SECTUAL

Some days, I just thank God for distortion plug-ins.

These honey roasted peanuts are hittin'. HIT-TIN!! *chewing all roguish with his mouth open*

So this was my workout play-loop today...



Aaaaand it got me visualizing a scene - from a movie - that does not exist; yet...


Two young men - mid 20's - walk into a black-owned, black-staffed strip club. 
Before business hours. [The door's just unlocked - come on, play along]


The club owner is seated at a booth halfway between the door and the bar. His large, muscleman
bodyguard sits feet away, across from him, beside a table curling a 50lb bell. The two young men
get a couple feet inside before they are stopped by another bodyguard. He stands in front of them 
while the owner sizes them up.

"McDonald's down the street." he says smiling and pointing.

They smile back and the first young man slips the backpack off from his right shoulder.

"We got some business to throw your way." he says, holding the bag out towards the man.

The bodyguard quickly pulls his weapon and sticks it up to the boy's head.

He nods to his man and allows the two strangers to approach. They stand next to the booth looking
down at a very unhappy club owner.

"Richie said you were cool. And down to make some money." said the backpack-holding boy.

"Get 'em off." demanded the boss.

The weight-lifting man stands and walks over, gun in hand. The two young entrepreneurs take off their
shirts and drop their pants to the knee. 

"Spin." the owner said.

They both turn a couple good circles. Now facing him, he motions with his left index finger to get dressed.

Boy One picks the bag up from the floor and sets it onto the table in front of the club owner.

"Help yourself." he says.

The seated man looks at the bag and then up at the young man.

"First off, who the fuck is Richie?"

"Richie from Cumberland Street. Said you were cousins."

The man smiles, shaking his head.

"You came up in here on the word of a cracked-out, dick-suckin', sell-his-own-momma kinda nigguh
and expect me to take you serious?" 

"Was he wrong?" asked the second young man.

"So, I'm 'sposed to put my prints on this bag and some po-lice bust in here and it's just another dumb
nigguh goin' to jail? That how this plays?" he asked.

The first young man holds his hands up in a peaceful manner and motions towards the bag; reaching down
to unzip and show the contents. The club owner looks inside; seeing what brought them to his fine establishment.

"Oooooh, so you done robbed Pablo!?" he said laughing and clapping.

"It's not stolen. And we can get that to you every week." 

The owner sits staring at them a few seconds.

"Sorry fellas, I shake titties up in here, not coca leaves." he replied.

The second young man steps forward.

"As a sign of respect and good faith, we'll give you this one for half price." he said.

The man looks at both boys, losing his smile and easing back into the booth.

"Can't help ya saltine." 

"You'll move this faster than free pussy. Then we'll be back every week to make you rich." the first young man says.

He glares up at the two very motivated business men standing before him.

"Goddamn. Couple white boys just came in here and flipped all the shit!"

"We gotta deal?" the first young man asks, reaching his hand out.

The owner signals his muscled bodyguard to take the bag from the table. He grabs it and walks to the back.

"This ain't dimebags at the high school gentlemen." he said shaking both their hands.

"Anything even starts to feel funny, they'll never find either one of you." he said in a most serious tone.

"Understood." replied the first young man.

The bodyguard returns from the back, throwing the black & tan backpack at the first guest.

"You wanna count it?" the owner asked with a smirk.

"We're good." said the second young man.

"Aight. Now take ya narrow asses on up outta here." the owner said, nodding towards the door.



They both smile, walk to the door and exit the building Cleveland's newest coke dealers.

Silly musings...

So, you know what insomnia's good for? THIS!

Me and dis broad:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barbara_Stanwyck

https://i.imgur.com/7TZqKZS.png

0% on the "Awareness" and we're still an overall 74% compatible.

Useful information? Is anything I ever post here??


*goes back to thumping pennies across the room*

This was my girlfriend from waaay back!

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Donna_Reed

Man, did I ever have it in for her!! Yowza! *rubs forehead*

And you damn right I ran the numbers!!

https://i.imgur.com/dS1wlWy.png

Again, 0% on the "Awareness" but a 67% overall compatibility.

What is it with these old-timey chicks and the lack of awareness crossover?

*sighs*

I also swooned pretty hard for the on-screen daughter, Mary.

Calm down, I was fifteen!! :P

Speaking of crank calling... lmao

SWIM and a couple buddies of his used to like to do a little "checking in" on folks
back in the late 80's - early 90's. Before that disgusting bitch, caller-ID, showed up. *boo-hiss*

Now, they never scammed anyone or did anything unscrupulous - aside from stealing away 
several minutes of people's free time - but boy did we, ahem, they ever have a time!!  ; )

This next excerpt is based on true events...

The Players:

SWIM
Friend
Lady [on the phone]

Lady: "Hello?"
SWIM: "Hey, is Robert around?"
Lady: "There's no Robert here."
SWIM: "Oh my God, please tell me you're joking!"
Lady: "No I ain't joking. I think you got the wrong number."
SWIM: "Is this..." *recites lady's number*
Lady: "Yes, that's my phone number but there's no Robert here."
SWIM: "Do you know of a way I can get a hold of him?"
Lady: "Son, I don't know anyone named Robert and I can't help you!"
SWIM: "Ma'am please!? I'm at the police station!"
Lady: "What are ya doin' there?"
SWIM: "I got shafted and they're gonna arrest me if Robert can't come down here and straighten this out!"
Lady: "Well looks like you're gettin' arrested cuz there ain't no Robert here."
SWIM: "I just need him to explain the monkey situation and I'm free to go."
Lady: "Monkeys?"
SWIM: "Yes ma'am, monkeys."
Lady: "What kind of monkeys?"
SWIM: "Undoubtedly illegal ones."
Lady: "I don't want no part of that, I'm hangin' up now."
SWIM: "Ma'am please! If you do my entire future is ruined!!" *choking on restrained laughter*
Lady: "Son, if you stole a buncha monkeys then you NEED to be in jail!"
SWIM: "I didn't steal them! Honest to God!"
Lady: "Well you said they were illegal!?"
SWIM: "I knooow, but I didn't know that at the time!"
Lady: "I think you're on drugs."
SWIM: "Ma'am, if you EVER come across ANYONE selling fifty racing pigeons for $200, don't
fall for it! That's at least $1,000 worth of birds!"
Lady: "Monkeys now pigeons??"
SWIM: *covers phone, trying to stifle laughter, shoots gooey snot out of nose*
Friend: *hyperventilating with lulz*
SWIM: "Yes ma'am, and they double-crossed me on the pigeons. That's how I ended up with 
these dang monkeys!"
Lady: "Listen, son, you need to call your parents or a lawyer. I can't help you."
SWIM: "Ma'am, if you could just please have Robert come down - "
Lady: "For the last time, THERE AIN'T NO ROBERT HERE!!"
SWIM: *bursts out laughing*
Friend: *does the same*
Lady: "I KNEEEW this was a prank call, you little bastard!"
SWIM: "Ma'am, I'm sorry. We were just bored and wanted to see if anyone would believe us."
Lady: "Well I nearly did until you started in about damned monkeys!"
SWIM: "Is that what tore it?"
Lady: "I'm missin' my damn Wheel of Fortune!!" *slams phone down*

 

Aaahhh, the good ol' days... lurlz

It wasn't common we'd get a live one - somebody that would play along.
Most of the time they'd either just hang up or threaten to call the police
and THEN hang up. : (

No sense of adventure! OR humor! TV game shows be damned! lol