The musings of a madman...

       Anyone else’s Instagram reels feed just up and decided that your eternal damnation was your own damned problem? Conversations between myself, Mr. Ssippi and Alabama Jay over the last two weeks have informed that I am not alone in this.      At the beginning of July my Insta reels feed was simple and easily in line with things that interest me; dogs, lawn striping videos, car content, and the occasional impossibly huge titties . Without linking to anything specific – unless you’ve recently received a text from me about this – let’s just say that one day I clicked on a video and noticed that it had a TON of comments on it. The immaturity in me found the conversation fucking HILARIOUS, but the intelligent in me knew that they were some fucked up comments. Later on that same day, I’m scrolling and thinking to myself “sure is a lot of Down’s Syndrome in these reels” and quickly followed that with “why are there so many damn comments on all of these?” [ Phlip note: don’t judge m

  I am no longer allowed to enter the hardware store nearest my house… “Why?” you ask? Well it has a great deal to do with the fact that my idle hands are often, in fact, the devil’s playground.  We will make that sentence make sense in a little while, but first we gotta explain that I get A LOT of time off of work every year and I have to use it or lose it.  We’ve discussed this and what I often do with that time before.  What is only apparent to people who are connected to me either very personally or on FaceBook is that every summer I take what I have come to call “birthcation,” wherein I do not work my full time job at all on the week of my birthday. July 1rd was my 45st birthday ($callmephlip if you’re still feeling residually gifty, I celebrate all month) and I was naturally scheduled off of work-work the whole week.  Rather than spend big money GOING anywhere, I used the time to relax and work on some household projects in between my random acts of extreme laziness and n

  It went up for sale, y’all… For all my meticulous calculation in the use of what I inferred was abandoned historical property ripe for my use, the sumbitch went up for sale IMMEDIATELY when I was done with it. Wait… I hope you remember what I am talking about , as it has only been like six weeks. I have made a point of NOT going the direction of the factory since my felonious actions in May, moreso about not being seen and corroborated in any upcoming discussion of what happened that day with any applicable authorities. I’m just glad Woodpenis has gone federal and is likely no longer interested in what me and my bullshit can do for him. If you’re new here, welcome… If you’ve been here before, you know my phone is about to ring… It’s a 336-370 number and since school is out for summer, I know it is not my wife or my daughter's school.  Likely someone downtown for something or another. Me: “Hello?” Caller: “Hi, good afternoon.  Is this Phillip?” Me: “Depends on who is aski