The musings of a madman...

     I've been away for a few weeks. No it was not planned. No I will not be explaining publicly, if you know you know.      While on the shelf, I had a lot of time to think about my next moves. I mean, I was only off work one week, plus one day each for the holidays, but this also coincides with the slow season at work so yeah... a lot of time. Sometimes during the day, I'll have the TV on ESPN for noise until "noise" includes a certain blowhard whose name I will not--... Screamin' A Smith. I change the channel when I hear his voice. Anyway... ESPN. They partner with the Make-A-Wish Foundation and apparently John Cena to make sick kids dreams come true and then put it on TV to let sponsors and advertisers foot the bill while they write it off on their own taxes. Wild, but wholly American.      So I has this idea... If you think I'mma fake an illness or borrow a kid to fake an illness in order to get a chance to be in the same room a...

       I had told myself I wasn’t doing this shit again, really I tried… After that last time , I NEEDED not try this shit again!      My problem is that I can’t idly sit by and do nothing when pressed with a problem I can fix, especially when I can do so without necessarily getting my hands dirty. That said, I'm home trying to lay low after the last weeks’ Vegas adventures – mainly trying not to further draw the ire of Wife Person™ – minding my own damn business when I get an email to the Moe Phillips account… “Moe, I come to you with this because I am really not sure who else I could approach with this. I was recently employed at a small family restaurant where the money and tips were good enough for my lifestyle until a family member needed some financial help and put me and mine in a bit of a bind. I asked the owner if it would be possible to get some more hours to make up what my mother and I had had to lay out to help out and his response wa...

[Pt. I can be reached  here ] [Pt. II can be reached  here ] [Pt. III can be reached  here ] [Pt. IV can be reached here ]      Denim… The answer has been denim this whole time.      While we wait on the victims marks to sort this out for themselves, I will explain to you, dear readers by peeling back the options I gave to them. Fuel - too new, too far west in the city to truly have been on the ground floor of what built Greensboro. The Greensboro terminals are f’sho the conduit from the gulf states to areas north of here, but how long has America had this apparent lust for fossil fuels compared to… Tobacco - we’re getting closer now… There are still some small farms in the east of the county that grow it, but I see more solar farms out there than I do tobacco nowadays. Furthermore, Lorillard is no longer a thing and ITG aren't making Newports over in East Greensboro which removed a worldwide-known boon from what could be bragged – if...

       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...

   [Pt. I can be reached  here ] [Pt. II can be reached  here ] [Pt. III can be reached here ] Kenneth: “Bro, I know you from somewhere?” Joseph: “I’on think so, but you look real familiar, like I seen you before.” Kenneth: “Maybe we used to work together or somethin’?” Joseph: “Nah, I always worked in my pops family business.” Kenneth: “I just know I have seen you somewhere or another, I just can’t put my finger on it.” Joseph: “Yeah, this is wild, bro.” Kenneth: “Wait, here comes somebody else.” From the walkway through the trees comes a third individual and this weird “are you my daddy?” exchange continues. Joseph: “Well damn, this dude looks familiar too.” Kenneth: “Weird.” Joseph (to the newcomer): “What’s good, bruh?” Chucky: “What’s up? I saw you before, up on MLK at the–…” Joseph: “... THE SCAVENGER HUNT! That’s it!” Kenneth: “That’s it! He was leaving when you got to the–… uhh… the car and–…” Joseph: “I was leaving when you got there, got it!” Kenneth:...

   [Pt. I can be reached  here ] [Pt. II can be reached  here ]      A bait car… After ALL the shit I lined up to excite these people into participating in my little game, a matriarch-fornicating BAIT CAR?!!?      When I left you, a complete creative brain fart caused me to latch onto the first thing to grab and hold my attention in a manner that I felt could be effectively used.  So frantic was I to get some shit in action that I didn’t consider the fact that I was in the damned ‘hood and that cops might be looking for whatever opportunity they could find – or, as it were, CREATE – to “protect and serve” the community.      First thing’s first…  My perpetual thumb-on-the-scale approach to making sure my chosen few make it to the finale worked like a charm.  They were not the first there. In fact they were fourth, fifth and sixth if I am to believe the order in which I received their responses.   ...

   [Pt. I can be reached here ] Welcome back…      When I left you, I had 15 unsuspecting individuals pining for a prize that only three of them have a chance at and NONE know exactly what the fuck they’re even competing for. I would use the words “I don’t know how I pulled this off,” but I explained in great detail approximately one month ago EXACTLY how I did that. Anyway… Anyone with a modicum of ability in Google or a mildly working knowledge of Greensboro history knew the answer was 'OLD L. Richardson' hospital on the corner of Benbow Rd and Washington St. A walk downtown Greensboro would suffice to answer this as well from approximately two miles from the location.      My three marks seemed to have no issues either finding or already knowing the information, and had no issues getting to the location for the photographic proof that I demanded. I will not share THEIR pictures because reasons, but I will share a photo that I took of i...

     I tend to try to mind my own damned business most of the time. My brain, however, is a BUSY place and a torturous situation comes from when I am forced against my will to re-litigate old cases. Worry not, nothing happening here has been discussed in previous stories. Anyways… When I run back down memory lane sometimes I get NEW mad all over again, sometimes as pissed as one might get when the misdeed is actively transpiring.      When I get pissed or anxious, I try to make myself busy. I do this to quell the “noise” in my head. Not noise as in literal sound, but as in the cacophony of shit in my head that in a past lifetime would drive me fucking nuts until I drank myself to sleep. Needless to say, I have unlearned that habit. Nowadays I write, I exercise until my knees and hips make me stop, I clean house, I think about writing while I am working out or cleaning, I research and plan lawn care, I do WHATEVER I can to combat the noise. To quot...