My Ten Point Plan for New York City
by Tracy Blevins, Ph.D.
1. No Pot Arrests
2. 200 FREE Gifts
3. Teachers Fly Free
4. Family Nudist Colony NYC
5. Graffiti the Subway
6. Parks for the People
7. Red Light District
8. FREE Medicine
9. Geezer Disco
and
10. Let’s LIVE at the World Trade Center
The Detailed Explanations
1. No Pot Arrests: I really mean it, and it could happen. Without changing the law, there could be zero marijuana arrests in New York City. Think about it in these terms. The year before Giuliani took office, there were 600 arrests in all five boroughs during the entire year. By the last year in Giuliani’s tenure, there were 60,000 arrests. This represents one hundred fold increase (100X) the number of arrests, and Giuliani certainly didn’t make marijuana 100X more illegal, although he would have if he could have. New York City alone represents between 8-10% of the total marijuana arrests in the whole country. 25% of the City’s courts are supplied day in and day out with criminal court cases for the possession of a medically useful plant. These court cases waste your money and my money, and I’ve had enough of it.
There have been 14, 700, 000 (that’s almost fifteen million) arrests in the United States for marijuana possession since 1965.
2. 200 FREE Gifts to FDNY and NYPD officers for meritorious service during 9-11. More specifically, the FREE gifts will as yet go unspecified, mostly because the law doesn’t allow me to even hint that those free gifts might be blow jobs, although cunnilingus rules apply for interested females, as they always do. One per week for four years, the four years I serve out as Mayor of this fine town. You think that one extra blow job per week is going to be a big deal for me? I’d pick up an extra blow job a week, anyway, even if I wasn’t Mayor, so it’s like, “Big whup.” Plus, I’ve always wanted to make love to a police officer. Problem is, I could never find one I liked. This way, they’d put their names in a pool, double weighted for the firefighters who lost so many, and I’d pick at random in a weekly Lotto ceremony. You’d have to be ready to come down right away, though.
3. Teachers Fly Free: Teachers get one FREE acid trip, because we want our children’s educators to be really cool and well rounded people. Okay, well maybe not. Let’s just double their salary. On another point, we should dramatically cut the police force and double the remaining officer’s salaries, too. Better and smarter cops is what we need, not more of them. A lot of cops would like to be teachers, if it were better pay, and don’t you think that would solve our rowdy classroom problem?
4. Family Nudist Colony NYC: It’s just plain needed here. Any questions? If you’d like a small sample of my face, tits and legs, plus a couple of paintings I did (that actually sold for $500 dollars!), check out my website http://www.rainbeauxbarbie.com
5. Graffiti the Subway: If we let the kids graffiti the subway like they really want to do, they wouldn’t spray paint the buildings as much. Throw away that advertising in the subways and open it up as a FREE space for graffiti artists. The only rule: your shit better be good, or it’s gonna get sprayed over.
6. Parks for the People: Take back all that land along the water front and make it so that people can go down close to the river. Human beings instinctively go to places where there are trees and flowing water. Towards that end, I want to take down all the fences and open up all the gates in the city parks and reverse the current trend toward closing down small parks dotted around the city.
7. Red Light District: Those panty-sniffers who keep complaining about me and booting my posts would be able to go and relieve some of their tension just like that. Any searching around on craigslist would really be about true love, then. Check out a whole bunch of hoaxes and scandals that I caused when I was in London at http://www.hookersforweed.com if you have a couple of minutes.
8. FREE Medicine: I get mad if I talk about this one, so I’ll just leave it at that. Check out my blogspot (with entries back into October) to check out my crazy plan to give away a month of blow jobs to protest this country’s lack of universal health care. http://gangbanglottery.blogspot.com By the way, the FREE blowjob stipulations are still in effect, it being November and me being Blow Job Princess of November and all. At least until I find a real boyfriend, that is. But don’t ask me in person how to get your FREE blow job, or I’ll just tell you to go to the website.
9. Geezer Disco: Well, I’m not sure if many senior citizens would want to go to a disco, but they might, and if we find out that’s the case, we should give them one. We really should listen to older people more often. They are the “institutional memory” of the human race, after all. We shouldn’t just push them out into the margins of our lives.
and
10. Let’s LIVE at the World Trade Center: I can’t think of a better way to defeat terror than to build a living, thriving community at the exact spot where we hurt now. And, never to forget the many poor people who lost their lives and whose livelihoods were affected, low income and middle income housing would be included, integrated into the luxury accommodations, parks, small businesses, performing venues and schools. We’ll show the terrorists where we LIVE!
Notes:
FREE, when it’s spelled in all caps, means something that’s actually not entirely free in the “it doesn’t cost any money” sense of the meaning. It means that, yeah, it costs money, but it also costs something much greater than money to achieve. Stuff like health care. Yeah, it should be free in the sense that everyone should have access to it like they have in other modern countries, but it will never be free in the sense that it doesn’t cost any money. And it costs something much more than money to achieve, especially since we’re already spending this much money for a system that is so broken and unfair.
The funny thing about the return on FREE investments, is that is it also outside the actual bounds of money. For instance, no blow job is worth a hundred bucks. I mean, come on. You could get a blow on the streets of New York for twenty bucks if you really wanted it. Plus, jacking off feels good, too, and people can even go celibate without harm to their health. A hundred blocks is what it costs to get a blow job from me, Tracy, so in that sense, you’re just giving me free money. You don’t even need a blow job, anyway. You just kinda like the way I flirt on the internet, so you drop by sometimes when I give you an invitation. Plus the fact that I don’t sell blow jobs. I really don’t.
Let me explain. For my whole life long, I was a thousand dollar hooker. I would have always had sex with a guy had anybody ever asked me to do it for a thousand dollars, only nobody did. I was too busy in school to want to bother with that, anyway. Guys can be a headache at times, especially, when I’m trying to get work done. School took up too much of my time. I wish I had known how to do this back then, because I certainly would have. A thousand bucks every now and then would have made my life so much cooler. I’d have had to face a lot fewer tough choices had I been specifically aware of the steps needed to sell myself, but I was doing pretty much okay, so I never bothered to learn.
When I finally decided I needed to hook to get by, man, I didn’t have the right fucking clothes, if you can believe it! I was flat broke and panhandling. Of course my long blonde hair was gorgeous and my body was perfect from head to toe, with my smooth white skin, nice tits, delectable hairless pussy, and shapely ass and legs, but nobody could see that on the inside of the rags I had to wear. They could only see my very pretty, but not gorgeous, face.
So I said, fuck it. I’ll go down to three hundred dollars and wait there until I find a trick. And I waited and waited, and waited and waited. AND TRIED, mind you. It wasn’t like I was just hanging around hoping and wishing someone would come along and offer to have sex with me for three hundred dollars. I don’t really want to go into all the embarrassing details, so let’s just put it that I kept getting turned down at strip club after strip club. Brothel after brothel. Nobody would hire me to sell myself or tell me how to do it in a way that I could relate to.
I was supposed to go down to certain bars and pick up Arab guys, according to one friend, but I’d go down there and not see any Arab guys and leave in a panic. I was crap. I couldn’t believe it! You mean, after my whole lifetime of guys coming onto me and trying to get a little sumpin’ sumpin’, I couldn’t figure out how to twist one of these guy’s arms into giving me three hundred bucks?
So in the meantime, I kept creating all these hoaxes and scandals around London, where I was stuck. I tried to deliver a cannabis valentine to Prince Charles, flashed my bum to Buckingham Palace, and even did a bus stop strip on Oxford Street, capturing it all on camera and developing the whole concept of Hookers For Weed. You see, legalizing weed was what I was trying to do with my life, and I figured if I made the comedy show into this, I’d at least get guys asking me if I was a real hooker and why, yes, I am, and then BOOM. Back to America I’d go.
The plan fizzled. Nobody asked that question, or actually, they ALL asked that question, “Are you really a hooker?” and I’d have to answer “No” because I really hadn’t ever hooked. With all the joshing and joking, I could never say, “Yeah, bring it on, buddy. I got your pussy for sale, here!” Even brazen ole’ me was shy at one point, can you believe it? Then I started getting arrested, so I went into EMERGENCY BORROWING PLAN, and borrowed, yes, a thousand dollars from a friend back home. I really meant it when I said I owed him one.
So then I got back to New York and started doing the same kinda crap, only I called it “So High, So Ho”, an “interactive art exhibit” and I told people I was so high all the time and such a ‘ho. And it finally worked. I’m not gonna kid you about this. I was on the streets in my pretty five dollar dress with a sign that said “It’s my birthday and I’ll legalize pot if I want to” (and it was my birthday, May 31), I picked up my first street trick. Yay! I was so happy and nervous at the same time. He was an older guy, and I still like him. I have his number programmed in my cell phone. I will always remember the great guy who gave me that great birthday present of $300 dollars. And his cock was not bad, either. I told him he must have had a lot of fun with his cock throughout his life, and he responded, “Not nearly enough.”
So blah blah blah fuzzy details fuzzy details, I got myself an apartment (shitty though it is) and an internet connection and started up on craigslist, where so many of you were rude just because I was trying to find the right guy for me. You kept bumping my posts and bumping my posts. I joined up saying, “Hi, guys. I want a really rich boyfriend.” And I’d get a naughty note from the craigslist censors saying that it SEEMED like I was exchanging sex for money. Then I tried talking about what I was really like, you know, describing myself. How I wanted to play the guitar better and sing Pink Floyd songs in the park. When guys would respond to this ad, I’d say, “By the way, I want a really rich boyfriend,” and they’d go ballistic on me. Sluuuuut! Whore! La la la, yeah so what? Then my posts about puppie dogs and Pink Floyd would go to the trash can, too. Damn it!
I shrugged and went to the Casuals section, because I certainly wasn’t getting anywhere in the Personals. But the only guys in the Casuals wanted cheap or (mostly) free sex, and they certainly didn’t want to pay three hundred dollars with any regularity, so I came up with a scam to sell blow jobs called the Gang Bang Lottery. I got a bunch of guys in here for the Coloring Book, and they gave their little gift certificates, but I only wanted the guys who would jump through hoops and think it was neat what I was doing, so I made them keep going to the website, keep going to the website before they could come over. This was fun, and I got thirteen cocks in thirteen days, so it was a success.
But November is a long month, and I get bored easy. I decided to take it back to the personals, which is where I really wanted to go in the first place. I want to find a lover, dang it! A lover who will love me for me. I know you’re out there, sweetie, I just don’t know who you are yet. You are the man who wants a permanent part time relationship with a very sexual and intellectual challenge, a good cook and a puppie lover, performance artist scientist politician, whatever I am in your eyes. You love me. Now you just have to convince me of it.
To my sweet love that I haven’t met. (I can’t wait!)
