The musings of a madman...

       I’m good at things… As vague as that may sound, I say it like that to say that no matter how good I may so happen to be at a bunch of things out in the real world, I hate – HATE – for my horn to be publicly tooted over it.   That goes for work, home, anywhere really.   That may seem counterproductive come review time at work, but my manager is well aware of this about me and we have a few aliases I jokingly use when I get to work and kill shit. That’s professionally; as in the shit that pays the bills.   Not having people going around talking about me in a manner that would have onlookers look for a chance to pile more of their shit on me is the name of the game.   Personally, it is totally different but basically the same.   When I clock out and come back across this living room, the last thing I want is for someone to make assumptions with my time because some third party informed me I was capable.   There is a space of comfort in being able to remain nondescript.   Being

       I tend to make notoriously horrible financial decisions… It is a small miracle that I have been in this house for almost 12 years without my mortgage company coming to kick my door in as just rewards for my own stupidity.      As y’all may recall, I famously sank all of our liquid cash into a risky crypto bet just a couple of weeks ago.   As it stands, I have still made some money on that, but not enough to quit my job like some nerds on the internet said I would be able to.   I am pretty sure my wife hasn’t checked the joint account balance recently, but I sweat profusely every time she pulls her phone out and I cannot see her screen.      I need to make a comeup real soon… With some luck, I had sank money I (we) already had into to the Meme Crypto market, and my stimmy check HAPPENED to show up a couple of days later so I was not exactly “broke.”   Not yet at least. When, despite the egging along of the likes of Elon Musk, Snoop Doge and even a mention from Mark Cub

       Life is funny… Everyone – including my own wife – knows I could give a dry fuck about Valentine’s Day.   Not even to bore you to tears with the norm of ultra-wokeness about pagan holidays, not needing one day out the year to show love or whatever else people sell themselves as “reasons” to not be into it.   I mean, I don’t mind going out to dinner or to whatever level of the world outside of my house that is open during these cold cold Rona days.   I just don’t like the concept of having to deal with crowds and people to do so, and that has been the case since long before Rona made it cool to assault people for getting too fucking close to you.      After my previous attempt to offer dating advice, then documenting it , I would think that no one would contact me for shit on the subject ever again. I mean that would make for a reasonable populace, no?   Well if anything about the past 11 months and especially the last three have taught us, it is that there is no such a damn

       Nothing is original anymore… Let someone you know or follow on social media hit the lotto for a noticeable amount and half their friends list will run out and attempt to do the same. Let someone you know make a noticeable couple of bucks doing something THEY are decent at and some of their acquaintances will be on their heads to try it. I read a story once about where Avaya hired a guy and he decided not to take the job, but they continued to pay him as if he was there for quite a while [ link ] to the tune of over $450k.   At the time I worked across the parking lot from an Avaya facility and would spend almost the entire nine months I worked there applying to work at Avaya.  I am glad I failed in this, because he wound up in court over it.      So of course, we have all watched the news since last Wednesday where some folks over at Reddit decided to pool in and beat some hedge funds at their own game, right?    I will not explain how or why it worked here if you can go Go

       I don’t bother anybody. I drive a 2013 Subaru and live in a 1300 square foot house. I don’t have any flashy items and don’t spend money I don’t have on extraneous bullshit.      Why, then, was I--… WAIT      This all starts back in late September/early October.   Wife person had taken a shine to USING the thousands of dollars (I see the shipments, woman!) of essential oils that she had been collecting like Infinity Stones on aromatherapy products.   Bracelets, diffuser blends, etc…   Nothing terribly out of sorts, and she was clearing her money spent so I had nothing to worry with.   She was back in her office and quiet.      If anyone knows the “Phlip’s wife has a new hobby” dynamic, they know that once her obsession grows, Phlip doesn’t get to sit down.   Like ever . So now it is October 17 th , a Saturday.   I cooked chicken wings and got drunk, she raided the kitchen cabinets and went to her office to create.   I wake up Sunday morning.   I should have known so

       I’m a pretty unmistakable guy.   Even in public in a mask, people can usually tell who I am from sight distance.   My walk, my watch, my hair – even my beard poking out the sides and bottom of the mask.   Add the whimsy of the mask itself and people tend to recognize me when they see me out. Even when I wish I had been able to hide from them.      After the Rona scare where I was miraculously the only one who didn’t get it, we came to the family decision that of anyone was to venture out for sundries, I would be sacrificed the one to do it.   Still no wanton browsing, digging around in the mall for bullshit and my Hot Wheels searching field trips are usually baked into Wal Mart and Dollar General runs. This story isn’t directly about that…      Recently, on one of those early-morning – I had to learn to go to the grocery store at 7am when y’all started wilding over fucking toilet paper in April – runs to Food Lion down near the house for coffee creamer and toilet paper (

       For someone who really doesn’t like human beings very much, I sure do know a whole damn lot of people.   Or people know what I look like, I should say…      Respondent to my company’s generous leave time allowances and given the time none of us were able to take off last year, they also extended the rollover policy to allow us to not lose hours this year.   The problem behind that is now I have another year with the Rona to try and figure out how to burn like 39 paid days off working instead of 31 while still not really leaving the house.   This while also navigating 50/50 custody of my child and absolutely needing to be in this house while school is in session. Needless to say, I don’t get out much.   But I do take a lot of Mondays and/or Fridays off in order to enjoy three-day weekends and engage in my good ol shenanigous dipshittery.      One such instance, I decided among myselves that I would test a theory and see if hitchhiking was still a thing in 2021, especially d

     I don’t know if y’all noticed, but I been away since Christmas Eve.  Consistent output every Thursday morning at 7:30am with the exception of a reset week I took in October. One could assign my disappearance to it being SATURDAY before I noticed that last Thursday was Thursday.  That would be too easy an explanation though.      In fact, that would be too convenient an explanation in a world where the randomest of shit happens to me every few damned days or so. …  so it is the Sunday after Christmas.  I dropped my daughter off with her mother for the week.  I get a phone call, and y’all know I hate those with the burning passion that Mitch McConnell has for poor people. Me: “Uhh…  Hello?” Caller: “Gat-DAYUM, n**ga, don’t act so surprised to hear from me!” Me: “It’s just that your calls usually precede an adventure.” Marlon: “I know man, I’m legit sorry for that.” Me: “Wait, what was that?” Marlon: “What was what?” Me: “What did you just say.” Marlon: “C’mon, m