dollar bills psycho roundup
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DOLLAR BILL’S PSYCHO ROUNDUP – Fire! Fire! + The PIMPIN’ Postman + all the NYC ASIAN escort reviews!

Ten or so years ago, Asian houses weren’t as ubiquitous as they are today. There were like three or four of them all featuring ten or so hustlers sitting on a bench drenched in pink lighting as you entered the sullied portals. They all knew each other – and all the owners were certifiably insane. When one got a little too busy for another’s liking, the boss would pick up the phone, dial 911 and scream “Fire! Fire” at whatever address. The fire department would rush over to find ten scantily clad Asian hoochies – but no fire. And that would shut the place down for the night.

Well that bull shit ended a long time ago until just recently when once again the cry of “Fire! Fire!” has been deafening Koreatown! Because the offended party has a regular who’s a police officer, they have discovered that most of the calls are coming from a phone booth at 42nd St. and 2nd Avenue. The phone girl gave me a buzz and asked what house is located closest to that phone booth. I gave her the answer (which I’m not going to write here) and commented “Why don’t you ask your friend to get you a copy of the tape? You’ll probably recognize the voice!” She thought that was a capital idea. It stands to reason that if they know someone well enough to dig in the files and obtain the location from which the calls originate, they could get a copy of the tape as well. Kind of cool! Like an episode of Law And Order! Anyway…I’ll keep you abreast (so to speak).

And speaking of “abreast,” here comes the cavalcade of Asian cooze prefaced with a long but fascinating tale from the archives of ESCORT MAGAZINE about one of my most ball-breaking but eye-opening ex-clients who now occupies a cell at Club Fed for the next 24 YEARS!!

GOIN’ POSTAL – THE PIMPIN’ POSTMAN

Rain, snow, sleet or hail…Knowledge had a bitch for sale! But now it’s all over ‘cause the FBI put the big, scary homey in jail! Dollar Bill recounts the saga of “The Pimpin’ Postman,” a most unique civil servant I’m sure you’ll all agree!

It mostly goes without saying that in the course of selling bodywork ads to anybody sporting the cash to pay the freight, I bump up on some unsavory types. It isn’t just girls who buy ads — it’s gangsters, drug dealers, pimps and hustlers of all genres. And it follows that I’ve done business with more than a few individuals who’ve awakened one day to find themselves incarcerated not just for a few hours or days — but a few months or years! And this issue’s newsmaker goes by the name of Matthew Tompkins aka Knowledge Born, one of the most unique of my constant parade of advertisement-seeking societal malcontents and misfits.

Knowledge came to me some six years ago when I was employed by Action Magazine. At the time, the boss’s publication was a going concern with monthly advertising revenue in the neighborhood of $70,000 per month! From the numbers you can reasonably deduce that prospective advertisers called the company frequently — and that said advertisers were dispersed in a more or less orderly fashion to the staff in much the same way cards are dealt at a poker table. Howard got one — then Duane got the next — then I got the third — and you get the idea.

So at some point, The City’s pimps — having been frustrated by street enforcement — decided to advertise in newspapers to find clients for their slaves, rather than have their girls work the streets and get arrested on what seemed like a daily basis. Thus, Howard got a Ferrari-driving/History Channel-watching flesh trader name Divine (running Strawberry Dreams for those who remember) and I got a big, scary mountain of a black man name Knowledge Born. And it wasn’t long before I realized that Knowledge was no dummy or fool. He asked all the relevant questions and negotiated long and hard before finally withdrawing a huge wad of cash from his baggy pants. Clearly, he boasted the most adept and agile mind of any of my clients.

And over time, what most impressed me about Knowledge was that six years after I’d met him, he basically still had the same stable of ladies coughing up all their money — to which I would quip “What’s up with the David Koresh deal? How the fuck do you get hoochies to stay with you for years when you take all their money?”

The fact was (and is with many pimps) that they set up an economic structure that benefits not just them — but the girls they enslave. Not to belabor a point I know I’ve made on several occasions, but the pimp game is not always what it seems. By me and my observations, the girls who submit to the program are so dependent and in search of “daddy” that if a guy sees to all their needs (housing, weed, make-up, clothing, bling, travel etc.) they’ll stay with him forever! Knowledge freely admitted that there was no way he was fucking all the girls. His business was to collect more money from a girl turning tricks than it took to support her. If she didn’t produce and blacken his bottom line, she was gone. If she made money, she stayed. It was just as simple as that.

Recruitment was of course a curiosity. Where did he find the girls to submit to the program? The first place was homeless shelters. Who better to matriculate than girls down on their luck hoping against hope to find a man to give them housing, a peer group and especially a dope weave? The jump from homelessness and destitution to a warm bed and a sorority-like social structure was a no-brainer. Provided they had some body parts and a little bit of a sex drive and/or a modicum of talent for performing a variety of sex acts, he could turn them and make a buck in the process.

Second recruiting ground was the streets of the ghetto. Case in point: On too frequent occasions, I would hop the subway to 125th Street to meet Knowledge to arrange for his ads. The board room? You guessed it — the back seat of his $100,000 Mercedes. One day while I was snapping it up with Knowledge and another pimp named The Captain, a very fetching Asian hoochie with a phat booty — and sporting a low-rider pair of camouflage pants — switched by all alone walking the boulevard. The conversation stopped as Knowledge jumped out to push up on the girl. The Captain and I snickered as if to say “Oh boy! Can’t wait to watch this unfold.” And so…Knowledge bum-rushed the girl right there on the sidewalk, enticing her with some bull shit about free passes to a Puffy party and before long was writing down her name and phone number on a piece of paper. Five minutes later he returned to the ride with a big shit-eating grin on his face boasting “Ya see. Every bitch got some ho in her. It just takes a nigger to bring it out.”

And that wasn’t Knowledge’s only memorable one-liner. The day after a 26” snowstorm, I got him on the phone and joked “So Knowledge. Ya got any bitches out on the stroll selling ass in a pair of hot pants?” I thought I was being a cool white boy. Without a hitch, he fired back “You know dat! Rain, sleet, snow or hail…Knowledge got a bitch for sale.”

The third place Knowledge recruited was jail. For this he enlisted the aid of his girls who as a matter of course went to Rikers on numerous occasions. Always looking to amortize, the ladies were instructed to keep their eyes out for ho’s looking for new and better pimps to slave for. And you know how that goes. Girls get together in jail, suck on each other’s body parts in a corner, and gossip about their “man.” This apparently, was a very lucrative recruitment area which eventually got the girls themselves indicted once the hammer fell.

Over time, I became familiar with his operation — as he would have me meet the girls in hotels or street corners for payment — or even dispatch girls to my apartment for photo sessions or just plain sessions to reward me for a job well done.

At one point, I even wrote a feature for the predecessor of this magazine called “Pimp For a Day” about his operation. And it wasn’t all that complimentary. After reading it, Knowledge called to say “White boy! I just read your shit. I wanna write a pimp’s rebuttal and I got a bitch who wants to write a ho’s addendum.” His offer was so articulate I responded “Not only will I print whatever you write…but I’ll print it verbatim! No changes!” I was hoping for something completely illiterate with which I could continue to fuck with him. But what I got was actually half way decent — much more educated than anybody in the mainstream would have envisioned.

Anyway…Knowledge was a tough sell — and a difficult client — but a guy who sort of made sense in a bizarre sexual netherworld. And then last week, an old taxi buddy with whom Knowledge and I had attended a New York Giant football game once upon a time called up to say “You’re boy’s all over the news.” Knowledge had been busted for trafficking underage prostitutes across state lines. “It’s the FBI dude!” So I turned on the TV that night and there was Knowledge’s big black ass being led into a police car — charged with the aforementioned offense. Ten other faces were shown, eight of females — five of which I knew to be the girls who’d been with him for the six years I’d known him. Wow!! In my eyes, he was a jive black man getting over on/providing for helpless ghettos hoochies. In the eyes of the law, he was a serious criminal. And the kicker was that supposedly, Knowledge was a postman moonlighting as a pimp.

The Captain called a few days later to confirm that in fact Knowledge WAS a postman (something I never knew) and that he had no idea that his buddy was dealing with underage girls. He warned me not to call the phone that Knowledge had contacted me from just days before because the FBI had tapped over 4000 phone conversations — a few of which I knew were with me! I scanned my mind for a moment thinking what I’d said in the course of those exchanges and came to my senses quickly realizing that there was nothing incriminating because I simply do not break the law doing what I am doing.

Often people ask me why I don’t book girls or start my own agency. And the answer to that is always the same: “What I do is not against the law. I’m not trying to jump to the other side here. Rikers Island holds no mystique for me!” And so I just won’t do it. Regardless, for Knowledge, he’s looking at REAL time. Not just a few months…but several YEARS.

I’m sure the authorities feel they’ve freed his slaves to become productive citizens. And I see their point. But I know differently. They’ve freed his slaves to wander aimlessly until they find another pimp — hopefully as benevolent as Knowledge — to take care of them. I know his girls well enough to realize that they don’t want to take care of themselves. They want a daddy to do all that shit for them. And thanks to the long arm of the law…they’ve lost that. Whatever…they’ll find their way…or they won’t. Just so they don’t find their way to me, it’s all good — as I continue to observe the societal outcasts who sell and promote “companionship” in the big city!

5 Responses to “DOLLAR BILL’S PSYCHO ROUNDUP – Fire! Fire! + The PIMPIN’ Postman + all the NYC ASIAN escort reviews!”

  1. Hey Bill Loved yr recount of the Postman-you should be writing dialogue for film &TV! Any decent all-brasilian houses out there? And why is Brooklyn so neglected? Lastly where are the “deals” in this shitty economy? 200. is fucking steep for us working “stiffs” Keep up the good work! Best-Fullking

  2. Whats with the fire dept coming in, wanting money for not having fire extinguishers?

    Are they real firemen? hmmm,

  3. That’s a hustle and I think the guy got busted for it. If they aren’t firemen, the girls should shut the door.

  4. Hey,
    Is HoneyHoneyNewYork out of business?
    Their website is down.

  5. “DOLLAR BILLS PSYCHO ROUNDUP – Fire! Fire! + The PIMPIN Postman + all the NYC ASIAN escort reviews!

    dollar bills psycho roundup” was in fact a superb article,
    cannot wait to look over a lot more of your posts. Time to squander numerous time on-line haha.
    Thanks for your effort -Fannie


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