had a nice long talk with my mom yesterday


shes the best.

here are some of the things that she suggested i do with my life

1. enter the priesthood

2. only date black girls

3. go back to flying helicopters

4. move back to illinois

5. get a hobby

6. adopt a few of the cats

7. remodel the bachelor pad

8. go vegan

9. trade my niece and nephew’s xbox one for my xbox 360

10. stop dating girls who only love you for your blog

the wind was all, we dont care shes still here, we’re gonna clean this up


and it blew and it howled just like last time.

it was trying to warn me. it was saying dude are you blind? can you not hear?

where are your spidey senses?

where is your bs detector? where is your logic? you are so logical

blow wind blow whereever you may go, etc.

but i was lost in a feeling. i was believing the unbelievable. i was feeling the feeling.

beware of people you cant really talk with, let alone fight with.

not that fighting should ever be a goal, but if every fight is a nuclear war everyone dies.

and after i felt like i had died i drove through the dirty streets of hollywood and there were the casualties.

palm fronds, palm fronds everywhere.


people who know me know im black and theyre respectful. but most people dont know my true background and they say some silly things.

one guy got into my Uber and was all, wow you have a 4.9 rating (out of 5) how do you do it?

i said, well most people survive my trips, I guess thats half the battle.

he was all, also youre white so i’ll give you a 5 star immediately.


then saturday night around 2am it was surging. this was gonna be a double fare meaning it was gonna be twice as much.

beautiful girl in short shorts and a long flouncy skirt jumps in with her dashing boyfriend close behind.

she looks at me and yells HELLO MY NIGGA!

shocked. and suddenly i wasnt so sad i was about to charge her double.


i have pretty thick skin. and most of the time racism or hate speech is in the intention.

a mere middle finger can deliver the same message as any word.

it’s just them trying to get you in your sore spot.

but my skin color isnt my sore spot.

the cubs are.

or the busblog.

or the way i hold your hand on a long drive beneath the stars.

if you say i have a clammy paw and drive poorly that will hurt me a lot more than some antiquated word

you might utter ignorantly.

but if you say it in a way that is intended to hurt me, mostly i’ll just think youre an idiot

and dont know me at all.

that, will make me sad.