s*ck it

1. i feel your eyes on me even though your not around (that shit sounds creepy as fuck) i wonder if rape victims talk this way during group therapy.

2.we were at the bar, Neons, in Cincinnati, and they have an outdoor area where you can play bocce ball, bring your dog, and smoke cigarettes. we met this half pit half sharpei doggy name Mia. the owners copped her from a meth head who said they were getting rid of her cause they couldn't get her to fight. anyway, the dogs owner, named Forrest, is moving to Thailand in July and needs to find a good home for her. so i decided that i will be that guy. so we're gonna have another puppy in the house! yah!

3. my dude Cry Baby Genius just came on the I Tunes shuffle. its a song called posse cut, i think this is the one where he mentions us....i don't remember tho

4. i was forced to write this blog, but i need to do this more than once every 10 months...so i'm glad for the inspiration

ooooh baby when you cry, your face is momentary

1. in a house with a dog and a cat you have to be strategic with your catfood bowl placement. because lamont (dog) loves cat food, and he'll eat an entire bag if given the chance. so for our dear wendy's sake we have to put the cat food up high on a counter. but lamont has grown keen to this and figured out a way to fucking jump on top of the counter and still eat all of wendys food. so i now have to put her food in my room. this involves her getting fed once a day and sometimes involves her getting shut into my room. wendy has now taken to shitting and pissing in the corner of my room when she is let inside to eat her food. this is frustrating for a few reasons.....lamont already has taken over the basement as his new favorite place to shit and piss 1 to 2 times a day. so now our entire house has become a literal animal shithouse. fuck. i need a new house. one where the cat and dog are in separate areas of the house, completely cut off from each other. where wendy can go outside and roam free like the shit beast that she is.

2.our friend adam from detroit has been staying with us for the past week. adam is a gutter punk. this means he doesn't have a job, so to make money when he travels like a bum, he takes his guitar to high traffic areas and plays for tips. enough to get him a forty, rolling tobacco, and food for his doggie sheba who comes with him everywhere. i've always been jealous of adam and his no job having ass. since i've known him he's never had a job for more than a month yet he still ends up eating and drinking everyday. i guess when youre a gutter punk hobo, you can scrape by on other people...but how will this translate into our 4os? if the world is ending anyway i guess it doesn't matter too much, but what if we survive? i guess i'll be the proverbial "man" for now. save my partying for when im rich chillin in a benzo.

3. i love the beginning of Drake's song Best I Ever Had...he says "gotta dedicate this one to someone special (pause) you know who you are" ambiguity is crucial in dedications. so this one goes out to someone really effin special...you know who you are...haha

water blogging worked in guantanamo bay

1. new job= new house (backyard for Lamont, extra bedroom for annette), 2012 cadillac cts-v coupe (yeah the pimping one) and finally debt free (past debts, the debts on the house and car are not counted)

2.i really wrote this because the recent influx of the past into my life. upon reflection with a certain individual...finding past people via facebook is great, it makes high school reunions meaningless, it allows you to quietly stalk people from past instances and really dig into who they appear to be...now when it sucks....when you actually see these people again! now the katie challmers' of this world are the exception, no matter how fucking interesting your life is, i don't give a fuck about your over privileged ass, but everyone else man, you start asking what they're doing, job, married, kids. blah blah blah neither of you care that much, it gets kinda awkward, and you go back to your post human devices and quietly stalk from afar. this is it, this is all you get. this is why friends get recycled so much in my life, i can't stand people for very long or they can't stand me for very long. its evolution though, i accept it. but there are those people, maybe sexual encounters help the prolonged interest, maybe its the exceptional conversational skills..who knows, but there are those certain people you can pick up with no matter what. no matter how long its been, no matter where, no matter how short, because the comfort is there where with others its not, except for katie challmers' even though you made out with me at the Green Top bar and can go on and on for hours about quirky shit, i still don't like you...and for those people i salute you. you have given me a reason to continue my social network stalking, and making it easier to connect with you some time, some where, some how....

3.disclaimer: i have no association with the above picture. i just felt like posting the best juggalo picture i had on my computer. i hate icp, but man i love their marketing. just need to find my own gay niche to rap into. then i'll be rich. but what a smart target market. icp fans are poor white kids, with no money, therefore no internet, no kazaa, no nothing that ruined the sales for musicians. good stuff from that aspect.

4. i want to fuck you

Reading the past

I hate reading blogs from the past, even though I secretly love it the wistful teary eyed kindergarten baby that comes  out in me...what if this and what if that blah blah blah, but life moves on and the stupid choices were made and there aint no turning back. How many times have I thought about marriage? Seriously if I was married right now id be dead in a  gutter or in jail for domestic assault, I'm so bad with women because I am attracted to so many. How can I realize when I have someone good in my life when the primal monkey in me shows another banana tree? I am glad I have a daughter whom I am no longer involved with the mother because now I feel that forever freedom like if I don't get married or cheat on every girl I meet from here on out, breaking innocent hearts squandering dreams  I will always have my beautiful baby girl to fall back on, and eat ice cream with, and buy zantac at midnight for. Which is terrible but true, so without her I would reconsider the others I'm hurting but I'm so effed in the head that I probably will never change, today marks the would be 27th birthday of my friend mick rylander who died in a horrific car accident eleven years ago, I'm feeling bitter/better/saddened and reading s's blogs and remembering the time she made me walk home from that ann arbor brewery after finally confronting the cheating situation of the previous year and how on my walk home I decided I only wanted to write raps about how much I hated myself for hurting her and how I wanted to marry her or kill myself or overdose or do something selfishly to mask my own embarassment for ruining something great, but I also remember when she quit heroin, got pregnant and married and had a beautiful baby girl with a man that I think is ten times the person I am and a million times the person that punk motherfucker lyman was, and I'm happy that fate worked out well, I have my own demons to face and the fact that she still talks to me is a blessing from allah, peace be upon him. Idk where I'm going on this one just a rambling man with a bukowski libido, miss u mick

Ayo I'm tired of using technology

Ayo I'm tired of using technology

Things on my mind:

1.after two hundred years of glorious tradition... Err partying, my weed days finally must come to an end. Not by choice, my hippie at heart will continue my path at a later date like ted danson's character in, bored to death, but for now, new yet archaic demands from some potential business opportunities are keeping me from my 2nd fav lil lady, miss cheeba. I always imagine miss cheeba as a strong black woman with a perfectly smooth afro sheened styrofoam spherical fro'..ya she gets by selling left over food stamps but that's the governments fault, and an afternoon blunt while the babies are sleeping ain't no thing. Miss cheeba is turning into a mixture of of my old neighbor miss dee and tupac mama afeni shakur. Either way I gotta take some piss tests and this along with background checks is making it harder and harder for a brother to get work these days. Unless you use work in the los drogas sense...

2.all I wanna do is get high, hang out with my daughter (before you judge I never smoke around my daughter) who is the bomb. Besides dna we have so much in common...we pass out on the couch together watching netflix, love making fun of cranes, and we both love making awkward jokes that no one else understands is a joke. Which is actually the true reason I got in so much trouble in elementary school. We love ice cream and dangerous adventures and the zoo she is just too much awesome for me to handle. It makes me sad about my deadbeat status so long, its hard to atone for that especially to an eight year old who knows when I'm not around, so I try to buy her love which is kinda effed because my baby mama its poor with 3 kids and 3 baby daddies but it makes her happy and thats good enuff for me

the reason one side of my nose is always stuffy

coke dealers love to give out free lines. its the "oldest trick in the book" line that every coke dealer learns day 1 on the job. this used to fool me time and time again, back in my younger years, but i don't be fallin for that shit anymore. it used to baffle me how someone could give away the supposed sweet sweet nectar of cocaine for free...even 1 hit....but now that i'm older i've thought the hidden agenda, of the coke dealer, out, and asked myself...

Q: why is giving a free sample so successful to the business model of slanging cain?

A: inferior product

point-

-the average coke high last 15-20 minutes.

- the human brain gets addicted to any stimulus instantly.

-uppers give you a sudden euphoria where everything is so significant at that moment

-coming down off uppers turns that significance into reality

-the coke "hangtime, the instant addiction, the euporia, and the comedown all melt together for the next 30 minutes and make you sacrifice anything, for another ride. now i'm not talking sex (well at least not at first) but i mean...(oh shit, i have to pay my phone bill or its getting shut off tomorrow...ah fuck it... i don't need a phone, lets get an 8 ball)

so, monetarily speaking, a five dollar loss in free lines means a 120-180 dollar gain when the new cokeheads start making life decisions on copping more. see, this shit never happens with meth, or ecstasy because one line or hit of that shit and your straight all night. but cokes utter shittiness has you fiending for more in less than 1 episode of Imagination Station. so you end up making that trip to the gas station at 1 in the morning to get the party really started. score one for the coke dealers on that epipheny. so now i turn these free coke line offers because i know i'm just gonna end up making some bad money decisions a half hour later. i live by a new mantra.... " I don't want a free line...but i'll take a free eightball...."