Midlife and the Pursuit of Happiness Part 2

(Part 2) Emily ran over to Bossman who was surrounded by young things and interrupted conversations that were at least beyond the hello stage on the way to where are you going next stage with these young ladies. “Bossman, I need a few bucks because Isley over there won’t talk to me without money and all I wanna do is get happy so I can make you a little happier…”

Slim heard the conversation and turned an even whiter shade of pale. Emily had extorted some ‘medication’ from Isley and threatened to tell Isley’s woman (whom she met by accident down at Social Services, where she gets her happy time meds and does what she must to get them) how much fun Isley really is.

Slim was next. Slim was talking to a pretty young thing who got really pissed when Emily interrupted their fun.Bossman threw Emily a few 20’s and told her to talk to Isley, Bossman said “I’m busy here” to which Emily cheerfully bounced over to Isley. I don’t know exactly what happened next, but after Emily pushed Isley down into the booth in the back and had a strained conversation, Emily left the booth smiling and Isley just left…dematerialized like cigar smoke in the wind.

“Slim take me back to your place tonight and I’ll really make it worth your while” said Emily in front of the dark haired beauty that was with Slim. “Look Emily, I don’t have time for this and you really blew it with me when you pulled that stunt in my driveway back in August, I’m really busy now.” “Yeah Slim too busy to get a blow job, some ass and some….” “Just stop Emily we are talking here” said Slim.

In fact half the herd of females rustled from the pool hall down the block had left. Yaega and some of the other patrons were watching the drama unfold when Bossman noticed his wingman had bailed on him. He was flying alone and was protecting the rest of his herd when he asked me to come over. “Did you do this…did you get Emily down here RJ?

“Hell No!” was my instant response.

“Look, help me out here RJ, get some music going and distract her for about 15 minutes…long enough for a cab to get here and long enough to keep these other young ladies from bailing out. Ok?” “Alright Bossman.” So I broke into the heated discussion Emily was having with Slim which was loud and nasty. Emily said “Oh I see Slim, I’m good enough to suck you, to fuck you, good enough for you to eat my snatch but not to be seen with huh?”

I said “Emily please don’t do that to yourself” and guided her to the jukebox and started talking about rock and roll. I got Emily’s mind on music and then had her talking about herself. She told me all about why she hasn’t been around for awhile. Emily’s estranged and dangerous husband, Rufus is still in jail on an attempted murder charge which might get reduced to aggravated assault. Rufus caught Emily with somebody and beat him bloody with a hose.

Emily said, “I had to have surgery on my intestinal track, thank god I don’t have to wear a colostomy bag…it was awful, they said it was an extreme bowel inflammation.”

Stupidly, I asked, “how did something like that happen Emily.” “Probably from anal sex, I mean it feels so good and guys like Slim and Isley really know how to pack it in.

Mr. Clean heard what Emily said to me and grabbed a pool stick and headed for the pool table with Yaega Lee. He made a nearly hearable comment to Yaega, but it had to do with the pool stick and a solution to future anal and intestinal problems.

I bought Bossman a good half hour as the music kept the girls long enough for the cab to show up. Bossman announced his departure and with him two of the three remaining young ladies jumped in the cab.down.” It was then I noticed Emily rubbing her nose, now I know why she had a quick trip to the ladies room before vamping the place.

Emily wondered if she should drive home because her sugar daddies had left. Bossman and Isley were gone. I said, “Slim will take you home” as Slim snuck back into the bar. “What did you volunteer me for RJ? “Take Emily home, she came here to the sound of your voice so you get her home.” Slim looked at me in amazement and relayed his fears about what could happen in a number of different ways. “Give Yaega an odometer reading from your car, drop Emily and come back, if you get stuck on a conversation longer that 5 minutes give Yaega a call.”

I said this so Slim could protect himself in any future accusations. I told Emily to text me when she got home. “RJ, thanks for looking out for me, I’ll text you to know I’m home safe.” (Emily got into a car with a fool back in September and I had her take my number to text me when she was home and safe, not a candidate for a date rape) Slim said “we’re going now, be back in a few.” As the bar cleared out the dark haired beauty, Rhonda, came back.

I kept Rhonda’s company until Slim came back. Then I left. The back-story to this blog is that Emily had rendezvous with many of the old boys but when they found out she was telling Rufus who they were they avoided her like a skunk in the woods. Rufus is scheduled to get out sometime in January.

To all the Old Boys who really know how to pack it down, Happy New Year.

RJ

Midlife and the Pursuit of Happiness Part 1

Sometimes in life, we are faced to revisit the things in life we failed at. Sometimes we are faced with dilemma’s that are a chain of different events caused by what we have failed at.

It is when we actually have to make decisions and face the reality that ‘we’ must change our hearts and minds in order to actually bring on the ‘success’ we really want begs the question: Do we let the ‘effect’ of our living force us to the ‘affect’ that brings dynamic ‘change or do we choose affects that make others effect the changes we want?

Yeah, I know…a pretty heavy philosophical question for a bunch of occupied minds that are still killing off brain cells, flooding your blood with alcohol baths of beer, wine and whiskey.

Take another drink, I’ll illustrate this for you. Lets say you want your social drinking environment to have a younger crowd of prettier women to hit on, so you actively recruit young ladies from other establishments to enter into your ‘bar’ for drinks and liaisons’.

You find your success is short lived because the drinking environment you have brought them into is not at all friendly or conducive to their social norms, aggravating you. So what do you do? How do you make a short term fix in your environment to make the ‘new’ element comfortable enough to stay around, an environment that could be fun if it wasn’t for things in your own yesterday’s that have not been dealt with?

It was Monday Night last week when Bossman had hijacked a whole crew of young women from a late night pool hall down the street from the ‘game bar’ where the old crew hangs out. Bossman had figured the way to get them and keep them was with a hot young stud that could kind of keep their attention while some older boy’s made their play on the rest of the pack. Nice strategy in theory, in practice a whole different story.

Bossman’s wing man and ‘ace beau coup’ ‘Isley’, had helped him bring in a bunch of fine young ladies, some just 21 years of age (I THINK) into the ‘game’ establishment and things were going well for awhile, the young things got comfortable with the money and attention the old boys spent on them lavishly with lascivious intent. Then yesterday intruded with an innocuous phone call made to yours truly by ‘accident’, or so she said.

Back in August, Emily looked like Paris Hilton doing her best Daisy Duke impression (shorts, open shirt, long bare legs and big tits) but coming off somewhere between a Soho seducer and a committable coke freak. During that memorable evening (see blog entry ‘Bad Moon, Good Dreams and the Summer End Part 1’) she got money and attention from Bossman, Devin, and a few others including Slim, who ended up with her for a threesome at Slim’s deluxe dwelling place. Now Emily was on the phone.

Emily said “Slim is that you?” “No Emily, its RJ, you dialed the wrong number” “Sorry RJ, I’m looking for Slim….where are you?” “At the game Emily” “Is Bossman there RJ?” “No Emily” “Is Slim there RJ” “I haven’t seen him…try calling him Emily”… At that moment Slim opened his big mouth, he hit a box for Monday Night Football.

“Hey…that’s Slim, I know his voice RJ.” “Yep thats Slim, must have been hiding in the basement, hold on…”

I just gave my phone to Slim and said, “It’ s Emily” as Slim shook his head to disavow his presence I said, “she heard you!”

About then Devin’s head snapped to the sound of Emily’s name and Bossman who was there and surrounded by young ladies looked like someone had invoked the presence of Satan at hearing Emily’s name.

As Slim said that no one was at the ‘game’ and it was a dead night pleading to Emily not to come and see him, I saw beads of sweat run from his forehead. As he got off the phone he came to me and said to never tell Emily where he was again. I said, “I didn’t you did…as I was walking out the door she heard your big mouth when you hit the halftime box score.” Slim put his hands behind his head and pushed it into the wall as he called the name of Jesus.

Yaega Lee asked Slim what was going on when Mr. Clean showed up. Everybody was calm and the night went on when about half hour had passed after Emily’s call. Slim had one of the young ladies from the pool hall on his lap and he was describing to her his luscious living accommodations when the bombshell rolled through the back door. Emily had arrived.

The night was cool but Emily didn’t let that stop her from dressing like a Bimbette from Battery Park. Her dark blouse and white nylon undershirt did not conceal her hard erect nipples, the tight dark pants and the open toe fm whore boots left little doubt why she was here. Emily has a Hollywood face and a hot body, but her mind is a smut film and her soul possessed by lust. What she would do in the next 15 minutes was cold and wild.

What happens now?

Does Emily try to pick up Slim? Does Emily try to pick up Bossman?

Does Isley go home with Emily? What happens to the hot young things already around Isley, Slim, Bossman and the other old boys? What does Slim do? What does Isley do? What does Bossman do?

Look out for part 2.

RJ

Christmas

To All Our Devoted Readers and You Too....

Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year. I hope the blessings of prosperity and God's Peace are upon you and your families.

Take Care!

From The Happeningz Staff

A Total Eclipse Of The Fool’s

A Total Eclipse Of The Fool’s

Prelude: I sometimes disappear down a sidestreet in Woodmere to have a drink sometimes and visit Ruby. Knowing how law enforcement works especially during a full moon always has me warning my bartenders to watch themselves and to watch out for the crowd…even regulars get stupid during a full moon.

But Friday was different, it was the night before the last Total Lunar Eclipse of 2011.

What makes this different? People do stupider shit than they would when sober. Worse, people take emotions like anger, loneliness, hate, love, lust, boldness and idiocy to levels not approached during any given normal day in the course of a normal life. Examples: Little girl claims she was kidnapped by niggers and was going to be killed unless mommy and daddy came up with six figure cash. Needless to say she was found safe and sound – no niggers.

Nigger from Greensboro, N.C. let out of court on a technicality kills a NYC Police Officer, a single dad trying to raise his four girls by himself. Nigger lives.

A 17 year old boy is found handcuffed to a bed, cops wait and his teacher shows up with an enema, ky-jelly, a whip and Viagra. Does weird shit happen in the prelude to a Total Lunar Eclipse? The following is from Ruby. After you read this you tell me if the world is different when sun, planet and moon align.

When I told Ruby of the impending lunacy, one of her regulars asked me if I was a ‘prophet’ and I told him, “no, I just know history and its going to repeat itself tonight”. I was there when the white limo pulled up, I saw the driver open the back door, I saw a woman’s head in a man’s crotch with his pant’s pulled down. I saw patrons running out into the street with open beer while locals made their way down the street from temple, it was the Sabbath.

I saw the face of the locals as they passed by the bar, they saw the limo and the patrons running to it. That is when I left. I knew what was coming next. You didn’t need to be Nostradamus to figure this out. Here is Ruby’s story of what happened next…..

This post is by Ruby!

So, to begin, my Friday night started of nicely. It was calm and that's the way I would love it to be all night but it never works out for me.

I had most of the 13 chairs in the bar filled by 10:00 and I was happy. A white, stretch limo pulled up in front of the bar (ridiculous, I should have taken a picture of this huge vehicle parked in front of the tiny bar) and a guy got out and

came into the bar. Mind you, this person was one of the old day’s crew customers and perfectly welcome, that is until he invited most of the customers in my bar to go to the city in the limo with him. Needless to say, he emptied the bar out but I still wasn't going to complain because I knew what was still to come.

It was quiet for a while after that. Friday night regulars were arriving sporadically and even though it wasn't packed as usual I was still happy with the business I had.

I remember the limo coming back with the people it left with and then the night became a blur. Some friends of friends at the bar showed up. They were all very nice, paid for their drinks, tipped me well so still no complaints on my end.

Suddenly, I see these guys hanging outside the bar but not in front. They had turned around and did the stupidest thing I've ever seen. They parked their mini-van in front of the fire house, opened the driver’s side sliding rear door and were just sitting or standing by the van. I had one of their friends go outside to tell them to move the car from in front of the fire house because, and this is a well known fact, most volunteer firemen are Nassau County cops.

A minute later who shows up? That's right, the police. Can you say "overkill"? One patrol car turned into 6 or 7 and they asked the driver of the mini-van to proceed into the parking lot across the street. No sooner than it took to put the mini-van into drive and obey the police request to drive into the lot the police turned their flashing lights on and sounded their siren, as if the driver of the van was trying to run (he wasn't).

As I watched this scene a nauseous feeling crept into my stomach, same as usual when I see the police at my bar on my shift. Fifteen minutes later a puffed up looking cop comes into the bar. He asked me if I had seen these guys (the ones they pulled over) in the bar. In all honesty I answered, "Not all of them were in the bar officer and I couldn't tell you which ones weren't".

His answer to me was this:

"Is this the way we're going with this because I'll have all your customers against the back wall for a license check. Who knows what else we'll find in this bar".

At this exact moment I knew I had to tell him what he wanted to hear just to spare the rest of the customers the total humiliation of the so called "license check". (We’ll get into that at a later date, it's not fun and never ends well).

Horrified, I told the officer I had seen the driver in the bar. (stupid cop, this was the designated driver for his group so of course I didn't see him in the bar). I lied and told him what he wanted to hear because that's what saved the rest of us.

He said, "Very good, Ruby", and exited the bar so he could try to get the driver for whatever. Feeling like a piece of crap, I apologized to the drivers' brother who was in the bar and explained why I did what I did. Thankfully and mercifully he agreed with me and told me I did the right thing by sacrificing the one for the good of the many.

I'm still alive..............go figure. It turned out that they couldn't get the driver for DWI because he wasn't drinking, they didn't find any other illegal things in his vehicle and the most they could ticket him for was parking in a "no parking" zone. Never park on the same side of the street as a fire house; it's just not a good thing to do especially if there is a bar across the street.

I must say this though, now that they couldn't get the van driver for anything they will be taking it out on me on my Friday night shift because they feel stupid. They stayed until I closed up (and I stayed till 4 a.m. on purpose). I've had a previous conversation with the police about hanging around after 4 to entrap people coming out of the bar and driving home. The smart people left their cars in the lot and took cabs home knowing that their cars were safe until the next day when they could pick them up without worrying about getting a DWI.

In closing here are a few words from bartenders all over New York: Hey Cop, Bartenders are not the enemy!!

Ruby

Saving Something to Suck On

Lucky was adamant, defiant, desperate and somewhat deviant.

“I’m telling you Fran, your not having a breast lift, breast reduction or any other surgery on your tits. I’ll chain you up, take away your laptop and have you declared ‘incompetent’ in a court of law.”

Fran immediately locked herself in the bathroom and started shouting incoherently. Lucky said, “You better not damage those tits.” Lucky then opened a bottle of Jack Daniels black label and drank.

After having only a half a bottle left to contemplate the matter further, Lucky called N.F. to discuss his problem.

“Look Lucky, check out the dangers involved in having the procedure from credible doctors who do that kind of surgery, get stats, get facts, then get in Fran’s face, Jersey girls understand confrontation…if that doesn’t change her mind then chain her ass in the basement and use your meat stick to chastise the bitch. Got It!”

Lucky, a Senior Management type at a major air freight company actually knows a woman executive who had the procedure. Lucky sent her an e-mail. What he found out blew his mind. The female exec, Gail had her surgery done by one of the best plastic surgeons in the United States. The following is what Gail told Lucky at work the following day.

“As you know I represent the company travelling all over the world and I can’t look bad. Yeah, I party, I used to smoke about a pack and a half a day but now I can run like the wind. Well I noticed after the surgery my nipples were turning purple. So I went to see my surgeon who told me that smoking will cause my nipples to fall off.” Lucky’s eyes lit up and mouth dropped. “What? How did that happen? What did the Doctor do to help you?”

“Dr. ‘Goodfrey’ (not real name) has been in practice with his brother in Manhattan since the early 80’s. The Doctor said that cigarette smoke acts like a virtual tourniquet restricting blood flow to the smaller extremities of your body, fingers, toes, nipples…which causes the body part to lose blood flow, first it turns purple, if untreated then turns black and then it gets cut off.”

Lucky asked, “You still have your nipples, don’t you Gail?” “Yeah, wanna see Lucky?” She then flashed him in the hallway outside her office. Lucky smiled and got visibly excited (erection) but maintained his chain of thought. “What did the Doctor do to save your nipples Gail?” “It was gross Lucky, I was in the hospital for three days, he used leeches on my tits.” Lucky cringed. “What, no way…really Gail?”

“Yeah Lucky, the leeches got blood back to the nipples and my body started to produced new blood vessels. Of course, I had to stop smoking.”

Lucky asked, “do you have documentation of these side effects or dangers in the surgery you had and would you mind sharing it with me?” Gail said, “of course I’ll share it with you and get you written documentation from my doctor on his warnings to patients regarding plastic surgery of any kind.”

Lucky asked, “By the way Gail, how did you stop smoking?” Gail, not at all shy said, “I found a lot of other things to suck on, sugar daddies, lollipops, hard candy sticks and cock.” Lucky grinned like he hit the sex lottery and proceeded to get the info from Gail and when the weekend came he dropped it on Fran like a nuke. Lucky got his desired result.

Fran decided not to have the surgery (Fran smokes a pack a day) but got Lucky to spend about a thousand bucks on exercise equipment. Fran said that she would work out to get her tits to stay up and get her stomach flat.

Fran also said, “I need to find a way to stop smoking…RJ convinced me that cigarettes are not at all what tobacco is supposed to be. Do you think I should see a doctor to get on the patch Lucky?”

Lucky, drinking straight from the bottle said, “No sugar, all you need is something else to suck on…” Needless to say Lucky did not get any ‘sugar’ that night.

http://thechart.blogs.cnn.com/2011/12/05/smoking-can-make-your-nipples-fall-off/?hpt=hp_bn10

RJ

Dirty Secret Of Nasty Middle Aged Men

Nasty Middle Aged Men (or Andropause and the real reason for fucked up individuals)

“Why is it that everything from nightlife to real life is blamed on women and menopause?”

Candy looked me in the eyes and asked again, “why?” I took my time to think about the answer as we sat in at my North Baldwin hangout while “G” poured us a round of drinks to take the edge off what was a bad week.

Candy folded her arms and opened her eyes wider, with the intensity of the high beams on a tractor trailer and just as agitating. “Well do you have an answer Mr. No-It-All or are you just going to try to sell the one sided silly assed argument that all of man’s problems are based on a woman’s period RJ?” I said, “look, men have their mid life crisis but I’m not sure if it’s in reaction to menopause or if it’s something in a man’s aging process, but I will find out Candy.”

Thankfully for me Doc was in the establishment and saw me being stared down like a punk in front of the school bully. Doc jumped in, “it’s called ‘andropause’ RJ.” “What exactly is that Doc?” (Candy now focused on Doc with the high beams off, and about six other patrons listened up) “Just as women get moody, bitchy, nasty and sometimes even dangerous during menopause men go through mood swings during ‘andropause.’”

Doc took a sip of his cranberry and vodka then continued, “Many men after 40 experience a steady decline in their testosterone levels by as much as 1 to 2% per year. By the time a man is in his 50’s this effects him, some men are effected physically in very negative ways other are effected in psychological ways either way it is a know problem with men aging and there are many ways to deal with it.”

Candy spoke up “so Doc, men have their version of ‘menopause’ and they get just as crazy as women do, don’t they?” Doc said, “I wouldn’t put it in those words and please don’t put words in my mouth…but men are just as likely if not more to experience physical and/or psychological problems if they do not deal with their own ‘moodiness’.”

Billy Mac, a big time boat owner at the end of the bar asked Doc, “How does a guy know he has some kind of ‘mood’ or attitude problem over that much time.” “Ask your wife or girl friend, if you don’t have a wife or girlfriend or your girlfriend or wife has flat left you for what seems no apparent reason you might want to see a Doctor.”

Remy, a middle aged black man who has lived in the neighborhood since grade school put his questions out there for Doc. “I thought it was ‘roid rage’ that made guys go nuts, not ‘low- t’?” About now “G” took food and drink orders, had drinks poured for everyone and slipped Doc a back up as Doc continued his bar side seminar.

“’Roid rage’ is from attempting to compensate for lack of sexual performance with steroids or non-prescription testosterone treatments from quacks or medical facilities outside the United States. The real problem is low testosterone and the changes it makes on a man’s body.” Candy asked, “How does a man know he has a low testosterone problem other than the fact he’s in his 50’s overweight and nasty?”

“Doc took another taste of his drink and said, “He’s got to get his blood tested and tell his Doctor about his life, that’s the only way anyone is going to know what’s going on, both the Doctor and his patient…a guy has got to get tested.” Billy Mac asked, “What are the symptoms of low-t and how does a man know he’s got it?” Doc said, “There are all kinds of ways but a few things stand out:

Obesity, diabetes, high blood pressure and/or depression can be a marker for low testosterone, some Doctors and Researchers believe that low –t can bring on some of these physical problems.” “So how does a guy handle this without going to the doctor” asked another 40ish dude who really didn’t want to hear about this topic anymore.

Doc said, “You can by bigger boats, faster cars, find looser women, super sluts on roller skates, get a cocaine habit, smoke like a chimney, get a new wardrobe, wear a diamond earring, buy better herb, seduce teenage girls or get penis extension surgery. But you will never solve the problem unless you see a Doctor.” Doc went on to point out that men are too proud to admit they have problems and avoid needed medical or psychological help.

Candy looked at me like an inmate and started talking to me like a psych patient in a rubber room. “Have you had your testosterone levels checked, are you sure your moodiness is not related to your diminishing manhood, are you sure your taking the right medications, do you need a hug RJ?” As the wave of aggravation passed, I answered with some sarcasm, “No, not right now, but what I would like is that you bend over and let me totally appreciate your ass.”

“What the hell do you mean by that RJ?” “Maybe it would raise my testosterone levels if you believe I’m in some stage of ‘andropause’.” Candy cooled off a little and we went back to drinking. A lot of guys were not happy with Doc, but women at the bar backed him up all day and the rest of the night with his favorite libation. But the point had been made, it’s not all the ‘woman’s’ fault that physical complications show up in relationships.

A while ago I had my Doctor check me out and noticed that I was nearing but not quite in a low –T problem. I was referred to another MD, a female who was really great looking who gave me tests to see if I had problems with getting and maintaining erections from a purely physical view (no problems at all).

But the woman MD said that was only some of the problem. “Most of the dysfunction with men is psychological; stress, poor sleep and/or bad diet also contribute to a man’s mood, most men’s sex drive is determined by their self esteem…financial problems or poor relationship skills can also cause anxiety, anger and disassociation.” Most guys would not even think about seeing a shrink.

But I found out that’s exactly what it might take, most sex takes place between the ears, and if you don’t get your thinking head right your little head won’t stay hard. (When I said most sex takes place between the ears I was referring to imagination and expectation, not trying to fuck your partners face or lose your load between her lips).

Billy Mac left that night with a ‘girl’ half his age. They got in his Jag and took off for who knows where. But he did make a comment that made sense to me. “If your dick is small and limp make sure your wallet is big and stiff.”

And that is why ‘andropause’ is more dangerous than menopause. If you have a small dick and no cash your only choice is to kill yourself or become a politician.

http://men.webmd.com/features/low-testosterone-explained-how-do-you-know-when-levels-are-too-low, Low Testosterone Explained: How Do You Know When Levels Are Too Low?

RJ