Panic In Detroit?
I just returned from paradise. Paradise aint as glamorous as it’s advertised.
And I doubt that I will return.
I started my adventure
in Miami then cruised the Caribbean. It rained the day we landed in Grand Turk. I understand why Lisa Raye couldn’t deal with that
piece. It’s such a small place that when you fart your
neighbors smell it the moment your ass trumpet makes the announcement. I like
the anonymity a city like Detroit offers me. If I stay out of my favorite watering
holes, I can get my work done, get my freak on and stay under the radar. On a
small sand barge in the Caribbean you ass out.
When we landed in Nassau,
Bahamas I was apprehended by my travel partners before I could work my solo act. We went on a guided tour of the island. I was glad that I went along but at the end I was depressed. The poverty was disheartening. Nassau contains three worlds
rolled into one: the rich, the business class and the natives. The lumpen walk
around like zombies transfixed. The vendors snarl at you as they report the prices
of their goods and take your money with a scowl. Our mullato tour guide-who easily
pockets 200k a year, after bribes and tributes- provided a history of the island and the suffrage of the lumpen against the
evil empires that conquered and pillaged the region in the name of money, fame and bustin a nut. It's a sad history but one that has been repeated in every “civilized” corner of the earth. I am caused to wonder if the natives of any given locale give a fuck? It’s difficult to draw any other conclusion, having seen raw dog poverty everywhere I’ve ventured,
over the years.
Nassau inland reminded
me of Benton Harbor/St Joseph where you drive through stank ghetto, cross a bridge and enter paradise. Only in Nassau,
ghetto is more stank than
anything I’ve ever seen in Michigan, Ohio, Indiana or New York State. Didn’t
really get a chance to visit the hood in Miami but I know it’s there, hot and stanky.
The entire economy is
tourist driven. As a tourista, I was pretty incensed by the look of the island. Except for the water front, the yachts and Fantasy Island, I saw far too many abandoned
cars and too many run down shacks with satellite dishes attached to them. Our
tour guide claimed that all of the inhabitants on the island worked but as we rolled through the hood we saw many a fatazz
piled on couches watching huge flat screens, in the middle of the day. Throughout
the tour, our guide attempted to place a positive spin on every aspect of life on the island, along with his ongoing commentary
about the evil European Empire that enslaved then decimated the local population. The
impoverished environs were hard to ignore. People drive on the wrong side of narrow
streets and wreckless drivers that jut out into traffice seem to put everyone's safety at great risk.
The greatest commodity in the Bahamas appears to be a surplus of fine ass dark chocolate big bootied women. I saw
young woman walking down the street
that was perfectly proportioned from head to toe. Afrodite in charcoal! I tried to get the tour guide to stop and offer her a ride but he refused. I think she was a bit too choklit for his liking. I wanted
to take a few locals home, so I could award them stipends from my Young Girls Fund (see the last page on this site)
but I figured I would not be able to get them past the security on the cruise ship.
And I doubt that they would like the winters in the D. I was informed
later however, that a luxury automobile with a good heater and a real warm coat might make moving from the tropics to Detroit
a workable situation.
While in South Beach, I seemed to
be the only sane kneegrow, riding the buses or dining at the sidewalk bistros. A
Vietnam era burnout approached me at a bus stop, taught me a new hand shake and hit me up for some change, so he could continue
to decimate his liver. I obliged him just because he taught me something. “You know why I shake like this?”
He asked as he gripped my forearm with his right hand. “Cause brothas
hold dey dick with this hand!” As I was boarding the bus he clumsily tried
to pick my back pocket. Alas, the back of his dick infested hand only smacked
into my hard ole ass. I keep my wallet in my front pocket! Up until that encounter, I thought my well washed dick was the cleanest part of my anatomy. On the other hand I honestly cannot vouch for other men, so he may be onto something! As a side note; most American men wipe their ass with the same hand they eat with so grabbin your unwashed
dick is the least of your problems but that’s another blog!
My two week long excursion
had me missing Detroit. Compared to some of the places I’ve been recently,
Detroit is a jewel on the river. I have a sense of proportion in the D. Income, not race, skin tone or ethnic heritage is the equalizer. And historically, the French who landed here some 350 years ago, behaved a tad better than the British
in their quest for global expansion. And we have all that fresh water. The water in Miami tasted like it came from a well that someone had soaked their underpants
If I stayed in Miami, I would eventually get locked up for loosing control and grabbing one of the massive titties
I saw stuffed into a bikini top or I'd get caught rubbing up against some of the biggest asses I’ve seen this side of
a National Geographic magazine. Many of the women in Miami are in a word: incredible. Even the Cougars are exceptional! Living in south Florida I would be forced
to become cunnilingual, I mean bilingual. I watched Spanish TV whenever I
was at the hotel. I managed to pick up a little of the local lingo when I was
cruisin South Beach. And I developed a massive jones for fried plantains!
The island women in the
Caribbean of Afrikan descent make me want to come home, again and again and again and again. In Miami, I wanted to drink
Rum and eat everything that was spicy or spoke with an accent. Hola!
words of the Vietnam Vet reverberated in my brain this week after the president of the Detroit Board of Education resigned
after being put on blast for playing with his dick during a meeting with the current DPS Superintendent who just happens to
be a very attractive woman! She reported that this was not the first time that the DPS President engaged in inappropriate
behavior in her presence(???)! The 55-year-old DPS President-who earlier this year admitted to being functionally illiterate-attributed
his current predicament to a "medical condition"! I cannot think of a medical condition that causes one to unzip one's
pants and massage one's dick in the presence of a business associate. Gross stupidity only comes to mind!
like to play with my dick as well as the next man but I can honestly say that I've never stroked Mister Wiggles during a business
meeting with a female associate. I've had meetings with a few women whom I've hoped would later play with my dick
BUT it never occurred to me to give them a demonstration while conducting business with them. That kind of behavior
is a little too twisted even for a sexually obsessed freak like me!
THE NU METROPOLIS!