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True Story©... Shot Shootin'

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       He came back, y'all… "Who?" you ask?      Y'all remember back in October when we accidentally turned on the living room TV and I had to go downstairs to turn it off and found an intruder in my living room? This motherfucker had the brazen gall to come back to my house! [ Phlip Note : FWIW, with an update to the Fire TV app, they added a power button and now I can power the TV off from anywhere my wifi reaches ]      This time, though, he was here in the daytime. I'm in the front yard last Wednesday working on one of my signature double-pattern-triple-pass cuts when an old beat up car pulls into my driveway and parks right next to the yard. Apart from me looking at ANYONE who doesn't know me (and most people who DO, for what it matters) sideways when they park in my driveway instead of on the street, it should be noted that I tend to move all cars to the opposite side of the driveway so I can properly turn the mower ...
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Ghetto-ass names; they're my birth control

I work in a place where I have to actually talk to people from doctors' offices. Often times, I see or hear people with names that cause me to HONESTLY question: what the fuck their parents were thinking when they saddled them with it? if said parents were even a MOMENT over the age of 16 when they named them? are fathers REALLY so pretentious as to need to name their DAUGHTERS after themselves? Enlisting the assistance of The Katie in the name of collection of the names as presented, as well as offering up a few of her own, I have compiled here a list of some of the most egregious of the names I have since come across... If you happen upon this list and find your name, don't take it personally... If you happen upon this list and you see the name of YOUR child, TAKE IT PERSONALLY and apologize to your children as soon as possible. If you've bestowed one of these names upon an as-yet unborn child, please rethink your strategy, use a different and STILL apologize to your chi...
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True Story©… Get What You Asked For

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       I spend a lot of my (semi-) adulthood running away from my childhood… … oh, and I will NOT be addressing my absence for the last month. IYKYK.      When I dropped by my barber two weeks ago, the first thing he asked was "damn, how many pairs of shoes do you HAVE!?"  as I was sitting down to receive my fade. I sat and calmly explained that my sneaker collection -- and yes, I wear my shit -- is a direct response to how we came up. We didn't have a lot, and 100% literally never got new release shoes, always the clearance ones or the ones that found their way to Marshalls, until I was a senior in High School and could buy my own shit.  Even then, I got a side eye for buying them. Sure, we had Nikes but not the ones everyone else had. More frustrating is that this happened in the golden era of the early 90s, so my interest in sneakers at that time was mostly as an outsider who couldn't afford to come inside.      That w...
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