The musings of a madman...

       Weird things happening nowadays... One would think that I am NOT the one to be asking for serious advice, especially after reading the shenanigous outcomes I tend to prefer. Despite that, here we are. I've been busy with yard work and Tiny Little™ , so "outside" is not something I've particularly been able to participate in, so while she was napping, I opened up the good ol email. "Moe, I'm considering marrying my girlfriend but as much as I love her, I'm still not comfortable that she is the one. Is there anything I could do to know for sure before throwing years of my life away to a poor decision?"      Now... Pragmatically thinking, I would explain to him that if he gotta ASK then he already knows he probably don't trust her and should not move forward. But if I answered with just that, this story would end with the period at the end of this sentence. Instead, I responded and asked for his phone number to ask some more detailed questi...

       So we’re sitting in the living room eating dinner and watching Jeopardy when the alarm panel and both of our phones chime with the doorbell.  I get up expecting to tell the kids across the street that my daughter is with her mother this week.  It is a white man… “Are you lost?  How can I help you?” I ask through the slightly parted screen door. He hands me a manila envelope and says “you’ve been served” before walking down off of my front porch as I stood aghast.      Wife person looking on asks me what is going on.  I sit back down on the loveseat and open the folder. Me: “We’re being sued…” Wife Person™: “What!?”   Me: “Not you.” Wife Person™: “What the hell are you talking about?”   Me: “Me and Moe.”   …  well I’mma explain this shit to y’all now, same as I am to my wife…      Of late, I have been trying to reform Moe Phillips’ public image.  After s...

       It’s rare that I just get to be “me” anymore.   My life is pretty mundane to be honest.   Work, clean, daddy/husband, sobriety…   Rinse/repeat.   I find myself in need of an outlet, sometimes to the point where I seek mischief to entertain myself.   Not unlike a puppy learning to test your limits.      Sometimes the “mischief” finds me.   Sometimes even still, the mischief finds me from prior shit.   We’ll call that the wheel of mischief .      Moe fuckin’ Phillips…   That guy will be the death of me one of these days. I’m minding my business on my couch on lunch three weeks ago and “Moe’s” burner phone rings… [ Phlip note : I dunno WHY the hell I keep that thing ] Me: “Hello?” Caller: “Is this Moe?” Me: “Indeed it is” Caller: “I got your number from a friend of mine who says you have given sage business advice--…” Me: “I wouldn’t call the advice ‘sage’ so muc...

       I’m good at things… As vague as that may sound, I say it like that to say that no matter how good I may so happen to be at a bunch of things out in the real world, I hate – HATE – for my horn to be publicly tooted over it.   That goes for work, home, anywhere really.   That may seem counterproductive come review time at work, but my manager is well aware of this about me and we have a few aliases I jokingly use when I get to work and kill shit. That’s professionally; as in the shit that pays the bills.   Not having people going around talking about me in a manner that would have onlookers look for a chance to pile more of their shit on me is the name of the game.   Personally, it is totally different but basically the same.   When I clock out and come back across this living room, the last thing I want is for someone to make assumptions with my time because some third party informed me I was capable.   There is a space of...

       Life is funny… Everyone – including my own wife – knows I could give a dry fuck about Valentine’s Day.   Not even to bore you to tears with the norm of ultra-wokeness about pagan holidays, not needing one day out the year to show love or whatever else people sell themselves as “reasons” to not be into it.   I mean, I don’t mind going out to dinner or to whatever level of the world outside of my house that is open during these cold cold Rona days.   I just don’t like the concept of having to deal with crowds and people to do so, and that has been the case since long before Rona made it cool to assault people for getting too fucking close to you.      After my previous attempt to offer dating advice, then documenting it , I would think that no one would contact me for shit on the subject ever again. I mean that would make for a reasonable populace, no?   Well if anything about the past 11 months and especially th...

     How the shit do these people find me? [ Phlip note : I know my email, FB, Twitter, Paypal and website handle are all the same…  it was a rhetorical question] Minding my own damn business on a seasonably warm November afternoon.  Looking busy working on a project, waiting on SOMETHING to stem the tide of a series of bad newses. I get an email… References: [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ] I was kind of concerned about how I could carry this one for her.  I had some questions that might help me to my decision…      Does this house have a garage? Yes      Does this guy have a car? Yes      Do you still at least hang out outside the house from time to time? Yes      Do you drink? No      Does HE drink? Yes      Would it be a far stretch for you to go out and he get drunk and you ...

I am beginning to think that True Story© is beginning to ruin my fucking life… Chilling at work on Monday, minding my own business, I gets an email: Fuck My Existence Well I guess it stands to reason that I have BAKED this damn cake, so it is totally on me to frost the sumbitch. We shot some back-and-forth around and he was clear that he was not willing to approach ANY of the holidays with this woman, that he had taken Wednesday off and that would be when he wanted to complete this whole thing.      Well shit on me, I guess I got no time for setup. After work Tuesday, I sat down at the computer and planned and plotted and daydreamed just how I could bail this man out of a VERY shitty situation. At least the kid was not hers and would not have a lot invested in them breaking up.  I mean, it only makes sense that a kid – especially a boy child – is not going to be there for someone disrespecting his father when that father is actual...

     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...