The musings of a madman...

(BACK UP OLD MAN!!!  Dad-Zone approved 3 feet, asshole!)      I will begin this by saying that if you don’t watch Game of Thrones or haven’t read the novels upon which it is based, I thank you for your visit to my site and would love for you to share with your friends, but you should probably go ahead and leave now. Now that we got that part out of the way…      Jorah Mormont of Game of Thrones has reached a Hall of Fame-level depth of friend-zonedness. See we know the actual, regular friend zone where a dude expresses interest in a woman and that interest is not reciprocated but instead of setting him and his feelings free to pursue someone who MIGHT reciprocate said interest, she tells him he is a “friend,” and keeps him around for the attention that friendship tends to come with. This is problematic in general because he is left thinking that access will eventually lead him to where he wanted to be in the first place.  Unfortunately, it is more like an unpaid inter

     While I am WILDLY guarded with my phone number, it has also not changed in almost 17 years, so people who had it in 2000-01 still have it.  What this tends to lead to in the days of smartphones is that a friend will get a new phone every once in a while and I get a text or phone call making sure it is still me connected to an otherwise unused (by them) phone number and then I won’t hear from them again until they clean up their phone again.      When I got home from Mexico in June, I got one such call from my dude Rob… *phone rings* Me: “yoooo…” Rob: “Yo…  Phlip?” Me: “Yeah, this me.  Whatup Bobby.” Rob: “Don’t start that shit again, ‘Phil’” Me: “Point taken, what’s good though?” Rob: “Not shit, just got this new phone and cleaning up the list.” Me: “Yeah, I haven’t endeavored any women crazy enough to need to change it.” Rob: “Heh.  Well I had another question though.” Me: “Yeah, what’s the deal?” Rob: “Well, more of a business opportunity.  You sti

     I make a point of not putting my picture, location, or naming where I work in these tales… Frankly, I know some of what I say is provocative, I happen to be a SEXY motherfucker and I really don’t need the general public to have that kind of access to me.  Contact methods can be found on the page and we can carry all media requests from there.  Don’t bother asking for money, because I happen to be broke.      So I am in Wal Mart last week picking up a couple of things for the household(s) and I get a tap on the shoulder from a young lady.  Apparently, a friend of hers had read my earlier post about helping the guy out of a shitty situation in that same store and shared with her timeline. As much as I appreciate you all sharing, sometimes I feel as if I am digging my own damned grave. Her: “H-…  Hi.  Your name’s Moe right?” Me: *looks for potential escape routes/murder weapons* “Um, yeah!” Her: “You sure?” Me: “Yeah, pretty sure.  Who’s asking?” Her: “A frie

You and me girl, we’ll be the next big thing. Plus her and her too, you can all be my queens. You cook, she cleans and the other can twerk. I’ll wait home patiently for you all to get home from work. Loyal sex is safe sex, you’re my only lovers. With only us four, we won’t need these rubbers. Join in this royalty and give me your loyalty. One king and three queens, you all can come spoil me. One household, three incomes, legacy is gold. We’ve all tried and failed with others and that shit just got old. Outsiders will hate our life, they’ll just never get it. The beautiful black family, they don’t want to be with it. When it comes time for the kids, our beautiful brown babies. I want them all at once, no ifs ands or maybes. I cannot legally marry you and give you all three rings. Well baby we ain’t Mormon and the laws are a thing. Besides who wants to take it there?  Lawyers and papers and such. And then comes the government and that’s jus

(Or do I?  Let me stop bullshitting...  I regret nothing!)      These days I am involving unwitting outsiders in my immature fuckeries…  It isn’t quite enough that I combat my social awkwardness and general disdain for human beings with wry and mean-spirited humor anymore.  Through all of the practice, I have apparently just gotten good at it.  Now I have to take it to a new level. One day we’re at the Asian buffet…      Another couple is there, both are reasonably able-bodied, yet she is not getting up from the table.  He gets up and brings her a plate of food, waits for her approval and then goes for his own.  Okay maybe he is just accommodating to his woman.  I can get that.  Maybe it is her birthday or perhaps she caught him cheating and he is trying to lick enough boot to not get kicked out the house or something. But I had an issue. A couple of times he came back with plates that she was clearly less than pleased with, and she made a point of making that ins

I think I have created a monster… I personally invited those who are reading from FB some came at suggestion of those who did.  I can see that people are reading but never know  who  is actually reading until I get a comment or an email.  Yes, I have gotten a few emails from people who want to come at me about something they have read.      We spoke previously of the advertising opportunity that I blew, if not there's a link located on the left. This one was new and more promising though.      If you will notice on the right, I have a PayPal “donate” link.  Funds from that would be properly used for establishing and maintaining a private website and publishing a novel I have written. Tied to that link is a PayPal account, which most adults who know would infer to be attached to a valid email address. One day I get an email. “Phlip. I hope this message finds you in good health.  I have sent the $1200 you need to self-publish your novel.  In response, I wan