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Thursday, May 23, 2013
BLISS STEAK HOUSE (my new favorite hangout) has no fixin's bar and doesn't even serve food for that matter. The entree's are more of the carnal variety and as usual, last night boasted a smorgasbord of tasty dishes. When I called over, the boss said they were having a pretty good night. But by the time I watched the ball game and then hoisted a beer or two, the crowd had thinned out and the ratio of boys to girls was astonishing (as in 10 girls to each guy). If only regular clubs were like that!
Anyway, I mingled as babes cracked on me like I was Brad Pitt or something and eventually gravitated to the "smoking lounge," a dark curtained-off tiny area where the girls crack the door and do a little puffing. Sure enough, I found LACY from my last visit and her friend TASHA who Lacy promised was a thunderbolt. Well...she created a storm all right but Lacy is the bomb. Next time up there I'll ask her to marry me. (Yeah, right!) Whatever...there are a lot of girls up there in Chummy's alternative version of Peter Luger's. Somebody for everybody's taste. And remember to e-mail XCHUMMYXNYC@YAHOO.COM to join the club and the mere mention of $ Bill gets you $20 off the honeymoon suite and 2 free drinks.
Moving on down the line, I also visited ASIAN PARADISE yesterday and hung out with SHA SHA for a hot minute. I'm seriously thinking about breaking my fast with Korean women. SHA SHA is just too much fun. Also in attendance was a cute and very Asian-looking girl named TIFFANY, and another lanky number whose name escapes me right now. Plus...the kitchen mommie cooked me up an excellent cheese omelet. What's not to like?
So obviously, after taking an entire day off from the escort scene, I was back at it again yesterday...but not before I finished Dan Rather's book. Boy! That guy got fucked by CBS. But then again...he's probably an insufferable guy they'd had enough of. Still, there's no denying his point. CBS (at least at the time) was more about censoring any news that might put the home conglomerate in jeopardy with the FCC than actually delivering what the people need to know, which in this case was an inconvenient truth: Dubya went AWOL on his Air Force "champagne unit" during the Vietnam War and had the entire desertion episode buried. Dan wanted the world to know but the corporate execs felt differently.
Whatevv...yesterday was a pretty good day. I got my mind and body stimulated. Here's Sha Sha and Tiffany (347-256-7143).
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
I reposted an oldie today because in all honesty, I had nothing to say. For an entire day, not one escort called me and thus...no news. Well...that drought was broken just a few minutes ago by an old friend who isn't normally very funny...but who uncharacteristically made me laugh.
We're both acquainted with a girl who is a total fucking wasteland. She constantly makes claims to righting the ship, but we all know it's total bull shit. A train wreck is a train wreck is a train wreck. I would take pity on her but the shrew is sooo nasty I feel only disdain. So anyway...they share a common friend who likes to party...hardy! And apparently, he doesn't want to see the nasty girl anymore because all she wants to do is snort up his entire stash and then throw the bum out. And so...he has now given her the perfect name. She is henceforth and forevermore known as "The Vacuum Cleaner." Damn! Why didn't I think of that?
That's exactly what this girl is! She snorts coke and makes love orally like a fucking vacuum cleaner. Those two activities virtually define her existence. The latter of course meets with my total approval. But the former leaves her destitute (along with several other addictions).
Whatever...he's figured out she's a horror show and has sworn the girl off with the bon voyage appellation. The fucking Vacuum Cleaner! Too fucking funny.
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
This is a funny story out of nowhere which I related to a friend recently and decided to share today. Thirty or so years ago found me toward the end of my music biz voyage (long since past) and in Selma, Alabama as token honky guitar player in The Main Ingredient. The act had had some big hits just a few years before and we were on the road doing shows in places like Jackson, Mississippi and Montgomery and Selma, Alabama.
When we worked at home (New York), there were some occasional caucasians in the audience (the act had pop hits). But down South? Everybody was black. This didn't present a problem for me or the band. I'd had a lot of issues with crappy white musicians while traveling in whichever band...but with this outfit everybody was "mad cool."
Anyway...there was one person of color who had to be the exception. My roommate on that southern "tour" was a guy named Napoleon, a jet black (skin tone) Philadelphia bass player who had also backed the Ojay's. Napoleon was a funny guy. As soon as we got to the room, he'd set up all his incenses, lotions and colognes in anticipation of the chick he was hopefully gonna fuck that night. And man! That shit smelled as nauseatingly fragrant as the outer office of Screw Magazine when 70 transsexuals showed up every Wednesday to book their ads. It was quite the olfactory orgy up in our room.
Whatever...we had just finished the show in Selma, when I spied Napoleon shmoozing with these two very southern looking girls as I put my guitar in its case. Neither looked that good to me - nor did they appear to be the type that might cotton to a white boy. Well sure enough, Napoleon saunters over and matter-of-factly breaks the news: "Billy I got this girl over here I wanna bring back to the room. I tried to hook you up with her friend but she says she don't do no white boys!"
Napoleon wasn't trying to be a dick or anything like that. He was just being honest and straightforward about the situation. And given that neither of us had any attitude about our respective racial affiliations, it seemed appropriate to tell the truth rather than sugar coat the conundrum.
And so I responded "No problem, homey! I'll hang out with Jill for a while." (background singer) "But don't be all night. I wanna sleep in my own bed." And that was that! I'd been rejected by women because they didn't find me physically attractive...and there were occasions I was either disappointed or offended. But being passed over simply on the basis of my skin color? It actually wasn't a problem at all. The girl was ugly. Black, white, or yellow I wouldn't have fucked her anyway. So who cared?
And that's my heart-warming story for the day. I guess the point is...if you tell me you won't fuck me because I'm unattractive, I might be offended. But if you reject me because I'm a white boy? I guess I don't really give a crap. That's all I'm sayin'.
Monday, May 20, 2013
For anybody who lives in Manhattan, it's clear that the storm cloud is gathering on private internal combustion stinkpots. First, we have bike lanes robbing gasoline-powered vehicles of precious real estate on First, Second and Ninth Avenues. And now...the bike share program is eating up parking spaces of which there are very few to begin with on Manhattan Island. As an avid bicyclist, I want to comment on how I feel about the long-delayed bicycle program. But how to give it context on an escort blog? I came up with the solution.
Patronizing escorts is a share program in and of itself. Think about it. You don't sign on for the long haul or own the girl (as in marriage which can get very expensive). You rent by the hour and dispense with the vehicle once you've arrived at your destination (whatever that destination is). It could be 59th St. and 1st Avenue on the bike...or a physical or emotional release you get from an escort. Not that different! And then there's cabs, too. You can own one (a commitment and marriage of sorts)...or lease one 12 hours at a time. The concept is the same. Do you own - or would you rather rent?
For me...I mostly rent. As a taxi driver, I wasn't down with the 24/7 headache of actually owning the vehicle I drove. And with women? More or less the same deal...at least until I find one worthy of my full-time attention (fat chance of that)!
Now bicycles are a different story. Up until now...there were no options. You either owned a bike - or you didn't. Rentals were not an option. But unlike with escorts and cabs, I opt for ownership rather than renting my two-wheeler. And even if I were on the precipice as we speak...and had to choose whether to rent or own...I'd choose ownership. I just don't see bike-sharing as a viable alternative to owning except for tourists. Too many potholes (so to speak).
First, there's availability. You can't hold the bike for very long - even if you pay the $95 yearly fee! And that means you may or may not be able to find a bike when you need one. Then there's the condition of the beasts. Will maintenance be able to keep up? And finally...the thieves. I'm sure the Mayor thinks he has a foolproof system to foil robbers. But this is New York. There's a scum bag thief every 4 inches...and they'll figure out a way! Wheel robberies should be a snap...just for example. I can't imagine that when the bikes are parked that everything on the unit will be properly safeguarded. Will the parts be encrypted so that they scream "stolen part" when attached to somebody's private bike? Only time will tell on all that.
Whatever...I'll keep my bike. If I drove a cab? Yes, I'd stay shift to shift. And as a horn dog, I stay by the hour. Renting works for me in those two arenas. But bike-sharing (even if my bike were to be stolen tomorrow) wouldn't be part of my reality. On that front at least, I go for ownership.
I'm curious to see if the program will boom or go bust. Other towns? I'd say they got a shot. But here in NYC? I wouldn't bet on its success!
We all know the three rules of real estate. It's about location, location, and location. The first time I was summoned to Fantasia and given the address, I drew a total blank...which was embarrassing as I'd driven a cab for many years.
"OMG! Where the fuck is so-and-so?" I thought to myself! Representing for them was a serious task. I actually wrote directions on this blog more than once hoping to steer guys to the obscure location but secretly, I felt Fantasia had no shot because it was so difficult to find. Eventually, I placed a google map on their ads and that really helped. Finally, the phone girls weren't going crazy trying to tell the guys how to get to the place.
So last week after reporting on the old Fantasia moving uptown, several guys wrote in talking about how much they liked the location of the original Fantasia, and even commented that the smallness and out-of-the-way reality of the situation held its own charm. This is not something I could have ever predicted. Even though I played on this very publicity angle to help the girls get customers, I didn't really believe my own hype. But apparently, the lure of the discreet location, dollar dumplings and cheap Chinese meals really appealed to a lot of guys. Go figure.
You'll also notice that the great majority of KMP's are located smack in Midtown, in the 30's and 40's between madison and 6th. This is a location the owners have decided is premium. I guess the thinking is they want to be close to Penn Station, Grand Central and Port Authority. And it makes sense to me. When the girls set up shop, location, location, location are the first three things they think of.
I used to know a girl who got herself an apartment on 82nd between York and East End Avenues. When I pointed out that she was way off the beaten path...and almost a mile from the nearest subway, she scoffed at the suggestion, citing that her beauty and charm were irresistible...and that the boys would come regardless.
And guess what! They didn't! So much for all her feminine whiles. Nothing worked (adwise) - at least during the day. Now there's a surprise. Location, location location once again. I don't care if your body is made of 24 karat gold. You need to place yourself where the boys are.
Anyway...I have been immersed in making music and have had precious little contact with the escort world in the past few days. As a result, I sat in front of my computer for 30 minutes before I could think of anything to say today that I haven't reported on before. And this is what I came up with. My apologies!
For yet another example of my debatable musical genius click here!
Saturday, May 18, 2013
As you might imagine, I often hear phrases along the lines of "it's slow this week." I'd like to have the proverbial dollar for every time I've heard those words. Anyway...just a couple of days ago, both BLUE ANGEL and SECRET DIARY called to invite me over for lunch...so I could get a gander at the operation. This can often be less an offer of friendship...and more an acknowledgment that having me come over and then write something on the blog is certainly worth what it costs to feed me. But I don't worry about that as both of these parties are my friends.
So as you know, I went to BLUE ANGEL and reported back on the staff and physical plant, but postponed the trip to "SECRET" rather than miss the beginning of the Knick game. Mindful of my promise to visit, I called JOLIE yesterday (the next day) from 50th St. and Queens Boulevard (where I'd ridden to visit a couple of friends in the afternoon) to announce that I would be arriving about 30 minutes later.
"No! I'll be busy," she admonished me. "Come at 7:10!" "7:10?"...I countered. "It's 4 o'clock now!" "I know...but I'll be busy from now until then!"...she informed me matter-of-factly.
So much for "it's slow"...if you're a girl named JOLIE! But really...if a cute, all-natural, English-speaking Korean girl with a wispy little voice isn't busy, then who is? Well...the truth is it has been slow this week. But when it comes to the A-listers, there is rarely a shortage of guys who want to spend time with them. It's the old deal where you go to a bar and 5% of the girls get 95% of the play from the horn dogs. That reality holds true in the escort realm as well.
And now a little clarification. After rereading yesterday's post, I came to realize that I made it sound like the Chinatown Fantasia location had closed. That's not the case. As far as I know, they're still open.
My intention yesterday was not to dog Fantasia downtown. It was simply to let everybody know that the old staff from 6 months ago has moved uptown to a new location. My apologies to the girls in Chinatown.
Anyway...that's enough for today. I'm still in the glow from LACY at BLISS...and wondering how it would have gone with the incredible white girl I had to forego. So much for "Dollar Bill only likes black girls!"
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Well...not exactly. The Chinatown Fantasia still exists. But the old Fantasia crew has relocated to Midtown with essentially...the girls you grew to love under the original ownership! There's OSUCA (aka LUCKY), KITTY, and BEBE - all beamed north to a cozy and very comfortable Midtown spot. I love the way the foyer has this waterfall-style soothing gizmo to put you in the mood. And then of course...you have the girls themselves! Duh! The new place is named BLUE ANGEL NYC (917-615-3281) . Check them out. They're definitely worth a visit.
Moving on...SECRET DIARY (917-531-1867) has a hot new GFE named KELLY awaiting your arrival...and HOT ASIAN (646-841-4167) similarly has a new girl named VIVI!
Additionally, I went to BLISS STEAK HOUSE last night and yo...like wow! There were sooo many hot girls and sooo few guys! I was like a kid in a candy store. LACY became my fiance and the decision was a fortuitous one! Very hot. Actually, there was a white girl with secretary glasses named SUMMER who was really interesting but by the time I returned from a stop I had to make she was gone. That's not to disparage Lacy. She was super hot as well.
Anyway...I had a beer with the bouncers and bartender (who is a totally East Village punk) and talked about obscure movies we love. She wanted to split a cab but alas...I was on my two-wheeler. Anyway, BLISS has a special deal! Just mention Dollar Bill and you get $20 off the room and two free drinks! And what's not to like about that?
That's it for today unless I forgot to do a shout out. Oh yeah! To joint the Bliss party just e-mail firstname.lastname@example.org for admission. Drinks are reasonable and you can look and cook as long as you like for the price of admission ($40)! And man...there are a lot of hot chicks with not very much competition for their attention! 'Nuff said about that! I'm out!
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
After visiting several places yesterday, I have all kinds of relevant info for guys just like in the old days. So here goes with the rounds!
First stop...ATHENA SPA (212-683-4484)...where they told me go to NY HEALTH SPA (212-575-5600) to see the boss. Both are incredible spaces considering the rents in New York. And ATHENA even has cute girls out front as receptionists. Imagine what lies behind closed doors!
So I saw the boss...said "hey" at Bunny Girls and then moved on to ASIAN PARADISE (347-256-7143). Paradise has had a lot of personnel changes recently (like Sha Sha and Cookie weren't there). But Sha Sha will be back on Sunday and Cookie shortly thereafter...and in their stead are two girls named BARBIE and SUNNY both of whom look pretty good. Barbie is kind of tall and lanky...and Sunny has a cute peek-a-boo hair-do. Difficult to report on her body as the girl was in her "jammies" but I understand her pictures will be ready soon!
To LOVELY ASIAN (212-470-0409) where HANA has some new pix. And then off to HOT LIPS (646-309-0453) where I got an eyeful of CLARA, who is young, pretty, new to NY and all natural! Can't beat that!
After a tranny or two not worth mentioning as there are no trannies on this blog, my final stop was at MY ASIAN GFE (646-326-9512) where they have a new girl named ROSE who looks pretty cute!
So there's the commercials for the day. Nothing of literary value unfortunately but hey...you don't get too much of that anyway...especially if you stray from this site to others where you won't find any redeeming social commentary at all! Ya know...like Squackpage...where they fuck their friends and stuff millions in their pockets while their douchebag of a mouthpiece tells the world that their sole mission is to rid the world of pimps and traffickers. What a fucking joke!
Well...I've done my psycho thing (albeit for only a few lines)...and informed my readership...so I think my mission is accomplished! Here's some new photos of the aforementioned goils.
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
I know there are at least a few guys who enjoy reading about stuff that isn't escort-related. But I think we can all agree that sometimes I have to bite the bullet and give the majority what they really want. And that's inside info on da goils.
So pursuant to that agenda, I've opted to cruise my old nemesis Backpage (and Craigslist for that matter) to find real live hotties to recommend. And when I saw NATALIE'S photo on Backpage, I just had to do the research because the ad sooo stood out far above the usual gash.
Whatever...I rang her up and after a while convinced the girl to send me a verification pic. And all I can say is NATALIE is a red hot blasian (Japanese and black) doing outcalls in Manhattan. She is in fact very American and speaks fluent English. So if you're looking for a geisha girl, Natalie is not that. However (as you can see from the photo), she is very good-looking...has a hot body...and is clearly worthy of consideration - especially considering how we understand all too well the state of Asian outcall!
So here's her photo. And if you're a Dollar Bill fan, give her a call. I did not ask for anything in return and fully expect that she will become a sidebar girl in short order once her phone begins to ring with eligible applicants. FYI...her number is 516-238-9708. And whoever is lucky enough to make the call? I'm jealous. She's hot! I can tell just by talking with her on the phone and seeing the verification pic!
Recently, a few readers have made me aware that many of the links to Asian sites on this blog are broken. And when I checked they were absolutely right! Well...I'm happy to announce they are all fixed now. And I feel compelled to offer an explanation for how this all could have happened at once.
The problem started with the "big bust" last year. Most of the "superposters" (as Backpage called them) stampeded for the exits as a result (as did I) and one in the rush was also a guy who built most of the Asian's websites. When the webmaster bowed out of the fray, he took his url's with him (for what reason I don't know) and thus, the girls were forced to find a new guy and a new url to promote themselves.
Not surprisingly, nobody told me about all this so the old links on this blog go (or now went) nowhere! And that's how that all happened. So today, I was faced with the task of updating the mess and I'm happy to report the job is done. If anybody sees any broken links anywhere here, just send an e-mail or make a comment so I can get everything up to speed 100%!
And go check out the girls at GOLDEN ASIAN (646-391-2639). They're hot and ready to entertain! Here they are!
Monday, May 13, 2013
My mama and I don't always get along but on her birthday and Mother's Day, I bury the hatchet and give the old lady a call. Now when I say old lady, I mean it! She'll be 92 next month! So I rang the old girl up and at first, she sounded every day of her advanced age. But within a couple of minutes, she knew who was on the phone and "came to" to talk to sonny boy.
"So how goes it with being 22?"...I cracked wise for the old girl. And the answer? "I can't see...I can't hear...and I can't remember shit!" Pretty funny by me! And then for 52 minutes, we talked...with her remembering virtually everything from me embarrassing her in front of George Barnes (famous old timey guitar player) because I didn't show him the proper respect..to what a son-of-a-bitch my father was relating tale after tale proving her point.
This made me sad. I mean...I know he fucked us over and all but she divorced the guy 55 years ago and he's been dead almost 20 years. I've forgiven him so why can't she? Then mama went into how much she doesn't like her daughter-in-law and before it was over, I felt like I was doing a malignant gossip session with one of my old customers. Brutal! But to my chagrin I realized that my mother will go to her grave hating my father. Talk about wasted energy! Whatever...at least she fired off one good one-liner before descending into obsessive mode. What are ya gonna do?
Moving on...anybody notice that after the "When It Was a Game" post, a commenter added that he was working on a movie and was invited to throw out the first pitch at a Reds/Pirates game? Who gets to throw out the first pitch at a major league baseball game? Not me...that's for sure. And he was "working on a movie?" That sounds likes he's an actor/director!
I'd love to know who it was but of course being everybody's dirty little secret, I will never know. Anyway...if you want to know why I leave the comments section open even though assholes berate me for being old (how low is that?) and whatever else...suddenly, I find out a celebrity is surreptitiously reading my particular brand of dog shit. I'm at once gratified...and disappointed...that this person can never let himself be known - or turn me on to somebody influential - because in the closet (the escort-seeing closet) is where he will no doubt remain. And helping me would put him in jeopardy. Thus, I labor in anonymity. Again...what are ya gonna do? I think I 'll go read a good book!
I pride myself on not having any fake photos on this site. I figure real images - and only real images - will keep guys coming back. But occasionally, one slips through the cracks...and now that she's gone, I can tell her story.
I should have known right at the outset when this girl called recommended by one of the premier bait and switch girls of all time. Regardless, I asked that she send me her pictures to post the ad and what arrived in my e-mail box a few minutes later was a joke!
"Honey! This shit is completely fake. I don't run fake photos on my site. Try again," said I dismayed that the douchebag would think I was stupid enough to buy her bull shit. Ten minutes later a few others arrived that looked more in the ball park. So I called back to say "you sure these are real because the face is blurred and unless you strip for me, I won't know if you're trying to dupe to me again."
"Oh, yes! They're absolutely me. I promise." So I took her at her word and went to her apartment to check it out. From the looks of the woman in clothing, it seemed close enough. Although not 21 anymore, the she looked attractive enough. I asked if her breasts were natural (they kind of looked real in the photos and in her blouse but again...it was difficult to tell) and she swore "oh yes! This is all me as natural as can be!"
Up went the ad and a month later I returned still unsure if her photos were actually real. Nobody had complained in a comment or e-mail so I figured it was ok. Still, as I left, I saw my chance and drew her to me at the door for a hug. And wham...I knew in that instant. The unmistakable feel of fake tits against my chest told the story: This chick is completely full of shit. Not only am I running fake pix...but her tits are fake as well despite any bull shit pleadings to the contrary. When it came time to re-up, I didn't even call. What a fucking asshole! Not only that, there was something really amiss with this girl. And I don't mean she's a 51 card deck. More like 48!
I really hate when girls try to lie to me about their photos. For crissakes...just use your real pictures! Is that too much to ask? And if you look like shit, get a real job and stop hustling naive guys out of their hard-earned cash. Is that too much to ask? Well apparently it is, and even road-tested and douchebag-hardened veterans like me can be hoodwinked occasionally...although when I look back on it, I had my suspicions all along!
Whatever...good riddance to that one. And no, I'm not gonna tell ya who it was but you can rest assured she won't be back anytime soon!
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Well not really...but yesterday in a moment of inspiration, I wrote and recorded a song (or track) in my mac's garage band program. And I named it "I'm a Mellow Fellow." I believe if you click HERE, you'll be able to check it out! Unfortunately, I got so caught up in my artistic pursuit, I have absolutely nothing to say today. I'll let my composition speak for me. And if you actually click, have a little patience. It takes a few seconds to load. Also...there are no guitars. Somehow, I liked the piano part so much that I decided to let it stand for the moment.
Saturday, May 11, 2013
On numerous occasions, I've referred to escorts with whom I've had "special" relationships as "girlfriends." But I generally put the word in quotes because I understand the absurdity of the term (given she is an escort) and don't take the whole deal that seriously. The word "girlfriend" would generally connote exclusivity and thus, I use it for lack of a better word.
But too often, I hear girls talk about their "boyfriends" like they're actually boyfriends - if you get my drift. So to escorts who actually refer to their significant others in this manner, I got a news flash. If you have a boyfriend who knows how you make your living...and doesn't care...he's not really a true boyfriend...and he's clearly not in love with you. No man in love wants his girlfriend to be hanging out with other guys to turn a buck.
I don't know whether to laugh or cry when I hear some queen of denial talking "my boyfriend this" or "my boyfriend that." Honey! Your boyfriend doesn't have a job. He deals drugs to make money and/or he depends on you to pay the bills from your escort work. That sounds more like a word that starts with a "p" than a boyfriend. Oh well! Fast and loose is what most of these girls are. They don't know where they're going...where they came from...nor where they are right now. And maybe that's a good thing. Who am I to judge? Just sayin'. As in...your "boyfriend." Gimme a break!
Moving on...as many negative comments behind yesterday's post as positive ones. What's the big deal? It's not that easy writing something new every fucking day for this blog. Talented and established syndicated columnists only have to throw down a couple of times a week. And you guys expect that my stupid ass is gonna submit a pearl every fucking day? Actually, whatever it was (yesterday's offering)...was reasonably well-written. And that's about all I can hope for.
Anyway...back to today's point. Better to refer to your "boyfriend" as "the guy who I service free-of-charge because I need to feel bonded in some way even if deep down I know he doesn't love me if he knows what I do for a living and doesn't care." I could relate to that.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
...as in...when it was a game somebody could afford to go to. Recently a friend asked me if I saw the Met game that day. Met game? I haven't watched 10 minutes of baseball the entire season. Zero interest...at least until October when I might watch a game if either the Mets or Yankees are involved. But it wasn't always that way for me. As a child, I went to all the ball parks in the Metropolitan area. Yup! I saw the Bums lose a twin bill at Ebbets Field. I watched Jimmie Pearsall run the bases backwards when he hit his 100th career home run at the Polo Grounds. And best of all, I watched Mickey Mantle pinch hit a home run at the original Yankee Stadium when he was drunk!
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
With so many different websites on which to find girls, I figured I'd consolidate the whole scene in one post and then give them a button on top of this blog for future reference. I know I've broached this subject before but never in such an all-encompassing manner. So here goes!
I just finished reading a long ass book all about Christopher Columbus so allow me to share some of the highlights today. Just for example...did you know that Chris sailed to "America" no fewer than 4 different times? Yup! Once wasn't enough. He risked his life on those crappy little sailboats several times!
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Is it Peter Luger's...or Gallagher's...or Smith Wollensky? Not quite! BLISS STEAK HOUSE has the choicest cuts of all! Yup! The former BLISS SANDWICH SHOP and its old owner is back for another incarnation and has now been renamed the BLISS STEAK HOUSE, connoting that the new setup is higher class than the old one. (Actually, the original owner sold to another guy who ran the business into the ground and wants the world to know that he has nothing to do with the current "sandwich shop!" He is now the "steak house!")
To refresh...BLISS offers an interesting alternative to your usual KMP experience. It's kind of like going to a club except that for twenty bucks (after the initial forty at the door), the girls are more than happy to give you a lap dance in a tucked-way lounge kind of area. And if you're a high-roller, a guy can adjourn to the VIP Room as well. I always liked the selection at BLISS personally in that there were a lot of black and Spanish girls as well as caucasian and an occasional Asian, too.
So check out the appetizers...or even go for the entree (talking metaphorically here). There's something for every taste on the menu. Plus, you'll find a reasonably priced bar...music (though not too loud) in the background...and ambient lighting to enhance the mood. And all ya gotta do to joint the party is e-mail email@example.com to become a member. It's that simple.
Here's a sample of the menu at the steak house before I go. Hubba hubba!
Monday, May 6, 2013
So what's the perfect way to spend a sunny spring Sunday? On the golf course? Or maybe a nice bike ride or a jog around Central Park? My last Sunday? I watched basketball most of the afternoon and then headed over to HOT ASIAN for my monthly visit. SUNNY greeted me in her robe with toothbrush in hand and what looked like half a tube of toothpaste overflowing from her mouth. Now I know this sounds sexual...but that wasn't the purpose of my visit. Sunny is an old friend...and that's it.
Anyway...having accomplished my mission, I bid my buddy adieu and descended to see two lads at the door clad in Yankee gear from head to waist. And as I exited holding the door, one stopped and with an amused look on his face, offered "Dollar Bill?" as I walked by. Go figure! Somebody actually reads this dumpsite. Of course, I had to stop and acknowledge my celebrity. Too tickled, he called after his homey who had already entered to say "Hey! I got Dollar Bill out here. Come and meet him!"...whereupon I repeated the meet and greet with the second guy. And within seconds, they'd complimented me - and the site - and then went upstairs...as they had an immediate agenda much more important than bull shitting with me!
I called a friend a few seconds later to do the old "guess what happened" (what can I say? This doesn't occur all that often as I rarely see clients when they enter or exit...and even if I did, I doubt that many would recognize me)...and came to realize as I described the two guys that they'd been to the Yankee game at the Stadium (there was a game on Sunday and it had ended an hour before), and had afterward adjourned to HOT ASIAN for Act Two of the day's entertainment. And that sounds like a pretty good day to me! Of course, by the time they paid both tolls, the Boys of Spring were probably out $400 what with tickets, beer, hot dogs, and then babes. But hey! Ya can't take it with you, right? Or as a wise man once said..."you don't want to be the richest stiff in the cemetery!"
So hats off to the Boys of Spring for knowing how to live life to the fullest and of course, acknowledging my genius! Coincidentally, HOT ASIAN (646-841-4167) just sent me a picture of their newest addition. And here she is:
Sunday, May 5, 2013
High time for an update on the A-list! So here we go!
The phone girls and I like to give the girls a grade as to looks and performance in the room. It's not easy to get an A...but here's a few who have made the grade. Enjoy!
1. GFE LOLA - JONY - 347-595-4518 - Move over J-LO. Lola has your booty - just a little phatter, rounder and more delicious! Plus she's way younger! And what a performer! Yikes!
2. CHERRY - HOT ASIAN - 646-841-4167 - Sleek, elegant and actually in her 20's, CHERRY'S beauty is undeniable. And the fact that she can get emotionally involved with the customers don't hurt! Definitely toward the top of the A-list!
6. JOLIE - SECRET DIARY - 917-531-1867 - A sexxxier girl with the sweetest little voice and almost perfect English you will never find again! Better go see her now! You'll be glad you did!
4. GINIE - BUNNY GIRLS - 347-287-7330 - Super spinner with a great attitude and a funky personality to boot. I love the way she curses in English with that heavy Korean accent. It makes me hot!
6. CHANEL - HOT LIPS NYC - 646-309-0453 - With the perfect tan...the perfect face...the perfect body...and even the perfect attitude...CHANEL just might be my favorite K-girl in New York! During the hurricane, I crashed at HOT LIPS for the better part of 4 days and I never saw CHANEL be anything but cordial, friendly and as always...the picture of class, refinement and beauty! No bull shit. She's a winner from A to Z!
7. KANA - 646-255-3203 - Totally cute independent GFE at a reasonable price. She doesn't like her new hair-do (bangs) but I think they really make all the difference. Not that she wasn't cute before...but they put her on the A-list now!
8. SHA SHA - ASIAN PARADISE - 347-256-7143 - Rapidly becoming a crowd favorite, SHA SHA exemplifies feminine (and medical) perfection from head to toe. Attention to detail has never been so in evidence with an escort as it is with this girl. From nails...to hair...to makeup...to boobage? 100 percent all the way. Rumor has it she's a little crazy but by me, she's always been great! I have nothing but good things to say about SHA SHA!
I have an old friend for whom I used to post Backpage ads. And though I have absolutely no business to transact with her, that doesn't stop the woman from calling a few times a day about anything that crosses her mind as if ours was anything but a business relationship in the first place. Whatever...she rang me up the other day to tell me something positive about the new guy who posts her - and directed me to check the ad out.
So I did just that and found not one...but two phony pictures in her hustle. But worse...the pictures were of different women! Now call me crazy...but if I look at an ad which clearly (at least to my eyes) contains two different bodies...but the ad is specifically for just one girl...I gotta think "now here's a horrible ad that will not work! Just waaaay too fake!" Regardless, according to the woman, her phone was ringing like crazy.
I don't what to say except that clearly, baiting and switching still works - which is why you see so much of it in escort advertising. What are ya gonna do? Some guys just aren't that bright - or experienced, maybe! Who knows?
Moving on...I'm really tired of guys raining on my parade. Just for example...a couple of months back, I reported that some clueless bastard e-mailed me asking about his girlfriend, who he'd discovered was in actuality a pro. And he wanted verification. Feeling compassion for the guy, I let him know in no uncertain terms that what he suspected was true - and if that bothered him, he should move on.
So what did this fucking dick do? Instead of digesting the information and moving on, he threw my info in the girl's face - and now the girl won't even speak to me. In our last conversation, she told me I have to look out for her - and not the guy she had so egregiously hoodwinked - and now refuses to take my calls. Not for one second did she acknowledge her own indiscretion. Now there's a surprise!
So basically...fuck the both of them...the turncoat prick...and his cheating/lying cunt of a "girlfriend"...or whatever you want to call her. Today's lesson? To my readers: Never believe an escort. They lie like rugs! And to myself: Let sleeping dogs lie...especially when it's a moron who's too stupid to realize what he's dating!
Saturday, May 4, 2013
OK! So what do me and The Rolling Stones have to do with an escort blog - unless I found out one of them was seeing a pay for companionship girl? Actually, nothing. There is no context for this entry. I excuse breaking the rule because the guys who give me the most intelligent feedback on this blog uniformly applaud the posts that have nothing to do with escorts. They want to read either taxi crap, autobiographical introspections, or old school music history from a primary source. So here goes with "Me and the Rolling Stones."
How many musicians (or wannabe musicians) can honestly say that The Rolling Stones went to one of their concerts? Not many...but I'm one of them. Hold your horses! It's not exactly as glamorous as it sounds. In fact, it was a disastrous affair I'd rather have played for an audience of no people. And the story goes like this:
Many years ago an old friend of my father's tracked Popsicle down to see what he was up to. And when the old man found out Paul (his name) was contracting for Steven Scott Orchestras, Pop represented, suggesting that his long-lost friend hire me for the next date. This is getting a little "inside baseball" so let me explain.
Steven Scott Orchestras was (and maybe is - I don't know) the premier "club date" booker in the New York area. A club date is exactly what it does not sound like! "Club dates" in this context were weddings or bar mitzvah receptions whose sponsors wanted live music to entertain the guests. It had nothing to do with playing music at an actual club!
Anyway, as a full-time musician hell-bent on eating something more exotic than red beans and rice - and living in a dwelling which didn't require that I share a bathroom with ten immigrants - I used to do this crap to augment my income. The bands were always unrehearsed and the musicians generally brutal. But what can I say? I wasn't fully-employed playing jingles, record dates or the major league stuff to which I aspired, so I played fucking weddings. But it could have been a lot worse. Playing Italian functions was the bomb. Man, did we get fed - and treated with respect! But at the fancy Jewish parties, they used to stuff us in a closet on breaks like we were fucking chamber maids...and feed us nothing!
Back to the subject! So Daddy's friend hired me for some douchey gig out at El Patio in Atlantic Beach, the joint where all the local nouveau riche smarmy swells just had to have their wedding or bar mitzvah. I'd never met or played with any of the musicians and didn't know their repertoire. And I was playing bass and not guitar, which was my first instrument. Clearly, this was not a venue for me to showcase my abilities. But that wasn't the point. The point was to sleepwalk through "the date" and get paid - just like an escort would with a client she doesn't like (aha! context!!)
Whatever (and into the present tense for effect)...I wheel my crap into the joint....get set up...plunk a few notes to make sure everything is good to go...and turn around to face the guests who were beginning to trickle in. And whose eye do I catch? Keith fucking Richards! And right next to him is Ron Wood! What the fuck? So I kind of shake my head in disbelief and exit to the bathroom to take a leak...and the guitar player is inside freaking out with the drummer sputtering "Oh my God. It's The Rolling Stones. I can't play! I can't play!"
And I'm thinking "Just my luck. I'm gonna perform for The Stones with a bunch of Long Island hacks I've never seen before. I'm gonna sound like shit. They're gonna sound like shit. And I wish I had a fucking paper bag. I just wanted to make my hundred fifty bucks and get the fuck out of here without the embarrassment of anybody knowing I've lowered myself to doing this kind of shit work for a living. And look what the fuck happened!"
Well...as you can imagine...we sucked out loud. The core of the band hated me and made it very obvious that they would never be hiring me again. So I hung out with the other add-ons (trumpet and conga player) who also got the outsider treatment. I loved the trumpet player's take on the "core" which condescended to him: "Hey! Blow it out your ass, bitches! I've fucked up gigs for better musicians than you!" Perfect. Couldn't have said it better myself.
And now for the cosmic moment: We're on break and I, the trumpet player and conga guy (who was latino) are sitting around impressing each other with our respective wit when the conga player gets a gander at Keith Richards talking to somebody about 30 feet away. Keith was easily the worst-dressed guest at the function. Particularly, he had a ratty pair of boots for footgear not appropriate for the swell wedding he was attending. But the conga player hadn't gotten the news - and had no idea that this guy was a rock star. And he began railing "look at that fucking guy! What kind of asshole wears shoes like that to a wedding? What's wrong with that mother fucker?" Too absurd. I live for shit like that.
Whatever...I'd like to tell ya that Keith and I got together and wrote a # 1 hit but of course, that wasn't the case. The reality was that I was mostly mortified at being associated with such a horrible presentation, and essentially bolted right after the last note never to play with any of those musicians ever again! Not exactly a moment of glory or my 15 minutes of fame. What are ya gonna do?
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Recently, someone who's a little disappointed with me texted suggesting that I "look in the mirror"...her way of telling me I'm a piece of shit (takes one to know one...a sure case of projection if I ever saw one).
Whatever...last night I was watching "The Millionaire Matchmaker" on the Style Network, and sure enough, found myself spooked with my reflection "in the mirror"...in the personage of a Las Vegas plastic surgeon. The guy was handsome, buffed, intelligent and in my estimation worthy. (Ok! I know that's not me.) But here's where I could relate: Though never stated in the presentation, it was clear to me that his social life consisted of damaged strippers and what not who come to his office. And he'd gone to Patty hoping she could find him a normal girl with whom he could actually fall in love. How interesting to see an MD with my same pathology! We're fishing in the same pond - even if he's a doctor and I'm a blogger!
Recently, I've found a few hotties but alas...none is ready for prime time! I don't care how pretty...or busty...or bootylicious you are. If you're a total can't-get-out-of-your-own-way fucking loser? Dealbreaker! And unfortunately, they're a dime a dozen in the escort rank and file! I and this doctor have the same problem: We're reasonably intelligent guys dating mannequins because they're the people we both deal with in our daily lives.
The fact that the show never addressed this reality (that he's looking for love in all the wrong places) speaks to an issue I don't need to address (ya know...TV is bull shit too often). But what I took away from the hour was that I'd just seen myself in the mirror. Not a pretty sight! I better go get laid quick before I commit suicide!
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Ya know...when I hear about pervy priests fucking around with little boys it makes me sick. I mean...where is God when this happens? I'm sure religious people have an answer for that but whatever...what I want to talk about today is the Principal in New Jersey whose career is on the line because he took a 17 year old female student over his knee and gave her a spanking. Too funny!
Now if he'd slapped her in the face, that would probably be different...unless she called him a sissy faggot or something in which case, he gets a pass by me. But really...you want to fire a guy under whose leadership the school has excelled just because he spanked some brat...and one I'm guessing had it coming? I don't know about that. It's not like he sexually abused her. I mean...come on!
I grew up during an era when it was OK for parents to spank their kids. And trust me...my bare ass caught the belt on several occasions. But mostly, I deserved it. I was an incorrigible little boy and I'm confident that those spankings helped mold me into a decent human being.
After hearing the news, I scanned my past to see if I could remember ever spanking a girl because the brat deserved it. I know I never hit anybody...but maybe of the dozens of girls I've dealt with over the years (especially too many ghetto escorts who sorely deserved a smack on the booty), had I ever administered justice in that fashion?
And ya know what I came up with? A fucking Marvellette. I couldn't stand the bitch. The girl acted like she could sing (which she couldn't) and thought she was the Queen of England hovering high above the band. One day she acted out in the front seat of the drummer's car and on an impulse, I just took her across my knee and spanked the reprobate. And ya know what? Nothing came of it. She took the spanking she deserved like a champion. Of course, we got fired a couple of weeks later but nobody in the band really gave a crap. We hated the agency, manager, the douchebags, and the gig. Sayonara, mother fuckers! Fuck you and your fake shit anyway!
Anyway...I think that Principal should keep his job. So he spanked a douchebag. Big fucking deal. She'll probably grow up to be a better person for it!
Or at least it is when you deal with escorts! Allow me...! Case 1: I've been in contact with a few ex-Jewels girls recently, one of whom I was aware completely threw me under the bus with the boss (when she was working there) for the crime of seeing another girl she didn't like. First of all...you're not my social director, honey! If I see you one time...it doesn't mean I see you every time. And making a concession that I can see other girls subject to your approval is ridiculous.
So anyway...I see the girl I want to see and the shit hits the fan. Escort #1 goes to the boss's boyfriend chronicling every detail of our personal relationship. That part I was aware of at the time and fortunately, it wasn't incriminating...or so I thought...as I only heard some of the story when I thought I'd heard it all! But just recently, one of her ex-friends told me "ya know she went to the boss and told her that you suggested that the girl leave her job and go off with you to start your own agency." Now that is a no-no on sooo many levels! For starters...that could get me in deep shit with the boss if it were true. And second, I would never own an agency. It's so not me! This girl has bowling balls to even suggest I would embark on such a venture.
So I called the boss to ask her the obvious and she replied "yes she did but I didn't believe her." I'm not so sure. The boss and I fell out for a while after that. And check it out! This is the same girl who suggested "let's be friends." Yeah! You're exactly who I need as a friend. It's a mad mad mad world when you deal with escorts all right. Bleccch! At least in this case!
Moving on...y'all remember me talking about some wack job who'd been stalking and threatening me? Well yesterday...with zero provocation from me, as I had not spoken or communicated with this lunatic for over 2 weeks, I got a voice mail from what sounded like a hit man claiming that he is her fiance and that if I ever try to contact her (which I didn't), I would be very sorry adding "I know where you live." Nice! I wonder what would have happened if I'd actually called this psycho. Talk about a mad mad mad world!
It's funny how the door of delusion and denial can swing both ways. Escorts relate tales of guys who obsess over them...thinking that their relationship is anything but a business deal. Well apparently, the shoe can occasionally be on the other foot when an escort thinks that she's something special in a customer's mind. And I say...better to take the interaction at its face value and assume that 99.99% of the time your instincts will be correct. Whatever...all in a day's drama when you have an escort blog.
Moving on...the phone girl at GOLDEN ASIAN (646-391-2639) informs me that TAMI (to the right) will be moving to their oasis starting today. Just an FYI for her many fans.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
One of my favorite escorts is a total road warrior! I don't see her as much as I'd like because the girl is always moving around. One week she'll be in New York, and the next? Who knows? Long Island, Washington, Miami, Hartford? Your guess is as good as mine. It's the old "Have lap top...will travel" deal. She doesn't have to know anybody wherever she goes. It's simply a matter of booking a hotel, flight and upon arrival, opening up her laptop and posting an ad.
Often, girls will travel with a "partner in crime" when they do this. But not CARLITA. She goes it alone! This is very strange for me. I go to the mountains alone. But that's just a day trip. She'll be all alone with nobody to relate to hundreds or thousands of miles away from anybody she knows for days at a time. And not only that...she's doing something dangerous...ya know...meeting up with strangers in a hotel room. No pun intended...but that's gotta be a rough row to hoe!
I received a text message yesterday and it read "I miss you." So I wrote back "Igualmente." And she continued "Muah." That was it. She had a lonely moment and just wanted to connect for a second I guess. Last week before leaving NYC, she asked me what I thought about Las Vegas. Did I think she'd make money? Knowing the girl would be out there all by herself, I suggested she work for HOF. Why risk life and limb in a town you don't know when you can work legally? So I called DENNIS, assured him she was hot, and asked what sort of documentation she needed to work for him.
She had what she needed but did not talk to him again to firm things up before hopping on a plane and flying out! When she got there, the wheels fell off the wagon. Her Eros ad didn't work. Her Backpage ads barely worked... and she couldn't buy a drink at the bar nor work for Dennis because she has an expired drivers license. And she called to report this sorry state of affairs to me yesterday afternoon.
I feel for her. She has two children in school and a mortgage to pay on a house that isn't worth nearly as much as it was when she bought it. And last week (when she was in New York), the woman had difficulty working because her wannabe model daughter was in town and of course, has no idea what mama does to send her to school and keep her in fashion threads. So CARLITA lies like crazy to keep the girl in the dark. I don't know...but this sounds like a fucked up life. By her own admission, she's tired of what she calls "The war in the room."
Escorting is apparently not all fun and games. It can be a harsh grind with lots of potholes along the way. Police, freaks, woman-haters? They all come with the territory. But that's the life of The Road Warrior. One guy at a time Sweet Jesus. Vegas today...Miami tomorrow? And so it goes.