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If I Should Die Today

The name is Jay Vincent. A big and tall young Black man living in the city of Brockton, Massachusetts. I live in a town full of morons. And I absolutely hate it. From the dumb-ass women I see talking on the phone or checking their makeup in the rearview mirror instead of paying attention to traffic while driving to the punk-ass guys and girls I see smoking ( or selling ) dope on street corners with their pants hanging low, I hate them all. I hate the cop who drives by in his or her squad car and looks at me funny just because I'm a brown-skinned male. I hate my neighbor, the old white lady who gives me a funny look while I'm walking in my driveway barefoot on a sunny day. Lady, it's my house! Screw you. Got it?

I hate the arrogant and bitter women I ran into on the Bat Bus while on my way to school. They're always going on and on about how men are the source of all their problems. Why don't they just go gay and leave men alone? It seems to me that straight women think only women can understand them. So why don't they convert to the sisterhood of chick-lovers? As if other women would treat them better. Two lesbians live in an apartment building in my Ash Street neighborhood and the cops are always at their house because the skinny white chick is beating the big Spanish woman. Yes, you read right. Domestic violence in an all-female household. So much for the kinder, gentler sex, hey?

I hate my professors, especially the feminist ones who go on and on about how men are responsible for all of society's ills. I was once a victim of domestic abuse. My own sister tried to kill me with a knife but I managed to wrestle the knife away from her. When I told my parents and other relatives, none of them believed me. So I just left the house, cursing all of them. In my anguish, I sought help. And I eventually found it. Thus I became a dedicated volunteer for DAHMW, the Domestic Abuse Helpline For Men And Women. They're one of the few hotlines which are friendly to male victims of abuse. I also volunteered for other male-friendly human rights organizations such as the Gay Men's Domestic Violence Project and S.A.F.E. ( Stop Abuse For Everyone).

I hate people who abuse anything that breathes, whether we're talking about humans or animals. Seriously. Every few seconds, a woman calls the cops saying her boyfriend or husband is abusing her. Sometimes, it's a true case of abuse. Quite often, it's not. Many women who are abusive toward the men in their lives. And they use the police against the very male victims of abuse they seek to destroy. Of course, the cops swear abusive women are a myth. And male victims of abuse don't exist. I wonder who's training these gender biased politically correct losers. They're such morons it's not even funny.

People use the law to hurt other people. If you're politically correct, it doesn't matter if you're right or wrong. You will be allowed to get away with anything. What really irks me is the fact that so many people get away with abusing animals. Many men and women abuse their cats and dogs. Along with their pet hamsters, parrots and other assorted furry or feathered companions. This pisses me off because animals can't dial 911 and call for help. Humans abuse the resources intended to help the helpless and innocent animals fall through the cracks. This sucks. That's what drove me to volunteer for Society Against Neutering, an online-based organization of animal-friendly people who opposed the barbaric practice of spaying innocent animals in the name of population control or behavior modification. Animal abusers are the worst of the worst in my humble opinion.

I hate my pastor, the man who gets up in front of my church and cries out against homosexuality and sexual perversion, yet secretly goes into strip clubs with his buddies. What a hypocrite! This man gets up before Brockton's Haitian Adventist Community and talks about sexual immorality yet pays skinny white women to shake their butts in front of his face while his buddies cheer him on? He's wasting his church's money in a time where the whole country is experiencing a recession and he's not even honest about what he is. Sometimes, I want to get up in front of the Haitian church and let these hypocrites know that I am bisexual and I'm not ashamed. I know it would be something I would never forget. Bunch of haters would talk about my coming out for years. The thing is that I'm not yet ready for that. Someday, I intend to live my life in the open. When I have my degree and a steady job, along with my own place.

There is so much hypocrisy in the Haitian community it's not even funny. My father tells me all the time that he doesn't approve of my "funny ways". And my mother backs him up. Yet they both have affairs behind each other's backs. My father is currently banging a light-skinned, big-booty chick named Melanie, one of my sister Hannah's old friends from her days at city college. Yeah, my father is diddling some chick his daughter's age. Isn't that cool?

As for my mother, she constantly gets on my case because of what I put in my room. The walls of my room are adorned with black and white pictures of men and women I admire. I printed them in the school library after downloading them on the computer. President Barack Obama is on my wall. As are many lesser-known black men and black women of accomplishment. People like Lexington Steele, the top black male porn star of all time. A well-hung, sexy black man who stars in interracial pornography and has become a household name. I love watching him getting it on with some blonde-haired white chicks. He does them real hard and makes them work for their money. I also like Mr. Marcus, another black male porn star. I really like Brian Pumper, a young black man who's both a hardcore rapper and a porn icon. His videos often feature a big-booty black woman named Cherokee D'Ass, and I love her work. She's on my wall as well.

The only white porn stars I like are bisexual studs like Ken Ryker, Jason McCain and Mark Slade. There's this big-booty white chick named Joclyn Stone whose work I like. She's alright but she doesn't do anal. I find that so unfortunate. I am fond of Kitten, the sultry black temptress. Star of many black and interracial videos. There is yet another black male actor whose erotic works I really love. His name is Bobby Blake and he recently published a book about his life. He's a bisexual gentleman who's worked in both gay and bisexual movies. A tall, buff black stud who's so manly and tough. So aggressive. Just the way I like my men. I'd love to meet him someday.

Last but not least, there's a mainstream black actor/writer named Kevin Grevioux. He's the star of the Underworld trilogy of movies. The only black werewolf shown in the series. Watching him fight werewolves and vampires was a delight. I love his movies. He's an educated fellow whose talent has changed both Hollywood and the comic book industry. I wish him the best of luck with everything. I'd love to meet him someday as well. Too often Hollywood doesn't appreciate men and women with real talent. On my wall, I feature people I consider to be the unappreciated talent. Like Michael Ironside, my favorite villain from many science fiction movies and television shows. Or Julian McMahon, who's great as an antihero on cult TV series like Charmed and Nip/Tuck.

I am really fond of actor Vincent D'Onofrio for his portrayal of Bobby Goren from Law & Order : Criminal Intent. A brilliant cop with a talent for beating sociopaths of both sexes at their own game. I was stunned to discover that he's the son of a serial killer, but it probably explains his talents for seeing into the darkest heart of his fellow man. I am also fond of Heroes very own Adrian Pasdar, especially for his role as charming sociopath and ruthless corporate predator Jim Profit, on the TV series Profit. He's a talent that goes unappreciated.

Yeah, let's just say I got a lot of attractive and talented people's images on my wall. Men and women whose talent and drive caught my attention, even if the men and women of the world aren't sharp enough to take notice of true talent in action. Well, I pay attention. Quite often, a lot of people with big names are all flash and no substance. Many of them will fizzle and fade away with time. What I like is the talented person in any medium, whether comics, movies, adult entertainment or underground literature, who does good works and goes unappreciated. The works of people like that are what I turn to when the world bores me. It takes a different kind of person to provide worthwhile entertainment to a misanthrope like myself.

When will people realize that it's not race, sexual orientation or gender that makes people bad, it's the mere fact that they're human? I have known this my entire life. People sucks. The world sucks. Get used to it. My freshman year at Bridgewater State College, I kept getting funny looks from the locals. Even though Bridgewater is only a couple of miles from Brockton, it's really another world. If they think looking at me funny is going to make me go away, they've got another thing coming. I don't back down. Ever. I was ushered into this mad world by the actions of certain people. Haitian-American pilot Francisco Vincent, formerly of Cap-Haitien, Haiti, currently of West Brockton, Massachusetts. He works for American Airlines and flies constantly. He's popular with stewardesses everywhere, but hates his wife and brats because they cramp his style.

My mother, Elisabeth Jean Vincent is a tall, stern and outspoken Haitian matron who teaches French at the prestigious Saint Basil Academy for Young Women. She doesn't think much of the male of the human species and not even her own son is spared from her unique brand of hatred. Yet she's very surprised that I don't like her and would rather grind my balls in a blender than to spend time around her, listening to her droning on and on about the flaws of men. When she's not at school, she's usually hanging out with Linda and Rosalind, a couple of plump Haitian women who live down the street on Forest Avenue with their husbands and assorted brats. I don't know where they go when they're not sitting on the couch watching TV in the family room. And honestly I don't care. Every minute she's out of the house is a minute I have to myself.

Finally, there's my sister Hannah. A tall, slender and rather good-looking, light-skinned Haitian gal in her early twenties. When you first meet her, you think she looks like an angel. Don't. She's no angel. My dear sister is a sociopath. She has no conscience whatsoever. She uses people like pieces on a chessboard. I don't trust her as far as I can throw her. For some reason, she's really good at becoming friends with people who are useful to her. Her best friend is a tall, big-bottomed black chick named Tamara who drives her around and lets her stay at her place when she has a fight with the parents. Hannah is involved with a black gentleman from Virginia named Jose Winters. He is a private with the United States Marine Corps and has fallen in love with Hannah. The poor bastard. If he only knew what kind of person she really is. I could tell him the gal he loves is a monster with no conscience whatsoever. But he'd never believe me. Men in his situation never believe anyone who tells them the truth about the deceitful women they're with. The way I see it, the weak deserve their fate. If he's foolish enough to trust my sister, he deserves whatever happens to him.

Yes, folks. This is my family. Aren't they a lovely bunch? And you wonder why I hate the world. My professors in the Criminal Justice program at Bridgewater State College have expressed concerns after hearing some of my opinions in class. Folks, I am for the death penalty. I only wish they applied it to everyone who deserves it. The state of Texas only gives the death penalty to male convicts and then again, they mostly execute black males and Hispanic males. Female convicts who have killed people have been given life in prison instead of the gas chamber, the electric chair or the needle. That's because of gender bias in the Criminal Justice system. I don't give a shit whether you have a penis or a vagina. If you're evil and have killed innocent people, you're going down. End of story. I don't care if this offends some misguided feminist who thinks female criminals should get lighter sentences than their male counterparts. I think gender-based special treatment is pure bullshit. Give women criminals equal treatment by locking them up just like their male counterparts. Do you understand me? Cool.

That's the world according to me, folks. Seriously. I prefer to keep things simple. Sometimes, my friends wonder how come I have such a bleak way of looking at the universe. Especially my good friend Wendy Posse, whom I met while a student at Bay State College in Boston back in the mid-2000s. She is a cute young Black woman who currently works at Macy's in Brockton. Working hard to take care of her hubby Steve and her daughter Stephanie. She's one of the few women I've disclosed my bisexuality to. She often asks me when I'm going to find myself a cute guy or sexy girl and settle down. I tend to smile and shrug at these times. You see, I am not that lucky when it comes to both men and women.

The two people I loved the most were the ones who shattered my heart. I'm talking of course about Marlon D. a good-looking Hispanic gentleman I met at the Boston Public Library a few years ago. He's the first male lover I'd ever had. And he broke my heart by dumping me after he got what he wanted. He's a serial bed-hopper. I should have known. My other love was Loren B. of North Plymouth, Massachusetts. A lovely tomboy of Irish and Italian descent who worked at the school library back at Bay State College.

To say that I was smitten with her would have been an understatement. I fell madly in love with her. Unfortunately, her father Guy wasn't too fond of interracial dating. He also didn't like me personally and let me know this during a searing telephone conversation I would never forget. In the end, I moved on. I never stop wondering about what could have been. I was fond of that girl. I just wish she felt about me the way I once felt about her. And I wish her father wasn't a narrow-minded racist prick.

Yeah, I am very selective of the men and women I get involved with. Seriously. I don't fit the profile of the bisexual black man as a serial bed-hopper who hooks up with any random man or woman willing to give him the time of day. That's just not me. So as I continue with my education and move on with my life, I come to realize certain things. Maybe I am meant to be alone. I've done a lot of good things with my life. I've helped many men and women. I've fought for many righteous causes. But my faith in my fellow human beings is long gone. Simply put, I can't trust anyone. Male or female, black or white, straight or gay. I simply can't. I've seen too many men and women destroying each other using words, weapons or the law. I can't be with anybody. I can never be sure who the person sharing my house, my bed or my workplace really is. So I can never fully trust them. In the end, it's probably best to fly solo.

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