Tuesday, November 28, 2023

Hi. Where'd my popsicle go?

I am right now writing to you from the future because after reading what I wrote and it made me kind of pissed at myself but a little sad for myself too. I'm like that new puppy that you love so much and really want to bring home and love forever but now the house smells like pee, your neighbors hate you, now Jesus hates you (even more) and due to your ack of sleep, the bags underneath your eyes now lookaren't going away - see? That was dumb too. I just forgot what i was going to say again and I'm writing in the wrong place. I need to go back over....

It's very hard to write now...or, I should say that it's harder for me to write now because I write like I talk and if you were a friend of mine when I used to have friends, you'd know how hard it is/was to listen to me in real life because listening to me if you're unable to jump out of the car or you were too polite to ask for the check because I was talking to the lesbian Lizard alien couple(s) interupt me while and I'm like, five kids telling you about HERE. That made no sense.

Well, I'm not going to even bother retreading those tired, written tires that I previously tried, but now im tired of trying and I'm out of time. It's too - mulch - I mean, MUCH sometimes

And now you'll stop listening to my insistent instances of idiotic illiteration because I think it's funny and hope, for you that it's  funny to litter in the little, itty-bitt,  private park of your patience. That was Pdumb Ptoo but I pwish that it was a psaying. That was a dumb pwish...and my ppopsicle by the keyboard has melted -

Tuesday, April 04, 2023

Reading Something About Something to Someone But Torn In Half…….


s and I took 112 of them, right? Some will lead to more worry, insecurities and whatever’s but, at times certain paths - invisible or well trodden will require more sweat and for you to work different muscles in your legs and your brain and your heart and that’s a requirement for  parts of your developing SOUL (and he pointed at his head) and all those awesome choices require time, fortitude, honesty and YOUR attention then blah give me a one word answer of what I and what society approves of!” You don’t have to have the answers.  Just as long as you want to do something. Shit, take everything! All of it! It’s your turn, buddy. Just don’t screw it up like me - just kidding…heh heh. What kind of person do you feel like you are and what kind of person do you strive to be? What are you working on right now…with yourself - good or bad? The person that you are right now should always be working on a million things because being boring means you’re dead. Otherwise, you’d just be nothing and that’s kind of gross. It’s perfectly fine and actually admirable to want to do just one thing, one job, maybe even just one pair of pants - nuthin’ wrong with that.  Well, it depends on the pair of pants but it’s perfectly okay to create new opportunities because you’re supposed to and so…good.not to know what you want to be or where you’re supposed to go because because you’re a human being and we’re in our human spacesuits until we die and shuffle off this mortal coil and then say hi to Jesus or Jedi or whatever - just as long as you have goals.”

And that’s about the gist of it. I don’t remember if he said that maaaybe exactly the way that I just transcribed it here on this cracked, tiny phone, naked after a shower and muttering to myself But I’ve always remembered that quick during a couple smoked cigarettes with him and it was years ago, he was much older than I was and I was at a new step new family reunion thing and it was at his house for this Thanksgiving rotation and I guess that it hadn’t  happened before and he was the black sheep of the family because he married a gorgeous black lady and he had 50’s memorabilia and neon and jukeboxes decorated all throughout his house and his garage and he smoked Marlboro Reds and he told the family to fuck off because they were conservative fakes but he was trying to make amends and it was Thanksgiving and he said that it was perfectly fine to bum another cigarette off of him before he headed back inside and that he’d see me there and that I should stop smoking because that shit will kill ya’, and then I never saw him again. 

I’ve never had a question about you and what you were going to do after this. You’re one of those rare people that keep things moving for yourself and help keep the traffic flowing for others too because YOU ARE ENERGY. You’re not a CAR - you’ll never just be a CAR in this life - 

YOU are THE TRAFFIC! No, I take that back -  You’re the WHOLE goddamn FREEWAY. You are EVERYTHING and don’t let anything ever slow you down because this life really is pretty damn short I’m finding out so let nothing but gas pass you by…or through you. Really, Kevin? That’s how you’re going to end this? Like that? It’s okay, I’m not saying goodbye just saying an equivalent on rare occasion like tonight, you - give me a call or text if you need anything at all - text me or The Missus and you always have something even when you think you don’t.  Because she’s amazing and I’m entertaining maybe, two out of ten encounters. Be honest and be ENERGY and be yourself and you’ll always be fine. Thank you for being my friend and for trying to help me fight the good fight. Life needs YOU. Okay, bye.

Friday, March 10, 2023

Fat Free Milk is racecar taco cat taco cat racecar si kliM eerF taF

If I never wrote what you're reading right meow -

I wonder what we’d all end up writing or reading instead? Would this or whatever I wrote before this - or ANY writing - would it or something similar still be here?

Could nothing change it? Could nothing take it's space? Are created spaces eternal and non-budging, or maybe at least, ink smears?

For sure? Fo' Sho'? 4-shure?

And if it didn’t - would I now want to read what you were going to say before rather than what you wrote instead or both of them?  Or neither? 

Huh? Now I'm confused too, me! 

More. Mored confused.

What are you writing about? Edit yourself -

Okaaaaay, FINE.


Maybe I didn’t read an article that had popped up before I started writinhg this and maybe I became so sad reading of a random strangers suffering or maybe I'm still wiping my eyes with the heels of my hands, unsuccessfully stemming an unexpected flow of stinging  tears noisilyspattering the desk like baby raindrops as I type this? This. This.. . .. . .....

Sometimes life hijacks life 

and sometimes we’re better for it 

and sometimes maybe not

What’s better anyway

and in which way

and for whommmmmmm each tear drop hisses at me 

as they fall slowly 


not completely gone

shuffling off this salted Earth lives for something

for anything else

each drop evaporating off this mortal coil

And it’s totally okay, you know.

I’d rather have it this way instead. 

It’s better this way, me thinks.

I mean, not that you’d be particularly suffering the first of many inevitable Oscar the Grouchy Marxian and not Karl Men Are From Marxian spasmodic eye twitches due to reading whatever feels-electric or maybe epileptic prose was going to previously write and that by the end of THIS sentence and whatever lifted or spontaneously-created prose by now has fully dissipated into the brine that is our brains. 

Man I just fell in love with that unpunctuated and never decelerated last sentence. Probably one of my favorites I've written in a loooong time. Really. A long time, man. So much has changed. That fat free doofus from long ago. Me. Not me anymore because it was so long ago and he was kind of happy in his misery and he knew some stuff but really knew nothing, that kid - he and his boundless and wasted, ignorant energy. The ME kid from 2001 and all the years that followed. He didn’t realize that every single moment or person that you had with you or in front of you - all of them led to different lifetimes. Some of the ones that are either gone now or far, far away. They’re not yours and never will be. They’re so far away - it’s scientifically impossible to come even close to catching any slight bit of their existence. Fast, propelled, gliding, armored, wide, blotting out skies, masking whole planets…still moving while you complained or took big gulps of your wasted opportunities and retched - you should have taken baby sips and you weren’t old enough to drink that yet and maybe you aren’t now. STILL. That kid that started a blog advertised by Pyra Labs for nothing but a paltry, a measly monthly sum - more than a webpage and more customization options had me more than a tad bit smitten.

I was here before phones could die and when disco wouldn’t...

before you took your first breath
and I was here when you 
beautifully took 
your last

I was here before phones could die 
and when disco wouldn't
and I was here before that
and I’ll be here after this

I’ve grown especially wistful lately
drifting slowly
and lazy
near-still and floating
balloon-like down hallways 
in a constant state of
fogged melancholy

and moaning
of coalesced loves
and the faintly thin, distant laughter of once-close friends
reaching in vain with sinewed hands 
clawing at curled pictures 
and dusty cassette tapes left to rest in tired, rotted boxes
and aching 
for the transparent
web-like wisps 
 of my greatest, dear companions 
    of some immoral strengths and
        some of divine impurities
            all together
                   and who will always be 

                           my immortal friends


Friday, February 24, 2023

Thursday, February 16, 2023

Euglossa Bazinga

I once met a stripper named "Cinnamon" who after we were introduced and then me immediatly asking if she had a daughter named Toast and a son named Crunch? QUICKITYY-CLACKED over to a bouncer, tapped him on the shoulder and yelled in his ear, "I'm down with dances, right? With EVERYONE tonight, you know?......AND THEN POINTED RIGHT AT ME - "Everyone but...Big Bang Theory over there. Yeah Super Star Trek and shit, nope." She then slowly smoothed her hair with her palm click clack click clacked over to a table where a couple of fat guys wearing prescription sunglasses sat smoothing out invisble wrinkles out of their patterned silk pants.

Wednesday, August 24, 2022


 You feel a little bad for how much time had passed but then accept it as...

Tuesday, October 12, 2021


I really 
don't want
to write anything right now 
because sometimes when I write 
it makes my eyebrows hurt.

Monday, October 11, 2021

 “My mother's suffering grew into a symbol in my mind, gathering to itself all the poverty, the ignorance, the helplessness; the painful, baffling, hunger-ridden days and hours; the restless moving, the futile seeking, the uncertainty, the fear, the dread; the meaningless pain and the endless suffering. Her life set the emotional tone of my life, colored the men and women I was to meet in the future, conditioned my relation to events that had not yet happened, determined my attitude to situations and circumstances I had yet to face. A somberness of spirit that I was never to lose settled over me during the slow years of my mother's unrelieved suffering, a somberness that was to make me stand apart and look upon excessive joy with suspicion, that was to make me keep forever on the move, as though to escape a nameless fate seeking to overtake me.

At the age of twelve, before I had one year of formal schooling, I had a conception of life that no experience would ever erase, a predilection for what was real that no argument could ever gainsay, a sense of the world that was mine and mine alone, a notion as to what life meant that no education could ever alter, a conviction that the meaning of living came only when one was struggling to wring a meaning out of meaningless suffering.

At the age of twelve I had an attitude toward life that was to endure, that was to make me seek those areas of living that would keep it alive, that was to make me skeptical of everything while seeking everything, tolerant of all and yet critical. The spirit I had caught gave me insight into the sufferings of others, made me gravitate toward those whose feelings were like my own, made me sit for hours while others told me of their lives, made me strangely tender and cruel, violent and peaceful.

It made me want to drive coldly to the heart of every question and it open to the core of suffering I knew I would find there. It made me love burrowing into psychology, into realistic and naturalistic fiction and art, into those whirlpools of politics that had the power to claim the whole of men's souls. It directed my loyalties to the side of men in rebellion; it made me love talk that sought answers to questions that could help nobody, that could only keep alive in me that enthralling sense of wonder and awe in the face of the drama of human feeling which is hidden by the external drama of life.” 

― Richard Wright, Black Boy

Friday, October 01, 2021

My Late SE?EN Movie Review...

I expected a bouquet of 'Edible Arrangements' or at least an expired Bed, Bath and Beyond gift card in the box - not Gweneth Paltrow's HEAD.


Oh, HELLO!!!

Goddamn, I missed you all! 

I really DID! 

Holy Butts - I've seriously missed you!

I'm back good this time. 

I'm sorry that I was gone for so long but now I have more stories to tell. I know how to make this house look a little more welcoming and I need to tidy up a bit. 


I'm glad to be back.

Thursday, June 03, 2021

Reasons why humans haven't been allowed to have natural camouflage abilities

Because you'd use it to blend into the cheese section at Trader Joe's because you called  in sick  that day and just saw your boss.

Because you haven't paid to see a movie in years - you usually wait a month or so until the crowds die down and then you sit in the back corner seats. You usually prefer seat M1.

Because we would look like the walls of the bars that we drink at.

Because sometimes I'd look like Paw Patrol or Golden Girls episodes.

Because police would need thermal imaging googles.

Because you would be a pervert...or MORE perverted.

BecauseBecauseBecuzzzzzz! Becauseofthewonderfulthingshedoes!!!

Because of pee. Because of poop.

Concerts would seem empty.

Because we would look like TARGET. The store. ALL OF IT.

Friday, May 14, 2021

fat free milk blog.com

 fat free milk


fat free milk blog


Alfred Drummond...



Ghost Town



Gosling Hates This



Is he dark enough




Tibetan Jowls


The End







Lucky Cheeto


Horrible Guilty Pleasures


Lemon Dance Pants



















Angel-Headed Hipster


“We wants it, we needs it. Must have the precious. They stole it from us. Sneaky little hobbitses. Wicked, tricksy, false!”

I just erased something that I've been writing for the last hour and a half. It was about keyboards and love and about Gollum from LoTR and how happy I am and how I love my life but this is all you get right now because somebody threw the hgisfasfaasfoihasfszzz preciouszzz in the preciouzssss - DUDE. What I wrote before this is gone now and I think was very sweet. I GUESS IF I AM TYPING HERE AT THIS LATE HOUR AND IN ALL LOUDY-LOUDY BUTT CAPS and IF YOU"RE READING THIS - Dude, DOOD - besides losing what I just wrote for the last 90 minutes? Things are FABULOUS and I couldn't be any happier, YOU and THIS LIFE is PRECIOUS, My Preciousssssss......be well and I LOVE you ALL. Be good and be well.