The musings of a madman...

     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 “

       I don’t like going out in public… It isn’t so much that I am antisocial – well I kinda am, but I fuck with who I fuck with and that makes a huge difference – but I have also done an absolute lifetime's worth of fuckshit in the community as the two of you have read in these pages in just the past two years. One of my greatest fears is that I will be out with Wife Person™ and or my little one and something that they don’t know I have done comes face-to-face with me. Don’t tell THEM that, but that is partially why I am so reluctant to go out and be places.      … so I am in The Walmarks a couple of weeks ago, minding my own business, collecting things for the Superbowl party and I hear someone in the distance calling apparently for me… Voice: “S’cuse me. Aye man! AYE!!!” Me: “You talking to me?” Him: “Yeah, yeah man… Don’t I know you from somewhere?” Me: “I’on think I know you bro.” Him: “Yeah, ain’t yo name like–… Somethin’ weird, like Fap Fappington or something like