There is a cloud of doom hanging over the day, and whatever died in your ass is where it started.
Starbucks is a public place, populated with random people, I am OK with that.
But, whatever freak dietary lifestyle you live that can render a bathroom uninhabitable for upwards of 30 minutes after you drop a deuce becomes everybody’s problem.
I was writing and sipping coffee-
Wait, let’s be honest.
I was sipping coffee THEN writing when I felt my fiber supplement change my agenda.
We will be shitting NOW, please.
I headed to the bathroom.
It was a single…
I often wonder what is the driving force behind old school shitiness.
I bring this up mainly because I found an old picture of me as an alter boy and I was reminded of what a better person I am than most. (I was an altar boy for a total of 10 days and then I was dismissed as part of the “Sacrificial wine scandal” of 1976. I‘m the victim here.)
And then I came to Starbucks and just got in line in time to catch the tail end of a “How hard is your job?” …
There is a holiday show on right now that has a penniless single mom who gave some woman CPR on the way to work, saves a life, is fired by the shitty Grinch she works for for being late and after a LOT of HIGHLY improbable “Notebook” type shit, she finds true love and the woman she save sends her a Christmas card with a few grand in it.
And I found myself changing my ways.
My caffeine soaked, Grinch-like heart has grown three sizes and I am about to toboggan my hairy ass down the mountain to Whoville.
Dylan Thomas was an English poet in the 50s.
Like all poets that means he was all about the pent up, whininess that permeated the overwhelming majority of poetry from that era. (Test reader is a poet, after reading that line I was told to go fuck myself. I think I am onto something here.)
However, in the realm of pent up emo angst, Thomas was a god and should have sacrifices made in his name. (There has to be perks for being the top of your field, even if its whiny.)
But, and this may be a valid question…
Money makes the monkey dance.
That is possibly the coolest phrase I have ever heard of.
Mainly because that is what the Mayor of Cudahy, California said to an FBI informant.
Turns out he was taking bribes for permits to open Kush Clinics. (This was back before it was legal. You needed the medical card then.)
Why, because its big business, but nobody wants that clientele in their neighborhood.
Because the homeless smell better.
Back to the mayor and his awesome speaking skills.
He’s got my vote.
Speak into the microphone please.
That is old school graft.
It conjures up…
Just read something funny.
There is a serious post on Facebook by someone who posts nothing but protect life, protect the animals, blah, blah, blah.
And everyone who comments are the same types.
I have often heard them reference life as being sacred.
I agree with that, but not in the soft headed new age way.
But here is the funny part.
The latest post is, “Why are we still doing animal testing, when there are pedophiles in prison.”
And here is why its funny.
The list of comments is long and all centered around a common theme.
Perfume was invented by the ancient Egyptians.
They used it in religious ceremonies, burial preparations and daily use.
It is some of the most expensive liquid on the planet, ounce for ounce.
So, the modern usage for women is to lightly apply it.
So why do you need to know that?
Because I am under an aromatic assault.
Remember what I said about the modern usage?
Lightly being the key word there.
How the fuck that morphed into dipping yourself in a large wine barrel of perfume daily using some sort of repurposed sexual rope and pulley system…
Valentine’s day is one of those days where people freak out for a variety of reasons.
Saint Valentine must have been a sadistic son of bitch, setting aside the whole sainthood thing.
A quick Google search says that Saint Valentine lived in Rome when Emperor Claudius decided that soldiers were not allowed to marry because single men fight better, so Valentine was captured and tortured for performing marriages on the sly.
He was captured, imprisoned, and tortured.
That sounds about right.
Dating and sex, done right, can be some of the most uplifting things in your life.
Done the way…
“Opinions are like assholes, everyone has one.”
Someone threw that line at me recently.
As my twisted mind spent the next 20 minutes finishing that line.
Here are the top 3 second halfs to that phrase:
Opinions are like assholes, everyone has one-
I have joined a sorority.
At least, I think I have.
At any moment, a pillow fight in peekaboo nighties may break out.
Keep in mind, public masturbation is still a crime in the USA. (Europe? Who knows anymore.)
I know, I know, details.
I am in a Starbucks that is in a really nice part of town.
Translation? Money, lots of money in this area.
This is LA so the definition of money can hit ridiculous levels. …