Friday, July 15, 2011

A Haircut and A Hooker



"Do the calculus." said Cholly Delarie. Snip, snip he went, his deft fingers semi-circling Gian Antonio's left ear as he continued, "Do the calculus." Not that Cholly knew a darn thing about calculus. Back in his day, tenth grade dropouts did not study calculus. Nothing changes there. As a rule, tenth grade dropouts today still don't know calculus, nor much other math for that matter.

Gian and Cholly went way back to the eighth grade (Sister Matthew's class). Just kids then, the two of them have been buddies forever. Sometimes it's like that, best friends for life concretize in childhood.

"But Cholly, Obama is getting the tar kicked out of him... those Republicans are piranhas."


"Look, Tittie, the numbers don't add up. Even if these fools raise the debt ceiling again (for the 30th time), so what, a country can't continue to live beyond it's means." Cholly was always doing the numbers, the calculus as he puts it. He continued, "Obama's gotta tighten the belt, get us out of those wars, stop giving money away to Afghanistan and Iraq and he has to raise taxes. The country needs revenue. revenue is down..."

Gian Antonio hated being called Tittie but he had the misfortune of have puffy pubertal breasts when he was 14 and the name, Tittie, stuck with him. He should have never taken his shirt off in the skins versus shirts playground pick up B-ball game. Even his wife, Evelyn, called him Tittie, well she did, until she divorced him. After the split, she called him Dummy. For good reason, Dummy.


"Yeah Cholly, I hear you, but there's certain things you can't touch. Medicare for one. But Obama now has agreed to raise the age of eligibility to 67 and he has also decided that people who make too much money will have their Medicare benefits sliced." Tittie looked at himself in the mirror as Cholly had now moved over to the right ear.

"Well don't worry about that buddy-boy. Between us we don't make enough money to hit a ticket of $175,000 a year. People, who make that kind of kincaid, can pay. Let 'em pay through the nose, the bastards."

Tittie was still a handsome man; trim, salt and pepper, good chin and clear eyes. Plus, he still worked down below. With 50 mg of Viagra, he could still pop three times a night. Malea, his regular Filipina hooker, liked to do him. Sure he was a payday, but some guys are better humps than others. Malea would always throw in free oral or anal for her good customers. Ironically, Malea has terrific puffy nipples. For Tittie, Malea's nipples were a reward of sorts. After all...


"Yeah" intoned Tittie, "But if a guy paid into Medicare all his life, he's entitled. It's wrong to jerk him around just because he is a good earner. Just because a man generates, he should not be punished. That's un-American."

"Can't really disagree with you, but the country is in a jam. Gotta get the juice from somewhere..." Cholly loved to talk and being a barber, he talked and talked. Through the years he had shrunk and now if he was 5 feet tall, he would be stretching the truth. Nonetheless, he  had a big heart and a bright yellow toothed smile.

"Wanna shave?"

"No, too early. I'll stop back at 5 for a close one. If you're still here...?"

"Yup, be here till 6. Gotta go out to the nursing home tonight." Cholly's 92 year old mother was still alive, although she hasn't recognized him in 10 years. The facility was only a mile away off of Rt 88. Cholly Delaire was always a good boy and he visited Nellie Delaire every Thursday night. Besides Nellie, Cholly had no other family. Sad really. And he didn't have a hooker to help him.

Too bad for that. Hookers are commodities of inestimable value. Here's why...
  • A hooker never makes a guy feel bad
  • Or inadequate
  • Or too small
  • Or too fat or smelly
  • Treat a hooker right and she'll do the same thing double over
  • There are no strings
  • No obligations
  • A hooker is always happy to see a john
  • It's all cash, no pretense and no extended obligations
  • A hooker does not care if a guy watches football
  • Or wears his socks
  • And a hooker's work in not over until the customer cums...
  • A hooker lives to service the customer!
As Tittie walked out of the door onto Enterprise Street, the sun was up enough to cast long shadows on the ground. It was only 8 AM. With nothing to do until noon, when he had to go over to his schyster's office and sign the final divorce papers, Tittie decided to pop 50 mg. He knew that within a hour he would feel that pleasant pressure in his head. He hit up his iPhone and he texted...

up?
Y, in bed
alone?
Y, want it, don't you?
omg, do i
ok ok be here at 9
kk

Tittie wanted to eat, but he skipped the eggs and the bacon. He knew fat interferes with the absorption of Viagra, so he settled for an apple juice and a black coffee. The last year for Gian had been the worst. Evelyn had taken up with the neighbor-man, Bob, and that was it. She declared one day twelve months ago, out of nowhere, that she wanted her husband of 30 years out. The fool that he is, Gian Antonio did get out... he left with nothing! He left her everything. Who could blame him, when it goes bad with a woman, what man wants any of the marital busy stuff anyways? Who could blame him? Ummm... He was nuts to give her everything! Even the shyster told him so...

As he was about to knock on Malea's door, before he could hit it, the door opened and there she was. There! Holy cow! All was good... Indeed. "My God, look at those nipples." thought Tittie. By the time he took two steps forwards, he was ready. Ready in a way he had never known before Irene.


E cosi va...

Just in case more is wanted, here's more. Lucky Gian Antonio Carlucci! First, here's a recent picture of an Evelyn look alike. (But Evie can't sing...)


Next, here's more of Malea. Is this a case of making lemonades from lemons? Is this dumb luck? The kicker is that Gian Antonio has no idea what's going to happen to him down the road. And it won't be a matter of kicking the can. HeHe... http://www.manilaboys.com/puffy/puffy.html





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