The musings of a madman...

     You know what, Phlip?  This is what the fuck you deserve.  You had three customers set to make you a million and a half dollars every six months, but you had to break all kinds of international laws and shit being greedy.      Oh wait!  I’m home, I’m safe and I have one month to figure out how to get my fucking bag back from those crazy-fuck European governmental gangster types.  I’m home, I am safe and I am sitting on enough cash on hand to not EVER have to work again in my life, considering that the only bills I have are “consumption” ones; utilities/food/etc…      But I am also fucking stupid… So here I am, in the FBI Field office trying to explain how I was robbed for a bag of coal by the government thugs of some small eastern European country that I could not name because I was not able to see out of the van I was riding in. Agent: “Okay, so help me understand the damages these people ...

Y’all remember my monkey, Ian? [link] What about now?      Well anyway…  When we left you in the discussion of Ian, he was at once a purchase that seemed like a good idea in theory but wound up being GODawful in application and came dangerously close to ruining my life to boot. Unable to recoup any of what he cost me, I angrily left him in the pet shop I got him from so he could AT LEAST be rehomed or some shit. About 9 months after the fact, still randomly thinking back to and stewing on the moments I blew buying a fucking monkey as a pet and not a Cane Corso like I wanted, my phone rings… Me: “Hello?” Caller: “What up, though.” Me: “Marlon, you ain’t from Detroit.” Marlon: “How you know that?” Me: “Because I have met your country-ass mama.  Y’all from south Virginia.  What’s the deal.” Marlon: “Shit, chillin man.  What you got going on this weekend?” The sound in his background was familiar, but there is always ...