No Better Than Studio Gangstas (Layman Pimpology IIIS)

As with everything else in this book, this is not to be actually implemented in any way. 

I am Astar, a robot. I can put my arm back on. You can’t. So, play safe

 

I’ve been sharing with you my style of pimping, but I think it is only fair to show you some other techniques so that you can have perspective. What I’m going to give you now is a page of Caesar Slick’s book. These are options, and I hope to give them an honest evaluation. His pimpin’ is almost diametrically opposite to mine, even before he hatched his dastardly plan to unionize, but the how and why of it I will mostly leave for the reader’s discernment. I trust that you are not a complete idiot. However, you may have taken umbrage at aspects of my pimpin’, but that’s probably because you’re a squeamish bitch. What you should have taken notice of in my system is its solid ethical core.[1] Although this might not be immediately apparent, it is the basis of great elaborations pertaining to nothing less than the universe and your place in it. In the account here of Caesar Slick, you will see pimping at its most vulgar.[2] It is category one pimping, at best, and often it is not even pimpin’ at all, but what I want to point out are those things that are unique to his practice.

 

To understand Caesar Slick’s business model we need to understand how it was organizationally structured. Caesar Slick chiefly used two lieutenants and an enforcer. The first was Peter the Procurer, whom you have met and I have dispatched. His remit was importing. The second was Loverboy Louie.[3] He was charged with exporting. Knuckle Duster the Kniggro was the muscle.[4] From this basic division we will see how Caesar slick operated and how his pimping techniques were a product of this simple division of labor.

Peter the Procurer effectively had an office job at The Cow Door. He dealt actively with human traffickers. Often these transactions were for Asian women. He found that the Chinese were cheap, but Indo-Chinese cheaper.[5] He bought them in bulk and stocked up Caesar Slick’s rub-and-tug The Good Auspicious Rucky Rotus Petal. Because his Far East suppliers placed limited value on human life, and trafficked in all types of flesh, the opportunity that presented itself in the red market proved too strong for Peter the Procurer. This was lucrative and began to affect more traditional business decisions. Depending on market conditions, sometimes he put healthy hookers under the knife and harvested their organs.

This became indicative of a lot of the goings-on in The Good Auspicious Rucky Rotus Petal as it was managed from the administrative seat at The Cow Door. Non-traditional medicines were embraced such as rhino horn, monkey palms, tiger piss and heroine.[6] His association with tongs saw the introduction of soft contraband such as irregular clothes and furniture. This continued to build as his contacts put him in touch with Chinese arms merchants. Armalites, various machine pistols, Semtex, and bouncing betties followed.[7] All of a sudden Caesar Slick had his fingers in many, untraditional pies when it should have just been in pie.

This diversity put pressure on his primary holding The Good Auspicious Rucky Rotus Petal. One day the cops busted down the door to find naked Chinese women cutting up cocaine assembly-line fashion. They had expected to catch these women whacking off tricks, but what they found were women with no papers, but in possession of large quantities of drugs, human organs and rhino horn. Caesar Slick would come to rue this discovery by the pigs. [8] It did make him realize something though. Rub-and-tugs were not overly productive without these extras. Most of the time the bitches were just sitting around playing Mahjong and waiting for drunk white guys to show up. Even when there were tricks, things could be better managed. The massage pretense was really just a waste of time. There was a lot of overhead as well. Fuck this shit. These bitches should be on the streets putting in a proper grind. Dispose of the pretext and streamline.

In the fallout of this bust, the scope of Caesar Slick’s operation changed. Becoming less focused on Asian girls, Peter the Procurer looked to homegrown talent. Loverboy Louie took control of overseas operations. On assignment in Albania, Loverboy Louie was tasked with corrupting the innocent. Here he would make semi-impoverished girls fall in love with him as he promised a new start and the riches of the West. Once confidence was won, these girls were smuggled into the country. Destitute and vulnerable, these girls proved pliable. However, their cultural attachment to headscarves proved difficult to break. The problem is that it makes them look either like peasants that you don’t want to fuck, or like gangster bitches you don’t want to fuck with. Either way, it doesn’t spell money.

Stateside, Peter the Procurer got involved in drugs again. This time it was to control hoes. Freebasing crack-cocaine was pretty popular with the back ones, shooting cocaine-heroine speedballs with the whites.[9] In this way, dependencies were created and he had these hoes selling their ass for their next fix.[10]  However, when this didn’t prove to be sufficiently motivating, he would pimp stick them. This is a traditional practice involving the binding of coat hangers together and using them to batter hoes. If you like, you can heat them up and introduce them to orifices. Peter the Procurer liked. I question the wisdom of this practice from start to finish, but I’m trying to be impartial.[11]

A final method for compliance was the kidnapping of children. This was effective and this is where Knuckle Duster the Kniggro came in. Hoes will really work if they think that the life of their child is in danger.[12] Again, this is not something that I strictly advocate. It’s all rather amateurish and, again, you’re mixing your vices. It’s best to stay unadulterated pimp. It keeps the veneer of respectability. You don’t want to bring the heat down on your head because you have a semi-conscious ten-year-old in a sack and in your trunk.

Having been recalled, Lover Boy Louie was sent into the rural South to round up fresh turnouts.[13] Appalachian country. Hillbillies can always be lured by the promises of the big lights. No problem. The trick was to win their confidence like the rest, but he would proceed in a twofold manner. First he would get them all strung-out and see if he could get them into an interracial gangbang. If he succeeded, he had won. He would threaten to send pictures of little Luanne all high and with bloodshot, glazed eyes taking three or four black cocks at once. That will definitely knock old Jed off his tractor. If she didn’t bite on the gangbang, he would then just roofie her and then subject her to the same.[14]  This second way was messier, but equally effective. Ultimately, compliance was secured. It was good if she had a child, because, as outlined above, these could be kidnapped and held as collateral.[15] In such a manner, this is how Caesar Slick built his stable, but we should consider his style of pimping beyond procurement.

Now, as already noted, Caesar Slick was effectively a category one pimp. The background work was arranged by his two lieutenants, but on the street Caesar Slick ran his hoes through the machinery of the Game. Being all image can be a strength, but, if you start staring too closely, it can be mesmerising and distorting like the mirrors in a fun house. Put a circus monkey in there and his attention will be held for a couple moments as he encounters his likeness and then its varying distortions in this hall of mirrors. Put a bitch in there and she’ll spend a lot of time considering herself. The ape says, Fuck this. Fobbed epistemology so cheap it is not worth the price of admission.[16] The bitch tries to find her likeness, then flattering and unflattering re-proportions of it.[17] The bitch says, That’s me, but so is that, but that is not. It’s actually a matrix of negation that seems to posit singular wholeness, this wholeness in the distance that is given solidity by the whirl of image in a type of parallax.[18] This is called The Meretricious Mirror and in it you see through a glass, darkly. It is a trap for all bitches, but it can have the most deleterious effect on hoes as they already have little going for them.

This was Caesar Slicks’ problem. He encouraged this type of identification because he knew no better. The hoes would go into tailspin with street identifications. This is problematic and can be responsible for something known as ho-feminism. This is where you have mean hoes. They’ll be on the corner throwing up gang signs, swearing like sailors and intimidating tricks.[19] You don’t want this. Somehow they think it is empowering and the inverse of their sexual function.[20] They’ll be saying all kinds of nasty shit.[21] Calling elderly folk pussies and cocksuckers and saying things to school children like, Suck my dick, bitch. This is unpleasant and should be nipped in the bud. If left unattended, the identifications with other aspects of street life will intensify and you’ll find them out stealing, bearing weapons and trying to clash with the police.  

I hope I have presented a reasonable account of Caesar Slick’s pimpin’. As I started coming up on the scene, he began to question many aspects of it himself. This is where his plan to unionize came in and to whitewash his failures.[22] He wanted job-shadowing, flat rates, income pooling, and some rudimentary form of ho representation.[23] He had a big operation, but his hoes weren’t as good as mine. It was around this time that I got to thinking that this motherfucker has to go.

.

[1] Again, this will be significantly elaborated upon in PIMP a(e)s(thic)s: Motherfucking. At this point you may have to take it as an article of faith. This should resonate later, once you’ve read PIMP a(e)s(thic)s,

 

rāsotsavaḥ sampravṛtto

 gopī-maṇḍala-maṇḍitaḥ

yogeśvareṇa kṛṣṇena

 tāsāṁ madhye dvayor dvayoḥ

praviṣṭena gṛhītānāṁ

 kaṇṭhe sva-nikaṭaṁ striyaḥ

yaṁ manyeran nabhas tāvad

 vimāna-śata-saṅkulam

divaukasāṁ sa-dārāṇām

 autsukyāpahṛtātmanām

 

Okay, it should have been in Devanāgarī. Ignore the irony.

[2] As KRS-One said, “trying to be macks, but acts [sic] like ignorant blacks.”

[3] Don’t wanna wash no face, but these twats are what give the lumpenproletariat a bad name.

[4] Knuckle Duster the Kniggro thought of himself as a gangsta, but his real name was Clarence. He was still scary though.

[5] Truly bang for buck. You can stack Cambodian women up like cordwood inside freight containers. Just try to provide some ventilation, otherwise a lot of them won’t survive the journey.

[6] Only some of the above is good for virility. I cannot account for the rest, and I use none of it. However, I do have a gorilla hand that I use for an ashtray, and sometimes when I feel guilty about masturbating. You needn’t do the like, but don’t stress if you do. Neither he nor you will ever have hairy palms.

[7] It sounds more like his connections were with the Provisional IRA, but I assure you this was not the case. Maybe the old IRA with the bouncing betties, but no.

[8] I sympathize here. I hate the meddlesome nature of law enforcement. Like Snoop said, ”187 on undercover cop.”

[9] There are different types of gear, but an integral instrument is the ‘runcible spoon’.

[10] I’ve stated elsewhere my reservations about drug use. Amongst other problems, the way I see it is that what you don’t put in at the front, you won’t get out in the end. You can save more money by keeping a ho strung-out, but she’s not going to pull it in as well either. She can also become unreliable and start holding out on you. Like Biggie Smalls said, albeit in a very different context, “you think a crackhead payin’ you back, shit forget it”.  You can’t trust a junky with money. You don’t want the pusher being her priority, it wrecks Cock. The truth is that you should always be, like Rakim said, “Paid in full.” Best if it’s upfront. I like to keep retainers from tricks on hoes so the bitch’s ass is already rented out in advance. It also establishes good custom.

[11] Instead of fucking up hookers and their pussies, I did something different. I disciplined them with pussy projectiles. What are those, you ask. Well, this is when you take a cat and, if you’re right handed, overhand grip it with your left and cup its ass with your right. Flip the cat so it’s upside down and over your right shoulder, wind up, and throw it as hard as you can at a hooker. It doesn’t have to be at her face. What happens though is that the cat goes berserk because of the nature of the handling, and because it is completely disoriented at the point of release which is effectively a shot-put. The result is that he’s scared and the hooker’s scared. His claws are extended as he desperately tries to aright himself, but he can’t because the distance between him being airborne and impact with the cowering hooker is about four feet. The beauty of all this is that cats are inexpensive (just go around and throw a bunch in a sack, Iike a Chinese restaurateur, or just go to The Limp Noodle itself, so that you always have them on hand) and the hooker doesn’t get permanent injuries. Cat scratches are just that. Thin and shallow lacerations, with the possibility of cat scratch fever. If you really want, but this is somewhat vicious, you can put the hooker and two cats in a sack and introduce them to water. In poena cullei the Romans used a dog, monkey, and snake, and threw it all into a river. This is terminal, and the animal combination isn’t the easiest to get your hands on. My approach was only disciplinary and the variation was to put this sack in the bathtub and start filling up the water to a two-thirds. This is very, very noisy and you’ll likely have some mopping to do later.

[12] The inverse is also possible. You can also kidnap elderly relatives, but this doesn’t have the same effect. In part this is due to hoes usually not having a meaningful family beyond the product of irresponsible pregnancies. As Jimmy Savile said, Stick to the children.

[13] He also used Cheryl the Shill who he would plant in a high school to tell the girls how cool it is to take drugs and to become a whore. To my understanding this only produced mixed results.

[14] Loverboy Louie actually typically used either chloral hydrate or GHB (gamma-Hydroxybutyric acid), not really roofies (Rohypnol/flunitrazepam), but he called it the funky cold medina. Sometimes he would just coldcock them.

[15] This is still staking a wager. Often hoes don’t even care about their semi-retarded crack-babies. This is understandable.

[16] True of any old ape, but Hanuman saw through this shit the quickest.

[17] It’s true. That’s why they often say, a cute bitch is obtuse.

[18] This lateral or forward movement stabilizes. However, when a bitch is stationary the Droste effect will have her fearing annihilation and suicide is soon on the cards. Only a pimp can stare into the abyss and smile. But for the how and why, you will need to turn to PIMP a(e)s(thic)s: Motherfucking.

[19] Saying shit like, “Oh my Lanta!”  Uncle Jessie up in the House.

[20] Gangster bitches are never attractive. However, I have seen a couple productions where Maria from the Sharks looks kind of sexy. Also, some of the bitches in Switchblade Sisters are hot. But, as a rule of thumb, no. They’re like spotted hyenas with horrifying pseudo-phalluses.

[21] “Skandalouz hoes”, like 2Pac said.

[22] Although unions make no sense, if you really consider it, we are basically run like a guild. There is no top-down structure as such, but there is a lot in the way of self-regulation. Freelance work is frowned upon and certain industry standards are expected. The market is partially controlled and the physical and spiritual welfare of hoes is considered, though often dismissed. With the typical oral transmission of pimp wisdom, apprenticeship is central and membership partially regulated. Most importantly, fuck with a pimp’s business and he’ll go medieval on your ass.

[23] When I told him it sounded more like ho communism, he just smiled. That’s when I could see in his smile that it was all about me. He just said,” On ne saurait faire d’omelette sans casser des œufs.