There are 4 types of people on Blogstream:

1. Those that make things happen.
2. Those that know what happened.
3. Those that wonder what happened.
4. Those that get bitch-slapped for not reading The Bigness!

Which one are you?

Mr. Big

Educated Thug, maybe. Intelligent Hoodlum, quite possibly. But I know I am not, and never will be, a gangster.

I used to sell shit. No need to specify what shit is. If there was a market for it, and I could get my hands on it, I would sell it. Not to blow my own horn, but I was good at what I did. Not because I was some criminal mastermind. I was good because my brother was even better. I basically lived off of his table scraps. Trust me. I'm not complaining. He ate pretty damned good.

I wish I had more of a business accumen when I was doing this. I could never parlay my selling into anything more than pocket money. Even though I knew I should save 10% of every sale, I never did. Sounds petty right? Little things add up. I made quite a few sales a day. Enough to eat, dress, party, and LIVE at a hotel. All that was profit. Dayum was I foolish not to save some of that shit.

I'm not sure when, but the game started getting boring for me after a while. You can only live so fast for so long. There's no pension plan. And your longevity is only as good as your customers ability to not get caught. Cops love that big fish little fish shit. Although I never got caught, I had to live like I was about to get caught. There was a lot of looking over shoulders; lots of threats. Sometimes there was even violence. All this starts to wear on you. It's impossible to keep up. You either have to move on, or move out. I chose the latter.

For the first time in a long time I got a job. It wasn't much, but I went to it everyday. I began to shed the lifestyle that got me to where I was. Where was that exactly? Nowhere. I was living in the projects with a woman I didn't love, taking care of a child I did. Like an asshole, I taught her how the game is played. I was no longer a player, but I was still on the bench.

Then it happened. I got robbed. At gunpoint no less. Thanks for the respect. Most people knew I had some skills in some shit that was really painful to be on the wrong side of. That meant I wasn't going to be handled alone, or without weapons. There was two of them. One stayed in the background, hidden in the shadows. The other, the one with heart (and the gun) ran into the house. I didn't even get upset. I was on the phone at the time. I distinctly remember telling the person I was talking to to hold on because I was getting robbed. For some reason I wasn't afraid. I couldn't be. My son was upstairs asleep. All that mattered was that nothing happened to him.

They didn't get much. They didn't even get me mad. It was par for the course. I've robbed other people. It was only a matter of time before it happened to me. I took it in stride. I didn't even call the cops. Why bring heat to hell?

I learned a lot from that experience. I learned that I was ready to stop. There was more to life than making money. I had a son. Revenge? Why? Natural selection dictates that the old eventually get consumed by the young. The weak fall prey to the strong. I think the robber saw that he had as much as he could get. If he pressed his luck and went upstairs, I truly believe he wouldn't have gotten down on his own power. They would have carried him out dead. What was upstairs wasn't worth his life. There was a lot of it, but it rested underneath my son. Like any father, I would have given my all.

I've changed a lot since then. I've lost the nerve for it. I don't have any more 'bids' in me. I live within the law like everyone is supposed to. I miss the money, prestige, noteriety, and the fear I either earned or imposed. But I'd never go back. I'm not a gangster. I'm something better than that. I'm a DADDY.

Mr. Big

I finished my 30 second video blog post. That's really all I have to say.

Mr. Big

I've been doing a lot of surfing lately. I find it interesting to see how many people have the same people on their 'blogs I like' section. Adam, Seven, Terri, Whit, AM, Nightbug, (all blogs I have in my faves) seem to be everywhere! I feel slighted! In comparison, I'm nowhere! I've put my time in. I occasionally talk about things other than myself and/or nookie. Sometimes. Every once in a while.

Rather than just bitch about it, I decided to see what gives the afforementioned people so much traffic. No one knows what the hell Seven is talking about. That could be the appeal there. I've gained quite an appreciation for his site since I noticed that he likes the song West End Girls by the Pet Shop Boys.

Adam and Nightbug are without a doubt THE SHIT! That is the highest complement I am capable of giving. I don't even have anything else to say them.

You have to like Terri. Her posts and comments are so sincere. You really feel like she loves each and every one of us, no matter how undeserved we may be. She is truly the Mother Love of the site. Terri, I am proud to be considered one of your 'men'.

Don't get me wrong. I get traffic. I may be crude, but at least I'm interesting. I'm going to examine this thing more closely and see what I can do to appease my lust for more attention. I will not be satisfied until I appear on the home page's popular blogs section! This is war!

I am so full of myself at times!

Mr. Big

What's going on here people? I've noticed a strange disturbance in the force. (not star wars isms!) It seems that there is a lack of nookie in the stream. Jen (my blog bitch) hasn't had any in an alarming stretch of time! Adam and Terri (although not together) have reasons for not getting any, but they add to the problem. I quite possibly the sexiest mother fucker on the whole site (self proclaimed), can't even remember what it looks like! What's the deal?

As I've said in the past, I'm completely willing to drive to Texas and 'hook up' with Jen. This is good in theory, but probably not very realistic. I'd do it. And it would be the BOMB! But then she'd get all hooked and dependant. She'd blow all her money on making red-eye flights to Connecticut. It would be bad. I don't want to be the one to get her ad-dick-ted to Big Daddy. (aren't I the only one who could?) Fuck it, you know what I mean.

I don't know if Night-Bug has this problem, but frankly, she scares me! IF we ever did get together, she might do things to me that would make me need therapy. I'm pretty open sexually, but there's things about me that I don't want to know yet, and I fear that she may know what those things are.

DB's mom would be a good prospect, but it seems she's got her hands full at the moment. I know what she's going through. I had the unsettling happenstance of seeing my son in the bathtub this weekend. Not that I haven't seen this a million times before, but this was different. As I kneel down to wash his legs and feet, there was this 'thing' pointing at me. Ewww! I tried my best to ignore it, but had to be washed. He explained to me that it 'does that alot sometimes'. I was unprepared to have the erection conversation with a 6 year old, so we continued to ignore it. Even when he hung his washcloth on it. (he don't get that thing from daddy) Boobies were easy to talk about with my daughter. I'll trade boobies for erections anyday.

I like to think that the problem stems not from us, but from society at large. There are too many Old Nasty (navy) and Pimpercrombie and Bitch types out there. America has brainwashed us into thinking that only certain body types are attractive. That is complete and utter bullshit! Have you seen today's supermodels? They're tall, undernourished looking freaks! And the women, they're no better! But we grow up looking at the swim suit issue of sports magazines and think that that's what beauty is. I am here to say that it is not! We need to find the beauty in everyone.

Women. The next time you get a chance, look at, and really check out a fat man. Not disgustingly overweight man. Not the guy with the belly hanging out under his shirt. Not the guy with the ass-crack that starts at the back of his neck. They may not be helpable. (helpable?) Check out the guy who looks like the guy in my gallery. (shameless plug) He's got style. He looks sure of himself. He may have children. Look at him and find something you like. Now instead of just passing him over, talk to him. You may find out a few things.
Like what? He has feelings and insecurities just like you. Get to know him. He'll grow on you. (figuratively, I hope) And I don't share this with a lot of people, but some fat men (me) have skills that skinny dudes know nothing about. Get your shovel, and dig this.

A skinny dude that has never had a belly, doesn't know how to use one. The belly is useful! Have you ever finally gotten into that position where everything finally fits and is going right? Don't you hate when you keep slipping out of that shit? That doesn't happen with The Bigness! Why? The Belly! We use that shit like a tool. It may sound crazy, but when I put it on you, it's on you! I'll pull you to the edge of the bed, and put my Tim's on. (traction) Then I'll put the belly on you. As I come from underneath and pop it up, the belly pushes down on you keeping you in the same place. And then I lean over you and grab you by the waist and pull you down at same time. (did i mention your legs are over my shoulders?) You are going nowhere! And you'll like it! No, you'll love it! Why? Because I'll keep this up until you can't take it anymore, or I get an abdominal cramp! Skinny dudes can't even make this happen. They don't have the equipment!

Most dudes look good, but fuck ugly. Not the Bigness. We have to give it all we got. We don't know when we'll get this chance again. If you ever walk down the street and see some fat guy with a blazin' honey, dimepiece, perfect 10, Jen, you now know why. We put it on 'em. And they'll never tell their girlfriends. It'll be their little secret.

I seem to have lost the original topic. Who cares? Maybe you'll walk away with something you didn't have before you read this. Be a little more open when looking for Mr. Right. Look outside the norm. You supersize you meals. Supersize your man.

Sprinkle Me Bitch!

Mr. Big