The Exotic... Uhh, Erotic World of Buck Bedford

Buck Bedford's Bio/ Buck Bedford (aka Buck Bedford) was born in Brooklyn, New York to one proud parent, his mother. From an early age, Buck was a dreamer. In his mind, he saw himself doing things, different things, exciting things! However, he grew up unsure of himself. When asked, he always had a hard time explaining himself to people. He had a condition, that was later diagnosed as SEX DYSLEXIA. Often misunderstood, Buck learned to accept his condition and get on with his life, no matter what anybody thought of him. As a result, Buck has developed a strong confidence. He rarely speaks but the voice in his head is loud and resounding... It is almost like you can hear what he is thinking!

We at MTURDS have struck a deal with Buck to post his journal, which will be entered twice a week. Hopefully you, the reader, will find it interesting and insightful and learn how to deal with whatever disability you may have. ENJOY!

CRAP/ My Journal by Al Brathway

November 2nd, Friday/ I just got finished reading an Internet article about the boy who is accused of starting the California fires. A neighbor who seemed to know the kid said that he was a "...good boy!" After reading that line I got to thinking, if the kid who set the fires that destroyed homes and people's lives is a "good boy" what the hell would a bad boy do? Last time I checked, a fire is a pretty horrendous thing! Okay, being shot is pretty bad (especially if you die!) and a car accident would rank real high... But I gotta tell you, fire ranks right up there with the best of them. When I was a kid, I played with some matches (ONCE!). When my mother found out, she convinced me that that was not the way I wanted to go if I was to be a good boy. Her words, combined with a sure 'nuff ass whipping, did the trick. Yeah, yeah... I know... You shouldn't whip your children. I didn't like it but I did not know the number I could call to turn my mother in! (I was never good at math!) But I got her message. I can only imagine what I could get away with if I was a kid now!/ CRAP!

CRAP!/ My Journal by Al Brathway

October 26, Friday/ I just read where Britney Spears' momma is going to write a parenting book. Are you f*#king kidding me!/ CRAP!

CRAP/ My Journal by Al Brathway

October 24th, Wednesday/ I just read an article Barack Obama's campaign strategy. It said that he is campaigning like he is a "regular guy." Trust me... I have no objection to the strategy but he better be careful. The last guy who campaigned that way screwed up the whole world with his "regular guy" mentality and goofy looks. I'm thinking that we need a "presidential" guy with a presidential brain who can undo what the "regular guy" did. However, if his (Obama) strategy is to act like a "regular guy" and he gets in and screws everything up (that's right, it can get worse!), he should get a "regular guy" beat down. (That could happen too considering Obama is a Black guy! They might take his behind down to Jena and comense to...) Wait a minute... I must be trippin'! Obama is not going to be President!/ CRAP!

CRAP/ My Journal by Al Brathway

Oct.19th, Friday Afternoon/ I was watching a show called Hollywood's 20 Sexiest Jobs and I have to say that I have new hope for finding a rewarding job with great pay! The #1 sexiest job in Hollywood is being a body parts model. Hey, I'm packing my bags and moving to Cali because there was one body part that they did not talk about that I have plenty of... I'm going to be the first body part model (who, by the way, is Black!) and model my beer gut!!! I will corner a market! I'm tall, dark, handsome, and I have the most photogenic gut you can imagine. And why not? When I was in elementary school and the teacher talked about what we should aspire to be, I knew then that I did not want to be a policeman or a fireman. Oh hell no! As I got older, reality set in and I found out that politics played a big role in a Black man getting any kind of job in America. I'm not good at playing politics but I sure am good at drinking beer! Tell the truth, you have not seen a beer gut body model anywhere. And, if I cannot get an agency to rep me, I will start my own agency and pimp myself. I wouldn't mind having me for a boss anyway...!/ What the hell am I saying?/ CRAP!

CRAP/ My Journal by Al Brathway

October 8th, Monday/ Today is a holiday but it feels no different, to me, because I don't have a job... So what's the difference? Everyday is a holiday to me! However, this is the time of year, for me, where there are a series of holidays that effect me in the weirdest way. They are Holloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. These three holidays reming me of some real good times during my childhood. Man I enjoyed these three in particular. And, it wasn't just the holidays that did it for me... The anticipation of them was smokin'! As a matter of fact, the actual day was anticlimatic compared to the days prior to... But Father Time and adulthood has ruined everything for me. I don't even get pleasure watching kids go through the anticipation process. I'm like, "...let's just get them over with already!" And, to "add insult to injury," the new year comes in after Christmas and my birthday is in that month. Then I become a year older and fall deeper in the abyss of depression. (Hey, I'm in the last third of my life!) Soon it will be all over for me! Then what? Hell? (Are there holidays down there like the ones up here?)/ CRAP!

CRAP/ My Journal by Al Brathway

October 7th, Sunday/ Ahhhh... Sunday! Today is the day where my dreams become my realities and my realities become my dreams. Sunday is the one day where my creative juices flow like Niagra Falls (on the canadian side!). I think like I've never thought before on Sunday. My possibilities become my realities. Sunday is the day when I really believe in GOD, not because it is HIS day, but because it is my day. It's the day HE gave me to rest in my brain. I don't worry on Sunday. I can't. My mind won't allow it. Sunday is the day I purge the poison out of my system./ I have a reason to enjoy this particular Sunday. This is the beginning of a week where I will receive something (someone) who has saved my life. No, not my physical life but my mental life. This particular Sunday is the day that my whole life has changed for the rest of my life. It may only last a day but this Sunday is the day I waited for my whole life./ Everybody should have a day like this. It is disappointing to think that many won't. With all the shit that is going on in the world, many won't be able to even grasp the concept of what I'm talking about. Under any other circumstance I would be right along with those people... But I cannot be that way anymore. I don't miss it. I used to be real comfortable in it, but not anymore. I just wish I could convince others to join me but the task is too great to believe in. For years I tried to get out but the crabs kept dragging me back in the barrel. Damn... That mental barrel is a bitch! Maybe I'll be able to lead my example? Maybe not.../ CRAP!