Friday, December 19, 2014


Another gem, this one from 2010. I have a few more drafts, will post them then back to your previously scheduled shenaniganistas.


In lieu of your usual haikueygooeyness, I would like to post a poem by one of my favorite poets, Leon Phelps:

What is love?
What is this longing in our hearts for togetherness?
Is it not the sweetest flower?
Does not this flower of love have the fragrant aroma of fine fine dining?
Does not the wind love the dirt? Is not love not unlike the unlikly not it is unliking to?
Are you with someone tonight? Do not question your love. Take your lover by the hand. Release the power within yourself. You heard me release the power.
Tame the wild cosmos with a whisper.
Conquer heaven with one intimate caress.
Thats right, don't be shy, whip out everything you've got, and do it in da butt!!



Getting old is a sad time. Not in the trousers, since I seem to be only getting hornier at more and more inopportune times than I used to (sorry, Old Lady in Front of me at Walmart, that WASNT a garden hoe!), but in other ways. I used to be able to go to work, listen to Flanders or Crazy Eyed Santa for literally MINUTES at a time, go to karate, get home and masturbate furiously onto my neighbor's lawn (or my neighbor, whichever) and it was a good night. Hell, even last year I played football, did karate, and failed to satisfy my wife on a regular basis. I thought turning 30 would be the beginning of my drop off, little did I know how fast said drop off would hit.

Woke up this morning aching all over, annoyed at those damn kids outside at the bus stop yelling about some damn video game, and my pee came out in 3 streams instead of one. In my more youthful days, that meant chlamydia, but now it means sadness and olde age.... or chlamydia, I'm not a doctor.

Anyway, getting older seems to have some great benefits. You can be annoying as fuck, and no one can punch you in the face for it. Take Super Mario.

Super Mario is a fat guy with a delicious mustache at my dojo. He's a nice enough fella, easygoing and a great cook. Super Mario is also old. This comes into play OFTEN. He has roughly 493120894 ailments that he will list and describe anytime he has a chance to corner you. In my younger days, I was able to stand there and nod appreciatively. Now, I turn and walk away as he is talking because I realize as I get older there's no point in wasting my already shortened time on this earth listening to shit I don't feel like listening to. This stance also leads to less sexy time at home, but more satisfying quiet time for me.

Before I go on with why Super Mario annoys me sometimes, let me start by saying I like the man. He is not a no talent douchemeister like the majority of people are after pleasantries are exchanged and the real person comes out, and that is saying something in this day and age. But sometimes he annoys me so much I want to blowdry my sphincter with a rusty jackhammer instead of listening to his praddling abominations of conversation.

Yesterday, I am practicing kicking people in the face, and he comes up and says "Got a computer question for ya" and then just looks at me with an actually quite adorable grin on his face, I guess waiting for me to beg him to tell me his issue cause Lord knows I can't get enough computer work! After waiting with raised eyebrows I ask nicely "What the fuck is the problem get to it" and he looks like he is hurt, but goes on to tell me his issue which eludes me right now because I wasn't listening. Fine, I tell him to bring his machine in and I will take a gander at it. He takes "I will look at it" for "please tell me your issue 2 more times in the greatest detail you can muster as I try to walk away from you" and happily follows suit, peppering in new ailments (he comes to karate, and MUST line up ahead of me, but can't do any of the physical stuff, which is fine, but he sometimes makes a big deal about it, which is NOT fine) and how far he can lift his arm and what happened to his third ball and blah blah blah...

I mean honestly, I don't bore people with my myriad issues, or if I do I would hope they would tell me to shut the fuck up, why do people feel it is OK to tell me all about every problem they have? Is it the big nose? Do the Brown Bear eyes draw you into a false sense of security? I know I sound mean but after a while.... FUCK!

You know, reading my post over, I am sounding more and more like Smeagol. Maybe he had it right (in this regard). When someone started saying something he didn't want to hear, they got a "I don't wanna hear that shit" and he called them a bitch niggie and walked off. I used to think it was because he was a douche, and he was, but not for that. If you look over your life, try to think of all the times you had to stand there and listen to some ass-nugget tell you stories about their cat or their sciattica or their trip to Honduras or the time they got syphillis from fucking that dead midget, and add that shit up. That is wasted time. My New Year's Resolution is to let a little Smeagol shine through me in that respect. WHen someone starts telling me about their toe getting broken that one time they were eating a pickle and tripped over a curb, instead of relinquishing my soul to the utter depths of unfathomable annoyance, I am gonna take a "fuck that, bitch niggie" moment and tell them (nicely) to eat shit and die and walk off. Will it lead to awkward social situations? I would bet not, because I am also a large black man, so it is assumed I have a natural bad attitude and I have done little to nothing to dispel that ideal.

As to Super Mario, I also got told he is heavily addicted to porn, so maybe it won't be so bad, couldn't be worse than that time I tried to clean Smeag's computer off and it had been so heavily infested with hardcore porn it was almost unusable... we shall see.

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