Prison Messed My Feet Up

Prison Messed My feet Up...

Deluxe Edition

By Amir

Copyright © 2022 Amir

Second Edition September 2024

License Notes

Thank you for purchasing this book. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to purchase their own personal copy from their favorite authorized retailer.

Thank you for your support!

I’m all the way up, homie

And I dedicate this to ya’ll who gave up on me/

-Rashad ILL

Old Drake

I Dedicate This Book To:

God...

My parents...

Aunt Pat & Uncle Emerson...

Algeretta, Lexi, Myeara & Brittanie

Mrs. Rosemary Reynolds (R.I.P.)

Ms. Bertie Perham (R.I.P.)

Mr. Bai Ackridge (R.I.P.)

Aunt Beverly (R.I.P.)

Ryan (R.I.P.)

Jalen (R.I.P.)

Every person who has transcended the mental prison of being confined within the repetition of self-destructive cycles...

This Book Is For You...

Prologue

Blowin’ trees with the sweetest aroma

Guess I won’t receive that Tuskegee diploma/

This journey takes a lot out of me, but I’m patient

‘Cause it’s gonna be worth it when my doubters see that I made it/

This music is my success story

Shout out to all the people who want the best for me/

And I know this prison sh*t is just a test for me

but my umbrella don’t make the weather any less stormy/

-Rashad ILL

Back In the City

Ok, first things first; I want to clear up a few things...

Ladies, Prison did NOT mess my feet up...

I may have somewhat rough heels at times, and perhaps will prolong a nail clipping every now and then, but nothing a Ped-Egg and a nice filing can’t fix. I’ve seen some guys in here whose feet look like they crush rocks into pebbles between their toes for a living, or like they’ve played a thousand games of hustle barefoot on gravel mixed with pinecones; and have toenails so long/twisted/f*cked up that I’m surprised they don’t get wrote up for creating a disturbance or disorderly conduct every time they walk around outside their cell in flip-flops with no socks on...

So compared to them? My feet are still quite handsome...

Also, this is NOT a mixtape...

It’s not even a book, per se...

Think of it as a conversation amongst friends...

Close friends at that...

Because some of the topics I touch on are deeply personal to me, and I probably wouldn’t otherwise express them if you were not in my inner circle...

So, yes... you are allowed to feel special now...

Another thing... As you can probably tell by now, although I do have a particular love for grammar and the English language, I tend to write how I think/talk (which often includes ebonics/slang)... Plus I am quite fond of the ellipsis, because it creates a sense of brooding mystery, on some I wonder what comes next? I wonder what was left unsaid? type sh*t. Therefore, this project will definitely reflect that.

And lastly, I want to apologize in advance to my parents/older relatives for some of my brash language, lyrics, and particular issues that I express my feelings about during the extent of this conversation... I can only be me... and I strive to be as honest as possible so that others who are in my situation or have been through some of the things I’ve been through can relate to it and know that these emotions came from a real place...

It took me 5+ years to finish this because I wanted it to be as authentic as possible and didn’t want to rush any parts of it...

Enjoy...

Table of Contents...

Copyright

Dedication...

Prologue

Track Listing...

Acknowledgments...

About Amir...

Current / Future Projects...

The Dark Side of Light... (Sneak Peek)

(Un)Spoken Word... (Sneak Peek)

Letters I Never Sent... (Sneak Peek)

We Once Were Human, Too... (Sneak Peek)/

THESE (definitely) ARE (not) POEMS... (Sneak Peek)

Prison Lingo Glossary

Contact Me

Track Listing...

Track #1 - Smoke and Ashes...

(Intro)

Track #2 - Since I’ve Been Away...

#M4L

Back In The City...

414Ever...

Track #3 – Sorry, If I Drop A Tear...

From Squirrels To Coyotes...

My Dad... A Catfish?

Who Am I?

Family Issues...

Track #4 - Letter to God...

The Abyss

Faith – Works = Stagnation

God, Don’t Let Me Fall...

I Wonder If God Watches South Park?

Track #5 - Song to My Ex...

Love? HA! Yea, Right

The Grey Zone

Crazy + Crazy = Us

Chasing The Unicorn...

Mrs. ILL...

Track #6 - The Bloom...

Old vs. New

From Soundlabz To Rashad ILL...

Track #7 - Alone With My Thoughts... (Interlude)

Random Questions, Memories, and Other Happenings In The Life of Amir...

You KNOW You’re From Milwaukee If...

My Top 10 #VIBEKILLERS

#BIGshoutoutTO:

Token Black/White Person Rules Of Etiquette...

Mandatory Movies To Watch For Validation Of Your Black Card...

Track #8: - Feel Me?

The Min(d)field...

Days... Months...  Years...

Adult Daycare...

If 2020 Was a Person? I’d Whoop His *ss...

Track #9 - Trip Through My Conscience...

Conversations With The Mirror

My Partna, Willie...

Target Practice...

Track #10 - #hustleGRIND

Grind Over Chatter...

Sleepwalkers...

My Forehead Is Crying!

Track #11 - Pardon My Honesty...

He’s Gotta Have It...

Fact, Fiction & Reality TV...

Party Banner Friends & the Fair-Weather Mafia...

No Hard Feelings (Well, Maybe A Few...)

Track #12 - The Finalé (Outro)

BONUS TRACKS

Best of... Rashad ILL/Wordplay RAE

Since I’ve Been Away...

Wordplay RAE

The Rise & Fall of Forever

Best of... Werdz McGee

Hell + High Water: The A capella Sessions

Best of... Rashad El

(Un)Spoken Word... / We Once Were Human, Too

Track #1:

Smoke and Ashes... (Intro)

The first mixtape was cool, a couple parts could be better

But this’ll earn my varsity letter and possibly medals/

I’m on the rise like the poverty level...

Land on whoever beat, plant a flag, and let a colony settle/

These cuts will leave you with an artery severed...

No modesty; and all your hatin’ is comedy, it bothers me never/

‘Cause honestly? I’m an anomaly; oddity; prodigy;

And probably about to be the hottest commodity ever/

Ya music quality is watery, it’s hard to see effort

So I don’t hop on folks wagons (Volkswagens), ya’ll proud to be Jettas/

You need a leader? Just follow me, rebels;

This the dichotomy of artistry; larceny; it’s a robbery, fellas/

Gimme the crown ‘fore I snatch it; first and my last bid

You lack this; when the lyrical mack spit? They quack quick; duck!/

I’m tryna stack chips up, so keep ya Snackstix

I craft hits, my track’s sick, and ya’ll are on my blacklist/

With ya wack spits, I’ve heard enough of these rappers!

I’m trying to figure out why ya’ll be turnin’ up to these rappers/

BEEN murkin’ sh*t, and I got an urn that’s stuffed with these rappers

If I invested? Man, I wouldn’t earn a buck from these rappers/

And I keep the burner tucked for these rappers, ‘cause they be shootin’ shots

I feed the streets without scoops and pots/

Got partnas who pollute the block in pursuit of guap

They sendin’ us to prison whether they got proof or not/

And these CO’s be actin’ like supercops

They gather in groups to watch us strip nude and squat/

It’s hard living with no visits, no loot to shop

Going to work with holes all up in my boots and socks/

I’m aiming at... who’s on top, my music’s hot

And if that... dudes is not? He ‘gon lose his spot/

Thought you had the game secured? I removed the locks

I’m ruthless ‘ock, it’s ‘bout to be a coup d’état/

Nasty flow, the booth is stocked with brooms and mops/

Lunchbox full of beats, that’s food for thought/

I’m stickin’ to the script, and I see through ya props

‘Cause love will turn to hate quick, they pray for you to flop/

Go view the clock; it’s time for me to rule, just watch

I’m ‘bout to build a bigger Empire than Lucious got/

So bow down, like a Muslim do through Salaats

‘Cause this a movement you’ll have to call in the troops to stop/

My drops need a padded room and smocks; yea, the flow is THAT sick

They scold my tactics, never known to practice prophylaxis/

There’s no relaxin’; I’m overactive when moldin’ classics

The coldest rappin’, I expose a track to frozen acid/

I was rollin’ backwards, h*es wit *sses had me so distracted

Now I show the masses I’m focused, my goals are bold and drastic/

I killed this sh*t, poured some gas in and closed the casket

Now I’m ‘bout to throw some matches; POOF! Smoke and ashes...

TRACK #2:

Since I’ve Been Away...

I’m ‘bout to set the course, so just get aboard and watch me

Hella metaphors; sharp as metal swords, I’m cocky/

When I get out of prison? I’m headed towards Milwaukee

Pedal floored, you gon’ need a Megazord to stop me/

-Rashad ILL

5 PM in Milwaukee

#M4L

And I’mma keep dream-chasin’ like I rock wit Meek

‘Cause I gotta eat, every other option is obsolete/

But I feel like the system actually lost me

They took so much away that keeping track is exhausting/

Be up all night writing and making Racks with the coffee

‘Cause I’m tryna steal the crown and bring it back to Milwaukee/

F*ck the war stories, I’m focused on preparation

Been playing the waiting game even though I was never patient/

Jump on opportunities with no moment of hesitation

I hope they see I’m committed and notice my dedication/

-Rashad ILL

Homie, What’s Good?

Well, well, well....it looks like I finally stopped procrastinating and decided to start this. By the time it reaches your hands; it will be finished, of course... but as of right now? 5:37 PM on August 22nd, 2016? All I have are a few ideas I’ve been kicking around in my head for so long that I decided to go ahead and act on them. I have yet to fully commit to a format, so I figure I’ll just compile the sections as they come to me and piece everything together later on. So....I’ll start with an introduction of myself and just go from there.

As things stand right now? I am currently serving two consecutive life sentences, meaning I have to finish one before I start doing my time on the other one. Do I still have hope of regaining freedom one day? Yes; because without hope, all is lost... but I have come to realize that true freedom starts in the mind. I ain’t trying to sound all preachy and sh*t, but it’s definitely true. I also realized that without seeing the beauty within myself, I won’t be able to see the beauty in the external world around me.

How did I get to this point in my life? Sitting on a hard *ss bunk bed, listening to Meek Millz on a janky tablet while I attempt to piece together my life on scrap sheets of paper?  I’d love to shrug my shoulders and say, sh*tttt, I dunno... but that would be a lie. I got to this point by basically not giving a damn about myself or anyone around me. I got to this point by figuratively slashing the throat of anyone that attempted to get close to me...and yes, I got to this point by just outright being lazy as hell and wanting to gain everything the quick and easy way. As I go back over said life, I see the steady, gradual decline that I tumbled down until I had reached the edge of the cliff... the proverbial point of no return... Which, for me? was when I made the STUPID decision to use my play-sister’s debt card to buy a one-way greyhound ticket to St. Louis to stay with a woman I had only met on the internet...

Let me repeat that...

I used my play-sisters debt card (without her consent, mind you...) to buy a ONE-WAY Greyhound ticket to stay with a woman I had only met on the internet...

Crazy, right?

Ok, let me rewind this story all the way to the beginning...

If you’ve read the About Me section of my previous books, then you already know some of my back story...If not, my full name is Rashad Amir El. I was born on May 22nd, 1986 in Rockford, IL but raised in Milwaukee, WI. I am adopted...and it was a closed adoption, so I don’t know any of my birth family (as it stands right now). I actually just found out within the past 5 years that I have at least 3 brothers and 3 sisters that I’ve never met. As a child, I was given the best of everything by my adopted family.  I didn’t want for anything, and I remember that my parents went out and got any and everything that I showed even the slightest amount of interest in...yo-yo’s... magic kits... chemistry sets... drums...I even had a jungle gym in the backyard. I think it was the only one on our block, and I remember sometimes I’d come home from school to find other kids from the neighborhood had hopped our back fence and would be playing on it, like it was community property or some sh*t. To keep it all the way real? I was spoiled as hell and didn’t even know it. I just assumed that everybody else lived like I did...

I was VERY sheltered as a child, and my parents kept me in a vast array of different programs and activities to try to keep me on the right track and away from the streets. From as early back as I can remember, I was on one bowling league or another... then I played soccer for a couple years... and my Junior and Senior years of high school consisted of playing football. I was in the Black Achievers program at the YMCA, and NYSP at Marquette.  I was in Cub Scouts as well as Boy Scouts; and was inducted into The Order of the Arrow. I actually had made it all the way up to Life Scout and only had a few merit badges and a Community Service project to do to get my Eagle badge, so it all really came down to a choice I made the summer before my senior year of high school...

At the time, I was in two different programs up at UWM (University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee). Talent Search was the one during the school year, and Pre-College Academy was the one they offered during the summer. They were both equally fun and we went on trips and all that, but in Pre-College Academy you got a half credit for high school for each summer you completed the program and they also took you to Six Flags at the end of the summer. I had made a lot of friends in that program over the years, and it would be my last chance to kick it with them before we all graduated and went our separate ways (for those of us that were becoming Seniors). Then, there was Boy Scout camp, which was where I could easily pick up some of the necessary merit badges I needed to get Eagle and I could get the few that were left during the school year. The problem lied in the fact that Scout camp took place smack-dab in the middle of the course of Pre-College Academy and I wouldn’t be able to complete all my classes for Pre-College Academy and get passing grades if I missed those weeks, which meant no half credit and no Six Flags. On top of that, Boy Scout camp, as you can probably guess, was all boys (besides maybe a select few counselors with names like Mildred and Ethel who looked like they baked pies and crocheted knit sweaters for a living), as opposed to Pre-College academy, which DEFINITELY had a vast array of girls I was crushin’ on. So which one do you think I chose?

Damn right! I went to Pre-College Academy, and man was that summer FUN. We had the time of our lives, especially at the end when we all went to Six Flags. I remember that me and my friends had a ritual where we’d always get on Batman: The Ride as the first coaster every time we went, and that particular summer we had got on the Mr. Freeze coaster like 6 times in a row because the line was short as hell. Man, there was this one girl named Cherie that was SO fine; she had a caramel complexion, pretty smile, bangin’ body, bubbly personality, and eyes that changed colors like a mood ring. I remember I had got her number that summer, but was so shy and nervous that I never called...#epicFAIL... anyway...

Other than going to public schools in 3rd and 6th grade, I was either homeschooled or in private school up until my Sophomore year of high school, when I BEGGED to go to Riverside, which was the public high school that some of my friends attended. At first, the school system tried to say that I had to attend my neighborhood high school, Custer (which was ghetto as hell), but I ended up testing at Riverside and got accepted on the first day of school so I got my wish and attended RUHS (Riverside University High School) until I graduated in 2004. High school was up and down for me (as it is for most kids, I guess...). Although my parents didn’t struggle financially, when it came to clothes for me? they usually chose quantity over quality... especially because I was a big kid (I had a growth spurt and had hit 6’ and still growing once I hit puberty, plus I weighed 240+), which meant that while all the popular kids were rocking Jordans, Polo, Akademiks, Enyce, Ecko, Fubu Platinum and the latest fashions I was either getting my sh*t from Sears, the Big & Tall Magazine, Marshalls, or the beauty supply store... (Don’t act  like ya’ll ain’t never seen or got one of them bootleg shirts or earrings from there!) It was a big one down the way from where I stayed on the north side that sold a little bit of everything... hats... jackets... winter coats... underwear...  shirts... jeans... hair supplies... jewelry... contact lenses... I think they even sold electronics, CD’s, and DVD’s too! I remember one of the big off-brands in Milwaukee back then was Boom-X (I KNOW ya’ll remember that sh*t....DON’T FRONT!) and half of my closet was either that or the bootleg  Ecko, Girbaud, and Fubu that had the Fruit of the Loom tags on ‘em...  #DontJudgeMe...

Man, I remember my first piece of real gear was a Phat Farm shirt that I had begged up on while I was out in Philly with my parents. I wore that b*tch EVERYWHERE. One time, I had this Boom-X jean outfit and decided I would try to play it off like it was Phat Farm, right? (I wore my Phat Farm shirt under the jean jacket, but hung the Phat Farm tags from the shirt off the jacket). So the other kids let me go all the way until lunchtime without saying anything, had me thinking I had actually pulled it off, then as soon as I walked in the cafeteria all I heard was "BOOOOOOOOOOM X!!!!!!" and the whole lunchroom started cracking up. Needless to say, I never did THAT one again.

As I stated earlier, I graduated from high school in 2004 (Go Riverside Tigers!!!) and after that, I pretty much raised a middle finger to any and every opportunity that came my way to do something with my life. College? I did a year at Tuskegee for Architecture (TU! You Know!) and f*cked it up by not going to class and partying 24/7 instead. Community college? I did a semester at MATC for Architecture, but spent more time skipping class going to my girlfriend’s house than anything. The Army? I f*cked that up by dropping dirty on a piss test and also forging a signature on my make-up PT test because I had snuck and smoked so many cigarettes while I was a holdover that I had a hard time running without hacking up half a lung. Trade School? yep... you guess it... f*cked up those chances, too. So after all that, I ended up in the streets masquerading as one of those type of guys, when really I didn’t have a genuine thug bone in my body at the time. I did more sh*t wrong or *ss backwards than anything.

Case in point, one time after I had moved to STL when I was selling weed to this female, she complained about my sacks being small. So, instead of leaving and moving on to the next potential customer like I should have, I tried to be Mr. Nice Guy by busting open two sacks in an attempt to add half of one to the other. What ended up happening was that I busted one open too wide and the whole thing spilled on the ground... in a parking lot... at night... with no streetlights in the immediate vicinity. Fortunately, if I remember correctly, I still ended up making the sale... but she probably just had pity on me because I was so awkward as a drug dealer. Thinking back now, I’m pretty reasonably sure that I was approached by an undercover cop before, too. Good thing I had run out before I actually made the sale!

Anyway, fast forward, I’m currently 6 years and 3 months in on this bid (at the time that I’m writing this particular chapter) and realize now that because of reality shows, and media in general, society has a skewed perception of prison and those who are located in places like these. I don’t even think you really know how to feel about it, so you allow television to do the thinking for you and find comfort in the fact that you believe you are doing your duty as an American citizen to help keep the crazies off of the streets. Every time you see one of those prison shows that highlights the mass murderer, or serial rapist, or the guy who masturbates every time the woman on the camera crew comes around, you think that those individuals represent the prison population as a whole and breathe a sigh of relief knowing your tax dollars are going towards keeping us all behind bars indefinitely... Right?

I can’t say that I blame you. I used to have the same ideals and stereotyped everyone behind bars as ruthless, cold-blooded animals who weren’t capable of change. Hence, the reason why I was scared sh*tless when I first got off that bus in shackles and set foot on prison grounds, especially due to the fact that it was a maximum security prison. In my mind? I’d have to inflict serious harm on someone to show that I wasn’t to be f*cked with, and walk around with a shank all day every day, blah-blah-blah. To date, I have yet to have one physical altercation since I’ve been locked up, either in jail or prison, and I can count the number of times I’ve been in the hole on one hand and still have fingers left over. How did I accomplish this amazing feat? By being a critical thinker, and also by having long-term goals that FAR superseded the vast majority of minute situations I’ve encountered since being down.

Now, I’m not going to say that every situation I’ve encountered was just easy as hell to ignore or brush off. There have definitely been times when I saw red and wanted to just be like F*ck ALL this sh*t and go balls-to-the-wall batsh*t crazy, but in those situations, I’ve always found myself thinking of the fact that I’m in prison for allegedly committing an extremely violent crime, so any and every violent incident I’d be involved in while incarcerated would only be used as an example to show that I haven’t changed and am still that same person they believe committed that crime and deserve to be locked up for the rest of my life. So I’ve just used each situation to teach me to be more cautious the next time around. Now, don’t get me wrong... in prison there are just some situations that you just can’t back down from and are forced to take it to the next level; but fortunately, I’ve been blessed enough to not been placed in any of those.

I’ve come a LONG way when it comes to this prison sh*t, and I can honestly say that it’s never reached the point of being cool or exciting. Back when I was in county jail we didn’t have tablets or CD players, only handheld radios, and one of the local stations used to broadcast live from one of the clubs on Friday and Saturday night. The whole top walk of the wing I was in was single-man cells, so it wasn’t strange to look out in the wing and see all of the young cats in those cells dancing around and flipping their lights on and off to the beat of whatever song was playing on the radio at the club. Looking back now, I think it was more out of having nervous energy and finding a way to distract ourselves than anything else. In the wing I was in back in county jail, many of us were facing serious time, and a lot of us had never been to prison before, so we were just finding ways to keep our minds off of the fear, anticipation and whatever other emotions we felt concerning our cases, not knowing what the outcome of our court situations would be, and everything else we were dealing with at the time.

Man, I don’t even think reality hits until you first step off the bus at Diagnostic (the go-between place where you get processed in and they let you know what camp you’ll be assigned to). I remember when the judge was reading down my sentence, I just felt numb. I mean, how are you supposed to feel hearing that you got maxed out on 13 charges and have been given back to back life sentences? Some people probably would have broken down right then and there. Others might have spazzed out and probably threw a chair at the judge or some sh*t, but I don’t think I actually shed tears about it until later that night when I was in the visiting booth with my parents because I felt so bad and ashamed for putting myself in this predicament and I felt like I’d let them down. But they’ve been my rock, my constant, and my biggest supporters throughout this whole situation so I owed it to myself to change for the better but I also owed it to them to show them that everything they’ve done to give me a good life and guide me in the right direction wasn’t done in vain.

Back In The City...

I got aggression towards you artists who ain’t saying nothin’...

Just rapping reckless on hot beats, they move stupid/

Come to the Mil, and you probably wouldn’t make it stuntin’

They’ll snatch ya necklace and car keys then YouTube it/

But that’s my city, though... I love it to the death of me

And getting all my partnas out the mud is a necessity/

I want a lot of cake, so I’m doubling the recipe

I wouldn’t be doing this, if it wasn’t in my destiny/

-Rashad ILL

That’s Real

Man, I SWEAR I miss Milwaukee. Yea, it used to be cold as f*ck in the wintertime, and the snow was a b*tch, but it was my city and I LOVED it. Between school, the different programs I was in, sports and working at the club I knew a LOT of people so it felt good to just be able to ride to any side of the city or slide through any hood and know I was good, or to know that if there was ever any drama, I had comrades that were just a few phone calls away. I think what I probably miss the most though are the summers... Jam 4 Peace... Summerfest... Greekfest... State Fair... Afrofest. Heading to Love’s Liquor before hitting a house party or heading to the lakefront. Watching a movie at the Mayfair theater while eating one of those $5 bags of Mrs. Fields cookies from the food court, then heading to Denny’s, Red Lobster, or BW3’s (Buffalo Wild Wings) across the street to kick it afterwards. When I was younger, I usually had access to a car so I’d always be out and about somewhere in the city. I guess you can say that’s when I fell in love with the allure of the streets, because it was so easy for me to have one foot in and one foot out.

One of my best friends, Deron, knew a LOT of people in the hood, so I felt like whenever he was with me he was like the hood ambassador or some sh*t. It was through my association with him that I grew familiar with a lot of dudes in the streets. He was actually the whole reason why I started working at the club in the first place because his dad had his own security team. I remember he told me that his pops had wanted to meet me, so I snuck out of the house that night and drove up to the club he was at... and the rest was history. I definitely had some very valuable experiences working club security. It’s actually how I ended up coming out of my shell and learning to be confident when it came to approaching women.

There was one night in particular when an EXTREMELY attractive woman had come to the club I was working at, and she said she was single. Deron was trying to put her on me, telling her I had my own car and my own money, blah-blah-blah... and my scary *ss dropped the ball and was too shy to try to shoot my shot. Well, I spent all night building up my confidence, telling myself that I’d holla at her when she left the club at the end of the night... and then? she ended up coming back out riding piggy-back on another dude’s shoulders... yea... ouch. From then on, I decided that no matter how attractive a woman was, I’d still shoot my shot.

Having that mentality is what made me realize that women REALLY like confidence. At first I’d come up with these long-drawn out dialogues and pick-up lines, but eventually I guess you could say I developed a little finesse with it and grew comfortable enough that sometimes I’d walk up to the most beautiful females in the club and work my show to get their numbers. You could always tell who the baddest ones were, because it would be little groups of dudes hovering around them, as if they were trying to decide who was going to be the one to take their chances and try to run game.

Ok, I have a confession. At one point, I was actually wearing grey contacts... yes, me... and I had the waves poppin, so I SWEAR you couldn’t tell me sh*t when I used to walk into work at night. Plus, I was the youngest dude on the security team (besides Deron), but I had a little pull because I had been around the longest (there was a high turn-around rate when it came to bouncers), so I usually could pick what spot I wanted to work... which usually ended up being on the dance floor. Oh man, there were DEFINITELY some wild nights, to say the least. Sometimes I’d actually spend more time partying and getting danced on by women than doing my job as security. I can’t tell you how many times Deron’s pops called me into his office to let me know that the club owner had told him I was allowing the women in the club to distract me from doing my job.

I also miss all the little cut spots I used to have all around the city. I was a late-bloomer when it came to sex (as compared to many of my friends at the time), and didn’t lose my virginity until halfway through my Junior year of high school. But once I did? Oh man, I was off to the races. Sometimes I’d just drive around and plot out potential duck-off spots that I found in the city, but if all else failed and I couldn’t make it to one of my spots I usually just found a quiet street and turned the headlights off. Thinking back now, it’s kind of funny to imagine someone waking up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, and looking through their front blinds just to see some random *ss car parked in front of their house with the windows fogged up, furiously rocking away.

I think that out of all the times I’ve pulled into my little spots, the police only came through and knocked on my window one or two times... but fortunately, by then we were already done! Yea, I’ve definitely had some crazy times in Milwaukee. There are so many wild stories I could go into, but half of them would probably incriminate me, so I’ll just say that no matter where I am