Here we are. A new world. A new day. A new PK.

For the un-indoctrinated, among you, I welcome you to my little world. This isn’t the first iteration of this world of mine. My former world collapsed under its own weight. It became a darkness that was all-consuming and pulled all of the light in me past the event horizon of logic. And so we begin again under new management. Warning — this blog ain’t for the faint of heart. I’m over-sexed and border on raunchy. I’m uber-liberal. My favorite word is fuck. And my brand of humor is as caustic as that green shit that was blood in the Alien movies. Oh, and if you run across a word that don’t look like proper English, just sound that shit out phonetically. Country gramma gon’ be in full effeck on this hurr blog, ya hurr? I’m a city boy now, but dialect runs deep y’all.

Let’s start with a little more about me, shall we? Yes, I’m the son of a preacher man, but I ain’t no kid. The oppression that is growing up gay, Black and dorky in the deep south left me trapped in a vulnerable and fearful state of being with a cast of characters that I created to keep my psyche safe. At any given moment, one of them “had the body” — had control.

There was Lee, the lost little kid. He never looks anyone in the eye. He stays quiet and avoids the spotlight. Brilliant little fucker, but his balls never dropped. He got teased a lot, so he created a friend to protect him — Otis.

Yeah, that’s Otis in my avatar. He’s a demon. Mean as a fucking cobra and will pounce on a muhphucka and rip out his neck before the fool could even see him coming (metaphorically of course). See, Otis doesn’t resort to violence. He would prefer to make those who challenge lil’ Lee feel emotionally broken. He can shatter your self-esteem in 140 characters or less and then cock a leg up to piss in ya face for good measure.

And then there was Fleet. Those of you Black enough to have seen the Wiz know that Fleetwood Coupe de Ville was the proper name of the Cowardly Lion.

Fleet reinforced all the fears that Lee had. He kept Otis at bay, though. He made Lee so afraid to unleash Otis, that Otis’s anger was often directed right back at Lee.

As Lee, Otis and Fleet grew, there was the need to strike a balance between them. One lives in the shadows of everyone else. Another prevented anyone from getting too close. As a young man trying his hand at surviving NYC, Pearlie Mae stepped in to try to hold the group together.

Sis Pearlie Mae is based on one of the strongest Black women to ever walked this here planet, Pearl Bailey. She conquered the stage and screen and had cross-over appeal unlike many before or since. In the new world of LiWu the PK, Sis Pearlie Mae is in charge. She’s running this hurr show.

Sis Pearlie Mae did something pretty fuckin’ important recently. She held Fleet’s head in her hands, much like “Dorothy” does in that picture up a couple paragraphs ago. She told him it was time to lay down and rest. That LiWu and the crew appreciated all that he has done to keep us all out of jail for verbal assualt, pissin’ in neighbors’ car vents (that story is a CLASSIC), and having us change our mind about using CitiBike riders in NYC as target practice for my Bimmer. Then she slapped the FUCK out that lion and knocked his azz into a coma. Lee panicked and snuggled up next to Fleet and refused to let go. “So be it”, Pearlie Mae said. She looked at Otis and then back at Lee and Fleet.

“Boys, me and Otis got this. Y’all sleep tight now, ya hurr?”

She and Otis turned and walked away and closed the door behind them.

And here we are folks. Hold on — it’s going to be a wild ride.