WE BELONG TOGETHER

Just to clarify, I am working on a non-fiction play called "I Fucked Mariah" (IFM.)

Please take a look at the video for "We Belong Together" (2005.)

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Mariah's massive 2005 single "We Belong Together" was her version of the story.

I felt it was time to tell mine...

VINTAGE I

the japanese characters... reminds me of the tragic experience we "shared" in tokyo together. Was the worst 48 hours of my life. I'm really sorry to say this but I don't think I'll ever be able to go back to that country...

POSTER 1.0

SMOKIN' SOMETHIN'

Regarding rumors that there was no pre-nup, Mariah said:

"Anyone who thinks there was no pre-nup is smokin' somethin'"

Listen. Mariah Carey does not fuck around when it comes legal stuff. She has a team of 6 full time lawyers and a second team of 12 lawyers to watch the first 6.

When I showed up at the door of her recording studio in Capri claiming to be a reporter from (I claimed to be a reporter for Corriere Della Sera), I had to agree to a grocery list of “terms.”
I met with one of her layers, Mr. Gary, who I got to know quite well during our relationship.
But that was only the beginning.

When we first started fooling around, you know, things get to a certain point, clothes come off, your holding each other, you’re kissing, and all of the sudden she would stop and give me this look as though I was forgetting something.
“What’s wrong baby?”
“You know…”
“No, I don’t know.”
“You didn’t sign the papers yet.”

Mr. Gary slid the papers under the door, and as I sat on the edge of the bed signing them as fast as my little wrist could manage, she went in to the bathroom which was connected to the master bedroom. While she was in there, I could hear her talking to someone. It was one of her assistants, her leg oiler, who was actually greasing up her legs before we went to third base.

We had our first argument when she came out of the bathroom. I told her that the lawyer and the leg greaser had completely ruined the mood.

We compromised, as this is the key to any harmonious relationship. I would sign anything her lawyer asked me to, and when she was with me, she would remain a natural – no grease, no oil.

The blowjob agreement was only the beginning.

I also had to sign something that swore me to silence for five years after our last interaction.

A small price to pay when you’re fucking Mariah.

THE TATTOO

Someone recently wrote the following note on my Facebook wall:

“on a scale of 1 to livid, how angry are you that Mariah is married to Nick Cannon? Not only that but the fact that they got branding tattoos.”

First of all, that’s the sickest fucking tattoo I’ve ever seen in my life. I WISH I had had the balls to get a tattoo like that when I was fucking her. People might say to Nick, you know, marriages don’t last forever. But guess what, the fact that you fucked Mariah Carey DOES. It lasts for fucking ever. For ever ever. And it never get's old

Coolest tattoo ever.

FUCKING RETARDED

To know somebody six weeks and get married… is so desperate.
Every relationship is great for the first six weeks - they’re still getting to know each other. There is no way this is going to go smoothly. Fortunately for us, it’s going to play out right in front of our faces. And this blog will be there every step of the way.

The Red Line

I was on the red line today going to Times Square, and out of the corner of my eye I see this guy get on my car, and I can just tell by the way he is waddling on with a cane that he is some sort of beggar, which, believe me, there is no fucking shortage of in New York. And sure enough he walks to the center of the car and starts his announcement,
"Scuse me ladies and gentlemen. I'm very sorry to interrupt you for this brief announcement, but I have had a full hip replacement and I have trouble walking. I wish I could be working right now. I had a stroke this January and my health does not allow me to work yet. It brings me great embarrassment to be here. Maybe some of y'all can help me out."
Nobody moves. No one ever does. I can't understand why so many people do this bc I never see them get any help. I certainly don't give to panhandlers, because that's how you generate more fucking smelly panhandlers. But this guy keeps going,
"I was a Vietnam vet."
And I'm beginning to wonder, "Is he just going to keep adding shit on until he gets something?"
"Just decades ago I was in charge of millions of dollars worth of equipment, and dozens of men. Now I'm reduced to begging for pennies on the subway."
But he didn't stop there.
"In 1988 I ran for city council in Queens. I was elected democratically, and was in charge of various important duties. Now my vision is poor in both eyes, and it is difficult for me to read the important documents I once read. But I cannot afford glasses. Nor food. So if any of you have some spare food you could share with me today."
I am generally willing to give spare food, rather than money, to panhandlers. Especially if I know it will go to waste. But I had no food.
"On September the 11th, 2001, I was near the World Trade Center, and I helped rescue many women from ground zero, and took them to safety. Now I have difficulty breathing."
And you could see as some people began reaching for pennies and spare change to put in his hat, as his story got more and more desperate. And I wondered what my breaking point would be. What would it take for me to give this man a dollar?
"In the 1990's, I fucked Mariah Carey on at least four separate occasions. Now I cannot fuck, because I am homeless and unshowered and no one will fuck me."
That's what it would take. Because I have also fucked Mariah Carey. And because we are not an enormous group of brothers who have fucked her, I will help this man, my brother, out with one dollar today.