| Author: | Bert Marshall | ISBN: | 9781370672646 |
| Publisher: | Bert Marshall | Publication: | April 7, 2017 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords Edition | Language: | English |
| Author: | Bert Marshall |
| ISBN: | 9781370672646 |
| Publisher: | Bert Marshall |
| Publication: | April 7, 2017 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords Edition |
| Language: | English |
My mom once told me that she thought I would grow up and become a serial killer. I think I was seventeen when she said that and I had settled down quite a bit by that time. When I was quite young, I hated to hear her say the words Kevin Jonathan Harris, because it meant I was in trouble. The rest of the time, everyone called me KJ and this nickname has stuck with me all my thirty-fours years of my existence.
I grew up in North Shore, Texas in a predominately black and brown environment and picked up Tex-Mex Spanish at an early age. By the time I was fourteen I had a total of four knife wounds and at eighteen, one bullet scar. I was what people referred to a "gang-banger" or more politely, a disturbed kid. Oddly enough I maintained honor roll status mainly because of all the hot chicks in the advanced classes. I found school too easy and the answers effortlessly came to me while others failed miserably.
I played football, basketball, and baseball for Robert E. Lee High school when we moved to Baytown right after my sixteenth birthday. I took Spanish and with the help of all the cute Latinas learned it could unlock the legs of most girls and on occasion, their mother's also. Hispanic women dress like do because they need constant validation that they are sexually appealing and I learned that my six foot three frame made me look like I was in my late teens and the moms were accessible because I told them they looked as young as their daughters.
My mom once told me that she thought I would grow up and become a serial killer. I think I was seventeen when she said that and I had settled down quite a bit by that time. When I was quite young, I hated to hear her say the words Kevin Jonathan Harris, because it meant I was in trouble. The rest of the time, everyone called me KJ and this nickname has stuck with me all my thirty-fours years of my existence.
I grew up in North Shore, Texas in a predominately black and brown environment and picked up Tex-Mex Spanish at an early age. By the time I was fourteen I had a total of four knife wounds and at eighteen, one bullet scar. I was what people referred to a "gang-banger" or more politely, a disturbed kid. Oddly enough I maintained honor roll status mainly because of all the hot chicks in the advanced classes. I found school too easy and the answers effortlessly came to me while others failed miserably.
I played football, basketball, and baseball for Robert E. Lee High school when we moved to Baytown right after my sixteenth birthday. I took Spanish and with the help of all the cute Latinas learned it could unlock the legs of most girls and on occasion, their mother's also. Hispanic women dress like do because they need constant validation that they are sexually appealing and I learned that my six foot three frame made me look like I was in my late teens and the moms were accessible because I told them they looked as young as their daughters.
