Vulpes Libris

A collective of bibliophiles talking about books. Book Fox (vulpes libris): small bibliovorous mammal of overactive imagination and uncommonly large bookshop expenses. Habitat: anywhere the rustle of pages can be heard.

Pimp: The Story of My Life ~ by Iceberg Slim

PimpFollowing yesterday’s interview with Jamie Byng, Jay Benedict takes a detailed look at Pimp: The Story of My Life, recently republished by Canongate.

Unsurprisingly, in view of its subject, the review contains some fairly graphic language and imagery in places.

—o—

The first hurdle to get over with this book is the God awful cover. If I hadn’t known better I would never have  picked it up. It sports a black male model complete with gabardine, polo neck, dark glasses, checked trousers and high heels, oh – and a brolly and a fedora.  The ultimate bad taste 70s look.  You know – the decade that fashion forgot?

Someone forgot to tell the cover designer that the book starts in the 1920s and really concentrates on the 30s, 40s and 50s. The author wrote the novel in the 1960s, so where the 70s look comes into it I’m not quite sure. The model on the cover’s not the Author, because he appears on the inside back  cover – and he’s one Robert Beck aka Iceberg Slim. So, who’s the dude on the front? If this guy was paid to sell this book- he doesn’t. Wrong decade, wrong character, wrong look.  The title is printed in bold black underneath the aforementioned model and is enough to make you want to run a mile.  There’s nothing on the cover that says READ ME!

Right.   Having got over that, let’s get on with the Introduction.

It’s written by Irvine Welsh, the man who brought us Trainspotting and Glue, and he immediately tells us that Iceberg Slim did for the pimp what Jean Genet did for the homosexual and William Burroughs did for the junkie – and that he is probably now as essential reading as William Shakespeare. The only difference being that Slim was black. Okay Irvine, so how come he’s not on any school syllabus?

Welsh begs us to get beyond his life as a pimp and accept him as one of the most influential writers of our age …

Well, just how good a writer was he?  Is  PIMP literature, fiction, biography or biographical fiction? It’s certainly written from a hell none of us have known. It’s not the voice of the newspaper expose or the smug prison psychologist.  Stylistically, his novels are a treat (so we’re told) and his eye for the psychology of a character sharper than just about anyone you’ll ever read. His prose style is that adjective-rich mix, constantly looking out for the telling phrase, so often favoured by many self taught writers. Nothing pejorative from Irvine  Welsh there, then.

So far, so good.  Now, I’ll try to explain what this book is all about  . . .

Prior to being known as Iceberg Slim, (or Robert Beck as he later became known), he was born Robert Lee Maupin in Chicago on the 4th August 1918. No relation, I’m sure, to Armistead Maupin – the homosexual writer who wrote Tales from the City set in San Francisco – but we are back with  the classic identity crisis, like Magill, who called herself Lil,  but everyone knew her as Nancy;  or Dusty who was really Mary;  or Ziggy who was really David Jones but is also known as Bowie.  Exhausting, isn’t it? The mystery inside a riddle inside an enigma syndrome, I call it.

Much of his childhood was spent in Milwaukee’s poor North side and the industrial town of Rockford, Illinois – one of America’s most depressed cities – before returning to Chicago as a teenager. Abandoned by his Father, his Mama supported the family by working as a domestic and operating a beauty shop. Robert says his Mother prepared him for the pimp lifestyle by pampering him during his childhood. As a teenager he briefly attended the Tuskegee Institute in the mid 30s but he was like a fox in a chicken coop.  Within ninety days he’d slit the maidenhead on half a dozen curvy co-eds and was told to leave.

Robert was a tall, lithe youth and despite his fondness for cocaine, heroin and whiskey, his gift of the gab turned on a particular type of woman. He started pimping at 18 and plied his trade until he was 42, adopting the ‘moniker’ Iceberg Slim along the way – reputedly through standing at a bar  unflappably drinking whiskey as a shoot-out raged around  him. The greater likelihood is of him simply being slim, cold and ruthless.

Iceberg, so we’re told, has probably shaped the archetype of every blaxploitation movie pimp/hustler from Huggy Bear to Snoop Dogg in the remake of Starsky and Hutch.

He operated on Chicago’s unforgiving streets in a segregated black and white world where pimping was tied up with notions of upward mobility. This was way before the Black Panthers would have referred to this attitude as part of the problem and not the solution. His chosen route was the escape hatch for the economically degraded working class black man – to seize control, in a brutal and direct fashion, of the reproductive organs of the female to make money in order to generate status for himself.  The Author  beat women with wire coat hangers till they were black and blue, sold their bodies, stuck needles in their veins,  and generally robbed people blind – and that was before breakfast.

Pimping, as explained by the author, both simulated and replicated chattel slavery, or the owning of bodies for the purposes of generating wealth.  It was the plantation in motion – a direct by-product of slavery. This theory does have a certain validity, with the white man being able to gain forcible access to the ‘stable’ of black women, while enslaved black males were treated basically like stud animals.  ‘I’ll let you be in my dream if I can be in yours’ is another way of explaining it …

After a particularly long spell in solitary confinement at Cook County House of Correction Slim was motivated to give up his life of crime and attempt to write about his experiences, from pimp to artist, instead. He psychologically reconfigured himself and moved to California in the 1960s, where he settled down to a wife, two daughters and redemption. His later years were bookish and  contented and he passed away in 1992 at the age of 73.

The Author starts out by apologizing for his brutality and cunning  as a pimp and hopes the level of revulsion other people feel in reading about  his experiences will propel them into good and enlightened living.

It starts in 1921, when he’s being taken advantage of sexually at the age of three.  Maude, the baby sitter, has her hands locked around his head in a vice like grip, his tiny head wedged between her ebony thighs, with the Author unable to catch his breath – resulting in years of neck and tongue problems.  Frankly, I don’t remember that far back, but imagine your tiny face being smothered in the nasty smelling genitalia of an adult body, and you pretty much get the root of his problem. The smells of the sexually mature adult suffocating you at an age when you can’t even communicate through the spoken word properly, must leave you with an unspoken rage for the rest of your life.  Early childhood sexual abuse is what it was, and it’s probably why Iceberg spent his life exacting a murderous toll on all women.

We soon learn that his Father was a white-spats-wearing, good for nothing bum, with a penchant for high yellow whores with their big asses and bitch dog sexual antics. His Father hurls him against the wall in disgust one day  and walks out on the family. Robert and Mama  move to Rockford, Illinois to move in with one Henry Upshaw, the only Negro business in town, who becomes Step-Daddy and, for a while at least, life seems to be running pretty smoothly. Henry’s religious and good and kind and all three of them are going to church.  Mama opens a beauty shop. Unfortunately,  the clientele for the most part are hookers, pimps and hustlers from the sprawling red light district in Rockford and the inevitable happens when a snake called Steve turns up and Mama runs off with him to Chicago, leaving poor old Henry to die of a broken heart. In Chicago, Dad turns up, and Mama organizes with Steve to burgle his house and wipe him out, which they do. Little Robert begins to see his Mama in a different light and starts losing respect for them all. In exchange all the men begin to  hate him too, so he takes to the streets and starts his long greasy slide into the grim pit round about the age of 14.

Not unlike Pinocchio, who hooks up with the Fox and the Cat for an actor’s life – “Hey, fiddle-dee-dee …” – so our hero comes across Party Time – a  petty hustler, who teaches him the art of ‘Murphying’, which is a con game played on suckers looking for whores. Real Murphy players, we learn, use great finesse to separate a ‘mark’ from his ‘scratch’.

I should add in haste at this point that in order to continue with this book there is a glossary of terms in the back (Iceberg Slim’s original) which you must become familiar with. In fact it’s best you visit the glossary first before reading the book. Memorize it, and then proceed.  ‘Mark’, for instance,  is a victim and ‘Scratch’ is money. A ‘Hard Leg’ is an older, street-hardened, used up whore, and a ‘Swipe’ is well, you know, the  male member … and so it goes on. The vernacular is pure street, and 1930’s slang, as made up by Iceberg himself. It’s black Damon Runyon turned 180 degrees south. You have to get your head round it in order to get through this book and keep cross referencing in case you get lost, otherwise you don’t stand a chance.This book is full of sucker jaspers (lesbians)  and flat backers  (whores who get paid for straight sexual intercourse) etc, etc … It’s also full of Black people calling each other the “N—-r” word –  you know – the one white people are no longer able to use, let alone write?

We are plunged into a pre-politically correct world where Blacks would call themselves  ‘Colored’  or ‘Negroes’ or ‘N—–s’, long before we got into ‘Afro-American’, or ‘First Nation’  or ‘Latinos’.  When you enter into this world you have to forget everything you’ve ever been taught.

Continuing with our story, Robert then stumbles upon Diamond Tooth Jimmy, a broken down ex-pimp and murderer from the 1920s. He takes to  hanging out at his gambling joint and begins a life of procurement. It starts to go horribly wrong when he starts sleeping with a 15 year old, who happens to be the daughter of the resident bandleader, and puts her on the game. Her first client, a friend of the bandleader’s, immediately tells on Robert, and the bandleader informs the Police, who in turn come to arrest him.  Robert is about to spend his first stint in a correctional institution – a recidivist activity which continues through the book.

When he gets out,  he hooks up with a whore  called Pepper who teaches him how to snort cocaine through alabaster horns, and had she lived in the biblical city of Sodom, the citizens would have certainly  stoned her to death.  We then  enter into a world of  characters called Weeping Shorty, Glass Top and Pretty Preston – a former Dandy and so called on account of the diamonds winking and sparkling brightly on his fingers and shirt cuffs. Preston tells Robert about Sweet Jones, the top spade pimp in the country, who’s slick and cold blooded.  Robert befriends him. After a dodgy start,  Sweet Jones takes a shine to him, grooming him into the No1 pimp on the planet and teaching him the pimp code. The equivalent would be like going to Sunday School for us. He tells him to stop grinning, teaches him to be ice cold, not to stick his swipe in his own whores  and to treat them mean, in order to  keep ‘em keen.  We start living a world of Hogs (Cadillacs to you and me) Billy Eckstein and Nat King Cole, speedballs and slum hustlers … and so it  goes on.  I don’t want to ruin your pleasure.

This is the story of a man’s life as he claimed to have lived it in that ‘Guys and Dolls’  theatrical hyper-real world.   He can’t really get out of the ghetto on account of the white man, who he’s constantly paying off in bribes. He’s like the proverbial rat in a trap, caught in a vicious circle of exploiting women and depending  on drugs, somehow thinking  it will lift him to a better place – to that high-walled forbidden white world.

Contrary to the nature of this book I really enjoyed reading it. I entered into an anachronistic world of juke joints and gambling houses and diamond studded geezers. Yes, all rotten to the core, but all with a staggering gift of the gab, especially Iceberg Slim himself who could charm the pants off you, literally. His writing is honest and sincere and at no point does he try to justify himself and his life,  which makes his conversion at the end all the more poignant. He does make an avowal of love in the final pages of his book, which he  considers to be his greatest  triumph, and so do I.  A great read.

Canongate.  2009. Paperback.   ISBN: 978-1847-673329.  320pp.

26 comments on “Pimp: The Story of My Life ~ by Iceberg Slim

  1. Hearne
    June 10, 2009

    It sounds to me like this book might be a bit of an acquired taste. I’m not entirely convinced that it’s a taste I particularly want to acquire, mind you. I wonder who the intended readership is? Good review though. It’s a book I’ve known about for some time but never really got any idea, from what I’d read about it, what it was really like. I do now.

  2. Jackie
    June 10, 2009

    I wonder if females would find him as charming? There seems to be an admiration of pimps by males that females don’t share, is it a fantasy factor? Or is it that females can see that the lavish lifestyle enjoyed by most pimps is completely paid for by the work done by women who have no rights or control in such a situation, often one they were driven to by desperation & ignorance. Most pimps at the street level do not allow the women to keep any of the money they earn & exact violence upon them if they try to leave the life. Pimping isn’t about sex, but power & money.
    Personally, I think prostitution should be legalized, which would then give the hookers some rights & they might get to keep some of the money they earn. It would be far safer for women to work in legal bordellos, than standing on the street corners under the threatening glare of an abusive pimp.
    I know this is a sidebar to the book review, I just get sick of men constantly glorifying pimps. Though I will agree that it’s a tacky cover, unlike the other Canongate titles I’ve seen.

  3. Moira
    June 10, 2009

    I don’t think pimps are being glorified or admired at all here Jacks. It seems to me more like a case of hate the sin but love the sinner … especially if he’s being as up front as the author apparently was. It’s perfectly possible to like the man – or at least the man he became – without admiring what he was and did.

    It’s our old friend ‘never judge a man until you’ve walked a mile in his shoes’ – who knows what direction Robert Beck’s life would have taken if he’d had a different start in life?

    And that whole underbelly of society thing does have a horrible fascination … from a safe distance.

    PS: Completely on-side with regard to that cover.

  4. halhenry
    June 10, 2009

    Well speaking as a man, I don’t admire pimps, and I don’t think the reviewer here does either. It’s like Moira says, you can like the man without condoning what he did for a living surely? It was a nasty, brutish, squalid life and he dragged himself out of it. Now THAT’S pretty admirable, isn’t it? I might see if I can lay hands on this book. It’s not my sort of thing but I’m curious now.

  5. Jackie
    June 11, 2009

    I really don’t think *anything* excuses one person beating another with wire coat hangers.

  6. Hearne
    June 11, 2009

    I don’t think anyone were suggesting that were the case. I’ve not read the book obviously but nothing in this review suggests that either Mr Benedict or even the author himself actually approved of pimping, if that’s what you’re suggesting. It sounds like a “tell it like it was” book, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

  7. jay.benedict
    June 11, 2009

    I would never condone pimping! Let’s remember we’re back in the 1930’s/40’s when pimping in a Black man’s world was synonymous with upward mobility. Not dissimilar to the British Empire when we had ‘whites only’ clubs and coloured people walked on the other side of the streets, perhaps looking enviously back at the white world. With Iceberg Slim it was payback time and one way of getting out of the ghetto except it didn’t in the end, and he had this enlighteniing moment, perhaps after his umpteenth incarceration, when he realized that his S/M approach to life wasn’t really lifting him out of anything at all. Redemption and conversion is what makes this guy different and ultimately likeable and better late than never I say!
    I agree with Jackie in terms of legalizing prostitution, that way you get rid of the ‘pimp’ element alltogether. I would legalize all drugs as well for the same reasons. Lord Hailsham said years ago if a sufficient amount of people disregarded the law it was no longer law anyway and that’s where we’re at in the world- Dario Fo, that great italian satirist, wrote a brilliant play called,” Can’t Pay-Won’t pay’ which sums it all up for me.

  8. Lisa
    June 11, 2009

    Enjoyed this colourful and er informative review. I would definitely read Pimp: The Story of My Life. And going against the general consensus, I rather like the cover. It has a certain je ne sais quoi...

  9. rosyb
    June 11, 2009

    I kind of know what Jackie means, though. You see a book like this and think it all seems so brutal but is presented as…cool. (Isn’t that what the cover is trying to do?) Even this review is pretty cool. And for those at some remove from that world it can be easy to see this world through a distancing lense that creates an exciting other world where people are hustlers and sharks and crims and pimps…and, in a sense, that kind of cool urban street lit can create an exciting world of thrills and spills and easy stomach-churning moments and armchair brutality…and you come back to the question of who is it for and what is it saying and is it revealing something or just an exercise in exploitation itself?

    On the other hand, presumably such sense of self-glamorising is also part of that world (I found that theme particularly interesting in this post, Jay) and therefore reflecting that has a certain truthfulness to it, in some way. And I also don’t really like the idea of some preaching moralising book, because there is nothing more untrustworthy than easy moralising or sentimentality.

    I haven’t read this book so I can’t comment on what side of the debate it might fall, but thoroughly enjoyed reading the review – very pizzazzy and vibrant as ever, Jay.

    One thing I’m wondering looking at this, though, is are there any female CHARACTERS (as opposed to types ). Sentences like this:

    “He tells him to stop grinning, teaches him to be ice cold, not to stick his swipe in his own whores and to treat them mean, in order to keep ‘em keen.”

    coupled with this idea of his finding his own “redemption” at the end is all very well…but seems a bit all about him. Self-contained. Are women ever empowered in a character-sense in this book – do we find out about real characters of this world beyond the types and are people’s thoughts and motivations explored beyond Slim, himself?

  10. jay.benedict
    June 11, 2009

    Most definitely! He has huge problems with some of his hookers who -guess what- have a mind of their own? They’re constantly leaving him and have ideas of their own, especially that Pepper girl, who chewed him up and spat him out several times and still he went back for more. The S/M theme works both ways-“Beats me!”as they must have both kept saying. He’s in a hugely vicious circle and is only as good as the girls he can keep. His ‘stable’ is everything. In my profession you’re only as good as your last performance and this is also applicable to Ice Slim and his girls.
    Je ne sais quoi literally means I don’t know what and that’s my gripe against the cover, Lisa. If it had Cab Calloway in a zoot suit I’d get it immediately, but je ne sais quoi is precisely right but not for the reasons you state, sorry to disagree with you here but it’s simply not the right period.

  11. Lisa
    June 11, 2009

    Er, I know what je ne sais quoi means, you cheeky blighter! ;) From a publisher/bookseller point of view, covers are there to get books off the shelves and into people’s homes – from that POV I think the cover of Pimp is successful. I’ve heard certain publishers say that a cover is not so much about completely accurately reflecting content as getting the book into bookshops in the first place (not easy). Snowbooks are interesting on this.

    Also, there’s just something about the image and the font that would make me pick up the book.

    Horses for courses though. Shall we agree to differ? Or we could carry on disagreeing about it, of course, which might be more fun.

  12. rosyb
    June 11, 2009

    When I saw the cover it made me laugh because i immediately thought of Peter Sellers. It looks very 70s (why DO we associate pimps with the 70s?). But it looks like a 70s comedy – which doesn’t sound like it reflects the book in the review- or does it?

    I have to disagree with you Lisa that readers should have to go “hmmm, that looks like a good cover from a publishers getting the book into the bookshop pov”. Snowbooks are interesting on this but going for generic covers that don’t totally reflect the book to get it in the book shop may make sense from a marketing pov but not necessarily from a reader pov – which is surely what we should be reflecting, no? It’s a bit like the whole “if it’s by a woman put pink and flowery all over it” debate. You can argue the case…but I don’t agree with it on so many levels. Perhaps it can be argued that it’s a necessary evil but the moment the individual reader has to see it in those terms is the moment we’re all done for, I reckon. ;)

    Winkie winkie. (I wish we had a seventies winkie.)

  13. Lisa
    June 11, 2009

    The reason I brought up je ne sais quoi is that I couldn’t put my finger on why I liked the cover, but I do. There’s something about it that would make me pick it up.

    I said that from a publisher/bookseller POV I think that cover is successful. I bet it was.

    And then I said that there’s something about the image/font that I just like. Personal opinion, that’s all.

    It’s a book about a pimp, called Pimp, with a pimp on the cover. And when I saw that cover I thought the book looked interesting. So shoot me!

  14. Lisa
    June 11, 2009

    Obviously, don’t shoot me (just in case any of our readers thought that was an invitation.)

  15. jay.benedict
    June 11, 2009

    The thing is, surely, we’re talking ‘autobiography’ here. Iceberg Slim’s autobiography? You can bet your bottom dollar that if it was Lenny Henry’s autobiography for example , he’d have his picture on the front, not on the back inside cover, and he’d sure as hell object to them putting a male model on the front and so would Muhammad Ali or any other famous person trying to sell their Autobigraphy-That’s the only point I’m trying to make, and the other point is that the 70’s, has nothing whatsoever to do with this period piece. I wouldn’t put a picture of the Viet-Nam War on the front cover of a book when it’s the American Civil War I’m talking about.You dig? The front cover doesn’t do the book justice, that’s all. Apart from that I’m enjoying the repartee and let’s get on with the debate.

  16. Lisa
    June 11, 2009

    I dig it, man, I dig it.

    So why do you think they didn’t put Iceberg’s pic on the front?

    Do you have a theory?

    I would be interested to see the original 1967 cover – maybe they did go down the ‘Lenny Henry’ route there. I noticed another edition just had the word PIMP on it (in pink) with not much other imagery at all.

    P.S If I had ever had an autobiography out I’d want a glass of gin on the cover with a smashed up laptop in the background, but that’s just me :D

  17. rosyb
    June 11, 2009

    Aren’t they trying to allude to the image of the “blaxploitation” stereotypical 70s pimp that Iceberg’s book was supposed to have influenced? (Err, spot the person who read Irvine Welsh’s Guardian article) :)

  18. Lisa
    June 11, 2009

    Could be . . . I had noticed Jay’s review said the following:

    “Iceberg, so we’re told, has probably shaped the archetype of every blaxploitation movie pimp/hustler from Huggy Bear to Snoop Dogg in the remake of Starsky and Hutch.”

  19. Moira
    June 11, 2009

    I have a question, Jay …

    What do you think his reason for writing the book was – apart from “To make money”?

    Did he write the way he wrote specifically in order to shock, do you think? Or was it the only way he knew how?

    I sort of skim-read it, and it seemed to me that his style settled down in the later stages, so I’m inclined to think it was his real voice, and the real voice of that world and that time … but do you think he juiced it up for effect?

  20. jay.benedict
    June 11, 2009

    When you change careers you better make sure it pays. I think once he called it a day vis a vis pimping and saw the light and thought hey! I can write about this and make some money and not go to Jail and I’m still only 42?! I’ll head on out to California and live the dream he did just that. He’s the epitome of the American dream along with Arnold S and all those other American good guys who re-invented themselves. You’d have to be American to appreciate that maybe, I dunno. England isn’t a country that lets you forget let alone re-emerge as something else. I’m sure some of the stories are amalgamated and apocryphal and fabulated and all the rest of it like any good autobiography is but his voice sounds real enough to me written in a language comparable to Damon Runyon’s – very street and loquacious and contemporary. I don’t think he could have made it all up, maybe juiced it here and there, but the vernacular is most definitely his and he has a body of work that’s quite impressive. I think once he found peace and contentment in the form of children and a wife etc..he wrote about what he knew and found his voice.

  21. Hearne
    June 12, 2009

    I’d be interested to know how the book was received when it was first published back in the 60’s. They were a decade quite unlike any other before or since and what’s now seen as maybe misogynistic wasn’t so obvious then. Society and attitudes have changed a lot in those 40 years and maybe this book wasn’t as shocking to 60’s sensibilities as it seems to be to at least some today. And the balance between the sexes has shifted too of course.

  22. Moira
    June 12, 2009

    “And the balance between the sexes has shifted too of course.”

    You mean the bloody women have got completely out of hand? :mrgreen:

    But – much as it grieves me to say it – I think you may have a point. We actually are more uptight about a lot of things today that we were in the 60s.

    Jay’s comment about England not being a country that lets you forget is interesting. How true John Profumo is a classic example – he was never allowed to escape his past, no matter how blameless the remainder of his life was – and he was a man who did a HUGE amount of good in his latter years.

    If Robert Beck (I can’t call him Iceberg Slim with a straight face …) had been English, he’d forever have been labelled as “Ex-Pimp Iceberg Slim” – the handle would have been shackled to him for the rest of his life.

  23. Mark G
    August 16, 2009

    Hi all, I have just finished reading this book the second time. I first bought it 12 years ago and it was found in my brothers loft.

    What people have to remember is that this is 1 man’s account of what he did way back in the 1930’s

  24. Jerky LeBoeuf
    March 17, 2011

    Equal parts autobiography, confessional, manifesto and training manual, PIMP provides the reader with a 3D, Technicolor expose of a much-maligned profession to which many have aspired, but few have had the brains and ruthless chill to pull off. PIMP is one of the most gripping, entertaining and – yes – important narratives of the Black Experience in 20th Century America.

    Let me be clear about this – PIMP is one hell of a book. I recommend it to any and all admirers of good writing. Iceberg’s prose is sharp and clean. He is equally adept at philosophical rumination as he is at good, old fashioned story telling. His viscerally drawn, slang-drenched evocation of a bygone era when the pimp bestrode the ghetto like an ebony colossus left me laughing, cringing in horror, and shaking my head in disbelief. Occasionally, I was even deeply moved.

    What a voice. What a talent. What a book.

    One of the most original aspects of Iceberg’s style is the way he made use of music throughout to help set a tone. It may very well be the first novel to have it’s own built-in soundtrack. As a fan of jazz – and now, also, as a fan of this book – I decided to go through PIMP with a fine-tooth comb and isolate all the sections that prominently feature music. This list can be found at the following link:

    http://dailydirtdiaspora.blogspot.com/2011/03/pimp-literary-soundtrack.html

    But I figure reading is one thing, while hearing is believing. So, after completing this task, I started up a YOUTUBE account, found the best examples of all that music, and put together a virtual chronological literary soundtrack by creating a special PIMP TRACKLIST. You’ll find the link to that tracklist at the above-linked blog, as well as cover art that I created specially for this project.

    The artists and the music featured in PIMP are all absolutely top notch, and I urge you to take a moment to pop on your headphones, sit back, relax and just wallow in some of the finest, most vital popular music that the 20th century has to offer.

    Thank you for your time and attention;
    Jerky LeBoeuf

  25. Chris walker
    August 3, 2011

    Thanks for your view.. This remarkable tale, you love to try to define. Which for me is so much better than the read! Only when a Afro Man has used the methods that were used on the weak, that it’s an abhorrence… But I would expect no less? I love your? Well obtuse beliefs. Maybe I should do a nonfic book that will make you happy!!!! Good N—– oh yea can’t say! Why not, I would except! But I’m not the average bear.. Your article was cute.. But look a little deeper.. Not to blame your smart greatgrand fuckers. Tell a real story about some real pimp shit? Get that Pulitzer! Scared?

  26. John Johnson Jr
    February 21, 2014

    where can I find a copy of David Backes Iceberg Slim pimp the story of my life???

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  • (The header image is from Aesop's Fables, illustrated by Francis Barlow (1666), and appears courtesy of the Digital and Multimedia Center at the Michigan State University Libraries.)
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