What More Can I Say?...

It's been three weeks since I received my letter from the New York Department of Labor. I'm relieved to say the judge ruled in my favor making it clear that Pratt Institute did indeed wrongful terminate me despite the fact that employers can hire and fire at will in New York state. Repeat: New York employers can fire and hire for so much as a hair being out of place. That's not good because what if someone is harassed on a worksite or reports dangerous conditions? Coming back from our trip to Springfield, MA the letter was a welcome sign. Darryl was elated but I couldn't help but feel this was a pyhrric victory. Believe me, I am far from sounding unappreciative when it comes down to the ruling. It took 3 months for this to come before an appelate judge even though I made it clear to the representative on my case that my rights as an employee had been violated. I have been evicted, forced to go on public assistance, and lost my dignity and what little self-worth I had in the process. Furthermore, my level of stress was not alleviated by the trials I had to go through on a daily basis while attending their Back-to-Work program run by Goodwill Industries. I realized the first day that this was part of the government's way of using faith-based companies and non-profit entities to monitor and manage participants of public assistance. The ordeal was a ridiculous adult day-care program where you were treated often like cattle. Confined to a small classroom where you and 50-some other out of work individuals would innundated with job search strategies. The case managers and job developers didn't do their jobs properly in assisting those of us who wanted to get work and off welfare. Even if you came there with a resume and a degree in hand you were treated like a nameless piece of meat. After 6 weeks I still had no employment and the off-site HRA worker was threatening me with a WEP assignment, basically they assigned you a position within a city department where you worked for your benefits. Basically INVOLUNTARY SERVITUDE! Coming from a heritage/ethnicity where my ancestors were forced to become sharecroppers against their will this deeply disturbed me. Whereas I had made every attempt to find work, even on a daily basis I was still perceived and treated as if I were another parasite crippling the great American society. No one took into account the shitty economy, outsourcing, and/or even corporate nepotism that happens everyday. Even after receiving my letter of restoration of benefits I expressed my interest in leaving the program. Before I could say anything more I was confronted with the idea of paying back HRA for the money shelled out in public assistance and rent assistance. That's funny, I don't hear about the countless nations across the globe that have lent monies to our country putting the U.S.A. on a payment schedule. The was absolutely no sense of compassion or understanding. Here, I was announcing my departure from welfare and immediately going back on unemployment. The only thing they wanted to hear about was whether I would receive a lump sum payment or a weekly distribution of benefits. You can understand after my ruling why I stopped going abruptly. The people who work for Goodwill Industries are assholes and shiftless bags of putrid shit -not far from the people who work for the New York Department of Labor. For putting me through so much strife and debilitating my reputation the Pratt Institute needs to pay through their bleeding arsehole.

Moving Sucks!

I'm trying to settle into Darryl's apartment after a frustrating day of packing and moving. I would have packed in the days before but most of my time was taken up by the simpletons at the Goodwill job center. I would have asked for Friday off but they need a letter with an offical letterhead excusing me from their bullshit. I suppose I could have done it after my job search. Oh, that's right, another reason I didn't go to the apartment to pack was I didn't want to see Leslie's bony ass. Unsure of what time his friend Darryl (yes, that's originality for you) was bringing the truck by I decided to stay up to pack. I mean why not, it was only one room of stuff how long could it possible take? I wasn't done packing until 10 am! You never realize how much shit you own until you have to move. By then Darryl finally found out what time his friend, Darryl was bringing the truck by. That time was 4 pm. So I went over to Von's house to feed and walk his Shih Tzu while he was on holiday in the Cayman's beating his addiction to crack. I was lucky to even find a lightbulb too see in that hovel. Thing about crackheads is that they make practical yet unimaginable interior decorators. His cousin Carl aka English is too self-involved to bring his ass over to the apartment to bring the dog over to his place in Far Rockaway. Afterwords I went back to prepare for the move. Leslie absence was influencial because he left early in the morning so I could get my work done. Darryl took a car service from his place to mine in order to help me pack when the truck arrives. Both of us were painfully aware of the fact that Leslie would be arriving from work very soon. In fact, the only words Leslie had for me were about the money he would receiving from HRA for the rent and where to forward my mail. He was sooo concerned for my personal financial well-being despite the fact that he was evicting me. The douchebag-for-brains was aware of the fact that the money sent to him is for the September's rent and any arrears. So stupid is he that he was unaware of the fact that there was a check from HRA for $430 presently sitting in his mail box. Darryl's friend, Darryl, called to say he was unaware that he needed a second form of I.d. to rent the truck from U-haul. Just another sign of a post 9/11 society, thanks alot Muhammad! So, he was going to be late. Well, Darryl and I waited and waited. Finally, 6pm his friend showed up. We immediately went to work. Once he had the first load packed Darryl and I realized that once I got to the apartment I needed to get myself dressed for my show, Happy Hour. It was my cast's final night performing together and I needed to be out by 8pm. Darryl said he and his friend would finish moving the rest of my belongings. I scrambled about, getting myself together. Stepping over Smokey, Darryl's cat who was dying on the bathroom floor. Why they always choose to die there I will never know. He was barely responsive when I stepped over him to take my shower. 20 minutes later I was on my way to catch the Q train into Manhattan but not before thanking both Darryls for their help. After the show, my castmembers commented on my ass, saying they didn't know that I was going to do such a thing. That's part of the fun of show business, I love to keep them guessing. This white girl who was nice but a little annoying kept going on about dogs and someothershit I could barely understand. I guess she wanted to get some black meat before she went back to Minnesota. It was 5am before I got back to Brooklyn and Darryl's place. He was still awake and all of my stuff filled the living room. Smokey was still immobile, wet and on the bathroom floor. I pet him to comfort him for the very last time. He barely responded by tilting his head which seemed too heavy to lift to look at my hand. Deeply depressed I retired to bed knowing full well what the next day would bring.

How I spent my 31st Birthday

This past weekend was the most busiest 48 hour I have ever had. The story begins early last week when I'm contacted by the people casting "American Gangster", the new Denzel Washington flick. They wanted me to come in Wednesday evening for a fitting. I let them know of my availability and find out that I'm playing a Drug Dealer. I've always aspired to be portray African-Americans in a positive light and here was my opportunity. I was told that the days of filming were going to be Friday and Sunday. I was psyched. Thursday afternoon while at the place I'm moving out of I happened upon a listing on Craigslist for extras for the Elisabeth Shue and Durmot Mulroney flick, "Gracie". So, I emailed my headshot and resume. Within minutes I was contacted by someone from their casting agency. He told me they were filming at Shue's former high school in Plainfield, New Jersey and they were doing it that Friday night, the same day I was to film "American Gangster". I thought wouldn't be great if I could work on American Gangster and then later on "Gracie". My only problem was I hadn't been given a call time for Gangster. As if by magic I get a call from a guy named E. Wilson who told me the shoot was off for Friday. Immediately I call the guy back and tell him I'm available. I'm given a number and the call time of 4:30 pm, and a place to catch the bus to the holding area. I had my day planned out. Get out of the mandatory job program, drop off some resumes in the theater district, and get home by 2pm. Frantic, I ran back to Darryl's place (where I am in the midst of moving) to shit, shower and change. I didn't bother shaving for fear of losing authenticity. You see, back when I worked on Across the Universe the make-up people said my goatee was looked too designed. As a result they glued hair onto my face which froze in the December weather. I washed it off because it looked like someone spooged on my face. This time I was going to do best to leave whatever I had alone. Spent half an hour blowing out my hair which I would have done much earlier if not for bigoted job counselor and recruiters. After a while of no work you really start to wonder if people even know you exist and then WHAM! After a rather anxious ride on the Q train I ran across three avenues with garment bags in tow to the my final destination. After getting there I was drenched and out of breath, not to mention met by a crowd of 400 some extras. After checking in I put my clothing underneath the bus that was loading and went into a Pizzeria for some garlic knots. My thought was that the Non-union bus was going to be there for a while. Well, that bus took off with my things onboard. I was worried but assured that my things would arrive in the same location. During the hourlong ride I talked on my cell phone to Darryl and stressed my disbelief at how stupid I could have been. He reassured me everything would be okay and that he had a special feeling that during the shooting for "American Gangster" I would probably get some lines. I pooh-poohed him but I believed him.

"The Young and The Tactless"

It's been a while I know but I've been taking the time to get my affairs in order. Just recently I have been evicted from my loft apartment in the Clinton Hill area by one Leslie Dure. Four weeks ago he brought home two white guys named Scott and Mark to look at the apartment whilst I was there. He later justified this by saying he had no idea when I was going to find consistant employment to pay the rent for September. "This is real," he kept saying as if I were a 7-year-old that didn't know any better. Then, like a nagging housefrau, he asked me how can I sleep knowing I have no job to support myself. Leslie kept telling me to go find work like it were digging for earthworms. I told him I would go to the Human Resources Association to get some help with the rent. Since this was an emergency I thought it prudent. A week later I received a call from Leslie saying he had opened up my mail by "mistake" and found an ATM card with brochures and literature. He asked if he could read it to me over the phone. I declined and asked him to leave it on my bed in my room until I get there the following day. Just last week after going through the hand-wringing process of applying for aid I presented Leslie with my idea. Get the state to pay for my rent for the then coming month of September and any arrears while I find some suitable employment or get an idea of when I was going to move. Leslie went off. She (and this is the pronoun I will be using to reference this asshole) Accused me of not being serious about searching for work. She also said that she had been surveilling all my coming and goings as if she were my parental unit, "This door shouldn't be opening and closing at all times of the night". She said that this is the reason why she doesn't "sign leases to brothas because they always turn to this state shit". As an immigrant she didn't want her name in the system even though I was the recipient of said aid. She claimed that her Mother raised them on $325 ($3.25) a week and didn't need the government to help them. Makes me wonder if they would have thought twice if she needed a kidney. Lord knows Canadians got it good when it comes to healthcare up there. She was going on and on ad nauseum that I just needed to get away from her toxicity. She said if she signed it she wanted me out. Yesterday, we finalized that by September 30th I would vacate the premises. Why if he had gone through with my original proposal it would have pretty simple. Leslie Dure is a dumb blonde but with dreadlocks. It's hard to belive that the same douchebag whose dog I walked when she was at work, the same vagina-faced motherfucker whom I lent socks and deodorant to when she didn't have them is the same motherfucker who encouraged me to get food stamps two months ago! They're both part of the same cow, now she's got a problem because it's not kosher? Give me a break! She then proceeded to judge me and classify me with all the other brothas who turn to welfare for assistance. It's bad enough she was tactless enough to bring in two prospective tenants, she even went so far as to open up my mail, which is a federal offense. Ladies and gentleman, Leslie Dure is a tax cheat! All those thousands she took from me as rent was never reported. She just didn't want the government to catch on to her scheme. Leslie Dure has also comitted a felony since she likes to open up the mail of the tenants living in her apartment. "Business arrangement" my ass! Not to create a blanket statement here but West Indians really are black jews. Leslie has the personality of a vagina with sand in it. The dog was the only creature I could really stand. Who knew I would have been judged by a homosexual Jamaican nurse from Montreal? Now I have seen it all. I don't feel as though I am losing a home as I never really thought of it as a home really. It was just something to tide me over until I could find my very own place. But I can tell one thing for sure, I always knew in the back of my mind that it would end like this. Someone ought to tell her karma's a bitch. Oh well, no skin off my ass. Sidebar, Since getting back my ruling from the Department of Labor I've put in a letter requesting an appeal. Although I made some "valid points" in my defense including a grievance letter I still put the store and it's employees in danger by leaving the premises. I guess the fact that I was not given proper breaks and exploited by Pratt Institute because I worked on the weekends was not valid enough and completely legal in their myoptic eyes. I was not informed that big employers like Pratt Institute could get away with violating employees rights and labor laws. I guess the current political machine doesn't stop at corporations, it also allows institutions of learning to get away with murder as well. This appeal will lead to a hearing before a judge, if Pratt wants to take it this far then so be it. This is shaping up to be the shittiest weekend ever. At least I have my production of "Happy Hour" to look forward to every Saturday night!

Wendy Has No Clue!

The following is my letter to the New York Post:

After John Minelli reported on the casting tour for Wendy Williams' biopic I really wanted to express my disappointment with what went down at the Hartford, CT call. Once she caught wind of the alleged registration fee of $20 Wendy told those auditioning to "leave their wallets at home". This comes rather late. New York was the last leg of the so-called tour. What went down there in CT was a messed-up! Simply put, those people are not going to see a refund anytime soon. Not only did I see many women pay $20 just to audition, the monitor of the audition was even charging $5 dollars for sides of the film's script. In all my years of auditioning for roles I have never heard of such a thing. Purely, it was a scam and I felt bad for alot of the young hopefuls. The casting call was poorly planned and a bouncer-type even allowed a well-known radio personality to jump the line ahead of me just so he could audition! Here's hoping that Wendy's next venture won't be so sheisty.

Don't know about you all...but I'm here to eat!

Monday my mother was in the hospital having surgery to remove fibroids. It was difficult to see my mother in pain but relief washed over me after she was released Yesterday. Amazing what today's technology and modern medicine can do. While out of state visiting my mother I was alerted by Darryl that the production company producing on-air personality Wendy Williams' bio-pic was in town conducting an open call. Seeing this as kismet I let my family know I had to business to attend to and that I would be returning after my mother's arrival home. Darryl told me that the auditions were being held at the Marriot and I thought that made sense because there is a huge convention center adjascent. I arrived an hour ahead of time expecting there to be a line of people already gathered. There was none. I called Darryl who then checked the Furquaan website only to find that it was being held at the Holiday Inn on the other side of downtown. A healthy 20 minute walk later and I was sitting in the hotel lobby. I waited patiently for nearly six hours to be seen by the director and producer before I did a snafu occurred. The pregnant woman who was the monitor told me that after the guy ahead of me went in and came out I would be next. A minute later some big guy comes up to me telling me that some douchebag radio personality from the radio station publicizing the event is jumping ahead of me to audition. No "please" or request was made on my behalf. It was just simply law. Of course, being diplomatic I didn't make an issue of it. I just waited for my turn. A few minutes later the first guy comes out and so does the monitor telling me that I'm next. So, I head down the hall expecting to run into the douchebag on his way out. I opened the door only to find that the radio announcer was still inside bullshitting with the producer and director. Two staff members of the radio station and the big guy who bumped this guy ahead of me to compete for a role suddenly appeared. I explained that the woman explicitly told me I was next so logically I went on down the hall way not knowing there was an audition in progress. Suddenly, the big guy is telling me I could listen to directions. I countered that I can do so very well and that if this had been New York I would have walked off. After 3 tries explaining myself to the staff members (people in Connecticut are sloooow) I finally revealed that this was a very unprofessional audition process. I explained further to the big guy that I was not blaming anyone just that they have shitty communication with one another. A few minutes passed and he asked to see my resume and headshot. He stood there examining my credentials. Returning it to me he said he could see why I felt the way I did. It's bad enough Furqaan Productions charged hopefuls $20 just to audition! The monitor explained it was to offset the cost of transportation and lodging while on location. The operation was unprofessional and very shady. They even charged $5 just for sides of the script if you didn't have a monologue already prepared. Well, not everyone can have their business run by incompetent splaboos like Wendy Williams does.

Keep on Movin'...Don't stop!

It's been six weeks since the Institute's contested my right to unemployment benefits but that doesn't surprise me. That Pratt Institute engages in unfair labor practices shouldn't surprise anyone. They have been doing it for years and it's time that they face up to their folly. I can't believe I used that word just now. The Institute doesn't have the sense to put the state's Department of Labor in touch with the people who knew my schedule and can answer the questions that come up in this investigations. Or do they? That's quite crafty and time consuming to put a separate company like Tellux, which specializes in payroll, in control of whether someone receives benefits. Simply put, no one should have to work 16 months without an arranged break. EVEN IF IT IS ON THE WEEKEND AND YOU HAVE LIMITED PERSONNEL! Therefore, you cannot fire someone for taking a break and leaving the premises if there was never such a person with equal or higher authority present to cover during the absence. Even day laborers get a lunch break and they aren't even legal citizens! The Institute is run by soulless, calculating criminals!
NUFF SAID!

Just wanted to get that out in the air. Above is a pic from my Getty shoot. I might have another photo shoot coming up soon. During the past few weeks I had to change my wireless carrier because T-mobile likes to overcharge and inconvienance their customers. Although I paid half of the bill with the intention of paying the remainder next week the douchebags blocked access to my voicemail and I could only receive incoming phone calls. As a result I lost a principle role in an uncoming featurette for a film festival.
FUCK YOU VERY MUCH T-MOBILE!


Good news! I'm working on set design and props for playwright Andrea Davis's staged production of "A Love Like Damien's". I'll be doing a reading of "Andre & Beckett", about Andre the Giant and Samuel Beckett's imagined relationship. I never knew they lived near each other and that Andre was afraid of horses. Who knew? On top of that I will be rehearsing for Happy Hour a weekly show about "Sex Relationships & Sometimes Love". Who needs love when you've got beer? Let's hope the "all you can drink" will do more than attract audiences. I'll keep you posted on showtimes at a later date.

Lately, I've been considering a brief foray into porn. Before you say anything I've heard it alrready. Yeah, I'm risking a legitimate acting career by considering such a thing. If you think people are going to notice me without clothing and a raging boner why couldn't they do the same when I'm wearing clothing at an audition? Is it my technique? Am I not right for the role? It's funny how society condemns adult performers for wanting to branch out -even if it's becoming a teacher. How many times do you watch a Jay-Z video or 50 Cent's "Get Rich" before you realize this person was in the business of destroying their communities and the lives within them? Did I miss some PSA or was being a drug dealer a much more respectable than laying pipe onscreen?

I've spoken to my bf, Darryl about this off and on since my current financial situation is looking dismal. It's not like I'm a prostitute. I've been reading the online blogs of performers like Markus Ram for a minute and I like their approach to the business. Plus, I like being adventurous and it's the best workout for you can get (squatting down to plug someones' ass can target those hamstrings and quads!). Of course, as much as I'd like to work with a seasoned pro I realize I'm a big guy and there's a market for that. Recently, Butchbear has African American performer Cole Brookes in a feature called "Truck Stop". He's every bit the black musclebear you'd find in your 'hood , complete with a little heavy metal in the right places. I can't tell you how many times you find attractive masculine hairy dudes who are white and not enough ones of color. We know you're out there guys, represent! Maybe it's time I took up that calling and became the first of hopefully many more to come (no pun intended). You know what they say 'do what you love and the money will come.' Guess it's time I used my other head and followed my dreams.

Here I Go Again...

After finding out that Pratt Institute wants to contest my receiving the unemployment benefits I am rightfully owed after putting up with their abusive, exploitive asses I thought I would be having a bad day. Lo' and behold while watchingTV I see my "Pants Off Dance Off" segment on The Soup on E! the network. It's surprising that something I did so long ago is still circulating. This is the second time this week I've seen myself dancing naked on TV. I'm kicking myself because I'm not getting a percentage every time it airs.

"What About Your Friends?...

Are they gonna be low-down? Are they gonna be around? Or will they turn their backs on you?" Or so the song goes. After ignoring my friend English's phone calls for a week I finally decided to pick up my cell when he called. Last month, after modeling for a series of Kehinde Wiley paintings that have yet to be produced he's under the strange assumption that every modeling job is the same. I put him on to that because I was willing to let him in on earning money and a chance to meet Kehinde. Now every modeling assignment needs the dynamic duo. Little does he realize how hard it is to get work in this town. Let alone paying work! Apparently, he wants me to act as his agent AND manager. WTF? Enough of that shit. I've been rather busy this past week, trying to get as much acting/modeling work as possible now that I am gainfully unemployed. You heard right. I'm on unemployment -and loving it! I haven't been resting on my laurels. Oh no. The minute I got terminated I headed out to get a copy of Backstage and Showbusiness and started looking for work. So, I've been going to auditions left and right. Took a free class with Capes Coaching (waste of money, don't bother) for advice to further my career. Earlier today, I went to an audition at the Atlantic Theater for a production called "Birth and Afterbirth" and I knocked it out of the park! I really don't know what that girl at Capes Coaching was talking about. I elicited a laugh from the auditor. That made my day! All the monologues I perform are chosen by myself. This means there no cliché or stereotyping involved. Let's be honest. There are barely any good roles for actors of my type out there. If I choose an excert from a David Sedaris book it's because I can identify with his character and his humour. If I choose something from a Chuck Palahunik book it's because I'm willing to convey the satirical, and yet at times, gruesome details wherein. If I can identify with it I can perform it. Simply put.

You Better Work!!!

I just got back from my photo shoot for Getty Images yesterday and man, am I tired. You don't realize it but modelling is hard work. Glad my sweetheart Darryl told me to get some rest the night before instead of trying watch "Querelle"(guess French sailors turn me on). When I went in I was so loaded down with stuff I had to take a livery car to Bleecker St. in Manhattan. When we got there the streets were congested and Broadway is a one way street. The driver asked me how much do I usuall pay to get down and like a dumb ass I said $20 instead of $15. So, I wound up giving the hack $25 (I'm not a lousy tipper!) instead. He told me All I had to do was walk up a block to get to 636 Broadway. WRONG. I had to walk 4 blocks, up past Houston to get to my destination. Make no mistake, he only wanted the money not to drop me off at my destination. Be wary of car services outside of Manhattan, they have no meter so they can make up their own fare. Rant over. So, carrying my boo's guitar, Bambi, as well as my rollabout bag and my suit I hiked it over to the studio of Andreas Keuhn, the photographer. The vibe was informal and crew consisted of only 5 people. After I got finished pulling out all of my shirts, glasses, and accessories I showed the stylist who really liked what I had to offer. I was a little disappointed when they wound up letting one of the models hold Bambi for his session but not when I let the make-up artist borrow my black power pick for the black girl's shoot. I didn't let it bother me. I figure if it wasn't for me bringing these items it wouldn't have been that good of a shoot. Finally, I was up. According to the guy in charge of the shoot I was the "expressions guy". Guess I was tapped because of my ability to make great expressions. After all, I am an actor. What bothered me about the shoot was when I was asked by Andreas my age. "Actually I'm 27." That sounded like a lie but what I really meant to say was "I'm actually 27 but my age in the industry is 14." They loved my ability to emote. Going from concern, to laugher, to anger all at the direction of photographer and his project director. An hour went by and before I knew it I was done. Changed into my clothes, filled out some paperwork, and got a nice check. All in a days work. Something tells me I might have a great career in modelling. I really hope to do more someday.

I Hate Being Broke

Well, it's been four weeks and I haven't seen any money from any of the freelance gigs I've done. After speaking with Brett last week on Friday I got the indication he was stalling for time. Allegedly, he claims my check was mailed out and mysteriously cashed. This after he claims we spoke before he left town. "I spoke to you and you said you got it". No, in actuality, before Brett left he and I were going over the time sheet for the hours I worked with him on the Spike TV job. Then he tells me his bank is going to look into it and asks me to forward my address to him via email. My question is why would you ask me for my mailing address again? Wouldn't your accountant retain that information for tax purposes? Brett is full of shit. If he were transparent he would be brown and the only thing that would gravitate to him are flies. He had no intentions of paying me in a timely manner. When my cell phone went dead and I needed a new one I borrowed $200 from Darryl. I don't like to borrow from friends and acquaintances. That $300 could have helped me in the past week. Especially after Bank of America charged me over $350 in overdraft fees I'm even deeper in the hole. Meanwhile, Alejandro's friend still hasn't paid us both for the work we finished back in November 2005 on his B-movie "Seepage". I'll tell you this much, he won't get us for the same bargain basement prices he got us for on the last project. This is the reason I no longer want to work in the art & design industries. BECAUSE PEOPLE DON'T WANT TO PAY YOU AFTER THE JOB IS DONE! It discourages young, talented people like my friends and I from working for individuals and small businesses. I've had it up to here with being without money. I work hard so I should be renumerated. It's only fair. I know this much, after this week I'll never be poor again!!!

Dancing wit myself (oh oh uh-oh!!!)

Yeah, this is my new headshot. The one that I have been carrying around with me. There's a hint of my personality showing through. After my photographer friend Dave took 40-something of them I decided I liked this one. He thought different but after a while he came around to my thinking. I like it and it has been getting me steady work. Just recently I shot a commercial on the LES for Axe deodorant where I was one of the principal actors. Dunno if it's going to be on televison or online so you might want to keep your eyes open for that (hint: I'm one of the guys in white). I wanted "exposure" so badly I went to film my dance segment for the contest yesterday. What was that? You didn't know I could move? Well, with the right music and shoes... This is no average run-of-the-mill dance contest. This is the "Pants off Dance off" contest on Fuse TV (airing April 18th at 11pm, check your local listings). The object was you had to strip to the music they provided -all the way to the nude. Yup, yours truly bust a move till the drawers came off! I enjoyed every minute of it and loved the enthusiasium from the crew. Granted, I know they had seen about a dozen other packages during the shoot but I made it seem like I was a professional. I'm still kind of in awe at what I did. I haven't told anyone, including my bf, Darryl. It takes guts and drive to keep your composure in front of the camera. Seeing that $200 dollars in my hand helped too. It made me realize why individuals in the adult industry are in such high demand. Yeah, I had second thoughts but I was aware that once I go Full Monty the bits would be blurred out. Before I agreed to do it I had to think about how doing something like this would affect my career. Part of being an actor or any performer for that matter is about taking chances. You sometimes have to go out on a limb to get the attention you want. Some actors have no-nudity clauses in their contracts and I respect that. Not everyone is comfortable with letting the world know what their Mama gave them. Shit, I have my own biases about me but I know what I have is beautiful to others. We all do. The human body is a beautiful thing and is only dirtied up by those who have their own personal issues regarding the matter. In fact, after I came back to the green room there was a brotha there having second thoughts. I assured him there was nothing to worry about and that there was nothing to worry about. Of course I was twice his size in build. I hope I encouraged him to go on. Hey, you only go around once!