I am going to say what sports announcers want to say so bad. They flirt with it, dance with it, around it , and when the lights, cameras, and microphones are off they pay homage to it. The reason that Tim Tebow is so wildly successful despite his limited skill set is that he is an OPENLY GOD FEARING MAN. So when the announcers say he’s special, they really wanna say he’s blessed. When they say he’s unique they really wanna say he’s highly favored. And when Tim Get’s up from his popular prayer after scoring, they REALLY WANNA SAY AMEN!!!

But I just discovered a great lesson in life looking at the living process in reverse. Actually it’s a revelation in love if you will. Women, you could really stand to learn something from your daughters and how they interact with their fathers. They hang on his every word and say DADDY with so much joy and love that most fathers never tire of hearing this. She showers him with hugs and kisses even when it’s not payday. She’s quick to ask Daddy almost everything because she thinks he knows it all and if he doesn’t a good father will find out. He tells her how special she is, that she is his little princess, angel, the love of his life and apple in his eye.

In his arms she feels safe, in his eyes she see his love that will never falter, and the words that he speaks and she hears helps shape her into the great woman she’s destined to be. If she hears anyone talks bad about her daddy she’s quick to be upset where some women hear something bad about their man and they are quick to believe it.

She believes her father is the closet thing to God, before she is taught otherwise and comes to know that there is only ONE GOD. She loves her daddy unconditionally, without fail, and because she simply believes in him. Of course time passes and the little girl grows up and becomes a young lady heading into womanhood. But ask yourself women why was this the most time in your life that you felt loved? I mean real love that made you cry because the truth of it could never bore a lie. You are lucky now if you and your husband even truly like one another.

God said a man shall love his wife like Christ loved the church, translation: the man must literally die for his wife. Women do you think your husband would die for you? But you know he’d die a horrific death for his little girl, why is that?

Learn the lesson that your daughter is teaching you before she grows up and heads off into womanhood…just believe in him.

He dreamed that his shortcomings would one day become my strengths,

that his lack of outward affection didn’t mean his inward love didn’t run deep for me.

His dream differed I tell you,

his hopes and aspirations wasn’t meant to move and inspire many; no Jew, no Black, no White, or no Gentile, just me.

Not to be the man he was, but be better.

But how do you be better than the best? Far from perfect, but perfect for me.

His dream for me was to take his shortcomings he received as a child and hope I could figure out

how to be a man.

His dreamed differed I tell you,

he dreamed of wanting do right even when wrong was his 1st choice.

He dreamed one day I’d forgive him, but don’t he know that there is nothing to forgive?

His dreamed differed I tell you,

but he died before he got to see the mountain top.

The top of the mountain where his son loves his girls too much; showing it often, and in his choices of life he tries to make the wrong one not a choice at all.

That his son finally became a man who his father can be proud of…..

I find it ironic that we celebrate Dr. Martin Luther King’s birthday on the day that Donald Kenneth Walker was born.

He who dream differed…..

All addictions are cancerous by nature and please make no mistake that having a sexual addiction will not rot away the very fabric of who you once were as if it was drugs, alcohol, or any other known debilitating affliction. And like any other addiction, being a sex addict knows no race, religion, economic, or social status. Just ask the estimated 17 million people who suffers from its ills.

The Ugly Side of Sex was a lifetime in the making; my life time. I have never received any formal training as a writer and I feel blessed that this story poured from me so effortlessly. I wrote with the passion of learning, teaching, and hopefully having one person say they got my overall message. Just the completion of this book is a success to me, not how many copies I sell. To say that one of the very few times in my life I saw something through to the very end gives me great satisfaction like no other.

I wrote this book carved from pieces of my life expounded upon, in hopes to awaken someone before their addiction becomes their death. In retrospect I apologize for medicating the message as I wrote with tongue in cheek humor. Honestly I’m not ready to stand before you totally revealed. But I still saw that my message was very much-needed. An open mouth that saves a few lives is still better than a close mouth that saves none.

Your Lips is so beautiful that I bet your morning breath is cute

Success sucks subtly. Slowly swallowing swill, souring stomachs sweetening some sounds sans scornful skies. Softening salty sweat solitudes seething souls. Seeing songs seemingly strum strongly strikes strife; swiftly striking….swiftly striking! Subtly success sucks!!!!!!!

Get Your One Leg Up.......

If a picture is worth a thousand words then this picture’s word’s escapes me. If you care to comment, add your two cents, or have your own WTF moment then please leave a comment.

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Like most Saturdays, the trip over to my aunt’s house was long and boring. This was before the day and age of anything and everything happening on the bus.

As always it was just the three of us; me, my mother, and brother. My old man drove and driving us over there was something he rarely did, if ever.

“Nicky! Boy will you stop digging in your nose and eating your boogers,” my mother said through clenched teeth. “That’s nasty, just plain damn nasty.”

Hell I was bored and waiting to transfer on the next bus was taking forever. It was late in the summer time and being in DC you know it was humid too.

I was four years old going on five and picking and eating boogers was the best way to pass the time if you asked me. And the taste wasn’t that bad, especially the salty ones.

My mother pulled me close to her and wiped my face roughly with her hand. Looking down at me she had to be wondering what in the world was wrong with her child.

Our bus finally rounded the corner.  My mother continued to clean me up, finishing  just as the bus stopped in front of us and the doors opened.

Walking up the bus steps with my head down and transfer in hand, I was the first to get on, followed by my mother and brother. I Raised my head as I finally got to the top of the steps and stopped dead in my tracks.

“Boy what are you stopping for?” My mother asked, but she hadn’t seen what I seen. There weren’t a lot of female bus drivers in the early 70’s. And up to that point she was the first I’d ever seen.

But I didn’t stop because I was amazed at the fact that the bus driver was a woman. I stopped because in my four plus years on this earth she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Ever.

Instead of running and finding a seat in the back of the bus, I sat down at the first seat that was facing her. My mother found a seat not too far from me and brother raced to the back as usual.

I just sat there awe-struck hoping that my mother cleaned me up good enough. The bus driver must have felt me staring because she looked over at me smiling and gave me a little wave.

You’d have thought that I’d be shy and go into some little boy mode. Nope. I asked how she was doing and she said she was fine. We began to talk and I hoped that the usual fifteen minute ride would take forever. But it didn’t

I heard the ding, ding, ding, ding, signaling the driver to stop at the next bus stop. Looking, I saw it was my brother ringing the bell and bringing the best moment in my life to an end.

My mother and brother got off the bus before me. And as I got up to follow them the bus driver told me to be a good boy and have a nice day and that it was nice to have met me.

I don’t know where the thought came from, but this was definitely my first act of impulsive behavior. Instead of turning to go down the steps and off the bus, I turned towards the bus driver and kissed her. Without a thought or care in the world I puckered up and kissed this grown ass lady dead on her mouth.

To my surprise she didn’t push me away, wasn’t offended or anything. She was shocked to say the least, but to me this was so normal and the softness of her grown mouth made my little head spin (no not the little head).

My mother looked back to see what was taking me so long. I couldn’t see her face because my back was to her, but I could definitely feel the heat from her anger as she snatched my little ass away from the bus driver.

“I am so sorry miss,” was all my mother could say with a pleading face that had embarrassment written all over it. “I don’t know what’s wrong with this boy.”

“It’s all right; he’s just a little mannish. He’s cute as a button though,” the bus driver said smiling.

“Well once again I’m sorry ‘bout that,” My mother said as she pulled me off the bus. My feet didn’t touch a step as she yanked me out of the door.

“When I get you to your aunt’s house I’m going to break your damn neck. You just like your damn daddy. Just like your damn daddy.”

You’d have thought I’d start crying right there, but all I could do was smile. And this only made my mother madder as she dragged me down the street.

My brother was pointing and laughing at me the whole way there. Repeating the words, “you just like your damn daddy. Just like your damn daddy.”

GOD! Please tell me who else in your life will never let you down, turn their back or look at you funny no matter what you do. This includes your mother, your father, your Pastor, your BFF and whomever else you may THINK is your best friend. Well you keep thinking that they're your best friend while I know who mine is. Church!

For business purposes it would be virtually impossible to live without the 'net, but yes I could live with being "instant" for a month. I think for the great information that the internet garners us we have lost the ability to socialize. With your Plinky's, YouTubes, Facebooks, and such keeping us in the know with our virtual friends when is the last time we have made a friend the old fashion way? Let me help you out; it usually starts something like this…."Hi"