Skeletons in my closet

The silent running dialogue that I often have with myself.

Friday, January 20, 2006


I closed the car door lightly. I was unfamiliar with the neighborhood and I wasn’t trying to attract “The Ropers”. Nah, no one could witness this mission I was about to go on. I was not unhappy with my current situation, hell sometimes you have to adapt to succeed or persevere.


I was in one of my drought seasons. We have all had them, even the best of us. A time in my life when my old cast and crew no longer favor me, nor have I started taping a new season. I was on hiatus if you will. But I had been given an offer that was hard to turn down, “String Free Puzzy”. Now I know all puzzy comes with strings but this was a time when I was positive I could quickly cut any ties.

Ole Girl wasn’t all that bad. She just didn’t seem to try hard enough. Her hair was think and long. Most of the length was unhealthy split ends.

Don’t ask me how I know this kinda stuff, but I really love long pretty hair…its my thing.

Her body style was thick, not juicy hit that thick, but pick some cotton, toil in the field thick. I imagine that when the whoppers went on sale for $0.99, it just took whatever figure she had left. But her breast, her full, ample, nurturing, suckling breast. She had an ample bussom and that may have been all that was needed to push me over the edge. She was not a full time star, she wasn’t that material, she didn’t get the hair done enough, or keep up with the latest style in clothing. She had a very “accept me for who I am” attitude and it just wasn’t working for her.

We had several brief introduction type encounters before she actually struck up a real conversation. We frequented the same establishment at happy hour on Thursday so I imagine she had been working her scheme out for quite some time.

Her approach was basic and upfront. I appreciate that, tell me what you want, woman up!
“Its kinda slow in here tonight” She grinned and leaned forward as these words and her chest fell towards me.

“Yeah, it’s the rain of the threat of rain, but the drinks are still wet, so I am good.” I countered, but I couldn’t tell what or where she was coming from, so I played along with light conversation.

“Hmm, you coming home with me? Seeing as how you don’t have anybody else to occupy your time.”

My heart fell as my libido rose, I didn’t want to do this but the girl had a point. I stumbled forward quietly into her trap.
“Home with you, tonight, why?… “I couldn’t bare myself, the thought but I knew what I was going to do.
She countered not to eager to press her advance, “Just think about it, talk to me before you leave tonight”

She left me an avenue of exit that would save both her pride and my reputation. If I stayed longer than she did, then I wouldn’t have to take up her offer, without not taking her up on her offer. But My Man, with the help of Mr. Crown, got the best of me. I softly approached her a few hours later and motioned with a head jerk and a nod that I would follow her.

Now I was in front of her place. She was already inside, as I had to leave once already to pick up some essentials. I walked slowly as I reached her door. Before I knocked the door drifted open and I stepped inside. Her apartment was small, but fully decorated, pink and green was everywhere. I noticed the big screen TV in the corner and I was instantly pissed.

What does a broad need with a big screen TV. Damn, I mean but for bad credit, a drinking habit, and an indulgence in women I would have one too.

The front door opened directly in front of a small stairway. I stood there as my eyes adjusted to the darkness and unaware of the chief occupants location. She called out to me coyly, “If you scared say you scared!”

“I just don’t want to step on none of these dolls and figurines all over the place, what is this a shrine to AKA.” I stumbled forward removing my jacket as I located the source of this now husky sinuous voice. I glanced up the stairway and paused, she stood at the top of the stair way in a sheer robe, and pumps.

I admit the effort was appealing, but I was still having doubts. What if someone found out, what if she told people? It was a classic battle, my ego versus my libido.

Somehow I ended up in her bed talking. Not surprisingly her conversation was good, she listened reacted laughed even showed some humor herself. My ego was winning and I was turning this sordid scene into a friendly cuddle session. Then she and he struck.

During a break in the convo as I attempted to drift off to sleep, she popped out one of her mammoth titties and placed an enormous nipple areola combination into my mouth. What could I do I was obligated to suck it, and I did, and once that happen the My Man took over. I went through all the fly positions, my head under her leg under her arm under her toe. I was ready, and her moans seriously upgraded a otherwise untenable situation.

She pulled me to her, plunging her tongue into my mouth, sucking my lips otherwise engulfing me. It was way to much, those kinda kisses should be reserved for your man. I pulled away and laid on my back facing her (the universal sign for ‘give me some head’). She followed the contexts clues and positioned herself in front of me, a flick of her tongue made me fearful and anxious at the same time. I had not noticed before the length of her tongue and well it was scary. On top of that her tongue had no fear, it traipsed through places I often fear to tread. I was so impressed and told her that she was doing an outstanding job.

It may have come out more like, “Oh, shyte…baby…damn” Can you blame me, okay, you go home to your man and performing the following: DeepThroat while your tongue is displaced licking balls at the same time.

I pulled away not wanting my excitement to sputter fourth. I repositioned her on the bed and pulled out one of my essentials. (see above) In a one hand move I was set and ready for action. She lifted her legs and spread her lips. (The universal sign for ‘eat my puzzy’) I ignored her request and steadied My Man for his work. My Man steadied himself and began his dance.

One of my favorite beginning moves is the slow entry. It requires skill, patience and a certain amount of guile. You better know what you doing if you pull the slow entry move, because if the longest part of your performance is the entry you will get talked about.

So as I kneeled in front of her essence and slowly, deliberately delivered My Man, she threw a galvanized, steel, 8” monkey wrench in the works. She swallowed. That is the best way I can describe it. Somehow through tantric powers undiscovered by mere mortals she pulled me forward. Yes her ‘cunt’ (ooowww, yeah I know gross) pulled me forward. I resisted, I held my position. I engaged in a sex organ tug of war. But two swallows later I was inside her.

1 minute and counting:
How dare she change my style. I run this not the other way around. My visage of anger quickly changed to worry as I realized that tug of war not only served as a climatic battle of wills but it also had hastened my own climatic end. I grimaced, I fought, I steadied my self against the callings of MY MANS request for sweet release. It was good puzzy. It was great puzzy. It moved, and grinded, hiccupped, spun, vibrated. It was magical. I had never met anyone with that kinda puzzy control. I was impressed and disappointed at the same time. Why couldn’t the chic be a damn knock out? Further if things continued at this fluid pace I wouldn’t be getting any second chances.

2 Minutes and Counting:

My ego popped up and set himself smugly on her pillow.

Ego: Now you done it!
ClosetOwner: Done what, I done nothing yet…if you not going to help, leave.
EGO: You fucked a fat girl and you did so pathetically.
ClosetOwner: First she aint fat, second, it aint over till its over.
EGO: Yeah, its over, now you goin have a fat girl telling people you aint got no skills…I tried to warn you.
ClosetOwner: Well, so its your damn fault anyway.
My Man: Excuse me, but you two bitches need to stop arguing…I have an idea…

2 minutes and 30 seconds and counting.

I felt the rush of my impending doom. I gave in! I thrust and parried Olympic style. I was there in mere minutes. But I didn’t shudder, or grunt, I didn’t fall out, or exclaim. I stopped in mid thrust and recited a classic line that I heard often in my youth.

“We Shouldn’t be doing this!”

It was classic. I sat on the edge of the bed hiding any signs of my premature actions. She went through the usually, “whats wrongs”, and the “we grown”, and the “You don’t find me attractive.”

I left her with another classic line that I have never been able to use again.

“I am trying to about more than just sex, sometimes it leaves me feeling empty, and I don’t want to associate you with that feeling”

I walked quickly to her Hollywood bathroom and cleaned up the evidence. I lay down next to her and continued our conversation. It was a good thing I had the 3pack cause once Ego, My Man, and Me are on the same page we are hell to deal with.

Thursday, January 19, 2006

Under Quarantine

Day 2

Under quarantine!

Yesterday afternoon, I left work early because of my illness. I informed my wife that I was headed home and she immediately issued instructions.

I slept off and on for the remainder of the afternoon.

I did continue my downward spiral into television addiction. LOST, and American Idol were the latest eightballs on my nervous sweating junkie low trance.

I don’t really get this show. I have been watching it off and on for the last year now. My Mom really tried to get me into it, so for her sake I begrudgingly watch. The acting isn’t all that good, the characters are not all that interesting, I really wonder why I watch this show. Then it dawned on me. It is so confusing, so mixed up, so perplexing, I watch it to see how it ends. That is the sole reason that I believe most people watch the show, to see what the hell was going on in the final analysis.

Never watch a show just because you want to see how it ends. It is a waste of an hour or so out of your life. Just think, if we were watching porn and the people were unattractive, and the sex scene was blasé, would you skip to the next scene of would you fast forward to the money shot. Okay, bad example, I am tripping on this medicine.

American Idol

I have never like this show. I do not care to watch hours of footage of people who cant sing. What is the point, to laugh at people, to participate in some mean spirited TV heckling? My wife and daughter love the show. I hear their laughter and cheers from the other room.

Alas, I am done with network TV for the night, I am off to either sleep or some soft porn on Cinemax.

I wrote that post last night, sense that time I have some new developments.

I am 90% at full health. Don’t ask me, I guess it was a bug or sinuses. I never had sinus problems before but a Dr. told me that you can develop them at any time. Then combine that with the fact that I live in South Louisiana, aka the Chemical Corridor, aka Cancer Alley. How do you tell the difference between sinus problems and a cold.

Oh well I feel better, I am at work, but I think I will milk being sick for a little while longer.

As I was getting dressed this morning I realized, that my son stares at me a lot and smiles. It is the cutest thing, and I am not a neegro that recognizes cute. He chews on his hand, slobbers, and stares at his Dad, with the occasional smile. I think he is a keeper.

Hotness for the press on Friday.

Freaky Friday. So anyone with a religious conviction, or on the abstinence wagon, you might want to steer clear on Friday.

Wednesday, January 18, 2006


Damn, I am not sure what is going on. I was sick as a dog last night, fever, sweats, congestion. I woke up this morning and damn near felt like myself.

So I decided to bring it on in to work! Mistake number 1. I am still sick. My fever is gone but man I am not 100%.

I had the flu last year and this feels remarkably similar.

As I lay in my partial vegetative state last night my mind flowed freely from dreamscapes to reality, I realized something. I have it pretty good.

I really should be more thankful and expressive. I was laying here feeling miserable. Yet, I was propped up in a nice queen size bed, 600 thread count sheets, with way too many pillows for a grown man to deal with. My daughter made me a card, and yes she is 11 but she still loves me. Even my son seemed like he was concerned for my health. He stared blanckly at me from across the room. In his mind I just know he was saying "Stay up Pops"
I was under quarantine until the exact nature of my illness was determined. My wife would flit in and out checking on my health. She loves me.

While awake I spent my time watching DirecTV, and listening to the sounds of life just outside my door. I am a new addict for that show 24. It was edge of your seat action. Nice! That show The Shield seems like it could be good also.

I am doing so much it is really hard to find time to watch TV.

Even though I was feeling bad, I still got my exercise on. I think that is what pushed me over the edge. However, my stomach is going down, and my stamina is going up. I really feel a sense of accomplishment. It is really something addictive about exercise.

I completed lesson 5-10 of Play Guitar Today. I am getting better everyday. By this summer I will be able to play for real. Or at least play Happy Birthday for my wife and daughters on their respective days.

The job hunt is really showing promise. I have an interview next week with a big firm. A boy bout to get paid…Drinks on me once the job is a done deal.

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

Monday Rant

I really hope everyone did something Kingish to celebrate the holiday.

I mean we all have an obligation to continue the struggle for civil rights, justice and equality among all men and women.

Hell even stupid people have a right to be heard and allowed to be a important part of America.

Take for instance:

On a day that speaks of acceptance, humility, diversity, and a erasure of color and class barriers, the Mayor of New Orleans Louisiana was quoted with saying the following;”

It’s time for us to rebuild New Orleans — the one that should be a chocolate New Orleans. This city will be a majority African-American city. It’s the way God wants it to be. You can’t have New Orleans no other way. It wouldn’t be New Orleans.”

This future Mensa candidate goes on to drop these pearls of wisdom.

“Surely God is mad at America. He sent us hurricane after hurricane after hurricane, and it’s destroyed and put stress on this country. Surely he doesn’t approve of us being in Iraq under false pretenses. But surely he is upset at black America also. We’re not taking care of ourselves”

Sadly, some people really truly think this way. However, none of those clowns are mayors of major metropolitan cities. Of all days on the calendar, how do you “fix yo mouth” to say something so racist, so divisive, so controversial, so against what MLK had in mind. Dude is a damn fool. Better yet a damn fool Mayor.

Now, I know the argument that the hand god had in all of this will continue for years to come. I am even pretty sure god is upset with America and black people in general. Hell, all his children who turn away from his teachings probably get him a little perturbed. But if God is surely mad at America, and Blacks in America more succinctly…It is time for ya boy to move to another country and hurry up and get some Micheal Jackson treatment.

Wow, poor New Orleans. Now how does the mayor suggest that federal dollars poor in to help American citizens as long as those citizens are black. Yeah, I can just see all those republican congressmen chomping at the bit to poor dollars into a black New Orleans.

Further, for those of you who don’t know, New Orleans was a great place to visit, but between the struggles with corruption:
1. Several of the past Mayors,
2. Several recent Judges,
3. The City Court and the Mayors Office System,
4. The Orleans Parish School Board,
5. The Orleans Parish Assessors Office
Police brutality, teen pregnancy, failing Healthcare System, disenfranchised, and impoverished African Americans, it might not have been the ideal place to raise a family.

But I digress; because every apple has bruises, and New Orleans can turn that impassable corner and set there ship to right. If they can get this latest yoke from around there neck.

In the most needy of times, after the most trying of circumstances, a city of people, a city of Americans, must be lead from a biblical disaster into the future by a damn idiot savant. A savant whose special talent is sticking his foot in his mouth.