The musings of a madman...

       When I was little, I was always stoked to spend time with my granddad… At surface-level, he would come home from work in the mornings and during the summer we would be at the house already while mom was at work. Before sleeping his day off, we would go with him to play tennis on the courts at the high school around the corner from his house. We would go to the park across the street and hit golf balls. On Sunday mornings, he would take us to this little greasy spoon diner for breakfast.      During all of these excursions, he would talk to my brother and I. We would learn whether the words coming were from a positive or a corrective place depending solely on whether he started with “son” or “boy,” respectively. One time when we were about twelve we were at the diner having breakfast almost as soon as he came home from work, as in he didn’t even bother with changing clothes, when he looked over his coffee cup and says “y’all make sure, more than anything, you take care of y

       You ever forget previous promises to make good on past transgressions? I promised back in the spring to make better use of Moe Phillips as a concept and citizen and damn near promptly forgot about that shit in a hailstorm of attempts to pay my mortgage off early among other things. [ Phlip note : Rocket is still getting their half-file every other week until I figure this shit out ] Well to be frank, life has gotten so weird since I fixed these blessed fingers to type those words that I straight-up forgot the promise. Or one could say that I HAD forgotten the promise until a couple of months ago, when I received an email on the “ask Moe for help” email address. (misspellings and grammar are assuredly not my own) “Moe,      My wifey n I are lookn for a 3rd to come into our bed wit us, but every time we try 2 mt up wit her or vid chat, she ghost us. She local, bt wnt mk way to see us nd see if it could wrk. We wonted 2 knw if u cld help us mt our new GF. Help pls!”      B