Celebrity Sightings: Farrah Fawcett – 1947 to 2009 – Life Uncovered – Part 5

Finally Out Of Jail

In 2016, the distraught son Redmond O’Nea was released from prison. After he had been jailed in 2015 for violating probation regarding previous drug possession convictions, it was rather unexpected when he was spotted out to dinner with his father, since he was initially given a three-year sentence. Redmond reportedly promised Farrah he would stay clean, but in 2011 he was found in possession of illegal substances and a firearm. He was imprisoned during Farrah’s last days, but he managed to visit her one last time before her death.

Cheating On Every Man’s Fantasy

In 1997, the couple knew one of the hardest years of their lives due to O’Neal’s notorious inability to stay faithful. Apparently, the same woman featured on every teenage boy’s wall in the 70’s caught her long-time lover doing the dirty deed in his Malibu pad. O’Neal was forced to recount his infidelity during a testimony he gave in a lawsuit pressed by the University of Texas years later, in which he confessed to messing around in the sheets with Leslie Ann Stefanson, star of The General’s Daughter.

A Valentine’s To Remember

Fawcett decided to surprise O’Neal for Valentine’s Day the day she discovered the truth. O’Neal described the horrible moment in detail: “It was terrible, I didn’t expect to see her down there. I tried to put my pants on, but I put both legs in one hole. Leslie dived under the covers.” O’Neal hoped Farrah didn’t realize what was happening, but in vain. “I thought Farrah was going to attack her, but she said, ‘What’s your name?’ Leslie said, ‘Leslie.’ And Farrah walked out.”

Special Guest At Farrah’s Funeral

A private funeral was held for Farrah in Los Angeles on June 30, 2009, and there was a very special guest in attendance, her son. Fawcett’s son Redmond was in jail at the time of her funeral, but he was thankfully given the permission to leave his California detention center to attend the funeral, where he gave the first reading. While being released, Redmond was photographed in his blue jumpsuit. Fawcett was buried at the Westwood Village Memorial Park in Los Angeles.

Not A Vain Bone In Her Body

One time, O’Neal asked Fawcett about her chosen and very distinct hair style: “I said, ‘Why do you wear your hair like that?’ and she said, ‘I can’t see to the right or left, and that way I don’t have to see people looking at me.’” Farrah was also not one to spend hours on grooming rituals. In fact, she once said: “I’m always more comfortable when I have on hardly any make-up, my hair is brown and I’m very unattractive.”

The Secret Affair

According to court papers, Fawcett had a secret affair with her university sweetheart during her final years behind Ryan O’Neal’s back. He claimed in a deposition that they rekindled their relationship in 1998 and were a couple for 11 years until Farrah died from cancer several years ago while she was 62 years old. The undercover love triangle was revealed in a bitter legal battle over the ownership of a $26 million Andy Warhol portrait of the former Charlie’s Angels actress and model.

Fawcett’s Football Flirt

Greg Lott, 67, a former football star, first dated Fawcett when they were both at the University of Texas. Lott, now a car dealer in Texas, claimed O’Neal prevented him from seeing Fawcett in her last days. “He kept me from seeing the love of my life before she died,” he said. “Photos don’t make a relationship. I know what I had with her. He didn’t have that. He blew it.” O’Neal and Lott were photographed arguing in the street several months after her death.

A Whole Lott Of Money

Fawcett left all her artworks to her old university but when the collection was handed over it was discovered that one of the valuable portraits was hanging in O’Neal’s bedroom. O’Neal claims that before she died, Fawcett gave him the Warhol painting to pass on to their son. Fawcett didn’t include O’Neal in her living trust but left $80,000 to Lott, who testified that it was the actress’s wish to bequeath all of her artwork to her alma mater, including the Warhol portrait.

Lott’s Love Letters

In court, Lott claimed to have years of handwritten notes between him and Fawcett. In one letter dated, Dec. 8, 2008, written from her hospital bed in Germany, Fawcett wrote, “I miss you so much, and sometimes the loneliness makes me cry. But this is a daunting journey one must take oneself, and there is very little anyone else can do to help. I wonder if at the moment of surgery I can do it, so I pray for strength and courage and it comes.”

Close Call

Fawcett and O’Neal fought often and loudly, and these arguments took a toll on their son, Redmond. The six-year-old once threatened to hurt himself to stop his parents from fighting. O’Neal recounted a particularly heart-stopping example that occurred during an argument in their bedroom. Redmond was standing in the doorway in his Winnie-the-Pooh pajamas, holding a butcher’s knife and said, “I’m going to stab myself if you don’t stop it!” That ended the argument.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish everyday at 8am & 12pm EST.

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Dating and Relationship Advice – If You Possess 4 of These Traits, You Are One Of The Rarest People On Earth

According to Carl Jung, the personalities of people are represented by general attitude: sensitive – intuitive, extroverted – introverted, judging – perceiving, and thinking – feeling.

So, when you get out the 4 initial letters INFJ from these personalities, you get the rarest type which is Introverted, Intuitive, Feeling, and Judging. When you look at a classroom, you can see only one or two students who are quiet and observing of what is going on around.

This is the rarest type. They are not shy, but introverted. But, being quiet is not the only characteristic of this personality.

Below you can read 10 traits of the unique INFJ personality, and see if you belong to this group.

1. The Focus is on Important Things

These people always concentrate on important things and deal with challenges in a confident and easy way. And, when the things do not go as planned, they find new ways to achieve their goals.

2. Hard Workers

Many people from the other personality types are lazy, but the INFJ’s are real hard-workers. They always try to do their best in order to make their dreams come true because nothing comes easy in life.

3. Believing in Their Gut

You have probably noticed that “N” in INFJ stands of intuition. So, these people possess a strong intuition. And, when they sense something bad is happening, they immediately start doing something about it. Also, they can always feel if something is going to happen in their life.

4. Only Few Chosen Friends

These people choose their close friends carefully. They are often alone because they enjoy their solitude, and do not enjoy hanging in large social groups.

5. Empaths

They are all about feelings. Whenever someone needs help, they will be there to give them a hand. Also, they are able to put themselves in someone else’s shoes and understand their feelings. And, feeling what others feel is the reason why they often need some alone time to recharge their batteries.

6. Read Other People Easily

Being an empath means having the ability to read people’s minds through their emotions. They are very good at noticing when someone is lying. This characteristic helps them stay safe when they are around people with bad intentions.

7. Visionaries

While being alone, these people let their mind wander. As a result, they get a lot of new and creative ideas that can share with their friends.

8. Inspiring

Since these people are visionaries, idealists, and creative, they are able to inspire everyone around them, especially their close friends.

9. Love Towards Writing

Expressing their thoughts and creativity is these people’s way of life. But, since as we mentioned, they prefer being alone, they choose writing as a way of expression. So, when they write down what they think and feel, they feel much more peaceful and calmer. (Me)

10. Great at Solving Problems

INFJ’s are natural when it comes to solving problems because they always see the bigger picture. So, this ability helps them to notice which things are not right and find a way to fix them.

Finally, readers, if you possess at least 4 of the above-mentioned traits, you belong to the group that has the unique and rare personality type.

 

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Wildwood Daze – Summer of 1977 – El Morro Motel

It had been the worst year of my young life. I was 14 going on 15 years old. But Junior High at Fels was finally over and I was at the shore for the summer in Wildwood. I was basically what my father called a Prisoner of Love. That meant limited time out. You don’t get rewarded with a bunch of fun and free time after having such a shitty school year. I think if some of the bullying laws were in place back then like they are now maybe I wouldn’t have had such a horrible time in school.

When a child is being abused at school and at home you just can’t concentrate in school. I was a smart kid, but I hated my life and didn’t want to apply myself like my more compliant and solid sister Janice.

My father was going to keep me busy all summer doing chores around the house. First of which was to scrub all of the rust off of all of the bicycles. The salt air oxidizes all things metal at the shore. It was going to be a horrible arduous task.

I was walking down 10th street one day with my friend Dominic. We were probably coming from our favorite arcade, Botto’s. We were nearly to the corner of 10th and Ocean ave. It was a warm day in June. That corner property was the El Morro Motel. It was a cute classic seashore motel. (That’s the best pic I could find of it, but that’s the genuine article)

On the door to the office was a Help Wanted sign for a poolboy. I went in and applied. I had never had a job before and didn’t even know how to go about it. But I went in and spoke to the owner. He told me to fill out a little application, and come back with signed working papers. I think you need that if you’re under the age of 18. (Maybe 16?)

My skin was clearing up in the summer sun and sea. My top braces had been taken off, and I didn’t need to wear my glasses all of the time. So I was emerging from puberty as an okay looking boy. I felt a little more human.

I go home and tell my parents. My mom said we’d go to the local city hall and get the necessary forms. But when my father found out he was overjoyed. That’s all it took. This was the beginning of my teenage years getting better. No more prison time, I was treated better, and especially no rust scrubbing job for me. This was actually the turning point for me as a young man.

I got the job and started that Monday morning at 7am.  I made $40 a week. But for a 14-year-old kid in 1977, that was serious money. I was living on $5 a week allowance from my mom and doing fine. Comic books were 20 cents back then so for a buck you could get five! A slice of pizza was fifty cents and a soda was a quarter. Pinball was twenty-five cents for three games. So five bucks went a long way back then. The rest of the time we were on the beach playing. That was summer back then.

I go in and the owner is there to show me how to do the job. I thought I’d be skimming the pool and what not, I had no idea what a job was but I actually had a somewhat complex job description. Pool Boy sounds like a nothing job but here is what I did all morning at the El Morro Motel.

Bring out all of the cushions for the lounge chairs around the pool. Empty and clean all of the ashtrays between each one. Sweep around the pool area. Mix the cleaning agent in a bucket and scrub all of the tiles around the entire pool above the water’s surface. Skim the bugs and detritus off the surface of the water. Hook up the aqua vacuum and clean the bottom and walls of the pool under the water. Check the PH balance of the water in the pool and add chlorine as necessary. Clean the baby pool the same way you clean the big pool. Sweep up around the hotel in front of the rooms. Vacuum the Astroturf on the second floor outside the rooms. Empty and clean all of the ashtrays in front of every motel room. Sweep the walkways, and pick up any trash around the parking lot. Then come back at night around 7pm and bring in all of the cushions from the lounge chairs around the pool. Take out the trash cans every week. So basically Pool Boy means entire motel maintenance crew!

Around 11am I would finish and punch out. This was my favorite time of the day. I would smoke a cigarette. (Fuckin’ punk I was) Then I would go back home two blocks away. Best part was, my mom would still be at the beach with the girls. Janice would be working over at Russo’s Market, so she wouldn’t be home, and like I said, my mom wouldn’t be back to the house with little April and Gabrielle until noon. So there was only one thing to do.

Put the album Aerosmith “Rocks” on my dad’s stereo and crank that shit up and play air guitar and pretend I was in a rock band and chicks were screaming my name. It was glorious. Girls hated me in junior high because I basically looked and acted like a leper, but a boy can dream for a half hour alone in his house.

So things were looking up for me. As long as I got up every morning and went to work and behaved myself, I was in the black with my parents.

Life was good. But it was about to become wonderful…

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am & 12pm EST.
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Tales of Rock – America

America is a rock band, formed in England in 1970 by multi-instrumentalists Dewey Bunnell, Dan Peek, and Gerry Beckley. The trio first met as sons of U.S. Air Force personnel stationed in London, where they began performing live.

America achieved significant popularity in the 1970s and was famous for the trio’s close vocal harmonies and light acoustic folk rock sound. This popularity was confirmed by a string of hit albums and singles, many of which found airplay on pop/soft rock stations.

The band came together shortly after the members’ graduation from high school, and a record deal with Warner Bros. Records followed. Their debut 1971 self-titled album America, produced the transatlantic hits “A Horse with No Name” and “I Need You“; Homecoming (1972) produced the single “Ventura Highway“; and Hat Trick (1973), a modest success on the charts which fared poorly in sales, produced one minor hit song “Muskrat Love“. 1974’s Holiday featured the hits “Tin Man” and “Lonely People“; and 1975’s Hearts generated the number one single “Sister Golden Hair” alongside “Daisy Jane“. History: America’s Greatest Hits, a compilation of hit singles, was released the same year and was certified multi-platinum in the United States and Australia. Peek left the group in 1977, and their commercial fortunes declined, despite a brief return to the top in 1982 with the single “You Can Do Magic“.

The group continues to record material and tour with regularity. Their 2007 album Here & Now was a collaboration with a new generation of musicians who credited the band as an influence. America won a Grammy Award for Best New Artist at the 15th Annual Grammy Awards. The group has also been inducted into the Vocal Group Hall of Fame and has received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

Cool piece of Trivia: All of their album titles begin with the letter “H” with exception to their first album, America, which is commonly referred to as their Horse With No Name LP, named for the number one hit from that album in 1972. The albums are:

 

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Celebrity Sightings: Valentine’s Day – My Favorite Victoria’s Secret Super Model

“The minute I lay eyes on the super queen I involuntarily gasp. I literally sucked air sharply into my lungs like I never have before.”

I’ve decided to write about all of the celebrities I’ve met in my life. It’ll probably only be once a month, and I’ll crank them out until I run out of famous people.

First of all, Happy Valentine’s Day to all of my phicklephilly readers! I hope you’re in love or at least love something! If you’re not happy today, and if anyone starts talking about love, romance, hearts, cards, or chocolate, just slap them and say ‘it’s Wednesday!

It’s a coincidence and fitting that I release this piece on Valentine’s Day. Because this lady is and always will hold a special place in my heart.

This one happened about 11 years ago when I was working in Manhattan. The year was 2007.

I was sitting in a dive bar in Journal Square in Jersey City one evening after work. My buddy Howard was with me. I’m drinking a beer and reading the Daily News. On the Entertainment page was a little blurb at the bottom about how Alessandra Ambrosio was going to be making an appearance at the new Armani Exchange in Manhattan on Saturday afternoon.

I think every guy has an “It” girl in life. Some movie star, athlete, or model that they just adore. In the 70’s and 80’s for me it was Farrah Fawcett. I LOVED Farrah. I owned all of her posters starting with the famous red swimsuit. I was even a card carrying member of her fan club. Always watched Charlie’s Angels and all of her movies.

But sometime in the 90’s I noticed this one model in a Victoria’s Secret catalogue that really struck me. I didn’t know her name for several years. But once you have a woman in your life and order something from their catalogue, they never stop coming. They must send them out every couple of weeks because I had loads of them coming to the house.

I eventually found out the identity of this exquisite woman. Alessandra Ambrosio. I was in love. Her perfectly symmetrical face, with her feline eyes and lovely tawny hair is a combination that drove me nuts. I absolutely have adored Alessandra for years. I know I love beautiful women, it’s hard not to. But Alessandra to me is one of the most beautiful women on the planet.

Alessandra Ambrosio was born in Erechim, Brazil on April 11, 1981. Her parents are Brazilians of Italian, Portuguese and Polish ancestry and own a petrol station. She enrolled at a modelling class at the age of 12, and at the age of 14, she was one of 20 finalists for the 1995 Elite Model Look national competition for Brazil. Ambrosio was always insecure about her large ears, and at the age of 11, she had cosmetic surgery to have her ears pinned back, though two years later she suffered complications. In 2006, she appeared on The Tyra Banks Show, and said that the surgery was a bad experience and has discouraged her from ever getting plastic surgery again.

I would love Alessandra the same even if her ears stuck straight out like open car doors!

When Ambrosio was 12 years old, she partook in modeling classes, and then began modeling for Dilson Stein at age 15. Competing in Brazil’s Elite Model Look competition started her modeling career in earnest. Her first notable modeling job was shooting the cover of Brazilian Elle magazine. Elite passed along some of her Polaroids to Guess which led her booking the Millennium GUESS? campaign. She has since appeared in advertising campaigns for Gucci, Dolce & Gabbana, Calvin Klein, Oscar de la Renta, Christian Dior, Escada, Fendi, Giorgio Armani, Guess, Emporio Armani, Moschino, Gap, Hugo Boss, Ralph Lauren, Saks Fifth Avenue, Macy’s, Revlon, and the Pirelli Calendar. She has walked the catwalks for designers such as Prada, Chanel, Dolce & Gabbana, Givenchy, Christian Lacroix, Bottega Veneta, Escada, Tommy Hilfiger, Christian Dior, Marc Jacobs, Louis Vuitton, Balmain, Ralph Lauren, Halston, Vivienne Westwood, Giles Deacon, and Oscar de la Renta. She has appeared in numerous international magazine covers, including Cosmopolitan, Elle, GQ, Harper’s Bazaar, Marie Claire, Ocean Drive, Vogue and was the only model to appear on the cover of Glamour in the United States in 2006.

“I HAVE to go to A/X Armani Exchange on Saturday and try to see her! Do you want to go with me?”

“Why the hell would I want to go meet some supermodel? I’m gay!”

“Well she’s a fashion model and I figured you guys like stuff that’s fashionable.”

“I’m gay!”

So Saturday comes and I go to the local Rite Aid and buy a disposable camera. (Yea. I had a little cell phone back then before there were any iPhones or androids and that little phone didn’t have a camera in it. That thing was probably made by Fisher Price for all I know. A lot has happened in the world of technology in the last 15 years!)

So I’ve got my little cheapo plastic throw away camera and I hop on the PATH train into Manhattan. I get off at 32nd Street and walk East over to Fifth Avenue, The store is up around 56th Street so I need to walk north about 25 blocks. That’s a little bit of a hike. But it’s Saturday in the Summer and Manhattan is quiet on the weekends.

After awhile I finally reach the store. There’s a line of people to get in. I get in line behind this Asian girl and I go, “Is this the line to see Alessandra?”

“Oh, I have no idea. I just saw a lot of people here and I wanted to see what was going on.”

What a moron. How can she not know who Alessandra Ambrosio is?

The line is moving and I get inside.

The minute I lay eyes on the super queen I involuntarily gasp. I literally sucked air sharply into my lungs like I never have before.

I can’t believe I am standing in the same room with her. I can’t believe that I’m not seeing just a photograph of my queen. I am looking upon one of the most beautiful women in the world and the only thing that’s separating she and I is space.

I’m starstruck.

She sits down and starts signing things. I’m snapping pics and my heart is pounding. I’m getting closer!

Ohh…my love. My Queen! She is stunning! They take my name and write it on a little Post It. I assume this is because they don’t want any misspellings on the pictures she’s signing.

I finally reach Alessandra!!!

 

My arm around my queen!

I introduce myself and I can’t believe I am meeting her for real. She says my name and I swoon. My name coming from Alessandra’s lovely lips.

There she is! It’s really her! I’m shaking hands with my favorite woman on Earth. I’m looking into the eyes of the object of my desire for the last 10 years. She signs the photo, and I ask if they will take a photo of me with my camera. She agrees and I hand it to her handlers. I tell them to take a few just in case.

I put my arm around her, and lean in. My hand is on her shoulder! I’m touching Alessandra! My love!

I’m so close to Alessandra, I can smell her.

This is framed in my livingroom.

I will never be the same. I leave with my little camera full of photos, and the above autographed picture.

To Charles, Love, Alessandra. (Heart. Star.)

I love her even more now. I’ve met Alessandra Ambrosio! This day has been a dream come true. I’m holding the picture and I don’t want anything to happen to it, so I run across the street into of all things, a Victoria’s Secret. (Fitting!) I approach one of the sales girls and ask if I can have a bag.

“What do you need it for?”

I hold up the photo. “To protect this autographed picture of Victoria’s Secret model, Alessandra Ambrosio.”

The chick looks like she doesn’t know who Alessandra is and hands me a bag. I gently slide my treasure inside it. (puns abound) I thank the girl and nearly skip to the PATH station.

I’ve added these delicious little videos to close out this piece. I can’t watch the first one without getting worked up. I love her so much.

I met my super queen. I never met Farrah Fawcett. I loved her so much, but I met my new queen Alessandra. It was glorious day in my short life. She’ll never know how much I love her but I met her, We got a picture together, I touched her, and smelled her.

My lovely Alessandra…

 

 

 

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am & 12pm EST.

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Andrea – 2014 – S&M Girl

“Hi Lorelei. Daddy’s just going to take this fat, drunk bitch back to his room and tie her up. Then you’re going to hear a lot of slapping and squishing sounds. You’re also going to hear Daddy say a bunch of really foul sexually degrading things to this woman, so you better put your ear buds in and crank that shit up.”

One night a couple of years ago, I was out with a friend of mine. We were having drinks outside at Misconduct at 15th & Locust. He was telling me a story about this girl he met on Tinder. Pure hookup. She comes over to his apartment. Sadly, she doesn’t look like her Tinder pics. Which is not good. That’s like seeing a photo of a car you want to buy in the Auto Trader and when you get to the lot to check out the car, it’s an older model and a little banged up and maybe even a bit more car than you saw in the photos.

But he was drunk and up for the foul deed. He said she was a thick girl but he went to town on her anyway. Like my tinder profile says: “If you don’t look like your photos, you’re going to buy me drinks until you do.” So he said it was good sex except for one thing. He didn’t like that she wanted him to spit on her and hit her. There’s nothing wrong with what two consenting adults do with each other behind closed doors. Especially if everyone’s on board with what’s happening. But he didn’t like it. Just not his thing.

He told me that he wasn’t comfortable with that situation. He said at that point no matter what he was into or what he would do, he couldn’t do that again.  It just wasn’t him. (He didn’t spit on her or hit her at all) At that time, back in the beginning of 2014, I had just come off a break up and told him to send Andrea pics of me. Because I was up for whatever she wanted dished out. The key here is when it comes to dominance, be firm…not mean. There’s a big difference. I would discipline and correct her if necessary. And remember, the submissive party is ALWAYS in control. They have the safe word and hold the power to cancel the fantasy at anytime. That’s the rules of S&M play.

Well, nothing came of it. Until earlier this year when she connected to me on LinkedIn. LinkedIn of all places! Can you imagine with all of the dating websites out there, LinkedIn brings me the crazy S&M chick? So we chatted and did some texting. She wanted me to text her all of the things I was going to do to her, so I did. I have a pretty good imagination. She said she was getting really turned on and that we should meet.

I set it up that we should meet at the Ranstead Room. It’s just a good spot normally to hideout with somebody. I get there and I’m just chilling with a drink. She arrives shortly thereafter. My friend was right about her. In her Tinder pics she looks really hot, but in real life she is a lot bigger, and what was with that low tranny voice? Not good. I just wasn’t feeling it. I would have to drink a LOT of cocktails for Andrea to start to resemble her profile pics on Tinder. So I figured what the hell, I was already here and the drinks were flowing. She wasn’t that hot but at least I was someplace where nobody knew me.

Then the manager from the restaurant where my daughter works suddenly comes through the door and walks right up to me and says hello using my name.

Now I’m made. He can see who I’m with and now everybody there knows my name.

Andrea starts telling me about her life. She hates her job and wants to leave Philly. (Probably a good idea for us all.) She was seeing some crazy drug dealer loser guy. He’s suicidal, and does tons of coke. It’s bad, and she’s not much better.  I always thought if you did a bunch of cocaine you were skinny. Certainly not the case here.

After awhile we’re getting pretty tipsy. We went outside for a cigarette. She was on me like a northern pike hitting the bait. So I’m making out with her and people are walking by on Ranstead and she just pulls her boobs out. She’s losing her shit. She wants to take me back behind the building and give me a blowjob.

Yea. Great. I’ll just go stand behind my daughter’s manager’s Mercedes-Benz and you can give me oral. What if he walks outside and sees that shit? That’s not going to be good for me or anybody. Now, if this was Los Angeles and it was 1982, yea I’d be down for that, but not now. That’s gross. Sure, I’m flattered that she’s turned on enough from my words and the alcohol to want to blow me in a filthy alley, but no. Just no. I don’t roll like that.

She’s drunk. We go back inside and we’re in the vestibule and all sorts of things are happening with lips and fingers. If somebody comes through either door, we’re going to jail. So after that brief encounter, we go back inside. I kind of want to go home. In the right environment, some S&M play could be fun with her, but I’m just not getting a good vibe from her in this moment. She’s calling me daddy and all that shit. She says she loves older men, etc. I tell her I have an early sales meeting in the morning that I have to travel to so we should wrap it up. (A bold-faced lie)

She wants to go back to my place and have sex. Great idea. I can see it now. Me walking through the door to my apartment with Andrea and my daughter sitting on the sofa.

“Hi Lorelei. Daddy’s just going to take this fat, drunk bitch back to his room and tie her up. Then you’re going to hear a lot of slapping and squishing sounds. You’re also going to hear Daddy say a bunch of really foul sexually degrading things to this woman, so you better put your ear buds in and crank that shit up.”

No. Not happening. We pay the bill, and we walk over to 18th Street. I hail her a taxi and send her on her way. I was actually relieved when she was gone.

If somebody I met and was in a relationship wanted to experiment with some things, I’d be down with that, but Andrea just isn’t that person.

Update! She appeared at the salon tonight for a tan before she goes to L.A!

She’s leaving Philly for good!

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish Monday through Friday at 8am EST.

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Dina – 2011 to Present – In The Vault

“These clowns come in and are fans of Prova and act like crazy drunk, loud assholes. I fucking hate that. I literally want to call the cops and say these middle eastern looking guys were talking about taking flying lessons and not landing lessons and there was talk about the new Comcast tower being built.

They were that annoying.”

I crush it at the salon on a Saturday because I’ll be gone for 3 days. Dina, my friend and broker and I meet up at 1518 Bar & Grille. She’s 4’11” and adorable. She also has the metabolism of a bee. She loves Smores, fried chicken, Oreos, and ice cream.

Dina orders a lemon martini. I’m on my 2nd straight up with a twist and Asha the bartender hooks me up with house but it’s Ketel One.

She looks hot.  Boots, dark jeans, and custom leather jacket. Cute as hell. Dark curls tumble about her shoulders and of course that hot pouty mouth of hers.

I introduce her to  her to Prova the bartender. (See: Prova – 2015 to Present – Glow of the Sun) She looks amazing as always. Those dimples!

These clowns come in and are fans of Prova and act like crazy drunk, loud assholes. I fucking hate that. I literally want to call the cops and say these middle eastern looking guys were talking about taking flying lessons and not landing lessons and there was talk about the new Comcast tower being built.

They were that annoying.

Dina is amazing. She’s such a no bullshit girl who is so sure about herself. I love her plus she looks 18. I always knew she was too good for any life or job i saw her in. I’m also happy her husband is such a chill solid pup he doesn’t mind his hot wife hanging out with the Dark Lord and having drinks.

We need to get out of here. These Indian guys suck. So loud and annoying. I can’t think straight.

We close out and I let the staff know that there’s no hard feelings but that’s why we’re leaving. We need to talk and I need to hear her. I miss my friend.

We never go out on Saturday night. It’s all young drunk people around city. The women are extraordinary though.

We decide to check out Square 1682 but the staff sucks and we head to Sofitel. Liam is on and so is the waitress who likes to go topless when she gets drunk. Let’s just call her Tulip. I usually do a rock trivia thing with Liam but tonight I have a different one.

“You wake up and look out your front door and see the sun rise out of the Atlantic Ocean. Later that day, you walk out your back door and watch the sun set in the Pacific Ocean. Where is your house?”

Tulip looks great and I intro Dina to the crew. The bar is full so we sit and a quiet table in the lounge, which is glorious. Tulip brings a snack tray for Dina because as we all know, she loves to eat.

Dina’s happy and we order wine. She’s hungry, so more food is on the way. I got the drinks at 1518 but I know she’ll cover everything from here which is clutch.

We catch up on my life. Daughter Lorelei, the fitness center I should be opening in Rittenhouse in the next 60 days, and what’s happening with this blog, the book, and TV series we’re developing about it. Dina and her husband just settled on a house in Rittenhouse so I love that they’ll be in the neighborhood with us.

Liam is texting me solutions to my puzzle and they’re all wrong.

She says she has a strange story about a former colleague of mine. This person has since cut me off a couple of years ago for no apparent reason, but he likes to keep weak inferiors around him, and I hate his friends and wife anyway so its no loss to me. We could have been mighty but he never did what he was supposed to do with the business so now it’s just a trust fund baby’s way to play work. I loved the guy, but he has to make the juvenile choices he needs to make.

She tells me about this dinner she had with this other dude, I used to know that always had a thing for her. He’s harmless. We all still think he’s a virgin, so there’s that. He’s a really smart guy that is always super excited about everything that is before him, and it comes off as childish. I like the guy, but to me he’s just a bore.

If he would just get laid he’d probably chill out and get a different perspective on everything. I hate to say that, but that would probably fix his ass.

She goes to this dinner with this guy, as a friend or a wing woman or whatever with my former colleague and his horrible wife. I remember Everybody hated this guy’s wife years ago. She’s awful. She’s kind of hot. But only in the sense that if I were marooned on a desert island with her I would bang her for a few months but it would only be a matter of time before I became so annoyed with her that I would eventually kill her and eat her to survive just to not have to listen to her endless bullshit.

So they have their awkward dinner, little virgin guy gets an UBER with Dina back to Rittehouse. He gets in the car with her and says:

“So they are separated. She wanted it.”

I know this guy has a pre-nup so he’s well protected in regard to his daddy’s loot.

“Really?”

She thinks the wife is awful just like the rest of us.

“Yea, he went to an event and told her he could only get one ticket because they were really expensive, but he went with is new editor.”

“Oh wow. That’s a shame.”

“Yea, and his wife is living at the house, (because she doesn’t earn shit) and he said he’s living at a hotel but he’s really living with new editor girlfriend at an apartment somewhere.”

I am not shocked about this news because I knew he was miserable with that harpy years ago. She cheated on him in college and is crazy. She has destroyed property at the house, assaulted people at concerts, fights with him all the time, withholds sex all the time, has flushed his weed, and cigars, and is just an all around child who behaves as if she has fetal alcohol syndrome. Thank God she never wanted kids, because he dodged a huge child support bullet and should just cut that beast loose.

But he’s cut me off and I take that as a smite to me. I loved the guy and we were tight. I don’t know hat’s happened to him, but I’m sure he’s in a world of pain right now. I hope he gets through it okay, but I’m German and so is he, and if you read this dude, then schadenfreude is a bitch baby.

Karma can be a real fucker. You reap what you sow. You make bad life choices and that shit comes back on you like a hurricane. I just hope he can cash her out and flush her from his life and hopefully move on with the new mistress he’s fucking.

Dina and I eat and drink like Gods at Sofitel and I’m happy just to have her in my presence and hear her voice. I adore her. She’s so sound as a woman. I wish I could replicate her into five more to hang out with. Maybe a lawyer, and accountant Dina would be a start.

I go out for a smoke and she pays the bill. (Love her!) We both trust each other implicitly with all of our honesty and the relationship is wonderful. She takes care of my money and knows how to keep her mouth shut. Obviously we discuss everything that’s going on in our lives and it’s so intimate that I can’t talk about it here but maybe someday if this becomes a TV show our characters can talk about children, and marriage, but I can’t divulge our secrets here. Don’t worry’s it’s not that exciting, but this is a dating blog and not a forum for right and wrong.

We decide to head out and Dina needs Ben & Jerry’s. Of course I stand and put her leather jacket on her slight frame. You have to be a gentleman 100% of the time with everyone, guys.

We step out into the night. It’s stopped raining and the street is wet and the air is cool.

Happily there’s a store half way down the block from the hotel bar and it’s still open. I’m a wine, cocktail and carb guy. I’m just not really into sweets or dairy anymore. It doesn’t agree with my physiology. Middle age. But she’s 28 and looks 18 and loves sweets. She says we MUST stop there. I’ve walked by the place a hundred times and have had no desire to ever climb the steps and go in. (Even on National Ice Cream Day, where they give away free cones all day!)

We go in and this is alien to me. I never go into ice cream parlors. It’s clean and bright. I like it but prefer a dark bar.

The kid with the hat and dreds and tie-dye shirt is sweet and articulate. He knows his products. I always admire that. Dina knows this place so well that if she asks for endless samples of every crazy flavor combination they will let her put them in her mouth endlessly. I have this arrangement with Prova but she does it for me with craft beers so I get it. The ice cream flavors seem delicious, and she devours a few samples lovingly.  She encourages me to partake in the samples but I know what rich dairy will do to my colon so I only do one. It is some sort of chocolate, vanilla, cookies and nuts and crushed cone concoction. It is exquisite in my mouth.

I get it. But there are things in my life now that are far sweeter than any frozen treat can match.

Dina decides on some lethal combo and they put it all on a sugar cone. This is actually a really sweet moment in my mind. I adore Dina. I trust her with my money and my secrets. She’s one of my favorite people in my life.

I’m not getting an ice cream cone but this reminds me of some of the sweet romantic moments of my young life. Getting an ice cream cone with a young pretty girl on a Saturday night. She manages my financial portfolio and is a trusted friend but in this moment I am just happy to walk her home.

She’s loving her ice cream cone as we stroll through Rittenhouse with me walking on the inside so she doesn’t get splashed by a passing car.

I love this.

I like walking her home to her stoop and giving her a hug goodnight. We promise to keep in touch and have a lunch in our future. She unlocks her door and goes back to her husband and her little dog Lily.

I light a cig and walk home. The streets are wet and slick. They reflect the lights and sounds of the city. I’m happy after a long day at the salon, and a sweet night with a feiend.

I look forward to tomorrow.

 

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