The Portmore Dilemna- is a chick worth the traffic?

Required Equipment for trip to Portmore

So I’m on the causeway bridge- post road paving-, gas fumes, police squaddies on the corner, loud Portmore taxi music, a construction dump truck every 10 feet, bumper to bumper traffic and one dude who wants to take a serious dump.

I ask myself how the hell did I reach in this position. Me stuck in traffic, going to meet some girl in PORTMORE, and not even a BJ in the distance for my troubles venturing “Ovah di Waters”.

It takes me 7 minutes max to reach any of yardies in Kingston 8. It takes me 20 fricking minutes to reach this chick. What is it with a Portmore chick? They’re defined by- most of them as having bubbly personalities and upbeat, but to tell you the truth, the good looking part is far and few between.

All natives of this island, definitely talk too much Creole patois for my fine taste. It did indeed take a while to get used to, and it sure helps the situation if you mock them as they speak. I’ve found waving shrimp and pasta or fried fish and festival in front of them, tames there aggressiveness for a period of 30 minutes allowing them to socialize with persons of the Kingston 8 district. You must be modest in your attempts to nourish them with uppity food as they grow to have a liking for the finer things and will soon start to burden your pocket with delicacies other than the well known Portmore food staple- KFC. Also, they are food monsters- I know of another Portmore chick that asks for pieces of foil paper at every function she goes to.

So in asking if a Portmore Girl is worth the travel, you have to ask yourself a couple questions:

1. Can you put up with the bad English?
2. Are you willing to increase your gas purchase per week from $500 to $1500.
3. How do you feel about being cooped up in a 6foot by foot cell..I mean room with Portmore sized mosquitoes and Portmore heat.
4. How do you feel about your only culinary options changing from the vast amount of delicacies in KGN, to a limited, grease laden KFC, KFC and did I say KFC, every quarter mile?
5. Are you willing to invest in a mandatory Electronic Mosquito Swatter?
6. Are you willing to come up with new and innovative ways to explain why you won’t be able to drop her ass home? (I’ve found that the “working late” line only works for max one month, after which, they tend to memorize your working habits.)

The Rat Race

Portia, Phillips and Old Boy Omar. While some of us are concerned with the new leader of the PNP, Jim Screechy seems only concerned with who will look better in the most critiqued position in JA.

It’s all trivial pursuits and cosmetic appearances I’m concerned about. I did a poll and asked person the following questions; let’s see who scores the most in these paltry categories:

Questions	Simpson-Miller	Davies	That other Dude…oh..Phillips
Most expected to die of a coronary/stress related Disease.	3%	56%	41%
Most use of “ahmm”, during speeches/debates.	20%	50%	30%
Most use of the absent mind stare.	10%	20%	70%
Who seems to get first ‘dibbs’ on the latest model Mitsubishi Pajero.	15%	54%	31%
Most likely to use bi-focals in spare time to wreak havoc on unsuspecting citizens..ahm I mean insects.	ZIP!	33%	67%
Who didn’t pay attention in Public speaking class.	5%	80%	15%

Portia Simpson-Miller- Eloquent, tasteful and highly popular to female masses wearing only brightly coloured bras and tights; as well as loose wrist males. She boasts a popular rating unsurpassed by her colleagues, as she is the only politician smart enough to know about the points and popularity one can score simply by showing up at public audiences and looking like you give a damn. Portia could easily win the battle- if the decision was left up to the general public and/or if we lived in a country that would ever see a skirt in such a momentous position.

Davies- Absolutely notorious. His notoriety surpasses Portia only in the fact that he’s the reason most Jamaican motorists carry a ‘half a lass’ (small cutlass) in their car. The mere thought of having a chance to slash this mans tires or legislative writing fingers come at a risk Jamaicans are willing to take.

Davies is undoubtedly the cause of every Jamaicans’ “Blood-cloth!”, “Jeezaz Christ”, “Kiss mi Neck!”, “To Raghtid!” and other profanities after realizing how much G.C.T has amounted to, after each and every single purchase island wide.

Feared by the general public, especially near to the national budget debate, when citizens, already riddled with every tax under the sun, believe that even Jamaican popular culture scenarios are vulnerable to the tax fangs of Davies’.

I speculate the following are probable taxes-based off the enormous revenue they can generate for the Government:

• Midnight Parking Tax on Knutsford Blvd, Kingston.
• KFC, Manor Park, Friday Night, waiting line tax.
• Downtown Sidewalk Higgler Tax.(Baggies & Bingo’s seem to have a huge profit margin down there)
• Capital Crime Tax (to be imposed on sentenced prisoners for each life they snuff out)
• White Collar, Kingston 8 Crime Tax
• Portmore Residents’ Housing Expansion Tax ( applicable to 1 bedroom houses that miraculously turn into 5 bedroom, 2 story houses overnight.)
• Uptown Kid’s Travelers’ Tax (presently under the disguise as “speeding tickets”) on route to Heroes, Emancipation, Labour Day and Easter Weekend parties.
• Jamaican “Rotisserie Chicken Craze” Tax. (Talk about a freaking benefit to the bachelors and wutless housewives man!

PHILLIPS- the person partly responsible for every defunct crime fighting initiative.
Silent, swift and damn near forgotten in terms of publicity. Countless times during this article I had to Google this dude! He’s been around so long, but I’ll be darned if I can remember his first name for more than an hour. Very notorious for hiring a deranged psychopath as Police Superintendent to do his bidding on the streets of Jamaica. ( See article entitled, “Operation Kingfish-JA’s new crime fighting initiative)

I'm back in two shakes of a lambs tail!

Hello loyal subjects. Due to the suppressiveness of my 9-5, I haven't been posting as regular as I would like to.

Some developments have occured, and I promise to you, my sheep ,that I will now be delivering a modest amount of my 'dope' to you.

In conjunction I will try my best to actually respond to the comments that you leave behind, instead of just reading them and quitely calling you a doosh bag.

Who the Hell is Ms. Right? I’m looking for Ms. Right Now!

When I started writing this piece, my sole purpose wasn’t just to try and make an extra buck, this serves as a Public service Announcement to all my brothers.

I want to enlighten the masses about the painful but undeniable truth- there is no “Ms. Right.” It’s a phony prophecy conjured and hammered into our heads from watching those blasted animated Disney movies at an early age, promising everlasting, unwavering love and happiness.

There is no right chick, we men are fickle, and only deal with what feels right at the time. After each painful removal of our heart by that girl we had a crush on, guys quickly figure out what to do next time-why search, when you can wait until something drops on your plate? That’s what dog’s do and they’re happy, right? So instead of going down the depressed route and asking yourself if you’re really suppose to be gay because of so many failed relationships; look on it the realistic way- all girls come standard with a minimum of 6 basic flaws that we men can’t control: Weight Issues, Friend Issues, Mental Issues, Hair Issues, Skin Issues & last but not least- the overuse of the little orifice we like to call the mouth, The Talking Issue.

Using my PIMP experience, I’ve come up with a couple of female categories that I guarantee will cross a male’s life during one point in his life. These categories, however paltry do represent true to life episodes of some writers’… I mean some dudes dynamic story. Read on and see if you can identify a type of girl that has crossed your path.

Remember guys, the secret to getting over any girl is to have a good insurance policy- have a backup chick. I use the best one out there, it's called “Pimp Protection”.

The Wifey
The closest specimen ever en route to the fictitious notion of “Ms. Right”. Normally she is viewed as the first girlfriend from the days of high school.

We normally illustrate this girl as “the one who got away” and never had to tuck in her belly while doing so. The reason this girl slipped through you buttery-ass fingers is due to some uncontrollable occurrence: Migration, attending University abroad or because of sexual tension -as the wife NEVER puts out- you are caught sniffing...I mean searching around in her delicates’ draw. She’s the girl you compare all the other girls in your life to. The one you find yourself chatting to for hours on MSN Messenger, when you should really be concentrating on your 9-5 job. No matter how much effort you try and put into getting her back, you find yourself repeatedly slamming into the “Best Buds” wall she has formed between the both of you.

The All out Hoe
Also defined as being at least two years younger than you. This variety can be found grazing any trendy store. Eye contact is made, mouths salivate, ‘tents’ pitch and she gives you every opportunity in the world to get dem digits. Yes, it’s as easy as that. The next day you get to talking and behold- the first question to come out her mouth is if you’re a virgin, and if so how many positions and places have you had sex. After being a bit dodgy with the question and finding out that she has done ‘it’ almost everywhere including her ex’s car bonnet, she reveals to you the only way a rendezvous can happen is if you pick her up at her aunt’s house- as the ‘pops’ is a Pastor, has some idea about her past ‘conquests’ and wouldn’t approve of any gentleman callers sniffing around the porch-which leads to the verification of the Jamaican Myth: females spawned from ‘men of the cloth’ are the “Worst bad bruck Pinckney on the face of the planet!”

So after getting all the particulars straight with the chick, you rendezvous, do the ‘do’ and get to stepping. After a couple ‘rumbles, you both have your full, it’s neither here or there. No calls, no need to pass by aunties house anymore. Easy come, easy go.

The Juvenile a.k.a Ticky Ticky
This variety is defined by the capacity to always be laughing and/or giggling about almost anything in sight, or anything that come out of your mouth. She has the affinity to be light headed most, if not all of the time, which results in and compliments her bold and wild freakiness. Example: Subject will try and bestow southward pleasures on you, or try and make you play “Hide Frankie the Finger” while her mom is watching The Learning Channel in the next room.

Subject is also characterized to be the MOST manny manny girl ever- due to her age she is always reliant on the attention of a wide variety of men.

The manniness in her comes to a climax while at some party that you both attend, she dances with every guy except you, as you stand by watching like the teenage bait that you are.

The Disheartened Wench
This character only comes along as a result of you and your ‘boys’ sticking to the ‘G Code’ that simply states: “Sharing is caring”. This character is normally recommended from a close friend. The subject is still not over THAT friend, so the timely intervention & soothing company of another male is key. Still not over the pain of lost love, most conversations are filled with, “I just can’t believe he did that.” to which -if you’re smart- you’ll reply, “I know just how you feel.”

After enduring a couple weeks of neediness on her part, if you pull this off right enough, coupled with strategic pathetic sad puppy faces, it’ll definitely get you to where you want to be: a comfy parking space at Devon House, at night, Air Conditioning on the lowest possible temperature and a baton twirling security guard amidst; left baffled as to why your car is the only one with foggy windows.

The ‘Joe Grind’ Experience
This species is defined by her stunning looks. She’s the type that EVERY guy goes after. No one is immune to her beauty. The short of it is that she is all pretty face but no character whatsoever- but her ass is too fine to pass up, even if it leads you down a road of destruction. How do you meet? She’s got a man, they’re having problems, and she calls you every night in tears after they come off the phone. She needs comforting. Comforting leads to, “Hey what you doing for lunch tomorrow?” Lunch leads to long gazes and playing footsy under the table of Pizza Hut, oblivious to her friend sitting right beside you.

All of sudden you both are the quintessential “Batty & Bench” -always seen together. A day doesn’t go by that she doesn’t call you or flirt with you. Your natural human response is a fast and steady development of an oily ‘pudding’ in your back, until one day after weeks of resisting her temptations you give in.

From that day on, you are an official male matey. All her friends see you together but have no idea what’s going on. Constant Joe grinding is the order of the day, she can’t get enough of you, and vice versa. You find every parking lot in both major universities to quench the lust for each other, every free school period an opportunity to drive back home together. You’re enamored by her beauty and the ‘props’ you get from other guys for actually knowing this chick. You eventually cause the break up between her long time boyfriend, and all her friends find out.

You’re status is now raised to “Top Shotta”, as you are the “guy to break up this great relationship”. Eventually Karma is the bitch she always is, and what goes around comes around. She moves on to some other dude, as the relationship is “too much to handle” and “everyone is talking”. You’re a train wreck and sad that you’ve lost the best piece of ass to ever cross your path, but what always brings a smile to your face is the reminiscing of the way you ‘wore that out.’

The Christian Chick
After your many college years of pimping, you decide to take a break. Maybe you need a little Jesus in your life. You’re weary from the long and treacherous road of College Hoes. The thought always crossed your mind, but you never believed you would ever find a good looking Christian chick. So you find her. She’s a 7, but that’s ok, as there’s almost no good looking Christian chicks in Jamaica anyway.

Her attributes are immature behavior and what I like to refer to as ‘Chicken Coop Syndrome’-locked off and totally unaware of society’s norms and values because of her devout love for God. You find her passion for God mysterious and enlightening- she actually has your lazy behind going back to church, and quoting scriptures. You can see a future ahead of you: Kids, picket fences, a dog named Rambo and the smell of bacon; however you are always questioning yourself if the sex will be any good, when you finally do get some -will she consult God first if I tell her my fantasies of wanting Rambo and the Parakeet watching us have sex?

Later on you realize that she’s not really mysterious; she’s actually just fucking boring. You’re not allowed to watch a freaking horror movie, your beloved Sopranos, or your Sunday Night HBO line up- as it’s ungodly and she doesn’t approve of such things. You ask yourself if you can stand another Saturday of watching freaking “Shrek” with her baby sister.

Because of her ‘Chicken Coop Syndrome’, she doesn’t respond well to problems, and the first thing she does when hardship arises is to run and drop the Jesus Bomb on you-“I’m sorry, I talked to my councilor and she said that if I don’t feel comfortable about something I should just let it pass.”

The Conclusion? You tell yourself never to talk to another girl that doesn’t know her left foot, from her right.

The Snake under Grass ‘Ho’
The MOST deceptive bitch ever to ever cross your path. She is characterized by the only girl to slip by your pimp radar and do the pimping herself…on you!

She is defined by her family problems, constant talk about marriage and a better life which is anywhere but home, away from one or both of her annoying parents. She makes you feel like a king for the first couple of months. Bending to your will, and most importantly- into any pretzel shape you desire. You put food in her trough whenever she comes over, as for some reason she isn’t well fed at home.(which is ironic considering the last sentence on this type)

You’re amazed of the girlfriend attributes she has: Rubbing your back while you watch Television and being cool enough to actually own and play a video game console, but still you keep your distance, pimping isn’t easy after all.

However, after a couple of months of a trivial relationship and squabbles, while still your girlfriend, goes abroad and comes back married. Yes married. No matter how deceptive and evil it sounds you strangely find yourself relieved and getting over her with ease; because of the one problem that stood out from the moment you met her, the reason you never carried her ass out in public, the thing that irked you silently, the one thing, no matter what excellent things she pulled off in bed- still pulled at the steel core of your masculine shallowness and inner sanctity-she was a porker.(fat/swine/Ms. Piggy)

The current state of Rockfort Mineral Spa

Once upon a time there was a beloved place of rest and relaxation named Rockfort Mineral Spa. It was a place where you could go for the aesthetic pleasures of bubbling heated water or bonofide relief of certain ailments with the aid of varying mineral baths that where at your disposal.
(SKIP A COUPLE YEARS AHEAD)
The roach motel now run by Mr. Prakash, a man obviously devote to the ways of making a quick buck, (The way of the coolie) is an absolute atrocity! The beloved Mineral bathe is now ‘lucrative’ in collecting a couple dollars from neighboring patrons to access the make shift pool, gently laced with cement dust floating at the bottom. Other services offered are meals from a less than appetizing kitchen that I have personally been in to inspect, and occasional users of the mineral bathes.

Changing Area and Bathrooms
This area actually consists of an uncovered labyrinth, exposed to the sun and traffic. It obviously best serves as an area for persons on the compound to come and have sexual encounters, as there are simply raggedly old concrete booths, with wooden doors, ready to drop off their hinges. Most stalls bare graffiti signs detailing the number of sexual exploits of conquered females/ males in the booth and the said positions they where delivered.

The Spa Area
Mr. Prick..I mean Prakash, has the entrance floor to this area flooded with water…for whatever reason, I guess it has to do with fueling prospective clients the desire to get wet?? Maybe?? Anyway, the Spa areas, although in working condition is unsavory. What can I say? The tiles in the spa in which you sit, the floor, the walls, even the wastebasket in the corner is a site to be seen…or not. I guess persons wishing to get some type of therapeutic benefit from here will have to be completely focused on the supposed benefits, and stay clear of any presumptions that the treatment, aesthetically, will be pleasing.

Mr. Prakash, after taking up the position of management blames his ‘loss’ of business due to the fact that the nearby super giant company, Caribbean Cement Co. located beside it is to blame, as the dust from the plant has floated over and, “mashed up the business”.
I have a clear alternative for Mr. Prakash..a few sticks of dynamite will solve your problems. Look into it sir and reap the rewards.


Jimscreechy