Love! New Jack City’s Theme Page 2
By Anthony Douglas Gere
I mean everyone loves a great deal, so yeah, maybe in a way what I may have
helped them with, help them do well in that department, but we still
consummated the deal from a bet, or some stupid thing I handed them over a
beer or something. Someone gave me an "IN" or a "Break", and didn’t know it,
and neither did I, kinda.
Anyway, as they left, the people in my original design team for my invention that
started out with me, they went to other firms that got wind of what I was doing.
And to make it short, I had multi-billion dollar companies, trying to invent, what I
invented, with way more people, time and money than I could imagine. So in so
to keep it, what I invented, I did something I know I shouldn’t have done, but in
the end, had to do and still got all I wanted to get back in the game, later on
down the road by doing things in a certain order. My penalty and punishment
for building a company with questionable stipulations, 5 months in a country
club. Now, I could explain the in’s and out’s of a club med for feds, but I am
sure, you can understand how this place, was far from prison or jail. There
were no bars, cells, we did more than most people do at home, and did it with
the comfort of ease and no pressure. This shit was crazy, and those not like
me and in my position that had made their way down to Camp Snoopy from like,
doing 15 – 20 years from inside of a cage to here in paradise because they
were now considered a low risk inmate, even things out and kept ego’s in
check. It was a mix of real lawyers, jailhouse lawyers and more, and it was
funny to see the focus on everyone in there. You either honored God, Allah or
the Almighty Dollar, but one way or another, you were there, honoring them all
for your doings. When I was there, it was pretty much a potluck of dumb fuck
specialist in a certain field or arena, and everyone had or has a story to tell to
anyone they felt, needed to hear why they could help you out and teach you
something when you both got out. So did I lie while I was in there, hell yeah.
After the word spread across the yard that I was for real and knew my shit,
there were people wanting my address, phone number, networking friends and
more, and wanted to hookup when we were back out free on the streets to do
what we can’t do in here. So yeah, I lied my ass off, but knew, I was not there to
make friends, I was there to do my time, and when I left, left everything I
brought in there, and I mean everything. If nothing else, I learned very early that
any one can travel on any road, just have a map, enough fuel and most
importantly, don’t change lanes while not knowing what is next to you. If
nothing else, learning that in your travels on whatever road or obstacle course
that may encounter you, stay in your own lane, go the speed posted, not the
one you think needs to be there or posted. There is a reason, and in most
times, bigger than what you think it is. You see to this day, I will honestly tell you
that even though I broke the law, I am no dam criminal, and if nothing else,
knew that I was a minority in there, and I didn’t need to make any more friends.
Another thing that was mind altering for me, were the once, very rich drug
dealers or scam artist, how they were now broke because they had been in
there for so long, that those they trusted on the outside, basically drained all
they got caught doing and tried to keep. Those were the workers of the camp,
and the ones that instantly volunteered their services to me when I was signing
in and taking inventory on all of the shit I brought with me to keep me as normal
as possible. You know, cell phone(s), laptop, money, papers and a photo of my
grandmother, with a phone book for those I wanted to come see me when I had
the time. The moment my friends dropped me off and I went inside of the
building, I was being sized up by the inmates that had the easy jobs, mopping
the floors or taking out the garbage in the administrating office. But they didn’t
know me, but judged my bald head, manicured nails, six foot five and a half
inch frame, with the body type of an ex-athlete. These were the ones that
needed money I found out later on, or all of a sudden, found God while reflecting
on how they caught, not on not to do something like that in the first place, so
you have nothing to get caught up in. I won’t say that I have it all figured out or
that I am different, but I can tell you this, my intentions were to never get over
on anyone.
By Anthony Douglas Gere
I mean everyone loves a great deal, so yeah, maybe in a way what I may have
helped them with, help them do well in that department, but we still
consummated the deal from a bet, or some stupid thing I handed them over a
beer or something. Someone gave me an "IN" or a "Break", and didn’t know it,
and neither did I, kinda.
Anyway, as they left, the people in my original design team for my invention that
started out with me, they went to other firms that got wind of what I was doing.
And to make it short, I had multi-billion dollar companies, trying to invent, what I
invented, with way more people, time and money than I could imagine. So in so
to keep it, what I invented, I did something I know I shouldn’t have done, but in
the end, had to do and still got all I wanted to get back in the game, later on
down the road by doing things in a certain order. My penalty and punishment
for building a company with questionable stipulations, 5 months in a country
club. Now, I could explain the in’s and out’s of a club med for feds, but I am
sure, you can understand how this place, was far from prison or jail. There
were no bars, cells, we did more than most people do at home, and did it with
the comfort of ease and no pressure. This shit was crazy, and those not like
me and in my position that had made their way down to Camp Snoopy from like,
doing 15 – 20 years from inside of a cage to here in paradise because they
were now considered a low risk inmate, even things out and kept ego’s in
check. It was a mix of real lawyers, jailhouse lawyers and more, and it was
funny to see the focus on everyone in there. You either honored God, Allah or
the Almighty Dollar, but one way or another, you were there, honoring them all
for your doings. When I was there, it was pretty much a potluck of dumb fuck
specialist in a certain field or arena, and everyone had or has a story to tell to
anyone they felt, needed to hear why they could help you out and teach you
something when you both got out. So did I lie while I was in there, hell yeah.
After the word spread across the yard that I was for real and knew my shit,
there were people wanting my address, phone number, networking friends and
more, and wanted to hookup when we were back out free on the streets to do
what we can’t do in here. So yeah, I lied my ass off, but knew, I was not there to
make friends, I was there to do my time, and when I left, left everything I
brought in there, and I mean everything. If nothing else, I learned very early that
any one can travel on any road, just have a map, enough fuel and most
importantly, don’t change lanes while not knowing what is next to you. If
nothing else, learning that in your travels on whatever road or obstacle course
that may encounter you, stay in your own lane, go the speed posted, not the
one you think needs to be there or posted. There is a reason, and in most
times, bigger than what you think it is. You see to this day, I will honestly tell you
that even though I broke the law, I am no dam criminal, and if nothing else,
knew that I was a minority in there, and I didn’t need to make any more friends.
Another thing that was mind altering for me, were the once, very rich drug
dealers or scam artist, how they were now broke because they had been in
there for so long, that those they trusted on the outside, basically drained all
they got caught doing and tried to keep. Those were the workers of the camp,
and the ones that instantly volunteered their services to me when I was signing
in and taking inventory on all of the shit I brought with me to keep me as normal
as possible. You know, cell phone(s), laptop, money, papers and a photo of my
grandmother, with a phone book for those I wanted to come see me when I had
the time. The moment my friends dropped me off and I went inside of the
building, I was being sized up by the inmates that had the easy jobs, mopping
the floors or taking out the garbage in the administrating office. But they didn’t
know me, but judged my bald head, manicured nails, six foot five and a half
inch frame, with the body type of an ex-athlete. These were the ones that
needed money I found out later on, or all of a sudden, found God while reflecting
on how they caught, not on not to do something like that in the first place, so
you have nothing to get caught up in. I won’t say that I have it all figured out or
that I am different, but I can tell you this, my intentions were to never get over
on anyone.
