As with many people in our world, Sunday has become my day of rest. Well, let me clarify. Most every day is a day of rest for me. But Sunday is the one day I don’t volunteer at a soup kitchen. Thus, that day is especially uneventful in Dollar Billville. So when it’s not football season, filling Sunday with meaningful activity can be a challenge.

Yesterday would have been the perfect day for the first hike of the season. But two things put a damper on that. First, who in his right mind would go hiking with the crowds on a Sunday when he could avoid all the people traffic by waiting for a weekday? Answer: not me! And second, I went to a late night party on Saturday and did not emerge until dawn. Hiking was kind of out of the question. Continue Reading

I get that the NY Post isn’t written by intellectuals for intellectuals. And I also understand that they run features designed to sell papers to stay afloat. So it comes as no surprise that the publication ran a long piece (for them) on human trafficking just yesterday.

All things considered, I thought the writers caught the gist of trafficking’s reality. For example, they reported that many girls don’t view themselves as victims. And they even interviewed one who said that a Snoop song was what recruited her. So far so good. But then came that quote of the day: Continue Reading

Well…I finally got to watch the ACM (country music awards) show I’d DVR’d a couple of days ago and I have to take issue with what was voted Song of the Year. In truth, my choice was apparently released two years ago. But for some reason, the powers that be chose to close the show with this tune.

Now don’t get me wrong. As usual, I found some very good songs in the three hour show. Which makes sense given the entire presentation is about showcasing country’s best over the past year so people will go out and buy – and attend concerts. Whatever…this was my winner. It’s called REDNECK LIFE. Check out the hook: Continue Reading

At 7:15 AM this morning, I was once again assaulted by the sounds of jack hammers hammering and angle saws sawing. It’s been literally months (like at least 3 and maybe 4), and the morons who are renovating/restoring the schoolyard are still at it. And like with a soap opera, it doesn’t appear it will ever end. A cursory inspection through my window reveals a huge amount of crushed gravel awaiting some placement or other. Not a good sign!

I know I’ve complained about this previously. So why am I beating a dead horse? Well…this morning as I sat in amazement at how loud the construction truly was…and how fucking long it’s been taking to do what appears to be a relatively simple job, a thought came to mind. Continue Reading

I’m currently reading a book recounting the history of the world-famous club THE IMPROV. And when I came upon an anecdote about an old Catskill comedian named JACKIE VERNON, I just had to stop reading and start writing. Ya see…I saw Jackie on one of my gigs in the mountains and it brought back bittersweet memories from my summer at THE BROWNS HOTEL.

It was a burning hot/melt-your-face mid-July day in 1981 when the call came in. The lounge band at the Browns Hotel needed a replacement for their guitar player who was leaving for what reason I cannot remember (probably boredom). Granted, I felt the gig was a little bit beneath me. In the past year, I’d played behind THE MAIN INGREDIENT and STEPHANIE MILLS. And even though I’d also driven a cab in between to earn back gambling losses, I’d also produced a couple of records which though stiffs, had been released by real labels and critiqued favorably by musicians I looked up to. Continue Reading

It’s official now – and just as I suspected. Backpage founder CARL FERRER, has pled guilty to money laundering and conspiracy to promote prostitution. Two days ago, I mentioned that I’d never met either Lacey or Larkin, the other two big fish in the Backpage takedown. But while admittedly, I was just a bag man for the Voice, it wasn’t like word of Dollar Bill hadn’t reached up to the lofty heights of the executive offices. And in fact, I would have met the boys had it not been for one second tier executive who was happy to flash my work in front of his bosses to impress them – but in no way willing to introduce me to the higher ups. And here’s how that went: Continue Reading

On many occasions in the past, I’ve described my dislike for Florida, a state I have visited way too many times in my life considering how I feel about the place. But when mom, dad, and my brother all moved there – and I worked with several bands which had gigs in the Sunshine State – the reality became unavoidable.

I never quite “got” why anybody would want to live in Florida. It’s hot, flat and beachy. For a guy who likes it cool and mountainous, Florida just ain’t for me! Then I did my income taxes this week and suddenly, I know why jews retire to Florida. Continue Reading

Thanks to a longtime reader, I was made aware of a PORNHUB video which features graphic sex scenes interspersed with hit K-pop videos. Talk about too much time on your hands. Whoever did this actually has professionally edited 15 different commercial music videos to include x-rated viewing. Yikes. Can’t say I’m particularly down with the program. But in watching two or three for but a few seconds, I observed that the Korean studs are not quite the equal of their Afro-American counterparts. Leastwise, not quantity-wise!

Which brings me to a stupid story from many years ago. The phone girl from the old HOT ASIAN called to say the house had a new girl they wanted on my blog. Such calls were common from clients. Whenever a new employee joined the staff, they requested a Page 6 writeup. Maybe three days later, the same girl called to say “Take so-and-so down. She’s gone.” “What happened? I asked in some dismay. “Three days and she tapped out?” “Too many big American dicks. She couldn’t handle it,” came the response. Continue Reading

Several days after the much-publicized raid on its principals, the BACKPAGE indictment has now been posted on the Internet and is available for all interested parties to view. If I had a life I wouldn’t have bothered. But given that I don’t, I did. There are some curious features to the 61 page manifesto.

For starters, the founder (CARL FERRER) is apparently not being charged while 7 others are! Reading through the text, Carl is mentioned dozens of times but referred to as “C.F.” And what that says to me is Carl is cooperating. Funny how having a wife and three daughters – and serving two weeks in County lockup after getting arrested for running the site will do that! Good for Carl! As a lowly bicycle bag man for Village Voice Media, I never met the other principals (Lacey or Larkin). But rumor had it they were rough trade. And from their photos, they certainly look the part. Continue Reading

For the past year or so, I’ve had an on-again off-again tooth ailment. At one point, I actually went to the dentist. But by the time the insurance clearance came through for a root canal procedure, the tooth stopped hurting. Not especially enamored of root canal procedures, I deferred.

But then a week or so ago while I was dining with a friend, the tooth exploded in some severe pain. It was time to go! Of course, it promptly stopped hurting the moment after I made the appointment. But this time, my resolve would remain. And yesterday, I went to the doctor.

Going to the dentist now that I’m 65 is much different than it was from age 30 – 64. In 1980, I was hired to arrange, contract and whatever else a recording project financed by a songwriter/dentist (not necessarily in that order). Joe and I got along famously and he became my doctor from that point on despite the horrible commute to Hackensack where his office is located. It wasn’t so bad. Joe gave me the same discount I gave him for arrangements and such. And I genuinely liked the guy. So I endured. Continue Reading

It’s a funny thing about technology. Sometimes, it can improve your life in new and unexpected ways. Like with a cell phone. We all know about its basic function: On the fly communication with people all over the world. But just recently, I was exonerated by the very device! Not something I expected.

I have a seriously leaky faucet in my kitchen. And when I say “seriously,” I mean it isn’t dripping. It’s running! So I called the new landlord agent and got a girl on the phone who I immediately found suspect. She had already fucked up the Click Pay changeover and never heard of the book “Fire and Fury” (which I’m now reading). Your basic dumbbell if you will – was my impression. Continue Reading

After numerous rumors and endless news stories about the site’s imminent demise, the inevitable finally happened. The US government has shut down BACKPAGE.COM, the country’s premier vehicle for the exchange of play for pay. No doubt law enforcement sees April 6th, 2018 as a red letter day. They’ve been after Backpage for years and have finally prevailed. But scratch the surface and the fed’s logic crumbles.

The recently voted-upon FOSTA legislation (which presumably enabled this takedown) is specifically designed to put the heat on human traffickers which oddly, the three principals of Backpage.com aren’t. But no matter. The feds feel the principals are providing a venue for traffickers. And that’s good enough for them. But what’s really going to happen in the escort game in this brave new world? That’s what “en”quiring minds want to know! Continue Reading

Once upon a time, the New York City Asian escort community boasted some pretty hot girls. Pinky, Ami, Cherry, Nicole, Gucci, Sugar, Yong and the list goes on and on. The houses where they worked were equally appealing. Immaculate spaces featuring bacteria-free table body shampoo rooms and spotless spaces where the action took place abounded. Then in April, 2016 came one of a long list of federal initiatives which finally made a significant dent in the Asian incall scene. The A-list owners were rounded up for deportation. The houses were closed. And the staff scattered. So where did they go?

A curious fact of the April 2016 action included no prosecution of the escorts themselves. It was all about ownership (plus one phone girl who chose to profit from allowing multiple houses to use her name and good credit to obtain leases for more than one location. That slice of greed added to an unfortunate decision to use a court-appointed lawyer landed her in federal lockup for 18 months)! Continue Reading

Ok! I admit that I’m not really an expert on the state of today’s sitcoms as mostly, I don’t watch them. But I have noticed a disturbing trend I could definitely live without. And that’s political commentary in the mostly lame-brained genre. It started with TIM ALLEN in LAST MAN STANDING, a show I binged-watched for Tim who actually is funny, one of the daughters, who was super cute and dizzy, and Tim’s neighbor Larabee, whose droll one-liners worked for me.

But as popular as Allen’s show was, ABC tanked it – supposedly because of all the conservative redneck commentary Allen insisted on wedging into the presentation. And I was with them. All that anti-Obama shit was an out-of-context distraction. Ya know…kind of like me talking about sitcoms on an escort blog (or what was an escort blog). Which brings me to my point. Continue Reading

Yeah, right. Don’t make me laugh. I don’t know about y’all…but just about everything I buy was made somewhere else. Ya know…like a place where people who don’t know the difference between “to” and “too” and “there” and they’re” don’t join a union and earn $50/hour for doing a half-assed job at something or other.

So K Mart had a deal which was about to expire: “Buy $30 in clothing and get $15 off.” In addition, I had some Shopyourway points I’d won on their game site that were drawing to a close as well. It was use it or lose it time so obviously, I chose to use it! “Let’s see,” I said to myself. “I got too many pairs of blue jeans…too many hoodies…too many socks…and plenty of underwear. What’s left? Aha! Baseball caps. I only have about a half dozen of those.” Continue Reading

The other day I walked in on a conversation between two escorts during which one described a budding relationship she’s conducting with a new suitor (my mama’s word). “We’ve gone on five dates and he hasn’t touched me yet. We actually go out and do stuff!” This from a girl who “dates’ strangers several times a day. You get the idea.

In my 20 year stint as an adult advertising guy, I can’t tell you how many times I was asked to blur or block out a girl’s face for her ad. Any wonder why? Can you imagine how a guy who took a girl out five times…spent considerable money and time…and still hadn’t touched the girl would feel if he found out she was selling sex for a living? Devastated I’d imagine if he had feelings for the girl!

If you want to know why escorts tend to be on the schizophrenic side, you got your answer right there. On the one hand, blowing guys within the first minute of meeting and on the other, date after date after date with no contact. Yikes!

Now right there’s an example of the twain never meeting. But actually, it does meet. The boyfriend actually knows what his girlfriend is doing. And how could it be that he accepts the situation? Because he’s a bum without a job. She’s the breadwinner while he sits around doing nothing awaiting the arrival of his girl so she can entertain him with the money she just earned. And ya spell that version of a boyfriend beginning with a capital P! Continue Reading

Sometimes when you go fishing for compliments, your ego gets what it deserves. Take a few nights ago as an example. I was playing my rap opus for somebody I thought was a crossover type. And by that I mean a black girl who would garner approval and hold her own intellectually at an all white gathering of college-educated people.

Well maybe this girl can (or can’t – not really an issue), but her response to my “song” was to play a once-popular (7 million You Tube plays) ho rap I’d never heard before by one MARIAH LYNN, quite possibly the most repulsive woman I’ve ever seen or heard.

Now I get rap – and certainly know its history given I was in the music business when “RAPPER’S DELIGHT” turned the industry on its head 38 years ago. And there have been some recordings in the genre I viewed as creative, inventive, groundbreaking and all that good stuff. Continue Reading

As I know I’ve mentioned before, my windows open up into a backyard, a parking lot, and a schoolyard between 11th and 12th Streets. The sound of children playing and screaming is something I got used to  a long time ago. But just recently – and not for the first time – workmen are renovating/improving that schoolyard. And it’s really starting to wear me out.

The noise begins every weekday at 7 AM. Saws are sawing…jack hammers are hammering…and back ho’s are beeping. This has been going on for almost 2 months and as I look out my window, it doesn’t appear that they’re anywhere near completing the job. Continue Reading

Tonight’s the night! STORMY DANIELS will be featured on 60 MINUTES in an interview with ANDERSON COOPER who I’m guessing will be thinking with his big head during the interrogation as he’s gay and presumably has no interest in Stormy’s assets.

Ya know…Stormy’s been talking about some text messages and other damning materials she’s getting ready to present to the world. All of which makes me wonder if she has a dick pic of Hizzboner! Only time will tell.

In the meantime, here’s a little cam show Stormy gave somebody or other during her illustrious career as a whatever. Enjoy.

I’d feature a link to one of Stormy’s works of art but why bother? It’s not like you have to be an Internet Einstein to find 100 of them!

Now that the KILL BACKPAGE BILL (aka FOSTA) has passed both legislative houses by a wide margin, its passage into law is a foregone conclusion. Already, the initiative boasts its first casualty. The venerable and visionary CRAIGSLIST shut down all its personal categories just yesterday in response to the overwhelming congressional sentiment in favor of the bill.

You might think that the first site to cave under the pressure would be the very site the legislation is aimed at. But you’d be wrong! And there are some valid reasons for that.

When Craig conceived his revolutionary website, he did not envision it as a ho shopping network. It was to be a community bulletin board a small part of which would offer “adult services.”  Continue Reading

Yesterday during a phone conversation with an old female friend, the girl revealed that a mutual acquaintance thinks I don’t like women very much. Predictably, my phone buddy was afraid I’d be offended and didn’t want to reveal exactly whose opinion she was forwarding. Then three seconds later, she broke down and let me know. And that was a good thing because it was not somebody I’d ever had sex with (that might have offended me) but rather, a person who reads this blog on a regular basis.

My response was decidedly not defensive. “I see where she gets that as I’m so critical of escorts in this venue.” So a little clarification on the subject. I don’t hate women – or men. I hate bull shit artists – people who talk more than they walk. Poseurs who are all sizzle and no steak if you will. Escorts tend to be people who talk a lot of smack but rarely deliver in but one realm. And so, I’m often critical of them. That’s not woman hating. That’s bull shit artist hating. Continue Reading

Don’t look now, but there’s a city council bill in the offing which would outlaw smoking tobacco while walking on New York City streets. First, it’s restaurants. Then parks. And now walking down the street? I say the new bill doesn’t go far enough! It’s about time we eliminated tobacco smoke from anywhere somebody who doesn’t smoke tobacco could be subjected to the stink.

I grew up with tobacco smoke. Mom puffed Camels. Dad, cigars. Predictably, I became a smoker at age 8 (albeit surreptitiously). By high school, I was buying packs. By college – cartons. One night in my junior year, I returned to my dorm after attending a class on a zero degree Cleveland night to discover I was out of smokes! Rather than brave the cold, I decided to quit right then. Forty eight years later, I still haven’t relapsed. Continue Reading

At long last, the email arrived. My sky blue (to match my eyes) North Carolina Tar Heels knit cap had arrived at K Mart. When it came to function, this was not a crucial moment. I have at least 6 different knit caps to protect my bald head from winter’s ferocity. But form? I anticipated a wave of female attention to be generated by the flashy headgear. That’s why I “bought” it.

I place the word bought in quotes for a reason. The Tar Heels garment listed for $12 – but had been marked down to $5.84 as the end of winter (though you wouldn’t know it) approaches. With $5 in “free cash” it was effectively an 84 cent purchase. And that 84 cents came out of my Shopyourway points which I won playing internet games. Bottom line: free hat!

So I pick up the joint and clearly, it’s a cheap piece of shit – albeit with an NC logo and a delightful (read gay) color scheme. I joke to the girl behind the counter “Ima need security to get me home. Ya know…to keep the girls away.”  Continue Reading

Just because some young chickadee was impressed by yesterday’s opus doesn’t mean I’m steeped in the new ways. Yes, I can navigate GARAGEBAND and do at home what it used to cost me $3000 to produce in a studio. But I still create a la 1980.

So I played the track for another girl – this one about 50 – but the mother of many children who keep her outlook youthful. She listened intently and then asked “Where you get that drumbeat?” And I got the distinct impression what she wanted to know was from which record did I rip the trap kit.

My answer was “Look here! This ain’t no Betty Crocker cake that comes out of a box with icing out of a can. This shit is homegrown and created from scratch.” Which means I build each element of the track individually – including a high hat track, bass drum, snare and whatever other percussion (in this case claves) – all of which is tapped out on a keyboard. Then I play all the musical instruments one at a time (with the exception of the horns which are played on the keyboard). Continue Reading

How many times have you heard the object of your lust say something like “I could write a book,” or “I could do that way better than that chick” only to do neither. Now imagine me saying “I can write and rap a tune any damn time I want. That dude ain’t all dat!” Well…I would never say anything like that because it’s simply not my style. Experience has taught me to start walking before I do all that talkin’.

I’ve always maintained that rapping is simply not that difficult because the rapper doesn’t need to hit any pitches along the way. Rap is mostly an amelodic genre in the first place. True, you need rhythm. And a certain appealing inflection is helpful. But you can be tone deaf and still rap. Singers don’t have that luxury.  Continue Reading

Pardon the hackneyed old phrase – but an observation therein today. When I first began taking pictures of escorts as part of my job at Action Magazine, the process was markedly different from what it became. Pose the girl…shoot a roll…get it developed at  the 1 hour photo…pick the best shots…and Fedex them down to the home office. Talk about old school!

Twenty years later, I had a digital camera and a working knowledge of photoshop’s liquify tool with which I could gently mold and shape a girl’s body. Not so she was unrecognizable. Just a nip here, a tuck there, and a curve to round out the subject. You get the idea. Back in the Action era, what you saw was what you got. Two decades later, I became a skilled plastic surgeon with a mouse instead of a scalpel. After viewing the improvements, girls’ reactions varied. Continue Reading

Here’s a repeat from at least a decade ago with lots of juicy stuff about cab-driving, bar-hopping and the escorts I found along the way when I wasn’t actually looking for them. Enjoy!

 It might come as a surprise to my three readers, but I wasn’t always in the escort advertising business (though sometimes it feels that way). And I didn’t know any escorts. Regardless, there were a few times I was haphazardly and innocently introduced (and oriented) to the netherworld I find myself navigating today.

Years ago when I was in my twenties, an old high school friend and I would voyage to Soho bars on weekend nights to troll for chicks. Ya know…totally normal stuff for regular dudes tryin’ to get laid. And for a hot minute, I found a good-looking girl from The Upper East Side who took a shine to me – mostly because I was marginally in the music business. I wasn’t really clear on why she liked me – or even who she was as a person. I just knew that the girl looked good enough for some carnal fun. So I went along with the program. Continue Reading

Playing the SHOPYOURWAY online game as a Kmart member brings momentous decisions into my incredibly boring life. The problem is that the points you win (which translate to dollar chit at the store) only last 14 days. It’s all part of a conspiracy to get you down to the store and constantly shopping.

And thus, I’m always seeing “use it or lose it” type messages when I log on, forcing me to shop and moreover – decide what I want that I don’t really need. It’s kind of like Christmas everyday!

Two days ago, I had $5.29 expiring – and an $8 coupon if I spent $20 in “home.” Plus I had over $20 in points accumulated from gaming. Translated, any purchase up to $28 wasn’t going to cost me a dime out of pocket. Continue Reading

Far enough back that my hard-on actually pointed up when I was standing, I formed a partnership with a music studio owner who was interested in me, my songs, and my free band. He’d had a big hit (“We Ain’t Got Nothin’ Yet by the BLUES MAGOOS) and so I bought into the program in exchange for which I got a royalty – and he controlled my life. But that’s not today’s story.

One day, he called me to say there was a local 42nd Street type girl who had a song and a budget – and he wanted to record her with my band. She was a stripper and whatever else and had some money burning a  hole in her pocket. He thought we should help her spend it. Continue Reading

As I’ve mentioned on numerous occasions previously, I hate a faker. You’re a photographer? Let me see a picture you took. A singer? Sing me a song! A writer? Send me an article you wrote.

Today’s two fakers are as different as they could possibly be. One was half of a duo that sold millions of records. And the other a fashion model and er…something else in life.

So I’m watching a PBS special on the life of the EVERLY Brothers, siblings who I happen to think stood out in a sea of not-so-talented doo-woppers at the time. As is the custom, production found a lot of talking heads to spice up the presentation. On comes ART GARFUNKEL, the guy I considered a tag-along in the SIMON AND GARFUNKEL duo given that Simon did the lion’s share of the writing and lead-singing – and all of the guitar-playing. Continue Reading

Houston! We have a problem! Our COMMUNICATIONS DECENCY ACT (of 1996) was a short-sighted piece of legislation which indemnified website owners against prosecution for publishing user-generated third party content. We have to fix that!

Addressing Houston in this metaphoric scenario is the US congress to the electorate. Essentially, they’re saying “We didn’t really understand the Internet in its infancy and passed a flawed bill which as it turned out protects sex trafficking sites the likes of BACKPAGE from prosecution under federal law.” Continue Reading

While I am an American, in many ways I don’t act like the typical citizen who feels his American citizenship entitles him to a life way beyond his means. In fact, when I was making it, I spent very little of the money I made – living with an almost incomprehensible frugality.

Enter PAUL MANAFORT, ex campaign head for the leader of the free world. He is exactly the opposite. Part of the reason he’s so fucked stems from living beyond his means – rather than below. Most people know this dude’s in trouble. But only a few who pay attention know exactly what he’s accused of. So here it is all broken down:

For more than a decade, Manafort derived his income from managing the political career of a pro-Putin Ukranian dictator. The money he earned on this gig was deposited in off shore accounts and not reported on his income tax. Despite, Manafort was not charged with tax fraud but rather, money laundering when he wired hunks of this cash to contractors who were renovating several real estate properties he owned. So regardless of the charge, PM essentially stashed cash overseas and moved the money around so he didn’t have to pay income tax on his earnings.  Continue Reading

What New Yorker of a certain age can forget the old Times Square where multiple venues offered sex shows for a quarter or the chance to grab a handful of breasts through a squeeze-through window for just a buck? Of course, along with all that good stuff came an equal opportunity to get mugged. Regardless, for better or worse (depending on your own personal perception), that Times Square is long gone and only in evidence on an HBO program called “THE DEUCE.” Continue Reading

Even though the Knicks just might be the worst team in the NBA, I still tune in for most of their games because a) I’m bored…b) I’m a fan…and most of all c) I’m a big MIKE BREEN fan. He just might be the best play-by-play guy the sport has ever had. Mike’s chemistry with his  broadcast partner – a clown named WALT FRAZIER (excuse me, Clyde) is remarkable given all the latter’s lame rhymes set to basketball.

But really, I love Clyde. He was a great player, certainly knows the game, and offers up excellent anecdotes from the olden days (or “back in the day,” an expression I don’t like and never use). So a few games ago during their friendly banter, Mike revealed that he’d purchased a box set of the entire series THE WIRE as a gift to Clyde and wanted to know if his friend had begun watching the series. Continue Reading

Even though I haven’t talked about my volunteer activities lately, that doesn’t mean I’ve stopped serving the community. So to bring y’all up to date, I’ve moved on from the Catholic Worker –  and the senior center – for greener pastures in the form of Trinity Church at Avenue B and 9th Street.

I’d actually been planning to check out the church many moons ago but somehow found the CW and settled in there before I had the opportunity to approach the former. Which was unfortunate given that the church doesn’t seem to have any assholes working there – and the food is better and more plentiful.  Continue Reading

I was clicking through some fluff on Yahoo yesterday and came upon a feature enumerating Donald Trump’s previous girlfriends (not wives). To me, the most beautiful was a brunette who the author described as black. Black?!? DJT mounted a black girl?

Then I studied the photo of this stunning woman and could not visually recognize one Afro-American feature on her face. Straight hair, light skin, aquiline nose and lips. She had them all. And I couldn’t help thinking “What part of this chick is black? Her pinky toenail?”

Take MEGHAN MARKLE, adopted English royalty. Like Trump’s former girlfriend, she’s been labeled black as well. And like the aforementioned, you wouldn’t know it unless somebody told you. Finally, DANA TYLER of CBS News. Find me a whiter milquetoast woman and I’ll blow ya. OMG!

In some contexts, being black is cooler than being white. Let’s say a black man is listening to some music and after discovering that the singer is white, he comments “Dude sounds black!” This is the supreme compliment!  Or…your favorite hooker observes “You fuck like a black guy.” Or better yet “You have a dick like a black man!” You get the idea.

I submit that these women are not black. Maybe they’re biracial (actually they are). But to be truly black I’d like to see a certain skin color and some other characteristic features of the race before I hang that esteemed moniker. Being black has a certain cachet and personally, I don’t feel that stomach-turners like Dana Tyler rate. I got ten bucks that says that woman dances like Elaine Benes – and not Beyonce.

Back to Trump and the incredible revelation that he interfaced with a black woman – even if she’s 99.99% white-looking. There are some other remarkable facts about DJT that impress. Like he’s never been accused of beating his women. All right Mr. Trump! You’re a fucking credit to your gender. And while he’s clearly a total hound dog who organized parties so he and his male guests could mingle with only the most gorgeous models on the face of the planet, the dude never got high at those parties. He’s simply not and never was a substance abuser. But having said that, he just might be the most presumptuous and immature president the country has ever had the misfortune to elect. Except, we didn’t elect him. He lost by 3 million votes. But that’s a theme for another post.

Back to the point. Fuck all this bull shit about anybody with an ounce of black blood being called black. They’re not fucking black. That shit is an insult to people who actually are. That’s all I’m sayin’.

Now that the football season is over…and the Knicks and Nets suck…and I don’t really give a crap about baseball…what’s left to do on Sunday? Watch the Olympics? Snore!

I view the American olympic initiative with ambivalence. For a few reasons. First, I know the USOC forwards a scant 6% of its revenue to US athletes. The rest goes for parties and blow jobs…err…excuse me, administration. And second, despite my appreciation for the fortuitous circumstances that led me to be born in a nation of plenty, I have difficulty rooting hard for a country that put me through an endless wringer – and took twice as much of my life savings than I owed them. And…they came through my door with an expired warrant.  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.

I’d like to think I’m above all the bull shit pretense which is inevitably part and parcel of being a human being. And what I mean by that statement is…we don’t just clothe ourselves to keep warm and/or protect our privates. We dress up to attract mates or simply to impress and/or intimidate our rivals. We don’t just drive a dependable vehicle. We select one that will attract the attention of a prospective sex partner. We don’t just cut our hair and beard to keep it out of our eyes and lice-free. It’s all about impressing other human beings. The truth is that I’m as full of shit as the rest of the world. Well maybe not as…but close.  Continue Reading