lalloyd123

Very good news for ESTHERO fans! From Karen Bliss of Rolling Stone Magazine: Subject: Re: ESTHERO Date: Tue, 3 Sep 2002 00:25:10 -0400 yes, i have heard some new tracks. she is finishing up the new album. it will be out on reprise/warner, likely early next year. Now, I can get back to unpacking.

What ever happened to this artist? I moved this past weekend and while going through boxes of CDs, I came across Breath From Another. What a great record this is! Does anyone know if she's even recording any more and if so will ESTHERO be releasing anything in the near future?

I was torn but you are spot on. What is one to do?

You don't like the story? There are plenty of "Is my girlfriend cheating on me?" or "I met a guy at Sound Factory who I'd like to fuck but is it too soon" type tales that I'm sure you'll find entertaining out there. Read those and save your bitching for your room mates. FOCUS on what you like, girls.

Frankfurt is not on many peoples wish list when it comes to places that one would want to visit. It's a stop over, of sorts. Even the people who work there don't stay on the weekends. It reminded me of US cities like Cincinnati and Richmond. You know that they exist but why in the fuck would you want to go there?!? My flight arrived early on Sunday morning and after I checked into my hotel, I ventured out with video camera in hand looking for something to photograph. I had planned to extensively document this business trip. I wanted to do the whole "tourist thing" if at all possible. That was my plan, anyway. I saw the big train station and walked though the underground mall that was very much like an American mall but underground. Go figure!!!!! Quickly I realized that this town sucked ass and there was no amount of German beer that would get me into the swing of things. Maybe it was best that I hold onto my cash and tough it out until I got back to the Brooklyn Ale and drugs that I could easily find in New York. I called Rachel (one of my co-workers in Frankfurt) and asked her what was up with this this place. She was going to the opera that evening but would be happy to show me around afterwards. We agreed to meet at a local bar at 11:00 p.m. and I tried to nap for a few hours so that I would be in good spirits for what I thought would be a fast but furious night out. It was raining cats and dogs but I was undeterred when she arrived at the bar. We had met before in Paris at one of my companies notorious drink-fests. We reacquainted ourselves over wine and ventured out into the night. It was going to be a night of bar hopping which was fine with me because that is one of my favorite things to do. One bar, two bar, red bar, blue bar. Rachel was from America but had been living in Germany so long that she resented American. "You're so American!", she would say. "You're starting to fucking annoy me. Maybe we should end this evening before I this gets ugly. Plus, you've got to work in the morning and I don't want you to feel as if I'm your responsibility.", I said. We were both getting drunk and I don't know about her but when I get drunk and someone gets confrontational, I'm not having it. I could tell that was her game. She was into being cute and difficult. A long time ago, that was cute but not now. I'm too old for that shit. I tell her to point me into the direction of a night club and that she could go home. She takes me to a club but it sucked and then we went to another one that was really jumping. The only problem was that she did not like house music and said that the place was nasty. It was my kind of place. Hot, dark, really good music, lots of people bouncing. I got her a drink and bolted to the cozy dance floor. "I Feel Love" was playing and thought how my friends would really dig this place but instead I was in a club with a woman from Alabama who forgot that she was from Alabama. "Sorority Cunt! Fuck that bitch. Maybe she'll leave while I'm dancing. I just hope that no one steals my jacket.", I thought. She was sitting at that bar not having any fun so I walked over to her and said that it was time that we left. The night was going really badly. My buzz was gone and I was feeling very little joy. "You're moody. It must have been the long flight here. You need to see some women. I'll take you to see some dancers and maybe then you'll relax.", she said and in no time, we were in a strip club. The women were nothing to scream about but they were naked and that's all that really counts. I tell her that I'm going to get a lap dance but she needs to come with me to act as a translator. I go to the back and point to one of the woman and we head to the back. Rachel follows me and I get about ten minutes of a show that I could have seen at Vinyl. "How much did we pay for that?", she asks. One hundred Euros.", I say and she smacked my face. "Don't you know anything?!? If you are going to pay that much money, you should get fucked for it. You are so American!!!!", she screamed. "You need a whore. Let's get this straight, I'm not going to fuck you but you really need it. I can tell. I'm going to take you to some places that I know. You'll get what you need.", she said. OK; not only was this woman being difficult but she just smacked my face. I said to myself that she is just being one of the guys and that she's only try to help me navigate my way through a foreign land. Tough love. We head to whore house number one. The women were heinous! Whore house number two was no better plus I was starting to break a sweat climbing those narrow stairs. The women stand or sit in the door ways of rooms about the size of collage dorm rooms. There are standard prices for blows and fucks but negotiation is always welcome. If you want more time or something a little bit more kinky, you'll pay more. Say, if someone specialized in S&M, they would have all of their gear on the wall so that you'd know that they were good to go. I tell her to pick one out but she needed to come in there with me because I needed a translator just in case my whore wanted to renegotiate mid-session. She picks out a little Latin girl for me who was thirty Euro for a blow and suck and this was a really good deal in her opinion. The process was comical. Rachel shuts the door and sits in the chair, I hand this woman the money, I drop my pants, the woman put on a condom on me, sits on the bed and starts to blow me. I start laughing out loud and my companion urges me to hurry up. I really could not concentrate because the scene was just so bizarre. I tell Rachel to get on the bed and lift up her coat so that I can see her ass. She finds no humor in this and tells me that she is going to stand out in the hall but I should hurry up. Back to business. With my game face on, I went to work. "Job well done!", I tell my whore and give her ten euro as a tip. She can't speak any English and thinks that I want something else and starts to unbutton my pants again. In broken German, I tell her thank you and head out. I'm hungry now and ask Rachel if there is a place to eat. It was about 5:00 a.m. German time and I had not eaten anything since the flight. We head to a Turkish greasy spoon and immediately start to argue about nothing. "Here were go again.", I thought. One minute she's really fun and the next she's bitching at me about god only knows what. She was even complaining about my choice for dinner. I decide that it's really time to end this evening and ask for the check in that universal air writing thing that everyone hates so much. I'm not saying anything at this point. I was so mad that my face was on fire. We reach the taxi stand and oddly enough she tells me that she had a fantastic time and that I was so much fun. "This bitch has been in Germany too fucking long", I thought. I got into the cab and sped back to my hotel. She called me on my cell phone and asked if I had made it home alright. I had to laugh. She actually called me to check on me. Maybe I had misjudged her. Maybe not. Monday was spent watching German television. I found a British pub close by and even internet access. Work was not until Tuesday so I was out in the early afternoon with video camera in hand hoping to catch something interesting on film. Once again, there was nothing to see. Nothing worth filming so that I could look back and think to myself how fun this town was. I had slept like shit on that hotel bed so I was moody. I figured that a blow job was in order so I headed back over the Red Light district for some relief. A big neon arrow above one of the doors drew me in like a moth to a yard zapper. More of a club then a whore house, I thought that this was much better then the places that I had seen the night before. I already knew the rules so with euros in pocket I climb the stairs and looked for the women. I wanted something different this time. Two girls would be cool. I wondered how much that would cost me. Maybe $200. I found what I was looking for. They were sweet, really. A blond and a brunette. They worked as a team and had obviously done this before. They wanted to talk when they found out I was from New York. Wanted to know everything about the city, the towers my life here. I wondered how women who were so pretty could be selling sex in a place like this. This was no time for show and tell. There was work to be done. The clock was ticking. They told me that I could stay as long as I wanted to and that if I needed more money, I could go to the ATM which was conveniently located on the lower level. The time that I had left was plenty for where I was going. I was not trying to make a night of it there so within fifteen minutes, I was finished. I thanked them both for an interesting time and they urged me to come back the next evening for another session before I left the country. Getting laid by two HOT women could not have been more easy. You kick out the cash and you could fuck for as long as you wanted and if you ran out, there was an ATM right downstairs. I've spent hundreds of dollars out getting fucked up and come home with nothing to show for it but here was a town that sex was there for the asking and at a reasonable rate. What a great thing these whore houses were. I needed to eat but I was coming back to this place. To get back in touch with the American in me, I headed over the McDonalds. Plus, this was no time to burn my cash on an expensive meal. There were whores out there with my name on them and I was going to get all that I could. Mc-Wert (value in German) meal number four eaten, I headed to a bar for a beer and some quiet time so that I could figure out who I'd fuck next. With a game plan, I headed back to the houses and shot the shit with some American soldiers. We traded tips on the best houses and laughed about the ugly ones that we had both seen. I would have been content to just hang out drinking with my country men but these boys were on a mission and were seriously in combat mode. There fever pitch got me back in the mood and off we went. We split up in teams and I was paired up with a guy from Cleveland. I found one cute little woman who looked like she'd fit in better at Buzz night then in a whore house. I thought that she'd fit in perfectly at some rave dressed in baggy jeans, glow sticks in hand, a whistle in her mouth and a sun visor on while dancing that annoying little raver girl dance that is as recognizable as a dollar bill. This was my next stop. She was sweet and funny right away. She had worked in the "trade" since for eight years and was only twenty four. She worked seven days a week, twelve hours a day and even told me how much the rent was for her room. She gave all of her money to her pimp and had zero savings. I felt for her. I honestly did. Part of being a good whore was to be friendly. Building her client base was no different then the tactics that a barber uses. Be friendly and giving the customer good service was the key to making good money. Looks help but it's really not essential late at night when drunks would wander in looking for a blow job or a quick fuck before going home to their families. She asked me how much women made in New York as escorts. I'm no regular John but I know for a fact that they make hundreds of dollars an hour. She told me that she hated her job but this was her job. I understood completely. I hate my job just as much as most people do but I have to do it just to survive. In broken English, she told me that she wished that she had a rich family so that she would not do this for a living. I was starting to have doubts about doing this girl but I had already given her my sixty euros. There was no getting that back. "I like your skin color. I'm really white (sticking her breasts in my face) but your skin tone is so nice. My pimp is black too but not African American like you.", she said. I told her that I had changed my mind and that I just wanted a shoulder message. She could keep the extra money as a tip. She told me that she like me and that she would do more for no charge but I was really not feeling it at that point regardless if it was free or not. I asked her how much longer would she turn ticks. How many more years would she work in houses like this? She had no where to go and no skills. What could she do? Where would she go? Who would want to have an ex-prostitute as a girlfriend? She knows that she's stuck in the life and that was that. I left feeling sorry for her. She told me not to look so sad. She wanted me to leave with a smile on my face. She said that this was her life and she accepted it and so should I. We shook hands and she told me to stop pass before I left. She owed me a "suck and a smile". Tuesday was training day so I focused as much as I could on the Germans as they gave one presentation after another. Jet lag was really kicking in at that point and I was exhausted. I wanted the day to be over. I wanted to get back in bed and speed the night away so that I could get on that plane and come back to New York. The workshop ended at 4:00 p.m. and after a bullshit session with my German and French counterparts, I was back at the hotel. I packed, made my car reservations and arrange my wake up call for the morning. I could not get the raver whore out of my mind for some reason. I had to go back and see her. Maybe I could give her some words of wisdom that would save her. Maybe I just wanted to clear my conscience. I was feeling really guilty. I had a black medium sized F Train baby tee shirt that I had with me from the stock pile of New York related souvenirs that I had taken to the Frankfurt office for them. All of the NYPD and FDNY baseball caps were gobbled up by them in the blink of an eye. I'd given Rachel a black and white Brooklyn Rocks baby tee and had the F Train shirt for a woman named Petra who without my knowledge was fired over Christmas. I thought that I'd take it along as a kind of going away gift for my new raver friend. I thought that maybe she'd be busy turning tricks or think that I was some kind of stalker showing up at her job. Much to my surprise, she grabbed me by the hand as soon as I arrived at her door. She remembered me. "You look tired. You have to fly in the morning and should sleep.", she said. "I have something for you. It's something small and won't take a lot of your time but I thought of you.", I told her. She told me to come in and she shut the door behind me. I reached in my bag and pulled out the bag with the tee shirt in it. She opened the bag and her eyes started to get all red. I thought that she was going to cry. She pulled off her tube top and ran into the bathroom the emerged moments later with the shirt on. "Look at how good it fits! What does it say?", she said. I told her that it was the F Train that goes between Brooklyn and Queens New York. "My clients never bring me gifts and you don't want anything in return?!?", she asked. "Just a going away present. I'm leaving a little piece of New York with you.", I told her. She asked me if she I had a card with a mobile number on it. She wanted to keep in touch. I had a well documented experience with an Israeli Au Pair on a business trip who wanted to keep in touch and that women was not even a professional hooker. I thought for a second then reached in my bag for a business card. How likely would it be for this girl to ever call me? Not fucking likely so I handed it to her. "If I send you money, can you buy shirts and jeans for me?", she asked. I told her that I would and looked forward to hearing from her. She gave me a big and very sincere hug and took the tee shirt off saying that she did not want to mess it up. She stood in front of me topless and told me that I made her day. I was genuinely pleased with myself. As I walked from her room down the hall towards the stairs, a crowd had former around one of the door ways. In the open door way, a short fat man well into his late seventies stood there in full S&M gear being beaten by woman as he masturbated. She shouted at him partially in English and partially in German about what a worm he was. "This place was Hell", I thought. I hope that my raver whore will be alright but I hope more that she does not call me.

Why would you want to get married?!?! Fuck that!!!! Stay with the guy but remember this is not your momma's time. People are not getting married like they used to. If getting married would make yourself complete, you need to focus your energy on a guy who wants the same thing that you do.

As someon who loves to bump until the cows come home I know this is going to sound odd but I hope that you stayed off the pipe.

Check out nu-prgressive era that's also mixed by Red Jerry. Both are too deep for words.

The fact of the matter is that I'm a House head and damn proud of it. My friends are all little Tranced out E-Tards and juice heads. I accept that fact. The problem is that I want to go to Vinyl for new years and they are split between Sound Factory and Exit. I want to hang out with my crew but New Years only comes once a year. Do I roll with them or do I stick to my guns and rock it out with Danny?

The crime is not the cheating because we all do it. The crime is getting caught. There is no need for any extra drama so just pack up your gear and move on with your life. There is more pussy where she came from.

Happy Birthday. Now, DANCE!!!

Honesty is the best policy.

This whole thing is just one big mess any way you look at it.

Poor Jesse just does not know when to stay out of the spot light. If he's wise, he'll sit this one out. He may end up with a Navy smart bomb in his alread loaded crotch.

Water, water and more water. You've just got to keep drinking water up until the time that you have to pee. Also, since you'll be pissing as clear as a Mistic spring, you need to get some red meat in your system for color. A big thick steak should do the trick. Just keep pissing. Those cleaners don't work worth a shit. Good Luck, fellow pot head.