what happens in the d.r. stays in the d.r….

that is, unless you have a blog post to write…

the following is a facticious account of this past week’s activities in the dominican republic…that means that some of this is real, while some of this was pulled from the same place as some of these gop presidential candidates…

so it all started when a pack of well-read wolves group of newly minted mba’s decided it was time to reward ourselves by gorging off of the riches of some poorer country engaging in some additional leadership development and international trade expansion…and unfortunately, the dominican republic drew the short straw…

here’s a brief wiki-like overview of the country…

– population – ~ 10 milli

– capital – santo domingo (founded by bartholomew columbus…chris’ brother and the fredo of the columbus family)

– chief export – women with good genes stuffed inside good jeans…

– chief import – eager european jollywood…

we arrived in santo domingo and contrary to popular belief, there were no prostitutes waiting for us at the gate…they were at baggage claim…what was waiting was a heat/humidity combo that showed me what the devils pubes must feel like tucked inside his boxer briefs…devil pause…left my brow flooded with perspiration…i looked like i had just been bobbing for chicken wings in a deep fryer…

we collected our belongings and, as a result of some mediocre planning, we hopped in the back of a volkswagon bus for a 4 hour ride to our final destination of playa cofresi in puerto plata which, coincidentally, has an international airport of its very own…

watching the dominicans drive was like watching stevie wonder with a coloring book (i know i know…he’s a musical genius…but i was afraid people wouldn’t know who hellen keller was…)…yes the lane lines were there, but they seem to have no bearing on the path we traveled…

when i told folks that i would be embarking on this dominican excursion, i was greeted by every variation of the side-eye…while i saw it as an opportunity to read thick books and commune with nature, others saw this trip as a group of savages setting off to do to the dominican chicas what dirk and co just did to the miami heart…

but really, who knew the d.r. was a hot bed for prostitution…besides us,  every chick i mentioned the trip to, the dominican prostitutes, every fat european guy over 50 and all of the delta and tsa agents we had to interact with on the day of our departure…

being the scholarly cats that we are, exposure to such a new (and by new of course i mean extremely old) business model, we found ourselves engaged in a debate over the morality of such an industry…on one hand, you have able minded service providers (with laws loosely enforced to assure that these providers are “of age”), looking to deliver these services to some very willing would be virgins…some might say it’s the definition of a victimless moral crime…because it is actually legal down there…

an extremely open minded group member also added that this is not unlike any cat that buys dinner/drinks/booty implants for any woman he has no intention of marrying but has every intention of mixing belly sweat with…it’s just a more efficient process…

while, on the other hand, exchanging pay for play just feels wrong unless you’re terrelle pryor

well for me, the simple debate wasn’t enough…i needed to witness this industry up close before i could go back to the free clinic develop my own opinion…so, one night while my presidential suite mates were trying to find holes in the dominican immigration code, i decided to duck out and view these human atrocities first hand…

what happened…well i guess you’ll have to tune in tomorrow for part 2…but if you have any opinions about black prostitution meccas or their places in the moral code, i’d love to hear them…

elrock…to be continued…dun dun duunnn…

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About usbottlesandfriends
The tales of unpredictable truths from those guys your mom warned you about.

2 Responses to what happens in the d.r. stays in the d.r….

  1. The D.E.F.I. says:

    I had no clue prostitution was so rampant in the D.R. Really, no idea.

    *looks around* Are the womenfolk still paying attention? No? You lucky bastard.

    shh–here they come…

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