They call me horrendous company. What a load of crap. It's amazing how people manage to make themselves look good and shamelessly discredit the opposition when telling their side of the story. I'm sure those xenophobic goons in 1940s Germany had a good story when they were made to pay for what they did. My name is Alex Des-Pres. A big and tall young Black ma...
Hello, there. My name is Thomas James Des-Champs, T.J. to my friends, and I'm a six-foot-two, lean and mean, brown-skinned and black-haired, ruggedly handsome gentleman of the Haitian persuasion. I hail from the City of Cap-Haitien, in Northern Haiti. Way down in the Caribbean. I'm a former police officer and car mechanic by trade, but my avocation is hun...
I submit this work in the form of a dialogue relating to censorship and bigotry, an all to common occurrence in the workplace and our lives. * "You can't put that up in here Sonny." "What?" "That! It's a piece of filth 'init. You can't hang that up in here." "Want to watch me? This work is part of the exhibition." "I don't care if it's part of the blee...
BethyBoo is proud to present this audio rendition of 'Mine.' Written by BethyBoo and read for you today by Photoman4u2. And now...MINE. * * * * * Click Here to listen. (16 min/mp3) * * * * * Grab a drink, sit back, get comfortable and close your eyes. Let your imagination go free as I tell you a tale. This story is about no one in particular, but if you...
Exhausted from a long day at the office, Mandy steps onto the train to go home. Usually she rides the earlier train which is extremely crowded, but about twice a week something comes up at work so she stays later. This late train is not exactly deserted, but she can usually get her own seat without a lot of people near her. This is perfect for Mandy. She is...
The traveler made his way up the darkened stairwell, careful not to disturb the layers of dust and cobwebs that had built up over the years. The building had been abandoned for years, probably even decades in fact. He had never so much as set foot inside this building before, and yet, it was as if he somehow knew his way. And so he carried on, curious to kno...
Until the day I die, I will fight you bozos. Seriously. My name is Eric Wahid, and I'm a guy with problems. I was born in the City of Nabatieh, Republic of Lebanon, in early February 1987. My father Joseph Wahid is Ethiopian and my mother Catherine Al-Mansur is Lebanese, of Maronite Christian extraction. I lived an ordinary life in the City of Beirut with my...
Part 4 - Carmella, Donna, and my Erector Set ________ I must stop for a moment to make a few very important points in my defense. Please don't misjudge me. I realize that much of the personal fantasy I've been describing—and will continue to describe in future installments—may come across to some as having underpinnings of abuse or disregard toward these...
When Master told me to get into his car naked, it was nothing new; he'd often take me for a drive in the busy streets naked, giving me no option but to embrace the startled—sometimes lustful sometimes disgusted—glares of drivers and pedestrians. In the beginning, I often wondered why I stayed with Master; what compelled me to agree on doing all the things...
God, another aisle of Midwestern, north woods, "gone fishin'" kitsch. Stanton harbored a roiling caldron of irritation for pulling off the interstate. The billboards boasted the best antiques in the state, but the tiny, central Wisconsin town offered a meager two shops. While it felt good to stretch his legs, the promising detour appeared to be a waste of ti...