makemoneyfromhometips.com Blog

Co-Defendant To Snitch On Michael Vick

I had an interesting conversation with a relative yesterday concerning black celebrity in America. Feel free to comment on this post, I’d love to know your thoughts.

Michael Vick started the debate between us. My cousin’s point was that why are people so upset by this? Dog fighting is done by whites all the time, some who have deeper financial pockets than Mike Vick. His position: Vick is being made a scapegoat.

Well, me being older and hopefully wiser, had a different perspective.

Michael Vick, as a professional athlete has a duty to do the right things as best to his ability. Why? Because he is a representative and spokesman for several successful corporations who pay him well, Nike, Reebok and the NFL.

My cousin’s argument, Nike has sweatshops in Asia, they certainly aren’t doing the right thing employing people to make expensive sportswear while paying them pennies per day.

No. Nike is not doing the right thing on this issue. However, Nike has deeper pockets, they make people forget they are a terrible corporate citizen because they hire sports icons like Mike Vick, Michael Jordan, Tiger Woods, et al to do their bidding and ‘goodwill.’

You see, it’s about Michael Vick respecting his place in society. He and all black celebrities must come to terms with the fact that they are not running anything. They are merely employees for major corporations who control their lifestyles.

There are very few black celebrities (Oprah Winfrey is one) who has true financial freedom and can determine their own destinies without depending on some corporate steamship to tell them it’s time to set sail. Again, my motto is biblical, to whom much is given, much is expected.

Michael Vick has been given a lot; and he has shown he is irresponsible and can not handle the duties of a professional celebrity. Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan are irresponsible as well, but they will be forgiven sooner than Michael Vick. They will not lose their ability to make millions, Michael Vick will. He is a black man in America, and he must understand, you can not bring the ‘hood’ into corporate America without including corporate America.

You see, Mike Vick’s sin is he didn’t include the NFL, Nike and Reebok in the profits. If he had of, maybe he wouldn’t have gotten indicted, and wouldn’t be facing the fact that one of his co-defendants is copping a plea tomorrow.

View blog authority

Excerpt From ‘Murder In My Backyard’

Here is an excerpt of my new short story…Murder In My Backyard…

If you want to read the entire story, it is available for purchase for 2.95 USD. Payments accepted by PayPal, egold and epassporte.

Reply to this email if you are interested in purchasing. As always, your responses are welcome.

Enjoy!
***************************************************

MURDER IN MY BACKYARD
By LaTease
©2007 LMR Publishing

“Emergency Center, where is the problem?”
“I smell something dead in here. Like a dead body or something.”
“How do you know it’s a dead body?”
“You know what, when you smell a dead body once, you know it’s a dead body. Now are you gonna send somebody to check it out or what?”

It was a horrendous odor. On a ninety degree day it was down right putrid. Somebody had killed someone, I knew it. It wasn’t an animal, it wasn’t spoiled meat, it was a human body. One that had been dead for days and the heat had caught up with the decomp. Now that I had called the police, I wasn’t worried about the body anymore; I was concerned about who put it there.

The police arrived acting nonchalant. They had heard it all before, citizen calls in a complaint, basically, ‘meet a woman to investigate strange odor.’ Yep the cops are real excited about that. The dispatcher sent an old dog and a rookie looking to make a name for himself. They looked at me like I was a mental ward escapee.

“You the one who called about the dead body smell?”
The young one looked at me with one hand on his service revolver, the other one at his side. It was obvious I was the number one suspect according to him.

“Yeah. Don’t you smell it?”

They stopped for a minute as if to siphon through the scents in the hot city air. Recognition hit their faces simultaneously as faces of disbelief turned into curious eyes. It was evident their minds had connected with the smell as they clearly identified it and categorized the undeniable odor. I just wondered what took them so long to smell it.

“Where were you when you first smelled it mam?”

Ahh, now respect. Now I was a mam.

“I was getting out of my car with my groceries. That’s my red car Honda right there.”

The dumpster was a few feet away from my car. I hated parking so close to it. Rats as big as cats often hung out around there getting their meals on and terrorizing unsuspecting and squeamish humans like myself. The officers had guns. Big ones. I don’t know what size they were, but if a bullet came out of them and found one of my body parts, tremendous damage would be done.

The senior cop hung back and aimed his pistol at the dumpster. I don’t know why, it was obvious something was dead in there and clearly unable to defend itself.

The rookie had been relegated to the task of opening Pandora’s Box. He looked in and covered his mouth to hold the vomit that forced its way up his throat and onto his crisp dark uniform. Something or someone had met a cruel end, and the rookie had just graduated from first grade.

All at once my hot, muggy, quiet when it wanted to be block had turned into a celebrity of sorts. News vans with huge antennas communicating with the sky were broadcasting live and in color. I tried to remain anonymous, but the rookie who couldn’t hold his lunch, couldn’t keep his mouth shut either. He pointed me out to a newspaper reporter. I had been made.

Inside the dumpster were various body parts. They belonged to a woman. The one who butchered her didn’t even bother to bag up her arms nor legs. Leaving them exposed for whatever happens after you dismember a human body.

The rats would be angry with me; I took away a sure feast. I watched as the crime scene people and the ME’s put each piece of her into thick, yellow plastic bags. I was numb. I was also scared. There was an eerie feeling that whoever did this was close by, watching. I wonder if they knew I had called the police, disrupting a plan obviously constructed with care. I had thought only to call the police because I hated odors. Now, I needed to plan my next step, and it didn’t involve staying in my apartment alone.

**************************************************

That’s it for now…reply to this message for more.

LaTease

View blog authority