Hey there, predilections and peccadilloes!
As we ease ourselves out of another holiday, many of my loving readers have told me about their recent troubles with the local law enforcement. Stopping them for sobriety checks while they’re en route to a sweet caress and a hot tongue bath. Tossing them in jail overnight for being too drunk, drunk with passion and a fifth of Jose Cuervo Gold.
It’s a hard world sometimes, beautiful people.
Sometimes, in the case of the law, you just need to give a little kindness, a small token of decency.
Let me tell you a story.
The year was 1984, and I was high off the recent release of my newest album, "It Takes a Moment to Make the Love of a Lifetime." I was feeling sure of myself, and just purchased a slightly used De Lorean DMC-12, which was customized with gold plating on every square inch.
One night, on a midnight drive southbound on Highway 99, about ten miles out of Turlock, CA, I looked out my rear view mirror and I saw a couple of red and blue lights flashing. Once I pulled over to the side, the motorcycle cop parked as well and walked over to me.
"I’m going to have to ask you to step out of the car," the cop said.
I couldn’t hear the cop too well, so I asked if they could repeat the question. The cop took off the motorcycle helmet, and this long, blond hair parachuted across her shoulders.
"Would you please step out of the car, sir?" she asked me.
I told her to take a step back, and I opened up the windows of the De Lorean. As their metal wings gave in to the urges of night and lifted towards the sky, I couldn’t help but notice that Office McGrady was looking a little down. And damn if The Schmooz doesn’t have a soft heart for a sad woman.
I knew right away what would make her feel wonderful.
"You were driving a little crazy on the road, sir. Have you had anything to drink -" she started to say, but I placed a finger, just a finger in front of her soft, comely lips.
"Honey, I think you dropped something on the ground here," I whispered.
She looked me incredulously, but asked, "What?"
I slowly raised my cupped hands towards her face.
"Your smile," I teased her.
And that was it. That was all it took to open the floodgates of love that had been locked up inside of Karen. The night was ours, as every inch of my coveted car was occupied by our hot and simmering bodies. We even made love on the roof, watching the stars fade as the dawn took over the countryside.
So if you want the law to open up, readers, sometimes you’ve got to remind them that they are lovers too.
Spread your legs, drop your flies and realize!
Before I go, let me answer an urgent question from one of my readers:
Dear Schmooz, I really like this guy, but it would be unprofessional to date him. What do you think I should do, especially when he asks to borrow money?
- Lost and Confused in Minneapolis
Well, Lost, love and money don’t mix. That’s what banks are for. If someone you love wants money, you got to be firm. Unless, of course, you love somebody who gets paid for making love. In that case, you got to pay to play, if you know what I mean. Sometimes I’ve had a few damsels pay for the privilege of sweating with The Schmooz. Ain’t no shame about it.
I say love this man until you don’t want any more of him. I don’t care if he works for you, is in charge of you, or used to babysit you as a kid. If you want his love, make your body his!
Until next time, keep sending me your questions, your sexy pictures, and I’ll help spread the love!
Sincerely,
THE SCHMOOZ
- Reginald Thurgood is known to his legions of fans as "THE SCHMOOZ," an international Rhythm and Blues singing sensation who has made love to thousands of women across the planet and loves to share every poetic detail. He answers all questions on love and relationship...as he is an expert, baby.
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