The Illeist
When people say, “What the actual fuck?” What the fuck are they actually saying?
An illeist is someone who refers to themselves in third person singular, meaning they’re talking about themselves as if they’re someone else. DeLane just learned a new word.
Actual quote from work: “We can have a pre-planning planning meeting before we go into the planning meeting.”
Actual quote from work: “I recognize strangers a lot.”
This coffee shop has no public restroom. Just one for employees only. So should I fill out an application to get hired so that I can take a piss? And after I relieve myself, can they relieve me of this job?
So there’s Fig Fest, Firefly Music Fest, Tailgate Fest, FYF Fest, Stagecoach Fest, Playboy Jazz Fest, New Orleans Jazz Fest, Austin City Limits Music Fest, Pitchfork Music Fest, Glastonbury Fest, Essence Fest, Isle of Wight Fest, Riot Fest, iHeartRadio Fest, MoPop Fest, Floydfest, Ohana Fest, FreshGrass Fest, LouFest, Hopscotch Fest, and hundreds of other fests. I’m going to start one called Bitch Fest, where I just grab a mic, sit on a stool, and complain about the number of festivals for 72 hours straight.
Texting while driving will get you a fine, but the cop I just saw driving his squad car while typing on his computer’s full-sized keyboard, I guess, is fine.
Diagonal crosswalks . . . because humans are too lazy to walk in right angles.
The latest installment of Jurassic World comes out next month. This will be the fifth one in the Watching Jurassic Park franchise, and the original movie debuted in 1993, 25 years ago. The audience can practically get Medicaid and senior citizen discounts at Sizzler. The dinosaurs should watch us onscreen in a movie called Jurassic Classics. Or Dinosores. We is old.
#GoFu<kYourSelfie
sheep,
while you were taking pictures of your food
while you were posting your current mood
while you were liking your BFF’s pics
while you were following the latest tweets
while you were checking the # of your followers
while you were glued to your phone’s screen
while you were engrossed in gossip and “fake news”
being wired and connected actually made you disconnected
you were in a coma when you thought you were “woke af”
while you were hashtagging everything, you weren’t paying attention
you missed it, you fell behind
a willful participant in your own cluelessness, foolishness
the powers that be be that power
that invisible hand that pulls the strings of your life,
we’re all puppets, but you love it
while you were 99% distracted,
the 1% enacted and impacted
your life, right in plain sight
behind your back, smoke and mirrors,
3-card monte with your rights and liberties,
abracadabra, their hocus pocus made you lose focus
and you let them do it
but you don’t care
you’re too busy starbucksin’ & star fuckin’,
yoga classin’ & intermittent fastin’,
catfishin’, ghostin’ & avocado toastin’
it’s loud and clear
you don’t care
so make sure you frame it right
wait, get that out the shot
ready? good.
you look perfect
say cheese, sheep
go fuck your selfie
Bus Adventures, Episode 116
I’m waiting for the La Brea bus. There’s a woman—tan skin, reddish/pinkish hair that’s pulled back, orange t-shirt, gray capri pants, lime green socks, and sandals—already at the bus stop. She is yelling about Eddie Murphy dancing and some other indecipherable stuff into thin air. Obviously, she’s not in her right mind. She’s out of it.
After she stops screaming, she turns her frustration and attention to La Brea. She grabs her plastic grocery bag full of what looks like socks and garments, and then begins to dart in and out of oncoming traffic, knocking on the windows of only black sedans and SUVs, asking the drivers if they’re Uber cars. It’s pretty scary. It gets so bad that after one driver waves her off, she opens the passenger side door as he’s pulling away at a green light. He manages to lean over and close the door, but only after I see the pure shock and WTFness on this dude’s face.
Our bus finally pulls up. I get on first, trying to give the bus driver fair warning of the impending adventure that she will soon experience. I try to motion with my eyes that Trouble with a capital T is about to board this vessel like a rowdy band of syphilis-infested, scurvy-infected, sex-starved pirates. However, I don’t think that my signal registered, for I’m sure she thought that I was making a totally unsuccessful pass at her. I tried.
The out-of-control lady began the journey by asking if anyone had change for a dollar. When no one had change, she gave every single one of us the evil eye. I stared out of the window. I don’t play around and make eye contact with “those who shall not be named.” So Medusa gets all up in our shit and starts hollering at us. Then, she immediately starts screaming at the window. Just behind her is a woman who’s tending to her baby in a stroller. The incessant noise and aggressiveness coming from Medusa is making a lot of folks uneasy. Like 9-11/Flight 103-passenger uneasy. Suddenly, the mother stands up and blurts out, “Shut the fuck up, you crazy bitch! I got my goddamn baby here. Won’t you shut up with your crackhead ass!” Medusa ain’t taking this lying down. She gets up in the mother’s face, and they engage in a verbal profanity-laced tennis match. It’s both repulsive and enthralling. I’m expecting them to both to throw one another off the moving bus. Eventually, cooler heads prevail, and they both subside their fury.
Seconds later, the mother pulls out her phone and calls up her friend. Putting her friend on speakerphone, the mother complains about Medusa out loud for all the world to hear, inches away from Medusa herself. Here’s an excerpt from the conversation:
MOTHER: I can’t believe this bitch! She don’t know. I am not the one!
FRIEND: Where are you now?
M: On the bus.
F: She still there?
M: Yeah, that bitch still here. She crazy as fuck. She on crack or whatever she on. she lucky I got my baby right here. If I didn’t have my baby right here, I’d slap the shit out of that bitch.
F: You need me to meet you up there? I will fuck her up!
After that spirited exchange, the mother calls her own mother to vent in the same fashion. Yep. Here it is:
MOTHER: Ma, pleeeease pray for me. Oh my God! Please pray for me. Pray that I don’t beat the shit outta this ho’.
MOTHER’S MOTHER: Don’t do anything stupid. Tell the bus driver.
M: They don’t care, Ma! They drive, that’s all.
MM: You better not be fighting up there. Who gonna take care of your baby if you get locked up?
M: Ma! I know! But I need you to pray for me. I swear to God! If she look at me again, I’m gonna…Oh my God! Oh my God…
At this juncture, the bus lands at my stop. I get off the bus. I do my customary wave and morning salutations to the four Jehovah Witnesses who frequent the train station. I dodge a flock of ambitious pigeons trying to cut me off from the staircase, and climb up to the train platform.
devolution: [mean monkeys]
The invention of the wheel, agriculture, and paper
Pulling electricity from lightning, erecting skyscrapers
Telephones, microphones, sonar, radar, printing press
Banking systems, currency, motor vehicles, steady progress
Aerospace, solar power, high-speed internet, wi-fi
Pasteurization, irrigation, making science from sci-fi
Language, art, philosophy, music and graphics
Medicine, religion, conservation, mathematics
Miracle after miracle, humans adapt, create, and persist
But what does it all mean if we can’t coexist?
We think we’re better than animals; we assume and suppose.
We’re nothing more than mean monkeys with enough shame to wear clothes
We put each other in chains, camps of concentration and internment
Attack the weak and disenfranchised, without any discernment
Where there’s politically and state-sponsored genocide of thousands of lives
Where 20 kids get killed and Congress doesn’t blink an eye
Soon it’ll register that you ain’t better than an apex predator
That ate its competitor, you just have a better editor
Writing history to elevate and separate us from the lesser, lionizing aggressors
Short memory is a luxurious privilege of the oppressor
So while tub-thumpers debate the tenets of religion and evolution,
The truly concerned will focus on our humanity, looking for solutions
Can’t really claim to be enlightened when we still remain primal
Can’t really progress collectively if our thinking is still tribal
Can’t really eliminate our rivals and say it’s all about survival
And wait for freedom’s arrival when our actions prove suicidal
Darwin had it wrong
Survival of the fittest masks survival of the witless
So until we figure it out
We’ll remain a planet full of fatalistic junkies
I seriously doubt
We’ll ever be more than a zoo full of mean monkeys
N.A.B.
You go to the restroom. You head to the urinal or toilet. You unzip your pants. You do your business. You go to the sink and wash your hands. See, this is where humanity can either soar to esteemed heights and skim the ceiling of godliness or crash into the nadir of neglect and nastiness. You had a choice. So what did you do? You just walked past the sink and right out the door. And here is the point where you should be skinned alive. Bruh, you just touched your genitals. Them shits ain’t as clean as you think. Now you’re going to go have coffee, shake hands, touch your face, touch someone else’s face, grab handles, cook, and anything else, contaminating everything that is and isn’t nailed down. Wash your fucking hands, man! You too, ladies! Being a nasty-ass bitch is not exclusive to any gender. Don’t be a NAB, a nasty-ass bitch.
Kids get too many choices these days. Just heard this woman say that she has to prepare multiple meals for her kids because one is a vegetarian, one can’t eat gluten, etc. Growing up, my friends and I didn’t have that option. We had to eat whatever our moms made. We had one option, and that option was meat.
Citizens of the island country of Lesbos are called lesbians. Yup.
When I was a kid, I used to check the change slots in vending machines for spare change. I did this for years. Up until the day I happened to stick my fingers in a change slot filled with bum piss. Ironically, it was a Mello Yello vending machine.
Recently, I saw for the first time a guy panhandling in the airport. I’m used to seeing this at bus and train stations. Not airports. He’s going to have to really hustle to get enough to buy one of these expensive airline tickets. Then again, he’s probably just trying to raise enough for his baggage fees or those $9 meals at McDonald’s.
There are some clocks that are 30 minutes ahead. How does this happen? What daylight savings time are they following?
Having an emotional support hamster, peacock, or any other animal is bullshit.
The survivors of the Vegas shooting can have emotional support animals. Not someone who feels a little “icky” or “super stressed, bro.” These airheads are taking advantage of the system. If you bring your emotional support pet and you don’t have a seriously legit reason, then I, and anyone else who feels the same way I do, should bring your pet’s natural predator on the plane so that it can eat you amd your pet.
You open a bag of corn chips or any fish dish on a plane. You’re holding us all hostage. You’re the real terrorist.
With that said, sky marshals should be prioritizing taking out these odor terrorists.
Why is it so hard to get the automatic sinks and auto paper towel dispensers to work? I swear. Whenever I find a sink that can finally detect my hands swinging back and forth in front of the sensor, the paper towel dispenser won’t notice me practically doing jumping jacks. If the sink works, then the paper towel dispenser won’t. If the sink sensor is playing hard to get, then the paper towels will flow freely. Most of the time, I just end up air-drying my hands by holding them out and busting spins like Julie Andrews did in the Alps in The Sound of Music. Hmm…it would be easier to just NAB it up and not wash my hands.
ten paces at dawn
Today
I will live
One last time
I tell myself
As I clutch the revolver
I try to hide my fear
No one will suspect
I loved them
I wish I would have been
Better at this
Don’t understand
Those around me
Because
Memories fade
Eyes struggle to open
Before
My heartbeat slows
Light
Into
Darkness
My eyes
Close
My eyes
Darkness
Into
Light
My heartbeat slows
Before
Eyes struggle to open
Memories fade
Because
Those around me
Don’t understand
Better at this
I wish I would have been
I loved them
No one will suspect
I try to hide my fear
As I clutch the revolver
I tell myself
One last time
I will live
Today
White Rhino
41167 05221
12044 04035
11111 17266
37000 86423
12044 01643
10158 08409
Cult
You make me
Obsessed with you.
It’s not my fault.
I can’t stop seeing you
Feels like a crown of thorns
Inside my head
Painful thoughts
Bringing me to my knees
I’ll worship you while I’m down here
Killing two birds with 100 stones
You win again
Outmatched, outmaneuvered
I’m enthralled by your ability
To destroy me
And all that I hold dear
Caught in headlights like deers
I have no other option but to
Submit
I will soon come to relish this pain
When hurt becomes joy
But that’s how I know you care
I can never leave this
Encampment
It’s all I know now
Tell me what to say.
Tell me what to see.
Tell me what to believe.
My demons and angels are one in the same
I love this hurt.
Someone
Save me.
Gentrifried Chicken
Cupping is becoming popular these days. It’s way different than spooning. Forking and knifing will be the next crazes.
A guy asked me the other day if I had any kids. He freaked out when I told him no. Then he asked me, “How come? How did that happen?” I said, “Well, I didn’t ejaculate into a woman’s vagina.” He shut up and kept driving the damn Lyft.
The seismic popularity of active wear is shaking the foundational equilibrium of the traditional dungarees, trousers, and britches universe.
A hover board is nothing but a Segway with the handle missing.
Saw a sign for a lost pet bird. A lost bird? A bird?! How the hell am I supposed to report this? “Hello…how are you? I calling because I saw your sign posted. Yeah, about the bird. Well, I saw your bird flying over First and Hill…about 1000 feet in the air…did you want me to catch it?”
One of the those Verizon commercials just came on. I swear Thomas Middleditch said 4LGBT network instead of 4GLTE.
gentrifried chicken joint
[jen-truh-frahyd chik-uhn joint]
noun
when white folks swarm in on a fried chicken joint or any other soul food establishment (usually located in the ‘hood or an area populated mostly by minorities) that they’ve recently heard is delicious, either through rave reviews from peers or from Yelp reviews
Other related examples: tacos, pho, boba, sushi, frozen yogurt, poke, etc.
Is it just me or does the concept of fraternal twins a bit disappointing? “You mean they’re twins and they don’t look alike. Awwww man.”
Can a woman be a man-nizer?
POLYURETHANE
Care about what other people think and you will always be their prisoner. —Lao Tzu
The facade is real.
The amount of work they put in to deceive you should make you nervous.
Paved over streets hide yesterday’s mistakes.
The problem isn’t fixed, just deferred
Delayed. It’ll come back like Hailey’s.
Or herpes. Or an underdog team in the final play of the game.
No one is listening to you.
No one gives a rodent’s posterior about the inferior or superior. They pretend they care.
Fake is the game of the named, or the name of the gamed.
They smile in your face, all the time they want to take your place. Ask the O’Jays. Not OJ. Although he knows about back-stabbers.
Excessively impassive.
Aggressively passive.
It’s how they operate. It’s how their world turns. Burn it down. Fahrenheit.
They avoid eye contact with the soulful, but give eye contact to their own.
Truth sayers and soothsayers aren’t woven into the fabric, they’re detachable. How convenient to them.
It saves them time from dealing with eternity. And now.
Incomplete.
Vapid conversation.
Choosing to focus on the meaningless.
Putting all their time and attention into the frivolous and immaterial, or worse, themselves.
Blank stares reaching out for any variety of notoriety.
Completely plastic in the flesh.
The only other thing that’s somewhat real is the polyurethane coating that’s worn like armor, to shield out anything true or of substance.
Because they can’t be bothered.
Makes me wanna holler.
While they’re talking about you behind your back, they should kneel down and kiss your ass. A caged mind leads the body to uselessness.
The Polyurethane people are all over.
Everywhere. Beware.
They stop and stare.
Look out for the glare.
Protect yourself at all times.
Someone has to care.
Bear Hugs and Onions
Dude in my standup said that he wanted to make sure that something was “repeatable, replicable, and reproducible.” It could just be me, but isn’t that incredibly repetitive?
I just want to go back in time and find the person who introduced raw onions in salads. I want to make him or her cry. I want to choke him out. Or her. Doesn’t matter. My vengeance to rectify culinary disasters knows no prejudices.
People don’t read anymore. For about 15 mins, I sat in an airport coffee shop watching people complain and bitch about how slippery a section of the floor was despite two wet floor signs posted at eye-level.
It is funny how we have stuffed teddy bears for kids, yet you really shouldn’t try to bear hug a bear in the wild.
A soccer team’s locker room should be called a sloccer/slocker room.
I want to invent a themeless theme park.
Cars depreciate as soon as you drive off the lot. Sounds ridiculous. I’d just drive the car around the car dealership for 2 weeks before driving away. Get my money’s worth.
Real conversation:
ME: How are you?
FRIEND: Sick with a migraine atm
ME: I’m sorry. Ugh.
For a second, I thought there was money in this migraine atm.
Ever talk to somebody and you see spit forming in the corners of their mouths? It’s pretty unsightly. It’s like that person has rabies and has to tell you about it. Go get your shots, weirdo! Keep your mouth moisture in your face.
Daughters of the Dawn
WAR PAINT
I’m tired of all the inconsequential bullshit.
I’m tired of all the peace talk from the pulpit.
I’m tired of all the kumbaya and cheek turning.
We’re trying harambee now, we seek learning.
Done with Sambo, Fetchit, Mantan, and Mammy too
Sick & tired of being sick & tired, peace to Fannie Lou
Tired of seeing cops standing over black corpses & carcasses
Do the right thing like Mookie, grab a can & take part in this
Don’t trash where we live, sling it at some Neiman-Marcuses
Done with the Uncle Toms & Stephens, y’all can get the hell out
If you ain’t down for the people, you’s a fuckin’ sellout
Eat shit and die, muthafucka. We don’t need you.
Maybe your spouse can join the movement & your seed too.
Calling us sellouts ’cause we’re down for the uplifting
While you slang poison to your own, junkies out drifting
You ain’t no better than the clan in them white sheets
Join their side, bitch, we’ll fight you too as the night creeps
Our use of the word nigger is an appalling fact
Our captors invented it, so why would I call you that?
You’re from the Dogon, Kushites, builders of pyramids
You can’t really think that it’s a term of endearment.
Respect to the First Nation people, a hail of cheers
Enduring lies and brutality on the Trail of Tears
From the Sioux to Seminole to the Delaware
Suffering together guarantees you won’t fail your peers
Likewise, we rise when we fall, become what we ain’t
Take our blood, sweat, & tears & wear it as war paint
Smear it on your cheeks, make the oppressors faint
Defile all their material gods, desecrate their patron saints
Switch up the slang, so they can’t break the code
Keep the culture fluid, can’t be stuck in the same mode
The vultures watch the lion, the boardrooms watch the streets
Trying to sync their metronomes to our African heartbeats
So it’s D-E-L, the Chiwetel of Cloverdale
12 years a slave to the rhythm, to hell with infidels
Edging for police oversight, it’s way too relaxed
Been followed, harassed, detained While Walking Black
And the first thing they do is turn a blind eye
Not even a second look, sit on the sidelines
Evil like the third antichrist, the Reich, the Sith
But when the truth comes forth, they plead the fifth
I scoped the game out from the mountain peak
Send smoke signals to spirits, knowledge I seek
Pray to the elders for guidance to light these paths
On how to deal with these uncivilized psychopaths
But see we know the deal, the score we know
Grandfather clauses, 13th Amendment, Cointelpro,
Tuskegee Experiment on residents, CIA pushing coke,
Katrina, lynchings, castrations, this ain’t a fuckin’ joke
Japanese internment camps, Chinese Exclusion Act,
Orange president wanna bring the “good old days” back,
Bloody Christmas, the Transatlantic Slave Trade,
Prison industrial complex, where new slaves are made,
Massacres at Wilmington, Thibodaux, and Rosewood
Tulsa, Wounded Knee, Tonkawa, and yo’ hood
King, X, Angela Davis, victims of FBI probes
Red and Lavender Scare, fuck all you xenophobes
Chinese Massacre of 1871 in downtown LA
Pigtail Ordinance against the Han building railways,
Red Summer 1919, assassinations, civil rights setbacks,
Eisenhower deports Mexicans in Operation Wetback,
Hate groups, Raping troops, bombing faces of brown and yellow,
Manifest Destiny evicting natives, a middle finger as a hello,
Harbingers of disease & wickedness with no panacea,
The Mayflower, Nina, Pinta, and the Santa Maria,
So much injustices, too many of them to even try to name
So many, I made some of them rhyme, now ain’t that a shame?
Atrocities with ferocity at inhumanly inhumane velocities
Then there’s curiosity and pomposity when we show animosity?
Fuck you! I’m through. Can’t fool me with Jedi mind tricks,
Subterfuges, ploys and plots, and dirty sidekicks.
Put on your war paint, my people, ahead victory lingers
Never let them turn the clock back, break their goddamn fingers
Their inferiority theory of us, in it we poke holes
I got Willie Lynch and Jim Crow in illegal police choke holds
You have permission to protect yourself, use your intuition,
Even if you obey the law, they’ll fill you with ammunition,
War was declared on you hundreds of years ago,
On your ancestor on the auction block near the pier row,
On your ancestor while they were marching and boycotting,
On your ancestor in the field, breaking their back picking cotton
Take their blood, sweat, and tears, and put in a bowl
Mix it up ’till it’s thick and dash it with some soul
Spread it under your eye, like eye black on a NOLA Saint
Never ever again, take what’s yours. Wear your war paint.
To my people of color looking for motivation,
To change the injustices in this damn nation,
Look for strength in one another and inside you,
Beautiful people, resist the next time they try to deny you
Fuck them all, and fuck you if you won’t ride too.
Placeholder
Listen…
And I ain’t the richest guy, but I’m so damn wealthy
All these soup kitchens got me feeling so damn healthy
I may be shorter than you, but I’m a head above the rest
‘Specially when I’m stylin’ in this crushed velvet vest
I know that you’re all in love with your man
I know that you’re head over heels, I ain’t a fan
I know that you think he can’t do any wrong
I know that you think that’s where you belong
But he’s a placeholder
I don’t mean to get all up in your business
But he’s only there until you come to your senses
He’s a placeholder
He’s just holding my place, keeping my seat warm
Hold onto your hat and weather this storm
And I ain’t got a good job, but I’m my own boss
And I get my fancy threads from Marshalls and Ross
And I ain’t the best looking, but I’m handsome enough
And I ain’t the smoothest ’cause my edges are rough
I ain’t got a car, but I’m always getting chauffeured
Who needs Jordans to impress when you rock secondhand loafers
I got no house, but the roof over my head is unorthodox
You can’t hate on my Model S-4480B Gaylord Amazon box
Your dude’s a placeholder
I don’t mean to get all up in your business
But he’s only there until you come to your senses
That dude’s a placeholder
He’s just keeping my seat warm, holding my place
Until that cold, hard reality smacks you in the face
I’m uptight and upright, a straight-up savage
I don’t care and won’t spare your lame-ass marriage
I’m nearby and hereby claim you as all mine
Not gonna share and I dare anyone to block my shine
And I ain’t gonna hesitate to wreck your home
And repurpose that wood to build our own
And I ain’t a weirdo, a stalker, or a creep
Life ain’t really fair, so I’m playing for keeps
He’s a placeholder
I really do mean to get all up in your business
Your guy’s only there until you come to your senses
He’s a placeholder
He ain’t right for you and you know that you know it
You need to open your eyes and recognize his opponent
I’ma show you, once and for all, that I’ve corrected some flaws
You told me to clean up my act, so I got some new drawers
Told me that I should be nicer, so I even fixed that
Adopted some cute animals. How cool are you with rats?
You said I should smile and lighten up before I croak.
I heard your man has one testicle; how’s that for a joke?
Said I was too bland when you avoided me like a leper
So then I tried to kiss you after I ate some ghost peppers
Too recessive? Excessive and aggressive tax cuts.
Too juvenile? I stopped singing “Back Dat Ass Up.”
Too aloof? Huh, what? This has been noted, duly.
Too presumptuous? You’re gonna be with yours truly.
Cause he’s a placeholder
It’s time to get all up in your business
He’s only there until you come to your senses
He’s a placeholder
Time for him to go, I’ll help him pack his things
He’s banished from this land, it’s return of the king.
we wear the night / polaris (*)
Trapezuis Music
I want to get a car just so I can follow assholes who try to run me over to the grocery store, wait for them to get out of the car, and then run them over in the parking lot.
Ever notice how some waiters refill your drink while doing a “I’m a little teapot” pose? They’ll have one arm on their hip. Look next time. Sing the song if you must.
Words that sound like girls’ names to me:
Salmonella
Inertia
Academia
Lasagna
Chardonnay
Rosé
Foccaccia
Ricotta
Pita
Was walking down this familiar neighborhood one day and noticed a church on the corner for the first time. Actually caught myself saying, “Where the hell did this church come from?”
I had a dream of a movie plot one night. It was Groundhog’s Day meets Memento. The main character kept forgetting things but kept repeating stuff.
Saw a man driving near Beverly Hills with his front bumper sitting in his back seat, sticking out the back passenger-side window. And they think crazy stuff happens in the hood.
Your playlist for your shoulder workout should be called Trap Music.
If your falsetto singing voice is your real voice, then shouldn’t it be called a truesetto?
Whatchamacallits, Thingamajigs, and Doohickeys: What I’m starting to call things the older I get
My walk is so sexy; it’s a mating dance.
I work with people with wild laughs. She sounds like an old lady sitting in a rocking chair while knitting and watching Jerry Springer, and he sounds like a crazy convict who’s about to be executed on Death Row and laughs at the detectives who are asking him where he buried the rest of his victims.
Lessons recently learned:
“Respect yourself enough to walk away from anything that no longer serves you, grows you, or makes you happy.” —Robert Tew
“Instead of wondering when your next vacation is, maybe you should set up a life you don’t need to escape from.” —Seth Godin
EAT CAKE
On the heels of the cry-baby
The train went through the tunnel
Only to splash deep into the mindless abyss
This land is your land
Time is a flat circle with sharp edges
From golden to garden, state your rights
A clown runs the circus, three rings of heil
Don’t feed the animals
Sweet potato presides, rain in the forecast
Brought an umbrella to a pissing contest
Talk is cheap, ignorance is free, dumb
The bed’s made, now lies in it
Janus is God now, pray/prey to him
Moving forward with or without ewes
The left behind are right in front
They do not what they know
To those too thick to see thinly veiled rhetoric
To the slave-minded crustaceans in our societal pail
To whom rather dismember his arm than lend a hand
They will be abandoned, forgotten in the dark
Let them blindly follow clueless false profits
Let them bask in the radiance of cold soullessness
Desiring fire for others yet water for themselves
For their rabid hunger, let them eat cake
Chicago Chivalry
Dick Wolf has now expanded his Chicago procedural franchise to four series with the newest installment, Chicago Justice. It joins its older siblings, Chicago P.D., Chicago Fire, and Chicago Med. More additions to the Chicago family are expected to roll out in the next year or so. Among the rumored series are Chicago Water and Power, Chicago Animal Control, Chicago DMV, Chicago Sanitation, Chicago Child Services, Chicago Metro, Chicago Tourism, and Chicago Public Library.
There’s a street festival east of LA called 626 Golden Streets. A 18-mile stretch of streets in 7 neighboring cities is blocked off to cars. Cyclists, walkers, skaters, runners, artists, musicians are all encouraged to enjoy the day (well, at least from 9am to 3pm). This is great and all, but upon first hearing the name, I thought they were welcoming everyone to piss in the streets.
Wilshire Blvd is probably the only street that paves itself with the constant tar bubbling up from the tar pits.
A deli isn’t a true deli unless you’re handed wet menus.
If I go to a Michelin star restaurant, I expect it to see tires at the bar.
Chivalry is dead. I held a door open for this woman once, and my woman at the time held it against me.
Chivalry is dead. Again, I held the door open for a woman, and she told me that she could get her own door and that what I did was sexist.
Chivalry is dead. I once ran and picked up this little boy out of the street because he was about to get hit by a car. His mother, who was 40 to 50 feet away, yelled and screamed at me. She thought I was trying to kidnap him.
Chivalry is dead. Gave my seat up on the bus for this disabled woman who had a service dog with her. I walked down the aisle, grabbed the bar, and then casually turned around. What did I see? She had her dog sitting in my damn seat.
Zero Emission
Judging how this year has begun, I’m sure it’s just 2016 in a 2017 costume.
If you cross a black cat’s path, will the cat have good luck? Or will it just scratch your eyes out?
Hallelujah Man is a man on my bus who wears a large straw hat, shades, and always says “Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah” to himself. Over and over again. I don’t know what he’s rejoicing about, but whatever it is, it ain’t really working, dude. He’s been rejoicing for years, and he’s still on the bus.
Bears. Since when did they get associated with so many things? Bears are identified as lovers of honey. They’re mascots for toilet paper, Coca-Cola (especially around Christmas), cereal, beer, hotels, fabric softener, detergents, sports teams, forest fire prevention, candy, etc. How did something that can maul you and rip your face off come to be known as cuddly and cute? By that logic, we should all have barracudas and piranhas in our fish tanks at home and jackals and hyenas playing around on the living room carpet with our kids.
A guy was sitting at a table with a carton of orange juice in front of him. He had his eyes closed and looked like he was intensely training. A woman walks by, sees him, and stops in her tracks. She asks, “What are you doing?” He says, “It says 100% concentrate…” She walks away.
I selfishly hog my ride shares.
Ever hear someone’s laugh, and it sounds like they’re just learning how to do it?
I used to hate drinking water when I was younger. Wasn’t a fan at all. Turned it down at any and every opportunity. I thought that made me water resistant.
If you draw portraits of people at a Comic Con, does that make you a con artist? How about if you’re the family portraitist of the Kahn family?
I was riding with a friend who was having a hard time parking. She said, “I can’t park to save my life.” Ahem. I didn’t need her to park good enough to save her life. I need her to save mine. She can worry about her life later.
I got attacked by a sheepdog the other day. How come there isn’t a dogsheep, a sheep that wrangles up wayfaring dogs?
When people say that they don’t want to eat a certain type of food because they ate it very recently, what the hell? What? Is that food still digesting? Can your body not handle it? Do you have a 2-nights-in-a-row digestive-tract limit on Vietnamese pho, enchiladas, or cheese sticks?
Next Halloween, hand out colored hard-boiled eggs to the trick-or-treaters. If anyone gives you any static or lip, tell they asses that’s all you got left over from Easter. Then slam the door.
Auld Lang Syne
Parents, calm down with the pink and glitter when dressing your little girls. Please! Sometimes, I’ll see a child walking around looking like the lovechild of a disco ball and a pink highlighter or like a flamingo strutting in one of Liberace’s robes.
Californians love themselves some avocados. You put an avocado on anything and it immediately becomes Californian. Food, etc. That’s how you become a state resident. They give you an avocado and you hold it for 10 minutes.
It’s time for turducken. Aww yeah! But turducken’s ain’t nothing. A gastronomist in the early 19th century wrote about his rôti sans pareil. This “roast without equal” is “a bustard, stuffed with a turkey, a goose, a pheasant, a chicken, a duck, a guinea fowl, a teal, a woodcock, a partridge, a plover, a lapwing, a quail, a thrush, a lark, an ortolan bunting, and a garden warbler.” I think I was born too late.
Speaking of messiahs, how we know that the name Christy/Christie shouldn’t be pronounced as Cry-stee? Jesus Christy. Right? We could be doing it wrong, see? I’m nodding at your hesistant dismissal of my theory. Got in your head now.
News organizations have to retire the phrase “breaking news.” It’s used way to often. It doesn’t mean anything anymore. It’s lost its shock value. Going forward, “breaking news” should only be used if a comet breaks the sound barrier as it speeds.toward Earth, a person with no ass miraculously breaks wind, or the messiah comes down to break bread with Santa Claus, Michael Jordan, and Michael B. Jordan.
I know someone who was pulled over by cops and with the following: 1) weed with no medicinal license, 2) a license plate that expired 11 months earlier, 3) no car insurance, and 4) a suspended driver’s license. No arrest.
Unforgiveness is like swallowing poison and expecting the other person to die. –Unknown
Peruvian parents are known to wash their lying kids’ mouths out with llama spit.
Within a one-mile radius of my place, there are 8 Starbucks, 6 Coffee Beans, and at least 20 other Mom and Pop shops that serve coffee.
A man named John Stankey is the CEO of DirecTV, which may explain why I hear that DirecTV’s service stinks.
Real passage from a real article:
“Oh, I see. I might have brought it up. But not having to do with me, just I mean, the wind is a very deceiving thing. First of all, we don’t make the windmills in the United States. They’re made in Germany and Japan. They’re made out of massive amounts of steel, which goes into the atmosphere. The windmills kill birds and the windmills need massive subsidies.”
Trump ended his rant on the dangers posed by wind with the words, “I don’t care about anything having to do with anything having to do with anything other than the country.” You’d think that this quote is some sort of error, since it doesn’t make sense, but according to the Times that’s what Trump said.
Also from the article:
“The rest of Trump’s responses in the interview were comparably nonsensical. Amid his hallucinatory style of speech—which continually evades the respite of a complete sentence…”
“I believe in an America where millions of Americans believe in an America that’s the America millions of Americans believe in. That’s the America I love.” –Mitt Romney
“I’m not familiar precisely with exactly what I said but I stand by what I said whatever it was.” –Mitt Romney
People who run with their arms straight down are freaky and creepy.
There’s this dude on the train trying to look hard. He would’ve been successful in his attempt to look threatening if I didn’t hear, “I’m a motherfuckin’ starboy” coming from his headphones.
The grizzly bear on the CA state flag is extinct in CA. Think about that.
In 1921, the Congressional Committee on the Simplification of Paper Sizes debated about whether paper should be 8×10.5 or 8.5×11. For real.
If your dog is so small that when you put its poop in the doggie bag you can actually put the whole dog in the doggy bag too, then your dog isn’t a dog.
One of the worst things about the holidays is seeing folks trying to pay for holiday items with coupons from the last holiday. Enough to shoot yourself in face.
I’m going to open a grocery store in a black neighborhood and calling it Black Market.
The time between Christmas and New Year’s has a couple of names. Twixmas. It’s called Romjula in Norway. My favorite so far: Holiday Taint and Christmas Perineum.
Goldbrick
Bottle on bourbon on the table
Swirl it around, take a swig
Look at my reflection in the glass
Sexy brown liquid manna from the gods
Bottoms up, Tops down!
Scratch my head, Owww!
Scratched the top off a bump
That hurt.
Take off my glasses, clean them up
Look around the room
The clock hasn’t moved, c’mon, man!
Cramp in my neck, where’d that come from?
Rub it, still there, this sucks
Check my phone, no messages,
Text my friend, no answer
Call the family, no answer
Light bulb flickers, change the bulb
Ah, that should do it, almost blew it
Get up and wash dishes in the kitchen
Grab some pecans to snack on
Crack open a book, read a chapter
Or two or three
Spin the ring on my finger a few times
Beat-box, make some beats in my head
Check my phone again
Throw it across the room
Turn on the TV, turn it off
Turn off the computer, turn it on.
Check email, add to my Netflix queue
*Sniff* What’s that smell?
Take the trash out, trim my beard
Look out the window, people-watch
Sip some more bourbon
Try to think of something clever
Whatever. Try again.
Take a catnap on the broken couch
Go outside, walk around the block
Chat with the neighbor
Scratch my ass, I’m hungry
Get a bowl of cereal, brain food
Get another bowl of cereal, no shame
Check my bank account, need more loot
Check my –, bleh, never mind
I’m over it.
Not even sure what I was thinking
Gotta get my discipline back
But first, I’ll see what’s on TV
Again
A bunch of movies I’ve seen already
Oooh, some true crime stuff
Nah, turn it off, man
OK, grab my pad and pen
All right now.
I’ll write now.
Chickenshit
“You’re too chickenshit to do what you want.
You’re too chickenshit to do what’s right.
You’re too chickenshit to do what’s needed.
You’re too chickenshit to move forward.
You’re too chickenshit to go for that dream.
You’re too chickenshit to be better.
You’re too chickenshit to live for the moment.
You’re too chickenshit to be busy.
You’re too chickenshit to be real.
You’re too chickenshit to fail.
You’re too chickenshit to express yourself.
You’re too chickenshit to show love.
You’re too chickenshit to show that side of you.
You’re too chickenshit to get hurt. Too scared to get scarred.
You’re too chickenshit to see the writing on the wall.
You’re too chickenshit to read and ignore it.
You’re too chickenshit to work hard.
You’re too chickenshit to ruffle feathers.
You’re too chickenshit to own it.
You’re too chickenshit to look ahead.
You’re too chickenshit to forget the past.
You’re too chickenshit to be you.
You’re too chickenshit to stand up.
You’re too chickenshit to stand out.
You’re too chickenshit to try.”
Said the mirror.
Path of Least Resistance
Just found out that the new train route has train cars that were built in Japan in 1989. I’m routinely on a train car that was built around the time the Berlin Wall was torn down. Really feels weird riding on something that’s older than most of the people riding it.
With the completion of the latest train line, I now have about a dozen ways to get to work. While each of these routes have their pros and cons, one route stands apart from the rest. I call it the Polar Route, or the POLR Route. POLR stands for Path Of Least Resistance. It’s the route that has the least amount of creeps, shady people, and sexual deviants.
This guy behind me just coughed on my ear. It feels like it has the flu now.
Slogan of the week: Louisville Vegan Jerky’s “Keep it fake!”
It’s not ghostwriting if we all know your name.
I’m optimistic that I’ll be pessimistic.
Forgot that they mail drivers licenses to you now. So ironic how back in the day, when licenses were laminated, you would get them that same day. Nowadays, when the cards are all digitized and high-tech, you get it by snail mail.
Children are assholes. They are selfish, greedy, vindictive, and opportunistic. They are beautifully accurate microcosms of the adult human psyche and behavioral tendencies. At its core, humanity is not very humane. With that said, seeing babies with fat cheeks makes me forget everything I just wrote.
Asians get a bad rep for bootlegging American products, yet America has been making remakes and adaptations of Asian movies and stories for years. Asia should crack down on American copycats the same way America clamps down on iPhone bootleggers.
Someone launched an explosion of diarrhea against the side of the wall of the local post office. Definitely a special, overnight delivery. It also had me thinking of the slogan of UPS, “What can brown do for you?”
Where did the term “piggyback” come from? Never have I seen a pig on anything’s back nor have I seen anything on a pig’s back.
And where did the term “greenback” come from? Dollars are green on the front and back. I’m pretty sure that most people look at the front of a dollar bill than the back of it. We should be call ’em “greenfront.” Or “greenallovers.”
Before-and-after photos are a standard in the weight loss industry. A third photo should be added: What-You-Like-Right-Now photos. After you’ve lost the weight, you should be required to submit a photo 3 to 6 months later. More than likely, it’ll look like your “before” pic went on an eating binge. Truth.
Adrian’s Aria
Forgive me.
I’ve been dismissive of writing you this missive for a while.
But I found my voice, through a lot of error and even more trial.
This song’s for you. My voice is a bit rusty.
It’s almost been a decade since the day that you passed
Can’t believe how time has flown, but the memories will last
The family misses you dearly, we think of you every day
We all struggle with our lost, we express it every way
I struggle to accept, to come to terms that you’re not here
Saying my name wrong, learning to walk, falling on your rear
From the time you were born, you stole hearts, straight-up robbery
With a 10-year age gap, I wondered if we’d ever have camaraderie
Mama brought you home, there was so much love displayed
For the boy with big almond eyes and a naturally curly high-top fade
Remember when I would pick you up and whisk you around the house?
“Flying Baby,” I called it. Giggling ’til a little drool came out your mouth.
I used to recite Gangstarr’s “DWYCK” and you and Dre would lose your minds.
I’d cross my eyes, say “Shaq Fu,” chase you all over ’til it was dinnertime.
Sometimes, I disliked that you were the baby ’cause everyone spoiled you
I didn’t want you to become a brat, a pain in the ass, royal
You were the only kid I knew who absolutely loved school
Such a passion for knowledge, so much respect for elders and rules
Never wanted to fight anyone, just wanted to make friends
When I felt I was slipping, I’d look to your example to amend
My actions. I know I’m the oldest but I’ve never been perfect
Just did the best I could, hoping that in the end, it’d be worth it
The older you got, the close you and I became
The maturity gap closed as the age gap remained the same
Then just like that, it was Christmas Day, we were all in Chapel Hill
Wondering what the hell happened, the pain we still feel
The day you were diagnosed with cancer made it the family’s worst year
Everyone was trying to be strong while fighting back fear
You remained positive, with those eyes so bright
OFFERING US words of encouragement while showing those pearly whites
I tried to stay strong, Adrian, baby brother, I tried
Reversing my tears’ flow, forcing them to fall on the inside
The entire family prayed in unison for 349 days straight
Prayer of Jabez and anything else that could bring you a positive fate
Well into 2006, we kept the faith while the doctors worked tirelessly
Saw you in September, standing tall and strong like a cypress tree
I was at my new job, learning the ropes, sitting all alone
When I heard a series of buzzes coming from my phone
I picked it up, saw it was our sister calling from the Eastern time zone
Told her hey and asked what was up, Tasha said, “You need to come home.”
At first, I told her I could get home on the weekend, since I was still at work
Had a few things to wrap up, then told her I was glad my new boss wasn’t a jerk
She suggested that I come home now, so I jumped on the next thing smoking
In hindsight, I missed the seriousness and thought she was kinda joking
And I was in strong denial, for she was telling me everything by saying nothing much
That flight was the longest of my life, my mind was somewhere else, losing touch,
The car ride home from the airport was surreal and pretty eerie
I remember cracking jokes to my cousins, but nobody would hear me
It wasn’t until I got home when everything completely hit me
It was all in slow motion, vision blurred, hazy, I walked gently
Hugged Mama at the door, still talking a mile a minute
But when I saw the funeral guestbook near the wall, I felt the world without you in it
I fell to the floor, wailing like a wounded soldier in a war
For at the moment, a bullet hit my heart, I couldn’t feel any more.
The family tried to console me, but they were in their own suffering
They had seen your body deteriorate when it was supposed to be recovering
It really hit me hard. I didn’t eat for days after that.
A zombie in every sense, I was in a daze after that.
I’ve always felt bad because I wasn’t there, the self-hate is immense
I was 3,000 miles away while you were battling that senseless
Disease. Even though, you were the biggest supporter of this westward endeavor
I can never forgive myself for not being there, not a chance ever
As your brother, I should’ve been there to protect you
You would ask me, “How’s LA?” I was amazed that you would select to
Focus on me in our conversations and communications
While you were hooked up to IV’s and getting treatments of radiation
I’m sorry for not being the best big brother you deserved
I should’ve been braver, but I didn’t have the nerve
I’m sorry that you had to go through so much anguish
If I were stronger, that pain I could’ve helped you extinguish.
I’m sorry when you were a baby, I didn’t hold you tighter in my arms
I would’ve shielded you from danger and all bodily harm
I’m sorry that you didn’t make it to your high school graduation
Your class honored you like nothing I’ve ever seen, so much admiration
I wish you could’ve seen your funeral, but I’m sure you saw it from above
The whole damn town showed up, a testament to all the love
Grandma touched your hand in the casket and said, “I’ll be with you soon.”
Exactly six months later, we were all together again, crying at her tomb.
I’m sorry for not telling you how much I loved you when you were alive
My faults I now improve, to be a better man, I strive
Please forgive me for things I can’t understand or fall into the creases
My friend calls it Survivor’s Remorse, I call it Picking Up the Pieces
Again, our parents and siblings all dearly miss you and remember
The world isn’t the same since you left us that December
And I will sing about you forever.
And I will sing about you forever.
And I will sing about you forever.
And I will sing about you forever.
It’s taken me 10 years to realize the lesson your entire life would give
The whole time we were trying to keep you alive, you were teaching us how to live.
Think Ink|Thinq Inq 