My Housing Crisis Fixed!

Not my house!

My last blog involved me having to leave my rented spot in five days.  Since then, I have successfully relocated.  A friend is allowing me to sleep in a spare room until I get back on my feet. Another friend had offered me their home also.  Shout outs to that person!  Another shout out to a friend who helped me in another particular way!

Before I moved out, I sparked a conversation with the landlord/roommate, something that gained me more days in the spot. Yet, instead of milking those days, I moved out on Day 6.   Remember, I was supposed to move out on Day 5.  On Day 6, my house host picked me up and I packed my stuff in their car.

I won’t say where I’m currently living, at least not right now.  When Facebook friends start seeing my posts, they’ll figure it out. 

The lesson I learned from this? Don’t suffer in silence. Even if you don’t have the answers, at least let friends know your current situation.  Some may help you. Some may send you positive vibes, prayers, etc.  

Others show their true colors, which is a good thing. In the past, when their ass was in a sling, they wanted you to damned near kill yourself for them. Now, when you yourself need help, they either half-ass help you or won’t help you at all. But they sure do know how to give you unsolicited advice and criticize you. Now, I have the reason to separate myself from these folks and tell them what black sexual organ they can suck.

Because they have their own problems, I do realize folks can do only so much. If they could have helped me, they would’ve. Those people I have no problems with. It’s the selfish types who can suck my black sexual organ.

When I posted my last blog, I really wasn’t expecting anything. I just wanted to vent.

Still, I am thankful for the help I have received in the past few days.

Pic by n. r. nelson.

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Five Days to Move Out!

No, this ain’t my house!

Boy, did I wind up in the shithole. Some of it is my own damned fault. So, here it goes.

I move to Orlando’s College Park. I found me a room for six hundred bucks a month, utilities included.

Yet, before that, I was living in a friend’s spot for three nights. One night was spent on their sofa. The last two nights was spent sleeping on an air mattress on their floor.

How did this happen? I was evicted from my late mother’s foreclosed home.

So, I found a spot in College Park. I had the money. Yet, that money eventually ran out. During that time, I had been searching for jobs. Nothing. Not a damned thing turned up.

Housemates may have had the impression that I was sleeping all day and not job searching.  I can see that.  Still, most places I found wanted you to fill out applications online.  So, my “pounding the pavement” happened in my room and on my laptop.

As for me not finding a job, my past might have something to do with it. I’ve been fired three times from jobs.  Also, there’s a huge gap between my last employment and my current unemployment.  I blame myself for that. All those years working under the table has caught up with me. Also, in two of those cases of me being fired I was asking for it.

Also, I had been living a lie. Folks thought I was making my living as a photographer.  I even had my landlord/roommate thinking this too.  Actually, I was living off money my late mother left me, money I didn’t want to spend up.

Then, just when I had an employment tip, my car broke down…for good.  If I tried fixing that thing, I’d soon have another car problem on my hands.

So, eventually, my money ran out. So, what does this means? This means not being able to pay the rent for the last three months. This means either choosing between buying food or buying medication. This means trying to gain money to keep your phone on.  This also means a Facebook message saying I have five days to move out.

Even if I did have the money for rent, looks like I still might have to move out.  I now have to present a pay stub. This has something to do with the landlord/roommate and the mortgage company.

For real, I didn’t like the idea of other folks paying rent when  I wasn’t. I didn’t like seeing them going to work as I was staying home. I tried making things work. Yet, I couldn’t find a solution. Again, my job searches happened online.

As much as I talk about my bad situations, I still have to own up to my own contributions. Like I said earlier, I had been fired three times over the years. Once in 1991. Another in 2008. The last was in 2017. Yet, that was a contractor thing. So, that might not count.

I usually keep my problems to myself. Folks have their own shit to deal with.  Then when folks do ask me how things are, I usually lie and say they’re going well. I don’t like depressing people.

Let’s see. Unemployed. No meds. No car. Also, I got five days to move.

I’m not expecting people to take on my bad luck. I’m just writing this to vent.  Usually, I find ways to fix problems like this. Best thing to do now is keep my head up.

Pic by Darla Brown.

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American Booty Book Covers in London

Last week, my buddy Joe Romain Facebook-messaged me some pics. I live in Orlando, Florida. Joe lives in London, England.

Recently, Joe walked around London with my two books The Butt Freak Blues and Three Orlando Nightspots. The Butt Freak Blues is a book of poetry about politics, drinking and booty. Three Orlando Nightspots contains both photos of partying nightlife women and poetry. Nightspots’ poetry deals with drinking, my mom’s death and booty. Out of the two, Three Orlando Nightspots was the most successful.

As Joe traveled around London, he took selfies of himself with my books.

First, there was this shot of Westminster Abbey. Good lord, my booty pics in front of a church! Somebody is going to hell!

Next, it’s Parliament. Maybe, I should’ve included a nasty poem badmouthing Brexit.

Last, it’s Buckingham Palace, the residence of the British Monarchy. Will God save The Queen from my booty pics?

So, there you have it. Instead of the werewolf, you now have American Booty Book Covers in London.

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110 Pics of Folks Who Bought My Orlando Photo and Poetry Book

About two years ago, I created my photo and poetry book Three Orlando Nightspots. (The book and Kindle version are available on Amazon.)

For six months, I photographed Orlando nightspots 64 North, The Patio and Aero. During this time, I always uploaded the women pics on Facebook. Folks, especially the dudes, enjoyed the pics. The enjoyment handed me one of the reasons to create Three Orlando Nightspots.

At first, the book was just going to contain photos. Yet, my friend Joe Romain suggested I add poetry dealing with my personal struggles during the time I was photographing the pics. One incident involved my mom’s death. Another involved an alcoholic blackout. Then, there was a week-long stay in the hospital due to coughing fits. Last but not least, I was dealing with the aftermath of a broken romance.

Three Orlando Nightspots was reviewed three times. Website Bungalower said my pics ” manage to capture a quasi-disconcerting side of Downtown Orlando nightlife that is often overlooked”. The Inner Circle said , “ His poetry and spoken word pieces are raw,rugged,sublime and above all else,they are HONEST.” About me combining poetry and photos, Central Florida Post said, “Barnes has seamlessly merged his two favorite mediums.”

During the two years, I would photograph folks who bought my books. Then, I would upload the those pics to Facebook. Because Facebook friends saw other people with my book, they would ask to purchase their own copy. Truth be known, I am surprised folks are still buying Three Orlando Nightspots.

Previously, I wrote a blog about gaining sixty-two photos of people who bought my book. After that blog, I decided to reach the goal of one hundred photos. Last weekend, I gained one hundred and ten photos of people who bought Three Orlando Nightspots.

Most pics are photos I took myself. Some are selfies the buyers created, which surprised my ass. Those pics are of the folks who I mailed the books to.

Anyway, enjoy!

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My Third Studio Photo Shoot: A Leather Version

Recently, I photographed Mister Pierre Fetish Fashion. Actually, I was more behind the scenes as the main photographer did the work. Still, in between shoots, the two models would allow me to photograph them.

This time around for the blog, I decided to get creative using my photo software. Besides, I already turned in the non-creative pics.


Model One

Model Two: She had to leave early. This is why she has fewer pics than the first model.

Duo Shots

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My Second Studio Photo Shoot

Earlier this month, I did a second studio photo shoot for Mister Pierre Fetish Fashion.

The first one happened last January.

Again, just like last time, I was actually the behind-the-scenes-photographer. This is why you won’t see most of the models looking directly at me. They’re looking at the main photo person.

This month was a roller derby theme.


First Model:

Second Model:

Third Model:

Fourth Model:

Duo and Group Shots:

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Miss You’re-So-Vain (an anti-romance poem)

 You’re so vain.
Bet you think this poem is about you.
Know you think this poem is about you.
Still got looks that kill.
Dudes still crazy over you.
Dudes still wanting your extra time and your kiss.
Dudes still finding you simply irresistible.
Yep, your milkshake still brings all the boys to the yard.
You’re so vain.
Bet you think this poem is about you.
Know you think this poem is about you.
Folks don’t know you like I do.
Dated other dudes behind my back.
Did this while saying you love me.
Didn’t think I’d find out about the out-of-town artist guy,
did you?
Oh yes, I heard about it through the grapevine.
You’re so vain.
Bet you think this poem is about you.
Know you think this about is about you.
Heard you currently have someone else fooled.
Got his nose wide-opened.
Was told dude said for you
he will stand up next to a mountain
and chop it down with the edge of his hand.
Your purple haze has really put a spell on this voodoo child.
When he finally gets wise and dumps you,
are you going stalk him like you used to stalk me?
Bet you think this poem is about you.
Know you think this poem is about you.
Because you’re so vain.
You’re so vain.

My apologies to Carly Simon.

Painting: Girl Straightening Her Hair by Magnus Enckel

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