The musings of a madman...

   [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: “So we’ve now esta

   [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.   Strangely enough, the back-to-back receipt of their responses would lead anyone paying at

   [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 it…      The rest of the 15 mos

     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 quote a good friend: “ADHD… It’s

       Man, I promised Santa Claus …      Is there anything more infuriating than being quite clear and succinct with someone, only to have them continue to respond to what they had in their minds that you would say and not what you actually did?      We closed on and moved into this house on October 20 rd and 23 th in 2021 respectively.  The in-between days involved some fuckery on the part of the seller’s agent that I will not rehash at this point.  As a good most of you know, 2021 was a WILD time in real estate in the middle of the Covid era and I happened to get lucky in making more than I expected on my old house and spending less than expected on the new one. One element of the above-mentioned agent is how she didn’t fully do her follow-through when it related to removing the damned listing when it closed.      Again, 2021 Covid-Era real estate had large companies cold calling home owners and making cash offers for slightly less – and then INCREDIBLY more – than they may g

       My laptop is next to my work-work computer for non-work “research” purposes and my desktop is out in my mancave next to the Playstation for music and fun purposes.   Both tend to have a tab open leading to my email inbox.      Like most of us, I tend to go weeks – MONTHS – at a time and rarely ever look at one folder in my email box.   Yes, that is the ever infamous spam folder. Of course, nothing of particular usefulness was there during the time of neglect.   Sure, a couple of messages that SHOULD have found one of my filtered inbox folders had eked to the junk mail folder, but the fact that I had not missed them basically served it that I could give a fuck less…      …   but I was bored. I clicked on a couple of emails and noticed that “Warren Edward Buffett” apparently uses a Gmail address that has nothing to do with his real name.   Not only that, he sends random people on the internet messages with opportunities to collect LIFE CHANGING amounts of money if only they

       Welcome back…   We present all new from a new address that a couple of you have visited and gotten fitshaced drunk with me.   The other 5 weeks of my residence have been spent re-learning this as “home” and working to pay the bills in this place.      We closed on 10/20 and 10/22 (dateS plural, you know only if you’re connected to both me and wife person on the BookFace) . In the weeks since, I have been painting, heavy lifting, shutting the fuck up working hard at being the best daddy I can be to Ava in spite of the efforts of my ex wife a woman I had a wedding with one time.      What also transpired in these intervening weeks was our anniversary (11/09) and the now-biannual Thanksgiving beach trip,   I might explain that the Biannual trip used to not have a prefix, but I didn’t have a married-into family who was alive and active until I married an actual wife in 2018.      For the past few years, we lived in a house I’d bought in 2009…   It was the only home that my d