#oOoOooh have my white babies or else all the other races will take over and kill us 🥺🥺

[toddstool]

so many white males need to be taken out back and shot they're so annoying and whiny and demanding

[maylovexhs]

GUILTY(H.S) - Chapter 11

Author’s Note: Long time no post. Anyways, its a special chapter. Enjoy loves! xxx M

Guilty Masterlist

Masterlist

January 21, 2017

“Mel, the doctor said you should be on bed rest” Dex said behind me as I walked around the apartment.

“She also said to walk around so I can dilate faster” I argued.

“We don’t want you to bleed again” Dex added.

“A little bit of blood in my discharge is okay at this time. I only bled that much because we didn’t have sex in a while” I defended.

“Your contractions are more intense. It’s better to have one laying down” Dex said.

I turned around to him.

“Dex, I told you that I feel alright. “Walking around eases my abdominal pain” I explained.

“Not when the doctor tells you to” Dex said, looking like he was done with my stubbornness. 

I walked to the couch and sat on it.

“Happy?” I asked, faking a smile at him.

“Yes” Dex said, taking a seat to the right of me.

I looked to the clock. 10:46 AM.

“Ten minutes” I stated.

“Till another contraction?” Dex asked.

“Yup” I answered. “When did I have the last one?”

“About twenty minutes ago. You sure you don’t want to go to the hospital yet?” Dex asked me again.

“As long it’s not every seven minutes” I said.

“I’m taking you at fifteen” Dex stated.

“Dex, the book says th-“

I felt my lower region of my abdominal tighten. I leaned back on the couch bringing my knees up to my chest. I wrapped my arms around my knees, trying to clench away the pain. Dex moves closer to me. I felt his hand circle up and down my back.

“In and out” Dex stated. “Breathe”

I tried to maintain a steady breath by myself. It was no help. I couldn’t manage to count with this pain. Dex

“In” Dex said.

I inhaled.

“Out” He said.

I exhaled. I followed what he said for the next couple of minutes as my contraction lessen. Once some of the pain went away I set my legs down.

“About twenty minutes” Dex stated. “You’re still sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?”

The contractions keep on getting shorter and worse. I didn’t really have anymore options left unless I wanted to give birth at home.

I sighed. I rested my forehead on my hand. I looked away from Dex.

“Get the baby bag” I said.

5:48 PM

“I FUCKING HATE YOU” I cried out, screaming at Dex as I felt another contraction race through my body. “WHY THE HELL DIDN’T YOU PULL OUT?”

“Sorry, Mel” Dex said rubbing my back again. “I’ll try not to next time”

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” I yelled moving away from him.

“Sorry I’m late!” I heard my mother say as she walked into the room. “They didn’t give you epidural yet?” She asked.

“We’re waiting till she’s five minutes in. She’s seven so far” Dex explained.

“How much is she dilated?” My mother asked.

“SEVEN!” I screamed out, leaning forward.

“Good news is that her water broke” Dex stated.

“SHUT UP!” I shouted at them. “BEING IN PAIN ISN’T WONDERFUL”

“I’ll get the doctor” Dex said, getting up from the chair and walking out of the hospital room.

My mother sat down where Dex sat.

“You really could have picked a more supportive man” My mom complained. “You two aren’t married yet”

“Like you?” I asked her. “Where have you been for the past six months?”

“I didn’t come to fight with you and I’m trying to fix that” She responded.

“What do we have here?” We heard Dr. Lane say.

She walked into the hospital room with Dex and a nurse behind her.

“I’m dying” I said.

“It does feel like that, doesn’t it?” Dr. Lane asked me. “Lean back. Let’s see if you dilated more”

I slowly leaned back, laying my head on the white pillows. I separated my legs for Dr. Lane to check my dilation.

“Eight!” She said. “I think this is a good time for an epidural”

“Please” Dex and I said at the same time.

“Natasha, can you give her the epidural?” Dr. Lane asked, looking to the nurse who I presumed was Natasha.

“Yeah” Natasha said in a Russian accent.

Dr. Lane and Natasha walked out of the hospital room. Natasha came back with a tray in one hand. Her other hand was holding a plastic bag that looked like epidural in it.

“It will sting a little” She warned.

“Whatever to take the pain away” I said.

Natasha came to my side. She slipped the epidural bag onto my IV fluids rack. I looked away from her. I moved my hair in front of my shoulders.

“Sit up. Arch your back” Natasha ordered.

I did so, following her instructions. I felt a pinch in my lower back.

“It’s in” Natasha said. “If you want to lay down, lay on your side”

“Thanks” I said, still feeling pain.

“Takes up to half an hour to kick in” Natasha said. “Do you need anything else?”

“For the baby to come out”

8:14 PM

“Nine and a half!” Dr. Lane said checking my dilation as I managed still to lay on my side. “Do you feel an urge to push?”

“Not much. Is it normal to feel it with an epidural?” I asked her.

“Absolutely. In fact, most women don’t have feel pressure with the epidural” Dr. Lane answered.

“How will I know when to push?” I asked, feeling almost numb.

“Based on how you’re feeling now, you will probably feel your baby’s head go down” She said. “Speaking of that, it’s very close to happening”

Dr. Lane looked to Dex.

“It’s a good time to change into scrubs” Dr. Lane suggested to Dex.

Dr. Lane looked to my mom.

“Does mother want to change too?” She asked.

“I’ll just hold her hand” My mom answered.

“Wait!” I said. “I’m actually giving birth? Like now?”

I started to panic. I read in the books that you feel nothing with epidural but they tell you nothing about the anxiety you feel and how scary the situation feels like. I felt powerless. I had no control. I wanted to escape, escape from my body.

“Most women decide to give birth when they are at ten centimeters. Amelia, I can assure you that you are in good hands” Dr. Lane promised.

“Hey” Dex said taking my hand and holding it. “You can do this, Mel”

“No, I can’t” I said, feeling sweat fall trail down the side of my face. “I’m weak. Somethings going to go wrong. I just feel it”

Dex looked into my eyes.

“Yes, you can. He said. “Mel, you’re the strongest person I know. You have no idea how strong and powerful you are to me. I believe in you”

“You do?” I asked a bit shaky.

“I always have. What matters is that we are having a baby. Everything else is the hospitals job. You can do this, Amelia”

I can do this. I can do this.

“Okay . . .” I said. “Let’s do this”

9:24 PM

“We need a very big push” Dr. Lane said.

Time had no measure. Neither did pain. All I know was that I felt like I was dying.

I held onto my mother’s and Dex’s hands as tight as possible, pushing with all of the strength I had. I let out a whimper as I pushed. I heard the sound of a baby crying. My baby. Dex let go of my hand, going to see her.

“Good” My mother encouraged me.

“I can grab her out, if you want” Dr. Lane asked.

“Do it” I muttered.

I felt less pressure in my lower body as Dr. Lane grabbed her slowly out.

“And here she is!” Dr. Lane said, holding her up to show me. “Baby girl Ulrich”

Dex came back to my side, kissing my head.

“I love you” Dex said.

Dex walked back to Dr. Lane watching over the baby.

“Is she okay?” I asked feeling dead.

I licked my lips.

“They’re cleaning here. It’s okay, honey” My Mom said letting go of my hand.

“Skin to skin” One of the midwifes said.

I saw a nurse carry her across the room to room. She placed my baby on my chest. I looked down to her.

She was beautiful. Everything I could have dreamt of. Everything I never dreamt of. I couldn’t believe she was here. Actually here, and not inside of me. I felt myself tear up. They were happy tears. The most happiest tears I had in my whole life.

“You did it” I heard Dex say.

I looked up and saw a tearful Dex. “We did it” Dex said. “We . .”

Author’s Note: Ooooooh Baby, baby. I wonder if Harry is going to be the godfather. Requests are always open

[tatlergazette-blog]

The Day Joker Saved Me From A Jersey City Pimp 

By Eiko La Boria 

For River Phoenix 

Based on a True Story 

 PROLOGUE

JERSEY CITY:  Much has been said about the contagious rage of the Joker, especially it’s potential of inspiring white males that have been bullied or are societal outcasts. Their good nature bludgeoned and discarded. But in Jersey City, white males should be the least of our worries, because rage has no color or sex or social class. Righteous rage can seep into the psyche of anyone that has been taken advantage of, oppressed, tormented, used and abused, treated like garbage or in my case, the attempt to be pimped. The concise effort of a wanna-be hustler to exploit me, have me work for weeks, only to try and keep my money and refuse to pay me, turn-me-out so to speak in the ways of this unapologetic boy’s town. Like Gotham, Jersey City has her share of villains, but in Jersey City they hide and are protected by the cloak of being city employees, community activists, pastors, influence peddlers, and do-gooders who really care about the poor, destitute, minorities, women, the middle class. Insert Joker’s laughter here.  Jersey City, like Gotham, is a place where what you see is hardly ever what you get.  Every story has endless angles. The wolves do not bother with sheep’s clothing. Greed is God! When you’re hurting the greater good more than you are producing it--that’s a problem--a big one. These are dangerous times in Jersey City. 

                                               ACT I 

The night before Joker arrived an ominous cloud hovered over New York City, creeping its way across the river and toward Jersey City. I was mesmerized by it’s forewarning. 

Jersey City had been preparing for months for Joker’s arrival. I was a part of the preparation. In August 2018, a contractor that I knew for his unique political aspirations, which were supposedly to help Hispanics, let’s call him Emilio, asked for my help in preparing a proposal for a project at the Loew’s Jersey Theatre in Journal Square. He told me that he was a subcontractor and that the electrical contractor, the main contractor, in charge of the project told him that it was a big project that was good for him, but that he needed to submit a proposal.  Emilio didn’t know how to write a proposal and needed help. English is his second language and he was not proficient in writing in English. He said that he could not pay me for writing the proposal. I was OK with that. I had no intention of charging him for writing the proposal anyway. Without a second thought I agreed to it. I thought this would be good for him, would help him grow his business and I said, “Why not?” I had also worked for a maintenance company for the past year and I knew how to write specifically for government, private and municipal proposals and bids. 

“This is a big project, it has a big budget, something like $ 40,000.00 and it can really help me out.”  he said. 

I met with Emilio, asked what he wanted the proposal to reflect and I wrote it up. The job required painting, replicating a steel awning, cleaning electrical sockets, pedestrian safety, removing, cleaning, shining and reinstalling the side panels of a marquee. I wrote it up. He got the job. He then said to me, 

“You know I don’t have any good people that I can rely on. I need help making sure the job moves ahead. I’d like you to work for me on site because I can not be there everyday and communicate with me, tell me what’s happening. I have to do other jobs. Can you help me?”

“Yes, I can help you.” I replied. 

“But I can only pay you $ 15.00 dollar an hour because of the budget and I need a lot of people there. It’s a big, big job.” he said. 

I didn't care about the hourly wage, he needed help and I wanted to help him. Besides money comes and goes, but experience and memories are forever.

“Is that the prevailing wage?” I asked. “There is a lot of specialized work in the proposal. It doesn’t matter to me, but make sure you know what the prevailing wage is, you may not be able to find professionals.” 

I looked up the prevailing wage for such a job and emailed it to him. It was $ 25.00 an hour, $ 10.00 less than he was offering. He advised that the electrical contractor told him to just pay everybody $ 15.00 dollars an hour, no matter what they did and that was what he was going to do. 

“But just so you know, I’m paying everybody at the end of the job, because that’s when the electrical contractor will pay me.” Emilio said.

“That’s fine, but you have to pay me in full.” I replied. 

“Yes, of course, I pay you everything. But you have to be there every day and tell me what is going on.” he replied. 

He accepted the job and hired me. I was there when he did the initial walk through of the Loew’s. I took notes for him, took pictures, and worked with the Loew’s Management to assure that everything they asked of us was done, especially the materials that were to be used. The protector of the Loew’s, let’s call him Harlin, was meticulous and finicky with his baby, he knew exactly what needed to be done, how it was to be done, and when . It was paramount to Harlin that everything he wanted done, be done to a T. It was during the initial walk through that I learned that this was all in preparation for the Warner Bros. film, Joker. 

In its heyday the Loew’s would have been Joker’s natural favorite hangout, it was one of the original wonder palaces erected in 1929. It was a center of entertainment and distractions, movies were just a part of the fun. It was a vaudeville paradise where residents would spend an entire Saturday or Sunday, hours of pleasure and spectacle, an extravaganza that captured the imagination of the young and old alike. 

“Joker! You’re kidding me!” I said. 

“It’s a Warner Bros. film with Joaquin Phoenix” he said. 

And when I heard the name Phoenix, bells went off in my head, I got weak in the knees, my heart raced, my eyes watered, the melody of chirping birds filled the air, a melancholy smile swept my face. My eyes enamored with thoughts of my first crush. Oh baby, like an unforgettable lover he still had an effect on me, he still had a hold. I went back in time, I was a teenager in my bedroom. Poster plastered walls. Joaquin is an exceptional actor, but his brother River was it for me. Growing up in an urban city, not many people understood my fascination with River but I couldn’t care less about their understanding. It was River!

In my basement, there is still a poster or two or three of River Phoenix. He’s one of my favorite actors of all time. When he died of a drug overdose on a dirty Hollywood sidewalk with Joaquin by his side, I wept for days. His death hurt me so much. It became a call of duty for me to do an exceptional job at the Loew’s. This was for River Phoenix’s baby brother whose middle name, Rafael, is my father’s name, and who was born in San Juan, Puerto Rico just like me. It mattered not that he would never know my name. Everything had to be perfect for Joaquin. 

On the first day, the job was shut down because the proper permits were not obtained. The crew consisted of me, Emilio’s uncle, and a high schooler. It was a no-go until the proper permits were submitted and approved. Although permits for the average Jersey City resident takes weeks if not months, all the necessary permits for this job were obtained in a few days. We went back to the Loew’s, Emilio, myself and Emilio’s uncle. The high schooler didn’t make it back, he got a higher paying job. 

“ It’s OK, we can do everything that needs to be done. We don’t need anyone else. We’re going to make a lot of money.” Emilio said. 

As Emilio said that, an uproarious deafening laugh spilled out of a car waiting at the red light. A big hearty cackle, the laughter just came coming and coming. The crazy laugh instantly made me think of the Joker.  It was eerie,

“Ooooooh oooooh ooooooh, aaaaaahhh aaaaaahhh aaaaahhhh, heeeee, heeeee, heeeee” 

 I could still hear it as the car raced past the green light and down Bergen Avenue. 

For the first two weeks, we worked on procuring the materials, removing the side panels of the Loew’s marquee and scraping the old peeling paint, assuring pedestrian safety as there were several teams working on the marquee, traveled to New York City for steel and cleaning hundreds of electrical sockets. The first two weeks was all the prep work and the days were long. Emilio hired another worker, named Dwayne, but after a few days, Dwayne told me, “This job is not paying right he’s paying us way below what we should be getting.” And just like the high schooler, Dwayne left for a higher paying job. I couldn’t leave. This was more than a job, it was an opportunity to do something for the brother of someone I adored. 

And then there were the influx of memories from the people strolling by, an elderly couple came up to me,

“Are you fixing the theatre, that’s so wonderful, I love this place.” said the elderly woman. 

“We are restoring the marquee for a movie.” I respond. 

“We met here about sixty years ago, we were both teenagers. It was love at first sight. We’ve been together ever since.” says the elderly man. “I wish you well with the job.”

“We’ll try our best, we want this to look just like it was built yesterday. We are hopeful that it will, we are working very hard.” I say. 

“Something tells me that your best is quite good. You have an aura, an energy, you will do great things here.” says the elderly woman. 

Just then, I noticed a butterfly landing on a traffic cone next to me. For me it was a sign, a sign that I was working toward something good, something that will be remembered for a long time. It was hope personified. A masterpiece in waiting. I was giving rebirth to a thing of beauty.  I took a picture. I took two. 

The couple kissed and smiled shyly at me, before continuing walking down Kennedy Blvd. I stared at them, until I could see them no more. 

About half an hour later, a loud and shiney Harley Davidson pulls up in front of the Journal Square Pub, next to the Loew’s.  A  tall and stocky biker, clad in head to toe leather with a bushy beard hops off. He’s hard to miss and the leather seemed to he speaking with his every step. He strolled over to me. Let’s call him Johnny. 

“Holy shit! What are you guys doing here, Oh man, you just blew my mind when I saw you guys working on the marquee. I use to hang out here in the 70’s man. I love this place” says Johnny.

“We’re restoring it, a lot of people are excited.” 

“I can’t tell you how many good times I had here. I mean I would just come and hang out for the entire day. I made so many friends here. Damn, have you been inside?”

“Yes, it’s grand.” 

“It's a fairy tale, you know what I mean. I can’t wait to see the marquee finished, it brings back so many great memories. Man, I gotta get a drink now, my fucking brains just blew out my head, you know what I mean. God bless.” 

And just like that he walked away and into the pub. I still smile when I see him in my mind’s eye. 

I quickly learned that not everyone was a fan of the Loew’s, the restoration, the fight for the theatre to remain alive. I was moving the railings to make a safe passage way for pedestrians as Emilio’s uncle was working on a lift. I see a thin white woman approaching me with a smile on her face. Let’s call her Beth. I smiled back, as I was sure that she was going to share with me some of her memories...I was getting used to strangers connecting with me because of my work on the theatre. 

She comes up to me and says, “Instead of fixing this marquee, why aren’t you getting rid of the homeless people that sleep everyday in front of this shithole. That’s what you should be fixing. I’m a taxpayer, I’ve been in Jersey City for five years and I’ve been walking past this dirty theatre and all the homeless for five years. You’re taking my money so that I can walk past the smell of piss every night.” Beth said. 

“I’m sorry ma’am, the homeless is not what I am fixing.” 

“Well, you should be. I am a taxpayer and this theatre is taking my money so that homeless people can just sleep in front of it. How is that right? How is me walking past homeless bums and smelling their shit right?” 

I just stare at her...I can’t find the words, I can actually, but if I say what I really want to say, things may escalate and at that moment I didn’t think that it was my place. 

“Well, I can certainly convey your message to the Loew’s Management.” 

“They should just close this disgusting place and put up a nice building, with some beautiful storefronts, that’s what the people around here really want. Why should I be speaking with you? You’re just a worker, I’m wasting my time.” she says. 

“Well, Ma’am, the homeless are people too, we just can’t get rid of them.” 

Then she breaks out in a boisterous laughter, she bends over, and continued her wild cackle. Pedestrians looked at her as they walked past. 

“Homeless are people too,” she says, mocking me, as she continues laughing uncontrollably. 

“Aha haaaa haaaa haaaa haaaaa haaaaa haaaa haaaaa ha…”

The laughter was loud and familiar. She turns around and continues her laughter as walks toward a shiny new building past the Loew’s. 

I continued working blissfully, with intent, everything that was asked of me I did. And I did so happily. I didn’t take another job while I was there. My complete focus was on making this marquee brand new. They could have asked me to remove every piece of gum from the sidewalk with a toothpick and I would have done it. I was on a mission. I was a soldier. 

At the end of the first two weeks, as we were  removing the safety railings from Kennedy Blvd and moving them to the basement, Emilio’s Uncle says:

“I’m glad it’s finally payday, it’s been a long two weeks.” 

“Are you getting paid today?” 

“Of course, it’s been two weeks.” 

Just then, Emilio arrived and his uncle shouts out to him, 

“You have my money?” 

Emilio’s eyes widened as he noticed my stare. To his chagrin, his uncle let the cat out of the bag. Emilio was going to pay his uncle, but not me. 

“Yeah! Yeah!, I have your money. Eiko, I forgot to tell you that I got some money from the electrical contractor and can pay you too. You don’t have to wait till the end of the job.”  Emilio said. 

I could’ve taken the money and run, but I didn’t.

Just then a group of teenagers from nearby Dickinson High School walked past and broke out into a group laughter. They couldn’t contain themselves. They were hugging each other, barely able to stand up from the laughter. 

“Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh hhhhaaaaaaa ooooooooohhhhhh heeeeeee” 

The laughter. The laughter was my friend. The laughter was warning me. 

                                       To be continued...

All pictures are property of Eiko La Boria -- Thank you for reading!