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Showing posts from May, 2017
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True Story© Supervillain vs. Supervillain

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I am a supervillain. A bearded, hefty, mean-ass supervillain whose short-term memory is terrible, but remembers EXCRUCIATING details of mundane shit that happened forever ago just to hold a grudge.  Shit, that is how I BECAME a supervillain.      After my accident in 2003 is when I basically decided to fully embrace my bearded supervillainy and I am to understand that this about when I grew to full inner/interstellar notoriety for my escapades. One day a couple of years in, I got a letter. “ Mr. Phillips, this contact is to offer our deepest appreciation for your contributions to the profession of being a supervillain.  We know the amount of stress and deep thought that goes into the making even the most mundane of plans, and as a token of our appreciation we would LOVE to have you at the Annual International Supervillain vs. Supervillain convention and competition.  We will send a courier with the official invite and registration form, containing all necessary cont
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Writing About Writing Vol 1

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I can’t draw very well. Likewise for painting. I ain’t much of a photographer or videographer. I suck with PhotoShop. I am pretty decent with a Digital Audio Workstation, but I am shy about my music. I write… I write a LOT (well, more than I had in the last five years). And to be totally honest with you, my handwriting is pretty shitty too! When I write, I like to think can I close my eyes and see the people and places that I am telling of in the stories.  I try to order my words in a manner that the two of you can see the people places and things I am talking about as well. I swear this gives everyone a different perspective of each story, everyone taking something different from it altogether.  Sometime that “something different” is far from what I even saw while writing. More than anything, though, these last 8ish months has shown me I can have fun with this again.  Sure, I am down to once a week with a little something here and there in between, but
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True Story© Psycho Therapy

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Indecision is my problem… I am often at a job and TOTALLY detesting what I am doing while being completely unsure of what it is I would RATHER be doing. [ Note: writing…  I would rather be writing and if you have been around since September 1st you know that]      Anyway, fuck these intro bars, let’s get right to work. One day last spring, I hit a fit of boredom and perused the craigslist want ads to see if there was the magic bullet of an employment opportunity there for me.  There was not.  What there WAS, however, was an abundance of people offering services for which they should PROBABLY be licensed and at the same time probably were not appropriately so. I had a plan.      I know a lot of people in need of professional help, and by “professional help,” I mean they need to see a fucking therapist.  What stands between this most times is most people are afraid to face their fears of their own reality, and the reality they fear most is that 99.98% of human be
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True Story© Contrapment

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Look, I know it isn’t an actual word.      In The Wire season three/episode 12, after two and two-thirds seasons of Herc and Carver picking him up and whooping his ass in the course of questionable arrests that never stuck, we find Preston “Bodie” Broadus in the clutches of Jimmy McNulty and Rhonda Pearlman after am arrest for selling drugs while in the protected area, dubbed "Hamsterdam." Those of you who know the show know that Hamsterdam was supposedly a free zone where no one was to be arrested for peddling their wares, as promised by law enforcement.  Based on that knowledge, to then turn and arrest someone for a situation you specifically set them up in is entrapment, but Bodie was a middle school dropout and that word became “contrapment” instead. Not bad thinking in the moment from the boy.      After my recent binge rewatch of The Wire, I noticed things I had not seen/remembered in my initial viewings, and one thing was how damn near everyone wh
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True Story© Lottery Ruined MY Life

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I think I have created a monster… I personally invited those who are reading from FB some came at suggestion of those who did.  I can see that people are reading but never know  who  is actually reading until I get a comment or an email.  Yes, I have gotten a few emails from people who want to come at me about something they have read.      We spoke previously of the advertising opportunity that I blew, if not there's a link located on the left. This one was new and more promising though.      If you will notice on the right, I have a PayPal “donate” link.  Funds from that would be properly used for establishing and maintaining a private website and publishing a novel I have written. Tied to that link is a PayPal account, which most adults who know would infer to be attached to a valid email address. One day I get an email. “Phlip. I hope this message finds you in good health.  I have sent the $1200 you need to self-publish your novel.  In response, I wan
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