The musings of a madman...

     I don’t know if y’all noticed, but I been away since Christmas Eve.  Consistent output every Thursday morning at 7:30am with the exception of a reset week I took in October. One could assign my disappearance to it being SATURDAY before I noticed that last Thursday was Thursday.  That would be too easy an explanation though.      In fact, that would be too convenient an explanation in a world where the randomest of shit happens to me every few damned days or so. …  so it is the Sunday after Christmas.  I dropped my daughter off with her mother for the week.  I get a phone call, and y’all know I hate those with the burning passion that Mitch McConnell has for poor people. Me: “Uhh…  Hello?” Caller: “Gat-DAYUM, n**ga, don’t act so surprised to hear from me!” Me: “It’s just that your calls usually precede an adventure.” Marlon: “I know man, I’m legit sorry for that.” Me: “Wait, what was that?” Marlon: “What was what?” Me: “What did you just say.” Marlon: “C’mon, m

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 some random shit happening in his house

     Ian was my littlest buddy of all time… He was a 10-pound Grivet Monkey I convinced an exotics shop that shouldn’t have sold him to sell him to me. …  and he tried like hell to ruin my life.      Funny thing about monkeys, even little ones.  They are territorial little shits, even the little ones! I was basically not allowed to have company in my house when Ian’s cage was in a common area, or he would raise all grains of holy fucking hell until he was the center of attention.  Covering his cage didn’t help, and ignoring him with an exposed cage would serve it that he would ASSUREDLY fling shit in your direction.      I should have tried to train the little bastard to pitch for the Pirates, he had quite the arm!      Anyway…  As long as Ian was being played with and the center of attention, even outside of his cage, then he was all good.  One night I had a female supplicant to visit me.  Immediately upon walking in the house, she noticed Ian’s cage hanging in th

     Being mad and angry will sap the energy out of a person.  I don’t have a lot of that to spare, and none laying around just to be giving out and shit, so I tend to no let things get to me a lot of the time.  The beauty of staying cool under the heat is how that in itself is enough of a response to send whomever is acting out deeper into their rage.  Try it when you get bored.      Another thing I do is apply silly humor to an otherwise serious conversation if I feel it might head in a direction that might soon turn too ugly.  Mainly, this is done to make someone who did not want to be amused laugh at you anyway to diffuse a situation. Scene 1: Mimi: “Phillip…” Me: “Yes, dear?” Mimi: “I appreciate you cooking, but how, I mean how is there food on the CEILING?” Me: “My creativity is not the type to be easily contained.” Mimi: “Well can it be cleaned up after?  How come when I cook, I wash dishes but when you cook, I wash dishes?” Me: “…” Mimi: “Hello?”