1,053 Days

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"Cross that line..." a discussion

I presented my FaceBook friends -- all people I have either met or at least conversed with in some realish-world fashion with the exception of fan pages, by the way -- and some folks via email with the question of the day: "H ow far does a man allow a woman to take it before physically defending himself ?" I then settled in for the last 40 minutes of my work day and waited for the responses to roll in, just to see what folks had to say in response. Keep in mind, the responses you will find here do not represent those of the staff (me) here at " The Musings of a Madman... " but of the individuals quoted as having said them. Any individual named and quoted will be such with a link to their own blog if you would like the chance to read them and hug it out with them. Or argue the merits of their response... As usual, my opinion and response will be last. First response, as is custom with the question of the day, was former coworker, Dominik (female, happily married), ...
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Writing About Writing Vol 4

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“Voice” As I learned – or, more accurately, willed myself – to write, I used to hear/read things about “voice” in writing. As I look back over my old writing, I think I understand more clearly what was meant by "voice." [ Phlip note : I HATE some of my old work] What I have observed over the past year or so, though, I have watched my work evolve.  What started as a 150-300 word blurb on my FaceBook wall has grown to an every-Thursday event that both of you VERY much look forward to. The growth has come with some evolution in my presentation and not just with the addition of a leading picture to each of the posts.  I had to learn to structure them physically to help each reader make their own adventure of it. What does that even mean? It means that I use indentation to start certain paragraphs, and not in others.  The indentation is to begin a new though, the lack of it means I have not finished that last idea yet but need the separation that simply ...
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True Story©... Get Back on the Getback

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     I don’t forget shit… Let me rephrase that, I do forget a great many things, but I don’t forget things that matter a great deal to me.      In August, I told y’all about a job I had taken on helping a dude finally decide whether or not he should go through with marrying his girlfriend.  The work in said story was foiled by one of my mans named Marlon who basically, figuratively and literally fucked my money. [ Link , catch up and come back, you will need it if you do not remember]      Anyway, I am not as mad at Marl as I probably should be for how it went down because – as he so succinctly put it – her ass was absolutely stunning.  Besides, we been friends since middle school and I guess I should have known that he would probably fuck the girl first chance he got. Anyway…      Three weeks ago, Marlon calls me with a quandary… Marlon: “Phlip!” Me: “Whatup Marls?” Marl...
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