Pastor Michael Brooks\ Dick Watch: Day 4

“Hey, y’all – my name is Michael B. and I am a serial sexter, perennial blackmail victim and abuser of public monies.”

(Group: Hello, Michael!!!)

“I am here tonight not by my own choice  ’cause I did nuthin’ wrong. Hey, I should have probably not sent those pics of my dick, you feel me? But you gots to admit they were damn good, right?”

“Anyhow, like I was sayin’ I ain’t here by choice. No, Sly said was there any hope for me to keep my seat…I’m sorta a big deal here, you probably recognize me, right?… if’n I’m to keep my seat, and The Lord KNOWS I need to keep my seat to Help My People!, well, Sly said I had to come to these meetings until I got better. Not that there’s anything wrong with me, Lord no!”

“Anyhow Sly says I acted “inappropriately”, whatever that means. I mean, that bitch was begging to see the Black Mamba! I’s just helping a sister out, you see what I mean? Um hmmm. ..”

“And that money? Sheiiit, ain’t nobody blackmail Michael Brooks! I mean to say, $15K for an event with Mayfair, hell any of the Mayfairs, that’s cheap, that’s what I say. Wasn’t no blackmail to it…what? Sheiiit, mutherfucker, I knowd that Mayfair is a hotel! It’s over in Germany somewhere, right? I’s just checking to see if you knew. Merryweather, that’s what I said!”

“But that was money I was going to approve anyway, blackmail or no. Plus, like that bitch wanted $60K to not tell my wife ’bout me waving my dick around all over Facebook. $60k? That bitch be trippin’! She think Mable’s gonna let me give her $60k? Oh, hell no! When Mable heard of this I got right with Jesus and gave my heart over to him right quick, I guarangoddamntee you. Lots and lots of prayer, right there on our knees on the livin’ room floor. I tol’ Mable I was powerless over my dick and she tol’ me she’d take that dick all away from me if it was tha fuckin’unmanageable and if’n I wanted to see a power greater than myself keep fuckin’ around and she’d whup upside my head until I came to my senses.”

“When the prayers were over I went in the kitchen and tried to get right with the Yellow Pages, searching for the FBI number to make ammends but couldn’t find it anywhere. Well, sheiiit, if’n it ain’t in the Yellow Pages, it ain’t anywhere I could find it. But I texted ‘Nicole’ — not like that! –and tol’ that cow I was gonna tell the F.B.I.! Can you believe that lyin’ bitch? She say she already done tol ’em !!”

“Hell, doan make no difference anyway: all the stuff’s out in the open now, right? T’aint no more (praise Jesus, please let there be no more !) Cain’t noone make me step down from the city council: Sly aint’s got the balls and the rest of the council? Sheiit – can you spell P U S S Y? uh huh, thas what I’m talkin’ about!”

“And now that Mable’s letting me sleep in the house again, what’s the worse that can happen? Maybe Yael T. Allah Akbar writes sumthin’ in the Star? Or the bloggers start makin’ fun of me? How long can they do that? Sheiit – how bad can that be? Aint nobodys pay any attention to thems no how. I’s the one people need to pay attention to.”


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