The musings of a madman...

  It went up for sale, y’all… For all my meticulous calculation in the use of what I inferred was abandoned historical property ripe for my use, the sumbitch went up for sale IMMEDIATELY when I was done with it. Wait… I hope you remember what I am talking about , as it has only been like six weeks. I have made a point of NOT going the direction of the factory since my felonious actions in May, moreso about not being seen and corroborated in any upcoming discussion of what happened that day with any applicable authorities. I’m just glad Woodpenis has gone federal and is likely no longer interested in what me and my bullshit can do for him. If you’re new here, welcome… If you’ve been here before, you know my phone is about to ring… It’s a 336-370 number and since school is out for summer, I know it is not my wife or my daughter's school.  Likely someone downtown for something or another. Me: “Hello?” Caller: “Hi, good afternoon.  Is this Phillip?” Me: “Depends on who is aski

     I just be minding my motherfuckin’ business… I also, unfortunately, have this awful habit of making it my business to make other people’s lives less-than-enjoyable for my own entertainment. With that in mind, one can more than easily imagine how often some shit I have done comes back to bite me in the ass later on down the road.      Rewind back to October, when I made a crude attempt to pitch a gameshow wherein rappers would attempt to cook crack with the prize being that they get to CONTINUE recording. I called it the Wrist Twistin’ Kitchen . Not long after that failure, I received contact from Jiggaboo Jericho Jackson and as we all remember, hilarity ensued .      In my head, I am absolutely clear of any problems that might so happen to arise from my misguided attempt to get rich on the interwebs and I am now free to move on to my continued supervillainy normal life, right? RIGHT?!!? Wrong™!      Despite, per the rules of the gameshow, Jiggabo Jericho being the only one “