home. There was a Hollywood personality sitting next to me in first class. I still cannot remember his name right now.
So now I had Tiffany come out to my New Jersey home on several different occasions. The first time she came out with her then-boyfriend; I cannot remember his name. They were staying with me and Jill. The second time she came out by herself, she was a real problem for me as well as Jill. So Jill and I, with her boyfriend as well, I took them down to Atlantic City, where I gave her a bunch of money to shop with her friend, then we went out to supper, and then we drove home, then I sent Tiffany and her friend to the NYC Marriott Hotel and secured show tickets for both of them as well as made dinner reservations. However, I could not feel very comfortable with Tiffany. Two days later, they came home, and I took them both back to Newark Airport and flew them back home to California in first class as usual.
The second time she came out was—as I feel a terrible visit—again right around Christmastime, so Jill and I took her down to Atlantic City again and out to dinner, and again I gave her a lot of cash to go shopping with as well as have a few drinks or whatever else she wanted to do. Then the next day Tiffany and Jill went into New York City to see the Christmas tree as well as the roller ice rink as well as the stores in Times Square to shop and have a good time. However, once they got into the city, Tiffany was on the phone all day with her new boyfriend without even having a decent conversation with Jill basically the whole day! All she did was cry on the phone all day to her new boyfriend, who we found out later was a cop in California. I really thought Tiffany would marry the first guy she brought out to my home. He was studying to become a doctor, and when we were in Atlantic City, he told me he really loved Tiffany. These are mistakes that you must live with once you make them and must live with them the rest of your life!
Anyway, I told her to be careful of what she said to Krista and everyone else due to them being related to Mafia boss, Carmine the snake Persico, and she needed to be careful of whatever her or her police-officer husband wanted to say or do with my brother’s kids. I knew something was bothering me for a long time, and as it turned out, Tiffany and my scumbag brother were getting along very well, much better than they ever should due to what this scumbag originally did to Silva many years prior.
As of right now I will not communicate with Tiffany for any reason. I had wined and dined her, as well as her company, and never once did she ever tell me or wish me a happy birthday or ever wish anything to my wife either. She has become a money-grubbing shitbag that I want nothing to do with. The last conversation I had with her she started to talk about her father who had raised her. I told her right then to “stop talking about him because he raised you!” I do not want anything to do with her as of today. I have blocked her on my phone and on my computer because I do not wish to have any more communication with her ever again!
It really messed my life up when my scumbag brother, Dan, and his whore wife took it upon themselves to interfere in my life, trying to break up my marriage for their own fucked-up reasons. Two pieces of shit. To go out and look for my ex on their own time without even telling me what they are trying to do is unbridled bullshit. I had all the information and knew exactly how Tiffany was doing. I needed nothing from those two instigating, troublemaking motherfuckers. These two troublemaking shitbags could not take care of their own two children. They are looking into my life. Two scumbag motherfuckers. At the end of the day, I will let it go for right now!
Anyway, my mother really needed some cash, so what I did was go to the credit union for my job at PVSC and borrowed 10,000 for a car that I wanted to buy, which I ended up paying 4,000 for and giving my mom 6,000 to help clear up her current bills that my father could not handle. He was a terrible, drunken bastard without any respect for anyone. So, like a jerk, I told of my credit-union adventures to my shift partner Steven Greco, who went right to the credit union and took out 25,000, and him and his girl went down to Florida for a two-week vacation.
When I saw him come back, he was wearing a $5,000 pinkie ring, then he told me what he had done and also told me he was going to cancel his loan due to him cashing the check and the money falling out of his pocket. I told him that would end up fucking me up with my car loan. He said he did not care, just that he was going to get himself straight, at which time I called him a fucking asshole. Needless to say, Big Geno from the credit union called me and asked me to come down to the credit union. He wanted to talk with me, so I went to Garfield, New Jersey, to meet with Big Geno.
When I got there, he had me go into the basement where not only was big Geno there, two other monster-sized gentlemen as well. The one guy asked me what I did with the 10,000 I borrowed. I told them the truth. I told them I bought a car for $4,000 and gave my mother $6,000 to pay her bills. I told them I had no other choice and was going to pay the loan in full no matter what.
They were looking around the room when Big Geno said, “You mother is a real nice person. Why did you tell that scumbag, Greco, what you did?”
I said, “Because I was a complete asshole.”
They told me to bring Greco there tomorrow no matter what, which I did, and they told me to get the fuck out of there, which I did, and I saw Greco all busted up and also learned he reinstated his loan. What an absolute asshole!
In 1983 I had decided to join the NYC daily news golden gloves I really needed to do something positive with my life at that time, so I signed up for middleweight, which was 165-pound class. At that time I was in unbelievable shape and ready to kick ass in the gloves, so my trainer was Sugar Ray Robinsons, brother-in-law and a great trainer. He was teaching me so much that I never knew, and I had gotten so fast with my hands as well as my feet due to this great trainer. Then I had my first fight in Madison Square Garden in the Middle of NYC. I was going up against this cop/detective from NYC PD. It was an easy win for me thanks to my trainer. Anyway, I went back to the gym, and after sparring with a couple fighters, I felt my right wrist—something was terribly wrong with it. I was on the midnight shift at that time, and I slipped on an oil slick behind the pumps in the Ray station and was sent to the hospital, where they found my right wrist was completely shattered. I ended up having the company doctor perform the surgery (big mistake). I have the ugliest scar on my right wrist that you can ever imagine. After six to eight months of rehabilitation, I was told my career was over.
Also another messed up thing happened with this guy called Stanly Slater, who was a mellow man, very into his own thing; however, he was always getting fucked with by Artie Steffanelli who was a scumbag, degenerate gambler as well as an ex con. So, anyway, this one afternoon it was hot as hell outside, so we were all in my control room when Steffanelli started fucking with Slater, saying all kinds of stupid shit to Slater. Slater then had enough, then he turned around quickly and pulled Steffanelli’s pants down around his fucking ankles, and what we all saw had us laughing like motherfuckers due to the fact Steffanelli had no underwear on, and his penis was the size of a tiny pin. We all had such a great laugh at Steffanelli for being such a scumbag. Slater really did get even with this piece-of-shit loudmouth!
Then, back to work at the sewer, I hooked up with a great guy called Jimmy Seratelli, who was a bookie whom I liked very much. Anyway, I would go and collect his debts from everyone who had lost each week. It started to become a pain in the ass, but I kept at it. Jimmy and I became really great friends. I would collect all his action from everyone who had lost and give it to Jimmy for a small fee for my time. Then Jimmie decided he wanted to bet on sports, so I found him a bookie; and Jimmie started to bet kind of small at first, then he started to click, then it became lights out. Jimmy started to clean house, winning very nice amounts of money that I would go and collect for him; this lasted a good six to eight months. Then it was Derby Day, and Jimmy told me he had the winner, so Jimmy loaded up in such a way they were afraid to take his bets any longer. So Jimmy sent in his winner. After six or eight hours later, Jimmie had died on that Saturday night. Me and Jimmy had such respect for each other I would never let anything happen to Jimmy or ever let anyone on this earth ever mess with him. If I ever heard that, the person would get their fucking heads beat the fuck in. He was one of the best people
