Better than the alternative.. Yes, I'm grateful.. Thank U*

All my who wants to be a millionaire, lifeline homies... I don't ever worry about Merideth's ?'s because of yoos...

Those who bleed my brand.. Wouldn't be breathing without cha, straightfaces...

so comfortable in the dark yet, I still thank the Moon Beams..

Deep inhales, all day, everyday I thank the Sun Rai's...

For my  Angel Counsel, I thank you for letting me trip and stumble, and figure out the path as ACM..

Even the dejected and dishonest.. Thank you for your obstacles and self served riddles... You exercise my light...

This feels waaay better than bitching about x or y...

If I didn't get you, you're looking too closely... You're in there...

Get right, grub out...

I'm sure this is redundant for some... Too long overdue for others...

You each know exactly why I owe you a drink, for some, I gotta some how be there to jump in front of that bullet...

I love ya'll...

acm 

Old as f......

So.....

Anybody else get freaked out when you talk to teenagers?

How can a kid not know who the fuck cobra commander is?!!

Sometimes people call me sir...

For the most part I get carded for everything..R rated movies even...

But, I guess when I'm wearing big boy clothes, every once in a while...

A smart ass senior, will put down his smoking hot sidekick just long enough to complete my transaction... "Thank you sir.."

I'm pretty sure he's being a prick..

I hope so, otherwise, I feel bad for my compulsion to choke him by his apron every time he does it..

I'm being sensitive, right, no shit...

Cause I am actually getting old...

The OG's are probably laughing their asses off at this one...

They said it would happen..

But, it's not just that they said we'd get old..I mean, that's not exactly enlightenment...

I just remember different conversations with different adults..

Like my folks, not understanding yet marveling, at my fascinations with some of the silliest things..

Pops once let me get like 20 packs of Now and Laters to grind at school the next day... Bad daddy? Nah, I was a very convincing little dude.. And when I came home with like 4 times what he paid for the candy the next day... Age 7, he gave me props for my hustle... And took his front money back...

Or when I was 22...

a skinny,loud mouth, bad ass, busboy with an afro..

One of my fellow busboys, Ali was going through a late, midlife crisis...

He adopted me, and Tuscon, and would take us to the bars after we got cut..

It was pretty sad.. We were broke, and short on scruples...

We would let him foot the night, and we would take him to our spots, with our friends..

We knew it was wrong, and since we did nothing to correct our behavior....

One night after work, we all went to Dolly's house, one of  the servers...

Busboys get off last, obviously, so by the time we showed up at the crib...

Everybody was faaaayyyy.....did..

I really doubt I have to continue this tale...

Needless to say, Ali should've known that post 911, it's a really good idea to keep your hands to yourself at afterwork house parties.... When you're from Morocco,a busboy, and 42...

Guantanamo Bay could not have been worth a sleezy grope of a passed out bartender...

Right, point is...

Something so good, or so bad happened to that dude... And alot of people... That won't let them accept age...

Porsches, botox, skinny jeans....

Gets worse, I'm being nice...

Hope that ain't me hella gray hairs from now....

Pleeeeaaase don't let my kids' dad be that guy...

Happy to be old... Done it all, seen it all...

But still young at heart...

That's the goal... Cause I'll never forget the time I talked Pops into getting himself a pair of CrossColour Jeans...

Politic.....Al

Now, normally I don't do this...

but this isn't normally, now is it?

Tomorrow...

I'll be shaking my head in astonishment....

Or packing my shit, damn I gotta get my passport renewed....

well, once it arrives in the mail, at least I'll already be packed...

by the time mr and mrs fudd get sworn in, i'll be poorly speaking my new language...

never thought I would see the day...

presidential nominee... right there...

a brah...

whoa.. won't we find out where we are as a society tomorrow?

truly a new day, or that's what I thought fuckers...

could be a riot either way...

i just wish if my dude does win.......

on inauguration day...

he would lean into the the mike, and say....

"WHADDUP YA'LL?!  LET'S GET THIS MOTHERFUCKER STARTED!!!"

Naw, j mac wouldn't do that.... psych!!!

waking up to reruns..

it's probably my fault..

i mean groundhog's day is like one of my all time joints... "am i right or am i right?" "right?" "right?"

that dude is stoopid...

i barely feel shit..

for good reason though...

i mean... with reason..

walking through life like a tunnel..

sometimes it feels just like a tunnel...

but the walls change...

sometimes they're cement...

sometimes they're people...

walking through...

so that's it!! it all looks the same, cause i'm not really looking...

guess that explains the lack of feeling...

but i know it, so that doesn't spell out a lack of dealing...

just holding my cards a little tighter...

be nice if I could start getting up a little earlier, and my eyes could stay a little whiter...

so that's why every channel looks the same...

i'm like, "i've seen this episode", and we're watching the game...

all of a sudden, attention is expensive...

and i'm an absent minded dead beat..

it would behoove me to start saving up...

cause the sun's shine ain't gonna wait, for me to start waking up...

my pledge guys..

tomorrow, when I open my eyes, I'll open them wide open...

instead of yesterday's and today's, eyes wide shut....

not gonna lie, i'm nervous...

but excited...

first day of school, kinda groove...

i'm on it...

No more reruns...

KACM... only original programming...

Finally.. (I love you cookie and bobby)

9.21.2008 sometime in the a.m...

He couldn't hide it, he was excited..

But, he still felt bad for the puppies..

"They know.." He thought.. "We taught them right, they know.."

He didn't worry.. He just held a heavy heart..

Yes.. They would be alright, that much was made sure of everyday, everybody was together..

None the less, the Maynard crest was split into pieces, and for that he still hung his head..

But, over the last 15 long years...

No day was like today..

His girl was coming home..

And for that, he couldn't wipe that grin off his face...

I don't blame either of you crazy kids..

What soul doesn't wait in patient agony for their mate?

In the name of true love,  you have my blessing to please, rest in peace..

Love, ACM

Got it good my ass! #23!

Times is getting hard, like we should be in black and white...

Old school hard..

The desperation and the dare, in crime now, reminds me of the old west...

Kids can't afford to pay attention...

Squishing schools together, cause they can't teach on their own...

Who got it good?

True, but he would have it good regardless..

Plenty of my friends, miserable in dead-end gigs..

Can't pursue their passion, cause dreams cost money before they make money...

Right now, even the dreamers of America are playing it close to the bone...

What if Paul Revere didn't have enough gas in his horse to make it all the way to Lexington? 

I mean, everyone has to look out for Uno Nuno right now..

More than ever before...

Is anyone else feeling divided? 

Or Conquered? 

I'll tell you who feels united and victorious...

Him..

Cause he eternally got it good..

And he's not the sensitive type, so don't try to make him feel guilty about it..

Locate your joy, and don't ever show it to him..

Really considering a relocation that would involve learning a new language..

Straight faces, had a dream I was on Wall St robbing suits for stocks...

I'd sell em in-weight to Martha, and she would push it back to them cut like 4 times..

The Muppets were the Stock Task Force..

In Tommy Lee Jones voice, Kermit was chasing me all over the world, calling me Dr Kimbel.. 

I wake up, and I'm half wondering why I'm not robbing rich people..

So, I know I ain't got it good.. 

Ain't nobody waking up in the morning sad their dream is over where they robbed me..

That ain't just my crafty lil mind..

N*88as is broke these days...

Yeah, always got it better than somebody..

But, cuzn says, "just cause you put syrup on shit don't make it pancakes."

And hell no, the furry  Sam Gerard didn't catch me..

In my dreams I'm hella stealth...

and I got it good..

My Mind...that tricky lil phucker..

"You ain't shit, motherfucker. What the fuck makes you so special? You're not funny. They are laughing AT you. Starving artist my dick, you're a broke, old ass fuck up. You're not gonna make it...NO! You ain't gonna make it.. For shame, how you have disgraced the name.. Tsk,tsk.. Shoulda done the fucking homework, like Nancy told you to.. But, no.. So, look at you--check to check, night to night, hand to mouth.. And you think all that "hard work" is gonna pay off, don't you? It can only get so bad, gotta struggle to get to the good thing, blah,blah,blah--you're a corny slob. It could've been different, but you suck, so it only gets worse from here. Enjoy these days of being a scrub... You're soon to graduate to full fledged bum.."

I wish my mind would talk shit to me like that..

I'd just scream, "SHUUUT THE FUCK  UUUUUPPPPP!!!!!!!"

Silence.....

Naw, my mind is a way crafty lil fucker.

He just hints to those hurtful things about myself typed above..

And then, he'll play good cop/bad cop..

"No, that's not true."/"Well, if the shoe fuckin fits."

And I'm swaying like the wind..

Fucking with myself..

Not just when I'm bored. Not just if I'm sad. 

You know when he really wants to stick it to me?

When I'm happy...

When I, even for a moment, don't have a care in the world..

"You know this is temporary right? As soon as you walk out of this club, you better put your shit helmet back on."

You buzz killing fuck..

Um.. yeah, the problem is he's right, I'm not rich..

If I was, at least i could threaten to get a lombodomy and shut that fool up for a sec..

So I decided i was gonna "Craig" "D-BO"..

I'm staring in the mirror, all fierce faced...

My mind's like," what you gonna do with that? besides make me mad.."

And I decided, "fuck it," I'm a part-time hippy...

Fuck money! 

Yes, I overstand that in this land...

I NEED money..

But, I truly believe THEM, when they say, that if money is your only worry..... your STR8..

I wish money was my only worry..

All my other worries are actually the reason, or part of the reason I covet money...

FUCK MONEY!!!

What about him?

NO matter where i go..

what i'm doing...

successful, or pitiful..

dude is riding with me...

Lately, we've been on a new groove though...

Respecting each other's boundaries, and all that good conflict relief bullsheet..

He's still gonna be him, and I can't be nobody, but Alecks..

Yeah, he's gonna wanna spark some shit...

Guess what?

I'm a mushroom cloud laying mutherfucker too, mutherfucker..

He told me when I read him the rough draft of this, that ya'll would want to commit me, immediately..

I told him that everybody got their own shit, and that he's not that special, for the general pop to perceive him as a threat..

That's all..

Every once in a while, it's nice to dine at a turned table..

M.agic O.r M.ortality?

Fire and ashes...

Look at those flames, live with pride...

Sad embers flitter away with shame...dead and gray...

The moment where they are informed they are not fit for survival..

Lifestyles.. Life Choices..

Fate.. Circumstance..

Wonder if they knew on the wake up that today, they would use their last stack of magic?

The wisest have looked over the ledge, stared at the ground, and kept their balance...

Hard Times.. Wrinkled face,hard lines..

Frowning at the agony on my face,then smiling through the pain...

Fuck life's stylist, cause i don't like the way things done changed..

trauma couture better be a quick fad, cause it's too expensive for me to keep up with the J. Dough's..

I prefer to rock life gear when it comes to mortal clothes...

i look around the town, where did all the mortals go?

The good ones having to die would explain all these guys...

And even a lady who survived cancer...

sipped her wine right in front of me, but couldn't give me an answer...

I've seen it, and I can't tell you...

I know people who have been at the hand of it, and don't know where they sent em...

A scientist could show you charts and graphs, but so what?

A religious mind could breakdown their version to you, but with all due respect, so what?

Doesn't that kinda even everybody out?

No one you know can tell you what it's like on the other side...

Sure, people go on daytime airwaves and claim to have seen the light...

I'm not saying they haven't, but that doesn't help me understand what it means to die...

I'm gonna see light?

Ok.. I'll try to go with a pair of shades on, thanks...

Do you see yourself laying there?

Are you instantly carted off to paradise or parish?

Is there are dress code for heaven and or hell?

Is there like an AfterLife Facebook or Myspace so I can find all the homies I've been pouring some out for?

They owe me hella shots!

Is Hell like Death Prison?(just asking, none of us are fully sure of the criteria, and I know I'm boderline regardo)

Do all the angel homies come and visit and give you hot potato window bump?

I'm fucking around, but only because this shit is so crucial, I'm squirming in my seat...

Regardless of where we go, fact is, there's a circle of people, huddled together in loss when we do...

trying to understand what everyday after today means...

but what I'm trying to understand is...

what are we doing while they're trying to figure all that out?

When a flame becomes an ash..

Magic?

Or just plain old science?

Victim for breakfast...

a new neighbor moved in four doors down over the weekend...

just two guys moving in, that's all i saw...

but this morning.. one of the dudes walks in the store, as i'm at the counter paying...

i take a quick look to see, this dude got knocked the fuck out!

face all split open...

says he took the other dude i had seen him with off the street...

gave him a room in the crib, and woke up this morning to dude whaling on him..

and then stealing his bike....

this guy has just sent the entire neighborhood a really bad message...

i'd be surprised if he's still here in two weeks...

cops were in front of his house like all day...

my friends with the curbside service on the other corner surely didn't appreciate it...

these are the people in my neighborhood..

natural tone..(that Hallmark flavor)

   You were born on a clear night, right outside the capital of less is more..

Dawn captures you how i picture you..

natural...

the way mom likes to see you when you visit...

natural..

like the first time she cradled your tiny frame..

see..i like you all dolled up in make up..

but compared to just you, it ain't the same..

i don't find our kisses plain..

without lipstick, our lips will still stick..

please no bells or whistles..

just you, lady natural..

skin as smooth as a dream when you fall down..

baby, you don't need that rouge right now..

this isn't my master plot to get you naked..

well,not completely..

just a little spring cleaning, eliminating the unnecessary..

me the nocturnalist, started to go to bed early..

just to catch your morning face..morning's grace...

i've gone to sleep for the night, i can't wait..

it's the natural slumber, the natural dreams, the natural tone...

of our close bodies, and our wandering souls...

sunrise brings those journeys to a close...

sweatbeads on your forehead looks like dew on a rose..

so i lean in, and smell your cheek..

mother earth's new scent..

in stores now..

and she's calling it you..

Through the windows of my soul...

glimpses of brilliance and beauty...

reruns of fear and pure ignorance..

the responsible folk... gazing safely in the sky at night...

but stars go hard...

little adults of a bunch of different sizes... kids are extinct...

people with faith.. people with nuthin...

myself in the morning when i'm mad...

myself at night when I'm nice...

them...

i always see them...

they always see me...

oh yeah? well they always see you too...

triumph and tragedy of  several different volumes and values...

my loved ones.. those with hate....

she's cool..he's a prick...he's a puss...she's a lay-up..she's a know it all...he's a know it all.. he's a know it all.. she's a know it all.. okay, i think he's the last one... okay,okay.. her and him, and that's it... those are the all the know it alls....

whew... ah yes.. he's an outcast... he's still on the hanger... she's a swabber... he's power starved... he's attention starved.. she's redemption starved... 

too many i see to name em all...

and yet everyone you pass is naming you....

is that why the "odds" are against us?

ashes,ashes we all get clowned...

no sticks, no stones thrown..

i still  see people on the ground...

i'm on my own two but we're one in the same...

we both  look up, and put out our hands begging for change...

I'm looking at the sky, he's looking at some fast walking guy...

and both of our current postures remain...

innocent felons..

prudent prostitutes..

gangster nerds rollin wit candy thugs..

 corporate america copping from the spot...

from a dude in VANS and straight legs...

the sand i've passed in my hourglass...

the past..

today...

and then?

back when.. my eyes were so innocent, they could've committed any of the sensational crimes, since '79 and got off...

 oh that's right.. they did..

EXCLUSIVE!! A one time BrainFart expose':Women who kill and the Men who Love them

*This is a serious matter, that should be taken seriously..there is blood involved.."*BF

Good morning all.. 

This is BrainFart, reporting live for KACM Channel 23....

We are on location, outside of the home of Mr and Mrs Tragedy..

apparently, several people have disappeared at the hands of Mrs Tragedy..last seen near her, and then..pooof...we are here to find out what she and her husband, Poor Jasper Tragedy...that's his name..i swear... anyway we are going to find out what happened to all those people...This, coming just a week after the "Venice Beach Banquet of Death"... Where an out of control woman, Mrs Harmdunn, just started walking around the boardwalk-- her husband Ricky, in a full tux, top hat, and cane holding onto his wife's leg for dear life, as she began swallowing every person in her path under her flowing gown... I don't know if you've seen the footage, but the image of a beautiful Vera Wang piece just vacuuming hobos and tourists all over of the boardwalk is surreal...but it's real...very freaky...After a day and half standoff, and 257 victims vanished.. Frog Men were able to spill a really big glass of wine on the dress, causing the monster to retreat.... They followed her back to her lair in Malibu, where they obviously had no choice but to blow the shit up.... None of the victims or the creature was recovered....Except Mr Harmdunn,who was found unconscious, in the fetal position, under a big smoldering pile of his wife....

Once he returned to full lucidity, he begged for them to just kill him.. They put him in the lunchbox, because he threatened to end himself, if they wouldn't do it for him.... He hasn't spoke or eaten since that day... the hospital has been feeding him through iv,other wise he would get his wish and parish....Authorities and scientists are very interested in keeping Mr Harmdunn alive... We'll get back to that a little later

And now we have Mrs Tragedy, 

So far, the couple has not been available for comment, but right now, we have their next door neighbor Mr Bennet I. Ain'tinit, ready to give us his account..

"yeah, she been crazy!!! she was like nice, up to a point you know?but once that switch got fixed...man,she was like a guest on a talk show! cursing all wild and windmill swinging arms...but i think she really wanted to be on a talk show, cause she would like self edit her curses, and make poor Jasper hold her back like the celebrity bouncer guy...very sad..she was cool with me, cause that's how i kept it! i never gave her a reason to flip,so she ain't flip..but, if i woulda lived like down the street a couple houses,like in that marvelous example of architecture the stuck up ass Lake's live in...ole stuck up asses.. shit i'd a.....huh? oh! oh, sorry.. uh,man i'd a cursed her ass out a long time ago....uh, I can say ass though right? ok, sorry again bout that.. anyway, that's only cause ole' Benny is packing! that's right! heh, heh.. oh, man don't sweat it, i got papers... wha? you don't wanna pop a couple off? sure? alright..But you better be packing, if you try to start something with that lady..but since I live next door, it would be to easy for her to catch me slippin, see? yeah, I know she's real little..but she got some muscles boy... look like a lil version of that wrestler girl Chyna..yeah, i'm not even sure if my betsy here would even do anything to that woman..if she even is a woman...you sure you don't wanna fire nothing off? You could do an expose' on like what happens to bullets once you shoot em in the air...hey, well do you at least wanna see me shoot one off?" 

Bennet, still not aware of this reporter's certainty  he would be shot and killed by accident by an old, crazy, with airtime... Finally, after a lil geriatric shuffle and struggle, tucks the revolver back into his trousers where it came from...but i really wish he would just put it back in the lock box.. Hup! super surprise, the gun goes off.. through his pant leg,ricochets off a pole, and through the Tragedy's front window pane...

With the the "O" face...Mr Ain'tinit disappears back into his house, interview over!!!!!!

As the last shards of glass fall from the frame..maybe 60 ft of glass total...just all over the lawn....

The crew and I.......well, we stand there....

And.....

This is the next conversation i have...

With the swat team...

"the last I recall...is an arm..

a looong arm...

a strong arm...

but this arm was in the sleeve of a fuzzy, mint green, bath robe....

it grabbed Dennis, our camera guy, and I don't know after that officer..."

"Okay, thank you, mr. brainfart..don't worry, we have our guys surrounding the house, and digging a hole under it...

you didn't wanna, like be there, when we get through the other side, you know, you could tie it into a prairie dog expose' or somthing.."

"I'm going to sit here,for a second.. officer..and I will, uh, get right back to you on that idea,thank you..."

Obviously, we are not crawling under these people's house...

But, we do need to get to the bottom of this....

The reason we were originally here, before dumbass almost shot his old nuts off..

Word in the sentence is, that Mrs Tragedy has killed, like hella people!!!! And, Mr Tragedy, poor Jasper... is her accomplice!!! but they say he could never kill on his own... he does it for love... poor jasper..

Mrs Tragedy pops up.. standing there in the empty window pane, blood splattered all over her mint green, bath robe... television camera cables, hanging out of her mouth... her hair, looked like she had a tornado trapped under a hat, then took the hat off...

in one hand, she had Dennis' tshirt, which she used as a napkin..in the other, she held poor jasper, in her arm, like a kid..

he clutched her tightly, looking like a terrified chimp... 

Wait.. she's trying to say something...

she starts screaming in another language, with her mouth full..

no idea what she just said..

zipping through the morning fog, a big ass tranquilizer dart hits the crazy bitch in the neck,dropping her and poor jasper to the glass soaked floor of the living room...

swat swoops in, everybody busts their grade school, recess nut..

cattle prods,rope, like 8 swat dudes wrangling poor mrs tragedy...or Cecilia if your know her...

Poor Jasper, panicking like a first day kindagartener, whose mommy is leaving the class room now...

they were actually able to get her onto a stretcher, and then they wrapped a whole roll of duct tape around her...tight like a tiger...

she tried, but with the dart all in her system, she had nothin...

they wheeled her out, over the broken glass...

Trigger Happy, ole' Bennet, was back out, on his porch..beaming with glee at the sight of his wicked neighbor being carted off.....finally....

Poor Jasper was being rolled off, right next to her...in a stroller...hysterically crying,and flipping about like a fish outta water...on crank.....somebody put this guy out of his misery already!!

Well folks,looks like things are wrapped up here.. I'll catch you guys over at the precinct,this should be good...

Downtown, Police Headquaters..

Outside the station, the reporters are like crazed fans at a rock concert...

and inside......

So, here we are in the station...

Pardon my whispering, and all the static from the mic in my pants....

Obviously, you can't film in a police station, but there was no way this reporter would let the story end outside... 

okay, so there he is... Mr Tragedy...

"Poor Jasper...

stuck in an interrogation room-- handcuffed to his chair, in his footie pjs, covered in blood crying for his wifey...

who was being molded in lava like Hans Solo...

The magma would cool, and she wouldn't be able to move...ever!!

But, they kept her face, and other areas uncovered, so they could do tests and stuff...

Meanwhile, 2 big, mean ole detectives enter the room with Poor Jasper..

immediately they take turns smacking the guy around..

one of the goons goes too far, and starts choking jasper with his blankey..

the other goon breaks it up...

it worked..

jasper gets to tattling and spilling the beans.... 

"i'm here to ta,ta,ta tell you detective, this is not a normal situation.."

The detective likes the way this is starting off...

"A little faster, wouldya dufus? No shit this isn't normal.. you're broad eats people, and then fixes you a pbj with  no crust before she tucks your pussy ass in for your afternoon nap...so what is she? a monster? tazmanian chickenhead? that it? a cult or something? talk to me, over there, slumber party.."

Poor Jasper, sweating in his man sized monkey suit, looks anywhere but the cops faces..

"She..she.. sheeee...wasbornwithakillgina!!"

The cops simultaneously lean over and earl at opposite ends of the table...

Supposed to be urban blabber, reportedly, there are women who are born with a different version of the female anatomy.. Crudely termed  a "killgina"..

This is a vagina that causes the woman to kill..repeatedly..like all the time...a monster really..super strength, and bad manners..

different shapes,creeds,colors.. doesn't matter..

women born with killgina's are everywhere..surely you know some....

but, you just thought she was really mean...

Back to the interrogation..

 "Well, if that's true, which y0u better hope it is, home alone...." the detective says, wagging his finger at poor jasper...."that would explain the thing in Venice, and we just got a new report in from Lancaster,Pa.. So that's your story and you're sticking to it, huh, numb nuts? Mommy got a killgina?"cops laugh all the way out of the room, poor jasper just quivering in his blanket... pure fear of Cecilia..

uh, i mean love.. he was shaking cause of how much he loved her... 

  

Uh, hold the phone, he's waving me over...

"Mr Tragedy, i am BrainFart, from KACM Channel 23.."

Poor Jasper is standing upright!!! With his chest out..

"Fuck you, lil reportin ass nigga!!!" Straightfaces, Poor Jasper just pulled an AK out of his pajamas...

He pushes me to the floor, and starts spraying...

He levels the floor, most people injured, but unfortunately some are definitely dead..

He grabs me by my collar, all of a sudden poor jasper got nuts...and muscles... and an AK!!

Pulling me along, he blasts his way to the elevator, where he pushes the down button..

He's trying to figure out how he's going to get his sweetie out of the volcanic rock mold she's been encased in..

We arrive in the basement of the police station,where the scientists, and bales of medicinal live..

Pop,pop,pop,pop,pop,pop..

I've seen this dude, cap like 60 people in 5 minutes.. as feeble as he was before, he is just as ruthless now...

180?

that was some Verbal Kent shit, no wonder why they've got away with this shit for so long...

 For some reason, death doesn't stand over me reading, like it did when I was interviewing that half wit Mr Ain'tinit...

I feel like Jasper( ain't nothing poor about him right now) chose me for a reason...

There for, if I'm compliant, he won't kill me...maybe..

He makes me step over all the slain scientists, and wheel Mrs Tragedy to the elevator...

He follows me, with the AK in between my shoulder blades..nudging me every once in a while, to make sure I still understood...

She is damn near breaking out of that mold!!!

He presses the up button and it's right there..

Hella uniform dudes start blasting, I hit the deck, but how long could it be before I get sho.......

Mrs Tragedy busts out of the mold....

Ah shit, it's on now...

they're shooting her, and nothing is happening...

she keeps screaming what sounds like,"Hans Solo ain't got nuthin on me!!!" but i can't be sure what that lady really be sayin..

the bullets aren't bouncing off her, they're just disappearing....

All of a sudden, I'm in the safest seat in the house,where a reporter should be...

She eats her way onto the elevator, and Jasper pushes me in front of him..

As soon as he gets on the elevator, she grabs Jasper, and puts his whole head in her mouth..

ewwww.you could see her big ole tongue, just gyrating around his head...

She puts him back down, and smiles..i guess..

He's standing there dizzy, like he's loving it.. Umm,whatever floats your boat?

They push me off on the garage level.. I instantly hit the deck, I watch movies, i know these fools are surrounded...

Yahtzee!!! same deal.. me and blasting jasper, walking behind this lil,big ole monster.. 

Absorbing bullets, and annihilating the police force..

That's gotta be a record, she took out the whole force!!!!

They dance around bodies, and guns...

He writes "I LUV U CEECEE".. Really big on the floor of the garage... In cop blood..

They look at me...

would you guys laugh, if a deuce fell outta my pant leg right now? fuck you, I got real people problems! critics..

I could see the wheels turning..They're gonna do some really twisted shit to me,oh man,oh man,oh man...

Oh man, she's gonna rape me, while Jasper watches Dora the Explora, i can tell...

He's walking over....

"Reporter sucka, stand up.."

I get up, like i've been on the ground for days...

He starts patting me down, I can hear more cops coming, but they have to figure out how to get past a bunch of flaming cars and bodies...

He finds the mic hook up, ewww..shut up..

"you ain't got no camera,mutherfucka?"

He still won't look anyone in the eye, even with an AK dripping with cop 

blood...

"No,no sir. Jasper. I,I didn't wanna risk it with tha.."

" I don't give a fuck, reporter... Just make sure, you make a good story out of that audio you got... You tell the truth, mutherfucka!!"

"Oh, yes sir, Mr Tragedy, I,I'm gonna make sure people know you are, are the vic..victims.."

Whew.. Talk about selling that good shit...

He heard what he wanted to hear...

Down the way, the cops have just about broken through, but bullets are already flying again...

From under one of the few unburnt squad cars, I see Jasper and Cecelia hop in a swat truck and go the other way from where the bullets were coming....

Crashes, smashes, crackling of gun fire, mixed with the wretched sound of grown men in complete agony...

So this is what a massacre looks like..

at the hands of a schitzo with a rifle, and a lil lady with a killgina..

Now i hear commotion on the street...

 I jump on the hood of the squad car, to get a peek out of the garage window...

Finally, I realize all of the blood surrounding me doesn't belong to the cops...

I've taken one in the thigh, and shoulder...

My last glimpse before passing out was the swat truck, swerving down the street.. 

only a couple of cars left to chase them...

Turns out, they got away....

yeah, Cecelia is still out there..

but even if she wasn't...

there are others...

women..who seem like normal, everyday, regular women...

but they'll kill you before they get they're hair done, and think nothing of it...

and her husband will be right next to her watching...

diary of a crush..

anticipation is like a tattoo..

you know it's gonna sting at first, but then the surface goes numb.. Spike, you are now free to do your magic..

and that's me..

been walking alone for a while,but she makes me want to get a table for two..

but how do i tell her, she is the lady i'd like to get some tapas and a bottle of rioja with?

or maybe i should take her to get some fish with something light,and fruity?

she gonna last if she wants to skip elegance with a burger and some new castles..

what if she wants to go chill right after work, and just walk, maybe get some ice cream,or a cup of coffee..

wait for her train,sharing a pair of broken headphones..oh, now forever that'll be our song...

a crush...

yeah, you a big dog..

but, how fresh do you feel right now?

ain't that puppy breath you got fogging up your mirror on the wake up?

you gon look good for her today,ain't cha homie?

sun shining brighter?

you just can't seem to wipe that stupid ass grin off your face...

and you could give a fuck,like a hooker on her day off..

But you haven't said a word yet,those good times are all in your head...

like you're trying to get up the nerve to sock a bully..

deep puffs..deep puffs..deep puffs...

whatever that means to you...

ahhhhhhh!!!!

at it like a rabbit...

but i'm so cool...

proud of myself,cause i'm so cool..

and even though in reality i'm not that cool...

and yet she's digging how cool i think i'm being...

and yet i'm mr obvious toward the end of happy hour...

but i'm straightfaced...

not swindling, and that's why her defense mechanisms are dwindling....

Cause these  butterflies in my  belly can't be lying...

do belly bugs even have the capacity to lie?

so i'm not scared of her....

like she's holding a gun to my heart, swearing she'll do it if i don't back up...

i'm a reincarnated,puppyfaced,str8faced,eyes wide shut,eyes wide open,hopeless romantic,reckless warrior....

whatever she can do with that is hers...

it always goes right back to the sandbox...

when it comes to a crush...

STR8 Faces..

You're a socio piece of shit, that's what you are...

you can tell me whatever, to get what you want?fuck you...

sleep good at night, don't you asshole?

as long as you're good, you're good..

wow...

when you look at the globe, you see a mirror....

if "me" was a 5th of gin, you'd have the hiccups, and smell like a barfight during christmas...

how do you convince everyone to care about you, when caring about you is the only thing the two of you have in common?

lovers,bosses,homies,well wishers,do gooders, samaritans, and philanthropists? all these different people, tricked by the same treat..

 you escaped from the john, and somehow have been able to disguise yourself as something else....

but i know you....

all i see is a piece of shit, with a straightface....

mr hankey on botox..

your're not going to swindle me again...

not for nothing..

you straight faced son of a bitch...

I've bought your products..

exercised your rhetoric..

logged onto your websites..

they really think they love you..

I don't know about you guys, but i'm taking my bamboozle depressants twice a day, like doc told me to..

and if it happens again, still shame on me...

But, I guarantee some jilted,scarred,damaged motherfucka will cosign....if you got got by a straightface...

ain't no weezy win nukka

i wonder if that strong odor of brain rot could explain why i'm so strange?

last night, walking from the train i was eventually surrounded by a bunch of dudes,who all looked like lil wayne...

i'm ready to attack and be attacked,but it looks like i'm gonna get maimed...

i step outside myself, and look at me, like "dude,for real?"

are you really about to get killed by the lollipop guild?

and i looked at my judging self, like "you could knuckle up too"..

so he did....yeah, but we still  got fucked up...

and then we got up... and limped back..

we walked over, and we limpin back..

still ain't no weezy win nukka...

tougher than nigerian hair..

to know me...(gotta luv your buddies)

right off the bat, i learn alot about someone by how they use the word "friend".. Most people, who use the word loosely have degrees of friends..  other people i know, say they know, and hang out with a bunch of people, but only have a few friends.. some of these people are my friends.. 

Riddle me this...

what takes forever to earn and a second to burn....

anyone?

uh,let's see.. ok, yeah you..

what?

that's right!!check out the big brain on Brad!

the answer is TRUST.. 

Brainfart is: lazy, contradictive,rude,needy,self-marinated,reckless and lacking scruples..

Depending on who you ask, this list could get alot longer,shorter,nicer,meaner,or would it be more accurate?

 for someone to be able to add or delete anything on this list, they were at least a "friend" at one point of my life.. to know me is to talk shit.. I encourage it..i look at my friends, as a really clean mirror...like they use windex instead of binaca..

might not agree with the mirror,but i've rocked a countless number of outfits, against mirror's orders....Brainfart forgot to put stubborn on the list..

See, i have alot of friends...to me, if you're my "friend" for a long duration of time, or for a short amount of time but like maybe we went through a whole bunch of crazy shit...you're family...

In the Brainfart School of Life...

Everyone starts with an "A"...

What you do with that grade is totally up to you...

If we are really cool, it's really hard to get dropped from the honor roll...

But, once you hit a "d".....

Ain't no summer school,extra credit,rotc....none of that shit!!

it's a wrap!!

you cooked!!!

peace!!!

what the hell are you looking at me with that goofy fuckin grin for?

beat it like you skeeted..kick rocks..get gone..get lost..scram..good goddam riddance...you fuckin fuck..

oops..

to know me, is to get cursed at...

all love..

actually, you definitely might not know me, and i still might curse at you.....sorry..

unless you deserved it, in which case I got more for you, if you want some.... beach..

I would die for my family.

kill for my family.

scrap for a true homie, even if he started it...(D, you crazy as hell)

would you lie for your homie? tell the truth for your homie? pretend you liked something? pretend you didn't like something? 

up to what point though?

when does a friend become a burden for you?

when have they stopped coming to class, and turning in their homework?

rapidly failing out of the prestigious institution that is your devoted friendship..

my friends are good students.. and my family is the ever present alumni..

i'm not saying if somebody dropped out of the Brainfart School of life, they wouldn't still be a great big ole' somebody...

But....

Some profound, enlightened, half a pimp, wearing a fila jumpsuit, once said to an up and coming lady of the night.."if you knew betta you could do betta."

parallel in comparison

i've never got shitfaced at cheers... like i'm far from the Norm.. Can't confirm what or when i would conform..

No longer do i get surprised, by my first impression of people, being their 2nd guessing eyes..

I promise to always answer your 1st question...

the mere presence of a teacher does not bring instant value to a lesson...

unregardless...

i'm an artist.. 

society demands i accept role model responsibility..

they say: "speak with conviction...just don't speak on convictions.. turn the other cheek, but never to whisper a conspiracy..."

they say: "there is no such thing as by any means necessary.."

they told me, " everything happens for a reason..be patient with your dreams.."

BUT I'M LIVING SO FAR BEYOND MY MEANS, I DON"T ALWAYS KNOW WHAT PATIENCE MEANS...

What if that virtue hurts you, and a patient is all you ever end up being???

a tube needed for breathing, is no way a human being wants to be being....

people with their eyes wide shut, still would like to see what they're not seeing...

homie, i'm like a baby T REX teething...

meaning.

i'm just getting started, on getting all retarded...

but once i hit my proper height, i can start a larger fight....

get real versatile..

a night owl...

swooping off the branch, through the afternoon delight...

damn you got it good

what if every morning you had to eat your pancakes with no syrup?

what if you finally got her to go out with you, only to find out her breath stank or worse?

how bout if old people moved way faster than us, but had no regard for how fragile young people are? 

what if on fridays, instead of a pay check, you were just happy human resources didn't fire you......literally.. like with a rifle...

do dudes foaming at the grill walk, into crowded places in your city and blow up?

right..

you got it good..

damn you got it good..

you could have it bad..

like a polaroid soaked celebrity..

arthritic signature hand..very sad..

 

or me. anonymous mouth.. 

have to cast my view, and comment on everything everyone does...

me and 3 of my personalities jumped our therapist this morning... also very sad..

i cut my neighbor's grass the other day, for a new perspective.... their shit wasn't greener than ours!

cas is right, I wanted to be on my lawn, if i was gonna be sweating devil grease, wearing protective mc hammer glasses..

It's like the common denominator human kryptonite...

Right now, you're saying you're satisfied, everything is cooler than peguin piss.....

But then you start looking around at what everybody else got...

Like, "man,  I could be the guy that stops time, once he enters the room...

If I can only figure out how to get........" 

don't play with your words,honey..

I was staring into a mud puddle, after the rain, the other day..

 get all reflective, wondering if my pluses outweigh my minuses..

or do my vices make it the versa?

and is that even worth 2 cartons of ports on the island?

what if the hustle is whether my pluses outweigh your minuses..

heh heh, take that! you,you destrucive,defiler of all things peachy and herbed..

how come the fuzziest, softest creatures are steel nerved?

yeah, we could kill each other..

but neither one of us could revive the other..

what is power?

does your mind play tricks, when someone is standing in the palm of your hand?

HeRoEs NEED hErOeS 2(throwback for my al mighty heads)

I fuck in my happy place, and make love where I'm scared...

Sometimes this shit feels just like air...

man, that shit ain't even there...

then, but only then do I need that shit...

like air..

Vanity is my top 7 favorite sin...

At least, until somebody drops the new shit...

Mirror, mirror don't tell lies..

Don't try to tell me I don't have eyes..

Or that the shit I see I shouldn't gaze at..

Locked myself in again, staring at the mirror, in the bathroom of the crib that I blaze at...

Health reaching hazardous levels...

Just vain enough to give a fuck..

but not concerned enough to do something about it....

Whether encouraged or doubted, it's still strength missing in action until I've found it....

It's like the world really is flat, and ain't no gettin around it....

Have I scared you?

Are you shocked yet?

Haven't I blown your mind?

Do you feel like you live in the land of little people?

Is everyone looking up to you?

And you look around, like "what the fuck are ya'll looking at?! Shit, I need a hero too!"

bulletproof coward

I'm brave enough to save the day, too damn selfish to be a hero...

I know where there is gas on tap...

I'm frightened of everything, that's why I look at you mean..

I could tell by the way they were swinging their lunch boxes, that this could be some shit..

whew.. they kept going...

I remember when it was totally safe to walk the streets..

what gas?

I didn't say anything about gas.....

I make things up for attention..

But I don't want to talk to you..

mild tangent

I just find it [uncomfortably] funny, how when I'm standing behind someone's bar--To my liberal,hip, older, pale patrons..... I look just like Obama......

Yet, if they saw me after work in my street clothes.....

They would divert eye contact, and clutch purses...[comfortably] not funny at all..

Anyway, please direct your loser, sucker for love, homies to this piece..Tell em to read each one, until they stop sitting down to pee...

get it,

Brainfart

update..sorry to my old pale patrons.... today(8/25/08) a dude..black dude...riding one skateboard and holding another, said to his girl, as I passed:" Baby, he look just like Obama don't he? I said, he look just like Obama.."

Okay, so maybe to some people I look like Obama.. A slim, long, black dude, with a small head, dark lips, and protruding  ears.... but his ears are definitely bigger than mine, gimme that!

anyway, sorry to Alice, Mark, Peter, and Jim... guess you just saw it first, or didn't have filter not to say it first..

When it hurtS so BaD (BreaKup HaNgova Pt.3, you good)

Lauryn Hill wanted to know why it felt so good, when it hurts so bad? Cause, as Uncle Rukus says, " She's nuttier than squirrel shit." 

And while Aaron Gruder's ugly ass, Black, white supremist is right, that chick might just be crazy. 

She's normal in this case, cause we are, or have; getting/gotten high off of bad vibes.. 

Silent treatment ,text sex,real sex,make-up,chill......

Until the shit hits the fan again...

Repeat above sequence..

Strain into a glass, and serve it still spinning..

Maybe it will catch up to your lips, moving a mile a minute, just trying to get a word in sideways...

When all you really want to tell her is "fuck you!"

That's what you wanna tell her, if you could see her right? "Fuck you!"

You might consider pointing that finger at yourself...See..

There are two ways to look at a break up, gentlemen..

Well, first you must understand this....A woman will always give you a hint,she'll give you a clue.. She might even give you a fish...But, what she would really like is for you to learn how to fish on your own.... "a fish?" you ask.

Check it: The fishing rod is your thought process...the ocean, your imagination.. and the fish;what you reel in, is opportunity.....The opportunity to make all her dreams come true..

A gift?

A trip?

Surprise dinner?(if you could make an edible meal, you're on par with the piumps!)

Bond with the fam?(yours,hers,both.....whoa)

the ring?(super whoa,moving towards, you on your own whoa)

Whatever her fish are,whatever size they are....

She will show you the perfect spot to catch em... Between the two trees,by the babbling brook, or whatever the eff..

But.. when it's all said.. Done,burnt, and buried...

Whether she reminds you,points out to you; the hints,clues, and suggestions you missed... You might've missed it again! Cause it was the real, and you over there, thinking it's "pre-hate"!

Regardless, in her  mind, she knows her hints would've been picked up by Stevie, and haunted by Ray..

But, you've missed em'.

Dumb ass.

Okay, the mamafucking point, is that because she told you what she wanted.......

Whether you chose to acknowledge them shits or not, is like going 18-1..

Can't blame her for being a tough competitor..

You knew there was that chance, that the two of you would not win the big one..

But the ride was sweet wasn't it?

Even if it wasn't sweet at all...

Time, hmmm?

It seems now, like it might not have been as bad as it was... Like you weren't that sad, crazy fool.. In public, cursing that poor girl out, with the devil's tongue.... Okay, it was at home... whatever, all I'm saying, is time away makes the anger go away, for a sec.... drama got some long ass legs...But, you'll remember why you're there and she's over there.. and there's no there, there..

Love only loves,love..

So. Man up, hometeam..

Fuck what Lauryn talking bout..

That shit doesn't have to hurt, for it to feel good...

that shit is called sadomaschism, and if that's yo shit, fuck it, you're a sexual deviant, but hey--who isn't?

I'm kidding..that's  horse orgy fucked up, stop that shit..

Unregardless, whether she blind-sided you, you saw it coming, or it was completely your fault...

Brainfart thinks you're a good dude...Even if you haven't always been a good dude,you can be a good dude..

Shit! You can be whatever brand of dude you wanna be!

Cause she's gone--mind, body, and spiritual presence...

Which means, you sir, are free..

Reborn..

Romantically Reincarnated...

Fuck it up, as you please..

It always feels so good to come out of hangover...

The Breakup Monkey, is a much heavier dude to get off your back..

But, you shook him, none the less..

Now you know....Don't you play 2nd banana to nobody!

It's time, take back the night fellas....

Breakup Hangover pt. 2 pre-hatin,watchaphobia, and other shit..

So, last time  we met-- you had just broke up with her...

You weren't showering, brushing your teeth, or even wiping your ass right.... 

I finally got you to go outside, and there you were; wandering the earth-- looking, feeling, and acting like a really big pussy...

Here we are.

You got, like 54% of your nut's function back.. You're almost thinking about using em...

But, where's the bellboy?

You still walking around with that baggage..

No?

You don't hold your pillow,while you let out a wounded puppy's cry,  and listen to lauryn hill any more?

So proud of you, but she's still there..

I know. You can't smell her, don't talk to her, can go a whole day without thinking about her, and yet......

You're finally out and about....

You're showering, and maybe even ironing your shirt before you go out now...

At the bar, and finally.....

An opportunity presents itself......

Your intro is seamless..

The convo is smooth...

You move to privacy, and you remember how exciting this is.....

BAM!

Some skallywagg, who slightly resembles your ex's body type walks by, and you flinch, like Kimbo Slice sneezed right in front of you.

Shorty, now, eyes wide open... finds anything to tell you(her girls,her ride, anything)... She might still give you her number.. But, after she gets up, all you're gonna think about is what a jackass you just were, and try to explain it, and make it worse..... 

She's not gonna respond to your calls,texts,emails...Drink some prune juice..l.t.s.g.*

But, what happened to you is called Watchaphobia.

You think this girl is around every corner you bend.. But, what you're not realizing, is you want her to be around that corner.

So, though you say you're good. You've moved on..Nah..

You're moving on..

But, it takes time.. 

The reason you have watchaphobia, is because of something girls do, called pre-hatin..

See, by the time she realizes that this ship has sailed, and both of you are about to jump in the ocean....She's already trying to fuck up the rest of your life... How can she do that if I'm not with her?

Right. She can't...

But, she can say the coldest, most fucked up shit she can think of; to try to give you complexes about the man you are...and can be...

You know how when you know someone after a certain amount of time,you know what to do to piss them off? Like, it's real easy, if you know the person..

Well, all throughout you're relationship, if you were mad-you knew exactly what to say to get her to your level, right?

She did it to you too... I know, dude, I know..

Not the point..

The point is, even though she did it to you too, no matter how mad she got, she saved the really good stuff.. Whether it's true or not.. Whether she even really believes it or not... She's gonna tell you when it's over.. She might call it closure...

But, dammit, we call it pre-hate!

And it can stick with you, if you let it..

Every woman was born with a degree in psychology... How they choose to use that degree, remains up to the individual...

Bottomline, if you take what your ex tells you on your way out the door to heart......

Hometeam, it's gonna be a looooong bachelor period for you... And I don't mean that in a good way...

I mean, you can develop hangups, from relationships, like fucking child trauma..

My homeboy was a brilliant artist;his work marinated across gallery walls...getting paid handsomely for his love....

And his muse...well, when they stopped seeing eye to eye.....

She told him he was a fraud.... and that he was conning people, by making a shitload of money on overhyped crap.

He listened to her...

Out of respect? maybe.

Out of habit?probably.

Out of hope?most likely.

He hoped, that when she began the sentence....that, even if she wasn't going to say, "we can make it work", that she was going to tell him she knew how big a mistake she was making...

Or, how great a man he was, despite their differences.

Yeeeah, but she didn't.

She dulled the blade, and put it in with precision.. She probably practiced.....

Because she knew it might be her only shot to guarantee, that he would never be happier, than the last time she made him happy...

And then there are those of us, who know that the fucked up shit she said is true...

On the money, true... Like, we want her out of our freakin head true, true.

All this time you thought she could never see that, and here she is, calling yo ass out..

"you thought I didn't know about;" her, that other bank account, your gambling debt, your drinking problem, your mommy/daddy issues, you like dudes,etc.

Now what?

You thought nobody, not even her, knew your secret.. But, she does, so other people must be able to see it too. Not only that, but who did she read the contents of your diary to? The diary you never kept, but she kept for you...Oooooo.. I know, it's a dangerous thing, this "love".

So, you're fucked up now right? Cause the mutual people you know, might know,and blah,blah,blah...

You're being an idiot...

Unless, you really are some kind of traveling freak show...

In which case, you should probably relocate..

But,for real, it's not like she doesn't have her quirks,and moments she would prefer were forgotten.. And, I'm sure if you were so inclined, you could tell her friends what she really thinks about them..

But why?

It's like the KKK...If you hate the darkies so much.....why expound all of your energy toward what they are doing? Is that hate? I've heard hate defined as, "warped love"......

Which is why pre-hatin is so brilliant....

She plants the seed, and you do all of the harvesting.....

But, we don't really need that bellboy anymore do we?Save yourself the $5 tip....

These days we're packing light.. Any drunken, random; text, or voicemail, where she is popping her shoulder out of the socket, reaching for some way to knock you off course....

You're laughing that shit off now....

Don't even feel the need to respond with that sick, witty, cruel one-liner you just thought of...

Sittin back with a chilled glass of prune juice...

You know your shit stanks....

And you know everyone else's does too..Even the pretty ones...

*l.t.s.g.:let the shit go

Anyway, you're about there, I'm not gonna front dude, I'm digging how fast you're coming along.. But, I only gotta few more things I gotta tell you, before I can sleep feeling good about you out there macking and attacking. So, stay tuned for the final chapter of Breakup Hangover Helper... Alright, man. Holla den.. 

Spoiled Soldiers.. intro..

From Brainfart: Alright, this is the intro, and that's all you get for free!

SPOILED SOLDIERS

"yo, homeboy, you got a light?"

I had a light.

"well, can I use it, then?"

 

I let him use it.

Fuckface can't get it to work. I knew he wouldn't be able to..

But he don't wanna let me do it, he gotta show me he can light my lighter..

I'm not asking no more, as I go to grab his coat, many dudes rush this asshole with my lighter.

Before I can even see, I'm on the ground looking at like 17 dudes doing a timberland merry go round on this kids face..

I try to say something  about my fucking lighter.Right about the time the kid wasn't moving, and wasn't any fun to stomp no more..that shit looked personal,wonder what he did?.. i could've walked away without my lighter and gone about my day.. but I ain't ready to quit smoking.

I jump up the wall in to the park.. just to get one last look..... show nuff, out of the corner of my eye, i saw the beaten kid, still holding my lighter on the ground... one wild boy caught me with a  rock to the head, that got me on my ocho cinco, I was gone! One, by one, they all started  jumping the wall, and running up the hill after me... and all I'm trying to figure out is...yeah, you got it, i know..

Hopping fences, cutting corners, feverishly trying to gain a step... fuck, I swear I just almost yakked my heart up...these guys are big, if I can keep it going for...... a park ranger lookin like Smokey in a pick up truck,checking the commotion.. I hear sirens, the dudes slow up , but two of them are still like 5 steps back.. I yell to smokey to pick up the pace, and I sprint to catapult myself in the back of his truck...

This is not a permanent solushhah! One of  dudes hanging off the truck chokin the shit out of me!! I'm trying to get him off me........kidding.  Naw, so I jump in the truck and Smokey gets me to the other exit of the park.. He stops and hops out real quick, he wanna know why a wild pack of thugs was chasing me through the park, gonna hold me til blue eyes gets across the park.. His homie rolls past in another pick up.. This new dude was a little late..slow,dumb,right on time..

He got his ipod on, and smokey telling him "you are such a fucking peon, Bramble".. And Bramble just laughs and puts his headphones back in and drives away...right then, I snatch smokey's keys, still in his hand, and throw them in the back of Bramble's pick up.. Smokey chases, yells for Bramble to stop. But, Bramble thinks Smokey is playing and speeds away, with that dumb ass chasing his keys.. i peep cops, I get ghost..

Cab..

Head back to where the stupid fucking kid asked me for my lighter.

Right when we're coming to the spot, the kid rolls over the hood! Bloodied and fucked up, he got the lighter in his hand!  Cops grab him, I roll down the window,to try to snatch it somehow.. Fuckface flings the thing in the air, like 2o ft. Light turns green, cab starts going, cops are kicking the cab.  It lands in a sea of people, cops, and horses.. Cab dude won't let me out, too dangerous, he's on parole.. Gotta get that lighter..

But, I ain't jumping out no cab doing 50 down 7th avenue..

Once we're past 5oth, he says, he'll let me out at the next green light. Doors are locked anyway.. Ends up being 28th, before we hit a red.. He unlocks the door once I pay him. I sit back and tell him to take me to 14th between 1st and second.

Going to this really strange spot called "the perm.."

All the bartenders have like amy winehouse, marge simpson hairdos...so, i don't know why they call it the perm, but whatever.. 

Gotta meet with Coach, my high school basketball coach. He gave me that lighter.

When he first caught me at a house party, drinking and smoking he tried to kill me..

And then he gave me a ride home, and gave me that lighter.. "that is a very valuable lighter. if you're really a smoker, you'll hold on to that thing forever. if you lose it, you have to quit. and at some point,I'll tell you how the lighter--will set your dreams on fire"

He went on to tell me that whoever had it, had power. But not like the mask. They "had power they don't know they have."  

I told Coach he was full of shit! I almost lost it like ten times by graduation.. But, no really positive, life changing shit happened, besides not getting killed.. That kid was holding the lighter,and he got mallywhopped.. What kind of power is that? That he had the strength to chuck my lighter in the air, as the cops slammed him against a row of cabs on central park south?  

And now.. I sit here at a table, with two new castles between me and coach..

And he's looking at me....

He already knows.. And he ain't even giving me the "you know you done fucked up" face.. He's tight,nervous,like life threatening paranoid..just his eyes moving.. never turning his head to scan the room.. He always sits in this seat, where he faces half the room, and can see the rest behind him with the mirrors. No one had a full view of his face, but he always had a clear view of the front door.. That young, Harlem Malcolm shit, always watching the door. 

"I asked you to do one thing for me. One. Out of all the shit I've gotten you out of!

From report card upgrades, to hotel rooms for your mini groupies to,to retros the day they came out. And an,an, an extra pair for you to grind off on ebay. and don't forget the juice boxes.."

I wince.

"I got you your championship senior year."

"Yeah, one fucking year." He wasn't done with the other thing, "yeah, you remember them juice boxes, don't you boy. I  remember the first and last lunch I ever made you.. when you moved in the summer before your junior year."

I remembered. Shit finally hit the fan with my uncle. The government says he is not allowed to kidnap lunch crowd people off the street in midtown, and sell them back to corporate america wholesale.  He's gonna be in jail for a while, they seized his life. But, he set up accounts they don't know about.. So, he put me under the watch of his business partner, Coach. They've been friends since..  Anyway, coach's crib was stupid. I had my own wing, and he was at Perm most of the time, so right off the bat, for a little dude I was chilling..

My uncle worked at home, and even though anything goes, it was hard to bring girls around my uncle.. See, he has two heads..

Yeah, two, like the other body is inside him, so it's like a bigmac person..

But, one of the heads chose to be a pastor. His name is pastor.

And, well the other head chose to be a pimp...

So, I call him uncle. But, everybody else calls him PastorPimp..

The heads don't agree on much politically. 

But, style, taste in cars, women, and a whole lot of food, all seem to link up...

oops.. Yeah, and money..

Which is why he got locked up, which is why Coach became my guardian, which is why i'm trying not to sweat bullets sitting two crown and gingers away from Coach,and somehow I just ruined my future,but I can't truly understand the magnitude...or some shit Uncle Coach says.

I pull out a fuzzer, and light a sorry ass match to it.

He flicks it out of my mouth, shooting sparks and shit. 

"Fuck you coach!" I say, sweeping sparks off of my shirt and pants.

"No, boy you just fucked us all. unless you can track down that lighter... But, that's just you running around the street with your dick out, hoping it falls in the right place. It's gone, all i asked was that you kept that thing safe. Gave you absolutely everything you wanted,just keep it safe. No job, no family biz even. Just fuck off with your crew and hoops, and broads, and clubs and bud.. That's your life, the dream one you asked for. One thing. So, you don't smoke no more, right fuck face?"

He put a juice box, and an apple on the table, like when I was in highschool. He gave me a pained grin and got up, to go do some business in the office.

He didn't have to "make my lunch" anymore, this was just to let me know that even though the lighter is a big deal I'm not getting merked over it.

I take the top off the apple, just like back in the day, a zip of something fruity.. think it's olivepit kush. and the juice box...a knot of 5 stacks($5000).

It's just a fucking lighter. He likes to fuck with people, especially me. So, he's been laughing his ass off at my expense for over a decade.

Got me believing some myth he made up. 

Some myth he made up. Some myth he made up?

Yeah, it's bullshit..

Says me..

Please come back to catch glimpse 2 of 3 ....Spoiled Soldiers

Breakup Hangover Helper(take back the night fellas!)pt1

the morning after....

blink the sting out of your eyes,wow,how they burn.. 

It takes you a second to realize, as you're more concerned with the taste of dry, dirty sock in your mouth.....

I'm single again... 

As wonderful a blessing being single again is.....

There is a difference between not having a girl, and being single..

We want the latter.. being single, means the possibilities are endless!

Not having a girl, means you somehow tricked some poor girl in dealing with your drama for a year and change.. Then, one day she bucked up, and became a ghost..gone..

And now, your sorry ass can't get the same trick to work twice..

So we won't be that lame,lonely, one trick pony..

But, don't worry..

You don't have to take off the bathrobe just yet....

First, you gotta flush all that old relationship out.. Otherwise, you risk what is called, an ex-girl to new-girl transference, or "past pu##y transference.."

This is where you trip on your new girl for shit your old girl did.. Now, this condition is often seen from females, but guys you know some of you do it too.. It's lame, and unfair.. Nobody's perfect so let them do their own fucking up. They'll be plenty, and you'll forget all about what's her name's drama.

Anyway, it might take you a second to hit the scene. You wanna listen to the saddest songs on your ipod..Neglect bathing, and contact with your boys.. Swear your sick, and miss too many days from work.... But I ask you? Is any of that bringing her back? Ask Mikey, from Swingers... She won't come back until you have gotten yourself back together.. Why? i don't fucking know, it's just the way it is... But, the funny part is, once you've gotten it together, you could give a shit what she's doing.. Kick Murphy in the nuts, not me.. It's just the way it is..

In part 2 of Breakup Hangover Helper, we will be discussing; ex-games,watchaphobia, and tips on how to reduce "past pu##y transference.."