April E. Brucker's Blog, page 60
February 26, 2013
Stepping Up My Standup
This past Sunday I did a show. It was one that could have been a disaster because it was Oscar night. However I was pleasantly surprised. Not only was it awesome, but all the comedians brought their game. The energy in the place was electric, and everyone stayed to support everyone else. Yes the place wasnt filled, but it was still fun. I hadn't been onstage in about a month. In between a short film, plus my audiobook, plus mapping my musical, and telegram season getting busy I havent had a moment to breathe.
Not to mention there has been some stuff that has happened in standup with me that was terrible with a shitty club system. I won't go into it. It's like the scene in Death Becomes Her with Goldie Hawn where she is in group therapy during the fat cat lady thing she does where she says, "I would like to talk about Madeline Ashton." And then everyone goes, "NOOOOO!!!!"
Bottom line, I want to step up my standup. I don't know how I am going to do it but I am. Originally I hoped after the shit club system and I fell out that an A list club would scoop me up because of my exposure and the fact people knew me and my puppet children but it didn't happen. Probably because I wasn't a man. "Madeline Ashton.....NOOOOO!!!!"
Anyway, I want to step up my standup and I don't know what is next. I am certainly not going to that shit club system again. There are two other additional clubs I refuse to deal with. I am past the stage where I bring. I have more TV credits than the (male) headliner. I want A Club or no duce. I know I will get there and it has to be soon.
Either way I had a good set Sunday but as always I could do better. I want to write more and I want to step up my game. I don't know how I will, but I will. I think I need to put my ego aside and just humble up. But I have done too much to be treated like crap. Either way, I want to step up my game and I don't know how. I would go to a comedy class but I know more than everyone their and the teachers for the most part. I would have a private writing session with a so called coach but I tried that once and it was an epic failure. I would go to an open mic but I am at the point where I waste my money, get nothing done because everyone cracks inside jokes, and then at least once a mic someone tries to start sit with me because I have been on TV. Sometimes they start with me mid-set. Plus I am much too famous to pay for stage time.
I don't know what is next but I want to step up my standup. I don't know how. Things are complicated right now. I know I have my friends, fans, God, and my puppet children. The answers will present themselves in time I know. I just have to be patient and listen to the universe.
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery GirlAvailable as a paperback on 877-Buy-Book, Amazon.comAvailable as an ebook on Nook and KindleAudiobook available on itunes in Spring 2013Portion of proceeds go to RAINN
Not to mention there has been some stuff that has happened in standup with me that was terrible with a shitty club system. I won't go into it. It's like the scene in Death Becomes Her with Goldie Hawn where she is in group therapy during the fat cat lady thing she does where she says, "I would like to talk about Madeline Ashton." And then everyone goes, "NOOOOO!!!!"
Bottom line, I want to step up my standup. I don't know how I am going to do it but I am. Originally I hoped after the shit club system and I fell out that an A list club would scoop me up because of my exposure and the fact people knew me and my puppet children but it didn't happen. Probably because I wasn't a man. "Madeline Ashton.....NOOOOO!!!!"
Anyway, I want to step up my standup and I don't know what is next. I am certainly not going to that shit club system again. There are two other additional clubs I refuse to deal with. I am past the stage where I bring. I have more TV credits than the (male) headliner. I want A Club or no duce. I know I will get there and it has to be soon.
Either way I had a good set Sunday but as always I could do better. I want to write more and I want to step up my game. I don't know how I will, but I will. I think I need to put my ego aside and just humble up. But I have done too much to be treated like crap. Either way, I want to step up my game and I don't know how. I would go to a comedy class but I know more than everyone their and the teachers for the most part. I would have a private writing session with a so called coach but I tried that once and it was an epic failure. I would go to an open mic but I am at the point where I waste my money, get nothing done because everyone cracks inside jokes, and then at least once a mic someone tries to start sit with me because I have been on TV. Sometimes they start with me mid-set. Plus I am much too famous to pay for stage time.
I don't know what is next but I want to step up my standup. I don't know how. Things are complicated right now. I know I have my friends, fans, God, and my puppet children. The answers will present themselves in time I know. I just have to be patient and listen to the universe.
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery GirlAvailable as a paperback on 877-Buy-Book, Amazon.comAvailable as an ebook on Nook and KindleAudiobook available on itunes in Spring 2013Portion of proceeds go to RAINN
February 25, 2013
Following Your Dreams
Dear Poppy Seed,Maybe you are doing what you always wanted to do with your life, maybe not. Only you know. The truth is, dreams are wonderful in a lot of ways. They keep you going through the day and they keep you entertained at night. In your dreams you can be an astronaut, judge, Native American Tribal Chief. Whatever. And when the alarm sounds you are back to reality. However there are some of you reading, some of you that follow me, that want to make your dreams a reality. That is a wonderful thing. It is also a scary thing too.The beautiful thing about dreams is that everything goes well in dream land. You win the man or woman. You get the gold. You receive the Oscar beating out Daniel Day Lewis or Meryl Streep. You perform alongside Lady Gaga on MTV. And all goes smoothly. But reality isn’t so smooth. The man might turn out to be a liar. The woman might turn out to be crazy. You get heat stroke during training sessions and have a few bad races. You do a hundred auditions and never land a role. You perform a hundred gigs for three people and go home and watch MTV and cry. Reality bites. But here is the thing, with blood, sweat, tears, and determination never to give up dreams come true. In 2010 I was living in a rain storm that didn’t seem to stop. A woman who I lived with that was like a sister lost her mind over a guy and moved out. A crazy dancer moved in and left me in a crazy way. In between I had money troubles. Not to mention I was at a club that worked me like a dog and cheated me despite my hardwork, talent, and past credits. In the words of Rodney Dangerfield, “I get no respect.”I thought about throwing in the towel. Quitting forever. Going home and getting that provider husband and baby. Saying that I did the New York thing and after a while it wasn’t for me. I was about to give up my hard earned dreams and return to reality.Well then I lost a dear friend of mine-Chacho-to drugs. With his passing, I thought of all the things he would have wanted for me. Chacho was always so proud whenever I ended up on TV or in print somewhere and would brag to no end. That’s when I decided I wasn’t letting my dreams go and would push harder and faster than ever. Within weeks of Chaco’s death I found my puppet children and I on TV. Some of it was fate, dumb luck, and of course the fact I am a puppet hoarder. We went on a press tour. The world saw I was passionate. I ended up getting fired from the hole that worked me to death. No matter. I got a job web hosting, made music, and published I Came, I Saw, I Sang. My life changed because I didn’t quit. The beautiful thing about the comedy game is that everyone has different goals. Some people just want to do standup. Others want to act. Some want to write. Then there are those who end up as club owners and managers. The thing is, those who continue to run the race and finish not only finish together but end up working together. That being said, know where you are going and focus on your game. As in don’t get jealous, do not covet. Every dog has their day. What is meant to be yours will be yours. And when someone gets something great, even though you feel it was meant for you, it might be the first and last big thing they get. It was meant for them, be happy. Because you would want them to be happy for you. Plus jealousy is a waste of time.That being said, always remember to follow your heart and enjoy what you do, whatever it may be. Chase butterflies, look at trees, follow your dreams and don’t be afraid to wish upon a star every once in a great while. And remember following your dreams takes COURAGE! And as a side note, in following your dreams remember to change your socks, bathe, and wear clean underwear. Just sayingXoxoxoMama FoxxxI Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery GirlAvailable as a paperback on 877-Buy-Book, Amazon.comAvailable as an ebook on Nook and KindleAudiobook available on itunes in Spring 2013Portion of proceeds go to RAINN
February 23, 2013
Pretty Little Mouth: A Play Worth the Taste
When I go to a play festival I know it will either be very good or very bad. When I see a new work I know it will either be quite breathtakingly wonderful or quite breathtakingly awful to the point where I need an inhaler. When seeing a play where there is a theme of BDSM it can either be painfully awesome or it can just plain hurt. Pretty Little Mouth, written and directed by Marcus Yi is breathtakingly wonderful and painfully awesome as well as original, daring, and has quality that transcends the blackbox theatre it played in.At the beginning of the play Marcus Yi, the director, originally from Singapore that is a lawyer by day and playwright by night, announces that “all cellphones must be turned off or there will be real dominitrixes that will come off the stage and spank you.” This exudes a laugh from the audience, a healthy start to the risqué show. As the show begins, ensemble girls do dance numbers in leather with whips. Immediately as an audience member one gets the sense the show will be a wild ride and it is not for the faint hearted. And no, Pretty Little Mouth certainly is not. The show begins with Emily, a stately African American woman who looks more like a sculpture in her red dress and heals with proper Mid-Atlantic Speech rather than a former dominitrix. At the beginning of the play, she is sitting in her red dress getting ready to teach a flute lesson to a pupil she describes as a “spoiled kid” as she speaks to a former friend of hers from her dungeon days. Tiffany Terrell, in playing Emily, gives the character a sophistication but also does well in layering her with an undercurrent of a past she wants to forget as she lives in a present where her husband is running for mayor and she is more desperate housewife than dungeon mistress. A mixture of simplicity and depth, it is clear this actress can play any role and in many ways is reminiscent of Meryl Streep in her early days. This mixture of simplicity and depth is seen as soon as this woman, in her red gown, lights a joint. Within minutes her flute student is knocking at the door. She puts out the joint and begins spraying air freshener, an old college trick. Enter Brian Knoebel playing the role of John. At first he is an impish student, forced to take flute because his parents believe it will bolster his college application. Less inclined to attend lessons because he is serious about music and more inclined to go to the home of Emily because he has a school boy crush on her, this is apparent when he flubs the piece he is supposed to have been practicing for three months. At first this character is likeable and seems innocent. However within minutes we see John is conniving and evil. He tells his teacher he doesn’t want to play flute but wants to continue seeing her. That’s when John confesses to having a joint in his pocket. Emily, the adult on the surface, tells him to hand him the joint. That is when John resorts to blackmail explaining that he has found out about Emily’s past working in the dungeon while repairing her computer, and is willing to expose her past unless she gives him what he wants. John wants a night with his gorgeous, statuesque teacher. Emily agrees, only on the condition that John give her the hard drive with all of her old advertisements from her domming days.At this point Pretty Little Mouth has proven that it is interesting. However, there is still the crucial question. Will it sink or will it swim? Well it proves that it swims. Emily comes to the home of her pupil John when his parents are not home in order to commit the forbidden act that could get her sent to jail if caught as well as ruin the reputation of her husband. Ever the fifteen year old, pimple faced dork with a dream he has a room adorned with Star Wars memorabilia including a Yoda Piggy Bank. In an effort to make his conquest feel welcome, John gives her Kool-Aid, the tactic of perhaps Vili Fualaau used to seduce Mary Kay Letourneau. Needless to say Emily is disgusted. John attempts to turn on music, which Emily tells him is “noise.” That’s when he claps his hands and John turns off the lights. In an awkward minute and a half, which sums up the first sexual encounter or an adolescent male, John turns the lights on. He turns off his manipulative side and seems concerned about the welfare of Emily, who demands the disks. However John has another trick up his sleeve. He reveals that there is a camera in the Yoda Piggy Bank that captured their whole tryst, and Emily is to become his sex slave or else he will expose this as well as her past of working in the world of BDSM.
(L: Brian Knoebel (John) reveals to R: Tiffany Terrell (Emily) that their tryst is not over anytime soon). As the leather clad cuties grace the stage we wonder what is next. At this point Pretty Little Mouthcould drag but it does the opposite. Now we are intrigued as we see Emily in her blue bathrobe and hear a knock on the door. It is Danielle Ma in the role of Jalene. Unlike her put together friend from college who married rich, Jalene is still entrenched in the BDSM world and has been dating a drug dealer that she has stolen from. As Jalene, Danielle Ma gives her a mix of whackiness, sexiness, and outright likeability. High off of a crystal meth binge, Jalene admits her boyfriend gave her a black eye and she stole out of retaliation. Emily tries to get a word in edgewise but Jalene is in her “Earth Mother” alter ego, ruling the dungeon with an iron fist. Finally, after making drinks the two UT sisters begin to talk about Emily’s problems. At this point Emily has hit rock bottom. Her husband was not working late on a campaign for mayor, but rather having an affair with his barely legal secretary. Jalene, who believes Emily has the perfect life, dismisses her problems. That is when Emily confides in her about John blackmailing her about her past profession. Jalene then asks Emily why she stopped working in the dungeon. Emily replies she enjoyed the pain she gave to men too much. That is when Jalene suggests that Emily brings John to the brink not enough to kill him, but perhaps give him a good scare. The climax of Pretty Little Mouth is when John enters. This is where Marcus Yi’s masterful writing comes in. Despite the fact he is a conniving and manipulative geek, John has also developed feelings for his flute teacher turned sex slave and says he desires to marry her and take care of her. He has even planned a future for the two in California. But Emily has other plans for him. She tells John she loves him and wants to experiment with him. That is when she reveals the four way restraints. John puts them on and begins to get nervous. Emily enters adorned in the leather outfit from her domming days along with a whip that she periodically cracks. John goes from the one who has the upper hand to a sniveling, scared pile of mess. In this turn of events, the sex slave has now become the master. While I choose not to reveal the ending, this part of the show is the perfect ending to a perfect tale where there is no dull moment.While the acting was excellent, and there was no weak link, the true credit belongs to Marcus Yi. As a director he knows well how to place everyone based on their strengths and what they bring to the piece. A masterful writer who combines suspense, wit, and intrigue that is both entertaining and deep, he exposes that all is not as it seems in a place where everyone rides their bikes in front of houses with white picket fences. He rips down the dirty curtains and gently probes the inner dungeon master or deviant in all of us. Pretty Little Mouthis a must see. See it now before it is sold out on Broadway, or before it hits the big screen.
(Tiffany Terrell (Emily) in the back as Brian Knoebel in the front (John) in the climax aka the turning of the screw, no pun intended).February 22, 2013
Smack My Bitch Up (Prodigy)
When I was thirteen a photographer friend of mine had an assistant. She was a nice girl and she used to like to go after famous men in order to date them. Some of it was she was star struck, some of it was that she was young. Some of it was that she was a groupie type.
At the time my family had just gotten MTV. It was a way that my dad could watch my brother's football games. Where there was one station to be purchased twenty more came with the package. Within two weeks of having MTV I was hooked like heroin. I still remember when Prodigy came on the screen. I was in love. I loved their loud music, the cacophony of noise. This was awesome. "He's so cute!" I squealed with my sister.During an MTV watching session, in which Prodigy made MTV news my dad decided it was time for one of his daddy lectures. He told us that while it was wonderful that these people did what they did fame wasn't the most important thing in the world. It was more important to live a good life and have a family.
Well in the mean time my photographer friend's assistant began dating a band member from Prodigy. She fell head over heals for him and by the way she spoke about him they were going to be together forever. Apparently she met this guy while he was on tour and invited me to this party where the band members would be. She gave me the scoop on Prodigy, that they weren't a real band per se. That they were put together by the studio and owned by Madonna and her label.
This girl very quickly fell for this guy and called him all the time burning up her phone bill. However Mr. Prodigy had different ideas. This girl was following him, and burning up her money. On the other hand Mr. Prodigy could have cared less. The girl wanted to be Mrs. Prodigy, but she was just one of many girls that he had in many ports. She was in love, he was just looking to have his bed occupied.
Finally one day she made plans to fly to London to be with him, start a life. My photographer friend, sick of the charade, gave her the business. He told her that if this guy cared about her he would be paying for her plane ticket to England and paying for her to come to see him. If this guy cared he would have tried harder to make this work. It's not what she wanted to hear. She wanted to hear that Mr. Prodigy, her famous boyfriend, loved her.
Needless to say the romance began to fall off soon after that. She woke up and realized despite his fame Mr. Prodigy was just a frog, not a prince. The experience helped her wake up. From there she actually met a nice, nonfamous guy who made a decent amount of money and treated her well. They got married and have kids. They are happy. Sure she didn't marry Mr. Prodigy but she has a good story. But all and all, it is just a good story. The end.
As for Mr. Prodigy, he had his time in the sun and like the 1990s he too faded into obscurity. He is probably living in London, maybe working in music still. Or perhaps he is working at the local eatery serving fish 'n' chips asking customers, "Do you want fries with that?" I think him and the legion of bands that burned out and disappeared after a hit or two.
I thought of this story the other day when I was in kickboxing and I heard the song "Fire Starter." I was like, "Wow, havent heard that since middle school" and thought of this girl. Perhaps Mr. Prodigy is running around the British country side and telling women of his days as a rock superstar, beer belly and all. I can only guess. Sigh, just be thankful that phase of my life is over.
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
877-Buy-Book and Amazon.com for paperback
Kindle and Nook for Ebook
Audiobook available on 2013
Subscribe to my youtube at www.youtube.com/aprilthestarr
Portion of proceeds go to RAINN
At the time my family had just gotten MTV. It was a way that my dad could watch my brother's football games. Where there was one station to be purchased twenty more came with the package. Within two weeks of having MTV I was hooked like heroin. I still remember when Prodigy came on the screen. I was in love. I loved their loud music, the cacophony of noise. This was awesome. "He's so cute!" I squealed with my sister.During an MTV watching session, in which Prodigy made MTV news my dad decided it was time for one of his daddy lectures. He told us that while it was wonderful that these people did what they did fame wasn't the most important thing in the world. It was more important to live a good life and have a family.
Well in the mean time my photographer friend's assistant began dating a band member from Prodigy. She fell head over heals for him and by the way she spoke about him they were going to be together forever. Apparently she met this guy while he was on tour and invited me to this party where the band members would be. She gave me the scoop on Prodigy, that they weren't a real band per se. That they were put together by the studio and owned by Madonna and her label.
This girl very quickly fell for this guy and called him all the time burning up her phone bill. However Mr. Prodigy had different ideas. This girl was following him, and burning up her money. On the other hand Mr. Prodigy could have cared less. The girl wanted to be Mrs. Prodigy, but she was just one of many girls that he had in many ports. She was in love, he was just looking to have his bed occupied.
Finally one day she made plans to fly to London to be with him, start a life. My photographer friend, sick of the charade, gave her the business. He told her that if this guy cared about her he would be paying for her plane ticket to England and paying for her to come to see him. If this guy cared he would have tried harder to make this work. It's not what she wanted to hear. She wanted to hear that Mr. Prodigy, her famous boyfriend, loved her.
Needless to say the romance began to fall off soon after that. She woke up and realized despite his fame Mr. Prodigy was just a frog, not a prince. The experience helped her wake up. From there she actually met a nice, nonfamous guy who made a decent amount of money and treated her well. They got married and have kids. They are happy. Sure she didn't marry Mr. Prodigy but she has a good story. But all and all, it is just a good story. The end.
As for Mr. Prodigy, he had his time in the sun and like the 1990s he too faded into obscurity. He is probably living in London, maybe working in music still. Or perhaps he is working at the local eatery serving fish 'n' chips asking customers, "Do you want fries with that?" I think him and the legion of bands that burned out and disappeared after a hit or two.
I thought of this story the other day when I was in kickboxing and I heard the song "Fire Starter." I was like, "Wow, havent heard that since middle school" and thought of this girl. Perhaps Mr. Prodigy is running around the British country side and telling women of his days as a rock superstar, beer belly and all. I can only guess. Sigh, just be thankful that phase of my life is over.
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
877-Buy-Book and Amazon.com for paperback
Kindle and Nook for Ebook
Audiobook available on 2013
Subscribe to my youtube at www.youtube.com/aprilthestarr
Portion of proceeds go to RAINN
February 20, 2013
Forgive Them Father (Lauryn Hill)
I have spoken a lot about some drama that happened this week-some drug addict bitch throwing shade-and I will allude briefly to it again. Well not in the way you think. Truth is, the drama made me tired. It gave me stomach aches and made it hard for me to keep my food down. The only thing stopping me from disfiguring Horse Face was that she wasn't worth a felony charge. Hell I would have beat her brains in but in between the drug use and the dumb ass she she is to begin with I don't think it would have done much good. But I didn't because again she is not worth jail time.
At the same time this whole thing has made me grateful that the past is the past. That I am out of a circle of people who thrive on drama, so much so that it is all consuming offstage and when they get onstage they are flat, boring, and unmemorable. If these people put the same energy they did into their careers as they did to stirring shit they would be winning an Academy Award this Sunday. But alas, they are not. This is a circle of people where gossip isn't just a past time, it is an all the time. This is a group of people where no one can be trusted. They are your friends until you have what they want, then they throw you under a bus. Not to mention it's not just Horse Face, they all drink heavily and use copious amounts of drugs. Dealing with their negative attention seeking bullshit drained my energy and gave me a headache. It made me angry until I realized they did not deserve my anger. That would mean that they mattered.
Instead I am out of that group of people. I am no longer with an ex who lies and drinks on top of his psych meds. Horse Face can have that prize, backney and balding head. I am no longer a gossiping, jealous wannabe envious of the success of others and entitled that it should be my own when I do nothing about it. My energy goes into my art and into my work and one day I will win a Tony or an Emmy or an Oscar. Hell I may even host that damn show. My friends these days are my true friends, not friendemies who will turn at any second.
My life is much better now. I don't like drama offstage. It drains me. Not only does it show personal growth, but also is the mark that I am doing things with myself. I don't feed off of people's misery, and experiencing the jealousy I have in these past eighteen months I would never, ever want anyone to feel that way. I look at that whole circle, all those people, and I could laugh because they are so petty, stupid, and truly don't matter. But instead I feel a certain amount of pity because they don't know better and never will.
I know better though, and I know better than to be angry. Because when you argue with an idiot you get two idiots arguing. I remember my friend Chacho Vasquez once said it best, "People are in your past because you past them over. When you look back they are right where you left them, doing the same shit and even wearing the same bad clothes."
Chacho was correct. Monday he would have been thirty seven years old. I know his spirit was with me, guiding me, letting me to know to laugh this bitch and her drama off. To shake her like last season's fashions.
I am thankful and grateful that these people are a part of my past. They don't deserve to be a part of my present because they don't deserve my gifts. And they most certainly won't be a part of my future. But the little refresher was good. It reminded me that I don't like what I used to be and that I never want to go there again. Progress and growth, while painful, feel good. It is a reminder that we must keep moving towards the ball of light. It is a reminder that no one is worth getting the best of you.
That being said keep moving towards the light kids.
And as for those people, I ask God to forgive them cause they know not what they do. Poor ignorants do not know any better. And it must be painful to be that shallow, stupid, and limited in ever capacity.
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
Paperback 877-Buy-Book, Amazon
EBook Kindle, Nook
Audiobook available in Spring 2013
Portion of proceeds go to RAINN
At the same time this whole thing has made me grateful that the past is the past. That I am out of a circle of people who thrive on drama, so much so that it is all consuming offstage and when they get onstage they are flat, boring, and unmemorable. If these people put the same energy they did into their careers as they did to stirring shit they would be winning an Academy Award this Sunday. But alas, they are not. This is a circle of people where gossip isn't just a past time, it is an all the time. This is a group of people where no one can be trusted. They are your friends until you have what they want, then they throw you under a bus. Not to mention it's not just Horse Face, they all drink heavily and use copious amounts of drugs. Dealing with their negative attention seeking bullshit drained my energy and gave me a headache. It made me angry until I realized they did not deserve my anger. That would mean that they mattered.
Instead I am out of that group of people. I am no longer with an ex who lies and drinks on top of his psych meds. Horse Face can have that prize, backney and balding head. I am no longer a gossiping, jealous wannabe envious of the success of others and entitled that it should be my own when I do nothing about it. My energy goes into my art and into my work and one day I will win a Tony or an Emmy or an Oscar. Hell I may even host that damn show. My friends these days are my true friends, not friendemies who will turn at any second.
My life is much better now. I don't like drama offstage. It drains me. Not only does it show personal growth, but also is the mark that I am doing things with myself. I don't feed off of people's misery, and experiencing the jealousy I have in these past eighteen months I would never, ever want anyone to feel that way. I look at that whole circle, all those people, and I could laugh because they are so petty, stupid, and truly don't matter. But instead I feel a certain amount of pity because they don't know better and never will.
I know better though, and I know better than to be angry. Because when you argue with an idiot you get two idiots arguing. I remember my friend Chacho Vasquez once said it best, "People are in your past because you past them over. When you look back they are right where you left them, doing the same shit and even wearing the same bad clothes."
Chacho was correct. Monday he would have been thirty seven years old. I know his spirit was with me, guiding me, letting me to know to laugh this bitch and her drama off. To shake her like last season's fashions.
I am thankful and grateful that these people are a part of my past. They don't deserve to be a part of my present because they don't deserve my gifts. And they most certainly won't be a part of my future. But the little refresher was good. It reminded me that I don't like what I used to be and that I never want to go there again. Progress and growth, while painful, feel good. It is a reminder that we must keep moving towards the ball of light. It is a reminder that no one is worth getting the best of you.
That being said keep moving towards the light kids.
And as for those people, I ask God to forgive them cause they know not what they do. Poor ignorants do not know any better. And it must be painful to be that shallow, stupid, and limited in ever capacity.
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
Paperback 877-Buy-Book, Amazon
EBook Kindle, Nook
Audiobook available in Spring 2013
Portion of proceeds go to RAINN
February 19, 2013
Sexual Harassment at the Phone Sex Line
Last night I was in Queens with my friend's Derek and Roger just McChillin. It had been an eventful night. Derek made these chicken meat balls and then petrified them in the microwave breaking Fernando's plate. Derek then attempted to hide the broken plate. I had a taste of the petrified meatball. Tasted curiously like astronaut iced cream.
Anyway, Derek was talking about his time as a phone sex operator. Apparently, there had been a lot going on with guys pretending to be trannies and the whole shabing shbang that just goes with working at such an establishment. Well Derek was telling us this guy that worked at the phone sex line was developing a thing for him. So my buddy was totally oblivious and was just like la la la. Well this dude starts getting jealous and possessive everytime Derek talks dirty to someone on the other line. He starts calling Derek names when he is doing his job and saying he is a tease and stuff. And then he says Derek was leading him on by talking dirty to the client and messing with his emotions and making the work place unsafe.
So he accused Derek of sexual harassment.
You can be accused of sexual harassment at a phone sex line? And I thought I had heard everything. Needless to say the claim didnt get very far. Still, this dude filed the appropriate paper work and everything.
Wowsa.
While I thought nothing surprised me, clearly I was wrong. Apparently anything is possible with my friends.
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
Paperback 877-Buy-Book, Amazon.com
EBook on Amazon and Kindle
Audiobook on itunes
Portion of proceeds go to RAINN
Anyway, Derek was talking about his time as a phone sex operator. Apparently, there had been a lot going on with guys pretending to be trannies and the whole shabing shbang that just goes with working at such an establishment. Well Derek was telling us this guy that worked at the phone sex line was developing a thing for him. So my buddy was totally oblivious and was just like la la la. Well this dude starts getting jealous and possessive everytime Derek talks dirty to someone on the other line. He starts calling Derek names when he is doing his job and saying he is a tease and stuff. And then he says Derek was leading him on by talking dirty to the client and messing with his emotions and making the work place unsafe.
So he accused Derek of sexual harassment.
You can be accused of sexual harassment at a phone sex line? And I thought I had heard everything. Needless to say the claim didnt get very far. Still, this dude filed the appropriate paper work and everything.
Wowsa.
While I thought nothing surprised me, clearly I was wrong. Apparently anything is possible with my friends.
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
Paperback 877-Buy-Book, Amazon.com
EBook on Amazon and Kindle
Audiobook on itunes
Portion of proceeds go to RAINN
February 18, 2013
Breaking and Entering
I was recently telling this story about my late friend and figured it was best to write it down. The truth is, Chacho was a colorful character. Part of being his friend sometimes was making sure he didn't get killed and making sure others didn't kill him, hell it was making sure I didn't kill him. One day we were trotting in Chelsea after one of his botched plastic surgery accidents had put him in the hospital. While he could not afford Michael Jackson's doc, I was sure my friend was going to someone like him. Someone probably licensed in Cuba where he was from but had no prayer of getting accredited in America.
On this day in particular, Chacho and I had run into an old friend of his. He was talking his ear off and treating me like the third wheel which meant one of two things, one that my buddy was planning on getting sex later from this strapping gent. Or two, that my buddy was about to throw down some shade. Adorn in his Louis Vuitton Chacho pushed his Chanel sunglasses to his nose as soon as the man left.
This is how the exchange went between us
Me: Who was that?
Chacho: That mutherfucker? He told the Feds I was selling drugs and he got me sent away. Not only did he cripple the small business I was trying to run, but he owes me five thousand dollars!
Me: Chacho, I am sorry to hear that.
Chacho: You don't understand! I will get my five grand, April!
Me: Chacho, it has been five years. You have been to jail and now you are bettering yourself. Forget about it. He did you a favor. Besides, it was a drug debt. That's illegal.
Chacho: He owes me five grand.
Me: Chacho, he also put you in jail. While I understand you are upset you need to put the past behind you.
Chacho: And it wasn't a very happy time in my life so there you go!
I bid Chacho goodbye and went home. As usual, my head spun from our adventures but I walked in my door laughing my ass off at my friend and his anti-logic. So I went to bed and as usual had my phone beside me. That is when my phone rang. It was Chacho. It was probably the usual drama where he was fighting with his brother over something crazy. I picked up for some odd reason.
Chacho: Hello April, I have a bit of a problem.
Me: If this is the shit with your brother I am in no mood, Chacho.
Chacho: Oh no, nothing like that. You remember the guy we met on the street that owed me five grand? Well I broke into his apartment because I remembered where he lived, using the old nail file and credit card trick. I had planned to steal five thousand dollars worth of things to get my money back. But there is one problem April, he moved! So now I am in some stranger's apartment and I can't possibly steal from them because they don't owe me money. I don't know what to do!
I go silent on the other end of the phone. I may have accidentally become an accessory to a crime.
Chacho: You there?
Me: Yes, this is what you do. GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE! NOW!
Chacho: Okay, will do.
Chacho hangs up the phone. I am sitting in bed exasperated. Five minutes later I get another call. It is Chacho again.
Chacho: Hi April, I am on the sidewalk. I got out of the apartment. I didn't steal anything.
Me: Good. Chacho, do me a favor, don't call me in the midst of doing something illegal ever again. Seriously, you put me in a compromising situation.
Chacho: Okay, fair enough. Thanks for talking to me. Sweet dreams, sweet heart. Love You, Toodles.
Chacho hangs up the phone. My head in spinning. I have a feeling I will need advil in the morning and I am absolutely right.
But one thing about Chacho, he never lied to me. Man was honest. He let me know what he was up to. Once I told him to lie to me to pretend he had his shit together. Chacho responded by saying, "Why would I do that? I am such a jerkoff I would probably screw it up."
Because of Chacho I use the words jerkoff and shade all the time. Happy Birthday Dear Heart, I hope you stole yourself a nice present and are having sex somewhere with a nice looking man who loves and adores you. Or as you once reminded me, "A man is put on this planet only to buy you presents." So maybe you man will buy you presents and go broke.
LoveAprilI Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery GirlPaperback Amazon and 877-Buy-BookEBook Kindle and NookAudiobook available in the spring of 2013Portion of proceeds go to RAINN
On this day in particular, Chacho and I had run into an old friend of his. He was talking his ear off and treating me like the third wheel which meant one of two things, one that my buddy was planning on getting sex later from this strapping gent. Or two, that my buddy was about to throw down some shade. Adorn in his Louis Vuitton Chacho pushed his Chanel sunglasses to his nose as soon as the man left.
This is how the exchange went between us
Me: Who was that?
Chacho: That mutherfucker? He told the Feds I was selling drugs and he got me sent away. Not only did he cripple the small business I was trying to run, but he owes me five thousand dollars!
Me: Chacho, I am sorry to hear that.
Chacho: You don't understand! I will get my five grand, April!
Me: Chacho, it has been five years. You have been to jail and now you are bettering yourself. Forget about it. He did you a favor. Besides, it was a drug debt. That's illegal.
Chacho: He owes me five grand.
Me: Chacho, he also put you in jail. While I understand you are upset you need to put the past behind you.
Chacho: And it wasn't a very happy time in my life so there you go!
I bid Chacho goodbye and went home. As usual, my head spun from our adventures but I walked in my door laughing my ass off at my friend and his anti-logic. So I went to bed and as usual had my phone beside me. That is when my phone rang. It was Chacho. It was probably the usual drama where he was fighting with his brother over something crazy. I picked up for some odd reason.
Chacho: Hello April, I have a bit of a problem.
Me: If this is the shit with your brother I am in no mood, Chacho.
Chacho: Oh no, nothing like that. You remember the guy we met on the street that owed me five grand? Well I broke into his apartment because I remembered where he lived, using the old nail file and credit card trick. I had planned to steal five thousand dollars worth of things to get my money back. But there is one problem April, he moved! So now I am in some stranger's apartment and I can't possibly steal from them because they don't owe me money. I don't know what to do!
I go silent on the other end of the phone. I may have accidentally become an accessory to a crime.
Chacho: You there?
Me: Yes, this is what you do. GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE! NOW!
Chacho: Okay, will do.
Chacho hangs up the phone. I am sitting in bed exasperated. Five minutes later I get another call. It is Chacho again.
Chacho: Hi April, I am on the sidewalk. I got out of the apartment. I didn't steal anything.
Me: Good. Chacho, do me a favor, don't call me in the midst of doing something illegal ever again. Seriously, you put me in a compromising situation.
Chacho: Okay, fair enough. Thanks for talking to me. Sweet dreams, sweet heart. Love You, Toodles.
Chacho hangs up the phone. My head in spinning. I have a feeling I will need advil in the morning and I am absolutely right.
But one thing about Chacho, he never lied to me. Man was honest. He let me know what he was up to. Once I told him to lie to me to pretend he had his shit together. Chacho responded by saying, "Why would I do that? I am such a jerkoff I would probably screw it up."
Because of Chacho I use the words jerkoff and shade all the time. Happy Birthday Dear Heart, I hope you stole yourself a nice present and are having sex somewhere with a nice looking man who loves and adores you. Or as you once reminded me, "A man is put on this planet only to buy you presents." So maybe you man will buy you presents and go broke.
LoveAprilI Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery GirlPaperback Amazon and 877-Buy-BookEBook Kindle and NookAudiobook available in the spring of 2013Portion of proceeds go to RAINN
February 17, 2013
No More Drama (Mary J. Blige)
As you all know I have had some drama this past week. I don't even want to talk about it anymore. When I was younger I thrived off of drama. It let me know I was alive. These days I honestly hate the shit. For serious.
The drama this week has made me tired. I don't fight over men. To me they all do the same damn tricks and have the same set of equipment. I don't care. Take your bullshit elsewhere. You aren't mad at me, you are mad at your man. Slap your man around. He is a balding idiot. And I know for a fact he is an idiot because I used to date him. He had plenty of nicknames. His friends call him Shotgun. But in my experience he was more Mr. Softy.
Either way I am depleted. My recording session was postponed because Debbie Harry was laying down background vocal tracks, an all day event for a whole album. I didn't get my man's email until I got there. I took the day and just mozied and made plans with friends after I talked to my parents. So far today has been drama free. Last night I was so tired from this crap I fell asleep as soon as I got home. I was out delivering a telegram and saw a street fight. I was like, wow, someone's drama and it ain't mine.
Tonight I plan to clean my house and deliver a Marilyn Monroe. Tomorrow I plan on interviewing web designers and composers for my musical. I also plan on making more videos and wearing the new bathrobe my mother sent me. Oh and to get in touch with my dress maker and puppet designer cause May Wilson is being upgraded. No more drama. No more drama. Save that shit for the stage girl.
Speaking of drama, Mary J. Blige, you better pay your taxes girl. You and Lauryn Hill.
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
Paperback 877-Buy-Book, Amazon.com
EBook available on Nook and Kindle
Audiobook available in the spring of 2013
Portion of proceeds go to RAINN
The drama this week has made me tired. I don't fight over men. To me they all do the same damn tricks and have the same set of equipment. I don't care. Take your bullshit elsewhere. You aren't mad at me, you are mad at your man. Slap your man around. He is a balding idiot. And I know for a fact he is an idiot because I used to date him. He had plenty of nicknames. His friends call him Shotgun. But in my experience he was more Mr. Softy.
Either way I am depleted. My recording session was postponed because Debbie Harry was laying down background vocal tracks, an all day event for a whole album. I didn't get my man's email until I got there. I took the day and just mozied and made plans with friends after I talked to my parents. So far today has been drama free. Last night I was so tired from this crap I fell asleep as soon as I got home. I was out delivering a telegram and saw a street fight. I was like, wow, someone's drama and it ain't mine.
Tonight I plan to clean my house and deliver a Marilyn Monroe. Tomorrow I plan on interviewing web designers and composers for my musical. I also plan on making more videos and wearing the new bathrobe my mother sent me. Oh and to get in touch with my dress maker and puppet designer cause May Wilson is being upgraded. No more drama. No more drama. Save that shit for the stage girl.
Speaking of drama, Mary J. Blige, you better pay your taxes girl. You and Lauryn Hill.
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
Paperback 877-Buy-Book, Amazon.com
EBook available on Nook and Kindle
Audiobook available in the spring of 2013
Portion of proceeds go to RAINN
February 16, 2013
Ms. Wannabe Strikes Again
I have had a hateraide filled last twenty four hours. A girl known as Ms. Wannabe has struck again. Lets just say the foul bitch has stepped over the line. I don't want to get into detail about what happened because why? I know it was pointed at me. I mean, the whore made a video where she had a character that had the name April getting her head beaten in. Not to mention since I have been binge video making she is starting the same shit. I know, scary right? Part of me is scared and knows I have to watch my back against her.
I don't know what is more foul. The fact this cunt face has ripped down the posters at the club I perform at. The fact she would put up a video when I did. The fact she spread rumors that I was drinking again and stalking her which wasn't true, and then had the nerve to corner me at a painfully terrible pAArty to pick my brain about my ex as she bragged about her drug use. (For the record, I am not a stalker. That involves focus.) Then she had the nerve to say that I was bad mouthing her boyfriend. Meanwhile the bitch is ripping off my wardrobe. Not to mention whenever I put out a video she feels the need to put out one. Oh and she and my ex's psycho mama were talking shit about me on a very public site. Now she is copying my binge video making and made a video where a girl named April was getting her head beaten in, oh and it was filmed in my ex's room. And on top of that she is talking about writing a book. And the whore got on a TV show that I was on and talked about all this money I got which was a LIE!
I would be a fool to ignore this. She clearly wants to be me and it is scary. I have done nothing to this woman except once upon a time I dated her asshole boyfriend. Whateveski.
Yesterday I was pissed with her. So pissed I almost sent my followers after the cow. Yes, I have eight times as many followers as that cow. Oh and her latest is that she is trying to work out. Did I mention she is weight training and kickboxing, two activities I like? Yes, that cow has just jumped over the moon and landed on my bad side. Yesterday I was stewing like hell and wanted to send some friends to beat her ass too. She doesn't know who I know. She messed with the wrong person. Plus bitch is such a poser. She brags about being caught for shoplifting. You were caught you dumb ho. Plus the one who is caught and brags usually was the dumb fall kid who was made to hold the stuff. My friend Chacho filled me in on that crap when she started her shade. Not to mention she claims she is poor when both her parents are well educated and her aunt is a millionaire.
Being stalked in this way is emotionally damaging, especially since I have done nothing to this woman except once upon a time I dated the loser she now spreads her legs for. I don't want him, she can have him. But for some reason she has it out for me. My mother says he still pines for me. Let him. Since ending it with his ass I have dated celebrities and have been on television countless times. I would never be seen with someone that ugly in public.
After talking it out with friends I have decided not to even print this woman's name or to assail her in public any longer. I am already farther than she will ever be. Acknowledging her would be letting her get what she wants, to sniff my underwear. Not to mention that it would be feeding into her sickness. There is a part of me that is afraid because she is so obsessed with being April Brucker.
But then there is a part of me that takes pity on her. While I call her names it is because she is a bully. Her behavior is that of a sick child. She wants the attention and she wants to fight with her boyfriend's old girlfriend. If they all died and went to hell I wouldn't care, but she is obsessed with my every move. I mean, before this whole thing I was friends with her. We laughed and joked and hit it off. She was funny, talented, and had the singing voice of an angel. Better than what I have for sure. Yet for some reason she sees being obsessed with me as her route to happiness.
For as hard as it is for me, I have to look away. I have really torked up my privacy settings so she can't see my stuff and I can't see hers. Unfortunately, someone like that makes you feed off their drama and then in turn you become obsessed with what they are doing-hence this entire blog. I guess for as much as she is angering me, it is a wake up call that comes with a growing career and fan base. For the ten people that love you twenty hate you. And she is one of the twenty that does.
I remember when he was alive I was telling my friend Joe about her shade. He stopped me and said, "Tune her out, April."
That whole circle of people that she is associated with is uber toxic. Since things have started happening for me they have either tried to rain on my parade or have slandered me in public. To me jealousy is a shame. It is time wasting and all consuming. It gets me no where. Having been on the other side of it I can tell you it is ugly and disgusting. But then again, these people are ugly and disgusting.
I don't wish any ill upon this woman. There is a part of me that hopes her cat gets rabies and claws her fucking eyes out while she sleeps. But then there is a part of me that feels deep sorrow that she doesn't feel that she is enough, and that feels she has to be someone else in order to appease her boyfriend. In that part that feels sorry for her, I know there is a deep pain in her heart because she feels the need to stay in a relationship that is clearly unhealthy and where she is deeply troubled and unhappy. Someone who changes their appearance to look like someone else, takes on an identity that is not their own and abuses drugs is someone who is struggling deeply. They are someone who is profoundly troubled. I can only pray God protects others from her but most importantly her from herself.
I have given this woman too much attention already and cannot feed into her. But someone melting down so quickly is just painful to watch. Especially in a lot of ways because I feel so responsible. People tell me these things are going to happen. I have what they call followers. I am starting to have what they call a career.
There is a part of me that is worried she will beat me at my own game by trying to be April Brucker. But she can't and won't. Being someone else is hard work. Changing your whole personality is hard work. This will probably be her first and last big TV appearance too. I mean, it is the best a glorified extra will ever do. I only wish her the best and much success. I just want her to stop stalking me and trying to be me. Not only is it spooky and scary, it is heart breaking because I knew her before this and I know she is better than that. And to do this over a guy? One who is not all that good looking. It isn't just pathetic, it is beyond the pale.
But now I have to tune her out. I need to focus on my growing fan base. The fact my TV shows are on netflix. The fact I am one of my bosses top workers. The fact I have a growing family of puppet children. The fact that Lauryn Hill's former sound engineer is reading my audio book. The fact I am April Brucker and never have nor never will feel the need to be anyone else.
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
877-Buy-Book, Amazon for paperback
EBook on Kindle and Nook
Audiobook available in Spring of 2013
Portion of proceeds go to RAINN
I don't know what is more foul. The fact this cunt face has ripped down the posters at the club I perform at. The fact she would put up a video when I did. The fact she spread rumors that I was drinking again and stalking her which wasn't true, and then had the nerve to corner me at a painfully terrible pAArty to pick my brain about my ex as she bragged about her drug use. (For the record, I am not a stalker. That involves focus.) Then she had the nerve to say that I was bad mouthing her boyfriend. Meanwhile the bitch is ripping off my wardrobe. Not to mention whenever I put out a video she feels the need to put out one. Oh and she and my ex's psycho mama were talking shit about me on a very public site. Now she is copying my binge video making and made a video where a girl named April was getting her head beaten in, oh and it was filmed in my ex's room. And on top of that she is talking about writing a book. And the whore got on a TV show that I was on and talked about all this money I got which was a LIE!
I would be a fool to ignore this. She clearly wants to be me and it is scary. I have done nothing to this woman except once upon a time I dated her asshole boyfriend. Whateveski.
Yesterday I was pissed with her. So pissed I almost sent my followers after the cow. Yes, I have eight times as many followers as that cow. Oh and her latest is that she is trying to work out. Did I mention she is weight training and kickboxing, two activities I like? Yes, that cow has just jumped over the moon and landed on my bad side. Yesterday I was stewing like hell and wanted to send some friends to beat her ass too. She doesn't know who I know. She messed with the wrong person. Plus bitch is such a poser. She brags about being caught for shoplifting. You were caught you dumb ho. Plus the one who is caught and brags usually was the dumb fall kid who was made to hold the stuff. My friend Chacho filled me in on that crap when she started her shade. Not to mention she claims she is poor when both her parents are well educated and her aunt is a millionaire.
Being stalked in this way is emotionally damaging, especially since I have done nothing to this woman except once upon a time I dated the loser she now spreads her legs for. I don't want him, she can have him. But for some reason she has it out for me. My mother says he still pines for me. Let him. Since ending it with his ass I have dated celebrities and have been on television countless times. I would never be seen with someone that ugly in public.
After talking it out with friends I have decided not to even print this woman's name or to assail her in public any longer. I am already farther than she will ever be. Acknowledging her would be letting her get what she wants, to sniff my underwear. Not to mention that it would be feeding into her sickness. There is a part of me that is afraid because she is so obsessed with being April Brucker.
But then there is a part of me that takes pity on her. While I call her names it is because she is a bully. Her behavior is that of a sick child. She wants the attention and she wants to fight with her boyfriend's old girlfriend. If they all died and went to hell I wouldn't care, but she is obsessed with my every move. I mean, before this whole thing I was friends with her. We laughed and joked and hit it off. She was funny, talented, and had the singing voice of an angel. Better than what I have for sure. Yet for some reason she sees being obsessed with me as her route to happiness.
For as hard as it is for me, I have to look away. I have really torked up my privacy settings so she can't see my stuff and I can't see hers. Unfortunately, someone like that makes you feed off their drama and then in turn you become obsessed with what they are doing-hence this entire blog. I guess for as much as she is angering me, it is a wake up call that comes with a growing career and fan base. For the ten people that love you twenty hate you. And she is one of the twenty that does.
I remember when he was alive I was telling my friend Joe about her shade. He stopped me and said, "Tune her out, April."
That whole circle of people that she is associated with is uber toxic. Since things have started happening for me they have either tried to rain on my parade or have slandered me in public. To me jealousy is a shame. It is time wasting and all consuming. It gets me no where. Having been on the other side of it I can tell you it is ugly and disgusting. But then again, these people are ugly and disgusting.
I don't wish any ill upon this woman. There is a part of me that hopes her cat gets rabies and claws her fucking eyes out while she sleeps. But then there is a part of me that feels deep sorrow that she doesn't feel that she is enough, and that feels she has to be someone else in order to appease her boyfriend. In that part that feels sorry for her, I know there is a deep pain in her heart because she feels the need to stay in a relationship that is clearly unhealthy and where she is deeply troubled and unhappy. Someone who changes their appearance to look like someone else, takes on an identity that is not their own and abuses drugs is someone who is struggling deeply. They are someone who is profoundly troubled. I can only pray God protects others from her but most importantly her from herself.
I have given this woman too much attention already and cannot feed into her. But someone melting down so quickly is just painful to watch. Especially in a lot of ways because I feel so responsible. People tell me these things are going to happen. I have what they call followers. I am starting to have what they call a career.
There is a part of me that is worried she will beat me at my own game by trying to be April Brucker. But she can't and won't. Being someone else is hard work. Changing your whole personality is hard work. This will probably be her first and last big TV appearance too. I mean, it is the best a glorified extra will ever do. I only wish her the best and much success. I just want her to stop stalking me and trying to be me. Not only is it spooky and scary, it is heart breaking because I knew her before this and I know she is better than that. And to do this over a guy? One who is not all that good looking. It isn't just pathetic, it is beyond the pale.
But now I have to tune her out. I need to focus on my growing fan base. The fact my TV shows are on netflix. The fact I am one of my bosses top workers. The fact I have a growing family of puppet children. The fact that Lauryn Hill's former sound engineer is reading my audio book. The fact I am April Brucker and never have nor never will feel the need to be anyone else.
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
877-Buy-Book, Amazon for paperback
EBook on Kindle and Nook
Audiobook available in Spring of 2013
Portion of proceeds go to RAINN
February 13, 2013
"I Give the Best Blow Jobs in NYC!"
The other night I was walking along and this chick was there with her man friends. They were surrounding her. She seemed like she was 23 and couldn't exactly hold the liquor. I didn't care. I was just passing. Anyway this girl was talking to these guys.
Guy 1: So, what makes you hot?
Guy 2: Well I think her ass makes me hot.
Girl: I give the best blow jobs in NYC, that's what makes me hot.
Guy 1: What do I have to do to find out?
Guy 2: Really?
Girl: I give good blow jobs. Really good blow jobs. I GIVE THE BEST BLOW JOBS IN NYC!
At this point I turned my head like WTF?!?!?!!?
The girl and I locked eyes.
Girl:Yes lady, I am talking to you. I give the best blow jobs in NYC!
I wanted to correct her. While her blow jobs might be good, many of my gay friends who work as escorts or in the porn industry would give that trash pit a run for her money. However, for as hard as they all work none can top May Wilson.
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
877-Buy-Book or Amazon for Paperback
Kindle or Nook for E-Book
Watch for the audiobook on itunes this spring
Portion of proceeds go to RAINN
Guy 1: So, what makes you hot?
Guy 2: Well I think her ass makes me hot.
Girl: I give the best blow jobs in NYC, that's what makes me hot.
Guy 1: What do I have to do to find out?
Guy 2: Really?
Girl: I give good blow jobs. Really good blow jobs. I GIVE THE BEST BLOW JOBS IN NYC!
At this point I turned my head like WTF?!?!?!!?
The girl and I locked eyes.
Girl:Yes lady, I am talking to you. I give the best blow jobs in NYC!
I wanted to correct her. While her blow jobs might be good, many of my gay friends who work as escorts or in the porn industry would give that trash pit a run for her money. However, for as hard as they all work none can top May Wilson.
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
877-Buy-Book or Amazon for Paperback
Kindle or Nook for E-Book
Watch for the audiobook on itunes this spring
Portion of proceeds go to RAINN
