The musings of a madman...

       I am beginning to feel like I am running low on options… My face is known in the community after my previous attempt at shaking things up using people’s short-sightedness for details. Detective Woodpenis is onto me and I can’t use the Moe Phillips name as a shield for criminal enterprise, lest he will perk up and show his face back at my house. I need something new to do,   here y’all!      For those among us who don’t follow me on The BookFace, you’re aware that I have re-created myself as a fitness douche of sorts sharing details of my workouts every weekday.   It started last summer in the form of my walks on my lunch break.   This summer, I have upped the game with longer walks and doing them at 5am while still throwing in a lunchtime one as well. This matters to the presentation due to where I live and what kind of people are outside between 5 and 7 in the morning.   There are people getting on and off of the bus going to first shift jobs or coming home from thir

       I was aiming low… WAIT!      First, let me welcome y’all back and advise that I was not kidnapped again this time. Instead, I was dealing with the fact that I kind of necessarily had to burn theMoe Phillips name to keep my real name out of real trouble.  I took a week not only to regroup, but to live-test a new method.      That’s right, y’all, I started a cult! At my advanced age, it makes little sense to attempt a full on career change that may involve any amount of time spent back in school, especially not when my normal full time job does well enough to handle my bills and gives great insurance benefits.  As has been mentioned before in these very pages, one of those benefits is generous amounts of off time commiserate with the amount of time I have been with the company.  I’d be a fuckin’ fool to blow that!      So anyway, a cult…  First off, I needed a point of interest that I knew would get people interested.  Politics is too toxic, social issues are too causti

       I daydream… I daydream a lot.  One might say my days are an ongoing daydreams with inconvenient breaks for reality.      One thing I like to daydream about is what I would do if I came into a stupid amount of money, think big lottery winnings level.  As I explained on The Ticket , there would have to be a certain amount made for me to quit my job even if I found a space to go into business for myself. Practicality would see me perhaps building an apartment complex and expanding, so as to leave my kids something when I am no longer here.  WILD thoughts include other erstwhile unrelated thoughts of things my friends and I used to do in our early adulthood. We’ll talk about that last one today… Back in olden times (circa 1999-2002ish), an average weekend might see me rarely home at a decent hour between Thursday and Sunday nights.  Living in a college town, ‘club nights’ would generally get to moving on Thursday nights, then we would go to a different spot on Friday.  On Sa

       Complicit innocence…  Or innocent complicity. Whatever, it’ll all make sense in a few minutes.        One of the things that keeps my marriage successful is the understanding that I WILL do stupid shit while in character as Moe Phillips, but at no point will I ever actually run afoul of my vows.  Also, it will ALWAYS be entertaining and will sometimes even be funny, even if only to me.  Sometimes the schemes will even scare up a few coins for us to spend on new sneakers or vacation or something else we enjoy.        All that said, I signed up for some dating sites as Moe last month.  Heavily filtered and edited images of myself were used, I took off my glasses and removed my beard digitally.  In next to no time the right-swiping commenced and believe it or not, my DM box was slid into.  Surprising, women weren’t this forward 10 years ago. The whole time, Wife Person™ had access to the account so as to be absolutely sure that all the real-life dealings were on the up-an

       I have been aiming too high.   We might call it the curse of American instant gratification. I have been aiming DIRECTLY at Big TV and Hollywood with my writing ideas and the barriers to participation on those stages is higher than others. Perhaps I should have been aiming for lower-hanging fruit, so to speak…  Like, do I REALLY need Hollywood when everyone is carrying around a camera capable of 4K video in their bag or pocket at all times?      The bar for participation in the adult film industry is as simple as starting an OnlyFans or setting up a creator account on a certain popular Adult Content site that I will not name in this sentence so as to not get this story flagged.   Basically you create your content, you agree to some terms and conditions, you monetize your account, you post your content and profit!      As a fatman who is married and not interested in being seen mid-coitus by anyone, none of you need be worried about seeing me in such a position. “So how d

       I’ve reached a pretty good spot in my life… We got this house in 2021.  I am pleased in my place of employment.  Two-income household.  Two healthy kids, three cars, three dogs.  Y’know, the American damn dream.      But like any other American, I want MORE.  Given my age and position in the world, a quick comeup is not the move nor is it easy.  At least not legally.  In the motions of moving, my credit score GREATLY increased, like to the point of a conventional mortgage not being a problem to acquire with underwriting.      I decided to buy a second house for--…  um, “supplemental income” reasons. Rather than contact our normal real estate agent, who we LOVE, I decided I would rather not involve her in what was about to happen.  I rode around after dropping the mini off at school and photographed the signs in front of houses so I would have the agents’ contact information when I got back home. I contacted eight agents via voicemail and email, and I waited.      Two d

       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 much as ‘damn near criminal’ but continue?” Caller: “Well I’m in a bit of a pickle and need--….” Me: “L