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Murray Goldrump signed the lease for 3002 Grand Street in Soho. It is at this location where Murray and his husband will open their new all male review, The Twisted Cock. Their ad campaign features ripped condoms nailed to telephone poles and soiled BVDs causally thrown into select gutters around the block.
A quote from Rolling Stone, "The Twisted Cock.....don't you dare say bleeding hemorrhoid!
A men's social club that redefines world class leather attire with a wicked touch of exposed shaved ball sack for the discriminating cocksucker. A place your mom would feel at home with you mounting her from the rear".
Goldrump, well known in lower Manhattan, has been a fixture in the gay avant garde fecal movement and grand marshal of the 2024 Pride Fistfuck Extravaganza and Gutfeld Stain Parade.



Just imagine someone with advanced cancer of the bowels. Necrotized festering of the intestines. Foul smelling. Putrid. Impacted with hardened feces ..... and there we have the perfect metaphor for the NYC subway.
Now imagine the typical denizen of such an environment. And that brings us to the main character of this tale. Malcolm Cheezit, a 42 year old feral nigger with a serious mental disorder. In and out of various psychiatric wards most of his life and with an impossibly long criminal arrest history, found the subway to be his ideal hunting ground.
Dubbed "The Ejaculator" by the media, Cheezit had a habit of sneaking up to women on the subway platform and as the train rolled-up, Cheezit would quickly pull out his erect penis and like an unconcerned monkey masturbating in the zoo, he'd shoot a massive load of seman onto the back and rump of his female targets.
Cheezit had been arrested for this crime over 50 times and many of the transit cops simply ignored him, but when they didn't, they often blamed the women for unnecessarily sexually stimulating Cheezit and then pointed out their tight-fitting clothes or their breast size.
All this came to an end July 18th 2016, when after being released from a 90 day-hold at Belleville Hospital psych ward, Cheezit made a bee line for the 3rd Ave Subway.
With a full 3 months of seman build-up, Cheezit busted so much and so violently on the ass of an elderly Jewish woman, that he became disoriented, spun around and fell onto the tracks. Cheezit's head came into contact with the third rail and it exploded, spewing pieces of brain and skull shards all over splattering many of the people on the platform.



Hector Arroyo was a 33 year old thrice convicted Puerto Rican pedophile. Hector grew up in the remote and impoverished hill country 5 miles outside Bayamon PR where he gained the ignoble reputation for fucking barnyard animals. Bringing much shame to the family, Hector was put on a plane with a one way ticket to NYC. There he found his way to Spanish Harlem and got a job with door dash, but was promptly fired for eating the food he was supposed to deliver. Hector also had another problem....he had an overactive libido most likely due to a tumor on his nut sack. However, being emotionally stunted Hector found it impossible to form any sort of relationship with women his own age, and this is how he wound-up hanging around the elementary schools with a bag of candy.
Hector became known as the Puerto Rican pimp of Amber Charter School of East Harlem with an impressive stable of 2 dozen third graders he fucked and outsourced to any John who happened along.
Hector's career as a pimp was cut short when he was stabbed in throat while standing outside a bodega on 3rd Avenue. Hector was caught misgendering a rather large non-binary black tranny, because he refused to use the proper pronoun they/them. No arrests were made in this murder in spite of dozens of eye witnesses and security camera video. A video that went viral on Instagram gaining 1.5 million views.



Roy Liebowitz owned and operated Rosie's Koshar Jewish Deli on the corner of Lexington and 36th Street for 23 years. Roy took over the business from his father who took it over in 1928 from the family patriarch, Myron Pickledick, who died under mysterious circumstances. During prohibition years the family ran a low end speakeasy that specialized in Canadian Whiskey distilled in the Pickledick's toilet. Several unfortunate people were caused to go blind by the bad hooch but the police were unable to trace the bad booze to the Pickledicks. This forced the Pickledicks to abandon bootlegging and switch to selling meat. After the war there was a glut of horse meat due to massive scale down of military use of horses and many that didn't end up in the glue factory, found their way to American's dinner tables. With a few spices and creative cuts and voila' there we have Genoa salami, trulli pastrami or an assortment of flavorful briskets all made from the haunches of Mr. Ed.
This cheap meat with high profit margins allowed the business to thrive. When the meat became rancid, more spices was the cure. The store scales were cleverly rigged adding an additional 24% to every sale. The family had a well-oiled machine and with their connections in city government, they paid no taxes, although over the years they made many highly publicized donations to various charities no one ever audited.
As a fixture in the local community for so many years it came as a shock, when on November 23rd 2020 Roy Lebowitz failed to open the store. Patrol officers were called to the location for a safety check. They had to break in and they found Liebowitz hanging by his balls from a meat hook in the freezer. The police are still investigating.



he New York City Diamond District is located in Midtown Manhattan, specifically on West 47th Street between Fifth Avenue and Sixth Avenue and there we find Gotham Gem Exchange. A family owned jewelry wholesaler in business for 5 generations. The proprietor, Jerry Saperstein was an odd looking jew to say the least. Barely 5 ft tall and tipping the scales at nearly 400 pounds he was a comical sight to behold. Jerry also possessed the largest hook-nose proboscis seen in all NYC. In spite of Jerry's cartoonish appearance he commanded respect among the tribe for his shrewd business dealings and the way he wore his yarmulke at a jaunty angle.
Then on that fateful day of March 30th the doorbell and security camera announced 65 year old Hattie Joy Wiggins was stopping by for her monthly inventory replenishment. Hattie was the biggest retailer in Harlem for decades. Her clients consisted of some of the biggest names in the music industry. Mostly rap artists who would typically drop $100,000-$200,000 or more at Hattie's store.
Of course Jerry had been pawning off his most substandard rocks and overpriced gold to Hattie, but she didn't mind because Jerry was an expert flatterer and he always had a cold can of grape soda and tray of Twinkies to give her.
But on this day, something was different. Hattie looked disheveled and she was staring at the floor and mumbling under her breath. Jerry asked her was something wrong? That's when Hattie went into her pocketbook and pulled out a snub nose 38 revolver, aimed and put a bullet between Jerry's eyes.
 
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