I had an interesting conversation with an escort recently. And I thought I’d share a little of the insight I gained from our verbal intercourse. The girl was considering raising her price and wanted to know if I thought her business might suffer as a result. What came to mind initially were the old supply and demand curves and elasticity (and inelasticity) of demand I learned as an Economics major. But I knew “professing” that bull shit wouldn’t fly. She’d just look at me as if to say “I ain’t lookin’ for no smart guy/school guy. I want some street wisdom.”
So I took a different route – considering the conservation aspect of the decision. “Let’s say you raised your price…saw 33% fewer guys…but made 10% less than at the lower price. Would you be happy about that?” And her answer was precious: “Well, you know I like the action.” Continue Reading
When it comes to recognizing coming trends and predicting the future, I’m not the sharpest knife in the drawer. But there have been times I peered into my crystal ball and got it right. An here’s one of them:
For the wonderful week I worked at the Village Voice (I quit – the boss was a douchebag), longtime employees were rightfully concerned that the joint was about to close down and they’d all lose their jobs. Being that I was a new employee and already making carloads of cash from my ersatz advertising agency, I didn’t really give a crap. But they did!
Anyway…I predicted that in fact, the paper wouldn’t go away – owing to its longtime cachet as the world’s first and most influential alternative weekly. Somebody with deep pockets who didn’t care that he (or she) might lose money on the deal would eventually buy in just to put ownership of said entity on his resume. And sure enough, in 2015, that’s what happened. Continue Reading
I just finished reading a fluff piece on Yahoo about body language and how to read the signs to see if your date is interested in you or not. Now, I wasn’t born yesterday and I do know how to read the signs. Ya know…simple stuff like whether she inadvertently touches you while conversing. That would indicate she’s interested. Or if she has her arms folded in front of you? That would indicate she’s guarded and more than likely not into you.
So of course after reading the article, I began to analyze the people and situations in my own life. The problem is that when dealing with escorts, body language and its interpretations can get really complicated. A girl may touch you or lean “in” not because she’s actually interested – but more because her job involves acting – and she knows that giving off the standard “come hither” body language will bring you back to spend more money. Thus, even if you understand body language, you have to suss out the truth when dealing with escorts. And sadly, with pay-by-the-hour ladies, you have to assume it’s fake – unless you relish getting sucked in – and relieved of – all your disposable income! Continue Reading
Hanging at the bar after volunteering two Saturdays ago, I found myself supremely bored. The volunteer group – for all their virtue – can tend to be vanilla. Searching for some sort of entertainment, I decided to pose an experiment in the form of a question which I thought at least a few people would answer correctly (silly me).
Pursuant to the coming solar eclipse (which has been in the news), the following is what I asked of my compatriots: “Line up the celestial bodies in a solar eclipse and lunar eclipse.” By me, this is a snap. In a solar eclipse, the moon comes between the sun and the Earth. Hence…sun – moon – Earth. In a lunar eclipse, the Earth comes between the sun and moon. Hence…sun – Earth – moon. Continue Reading
It should come as a shock to nobody that all the reality shows we watch on the boob tube aren’t entirely realistic. And that would be putting it mildly. The bull shit is so staged by the reality whores who produce this crap that it can almost be laughable. Like just for example…many years ago one of my fellow Grand Jurors told me during recess that he worked on “ICE ROAD TRUCKERS,” and actually took part in staging an accident. The show was becoming something of a sleeping pill and in the absence of any drama, the network had to do something to liven it up…all of which brings to mind my experience with “TAXICAB CONFESSIONS,” yet another dog and pony show produced for the entertainment of the totally naive.
As promised two days ago after writing TOP 7 REASONS TO BECOME AN ESCORT, I will now feature the yang of that yin (or vice versa – not sure) with today’s TOP 7 REASONS TO NOT BECOME AN ESCORT. Yes, everything I wrote in the last entry had a “true that” component. But as I mentioned, there’s always a price to pay when you sell your soul and so…here goes with all the negatives to making the big bucks, meeting lots of guys, and getting tons of sex. Continue Reading
While it’s true that escorting ranks as one of society’s least dignified professions, the work actually does come with some incredible perks – that is – once you get by all the stigmatization. Thus, if you’re an offbeat, antisocial sort who really doesn’t give a crap what squares think, selling ass clearly has its upside. Pursuant to that thought, I now present the TOP 7 REASONS TO BECOME AN ESCORT:Continue Reading
Of all places and all people where and from whom I might find my next bikin’ & hikin’ adventure, it was a nun down at the Catholic Worker who hipped me to INWOOD HILL PARK, located at the northern tip of Manhattan Island. And so yesterday (Sunday), when I awakened to a cool crisp day, it seemed appropriate to take her advice and do a little exploring.
Now I’ve been up the Hudson River Greenway and am well aware the entire route is complete and without interruption (unlike the East Side – see last week’s entry). For a city ride, it’s about as bucolic as it gets. But I’d only been past 179th Street and the old GWB lighthouse a few times. The hill from that juncture up to Washington Heights is prohibitive. I’ll put it to y’all this way: With my Cannondale, I could just about make it up without dismounting. But my current ride (a heavy but comfortable Fuji hybrid)? There was no way. I had to walk the last part. Continue Reading
Many years ago, my own mother offered that my life ambition was to never have to get up in the morning. Given that I’m generally up and out nowadays at 6:30 (even if it’s just to get some coffee at Mickey D’s), her observation seems kind of harsh. But in fact, she wasn’t all that far off…as my real life ambition was (and is) to never have to wear a suit (and tie – especially).
Here’s an interesting question for y’all: Who the fuck invented the suit and tie? I’d imagine he rates just a notch below Adolph Hitler on history’s most notorious list. I am happy to say I own exactly one suit. If I were a man of my convictions, I’d own exactly no suits. But alas, back in 2001 when my nephew got married, I knew I couldn’t show up in blue jeans and a hoodie.
So on a hot August Wednesday in the middle of picking up Village Voice and New York Press deadline money, I mozied over to Men’s Whorehouse…excuse me…Men’s Warehouse and dropped a whopping $200 for a presentable suit. When I yanked what was probably in the neighborhood of 5 k out of my pocket, the salesman went crazy trying to sell me shoes, a shirt, and pretty much the entire inventory. Boy did he have the wrong guy! It was all I could do to not ask for a rebate when 4 days later, I went back to get the altered suit and discovered that my $200 garment was now on sale for $170! Continue Reading
Two distinct news stories caught my eye today simply because they’re integrally associated with my current or previous lives. In the first, KIDD CREOLE of GRANDMASTER FLASH fame has been arrested for the murder of a homeless man. Now 57, Creole apparently had some sort of run-in with a 55 year-old second degree sex offender without a home and stabbed him multiple times whereupon the victim bled out and died on a street corner after stumbling off from the attack. If the theme of Grandmaster Flash’s huge hit “THE MESSAGE” was to turn the other cheek, clearly Creole wasn’t taking his own advice. Or you might invoke and change slightly the question posed by MC LYTE all those years ago when she queried “Whathca got a knife for?”
Carrying a knife around New York City might be considered a good idea by some on society’s fringe. But obviously, if Creole wasn’t carrying a knife, he wouldn’t currently be accused of second degree murder. I recall a really low-grade client years ago who disappeared for weeks only to call one day to let me know he was back. Asked why he’d disappeared, Chino responded that he’d been involved in an altercation outside a strip joint and stabbed a guy – which landed him on Rikers Island. I continued….”Why were you carrying a knife?” His response: “I’m Puerto Rican.” Draw your own inference. I hope that wasn’t Creole’s excuse. Continue Reading
I know I occasionally snap on the girls for being irresponsible, sloppy or unappreciative. But there are an equal number of times when I’ll be their advocate as well. Take the issue of what a girl is willing to do in the room with a stranger. That’s a woman’s choice if you ask me! The “our body ourselves” feminist motto is one with which I’m in total agreement.
First and most obvious and at its inception, the credo addresses a woman’s right to terminate an unwanted pregnancy. But today I expand the concept to include an escort’s right to do what she wants – and conversely refusing to do what she she doesn’t want to do – with her customers. (It’s her body and she has the right to do only what feels comfortable with – and nothing more.) After all, it’s an accepted reality that escort work carries very little dignity…and as undignified as the work is (though it can be very profitable), it’s my opinion that a girl should be able to establish her parameters with a customer without having to answer for it on some review board or other. Continue Reading
As we all know, the term “reality show” is already an oxymoron. Like…who in his right mind would believe that crap isn’t completely staged? Well anyway…in the course of doing nothing all day, I happened up on a Backpage ad run by a girl I’d spoken to before. With nothing else to do, I dialed her up to work some sort of magic. And during our meandering verbal intercourse, the subject of the Dennis Hof’s House of Horticulture (aka the Moonlight Bunny Ranch) came up. Without any provocation on my part, she began to tell the story of her employment at the Nevada oasis a few years back. And trust me…it wasn’t pretty…and absolutely nothing like what you see on HBO. Continue Reading
Years ago when the Village Voice and New York Press were king, I actually did a substantial amount of bike riding. On nice summer days, I’d pedal to 42nd Street…get on the subway with the bike in tow to ride out to 82nd and Roosevelt…and then proceed to hump the two-wheeler around Jackson Heights…then out to Forest Hills…sometimes Flushing…close to La Guardia…over to Astoria…and then all the way back to 10th Street in Manhattan. Just another deadline Wednesday rounding up cash for the papers. Well…those days are way in the rear view mirror. But that doesn’t mean I can’t still cut the mustard.
So yesterday…it being so beautiful…I decided to revisit my glory days and wear some tread off the tires. I’ve already done Staten (not a huge ride) and the West Side Greenway to the GWB this summer. So I decided Randall’s Island would be appropriate. Poor idea as it turned out. Continue Reading
Every so often – especially when a girl seeks my advice on something or other – I’ll think about how I’d operate as an escort. Like…would I work for an owner? Or rent a room…run some ads…and go independent? And who would I accept as a client? Anybody with the toll? Or would I discriminate? And what about a boyfriend? Could I lie 1000 times a day – or simply realize that if I were to work as an escort, having a mate would be out of the question?
While I slaved for an owner in my cab-driving days (and never even considered owning my own taxi), I wouldn’t go that way as an escort. And for one very good reason. Girls who work for an owner can’t turn down a customer. That wouldn’t be me at all! I’ve listened in on phone conversations (girls have held the phone to my ear so I could hear) and I can tell right away which guy is going to be respectful and which is a slob I wouldn’t go near for all the money in the world. When I sold ads for this blog, I didn’t take everybody’s money. And it would be the same if I were an escort. Continue Reading
Nowadays when people think of footprints, they think of carbon footprints – and how much pollution any one person or entity contributes to mankind’s eventual demise. But lately when I think footprints, I think about the person living next door to me. And it ain’t about their contribution or lack of same ecologically. It’s about how light or heavy that footprint is.
I’ve probably had 10 different neighbors living across a flimsy plasterboard wall from me over the years. I heard tone-deaf Nat bellowing along with Stevie Wonder. I heard Melvin snoring…and Jerry’s thunderous, earthquake-like gait. But three neighbors ago, I got lucky: a nice, quiet white bread girl moved next door. While her quietness was paramount in my mind, one of the IRS agents who interrogated me in the hallway got a quick crush on her as she stepped over us casting a suspicious eye on the proceedings (as in why are these official-looking guys with pad, pen and paper – and my neighbor – sitting on the floor in the hallway at 9 AM)? Continue Reading
For a “senior,” I actually embrace a lot of the new stuff my grandparents probably wouldn’t have. But reality tv – and especially the Kardashians – don’t make the list. Consider this: The entire family mythology began when the paternal Kardashian (a lawyer named Rob) successfully defended a murderer – actually getting him off for a crime his client clearly committed.
I know that every defendant is entitled to legal representation. But that doesn’t mean a lawyer can’t reject a client (unless he signs on as a public defender). It’s not like they’re cab drivers who by law must pick up every fare (unless they’re intoxicated) who waves at them. So by me, Rob (and Johnny) were whores. They knew their guy did it – but they took the big paycheck regardless. Anybody notice that they both died before their time? No, I don’t think their early demises had anything to do with their defending a murderer. But some people might. Continue Reading
Every so often I have a moment of inspiration and yesterday was one of them. Here it is: synth bass, trap kit, two pianos, fake trumpets and some sort of sound effect/keyboard part and a couple of guitars. It’s a work in progress. And no pre-programmed loops. Everything is original.
As noted previously, I used to get a kick out of the tranny vernacular when I sold ads in that subculture. I mean…to call women “fish” was just so rude and to the point. “You better work, showgirl,” was another that tickled my funny bone. Didn’t matter how “passable” or attractive a “girl” was, you were a chick with a dick? You were by definition…a “showgirl.”
Another word I found entertaining was “spookable,” a term which defined just how hidden a “girl’s” original gender was at a venue where she was trying to pass as born female. Believe it or not, the pursuit of unspookability is high art in the transgendered world. Trannies don’t want a gay boyfriend. They prefer straight guys and as a result, like to go out on the town…attract a “straight” man…and then “turn” him. Meaning, he gets so hot and horny for the “girl” that the moment of revelation becomes irrelevant. As in…”You got a dick? Whatever! Let’s get it on!” Generally, the activity begins with a blow job. And if the tranny is lucky, she can get him to progress. Continue Reading
The other day I ran into the same girl who’d called me “white boy” during a pretend robbery (see entry a few weeks back)…only to have her greet me with the old “What’s up, my n—ah?” (Apparently, my complexion must have appeared darker that day.) She went on: “I heard you datin’ that girl from the party. I didn’t know you liked squares.”
Well, it turns out that the girl from the party actually isn’t a square (or wasn’t) after all. And because I’m friendly with her cousin who already told me she used to sell ass – and she doesn’t want me to know about it (and she smokes cigarettes) – I passed. Whores are good at chicanery. I’m not! But that’s not what today’s entry is about.
Getting called the dreaded “n” word affected me not. Funny thing about that. When a black person calls a white friend n—ah…this is the ultimate compliment. The other way around? Not so much! Continue Reading
On any given night thirty years ago, if you didn’t see me driving a cab, you’d find me at either of two infamous local dives THE VILLAGE IDIOT or DOWNTOWN BEIRUT…drinking, mingling, and of course…trying to get laid. Granted, it was a meaningless existence but as they say…it was what it was. I make no excuses.
So one night at closing time, I invited a party of three guys and two girls back to my crib. I know…not that bright. But one of the ladies had my attention. You know the rest. Now all types of societal misfits hung out at either of those bars…especially at Beirut which was a punk rock pit that attracted alternative individuals some of whom were dommes and lap dancers. I can’t remember how I knew…but the girl I wanted was a lap dancer. Continue Reading
Like with musical recordings, you never quite know which film will be a hit – and which will flop. Remember “Waterworld,” Kevin Costner’s blockbuster? Huge bomb. Or “Smokey and the Bandit?” Incredible low-budget piece of crap yet a monster hit.
So last night while perusing the new Netflix additions, I found something called “SEX DOLL,” yet another expose about prostitutes. At this point, I don’t think there are any layers to peal back when it comes to the world’s most fascinating (yawn) profession. And if there are, this almost straight-to-Netflix lead balloon surely didn’t reveal any. But that doesn’t mean the film is without merit.
Who hasn’t heard of the good old “ten scale?” Just about nobody…that’s who. You go to the pain doctor and what does he ask? “Rate your pain on a scale of ten.” You’re with the frat boys…or boys in the office…or boys anywhere for that matter. You’re describing your new girlfriend. What’s the question the other guys ask concerning her attractiveness? I don’t even have to say. We all know.
I’m way too evolved to rate women on the ten scale (yeah, right) but regardless, just recently I was pondering the pros and cons (mostly pros) of two women I consider blessed. Which in this context means they look pretty good and know their way around a man’s body. (Mental acuity is secondary – fortunately, for one of them.) So anyway, after the obvious stuff (strategic body parts), I arrived at a factor I’d never before quantified. And that was the “stink factor.” Continue Reading
As y’all know, I’m a big fan of wide open spaces – which leaves me shit out of luck given where I live. Still, if I can’t get to the country, there are a couple of places I can go in the metropolitan area that almost feel like being in the country. And one of those places (actually two) are in Staten Island. Yesterday (what with being a beautiful day), I decided a ride on the boat to IKEA would be fun. But when I got there, the length of the line was just too prohibitive…so I mozied south to the ferry where you never get turned away and asked to wait for the next ride.
My newest bucolic spot is almost under (but not quite) the Verrazano Bridge where there’s some sort of military installation, a scenic lookout, and a little road which goes into a forest. My routine is to score a 24 oz can of Keystone Ice, ride to the forest, and sit my ass down for 30 minutes or so as I fantasize I’m someplace that’s real country. Continue Reading
That milquetoast slab of meat AL GORE is at it again. He has yet another movie about the environment (snore) coming out in August and was featured on CBS Sunday Morning just a few hours ago. When are all these doomsday climate change morons gonna get over it? Climate change, my ass. As if!
I’m kidding of course. Al Gore will be known as one of the 20th and 21st centuries’ most significant and influential men. Watching him speak this morning, I could only ponder the American electorate’s preposterous decision to vote DUBYA into office rather than the thoughtful and intelligent visionary Al Gore surely is. Continue Reading
So I was taking pictures of a ’round the way escort the other day. And when I use that expression, I mean a regular neighborhood girl with sass and attitude. This particular individual boasted more than her share of physical blessings – but wasn’t model perfect. Legs a little skinny…belly not quite ripped…but a big, natural chest and a phat booty she continued to twerk in the mirror to get herself psyched up for the shoot. All things considered on the “go or no” continuum, she was a definite “go” in my book. At least physically.
Unfortunately, her personality was a little lacking. Which is to say, she was a major diva/pain-in-the-ass. Her dress wasn’t right…her nails weren’t right…the time of the month wasn’t right. You get the idea. All of this phased me not until out came the deal breaker word: the boyfriend. Continue Reading
Many years ago I arrived at a Village Voice advertiser’s apartment to meet with a verbal fusillade describing a customer who had exited just minutes before. To her colleague sitting on the couch, the girl let go: “That fucking asshole was no lawyer. He was a dirty, nasty, disgusting trick!” It didn’t end there as y’all can imagine. Working girls tend to say the same thing ten times before they’re done. I’ll spare you chapters 2 – 10. Once she had more or less exhausted herself, I took the initiative by giving the girls a quick lesson in bull shit detection they could utilize in the future to out the liars. And it went something like this: Continue Reading
I have a confession to make. My bachelor cooking skills are a tad lacking. And that’s being generous. I can’t cook for shit. Except a cheese omelette. That I got down.
Anyway…you’ll recall from a few days ago I bragged about being an excellent mop man, toilet cleaner and dishwasher. And now you can add one more skill to the set I own thanks to volunteering.
It’s always been a personal cause for concern that my Saturday volunteer location (the boss doesn’t want me to mention the name on this dirty blog) boasts tuna salad makers who can turn the lowest of chunk light industrial packets of the species into a delicious tuna salad. Me? I buy Bumble bee solid white – big spender that I am – and somehow, the soup kitchen’s product exceeds mine despite my superior basic ingredient. But I’ve been watching and learning. And yesterday I was put to the test. Continue Reading
Oy! Fucking bugs! And I’m not talking about software or the kind that harass you on a hike. I’m talkin’ the incredibly adaptive critters that hide in your stove and cabinets. Yes, it’s great to have the lowest rent in the building. But along with that comes an apartment that hasn’t been renovated for like…ever! And you know what that means! Roaches inhabit every nook and cranny.
I’ve used the Home Depot Ortho spray. And Combat traps. And Combat gel. And the powder. And the bomb. And even some doo-hickey you plug into a wall socket. All for naught, I’m afraid. The Battle of the Bugs is on, baby! And I’m losing it! Continue Reading
You would think that after losing 65% of your seized assets to the federal government – and then another big chunk to the state and city – that authorities would be satisfied with their take. Dream on brothers and sisters. The nightmare continues.
Normally when people receive a piece of correspondence from the IRS, they have a mild stroke. But for me, a letter from the agency is kind of like a kiss on the cheek versus a full-out GFE session, after what I will now and forevermore call “the visit” – the day two IRS agents knocked on my door to deliver the bad news! So when more than half a year ago, a letter appeared in my mailbox from the feared government arm, I more or less had an eye-rolling moment – and not the coronary most people experience until I saw the bill (727 k). Then I admit to a more visceral reaction. Continue Reading
I always wondered whether all the “intellectuals” who bought Playboy Magazine “for the articles” would still buy the rag if the cheesecake were deleted. Well, I don’t know what those numbers would be…but I do know 5 weeks after all the local girls were deleted from the sidebar of this blog how many readers have abandoned ship.
One week into the new era, I reported that fully 85% of readers had stayed. But that (to my chagrin) is no longer the case. I have lost roughly two thirds of my audience. Actually, I was hoping to retain half but still, I’m somewhat gratified that at least one in three readers is still with me.
So here’s the question: Now that the blog earns virtually nothing…why would I continue writing something almost every day? I guess the truth is that I’m not a whore after all. I don’t have to be paid to write because I simply like doing it. Hey! I rarely play my guitar for an audience yet I still sit and play every day (though not like I used to). Same thing, basically. Continue Reading
In the never ending quest to fill my waking hours (I sleep a lot) meaningfully, I’ve taken to launching a new project. Getting this enterprise started involved building a new blog which I’m proud to say took all of about an hour and a half. And that includes designing the header! Will the idea take off? Maybe…maybe not. Whatever…it was something to do yesterday.
Many years ago, a cute Amer-Asian girl needed some new photos and pursuant to that desire, asked me “Billy! Are you a photographer – or do you just take pictures?” to which I gave her what I thought was the perfect answer: “I take pictures – but I just might get that money-making shot the pro will miss.”
The state of Korean photography in the escort business is actually quite good. Too good, in fact. What happens is that guys arrive to be disappointed that the advertised photo is of the actual girl…but the actual girl doesn’t look nearly as good as her photo. So what’s the point of producing a photo that’s so good that it almost serves as the old bait and switch? Continue Reading
No, not the kind you see to the right. The kind I feed almost every day. Now calling a homeless person a bum is kind of politically incorrect – especially for a guy who’s supposed to care about their welfare. But I do have my limits…and they were reached yesterday.
Down at the good ol’ Catholic Worker, there are actually 21 upstairs beds occupied by a loose bucket of nuts and bolts (occupants, that is) many of whom are in good enough health to help at mealtime – but many of whom do not! They get free food and lodging and to thank the institution for its magnanimous contribution to the underclass they choose not to reciprocate. Continue Reading
For those unaware, BELL’S PALSY is an idiopathic affliction of the 7th cranial nerve which causes paralysis almost always on just one side of the patient’s face. The resultant droopy lop-sided look is generally not considered attractive. Nobody really knows (that’s why it’s called idiopathic) what causes the malady but strangely, sitting or sleeping directly in front of an air conditioner often triggers the unfortunate circumstance.
I relate this today because just recently I talked with two different women who suffered from the effects of this strange condition. The first was my 87 year-old girlfriend down at the Henry Street Settlement. This woman is as sweet as she is batty. Her spirit is wonderfully young and I just love when out of nowhere she’ll belt out a chorus of “She Loves You” by the Beatles! Last Sunday, I offered to show her some stuff on the computer at which time she told me about her cataracts and Bell’s palsy. Sixty seven ain’t that much fun. Eighty seven is even less – I’m guessing. Continue Reading
I think we can establish that I’m not much of a party animal or a huge drinker. At this point in my life, I mostly volunteer, read, and write. Kind of a snore, I know. But yesterday was Independence Day, the one time of the year we Americans celebrate the doctrine that all white men are created equal. (People of color and women? We’re still working on that. But I digress.) And so I broke with tradition and tied one on among friends.
Believe it or not…I was invited to a big backyard barbecue most of whose attendees are in “the business” (though not all). While I was happy to pedal on over (loner/recluse notwithstanding), it was something of what mom used to call a “command performance.” I missed Memorial Day as I was away…and the hostess made it clear she wanted me to show up for the July 4th fiesta. Continue Reading
Over the past year or so, y’all might have noticed that a few of the A-list Korean girls have seen the light and gone independent. Let me clarify that. They’ve gone independent of the house environment and now work alone in a sort of partnership with another Korean girl who answers the phone and arranges the dates. What’s paramount for the consumer is you and the object of your lifelong lust are alone with neither phone girl, kitchen mommie or other work-in-the-room ladies to misdirect your focus.
I view this as a good thing on balance – and would be even more in favor of the trend were I taking advertising payments from each girl rather than a group at the same price. It would be oh so much more profitable! But alas, I’m out of the business at the request of the authorities who do recognize my first amendment right – as well as their right to recommend that the judge lock me up and throw away the key if I don’t accede to their wishes. Thus…no house ads on the sidebar. Continue Reading
PRESIDENT DONALD TRUMP never fails to demonstrate beyond equivocation what a no class guy he truly is. But the Commander-in-chief just might have outdone himself yesterday after retweeting a 10 year-old but recently edited video which showed the prez taking down a WWE actor with a CNN logo plastered across his face (the recent edit/addition).
What nobody has commented upon (that I read) is that while Trump whines about CNN and its fake news, the video itself is of a fake takedown! Now let’s say the “presentation” featured a CNN employee alleging something along the lines of “Your wife sold ass in New York for $1000 a pop back in the 90’s” and Trump reacted by actually attacking the reporter. I could accept that (even if what the reporter said just might be true) as he was defending his wife’s honor. But clearly, that’s not what this is! Continue Reading
Anybody with an ounce of sense knows that you can’t buy love. You can buy time – and maybe even exclusivity. But love? It just ain’t for sale. Lots of guys fall for the objects of their lust – be they professional, amateur, or somewhere in between (like gold diggers and such). And some are even stupid enough to think that their feelings are being reciprocated.
Not everybody realizes the following reality…but if you really want to know where a guy stands with an escort, here’s the acid test: Examine the flow of money. If the girl is gouging her mark for excessive cash, she feels nothing for him. He’s just an ATM with a hard-on. Conversely, if a pro falls for a man, she’ll take her flatbacking cash and fork it over to the guy! I know this sounds ridiculous but trust me, I’ve seen it time and time again. Continue Reading
Whether in a Holiday Inn band or a multi-million unit-selling mega rock extravaganza, going on the road retains its unpredictability. Like with a cab shift during which anybody takes you anywhere on all manner of adventures, traveling with a musical outfit offers a similar experience.
Laboring as a full-time musician for more than ten years of my life, I certainly had my own. But the two potholes I’d like to talk about today befell others who despite their million-selling success, couldn’t avoid a shake-my-head engagement they could have lived without.
The year was 1998 or 1999 when I heard that two country western acts I really liked (LEANN WOMACK and THE KINLEYS) would be playing between the World Trade Centers Thursday at noon for the Wall Street workaday lunchtime crowd. As a guy who’d been on the road, I had to wonder “who the fuck booked a gig like that?!?! Only a promoter/manager who’d never played on the road himself!” Continue Reading