The musings of a madman...

True story©… For all of my age-37 obsession with all things titties, some might be shocked to learn that I was 19 or 20 before I EVER set foot in a strip club. I tend to forget which it was due to early 1998 through late 2001 being a 3.5-year blur. To be totally honest, the first one wasn’t even an actual real strip club, it was an after-hours kickback that a then-coworker took me to one night after work in a pool hall in High Point that had either just closed for the night or was recently driven out of business. Total fucking disaster now that I look back on it. I ain’t naming who I went with because he is on my friends list and married now. Anyway, we stopped to cash out for some singles on the way there and when we arrive I’m like “dude, this isn’t a strip club” and being older than me, he assures me we were where we intended to be. We get in and a couple of his homies are already there, already drinking, I am like “where the fuck did liquor come from?” and next thing I know there i

True story®… Backstory: I was born in 1979, which lined up my attendance of elementary school directly with the second half of the 80s. For those of us who attended gradeschool in the 80s, we were faced with a program called D.A.R.E. from 4th-8th grades, aimed at preventing kids from placing themselves in compromising situations as it related to narcotics. Dead ass in the middle of the War On Drugs at the time, they spent more time where I lived on street drugs that people who looked like us might develop an appetite for: heroin and crack. One fatal flaw of the program – at least where I lived – is that the cops they sent to our schools were somewhere between being poorly trained and being insultingly dishonest. One of my favorite lies they told us is that drug dealers were terrible people and that they actually SOUGHT kids out to give – yes, GIVE – drugs to in order to get them to try them and get them hooked on drugs. Before I continue my story, let me explain how deeply flawed this

True story©… She has a bathroom full of natural hair care products. All kinds of olive oil and shea butter and other things that look like she pays a lot for them to be shipped to the house and aren’t available in stores. Well one night my stomach was misbehaving and my phone was dead, so the only thing I could do to pass the time was to look at and smell the various things on the little shelf in front of the throne (yes, boredom is THAT bad in the mind of a supervillain). Moisturizers, double moisturizers, super triple moisturizers, coil activators, curl activators, shampoos, conditioners, comb-through conditioners, leave in conditioners, EVERY damn thing you could imagine. My mind immediately went back to the ‘curl activator’ thing. Without tipping anyone to what I was up to, I decided to see if it would be ANYTHING like I imagined it would be so I waited until I got to work to test the theory that it would give me the LOOK of a late 80s/early 90s Los Angeles rapper with none of the

True story ... I'm walking to my car from Wal Mart and a dude jumps out of a maroon GMC Safari and puts a 12gauge to my head... "Where the f*ck you think you going, n**ga?!!?" "c'mon, man, I am just trying to get home to my little girl" "Daughter? So I guess you got a woman somewhere around too, huh?" "What?" "BITCH n***ga, I axed [sic] you a question!" "Yeah!" "you love her?" "of course!" "call her on the phone right now and say 'I love you bae' right now!" "dude" *cocks shotgun* "d-d-did I stutter, motherf*cker?!" "but 'bae' seriously my dude?" "you heard me, unless you wanna die out here in front of all of these people!" ... forced with the prospect of my funeral and using the word "bae," I am here to inform you all that my funeral will be on Monday. My mom has been left with instructions to pay off the ho

True story time... What some of you might know of me is that I have a sometimes obsessive-to-addictive personality. When I get into shit, I get ALL the way into it. What you may not know is that my first job was at a Winn Dixie on the way up to 11th grade in 1995 (more on why that matters in a minute). So I was in the 10th grade before I ever saw the movie Scarface, and I was immediately hooked. Talking like the characters, remembering whole lines and dialogs, copying mannerisms, etc... now that I think back on it, it was probably pretty damned annoying. One Tuesday after school early in the year, my sister took me to the store to pick up my check before going off to work herself. Lord knows WHERE my brother was and mama was at her second job until later in the evening. I walked to the Conoco on MLK and bought all the Goodies and BC powders they had (brand didn't even matter for what I was doing with it). I pulled the big chair from the living room to the kitchen table and opened A

(image mercilessly curbed from Wikipedia) Lego Dimensions: the most brilliant video game/toy idea in YEARS.  (AKA "shut up and take my money!") Imagine you had the ability to play a video game tying a bespoke story involving characters from The Simpsons, DC Universe, Ghostbusters, The Lego Movie, Scooby Doo and 8 other franchises that Lego has licensing for currently ALL AT ONCE.  Imagine further that this particular game would be expandable by purchasing Lego toys.  Well stop imagining, because that is PRECISELY what this is. It is a concept they have referred to as "toys-to-life," wherein you buy the game in a "Starter Pack" which contains a ton of toys already, and then you add onto the game with subsequent toys, which you can immediately add to the game. You buy a "Fun Pack" and you get the physical toy set and the pieces in that set are added to the game, characters and vehicles.  Buy a "Team Pack" and it adds characte

My name is a Phillip, and I am a sneaker head…                 I did not come by this as honestly as many who I have observed have.  In fact, I may have created it for a WILDLY different set of reasons.  When my twin and I were 11, we left my pops and became a single parent household.  Even before this January day, we could basically be assured that at any given time there would be three pairs of shoes in our lives: 1 – “school” shoes:  this would be the newest and cleanest pair, re-upped only at the beginning of the school year and Christmas. 2 – “play” shoes: the most recently demoted shoes from “school shoes” status, provided there had not been a major growth spurt to bring on a change. 3 – “church” shoes: replaced ONLY at significant growth spurts and/or Easter.  Otherwise self-explanatory.                 Let me preface this by explaining that I have worn the same size shoe since the summer before I turned 16. As a kid, I learned to lowkey HATE that other kids got sh

A non-secret is that Jay-Z has money and a lot of it.  It is rumored that his net worth is more than that of a certain Willard Mittens Romney.  Incredible, as Romney got his on the back of a wealthy daddy helping to provide the best education money could provide and Shawn Carter is doing so without even a high school diploma to speak of.  Another non-secret or meme within the rap world is that those with money – even a little bit of it – walk around with it under their arms to use a metaphor.  “If you have it, show it” they say.  In exacting this, a theme that frequently gets pulled is “I ain’t even GOT to rap,” as if we didn’t already know that it was rap that got them there in the first place. Anyway, never mind that…  Today, we’re talking about Jay-Z and his new album.  After the past 18 years of his life in rap, it is established that he, in fact, DOESN’T have to rap – or probably even ever work again – and his great-grandchildren will die wealthy too.  In spite of that fa

"Curry Chicken Pizza Roll,"  yes I said those words in that order and you didn't wake up from a dream. Since the Bookface is trying hard to make me fat again with all the recipes and ideas people post all the time, sometimes I find myself in position to ape a recipe and turn it into something so different from what it started as that I need not even link what the inspiration was.  This is one of those times. Day One: For this, you will need: The star of today's show, the seasonings: Mix them together (quantities to be discussed below): Let the big spoon there be your guide: 2 heaping spoons of the curry and one small one of the cayenne (cayenne to taste, it is actually optional but I like my curry spicy).  A good hefty dash each of the lemon pepper, onion powder and garlic powder and a light dash of the nutmeg (nutmeg is assertive). Start a roux; enough oil to coat the bottom of a saucepan set to medium/hi heat, and when it is up to temp, two of the

This is something I came up with 6 weeks ago... I found myself faced with a fridge containing leftovers that I no longer wanted as they were at the time, but unwilling to throw out or give to the dog food that was still good.  I sat the Ava down in front of Yo Gabba Gabba and went to work. Started with some boneless/skinless chicken breasts I'd had on that Monday... And some cheesy coarse-mashed potatoes from that Wednesday... Now, addressing the chicken, make with the knifework and dice it up as fine as you can make it go... Line the cookie sheet with foil and (not pictured) hit it with the cooking spray... Panko bread crumbs and go ahead and put that oven on 400 now)... (not pictured) simply fold into and mix the chicken and potatoes together, add some cheese if you're feeling sporty and pat out into 2.5"x1" patties, then dip into the bread crumbs to cover completely hit the tops of them with that cooking spray one last time to aid in cr