The musings of a madman...

       Despite roughly a year of shooting my shot, I am unfortunately still not rich…      The closest I have come was with my crypto bets, which if I had trusted more at the time, would have been more lucrative.  Who can forget when I was curb serving the city all the available Plan B back at Valentine's Day?  Beyond that, my lawn hustle is doing me pretty well. Live and learn, I know. I have been accosted by several police officers over the course of the ‘Rona year and I can only be thankful that the wife person was around to talk me out of an arrest or – more likely – roadside execution.      It’s been fun though.   I have been places (sort of) and met people (from six feet away) and somehow have come off with more money than I might have under other conditions.   Wait…   “somehow”?   There is no mystery involved.   I work from home, I am buying literally a third of the gas...

  “I finally got on the list and scheduled my Covid vaccine.   My appointment is later on this afternoon. Needles never bothered me, I take my shots like a big boy, but I really can’t help but be a LITTLE bit worried… Will they give me the 5G version of the vaccine? Will they give me the Bill Gates mind control version? Will they inject me with the gay gene? Will they give me a Black Eugenics shot disguised as a Covid Vaccine and then blame it on ‘side effects’ later on down the road? Will one of the yet-unknown side effects down the line be superpowers? Sheeeeit…   That would be kind of cool, now that I think about it.   What if I got x-ray vision and could use that to get into bank safes and peer through walls to steal peoples’ information to come back around and log into the bank systems and blank out everyone’s mortgage and student loans, then delete the backups as well? What if I got superhuman speed and strength?   I would set up an online stre...

       I will be 42 in about 3½ months… I look back to things I did twenty years ago and shake my head so hard that my neck hurts.   It was legitimately NOTHING to get off work at 11 (or 1am), bolt home and wash the day off my ass and head back out until 4am, then reemerge at 7:30 in time for class to turn and do it all again.   Day of the week bedamned.   If it was a “thong contest” ( ß yes, those were a thing in REGULAR clubs) on a Tuesday, me and the squad were there.   Party promoter needed someone he knew would get the place moving on a random-ass Thursday?   He would call one of us. Needless to say, EVERY day between Tuesday and Saturday could easily become a party night until people started shooting INSIDE of clubs around 2003/04.      The only thing I miss about those days is the stamina it took to go to class from 8a-1:20p, work from 2-11 (or 4-1, or 2-3:30 and THEN 4-1 when overtime was cracking) and T...