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True Story©... Shot Shooting

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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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True Story... Batter Up!

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       As the two of you may (or probably not) remember, I bumped into a manager from  a company I had previously pulled my time-wasting job interview trick on and wound up getting offered a sham position in order to become eligible to play for their corporate softball league... I am providing passes for forgetting because October was ten months ago, so you can start with this here link and report back to this post to brush up.     Welcome back... Well as promised, I was contacted in late June with my check for seven stacks and a 1099 to file my taxes for an independent contractor position that only technically existed.  In this month and a half since then, I have still not stepped a toe on this company's property since LAST June.  Managing my lawn care schedule and my own work schedule with after-work softball practices and insisting the team meet on Sundays for batting cage visits, I was kind of fashioned as the team's de facto coach....
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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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