I’ve gotten so lazy that I come home from work, and watch a group of people talk to each other. The magic in watching a podcast is that you have to put zero effort in contributing to the conversation. It’s fucking genius.
Today I saw an Eagle’s nest just outside of work. It looked like it had been there for a while. It was huge. The Eagle that swooped in was huger. So majestic, the way it moves. It’s all about precision. Focusing in on it’s target from miles away, it can latch onto large prey. But now, it’s time to rest. Now, it’s 6:00 pm. It’s time to attend to the children. Down below, people are heading back home from work. The night shift people are coming in. Long, long faces. Deep signs of desperation. Like, feeling trapped. At the same time, there’s sounds of laughter, and there’s the smell of smoke. Horrible, cigarette smoke. It’s like the air wasn’t polluted enough.
I found a condom on my window sill. This is a poem.
How safe is the universe?
Why do pigeons stare?
I saw two pigeons fighting for a single condom
The battle for the rubber, to be safer than the other
Why are condoms thrown away?
Why are they airborne?
Alas! they are thin, lightweight and never torn
lest they break, the moon will shake
forgive me , says the balloon maker
I am sensible, I am sick
Nostradamus does’t need a toothpick
The rubber will not endure a fall
I see time pass by
I count the needles in the eye
and suddenly, the poem goes off topic
into a land unknown, with folded arms I sit on the throne
tiny little milk packets
Now now, it’s getting grose
read the poem, angry nose
Aah fuck just end it
I went to watch Kanan Gill today, and let me tell you something, I’m getting old. It felt odd, sitting with a group of teenagers. I kept looking back, thinking “the grownups are coming, right?”. I sat up front, in the middle cos papa likes the full experience, and I know Mr. Gill doesn’t engage with the crowd much. So I’m sitting there, feeling even more lonely than I usually do, and finally he comes out. What an entrance! I have seen only a few people enter a stage like that in my life. The last one was Mary Kom, and she made her presence felt throughout the hall. Not to perv out too much, but she’s got an amazing body. So anyway, I’m looking up at Mr Gill’s magnificent beard. I want to gently stroke it, maybe rub my face on it. One hour passed by in the blink of an eye. It was that good. Anything that makes you forget your life, is good. Except, heroine. Mr. Gill came not just with comedy, but with wisdom and music. He got on stage, accompanied by an absolute banger of a track by Tigercub. Grungy, poppy, hard rocky. Papa love it.
If you’ve ever been to a Mio Amore store, there’s a thing called Chicken Internet in the snacks section. Don’t eat it.
I knew the day was going to come when I’ll have to address this menace on a platform that no one ever reads. This is getting to a point where we’ll need to get the ‘shh police’ involved. I want theater staff standing by at all times to manhandle these motherfuckers. Look man, I get it. You’ve paid extra to watch it on the opening night. You’ve got your group of friends, your life is amazing. I understand that. Just don’t come to a theater, and spread that happiness around. Just sit down, eat your overpriced popcorn, and get the hell outta there. No one wants to know all the other movies the director has done, or why the movie is going to change the landscape of the movie industry. Save your damn opinions for filmschool. Where’s the shh police when you need them? Have all of them found fulfilling jobs at libraries?
I was watching The Batman, and there was these group of kids, who I’ll be honest, reminds me a lot of myself when I was young. I used to get so excited, but I also knew I had to respect the audience. Everyone paid the same price. Everyone deserves great entertainment. That’s actually not true , the rich bitches are lying down on recliner seats, enjoying gold plated nachos, handmade by tv’s favorite chef. Nobody’s making a fuss there because over there, the threats are real. ‘I’ll dismiss your father’ is a favorite. So anyway, I’m sitting there, slowly getting into the dark and gloomy mood of Gotham city, and this kid won’t stop rambling about the color scheme of this movie. I mean, he’s making really good points about the Red accent and all, but I paid 360 for this man, and it’s not even imax. I am a poor, unfulfilled moviegoer. Please let me have this.
PS: Great movie. Loved the cinematography. If you’re thinking about watching it, don’t think twice. Go watch it in a nice theater, because you deserve it.
I would like to make a shout out to an earlier post that I did about a magical fruit called the banana, and this is a continuation of it, but it’s about a smaller banana. Trust me, this is not a dick joke. I love the small banana. Tell me if I’m wrong but it’s hard as fuck to find a good small banana. It has to be the right time, at the right place, the weather has to be good, the traffic light has to be green, there’s just so many requirements, but when you do find the right one, it’s muy bueno. It’s magic. It’s like, how can a fruit taste so good? You know that fruits are the garbage of the food industry right? Then how can they make a tasty, small, squishy fruit like this? How many can you carry? like, at least 10. That’s why they’re sold by the dozen. No one buys 2 small bananas. Actually, down south they do. They treat it like dessert, which I think is very demeaning, but anyway. What we need to do now is promote the eating of this magical fruit, and get this, one fits perfectly in your mouth. Have you ever noticed that? It’s not dick jokes I swear. One whole small banana fits perfectly in your mouth. Why do you think God did that? Because he wanted something to feed the masses. He designed something so small and so soft that it surprises you. Out with the long and hard. In with the small and soft. I swear, please, it’s not dick dick jokes. So today, I found that special bunch. That hard to get, perfectly ripe, perfectly sweet bunch of small bananas, and… I started eating them. I downed 4, and then it hit me. Wait a minute… I don’t have to worry abut finishing them so quickly because guess what bitches? They don’t go bad for days. Unlike their long hard cousins, they last longer. They don’t need to be pumped up with chemicals to last longer, they’re just naturally superior. I swear… trust me, these dick jokes aren’t intentional.
This was a shocking revelation that took me my entire childhood to figure out. I was folding the left hand’s sleeve more than the right all this time. The arm that I use less is longer. Why? I don’t know. I do a neat trick with my left hand to keep the sanitizer bottle back in my bag’s side pocket, while the bag is still on my back. Other than that, there’s nothing special about my left hand. It’s not as strong as the right. I’ve never jerked off with it. I’ve never waved at anyone with my left hand, well, unless I was holding my phone, and didn’t really care who I was waving at. Sorry, left hand. When it comes to drumming, the left is as important as the right. I brush with my left hand. I am right handed. I have never done one-handed push-ups. I have handed things to people with my left hand. Some people get offended when I do this. Maybe it’s a religious thing. For me, it’s just convenience, because my left hand is longer lol.
Have you ever noticed the two strands of leaves around the Corn Flakes logo? Don’t they look like two hands squeezing in on the letters? It’s the owners of Kellogg’s going ‘gotcha bitches’. We are in the clutches of the ready-to-eat industry people. I really wish it hadn’t come to this, but ehh… I have a corn flakes addiction. I am not ashamed to admit it. Tuesday nights at 2 am, you’ll find me watching YouTube and breathing in a whole bag of Cornflakes (I like the strawberry and real honey). It gets worse. I don’t eat it with milk. I raw dog it. In my defense, it’s pure fiber, and it’s not fatty (but I am).
Frowning in public
Let me explain. If I see anyone, in a social setting, my face does this weird ‘get away from me’ move. I call it the auto-frown. It’s not uncommon. I’ve seen other people do it too, and it doesn’t feel right. This issue has gone down drastically after I’ve starting taking treatment. Like, I became more aware of it happening, and now it rarely happens. I guess all of this is part of my overall level of anxiety going down.
I have lived with anxiety all my life. To be able to control it is like…. I don’t know how to explain it. Wait a minute, of course I do. Imagine Venom. No, not the Tom Hardy Venom. The ol Toby Maguire Venom. Remember how relieved he felt after Venom left his body? That’s what it feels like. Like a cancer that’s in your brain and heart, just got removed. Wow, I just compared a mental heath issue to a comic book character.