For years before I even thought about writing relationship books, men and surprisingly many women would say to me, “Rom teach me how to be a dog.” I didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted. After the umpteenth person asked me for advice, I wrote a pamphlet for the ladies called, “Finding a Good Man.” A couple of years later I wrote a pamphlet called “Nice Guys Guide: Meeting and Attracting Beautiful Women.” The Nice Guys Guide eventually evolved into Nice Guys and Players – Becoming the Man Women Want. In Nice Guys and Players (NGAP) I gave advice to men on how to transform themselves into the type of man that women GENERALLY find attractive. I didn’t tell a man how to become a player. A careful reading of NGAP will show that I actually discourage men from becoming players. I’m a big advocate of sexual discipline especially for men classified as Mr. Goodbars. Specifically I don’t teach game.
Now there have been numerous definitions of that thing called “game.” Everything from having basic common sense to straight up manipulation has been called “game.” My definition of game is simply tactics a person uses in sexual seduction. Seduction itself means to “lead astray.” In other words getting someone to do something they wouldn’t normally do. I don’t even teach seduction to close friends. At best I may teach my sons some things if I see they have trouble with women. I doubt they will though because little girls been scheming on them since they could walk. With my youngest before he could walk. I fathered a couple of Pretty Rickys. I will definitely teach them about the pregnancy game girls run. But I digress.
Now I’m going to get a little personal in this blog. Part of it is therapeutic to deal with my own demons and part of it is that I want people to understand the importance of functional relationships. I want people to understand why I keep certain information to myself. There are many books, magazine articles, dating coaches, and seduction gurus who teach what they call game. 99 percent of the information presented is rudimentary and from my perspective laughable. People follow this advice and then wonder their relationships are still jacked up. Many people find that their relationships actually become worse. That’s because many of the so-called experts have little practical insight into the human psyche even in cases where they have professional credentials. Many of these professionals either have problems finding mates or have dysfunctional relationships.
Now there are two basic reasons why I don’t teach game. The first is that on many levels it would be a con job for me to do so. As I mentioned people used to ask me to teach them how to be a dog. Now I could write a book on how to be a dog. I could do videos. I could rent out hotel ballrooms and charge several hundred dollars per head. I could make a lot of money. It would all be some bullshit. Say I did a seminar and 1000 men attended. Out of those 1000 men maybe 3 would get anything out of the seminar. The only reason they would get something is that they were already there anyway. In other words I would only be confirming what they already knew anyway. The men who get the most out of NGAP are the Pretty Boys, Street Cats, and Thorough Dudes. They get the most because I’m confirming what they already know. NGAP is written from a Goodbar’s perspective. Nice Guys have been and are the harshest critics of the book. The few Nice Guys who learned from my book had some Goodbar in them that had to be brought to the surface.
Another reason I say it would be a con job for me to teach game has to do with how I got women. Most of it has to do with physical appearance. There are many dating coaches who loudly proclaim that looks don’t matter. A few will say that looks matter but not as much as game. Both camps are whack. Physical appearance is more than half the battle. Personally I would rate it as 60 - 75 percent of the equation. That’s not a scientific statement, just a personal observation. Now when people were asking me to teach them some things they did so because in their eyes I seemed to have an easy time attracting women. Truth be told some women I’ve had sex with have asked me to teach them some things. Thing is I didn’t tell them anything. The reason I got and still get the attention I do is because of my physical appearance. I’m a 5’11”, 210 pound, buffed, chocolate Black man. I’ve always received compliments on my body. I have never been called fine. I’ve been called cute at best. Women really like my eyes though. I get stares and hellos from random women, including teenaged girls when I’m out in public.
As a result of my physical appearance I appealed to a wide variety of women from around the world. For example I appeal to many women from West Africa and the Caribbean. I know a young lady from Nigeria who affectionately refers to me as “Ibo-Man” because to her I look like a member of the Ibo ethnic group. I also appeal to Asian women mainly because of my eye shape which is almond. There’s a deeper science there which I may get into with another blog. See my grandmother was nicknamed “China Girl” when she was young and maybe a quarter of her descendants look Blasian (Black and Asian). My youngest son when his head is shaved can pass for a Tibetan child. A little known and unexplored aspect of African-American history is that when Chinese workers came to America in the 19th century to help build the railroads they were primarily men. In many cases these Chinese men married and had children with Black women. It is a phenomenon that’s happening in Africa right now. But once again I digress.
Now there is also a class aspect to the physical appearance piece. Not only did I use my genetic physical appearance to attract women but I enhanced it with the clothes I wore. Now I’m an entrepreneur with a modest day job to keep basic bills paid. Back in the day, I was a professional with two degrees. I looked and lived the part. Plus I wore glasses on a more regular basis back then. I was an educated Black man with nice eyes and buffed body. As result I was able to cast a big net attracting not only educated African American women but upper middle class white women and a few middle class Latinas. That’s why I call bullshit when Black men get on social media and complain about Black women chasing thugs. Some do but they tend to be crazy and lower class. The African American women I attracted were primarily AKAs and Deltas, who wouldn’t give a thug the time of day. Based on nothing but physical appearance.
For someone to attract the way I did, they would need to have my same physical package as well as the financial ability to enhance that package with stylish clothing as well as my educational background. Now someone can improve where they are. Quite frankly though the average man will never be able to attract a great number of women. At best most men will be fortunate to find that one special woman who finds them attractive and interesting enough to pursue a relationship.
The physical piece is one thing. The second reason I don’t teach game is because game, no matter how someone tries to frame it, is nothing but psychological manipulation. I’ve had some reviews of NGAP which called the information basic. I even had one idiot say to me, “I don’t think you know how to get girls.” I just laughed and told him that if he really knew how to get girls better than me he wouldn’t have had to buy my book in the first place. I could tell by the look on his face that I rocked his world with that comment. Anyway I don’t teach psychological manipulation because of the circumstances of how I learned the game. In the past I have said that I learned the game from sex workers and street cats as a teenager and young adult. I told some half-truths because I learned the game during a period of my life I don’t like talking about with close friends, women I’ve been intimate with, or even family members.
From the age of six until I was ten I lived in the Anacostia section of Washington, DC. I lived with my mother and sister and our financial situation was unique. Though we lived in a house owned by my Grandmother, we received welfare. The situation was unique in that while my immediate family was poor, my extended family including my Grandmother were more upper middle class. My Grandmother owned several properties while my Grandaunt owned a beach home. My Uncle owned horses. As a 4 year old I had a pony named Hacksaw because he had extra-long hoofs that had to be cut. On one hand I saw and lived the best of life. On the other hand I saw it at its worse.
I was six or seven years old when my mother had a nervous breakdown. She already had mental health issues and I have a memory of her being institutionalized briefly when I was two years old in California. My sister and I stayed in some type of group home while our mother was in the hospital. I specifically remember trying to look out for my sister because though she was older she was labeled mentally retarded. Looking back she was likely autistic but this was during the sixties when autism awareness didn’t exist. Imagine a two year old trying to look out for anybody other than himself. Yeah. Anyway when my mother had that nervous breakdown, my childhood effectively ended. From that time forward I had to think like adult. To get a perspective on this check out this website. Now I was a smart kid at that time, even considered gifted by some teachers. At seven I was teaching myself Spanish and I read at a high school level. I was book smart but I had to become street smart.
Life got interesting after my mother’s breakdown. A mentally ill person living in the midst of an underclass population is a terrible combination. Before her nervous breakdown my mother had fairly functional friends and associates. I emphasize the words “fairly functional” as most of her friends were other mental patients from a well-known mental institution in DC called St. Elizabeth’s which was near our home. They were actually cool though eccentric. They probably wouldn’t be institutionalized under today’s standards but would likely be members of some fringe subculture featured on a reality show. After my mother’s breakdown her associates were members of the criminal underclass. These were the type of men and women who lived off of petty crimes and hustles. And apparently they saw an easy mark in my mother because she pretty much opened the house to these individuals. It got to the point that they came and went like they lived there. My mother would just sit at a table and laugh with her invisible friends. Eventually it got to the point where the local Child Protective Agency had to remove me and my sister from the home. We were placed in my Grandmother’s custody and were technically her foster children.
Now what does this have to do with game? First of all, I was living among the underclass. Underclass folk regardless of race tend to pay attention to everything especially people. You have to pay attention to little things when you’re around people who could potentially harm you. I witnessed a couple of stabbings. There were some sexual predators around there I needed to know how to avoid. An older man had grabbed me one time. Fortunately a kick to his balls took care of that. So I was developing a very good ability to read people. I’ve mentioned reading people before in print but I wasn’t forthcoming in how I developed the ability. So on one aspect I learned how to see past a person’s masks. Women have commented that I have piercing eyes. Now you know why.
Seeing a person’s emotional state is one thing. Manipulating it was another thing. That education came from some of my mother’s “friends.” My mother was very stunning despite her issues. In the late fifties before I was born she worked as a model at a local department store in DC. Think about it, a Black woman who got paid to be a model in the late fifties. She actually had plans to open a modeling school. So with her looks she had zero problems attracting men. Unfortunately the men were lowlifes except for a couple before her breakdown. One I’ll call Ben lived with us for a few months. He was pretty cool. His other women caused some drama with my mother though and she kicked him out. Then she dealt with this man I’ll call Carl. Imagine a heterosexual Omar Little from The Wire and you had Carl. He would take me out with him sometimes and talk to me about life. Carl was a street soldier. He lived by a code. Learned a lot from him. After Carl my mother only dealt with lowlifes who weren’t worth remembering.
I really learned a lot about manipulation from my mother’s women friends. Let me school the reader for a second. In my blogs I often mention “street cats.” The assumption may be that I’m talking about men. Most of the street cats I knew were women. If you look at a Lion’s Pride, the male lion is lazy. He just eats, sleeps, and fucks. Every now then he might fight some hyenas. In a Lion’s Pride it’s the females that hunt for the food. In human society many players and hustlers aren’t men. There’s a whole lot of women who are getting money, cars, and even houses out of men. These are the type of women who REALLY know how to manipulate people. When it came to the women who crashed at the house they gave me deep insight into a woman’s nature. One of the women was a butch lesbian who interestingly enough would get with men every now and then. I know because I walked in on her and a man having sex. The woman who I’ll call Sheryl used to just sit and talk with me sometimes. Now I was cool with Sheryl. She actually had a maternal spirit underneath her tough exterior. One of the lowlife men who came around looked at me and my sister a little too intently. I told Sheryl, she looked at me and said, “I deal with it Rommy.” I don’t know what she did but I do know the lowlife didn’t come around anymore. For that reason I never say or write anything negative about butch lesbians.
Now don’t get it twisted, Sheryl and her friends were no strangers to the criminal justice system as I was informed when the police were removing us from the home. They were predators, pure and simple. These people preyed on weakness. They knew how to push anyone’s buttons. For whatever reason they gave me insights to do the same. Now I could teach people to do the same but for what? To create even more dysfunction? I’m working to create positive relationships. I can make it easier for someone to get into a functional relationship. I will tell a person to work on their physical presentation. I will tell them to work on parts of their personality to make them more emotionally compatible with someone. I won’t tell them how to game someone.
The only thing I will do with regard to game is tell someone who I feel is receptive to my insight is how to avoid getting played. There was a lady I knew I’ll call Evelyn. Now Evelyn was married and very classy. She had that Michelle Obama type of vibe. I saw her at an event and we talked for a few minutes. Just small talk between acquaintances. Keep in mind I didn’t know her that well. As I was about to walk away I said to her, “Evelyn be careful now cause you’re a good woman but right now you’re very likely to cheat on your husband.” She looked at me for a second and said, “You’re right Rom. Here’s why you’re right.” We then spent the next hour talking about issues she was having in her marriage. Keep in mind that she said NOTHING in our brief initial conversation that gave an indication about marital problems. I just read her body language.
One other issue is that most people don’t want to listen anyway. They have an image of a street cat or a player and since I don’t look like either one they think I’m just some square dude like they are. I’m basically clean cut, with no earrings or tattoos. Let me actually share some game with y’all. All these cats who tattoo themselves and want to be about that life are stupid. One thing I learned in when I was around the street cats when I was little was how not to draw unnecessary attention to myself. One way law enforcement tracks people is by their tattoos. That’s like a fucking brand. If the police are looking for somebody and they know the person has say a star tattoo on their neck all they have to do is go around and say, “Have you seen someone with a star tattoo on their neck?” Someone will have seen that person and give them up especially if there is a reward. I learned how not to draw attention to myself. I didn’t just learn from my mother’s “friends.” There were some thorough cats in the neighborhood. One dude I’ll call Kevin was like a ghetto Ninja. That brotha could hide in plain sight and could shake anybody trying to follow him. There’s another cat I keep up with from that neighborhood I’ll call Cedric. Ironically I didn’t know him then. His sister was my classmate in elementary school and we used to hold hands on class trips as travel buddies. Cedric is one of those dudes that would scare Jack Bauer. Good thing I never disrespected his sister. You know I might need to write a book about my time in Anacostia.
There’s so much more I need to say about why I don’t teach game. This blog is just part 1. I’m going have to come with a part 2. I’m going have to tell y’all about the Demon Lovers.
Now there have been numerous definitions of that thing called “game.” Everything from having basic common sense to straight up manipulation has been called “game.” My definition of game is simply tactics a person uses in sexual seduction. Seduction itself means to “lead astray.” In other words getting someone to do something they wouldn’t normally do. I don’t even teach seduction to close friends. At best I may teach my sons some things if I see they have trouble with women. I doubt they will though because little girls been scheming on them since they could walk. With my youngest before he could walk. I fathered a couple of Pretty Rickys. I will definitely teach them about the pregnancy game girls run. But I digress.
Now I’m going to get a little personal in this blog. Part of it is therapeutic to deal with my own demons and part of it is that I want people to understand the importance of functional relationships. I want people to understand why I keep certain information to myself. There are many books, magazine articles, dating coaches, and seduction gurus who teach what they call game. 99 percent of the information presented is rudimentary and from my perspective laughable. People follow this advice and then wonder their relationships are still jacked up. Many people find that their relationships actually become worse. That’s because many of the so-called experts have little practical insight into the human psyche even in cases where they have professional credentials. Many of these professionals either have problems finding mates or have dysfunctional relationships.
Now there are two basic reasons why I don’t teach game. The first is that on many levels it would be a con job for me to do so. As I mentioned people used to ask me to teach them how to be a dog. Now I could write a book on how to be a dog. I could do videos. I could rent out hotel ballrooms and charge several hundred dollars per head. I could make a lot of money. It would all be some bullshit. Say I did a seminar and 1000 men attended. Out of those 1000 men maybe 3 would get anything out of the seminar. The only reason they would get something is that they were already there anyway. In other words I would only be confirming what they already knew anyway. The men who get the most out of NGAP are the Pretty Boys, Street Cats, and Thorough Dudes. They get the most because I’m confirming what they already know. NGAP is written from a Goodbar’s perspective. Nice Guys have been and are the harshest critics of the book. The few Nice Guys who learned from my book had some Goodbar in them that had to be brought to the surface.
Another reason I say it would be a con job for me to teach game has to do with how I got women. Most of it has to do with physical appearance. There are many dating coaches who loudly proclaim that looks don’t matter. A few will say that looks matter but not as much as game. Both camps are whack. Physical appearance is more than half the battle. Personally I would rate it as 60 - 75 percent of the equation. That’s not a scientific statement, just a personal observation. Now when people were asking me to teach them some things they did so because in their eyes I seemed to have an easy time attracting women. Truth be told some women I’ve had sex with have asked me to teach them some things. Thing is I didn’t tell them anything. The reason I got and still get the attention I do is because of my physical appearance. I’m a 5’11”, 210 pound, buffed, chocolate Black man. I’ve always received compliments on my body. I have never been called fine. I’ve been called cute at best. Women really like my eyes though. I get stares and hellos from random women, including teenaged girls when I’m out in public.
As a result of my physical appearance I appealed to a wide variety of women from around the world. For example I appeal to many women from West Africa and the Caribbean. I know a young lady from Nigeria who affectionately refers to me as “Ibo-Man” because to her I look like a member of the Ibo ethnic group. I also appeal to Asian women mainly because of my eye shape which is almond. There’s a deeper science there which I may get into with another blog. See my grandmother was nicknamed “China Girl” when she was young and maybe a quarter of her descendants look Blasian (Black and Asian). My youngest son when his head is shaved can pass for a Tibetan child. A little known and unexplored aspect of African-American history is that when Chinese workers came to America in the 19th century to help build the railroads they were primarily men. In many cases these Chinese men married and had children with Black women. It is a phenomenon that’s happening in Africa right now. But once again I digress.
Now there is also a class aspect to the physical appearance piece. Not only did I use my genetic physical appearance to attract women but I enhanced it with the clothes I wore. Now I’m an entrepreneur with a modest day job to keep basic bills paid. Back in the day, I was a professional with two degrees. I looked and lived the part. Plus I wore glasses on a more regular basis back then. I was an educated Black man with nice eyes and buffed body. As result I was able to cast a big net attracting not only educated African American women but upper middle class white women and a few middle class Latinas. That’s why I call bullshit when Black men get on social media and complain about Black women chasing thugs. Some do but they tend to be crazy and lower class. The African American women I attracted were primarily AKAs and Deltas, who wouldn’t give a thug the time of day. Based on nothing but physical appearance.
For someone to attract the way I did, they would need to have my same physical package as well as the financial ability to enhance that package with stylish clothing as well as my educational background. Now someone can improve where they are. Quite frankly though the average man will never be able to attract a great number of women. At best most men will be fortunate to find that one special woman who finds them attractive and interesting enough to pursue a relationship.
The physical piece is one thing. The second reason I don’t teach game is because game, no matter how someone tries to frame it, is nothing but psychological manipulation. I’ve had some reviews of NGAP which called the information basic. I even had one idiot say to me, “I don’t think you know how to get girls.” I just laughed and told him that if he really knew how to get girls better than me he wouldn’t have had to buy my book in the first place. I could tell by the look on his face that I rocked his world with that comment. Anyway I don’t teach psychological manipulation because of the circumstances of how I learned the game. In the past I have said that I learned the game from sex workers and street cats as a teenager and young adult. I told some half-truths because I learned the game during a period of my life I don’t like talking about with close friends, women I’ve been intimate with, or even family members.
From the age of six until I was ten I lived in the Anacostia section of Washington, DC. I lived with my mother and sister and our financial situation was unique. Though we lived in a house owned by my Grandmother, we received welfare. The situation was unique in that while my immediate family was poor, my extended family including my Grandmother were more upper middle class. My Grandmother owned several properties while my Grandaunt owned a beach home. My Uncle owned horses. As a 4 year old I had a pony named Hacksaw because he had extra-long hoofs that had to be cut. On one hand I saw and lived the best of life. On the other hand I saw it at its worse.
I was six or seven years old when my mother had a nervous breakdown. She already had mental health issues and I have a memory of her being institutionalized briefly when I was two years old in California. My sister and I stayed in some type of group home while our mother was in the hospital. I specifically remember trying to look out for my sister because though she was older she was labeled mentally retarded. Looking back she was likely autistic but this was during the sixties when autism awareness didn’t exist. Imagine a two year old trying to look out for anybody other than himself. Yeah. Anyway when my mother had that nervous breakdown, my childhood effectively ended. From that time forward I had to think like adult. To get a perspective on this check out this website. Now I was a smart kid at that time, even considered gifted by some teachers. At seven I was teaching myself Spanish and I read at a high school level. I was book smart but I had to become street smart.
Life got interesting after my mother’s breakdown. A mentally ill person living in the midst of an underclass population is a terrible combination. Before her nervous breakdown my mother had fairly functional friends and associates. I emphasize the words “fairly functional” as most of her friends were other mental patients from a well-known mental institution in DC called St. Elizabeth’s which was near our home. They were actually cool though eccentric. They probably wouldn’t be institutionalized under today’s standards but would likely be members of some fringe subculture featured on a reality show. After my mother’s breakdown her associates were members of the criminal underclass. These were the type of men and women who lived off of petty crimes and hustles. And apparently they saw an easy mark in my mother because she pretty much opened the house to these individuals. It got to the point that they came and went like they lived there. My mother would just sit at a table and laugh with her invisible friends. Eventually it got to the point where the local Child Protective Agency had to remove me and my sister from the home. We were placed in my Grandmother’s custody and were technically her foster children.
Now what does this have to do with game? First of all, I was living among the underclass. Underclass folk regardless of race tend to pay attention to everything especially people. You have to pay attention to little things when you’re around people who could potentially harm you. I witnessed a couple of stabbings. There were some sexual predators around there I needed to know how to avoid. An older man had grabbed me one time. Fortunately a kick to his balls took care of that. So I was developing a very good ability to read people. I’ve mentioned reading people before in print but I wasn’t forthcoming in how I developed the ability. So on one aspect I learned how to see past a person’s masks. Women have commented that I have piercing eyes. Now you know why.
Seeing a person’s emotional state is one thing. Manipulating it was another thing. That education came from some of my mother’s “friends.” My mother was very stunning despite her issues. In the late fifties before I was born she worked as a model at a local department store in DC. Think about it, a Black woman who got paid to be a model in the late fifties. She actually had plans to open a modeling school. So with her looks she had zero problems attracting men. Unfortunately the men were lowlifes except for a couple before her breakdown. One I’ll call Ben lived with us for a few months. He was pretty cool. His other women caused some drama with my mother though and she kicked him out. Then she dealt with this man I’ll call Carl. Imagine a heterosexual Omar Little from The Wire and you had Carl. He would take me out with him sometimes and talk to me about life. Carl was a street soldier. He lived by a code. Learned a lot from him. After Carl my mother only dealt with lowlifes who weren’t worth remembering.
I really learned a lot about manipulation from my mother’s women friends. Let me school the reader for a second. In my blogs I often mention “street cats.” The assumption may be that I’m talking about men. Most of the street cats I knew were women. If you look at a Lion’s Pride, the male lion is lazy. He just eats, sleeps, and fucks. Every now then he might fight some hyenas. In a Lion’s Pride it’s the females that hunt for the food. In human society many players and hustlers aren’t men. There’s a whole lot of women who are getting money, cars, and even houses out of men. These are the type of women who REALLY know how to manipulate people. When it came to the women who crashed at the house they gave me deep insight into a woman’s nature. One of the women was a butch lesbian who interestingly enough would get with men every now and then. I know because I walked in on her and a man having sex. The woman who I’ll call Sheryl used to just sit and talk with me sometimes. Now I was cool with Sheryl. She actually had a maternal spirit underneath her tough exterior. One of the lowlife men who came around looked at me and my sister a little too intently. I told Sheryl, she looked at me and said, “I deal with it Rommy.” I don’t know what she did but I do know the lowlife didn’t come around anymore. For that reason I never say or write anything negative about butch lesbians.
Now don’t get it twisted, Sheryl and her friends were no strangers to the criminal justice system as I was informed when the police were removing us from the home. They were predators, pure and simple. These people preyed on weakness. They knew how to push anyone’s buttons. For whatever reason they gave me insights to do the same. Now I could teach people to do the same but for what? To create even more dysfunction? I’m working to create positive relationships. I can make it easier for someone to get into a functional relationship. I will tell a person to work on their physical presentation. I will tell them to work on parts of their personality to make them more emotionally compatible with someone. I won’t tell them how to game someone.
The only thing I will do with regard to game is tell someone who I feel is receptive to my insight is how to avoid getting played. There was a lady I knew I’ll call Evelyn. Now Evelyn was married and very classy. She had that Michelle Obama type of vibe. I saw her at an event and we talked for a few minutes. Just small talk between acquaintances. Keep in mind I didn’t know her that well. As I was about to walk away I said to her, “Evelyn be careful now cause you’re a good woman but right now you’re very likely to cheat on your husband.” She looked at me for a second and said, “You’re right Rom. Here’s why you’re right.” We then spent the next hour talking about issues she was having in her marriage. Keep in mind that she said NOTHING in our brief initial conversation that gave an indication about marital problems. I just read her body language.
One other issue is that most people don’t want to listen anyway. They have an image of a street cat or a player and since I don’t look like either one they think I’m just some square dude like they are. I’m basically clean cut, with no earrings or tattoos. Let me actually share some game with y’all. All these cats who tattoo themselves and want to be about that life are stupid. One thing I learned in when I was around the street cats when I was little was how not to draw unnecessary attention to myself. One way law enforcement tracks people is by their tattoos. That’s like a fucking brand. If the police are looking for somebody and they know the person has say a star tattoo on their neck all they have to do is go around and say, “Have you seen someone with a star tattoo on their neck?” Someone will have seen that person and give them up especially if there is a reward. I learned how not to draw attention to myself. I didn’t just learn from my mother’s “friends.” There were some thorough cats in the neighborhood. One dude I’ll call Kevin was like a ghetto Ninja. That brotha could hide in plain sight and could shake anybody trying to follow him. There’s another cat I keep up with from that neighborhood I’ll call Cedric. Ironically I didn’t know him then. His sister was my classmate in elementary school and we used to hold hands on class trips as travel buddies. Cedric is one of those dudes that would scare Jack Bauer. Good thing I never disrespected his sister. You know I might need to write a book about my time in Anacostia.
There’s so much more I need to say about why I don’t teach game. This blog is just part 1. I’m going have to come with a part 2. I’m going have to tell y’all about the Demon Lovers.
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