I’m addicted to the Black ladies and I don’t want to be cured. I love what my fascination makes me. A Black female worshiper. A six-foot-three, le...n and muscular Black man born and raised in the Northern Territories in Canada. I grew up around scores of white folks, and the only Black people I knew were my immediate family. Life was okay, I guess. My father, Ed LeBrun is a Lieutenant Colonel with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. My mother Elisabeth Johnson LeBrun is a Professor of African. You seem to have acquired three slaves now."Paul stammered and said, "No sir, Josie is just with us for overnight. Only until tomorrow morning."The principal glanced at Jennifer. "Jennifer, let me ask you something. You have had a bit of time to experience slavery. What do you think about it?"Jennifer looked at him and decided that she would tell him what she thought. It was time that Paul heard a few home truths anyway. "In general," she began, "I think the Master/slave idea is a better one. ‘Okay, I’m sorry that you were put in this position. From now on until I hire a new Regional Manager you will report directly to me. Can you have dinner with me this evening?’ ‘Yes, I can do that,’ a relived Margot replied. ‘Good, I want to discuss your sales territory and your prospects. Bring what ever information you need with you to dinner,’ Cliff directed. That evening Cliff reviewed Margot’s accounts, prospects and leads. He showed her to classify the business prospects into business. Letting the man sleep, as uncomfortable as he looked, would also — technically — be illegal, and he was the Port Captain and Customs Officer, and the boat had to clear in immediately. He shook his head, reached down and picked up a compressed air horn, he was aware that this device produced a nice, loud, heart-attack generating howl, and he aimed it away from the man and pulled the trigger. The effect was instantaneous, yet somehow not quite what the official had expected. The sleeping man.