I was someplace last night watching a game of poker in progress. It might have been Texas hold’em, I’m not really sure but it was a game in real life which is the only way to play it, damn the internet gaming industry that keeps spamming my blog. Part of fun is just being there in the smokey environment watching the cards get dealt out and listening to the trash talk at the table. Old school hustlers are interesting to observe but there’s no way you could have convinced me to get in on the game. I would have been eaten alive.

I think it is unconscionable that you can be prosecuted for private gambling but that the state runs a lottery and sanctions casinos for the purpose of generating tax revenue. If gambling is a crime then the state is a compound criminal for both running the business and imposing a monopoly on the practice. That’s why I like seeing a local card game or money put down on a pool game. If I win $20 on a bet I don’t have to deal with the government sticking its hand out as if they put in on this. Damn that, if I lose the $20 I’m not looking to the government to recoup my loss so if I win they’re not entitled to my money either.

That’s another reason I don’t play the lottery: I would rather if I lose a bet that my money remain in my neighborhood than to disappear into the government machine. And the odds on the Lotto are stacked in the state’s favor whereas the local guy playing me in pool or cards is matching wit against wit and even odds on the luck factor. That is true gambling rather than what the state does which is to just sit there and suck blood because there is no way for them to lose when they set the terms.

That plus if I win $20 in a pool bet I don’t have to deal with my opponent making me choose between getting paid over the course of many years or taking an immediate payout with a huge penalty. That’s worse than shady, that’s just dirty pool.

Strange Fruit!

So I’m at Leroy’s last night and there’s this dude there who is flaming, flamboyant, whatever you want to call it. We’ll say he was fancy. Well fancy-boy is singing scary-okey and got all the female mannerisms, an awful voice, and he looks gumpy. He’s the kind of guy where you go hey, if I was even thinking about being gay I wouldn’t stick nothing in that! Anyway the dude is singing terribly and flouncing around so we’re all doing the right thing which is to laugh at him. No harm done, we can all peacefully coexist as long as you understand that if you’re deviant and bizzare you’re going to get laughed at.

I play pool, play video golf and shoot the shit with the regular crowd. The “D” and I follow a pair of tits around the bar that might or might not have been attached to an entire person, I’m not sure as I couldn’t get my eyes off the breasticles. Later towards the end of the night I make a trip to the restroom. I usually leave this part of my stories out because with all the beer-drinking it’s implied and plus who wants to hear about what goes on in the pisser? But here is the where my story gets fucked up.

Any dude who’s been to Leroy’s can tell you that the bathroom has a urinal that’s about two feet wide and it’s got a stall with a toilet. Bathroom etiquette dictates that if you go in and somebody’s at the urinal then the place for you to go is the stall with the toilet. While a two foot wide urinal is technically wide enough to be used by two people at once, guys don’t normally want to stand side by side with their junk hanging out and standing too close in case somebody’s spraying gets out of hand.

If both the toilet and the urinal were occupied you might could get away with being the second guy at the urinal in the case of emergency but you would have to accompany it with an explanation like “Aw dawg I’m sorry but I gotta go now or I’ma piss on myself”, but I digress.

I’m at the pisser and this fruity guy comes in and SPITS in the urinal that I’m using. He didn’t spit from normal distance either, he bent his head down right near where I got my junk out and spit into the pisser with his head at about my waist level! Then he unzips and stands right next to me at the urinal even though the toilet stall was clearly unoccupied! I say “MOVE mothafucka, this ain’t no communal. . . ”

To my amazement, he just stands there pretending to piss as if I hadn’t said anything (we’re here, we’re queer, we don’t want any bears). This is the biggest affront. In ‘hood ethics if you directly challenge someone and they simply turn their back and ignore you, they are basically saying you ain’t @#*& and you’re not even worth a response. I should have knocked him out but short term justice can lead to long term consequences so I simply zipped up and left.

When I got back to the pool tables I immediately start telling the story to Ken and Dave. I’m not telling it quiet either because I’m outraged! As I’m telling what this mufa did, he gets right behind right when Dave says WHO? I point to the guy and say THIS MOTHAFUCKA RIGHT HERE!!

One again I describe what happened all the while pointing at the troll. I’m not talking to him but rather talking to Dave and Ken about him. At this point he says “I wasn’t trying to hit on you” (not the point) “I was -”


You see, I didn’t say anything homophobic. I’m not homophobic, I’m just scared of gay people. The guy ended up sitting down because I was giving this look in my eyes like I was about to snap. I wasn’t really going to but I know how to give that appearance and it shuts up people who aren’t willing to call your bluff.

The point was not that he’s a flame but that in bringing his activities to Leroy’s he is upsetting the social norm. We can take having George Michaels on the mic, in the restroom is another matter. That’s not the way we do things there. I would expect him to clown someone else if they were to go to a gay bar and act flamboyantly straight. What a night. I think I need some coffee.


I was reading an article in the Detroit News this morning about Detroit residents finding suburban jobs inaccessible due to transportation. It’s one of the things that struck me when I first started driving to Detroit for my job. I’d look at the neighborhoods and say where do people around here work? I’d see houses, churches, restaurants, and hairstyling places but I didn’t see any place I would care to work. Apparantly all the good jobs are in the suburbs.

I’d see lots of abandoned buildings and houses that looked like a scene from Iraq (not capping on your city “D” just trying to describe the problem.) This is the issue that was being addressed by the News article. This quote jumped out at me:

“Unregulated employment growth has social and economic consequences. It means black households are isolated from employment opportunities,” said the study’s author, Michael A. Stoll, a public policy professor at the University of California at Los Angeles.

If the blame is being placed on unregulated employment growth, I think it’s safe to assume the author is advocating regulated employment growth.

What does that mean? That companies will be require to open any new offices in the troubled areas? Or is it a tax break for those who voluntarily do so? If companies are not opening up businesses there it must be for a reason. Is it even advisable to compel business to open up shop in neighborhoods where the local Subway sandwich shop is bulletproof and even the local denizens are wary about making a trip to the corner store?

Perhaps instead of regulating business to bring the jobs there the people who live there should do what everone else did: flee. Bugging out for you own good doesn’t mean you don’t know where you came from. Perhaps you know only too well.

Flee like Barry Sanders did from the Lions when he knew they weren’t in it to win it, like Tina did from Ike. Like Nichole tried to from O.J. When unemployment, crime, and lack of good transportation are major issues what more reason do you need to look out for you and your loved ones? The Motor City is no longer a Mecca for people seeking jobs in the automotive industry. Those days are long gone and it’s time to adjust. The reason people flocked to Detroit fifty years ago is the same reason they should leave now: jobs.

Move to where the jobs are, even if you have to room with friends or relatives for a while. Malcolm X said there are two kinds of people in the ghetto: the half that works and the other half that live parasitically off the first half. That’s not a burden I would be willing to bear. Don’t stick it out waiting for the jobs to come back. They won’t. I can safely say this because the government is trying to make it happen and we all know how effective government anti-poverty programs are.

Move anywhere. Move to Lansing. It’s more multicultural here anyway. And then maybe one day when The City starts to empty out new businesses can creep in and start redeveloping Detroit block by block. And not because the government says to it but because it will one day become economically feasible.

In the News

I just thought about this. Regarding that guy who opened fire in a mall in Kingston New York, how bad a shot do you have to be to open fire in a crowded mall and not kill anybody??? Two people wounded and for all we know those might not have even been the people he was aiming at. He probably missed like 20 people and then said fuck it let me go ahead and just shoot that jewelry display case. Pop! (aaaaaaah!!) This guy needs his ass whupped and his rifle taken away! He can’t hold a candle to the Texas tower sniper.

Stevie Wonder may be called as a defense witness at the Jackson molestation trial. This is sheer genius. “I didn’t see anything!” I have no further questions. Ooh!

Three California men arrested for conspiracy to travel to Mexico to have sex with underage boys. Ok guys, it’s funny when Michael Jackson does it because he’s famous and glitter gets everywhere but when non-famous people do it it’s just gross. If you want to make molestation blog-laughable you have to at least start kicking field goals for the Dallas Cowboys first (as Russ Martin says “SUCK EET!”)

And speaking of the Jackson trial why are people trying to get excused from the jury? I’d probably get kicked off for trying my damnedest to get on. I’d want to see Stevie Wonder, Kobe Bryant, Michael Jackson, and Liz Taylor. I’d probably end up having a tawdry affair with another juror and then I’d write a tell all book. I’d be quasi famous which is the next best thing to living in O.J.’s guesthouse. No kidding here, in the short term it would be a financial hardship but at the end I would end up writing a bestseller.

My pool team played the #1 team in the league last night. The guy I played had an average so high that even though I only won one game out of three my average still went up. I don’t know how we did overall but I won my game because of a damn good safe.

I went to Augie’s last Friday and I might have to start going there more often. Leroy’s is getting thuggish and there was a fat guy fight the other night. That happened 15 minutes after Trina started playing rap. Then she got on the mic and said it wasn’t because of the rap. Yes it was. Same people in the room but it changes the very atmosphere. It’s like beating the war drums. I know because as soon as the music starts thumping I start looking for handicapped people to beat up. I don’t have anything specifically against them, it just makes it easier to win.

Gosh that sounds just terrible when I put it down in print. Oh well fuggit, I don’t feel like backspacing.


Last year I posted a link to a children’s art critic. This guy posted childrens’ drawings parents brought to work and posted in their workstations and he provided scathing criticisms basically saying how much the artwork sucked and why. I laughed because I can relate. I wouldn’t bring my childrens’ stuff to anyone’s attention unless I genuinely thought it was good.

This weekend my daughter showed me some fanfic she created based on Pokemon and Mario Brothers characters. I had to scan it and put it on a web page to present here because the stuff she does with expression impresses me. I put it on an Angelfire page so I can give some people the link who I don’t want to see the blog. It’s a bunch of panels and read the whole thing because the story lines crack me up just as much as the pictures. This is the link to the page.


From An outlandish story

HOUSTON — A 16-year-old boy was charged with shooting his father in their southwest Harris County home Friday, Local 2 reported. The shooting was originally reported as a case of domestic abuse, but deputies said the boy apparently witnessed a sexual act between his parents and thought the father was abusing the mother.

I was going to say something but what could I possibly add? Shazbot! Do they have sex ed in East Texas?

Coca Cola

When I was 15 I moved from Lansing to live at my tia Maria’s house in San Angelo, Texas. I expected a lot of changes with the move but the first shock came when my aunt refused to support my Coke habit. I would go through a two liter within a day and a half and the cost was beginning to become prohibitive. At first she started buying less and I complained. When she cut off the goods entirely, I started fiendin’ in earnest. She said I was hooked on caffeine and told me to drink coffee instead. I actually didn’t believe it was the caffeine and I argued that it was the cool, crisp taste of an icy cold Coca Cola classic that I was after. She held her ground and like I dummy I sweated out a few weeks of caffeine withdrawel when all I had to do was try coffee.

By the time of my triumphant return to civilization in 1987 I had been working enough to support my own habit and to have leftover cash. On a trip to the clothing department I happened upon a Coca Cola hat which I bought both because I thought hats were cool and wanted to represent. I was wearing that hat on a now famous trip to Riverfront Park where I met a chick named Toni Esther (this was before she blew up to 250 lbs, she used to be fine). I was hanging with my friend Tyrone and we bumped into one of his aquaintences who looked like a duck. I said what’s your name? He said my name is Guy in the UNLV Jacket. I said but you’re not wearing a UNLV Jacket. He said and you’re not drinking a Coke.

In my 20s I started drinking coffee which I toss down in copious amounts at this point in my life but I still have love and reverence for my original love, Coca Cola. I remember back when they had a million dollar prize contest if you got all the letters to spell Cola Cola under the caps. I remember their ill advised scheme to end production of the original Coca Cola formula and the introduction of the ill fated New Coke (let me drive the Edsel to the corner store and pick some up.) But most of all I remember that Coke adds life. Pepsi then, by implication, adds death. Think about it.

I truly hate people who make no distinction between Coke and Pepsi. If I ask for Coke and the waitress says “Is Pepsi all right?” I”m THIS close to making an exception to my objection to the initiation of violence. How about some pussy? Is a DICK all right? WHAT. .. THE. .. . . FUCK?????????

Perhaps I’m a little too emotionally invested in this to be unbiased on the issue. Or maybe it’s the caffeine. Who cares? Coke rules and Pepsi drools. Live with it.

This is not a paid advertisement. I did it for the love.


Cogito, ergo sum.

– Rene Descartes

I think, therefore I am. When Descartes set forth this statement he was working off his premise that one should doubt everything until it is firmly established. He ended up being certain of only one thing which is encapsulated on the above statement. Little did he know his statement would become a philosophical reference point and that he would one day end up blog-quotable.

Ayn Rand turned his statement on its head in the 20th century saying “I am, therefore I think.” It was her contention that for man as a rational being thinking is a moral imperative. The areas of logic and rationality should not be subsumed to the forces emotion and passion. Capitalism was posited as the only just economic system because in its true state you get what you earn. Money is then not an end unto itself but it is also the representation of the value of ones work product. It is also a representation of what one has achieved.

This is why so many lottery winners wind up unhappy once the initial euphoria wears off. Being the product of blind luck rather than skill their money is not a representation of their value. They did not create wealth through production or an achievement of some sort. They simply collected the wealth created by others through no skill of their own. Many have reported feeling like frauds and ending up both rejected by those in their new economic status and resented by those in their old.

Henry Ford, on the other hand, had a genuine reason to be proud. His achievement was the product of his thought. Although the cars produced on the assembly line were put together by other hands, the initial idea, the risk, and the investment were all done by him. Without his mind that first factory would not exist.

This is also why pure hedonism doesn’t work. Hedonism is the pursuit of happiness through direct means, but it is actually a by-product. Happiness is not sustained by an end product like a trophy or money, it is a product of overcoming challenges and the achievement of vicotories, whether those victories come in economics, politics, or sport.

Hell, it even comes in the field of sexual relations which is why I am totally averse to the idea of prostitution and I’m not really comfortable in titty bars. If I score I don’t want it to be because I paid cash for a ticket, I want it to be because I talked a good game. We all want the six points but I also want to remember how I kicked ass to reach the endzone.


I’s feudin’ with one of my co-workers. To be more exact I just found out about the feud and I have catching up to do. One of my co-workers with whom I used to be on good terms stopped speaking to me a long while back. For what reason, I’m not even certain but my nature being as it is I was oblivious to the fact that she was giving me the silent treatment. I just thought that she was having a bad day every day for like six months straight because she always looked angry whenever I saw her. Then about November I asked her if she wasn’t speaking to me and she just turned and stormed away. Score one for my interpersonal skills, I finally picked up on a non-verbal cue!

So now I’m reciprocating by not speaking to this co-worker who is not speaking to me. It makes work really uncomfortable since every time she walks by I have to avert my eyes and pretend she’s not there. Once I was instructed to take a document to her. I asked the student intern if she could do it “because I’m not speaking to her.” “Why?” I was asked. “I don’t know. But we’re giving each other the silent treatment and it’s become a battle and I’ll be damned if I lose!”

I think I might have an idea why she’s mad. She stopped speaking with a person in the office that had once been her very good friend. After a few months of not speaking with her former friend I went to her and offered her congratulations. She asked for what. I said “I have to give you credit, I never knew you could be this evil. So-and-so person used to be your really good friend and when you started giving her the silent treatment I didn’t think you would be able to stick it out but I was wrong. You’re way more evil than I gave you credit for. I have to give you your props.”

The funny thing is I didn’t mean it as an insult. It was my way of saying I wish you two would patch things up. But I didn’t want to sound sappy so I said it the backwards way. Rather than sparking some reflection and a change of heart she must have taken the remark as an attack on her character. My plan backfired and now I’m the bad guy.

So here I am in my cubicle today sitting here in my overalls with my shotgun and straw hat. We’s fuedin’.

Signed Document

Nice Rack pops back up out of the blue (which I’m very happy about yay!) but she seems to be under the mistaken impression that she is going to become a powerhouse and that I am going to be her lackey! In real life maybe yes but I remind you all that as far as the blog goes, I have you guys by the scruffs of your necks!! And for those who believe otherwise, need I remind you that you of last summer when you all signed a legal document stating as much?

Once again, the program is: I take over the world and proclaim myself Supreme Ruler and Unquestioned Tyrant, Ghandi is my Secretary of Defense, Phelps is my Secretary of Offense, UNLV is the Unix Administrator, Amanda is in charge of the environment with only one directive and that is that trees are bad, The Iraqi Information Minister is my official spokesman, TB is the Storm Trooper, and Nice Rack is my Minister of Jumping up and Down!

That is the program and that is the way it’s always going to be! Did you think that this document would not ever come back to haunt you??? You credulous trusting simpletons! MUHUHAHAHAHAHHAHAAA!!! HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAA!!!!!! AAAAAAAH HAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!!

p.s. ahahhaha!!! hahaahaha!! ahaa! ahaaa. . . . ha. . . . . hoooooo!