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Showing posts from 2017
1,117 Days

Old Beginnings...

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     Life is a weird thing… It is this dance of things that will inevitably happen to us, fought against how we will react to them. [Phlip note: isn’t it weird how we often use the word “inevitable,” but I have never heard the word “evitable” used in my 38years?] In 2015, I had some defeatable health issues that I spent the necessary time, money and medical attention addressing.  It took until the end of the yea to be cleared of it all.  2016, I rediscovered my pen--… err, keyboard and ran with it (more on that Friday).  I also got the clearance from my doctors from the above situation to resume vigorous physical activity. 2017 was my year.  Cleared for action and newly motivated to eat right and attempt to live forever, I started walking/running and eventually bought a bicycle to get my physique under control. And I threw off 40 pounds in 9 months. October, we consolidated households and life became easier still.  No back-and-fort...
1,118 Days
1,119 Days
1,120 Days

True Story©... The Heist

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     It is finally beginning to come together, it makes total sense now! First, we learned that Rudolph was a dope fiend.  Then we learned that Santa is a kingpin 364 days of the year and that Rudolph is basically a slave to his own damned dealer. But this shit gets deeper.        In addition to stewing for the past year on the revelation that Santa is an asshole scumbag dopeman, I also live with the fact that writing still COSTS me more than it makes me, I wake up every day and go work with people who do not share my drive and that often frustrates me. I was watching The Wire, and I had myself an idea.  Omar Little was kind of like the Robin Hood of the whole thing.  He was so against the dope dealers that he sustained himself ROBBING them.  That way, he padded his own pockets while preventing them from moving filth in the hood for profit. [ Phlip note : He also didn’t curse, but I possess no such fucking ha...
1,121 Days
1,122 Days

It's Christmas Night...

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     See-through Sunday…  On a Monday. 8:20pm is when my fingers hit the keys on this one.  I have been awake since 6, and even that was on only about 6 hours of sleep, with reasoning for which I can only blame myself.  I have no work tomorrow and could crash out RIGHT now, but I also don’t want to wake up at 3am, so I am pushing through it.      I moved into this house in August 2009 and closed on it 12 weeks later.  This is my 9 th Christmas under this roof, my 6 th one as a father.  Somehow this one feels different.  I spent it with both my existing and incoming families.  I woke up and had to wait on the babies – one of whom is actually 19 – to wake up so we can start opening gifts.  We made said babies breakfast, a tradition in my family.  I am at the age where it is not about what is in the boxes, but for the reaction of everyone else in the room when they open theirs.  The magic of t...
1,123 Days Dammit, Santa!  All I wanted for Christmas was a fucking impeachment!
1,124 Days
1,125 Days
1,126 Days
1,127 Days

True Story©... Santa's Day Job

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     Let’s be honest here, it’s 2017… Santa’s business model is about as feasible and sustainable as congress would have us to believe that trickle-down economics is.  That is to say, a fucking fairy tale.      Perhaps there was a time in history where “give all the kids in the world presents” was all fine and cool.  As Japan and China gadgetized the whole world, though, the cost of development and manufacturing became quite a weight on the fat man’s shoulders.  Bear in mind that he had to continue to pay for the sustenance of his elves and reindeer – not to mention  Rudolph’s rehab fees  – it only made sense that he would need to take on a day job of some sort for the other 364 days of the year if this is to work at all.      Back in the 4 th  century, the original Saint Nicholas would give gifts to the poor – especially poor girls so they could have something as a dowry and remain worthy...
1,128 Days
1,129 Days

Thank You, Kobe

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     We knew the day was coming.  We knew it April 2016 when he made his Swan Song in that 60-pt exit from the only full time job he will need to have had. I’m 38, and with the exception of a couple of bandwagon years with the Payton/Kemp-era Sonics, I have always been a Lakers fan.  After my Junior year in high school, there was a magazine and newspaper (no one was on the internet like that in 1996) buzz about a dude near Philadelphia who was looking at ACC schools but had since decided to skip it all and go straight to the league.      I was interested in it because the buzz was immediately “local” because the arrangement seemed from the beginning to be that the Charlotte Hornets – only about 90 minutes from me – would be the team to draft him with plans to trade him to the Lakers.  The interest was because the guy was only 10 months and some change older than me.  The interest was because it was becoming immediately ap...
1,130 Days

Pause and Eject--... No, Reset!

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     Aside from what is already in the queue scheduled, I am done with my postings for the year.      It has been a great year full of laughs, wonderful food, fun stories, funny raps from the so-called president and various other things.  The exercise of writing has been cathartic to me.  2018 will promise to bring more of the same.      This isn’t to say I won’t be WRITING during this last two weeks, just that I won’t be posting what I write until January. I’m tired, but I am tired from being tired, I am far from tired of writing.      My queue consists of Thursday and Sunday postings.  Tuesday and Wednesdays require last-days writing and a different process than I am willing to take time away from my family to leg out these holidays for right now.      See y’all January 1 st !
1,131 Days

React/Respond

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     The dog NEVER has a plan for when it actually catches the car. Think about that for a minute.      People tend to aim for a reaction out of people; something they can see, something that can be quantified.  They are not owed that but human nature seems to fuel the ego that causes one to seek it no less.  A reaction is emotional.  It is (usually) immediate, overblown and underthought.  It is a “rise,” as in “getting a rise out of someone.” It is giving the enemy (real or perceived) what they want.  Unfortunately, it is an mentally void behavior that apparently doesn’t disqualify one from the Presidency.  Many think it is a show of strength, something that shows off the preparedness to deal with a situation.  It isn’t.  It is an opportunity to show foolhardiness, usually a show of fear.      Respond, don’t react.  A “response” doesn’t have to be verbal or contain any a...
1,132 Days
1,133 Days

Donny Got Barz™ -- Alabama Aftermath

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     I knew he would pull some shit like this. In a week where he was unable to push a GOP senate candidate over the finish line in the reddest state on the planet despite coming dangerously close considering that man is also probably a pedophile, we knew he would be a bit pissed coming into what he has up next. I kept F5’ing his back-channel Twitter to see what we would get in response.  It seems we were only given 12 bars this week after a couple of weeks off.      It seems this man lives to blame anyone but himself or anyone whose position he agrees with. Roy Moore is Roy Moore’s problem.  He has openly longed for the days where slavery was a minor nuisance to the strongest time ever for American families, has pined to do away with very constitutional amendment after the 10 th and most famously HAS MORE THAN LIKELY TRIED TO FUCK CHILDREN! None of those are relevant to this situation.  The Democrats, the...
1,134 Days

True Story... Throwback Thursday

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     I am not “popular” but a lot of people seem to know who I am.  It is rare that I go out anywhere within an hour or so from my city that I don’t bump into SOMEONE I know.  Bear in mind for those of you who didn’t learn in elementary school that North and South Carolina are two different states, we do have paved roads and indoor plumbing here in NC and I live in the 68 th -largest city in the US.      Anyway… Back in November, Dollar General had Hot Wheels buy one get one free and I made a point of trying the stock in each of the 5 within five miles of my house.  On a random Friday morning I happened to have off burning up some time, I stopped into one of them and bumped into this girl I had some dealings with when I was 16 doing some before-school shopping with her apparently high school-age son.  I guess you could call it “puppy love,” but in 1995, she was a 'girlfriend' in my 16 year-old mind,...
1,135 Days
1,136 Days

Phood Phun with Phlip -- Egg Rolls; Keep the Rolls

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Low-Carb living… Sometimes you will come to things you’re used to having but can’t due to the vessel normally contained.  Egg rolls would be one of those things.  This doesn’t necessarily mean you can’t take advantage of everything that normally goes on the inside, just that now you need to be prepared to eat with a fork instead. Start with sautéing the fresh-grated ginger and garlic in the sesame oil: In with the bag of coleslaw: Once that is properly tender, you come in with the chicken: Now is also time to construct a bit of a sauce: Everyone in the pool, mix it all together and cook together, shredding the chicken in with everything else: Garnish with some green onions, sesame seeds and more sriracha because Phillip likes his food HOT, and serve:      Sometimes I feel we’re totally oversimplifying these things when we do them, but this is one of those things that i...
1,137 Days
1,138 Days

Just Spell My Name Right

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     I am not famous for a living. Shit, I am not famous for free. I guess you could venture as far as to say I am not famous at all.      There was a time in my younger days where I would legit get angry when people talked about me.  I really didn’t want the attention, mainly because it was usually negative.  Not that there is this aura of negative around me, but I watch people enough to know that when they’re discussing people and not places/things/ideas, then that conversation is very rarely positive. I learned, though, that you can’t stop ‘em from talking.  What you can, however, control is what they have to talk about.  It makes sense to me that if a motherfucker is trying to hang me, the last thing I want to give them is more rope. 1 – Don’t tell ANYONE everything you know.      Some shit ain’t for everybody.  Some shit ain’t for anybody.  If ever, these days I find myself at a...
1,140 Days
1,139 Days
1,141 Days

True Story©... Suicide is Painless

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     How the shit do these people find me? [ Phlip note : I know my email, FB, Twitter, Paypal and website handle are all the same…  it was a rhetorical question] Minding my own damn business on a seasonably warm November afternoon.  Looking busy working on a project, waiting on SOMETHING to stem the tide of a series of bad newses. I get an email… References: [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ] I was kind of concerned about how I could carry this one for her.  I had some questions that might help me to my decision…      Does this house have a garage? Yes      Does this guy have a car? Yes      Do you still at least hang out outside the house from time to time? Yes      Do you drink? No      Does HE drink? Yes      Would it be a far stretch for you to go out and he get drunk and you ...
1,142 Days

Hotep Heroes -- The Joseph Walter Jackson Memorial Black Father of the Year Award

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(wait…  Joe Jackson isn’t dead yet?  Well damn, is he like a little bit sick or something?  Oh well, carrying on!)      I think you see where I am going with this one.  Previous winners would include the likes of Earl Woods and Richard Williams. While the days of whooping your kids asses in order for you to live off of their success are gone, there still exists a world where you can push them to continue to do something they may or may not actually want to do to the point of extreme success, for which you will yourself be rewarded with a share of.      F’rinstance, no one exactly knows whether or not a young Eldrick Woods actually wanted to play golf, but his father – an old-school Black man raised through Jim Crow – pushed his son to be good at what was and still kind of is a white man’s game.  It worked to the point where he was the best to do it for a very long time.      On that s...
1,143 Days

Phood Phun with Phlip -- Jambalaya Love

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     Sometimes the best things come up in the last seconds of a planning session. It was Sunday, we had a post to make for Tuesday and we hadn’t even been to the damn grocery store yet.  This may or may not be because someone was couponing instead.   While in Sam’s getting our haul for the two weeks, the couponer in chief Mimi suggested a jambalaya, a comfort food we’ve all come to know and love just in time for the cooling weather outside.      Cool, something we all like, something DEAD simple to make.  Basically mixing everything in the pot and letting the flavors marry nicely. Wait…  I don’t eat pork.  She CAN’T eat shrimp.  We aren’t eating rice.  How in the blue hell are we going to pull this off?  Quite easily, actually.  Let’s get into it. 1 cup each green onion, green bell pepper 1 can, rotel 2 cups diced onions Meat from a rotisserie chicken, or about a pound of shredded chicken...