remark, el jefe wondered out loud why people from Norway don’t want to emigrate to the US. How come we only get the “shitholers” (my word)?
And now I’m gonna tell ya why, Mr. T. Because to people from Norway (and pretty much all the Scandinavian countries), the United States is a shithole country! On balance, the educational and health systems are superior where they live. The standard of living is higher – and people are happier. And one more thing: They don’t have Donald Trump as their leader! Finally…their country isn’t trying to dictate to the world. Continue Reading
Every day, it seems we get another news flash revealing our current president’s colorful personality. One day he refers to third world countries as “shitholes.” The next he declares he’s “the least racist person you’d ever want to see.” And yesterday, a story surfaced about an affair with yet another blond-haired, fake-breasted, and flat-assed woman – this one a porn star by the name of STORMY DANIELS.
At this point, we’ve gotten an eyeful of the Donald’s women past and present. And here’s what I wanna know: Yo, DJT! Where your women of color, brother? Don’t tell me there isn’t one woman in that vast pool of beauty you never busted a clumsy move on. I have a theory herein. Black women simply do not appeal to him sexually. But he’s no racist, right? Continue Reading
Picture the scene. Two guys are standing around jaw-boning when one makes a statement which just seems too ridiculous. Sensing his friend’s dubious reaction, he who made the statement declares “Yo, man! Look it up!” Yes, we’ve all heard that affirmation many times before. And now I’ve turned it into a song.
Our protagonist (which would be me as I sing free-of-charge – though not that well) is in love with a girl. And if she doubts his true devotion, she can “look it up,” “google his name,” and discover “it’s all over Instagram” and the “worldwide web.”
I know. It ain’t Bob Dylan. It’s just a horny guy tryin’ to get laid (or married God forbid). But it’s a cute idea (at least, I think so). So here it is in video form (why not? It only took me about an hour to learn the software and then complete the project), the Dollar Bill one man band. Written, performed, sung and videoized by one guy. No need for any employes. Ya know…my usual business model.
There he stood as proud and regal as could be. The president of the United States of America – arguably the planet’s greatest country – had his hand over his heart as he sang along to the country’s national anthem. Small problem, though. He doesn’t know the words. Now there’s your patriot right there!
I’ll give the Donald one thing: He never fails to amaze! The president doesn’t know the words to the national anthem? Get the fuck outta here! Makes me question whether he could pass a citizenship test! I wonder what all the rednecks who elected him think now? Exactly! They don’t think. Or else why would they have elected him? Gadzooks! No experience…no brains…and a track record of bankruptcies and bailouts. Now that’s presidential material right there.
Harkening back to the “lesson learned” post from a few days ago, I’m sorry to report that the ballbuster woman from the senior center didn’t learn her lesson despite my overt displays (saluting el jefe and calling her “boss”). It turns out she was deeply offended and expressed her dissatisfaction to the big boss (a compassionate, sensible woman who I happen to like). But it wasn’t until the end of the shift that I heard about all that.
The milfy type who’s number 2 at the joint, referred to me as the “undercover boss” (from the tv show) when I arrived, the implication being that there’s something about me that rings of competence and leadership. She’s in the process of figuring out that there’s more than meets the eye with this new guy William. Continue Reading
Reading back through forum conjecture about me, I had to laugh at some of the assumptions guys made about my riches. Several surmised that I owned a “service.” Others thought I was getting paid on a click by click basis. Still more assumed the ad fees on this site were way higher than they actually were or that I got a piece of every guy who walked in the door. Mostly, everybody was off the mark.
First, let me say that this blog was never a big moneymaker. I founded it simply to ventilate on the frustrations of dealing with many difficult people. It was not designed to make me rich. That had already happened from selling advertising. But I wasn’t the only entity doing that. So how come I amassed wealth when people like Somad, the infamous advertising agency which got busted wide open several years ago, was actually in poor financial condition? It was the business model. Continue Reading
The other day I was having (or trying to have) a serious conversation with a cute hooker I know. Her taste in boyfriends is more than a little suspect and I presumed to suggest that she stop dating drug dealers and thugs in favor of somebody with half a brain and future. The woman pondered my advice and answered “Well I am a smart girl,” meaning she has the right stuff to mentally stimulate a man like that.
I will say that this individual has her gifts. But mental agility simply isn’t one of them. To be blunt, the girl is a dumbbell. And harsh as that appraisal may seem, it might serve her well to understand that. Continue Reading
As mentioned recently, I have shifted volunteer locations from the Catholic Worker to a senior center a scant 300 yards east. My colleagues at the new place are markedly different. Over at the CW, almost nobody who helps out actually makes a living. Most are dysfunctional and one rung up the ladder from our guests (a lot of the volunteers live rent-free in a bed-bug ridden dorm upstairs).
I am the only volunteer at the senior center. And I don’t mean that in the hood vernacular. Everybody else (mostly women with Masters in Social Work) are paid employees. Right now, they know little about me. And I keep it that way – at least for the moment. One of the women I work with is a good-looking latina MILF. She’s new and took to me immediately – I assume because I knew how to run the joint (from previous days volunteering there many months ago) – and it looked like I could make her job easier. Continue Reading
In a phone conversation with a friend last night, she revealed that her grandson is in the habit of leaving currency he received for Christmas (and too much of it) on top of his bureau – even leaving some on the floor of his room as if it were discarded pieces of paper. I find this curious as I know his father to be cheap while grandma is actually a total spendthrift. Apparently at least in this case, nurture has trumped nature. The example his easy-come easy-go grandparent has displayed is what’s stuck.
In my case, I was raised by a parent who simply could never live within her means. My father used to derisively refer to mom (after the divorce) as “piss elegant.” (How ugly is that?) Her blue-collar caretaker (at the end of her life) confided in me “I don’t know what it is about your mother. She just has to be high society.” Both observations were right on. Just the latter is a little gentler. Continue Reading
On January 1st of the new year, the minimum wage was raised in 18 states. The $1.50 an hour compensation I received for lugging beach chairs 50 years ago has risen to $13 an hour. Are the beneficiaries of the raise worth it? I’m not an expert on the subject. But I will give you some anecdotal material to ponder.
I have a K Mart in my neighborhood where I will often pick up stuff at the service desk I order online. Said desk is (judging by their performance) manned by minimum wage workers. So just yesterday, I hiked over to the store to pick up my order and was received by a not-too-swift black woman of maybe 50 or 60 years. Continue Reading
Come Christmastime (at least this year), my email and snail mail boxes received some interesting discounts. Two worked out beautifully (Shutterfly and CVS 50% off photos), but one was so bad I just have to dedicate a post today to warn my brothers and sisters against falling for the hype as did I.
The hustler’s name is INSTACART, a corporation that partners with big food chains and supermarkets to deliver the groceries you want at a reasonable price. This past Thanksgiving they sent $25 coupons on a $35 purchase to every mailbox in the East Village (and probably all over the metropolitan area as well). Continue Reading
Ok! I get it. Network news women aren’t supposed to be boner-inducing. But wait a minute! Yes, they are – in some cases. After all, boners make the world go ’round. Recent events in the sexual harassment realm confirm that!
So if network news women – and most women who appear on tv news – are supposed to be boner-inducing, why are they almost uniformly so unappealing? Exactly who in personnel is making these decisions?
The single most erection-withering woman in news has to be DANA TYLER, CBS’s long time New York 6 PM anchor. I literally cringe every time I see her. In fact, she’s so nausea-inducing that I think I’d rather watch that Cars For Kids commercial – though they’re kind of a photo-finish in the shudder category (sorry, couldn’t resist). Continue Reading
For some Yanks from up North, country music is an acquired taste they never acquire. I for one liked country before I even knew what I was listening to. But the following isn’t designed for guys like me. It’s for those unfortunates who just don’t understand the genre’s value. This should convince any hot-blooded hetero to reconsider. You be the judge.
Love and physical attraction have neither rhyme nor reason. If years of experience have taught me one lesson, there it is! And nothing could be more in evidence within my social world.
Down at the Catholic Worker (where I’m about to exit in favor of the senior center around the corner), the love mess is in full effect. A sort of cute little fire hydrant of a muslim girl and an old, rude asshole have fallen head over heels for each other. He’s almost twice her age and clearly a huge loser. The house does have a couple of residents who are much better-looking, much younger, and much friendlier than her object of affection. The union makes absolutely no sense on paper. Yet, there it is. Nobody can figure out why. Continue Reading
Like most millennial personalities (ha ha), I have multiple email accounts. Why would a geezer like yours truly even bother? Well, hopefully, at least one hasn’t been hacked by someone I’d rather wasn’t reading my correspondence.
Digression: A couple of years back, Time Warner sent me a letter to the effect that my email account might have been hacked. Ya think? Let me give y’all a hint. It was hacked – and I know who hacked it, you dumbasses! Given the tone of your communication, it occurs to me that they might not have had a warrant. News flash for Time Warner: your firewall sucks! For a second I thought it might be profitable to sue the big behemoth. But at $525/hour to even consider the matter with my legal stud, I reconsidered.
Ok! Back to “lust makes the world go round.” So like all the other millennials, I arrange for different junk mail to go to the different accounts. Ya know…kind of sorting out the excrement so I know which account has the dog crap…which has the horse shit and so on. You get the idea. Continue Reading
Years ago when the Village Voice was the big deal in adult advertising, the paper had an ever-morphing policy as to how much the advertisers could and could not display in their ads. (Bear in mind that any 5 year old could wander to a street corner and pull the publication out of a red box free-of-charge to look at the pictures.) And of course, no bare breasts were allowed!
But a lot of the photos submitted to the Voice’s #1 advertising agency/supplier of adult ads and revenue (Somad) were bare-breasted! What to do! Drawing bras with a pen on the actual hard copy of the picture was one way. And painting or drawing a bra on the scan of the photo in photoshop was another I know I used! Continue Reading
The other day while “fine-dining” at the Catholic Worker, one of the volunteers who hails from the Finger Lakes region began talking about Rochester and Syracuse whereupon I informed him that in fact, I’d been to both and was quite familiar with the two cities.
Jack was curious as to how I’d come to be so well-acquainted with the locations and he got his answer: Road gigs in a show band. Piqued with interest, he went on to ask if I’d ever played with anybody he’d heard of. So I ran a partial laundry list which would probably impress any music fan aged 50 or so. It turns out Jack recognized none of the names. But the older volunteers certainly did. Continue Reading
Come the end of every year, I often ponder the events of the past 12 months in relation to my life as a whole. Have I pro – or regressed in effect. The year 2017 mostly saw me treading water. The little money I earned managed to cover my expenses. All that banking I used to do is but a distant memory. On the social front, I had no girlfriend when the year began. Nor do I have one now (don’t feel sad for me – I don’t necessarily want one). I could go on but allow me to get to the point. Continue Reading
Of all the terminal diseases you wouldn’t want to have, ALS is way up the list. One day you’re fine and then the next, something’s weird. And so it was with one of my old high school buddies with whom I reunite yearly. Fine one year…and then with a cane the next.
Victims of the dreaded affliction descend into total paralysis quickly. And usually, they die within a couple of years. Eddie lasted for quite a while. Maybe 5 or 6 years, thanks to wonderful health care and an amazingly devoted wife and family. Once he was completely bed-ridden, we’d take the LIRR out to the old town and party as Ed lay motionless with only his eyes left to communicate his approval. We acted like Ed was fine until that moment we left, when each would have his personal communion with the old boy. Continue Reading
Back in my musical days, guys who sight-read charts laid out for them by arrangers had two basic rules: First, when in doubt – lay the fuck out. And second, don’t try to play something you’re not sure you’ll be able to pull off. The idea behind both ensured that you didn’t overreach and end up making a glowing error which was either ducked in the mix or preserved for posterity on vinyl.
Apparently, football is a parallel world. I never made the connection until yesterday when I witnessed not one – but two players reach for a “lick” they couldn’t pull off with the end result that their teams lost both games. And both on prime time tv to the “reachers” ultimate embarrassment. Continue Reading
Forty years after a pop culture phenomenon has long since shone brightly and then fizzled out, few stand the test of time when resurrected. Yet SATURDAY NIGHT FEVER, one of the worst movies ever, is being celebrated as we speak. As you can tell, the phoenix that rose from the disco din is hardly a moment for yours truly. Yet (again) here we are noting this pile of what we used to step in before the pooper scooper law.
For me, JOHN TRAVOLTA had to be the most repulsive film actor ever. Who could find him appealing? Answer: Everybody. Even my cousin June – a Jewish American Princess of the first order who would never have been caught dead dating a greaser in high school. Continue Reading
Like it or not, the truth is that many escorts suffer from a case of raging narcissism. They’re just too sexxxy for themselves. (And insufferable as well!) But then again…some are almost worthy of their self-absorption. They’re that hot! For me, when it comes to escorts, I’d rather adjourn with a full-of-herself beauty than a humble woman I don’t find physically attractive. I mean…that’s the whole idea of the one hour at a time deal. Once the fun is over, you don’t have to lie around pretending you have any interest in what she has to say or what interests her.
OK! Enough of that! I mention this today because last night, I found a photo on an Internet ad that is so narcissistic it almost strikes me as high art! It’s just the ultimate! Check it out! I don’t think she needs a man (or a woman for that matter). The girl has herself!
There’s a prevailing opinion in (and out) of the escort business which says that all practitioners of the trade are damaged goods. It’s the only rational explanation for the way in which the girls choose to make their living. And mostly, I agree with the stereotype. I think I’ve dealt with enough escorts to be a leading authority on the subject.
Whatever…what I want to talk about today is the inherent double standard implied with this assumption. What about the consumers’ modus operandi is any less damaged than the girls’? And since when did anybody establish that it’s more undignified to sell “it” than it is to buy it? By me…the seesaw sits in limbo – and each side of the equation bears equal weight. The scales of justice need not be calibrated. They’re completely level! I’ll tell y’all a funny story from many years ago which illustrates my point. Continue Reading
Ah yes! It’s the end of the year legal roundup – at least in my world. And that means I field a request from my lawyers that I pay the outstanding bill. I know what you’re thinking: Don’t lawyers get paid a retainer up front so they’re never behind? The answer is yes – until you’ve given them so much fucking money that they cut you a break and once the original 50 k retainer is exhausted, will resort to normal billing. And so it is with yours truly. Continue Reading
I think it’s safe to say that at least by society’s standards, I march to the beat of a different drummer. Late 60’s, no ex-wives or kids, yet not gay? Token honky in numerous all black bands? Cum laude college graduate who drove a cab and/or sold ads to whores for over 30 years? Multi-millionaire who waits to buy stuff on sale and then gets a bunch of it to save a buck? Yup! I’m the odd man out all right. Of that I have little doubt. And so it follows that as a daily volunteer, I’m not exactly like my fellow do-gooders. If I didn’t know that before, I certainly found out yesterday.
Given the average “guest” at the Catholic Worker, you’d expect violent outbursts to be the norm rather than the exception. I mean…there are more than a few mentally ill attendees down at the soup kitchen. But ours is a mellow shithole – often because the volunteers treat the guests like human beings. Which apparently makes us unique in the field…at least according to guys I talk to who come from near and far in search of a decent meal (which mostly we don’t serve) and a little compassion. Continue Reading
On the recommendation of a former client (one of the very few I still speak with), I logged onto Netflix to watch a film titled THE IMMIGRANT. And it was worth the time and effort on three fronts.
The immigrant herself is a Polish girl who lands on Ellis Island and is immediately accosted by a pimp who cruises the territory looking for single women much like modern day dudes work Port Authority. I was not aware that 1920’s New York even hosted that sad reality. But with a little research, I came to discover that indeed, such a circumstance was not fiction. Who’d a thunk? But then again in colonial times, the Battery was a fancy promenade by day – and – a ho stroll at night. Apparently, men’s lust knows no time restraints. So that was the first interesting element for this viewer.
Now to number 2: At the end of the movie, the pimp (who has fallen for the immigrant he turned into his whore) confesses he’s a piece of shit manipulator. This particular climax didn’t meet with the distributor’s approval. And he wanted the ending changed before releasing it to the public. Guess who that distributor was! HARVEY WEINSTEIN! Old Harve didn’t want the male lead to break down and admit his sins. Funny thing about that! Continue Reading
For those unfamiliar, a book titled “THE MILLIONAIRE NEXT DOOR” was a big bestseller back in the ’90’s. While I knew of its existence and the general gist of the text, I had never actually read the book until just recently when one of the old neighborhood boys mentioned that he’s friendly with the author. So I logged onto nypl.org, reserved a copy and started reading today.
The general thrust of the work is to reveal that America’s millionaires are inconspicuous schmucks driving half-assed cars and living in modest housing – and not douchebags in Armani suits who are so busy spending and showing off that in fact, they have no wealth. And of course, in the process of reading I began measuring myself against all those millionaires next door. When it comes to saving versus spending (a crucial factor in becoming a millionaire), I am at the extreme end of the continuum. And I don’t think I have to tell y’all which end. Continue Reading
Throughout the wave of sexual harassment accusations aimed at high and mighty males of influence, I had not once heard a name I knew to be a customer of one of the girls or agencies to whom I sold ads. But that changed just recently when a rap mogul was charged (not legally) with sexual assault by more than one lady from his past.
The guy (who I’ll call Sam) was (and is) a household name among fans of rap and hip hop. Personally, I never bought even one record manufactured by his label – and couldn’t hum one melody (I’m not sure any of his records ever had a melody) or recite one rhyme from any of his hits. Regardless, he is a god in some circles – though hardly that according to one of my independent advertisers who claimed to have Sam as a regular.
Jaime was a busty blonde from north of the border who fancied black men – the scrubbier the better. Given that reality, you would think our heroine would have been starstruck when Sam walked through her door one day at the Best Western (where she worked) and paid her for an hour, more than 59 minutes of which were wasted if sexual intercourse was his goal. For time and again, he returned to pay the fee and then give her what Jaime derisively characterized as two pumps and a squirt. Continue Reading
A decade or more ago, it was commonplace to walk into an Asian place and see the girls watching videos of recent Korean television shows they’d rented from the local Korean video store. In fact, several of these commercial establishments profited from Korean transplants’ desire to see media from back home.
I was amazed by what I was seeing. Granted, American tv is mostly crap. But the Koreans had us smoked. Quiz shows with contestants getting doused by vats of jello when they answered incorrectly? Bubble gum pop tarts preening for the delight of Korean audiences? Check on both. I wondered if Korea had anything like Sixty Minutes or Meet the Press. Or maybe it was just that the girls didn’t give a shit about anything but mindless fluff! And that’s what they rented at the store. Continue Reading
Rarely does a simple NYPD prostitution bust turn deadly – unless the perp jumps out a window and falls to her death in a vain attempt to “beat the rap.” And so it was two days ago, when one (or a group) of New York’s finest put the wood (not literally) to an Asian flatbacker out in Flushing whereupon she hopped out the window in a vain attempt at escaping. Apparently, the girl neglected to take that paratrooper elective while pursuing her degree in Suckology and somehow managed to die jumping out a third story window.
Now that would take some doing. Like you’d have to land on your fucking head – which I’m guessing is exactly what happened. Probably got her foot stuck somewhere along the line (a la John Wilkes Booth) and oops! Actually, this isn’t a funny story at all. Imagine being an immigrant (and very likely an illegal one) in fear of deportation. You could make the same mistake!
Ho’s running from busts is certainly nothing new. Happens all the time as a matter of fact. Does anybody actually get away? Apparently, yes. Three stories on the subject: Continue Reading
“Me so ho-nee” is an expression that the hip hop world has adopted in song a couple of times. But its inception comes from a film called FULL METAL JACKET, directed by Quentin Tarantino’s idol, Stanley Kubrick. If you’ve never seen the original “Me so Ho-nee,” here it is courtesy of You Tube.
Kubrick truly catches the essence of the Vietnam War hooker experience in this scene. I myself did not serve in Vietnam thanks to a high lottery number. But drinking friends from the East Village who were over there told me that the scene was very authentic. Kudos to Kubrick. I don’t know where or how he found this girl for the scene but she’s just too perfect in the role. Too slutty for words. Check it out. Truly classic.
If you read Yahoo News every morning like I do, I’m sure you’re aware of the sorry case of CYNTOIA BROWN – and the celebrity drive to set her free. The fact that the two famous individuals (KIM KARDASHIAN and RIHANNA) are in relationships with men who are either abusers – or simply incredible assholes – would strike me as relevant in this instance.
To enlighten those who missed the news…Cyntoia Brown was a 16 year-old runaway who hooked up with a pimp and began turning tricks under his “management.” Ordered to go out and make some money, Ms. Brown met a guy at the local Sonic restaurant and accepted his invitation to go to his home and have sex for a fee. After experiencing his erratic behavior and seeing that he had firearms in clear view, she shot him dead when he reached for the night table presumably (according to Brown) to retrieve something to harm her. That is more or less the way the situation is portrayed in a moving 2011 documentary dedicated to her plight. And now at least two celebrities want her to be freed after serving 13 years in prison. Continue Reading
No doubt, I’ve mentioned a daily ritual which includes my stepping out to the local Mickey D’s for coffee somewhere around 6 or 7 AM. This morning was especially appealing as the weather was cool, crisp and clear…and almost nobody around owing to the holiday.
Somewhere around 7th Street I saw an Asian lady coming up First Avenue as I headed south. For a second she looked familiar. But I thought nothing about it until she stopped with a surprised look on her face. “Billy-ah!” said she. It was one of a half dozen or so Korean phone girls I counted as real friends way back when. And so we stopped and talked for what must have been 20 minutes. Continue Reading
Allow me to boil the entire human experience down to its essence. People are essentially walkers – or talkers. And unfortunately, most fall into the latter category. I mention this today because just recently, I came to discover that one of my non-assuming fellow volunteers at the Catholic Worker is a supreme walker.
Gregory not only specializes in washing dishes with alarming speed, but also manages to serve coffee and mop floors if there’s but a second’s lull in the almost constant onslaught of dirty bowls and dishes. Now I knew that Gregory works with Doctors Without Borders when he’s not volunteering – visiting all manner of not-so-exotic locations (Sudan, Yemen, Zimbabwe) no tourist would ever go when our hero isn’t manning the mop down at the CW. Continue Reading
As I’ve noted before, the escort rank and file is not a good source for wisdom, philosophy, humor or timeless one-liners. Escorts don’t contemplate their station in the universe or time continuum. They’re mostly hedonists who live in the present. Despite, there have been isolated moments of clarity expressed by one person or another from the community I’d like to share today.
Actually, the first came not from an escort…but from a distributor of pornography who had a warehouse out in Corona. The outfit specialized in S & M and tranny flicks…and the boss had called into Adam As Eve magazine (a tranny contact tabloid) to purchase an ad hoping he might score some mail orders for his movies from the tranny-chasers who bought that publication. And I as one of the ad reps, was dispatched to sell the ad. Continue Reading
I know it’s retarded that I would waste more then 30 seconds on the pursuit I’m about to describe. But given the memory of a girlfriend past, the very activity makes me want to call and hip her to an addiction with which she could only turn out a winner.
I have a membership card to both CVS and Kmart. It’s the kind of deal where they sign you up, track all your spending proclivities, sell it to whomever, and (drum roll) send you special deals and such. And being the parsimonious fuck I am, you know I’m all in like it was a sopping wet entrance on a super curvy member of the fairer sex. Continue Reading
If the South didn’t rise again with the election of DONALD TRUMP, it’s about to have a second chance in the personage of an asshole named ROY MOORE, a US senate-seeking redneck who makes the Donald look positively benign. But Roy Moore isn’t just your average yahoo. He allegedly has a little pedophilia going on as well!
It seems a Washington Post reporter heard a rumor that Moore had a history of dating teenagers when he was a thirty-something year old Alabama Assistant District Attorney. Following the story, diligent reporters’ research left (and leaves) little doubt as to the veracity of the claims. Basically, Moore (a single man) liked to hang at the mall and approach women (or should I say girls) many or all of whom were aged 14 to 18! Continue Reading
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