I couldn’t get a breath of air until like a huge black balloon she would exhale with a whistling whoosh and relax, limply freeing my head. I remember more vividly the moist, odorous darkness and the bristle-like hairs tickling my face and most vividly I can remember my panic, when in the wild moment of her climax, she would savagely jerk my head even tighter into the hairy maw. I vaguely remember, not her words but her excitement when we were alone. I have tried through the years to remember her face but all I can remember is the funky ritual. Strangely, she had a reputation in Indianapolis, Indiana as a devout Holy Roller. Mama worked long hours in a hand laundry and Maude had been hired as a babysitter at fifty cents a day. Mama told me about it, and always when she did her rage and indignation would be as strong and as emotional perhaps as at the time when she had surprised her, panting and moaning at the point of orgasm with my tiny head wedged between her ebony thighs, her massive hands viselike around my head. Her name was Maude and she Georgied me around 1921. Most of all I wish to become a decent example for my children and for that wonderful woman in the grave, my mother. Perhaps one day I can win respect as a constructive human being. Perhaps my remorse for my ghastly life will diminish to the degree that within this one book I have been allowed to purge myself. Unfortunately, it would require the combined pages of a half-dozen books. I regret that it is impossible to recount to you all of my experiences as a pimp. The account of my brutality and cunning as a pimp will fill many of you with revulsion, however, if one intelligent, valuable young man or woman can be saved from the destructive slime then the displeasure I have given will have been outweighed by that individual’s use of his potential in a socially constructive manner. I will lay bare my life and thoughts as a pimp. Iceberg Slim: Portrait of a Pimp shows Slim’s transformation from pimp to the author of seven classic books.In this book I will take you, the reader, with me into the secret inner world of the pimp. Iceberg Slim’s story is now depicted in a major motion picture distributed worldwide. In The Naked Soul of Iceberg Slim his voice reigns loud and clear, and ready for vengeance. After all, one can’t help but root for the man who had the courage to rupture the bars of the cell society created for him, and the man who gave a voice to those too afraid to speak. The story’s arch of chaos to cleansing is startlingly honest. The racist, gut-wrenching universe Iceberg Slim inhabits throughout this novel and his struggle to endure is one that will be appreciated by all. Iceberg Slim takes us for a ride this time not only through the harrowing world of a pimp, but through his brain, his soul, and his psyche. From the corrupt LAPD to a broken heart, Iceberg recounts woes that the average Joe can’t even fathom. This is Iceberg, in California, broken down into a million pieces of anger, wisdom, but ready for a shift in his own consciousness. This time around, he puts the emphasis on reality with his collection of personal essays. Iceberg Slim took the public into the raw, unseen, predatory reality of America with his first book, Pimp. Iceberg Slim described himself as “ill…from America’s fake façade of justice and democracy,” an illness that may have been a detriment, but evolved into the tales that serve as a chilling reminder that we are all still inmates of one prison or another, and the time to break free has arrived.
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