Good morning

4 hours sleep. No problem. That's plenty!

Caffeine??

Congratulations. Well done.

New host: Trever Noah @The Daily Show

Hello

An entirely different (class)room

I never got into Timothy Leary. He believed you reached a higher consciousness with LSD. I couldn't disagree more. Whatever  realm you find yourself in on LSD is an altered state of delusion, not consciousness. Certainly not awareness. 

In my teens and 20's I went through my experimental drug phase. Nothing good came out of it. I couldn't hold a pencil, or focus, and every sentence I typed was nonsensical to the steady mind, especially the following morning.

If the nerves in your body are willingly disconnected from their intentional design, how can you logically explain emotions, feelings, cause and effect?

Without logic, it's madness and chaos. Which I believe was the end result of Leary's studies and career. Leary never bothered to argue his drug state of mind with a sober one. Others did it for him and he objected strongly, and irrationally, confused, illogically, egotistically, like a drug addict. "How dare you question me!"

Im sober when I write, draw, and create. Always. The next morning I might have a secondary thought contrary to the previous and make a note of it. The construct makings of philosophy. 

All the great philosophers still being quoted today (Gandhi, Plato, even His Holiness the Dalai Lama) while they may have a heightened understanding of human architecture, they don't live in this world. Our world. This world of superficial ownership, and disconnect. 

A few years ago...

T and I were at Ralph's (grocery store) one afternoon, standing in line. All the lines were long that day. I forgot something. I left T in line with our cart and went down an isle in the store. When I came back, T was yelling at a few people in line ahead of us. Apparently the woman getting her groceries scanned, ended up being a few dollars short. The woman was desperately trying to decide what items on the conveyer belt she could momentarily do without, but most of the items were diapers, baby formula, baby wipes, food, etc. And rather than helping the woman by just giving her the money, the people in line ahead of T started making annoyed comments like, "C'mon already!" And "I have to be somewhere!" T gave the woman the money, and then called the people in line ahead of us a few "choice" names, just as I returned to the line. 

"These assholes! Getting rude with this woman. She's got baby formula and diapers, kids at home! It's not like she's scamming anyone. She was $3 short. Big deal. Give her the money!"

And even if she was scamming, let's just say for sake of argument there's a huge demand for black-market diapers...

Why not just give the woman the money? If not for kindness, than as momentary ambassadors of peace management at the Ralph's grocery store.

I believe violent thoughts are trained. There are alternative ways of thinking besides alcohol and narcotics. Perhaps we've just forgotten.

I get pissed off. Attitudes. Blatant disregard of others. Me. Me. Me. I'm special. I'm someone. Look at me. 

But instead these people fussed over their importance, like they were standing in line to get into a Vegas nightclub. "Don't you know who I am!"

I don't blame guns, or the gun makers. I blame the people who pull the triggers. 

Where are they coming from? How did they get to this breaking point? 

Even IF they were on drugs, how did they get to THAT point?

What bothered me more than the fact those people rather complain than help, is that those people were our age, mine and T's. 

Not rich. Not poor. We had a little money. 

What's that saying... 

A little goes a long ways. 

Imagine: Gen X honor slayings

If you read this blog, or know me (if only but a grain) I am philosophically/script-hand inspired by authors like Kerouac, and Bukowski.

I'm not alone.

(Michael) Ginsberg, is a character in Mad Men. A copywriter for Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce. 

Sallas, Directed the 2012 film ON THE ROAD with (everyone! IMDB it) a Kerouac novel.

Krokidas, directed the 2013 film KILL YOUR DARLINGS with (everyone! IMDB it) a Kerouac based novel 

And in reading these books, as a young girl, I felt/feel a freedom, life would be empty without.

It's about freedom.

 

My point being...

Aside from the dumb title "beat generation" that era was huge for literature and sexuality. Back then, being gay (male or female) was a crime. You could murder someone and claim it an "honor slaying" because they were trying to force homosexuality upon you. Feared so, was being gay, you could get away with murder.

Today, my generation, the useless "me-generation", would declare "honor slayings" just trying to get on the 405 freeway!

"He was trying to force homosexuality on me! He had to die!"

Really? Right here? At the foot of the Sepulveda/Santa Monica, onramp? Interesting. We experienced 78 other similar cases of "honor slayings" coincidentally both here, and at the intersection of Ventura Blvd. and Coldwater Canyon, between 7-8:30am, Monday-Friday.

If you want to experience something all you have to do is live. Just live. Be.

But I can't say that publicly, anywhere, safely, meaning nothing in particular, without 500 desperate couples from here to Tennessee, trying to get into a "unicorn" three way. 

Christ.

It's amazing to me how many people can't just say, "Let's hang out sometime."

Instead they pitch, and pitch, and pitch. 

Ladies, if you want to experience a "unicorn" three way? Be one. Be the unicorn. That's the fastest and easiest way to feed your pussy heroin junkie need. 

Oh...

If you're truly bisexual, that is, and not just doing it for him.

Or...

Just be happily married. If it's not broke, don't fix it. And if it is broke, this ain't the way to fix it.

I read what some people are saying. 

We're going backwards. 

Can you feel it?

women bashing

Anytime I get pissed off at a woman, I just sit next to a group of women at Starbucks, or anywhere, and listen to them bash women in general. When I get sick of listening to it, I get up and leave.

Best therapy ever.

Anytime I get pissed off at a guy, I just sit next to a group of women at Starbucks, or anywhere, and listen to them bash men in general. When I get sick of listening to it...

Your best inner feature

They only time they're truly useful.

Donate your organs. Now a feature on your smartphone.

I'm allergic to penicillin. Send all your jokes here

I'll love you when you're dead

Promise. Leave my phone number with one of your contacts. Have them call me after you're dead and buried. I'll love and admire you like you've never been loved and admired. I'll write praise of your brilliance, and of my passion for you I could never deliver in person.

I'm near the conclusion this is the only way I can love anymore. When I think of past rendezvous, I feel terrible. Awful. I wish they never happened. No. Not regret. Just dumb ideas. I'm filled with dumb ideas. Sadly, I have even more dumb ideas, than good ones. It's not you. It's me. I'm mad at myself. This is how/why people go crazy and then fall into deep depressions. We know what we're doing is stupid, but we keep doing it anyway because it feels good, at the time, or so we/I think. Live in the moment. That's my credo.

Be that as it may, I think I'm learning (something).

I haven't done anything stupid in a while.

From in between the pages of SATORI IN PARIS

"Well this old gal was the wildest lay imaginable. How can I go into such detail about toilet matters. She really made me blush at one point. I shoulda told her to stick her head in the "poizette" but of course (that's old French for toilette) she was too delightful for words. I met her at an afterhours Montparnasse gangster bar with no gangsters around. She took me over. She also wants to marry me, naturally, as I am a great natural bed mate and nice guy. I gave her $120 for her son's education, or some new-old parochial shoes. She really done my budget in. I still had enough money the next day to go on and buy William Makepeace Thackeray's Livres des Snobs at Gare St.-Lazare. It isn't a question of money but of souls having a good time. In the old church of St.-Germain-des-Pres that following afternoon I saw several Parisian Frenchwomen practically weeping as they prayed under an old bloodstained and rainroiled wall. I said, "Ah ha, les femmes de Paris" and I saw the greatness of Paris that it can weep for the follies of the Revolution and at the same time rejoice that they got rid of all those long nosed nobles, of which I am a descendant (Prince of Brittany)."

- Jack Kerouac   

 

We could have been happy. For a while.

I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.

Great things are not accomplished by those who yield to trends and fads and popular opinion.

My fault, my failure, is not in the passions I have, but in my lack of control of them.

 

-Jack Kerouac

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Of all his photos, this one below I relate to the best. Small town kid.

 

 

 "... and nobody, nobody knows what's going to happen to anybody besides the forlorn rags of growing old, I think of Dean Moriarty, I even think of Old Dean Moriarty the father we never found, I think of Dean Moriarty.”

 

-Jack Kerouac

 

 

You know me well!

From in between the pages of AND THE HIPPOS WERE BOILED IN THEIR TANKS.
By Jack Kerouac, and William S. Burroughs.

Page 100

I asked Agnes if she would join us for dinner but she said no, she was broke. I said, "On me," and she still said no. She was always like that. So I said good night and walked out.

The others were standing in the street in front of the house.

I said, "Agnes wouldn't come for dinner because she is broke. Some people have some pride."

Philip said, "People get silly ideas."

"Yeah," I said, "but you're an artist. You don't believe in decency and honesty and gratitude. Where shall we eat?"

The only public place I've poo'd

Disneyland. In the women bathroom of course. Not just aimlessly around some corner.

Dear inventors. Two suggestions.

1. Mascara lubricant. A few drops in any tube of mascara. Just a thought. For when mascara starts to dry.

2. Purse size air freshener. Men don't care. But ladies do. I can't poo in public toilets, but not all ladies  have this problem. A little before usage spray would be lovely.

Thanks in advance!

I'm quasi conservative

I believe in propriety. Knife in one hand, fork in the other. Ladies, legs crossed under the table beneath the knee. Etc. Etc. When my friends and I Sunday Brunch, we dress for the occasion. Flip Flops are for the beach, checking the mail, and Starbucks, not for dinner, not even at Cheesecake Factory! Not even at the Cheesecake Factory, in MDR!

Pride. It's not just for gay people.

"Does that have gluten in it?"

Shut up. Yes. It does. You sound like an ass. Go away.

If you think $25 is too expensive, then you shouldn't be here. It's not for you. Leave. Don't complain and then stay. No one wants your company.

And while all this may seem snobby, it's not.

I've left dates at bars, restaurants, before ordering just a second drink, because they didn't tip (enough), or didn't hold the door open for the person who got there at the same time we did, or said something so unbelievably rude it's amazing he's still alive!

Social media is a great place to vent. To be whoever. Because you (reader) choose to be here.

And I choose to use this platform to make fun of people who say idiotic things like this, "I have children, how do they expect me to pay that price?!"

Uh-huh. So what (you're) saying is, it's their fault you have children? Gotcha. You're fucking stupid. I hope we never meet. I don't want to breath your stupid air, or get your stupid on my clothes.

My pro-choice, pro common sense, pro equality, pro liberty and justice for all, prevents me from being a Republican.

Having said that...

Stop blowing your nose in restaurants! There are people trying to enjoy their meals without hearing your snot!

Jeb?

I'm liking this guy more and more. I don't like any of them. Jeb, annoys me the least.

Woman in Gold

Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer, by Klimt, is not my type of art, but the story behind this portrait is truly amazing. You can rent 'Woman in Gold' via red box, just to get a taste of what that painting, and the rightful owner of that painting, went through in hopes of being reunited. Both portrait and owner went through war, and laws of two continents.

Love, or money. Maybe one day we all can agree which is more important.

I'm attracted to European men for their...

Countries sophisticated art, history, and culture. As a little girl, their history struck a chord with me, that still remains. If European men are not semblances from which they are born, the interest in them is superficial at best. It is what attracts people of one nation, to people of another.

North America, being the "new continent" has no history other than fearing all, imprisoning all, and murdering all. And while World Wars, ripped other countries across oceans bit by grain, today there is a rightness and preservation being fought for.

Americans need learn by their example.

And...

Never allow a man like Donald Trump, into our presidency.

The greatest power in America, is us, the citizens.

Don't be so quick to give up your power.

I'm almost entirely Asian

I just like to be Caucasian, with my Caucasian friends.

I remind you of WHO??

Some years ago, my girlfriends and I were madly in lust with this couple we called "The Beautiful Couple". They were regulars where my girlfriends and I worked. We saw them (approximately) twice a week.

The Beautiful Couple, were both blonde hair, blue eye'd Vikings from Finland. They were gorgeous. Chiseled. Natural beauties. My girlfriends and I text each other every time they walked through the doors just so we could look at them, admire them, hand in hand, smiling big perfect white smiles, hair flowing like supermodels, flawless skin, Adones-like marble statues. Gorgeous. Couldn't understand anything they said, but they liked the attention we gave them, and we loved giving it to them.

Then one day...

He started coming in alone. No gorgeous girlfriend.

It seems...

She was cheating on him and got pregnant.

They broke up.

My girlfriends and I never saw them again.

The end.

Way to fuck up a perfectly happy European couple, America!
Many years later...

As in a year ago, August, 2014...

I met another couple who I call The Beautiful Couple (II).

The Beautiful Couple II, are a beautiful Jewish couple with the best sense of humor! I adore them!

Slowly but surely I'm getting to know them. I found out they're Jewish because she rather loudly and jokingly threatened to divorce him, and he said to me, "Don't be afraid (Simone) this is how Jews talk to each other!"

Long story short, one day they started calling me their beautiful girl, and in return I call them The Beautiful Couple (II). To which, I was very flattered, until TODAY when...

He said, "You remind us of an actress but when she was younger!"

Gong Li? I get Gong Li, a lot. She played Hatsumomo, in 'Memoirs of a Geisha'.

"Who's Gong Li?!" The Beautiful Couple II, asked. I then go on to explain who she is.

Now, before I continue with my story...

 

Minor detail, I have an overbite. Slight. Not like sexy hunk, Guy Pearce, but similar. His is more prominent, and why he hardly smiles in pictures. He's so sexy. Anyway, I feel my overbite extended more on the left side of my mouth, so when I smile I tend to raise that that side of my smile more, making my smile crooked. Sometimes I like to walk around completely overlapping my top row of teeth over my bottom lip. People seriously get out of your way when they think you have buck teeth. I guess buck teeth=shotgun? Try it some time!

And so...

The Beautiful Couple II, said, "You remind us of this actress because of your teeth, smile, and energy.

Huh. No clue who they meant.

I'm burning the gears in my head trying to think of an Asian actress with an overbite, or buck teeth.

"Is she American?" I asked.

"Yes. Absolutely." The Beautiful Couple II, reply.

There aren't many American Asian female actresses, anywhere, so I have no idea who they're talking about.

Who are you talking about?

 

The Beautiful Couple II, then asks, "Do you know who Ellen Barkin, is? You remind us of Ellen Barkin!"

Ellen Barkin!!

 

 

First of all, she's 61. I don't really have a problem with that part. She looks fabulous for 61. But I'm not 61 goddamnit!

Second, and a little more important, she a blonde white woman! I remind you guys of a 61 year old blonde white woman??

"When she was younger! When she was younger!" The husband specifies.

 

That doesn't make her any less of a blonde white woman!

 

 

 

 

Ok. I can totally see the resemblance in THIS picture. It's my morning selfie!

 

 

 

You two are awesome! I so enjoy our visits!

 

I see more blogs inspired by The Beautiful Couple (II) in the near future!

 

Exactly. Hey guys, remember when

Some crazy female fan stole Dmitry Nikolaev's testicles? Then dumped him in a bus stop!

Ashley Madison, doesn't sound so bad now, does it!

That crazy woman lead Nikolaev, to believe they were going to have sex, spiked his drink, took him to her sauna, made out with him until he passed out, then stole his testicles! He woke up in a bus stop, bleeding!

You could have had your testicles stolen!

Is Dmitry Nikolaev, still married?

Initially he didn't want to tell his wife his nuts had been stolen.

Umm...

I think she would eventually notice.

FYI: I've read a million medical books! I saw that messed up quasi-snuff film of that guy turning his testicles into a vagina. Wow! Also, I saw the movie 'Hard Candy' with Ellen Page. Furthermore, Lorena Bobbitt, 1993! Need I say more??

My point: if ever I, or any females, ever say to you, "Hello. I'm a fan. Want to meet me for a drink and make out in my sauna?" (And yes, I do have a sauna!) Just say NO!!! Stay with your wife!!! Don't be like Dmitry Nikolaev, and wake up in a bus stop with your testicles missing!

My point: You don't know me. When people write, "We/I really want to meet you!" Initially my reaction is; why?? You don't know me. I'm already afraid of you. You sound a little too excited and eager! Plus, you don't know me! I could steal your testicles! What the hell is wrong with you people?

Sounding overly happy, eager, and/or excited to meet, scares me.

Just be normal.

Pussy heroin.

Did they ever catch that woman???

(Simone) afraid.

Time to update my mace.

Fuck it. Let's be reality SMURFS

Reality SMURFS!

16 and pregnant Smurf

Naked and afraid Smurf

My big fat fabulous Smurf

Dog the bounty Smurf

Breaking Smurf Amish

Extreme Smurf-over

Queer Eye for the Straight Smurf

Pimp my Smurf

Gene Simmons family Smurfs

American Ninja smurf

Snoop Dogg's Smurf-hood

The next iron Smurf

Haha! Aramis!!

I lost Aramis, after texting Nirvana's, 'rape me' song.

Or...

Maybe it was the emoticons I attached with it!

I suck at cut and paste

Maybe the 7 version can help me.

South Park is totally gay. Not bi. Not bi comfortable!

                       MR. GARRISON
                         What the hell is going on??

                                     CARTMAN
                         You wish you were gay, Craig! In you
                         dreams!!

                                     CRAIG
                         I'm not just gay, I'm a catamite.

                       
                                     CARTMAN
                         ...So? I'm half bisexual!

                                     MR. GARRISON
                         Oh, stop it!! You kids don't even know
                         what you're talking about!! Eric, you're
                         not half-bi!!

                                     CARTMAN
                         I'm like, a quarter-bi. My grandpa was
                         bi, so that makes me quarter-bi.

                                     MR. GARRISON
                         WHAT??

               [Nighttime. Mr. Garrison and Mr. Slave walk down the street.]

             
                                     MR. GARRISON
                         It was the crazies thing I've ever seen,
                         Mr. Slave. All the children were suddenly
                         acting like being gay was cool. I mean,
                         maybe we're not the only gay couple
                         in town anymore.

                                     MR. SLAVE
                         Oh, Jethuth Chritht.

You rather he have sex with her?

Sooooooo let me see if I understand this correctly. You rather your husband have sex with her, than be platonic friends with her, because in your mind he won't "cheat" or leave you, so long as sex is involved.

Huh. Interesting.

What if she gives better head than you? Or he enjoys having sex with her more than you? I guarantee you he's coming back for more with or without your approval/knowledge.

But a motorcycle ride? He can do that with anyone.

But if you think your husband won't enjoy sex more than a motorcycle ride...

Hi-five Mister! You're a very smart man!

Communication!

Smartphone can't auto correct "communication". Maybe the 6 version can.

Pimps & Ho's

Not talking about Halloween costumes, although I did see the (ever so popular) Wonder Woman, costume filling the racks. Speaking of racks, I love the flat chested girls who don the busty WW heroine guise. Hmmm. Something's missing. Can't quite put my finger on it.... ? 

B-cup = flat chested. I'm a 38B cup, natural, and flat chested. I missed being a C-cup by this much. Goddamnit! Whatever. I accept it. Thought about breast enhancements but at my age, I just want to have fun. I couldn't care less if the camera loves big boobs more. So do I!

No, what I'm talking about are these lovely industry emails I get (supposedly by the wife) of industry couples...

"The wife, here... We really want to meet you... I, the wife am super uber relidiculoudly bisexual!!... Please meet us, and get to know us!!!" etc. etc.

To which I respond, "Nice. Thanks. I'm not bisexual. Happy hunting."

Which you would think would end cmumication right there, but no.

"Are you into women at all????... We're really interested meeting you!!!... I'm almost entirely lesbian, I only like fucking my husband!!!... " etc. etc.

"Almost entirely lesbian, but..."

Hahaha!!!! My bull dyke Hairdresser LOVES industry wives who say that shit!!

Look, I'm into meeting cool, sexy, fun couples, but don't pitch me.

I don't care who you work for. Playboy. Vivid. Blaaaaaaaah. I turned down HBO "single female swingers" documentary nonsense, so there's a 99.99999% chance I'll turn you down too.

Radio? Who listens to radio????

Anyway, look...

Be yourself. Be real.

Don't be a pimp, and send out your ho's.

Unusual activity

I don't know. Google seems concerned. "In event of unusual activity... "

Question: Do you guys read my blog? It's all unusual.

And the dogs continued sniffing butts

9/11, the greatest tragedy of my lifetime. May it be the only one. Estimated 2,996 murdered by terrorists. Yesterday was a day of silence. Remembrance. 24 hours of unanswered text messages and phone calls. Today I'll respond. I'll respond to all (but one) text messages.

If you seriously can't go one day without receiving immediate instant text gratification, than you have serious coping problems, and I'm no longer interested.

Come to think of it, I think replies can wait until Monday.

America

Never forget September 11, 2001.

Stephen! Stephen! Stephen!

Ok Ssshhhhh. Calm down. (The Late Show With) Stephen Colbert, is almost on.

Ooooh, Scarlett Johansson.

And another thing!!

You know those posts, "Looking for BBC to fuck my hot white wife!"

How are black men not offended by this??

You may as well sign up to work for Paula Deen's 'Southern Plantation Wedding'.

And another thing!

If we're going to get all touchy-feely with what other countries call their crappy pastries, then let's get offended at the English for calling cigarettes "fags".

And another thing!

CHINK is what Asians, call other Asians, who played the Japanese game Pachinko. PaCHINKo. Pachinko pinball. Chinks. Get it? It's not exactly an insult. It's only a half-assed ignorant attempt at an insult if you call an Asian a CHINK and they don't actually play Pachinko. Then you just sound like a stupid cunt. There are better Asian racist names! Christ, you people. Epic fail at racism!

See, this is where READING comes in handy, or owning a passport and traveling.

And another thing!

CRACKER isn't an insult against white people. It's what slaves called slave owners who crack the whip on slaves they owned. "Whip crackers." Cracker. And by the way, black people owned slaves too, furthermore auctioned off by black people, and those assholes were also called Crackers. But Sssshhhhhh! Apparently that's all a great big secret!!

HONKEY.

Hmm.

I actually have no idea how that one came to past.

But I sure do love calling Aramis and his hot ex-wife my cracker honkeys!

They just call me "crazy".

Which...

Isn't exactly an insult either. By definition it's a form of mental derangement.

And I just...

I just can't help it.

Medic!!

Aramis. Simone Gordon.

Not our reals names. I explain both aliases (around here somewhere.) At the time they were going through a divorce. Two amazing wonderful people. Now she's Aramis's hot ex-wife. And we're all still friends. Yay!

Now she needs a nickname.

This blog isn't for everyone.

We had to work her up to showing her...

Like your first MFM or FMF encounter, you have to work up to reading this nonsense.

I think it ranks something like...

butt sex
orgies
snowballing
wood chippers
racism
(Correction!)
No test. No condom. High risk gangbang
And then...
plaidskirttorpedoes.com

Thank you for reading.

PS if you're one of the 25 emails I "accidentally" deleted yesterday, I'm sorry sober and don't function very well in this condition. On the plus side hockey season starts soon and we all know I'm never sober during that time.

And...

She's totally a stalker now!

Emoji, rejected!

My blog rejects your emoji!

Aramis's hot ex-wife, is

Part Swedish. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. I tried calling her "Lady Honkey Von Cracker" but she got offended at the "Von" part, declaring she's not a "Nazi". I think "Von" means nobility. But Aramis's hot ex-wife can't be bought.

That's why I love her so!

That...

And she makes me laugh! 🍻🍺🍷👉👌🙈🙉🙊👍

Swedes.

"One such example of this is the chocolate ball, a kind of cake that is very popular in Sweden. Previously, in less enlightened times, these chocolate balls were called ‘negerbollar’. This translates as ‘nigger balls’ or ‘negro balls’. Understanding the offensive nature of the name, this chocolate delicacy was officially renamed some years ago. But a certain section of the population, who I am guessing are not black, hold on to their right to call them nigger balls. Yesterday, was so-called ‘negerbollen day’ on Facebook and 21 000 people had signed up their support to say ‘negerboll’. In a counter move, an organization refusing to use this title was set up claiming tomorrow as ‘Chocolate Ball Day’."

-- Neil Shipley


First of all...

Swedish cakes and candies are disgusting.

Huh. I guess I only had that one point to make.

Fuck. Yeah. 11:35pm. CBS.

Awesome. Got off a little rocky, but clearly it's still Stephen Colbert.

Stephen! Stephen! Stephen! Stephen!

Apparently they have better make-up artists on CBS. Ha!

The art of negotiation

I listen for exactly 20 seconds. Then say no. I got this!

Ego!

I don't pay attention to a lot of people! Why should he be any special?!

I don't deny anything.

It's true. He said said something. I wasn't paying attention. He got mad. I told him to get the fuck away from me. And that concluded the meeting. I really don't care. I didn't care when I got dressed that morning. And I still don't care.

Ask anyone who's ever parted ways with me.

It's a permanent condition.

Make me an offer I can't refuse!

"All the right offers, from all the wrong people?"

Or all the wrong offers, from all the right people.

OR

I just want to hang out with my friends, and read my book 'And the Hippos Were Boiled In Their Tanks' by Kerouac and Burroughs.

How can I make money doing this?

Get off my lawn!

Dismissive. Disinterested. Blaaaah.

Not interested

"He would make a lovely corpse." I've met him, his friends, and I'll have no more of either. Do what you want. You do it without me.

Aramis!!

Goddamnit honkey, let's go already!!

Why Ike

"Whatever do you mean? Maybe poker's just not your game, Ike. I know! Let's have a spelling contest!"

Why Ed

"Does this mean we're not friends anymore? You know Ed, if I thought you weren't my friend... I just don't think I could bear it!"

4 Guys. 4 Cups. Re-visited.

On Monday, July 14, 2014, I wrote a blog titled '4 Guys. 4 Cups.'

On a weekly basis since I wrote it, this is the most read entry in the two (plus) years I've been writing this blog.

At the time I wrote this blog I was in San Francisco.

In this blog I mention my friend Fabian. We've known each other a long time. I met Fabian, in San Francisco, when I was 21 years old, he was 18.

When I wrote 'Four Guys. Four Cups' a small group of life-long friends happened to all be in San Francisco.

Fabian is (probably) the funniest guy I know! He is the male equivalent of Aramis's hot ex-wife! She makes me laugh like he does. Or is it the other way around?

Today, Fabian, is a real estate agent in Miami.

Mmmmm-iami. We all know what happens in Miami. Yes we do.

And...

Fabian had the highest level of testosterone.

He probably cheated. If anyone could cheat a testosterone level test, it's Fabian!

Congratulations Google!

The new font is BRILLIANT!

And I'm not just saying that because you host my blog.

I'm not.

Seriously.

New letters... brilliant.

I love it.

Just

Love it.