On the Gentle Art #14

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What are you afraid of? Are you scared of things that go bump in the night? Monsters? Demons? Serial-killers? Clowns? Serial-killer clowns? Or worst of all, spiders? Maybe you are the type of person who is scared by the more mundane: heights, water, flying, subway travel, or mystery meat school lunches? (I always stuck with the PB&J myself. I didn’t trust the Soylent Green Sloppy Joes. Badly behaved kids had a strange way of disappearing. They said to the “alternative school”, but I never trusted them either.)
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Ray, the Lucky Leprechaun That Could & Did on a Very NYC Thanksgiving (Part II)

December 23, 2016: Hot off the presses! Update! Nowadays everybody wanna talk but nothing comes out when they move they lips, just a bunch of gibberish. And mofos wanna act like they forgot about Ray!

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So first off, I just want to correct the record. The news is reporting that the cops have identified our man Ray the “Manhattan Bullion Snatcher”, aka “Gold Dust”, aka “Lucky Leprechaun”, aka “The Westside Bucket Bandit”, as a dude that goes by the name of Julio some-shit-or-other. Well let me just say this: Fuck you Ray! We know it’s you, you gold grabbing fuck. You may have everyone fooled, but we got you Ray! Alright now that the PSA is out of the way let’s get back to our story. Continue reading “Ray, the Lucky Leprechaun That Could & Did on a Very NYC Thanksgiving (Part II)”

That moment you hit the ball into the neighbor’s yard. Except it’s a spy drone!

December 15, 2016: 5o nautical miles from somewhere no good where the Chicoms are doing shady shit, and the U.S. is doing them dirty to keep'em clean.

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That’s what happened to the USNS Bowditch a few days ago when it was steaming (lurking) near Subic Bay in the South China sea, except the ball is a stealthy “surveying” drone (every time you read “surveying” substitute “spy”), and the neighbor is China. You know the feeling. You shouldn’t have been playing there. Your mom has told you a million times, but you just can’t help yourself. You love playing your game. It’s fun, and as long as you don’t get caught…well no harm no foul. Then it happens. Your ball goes sailing over the fence into the neighbor’s yard, and as if he’d been watching the whole time, your neighbor opens his porch door walks out to his yard, and picks up the ball ignoring your protests, and apologies.
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On Writing…or whatever it is that I do.

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I was recently drafting a premise for a post. It was one that I felt particularly sure about at the moment of its inception. It was one that arose out of a fire that had been building and consuming my thoughts. I was so sure that the premise was based on a truth, and so I took to the keyboard with righteous anger. However, after a few paragraphs I ran out of fuel, but I was still smoldering. I was sure that no harm would come by taking a break because it had burned so intently that it had seared my flesh so I made the cardinal sin of walking away from the keyboard for the night. I made sure to take care of the glowing ember through the night. I stoked the next few paragraphs in my thoughts until sleep salved me. Continue reading “On Writing…or whatever it is that I do.”