The Correct Words

what you meant to say…

We’re bonded by a common language.  So here are a few words you’ve been using wrong:


What you meant to say is “asocial”.  Anti-social is sociopathy; it’s a mental condition in which a person consistently shows no regard for right and wrong, and ignores the feelings of others.  Asocial means lacking motivation for social interaction.  George McFly was asocial.  Biff Tannen was anti-social.


You probably meant to say “prominent.”  Prolific means plentiful…as in large numbers or quantities.  Prominent means important, famous, or widely and popularly known.  Bunnies are prolific.  Bugs Bunny is prominent.


Ladies, what you meant to say is “Thanks.  You seem like a good person, and I hope in no uncertain terms you misconstrue my gratitude and acknowledgement of your overall decency as any minute sexual attraction in you or even the most minuscule desire to closen our passerby interaction beyond mere cordial strangers.”  Nice is characterized by great accuracy, precision, skill, or delicacy.  A Michelin star assortment of sushi is nice.  I am a good person.

This Ole Bottle


After a poetically emasculating work day, I like to pick up a few bottles of Trader Joe’s finest cheap wines.  A nice musky sub-ten dollar vino sanding the palette is among life’s best ways to rejuvenate the once strapping hairs surrounding male nipples.

I typically buy a Cotillion Pinot Noir for its playful label illustrating Animal Farm’s night of Eyes Wide Shut.

But…tonight…this ole bottle, never hath I gandered, leapt out at me…

Toad Hollow.  Just look at that toad!  He’s trampling grape vines in a velvet red vest while peering through tears of the lightest vino…with his pinky out.  It could only further transcend if his cane were also a mid-century sheathed sword.  A must buy.  The toad looked too pretentious to pass on.

Even…my goodness…even the vineyard is named after gold (famously the most pompous of metals).  It’s also from the RUSSIAN River Valley.  There could be no more poignant way to don the inauguration of 2017 than with this gaudy sardonic noir.

The back label rambles on to describe Pinot Noir as “the diva of the reds who loves to sleep late and awaken slowly as the sun gently warms her flesh.”  Sun.  Gently warms.  HER.  Flesh.  Pissshhh.  We all know that of all the alcohols…whisky is the lady – strong, warming, and beautifully complex.  Wine’s a man – overcrowded, boastful about reputation, better with age, yet most often a disappointment.

What kind of ostentatious wine even has the audacity to tell me to “Please recycle”?  Bitch, you get me drunk.  Don’t get me sloshed and then preach about Mother Nature, yo.  You’z less than ten dollars.  Know your place.

I go to uncork and again the toad greets me embossed at the cap.  I get it already.  You gold.  Cool cane bro.

Slow with care, I gradually raise the cork out the top and AGAIN…Don Toad vandalizes my retina.  For fuck’s sake…

The anticipation of taste becomes overwhelming.  I can’t wait to point my nose in the clouds then sip, slurp, and swirl the hype down this ole gullet.  One raise above the brow, one long sensual introduction at the nose, and…tastes like shit.

Will I ever buy this tawdry diva again?  Meh.  We’ll see if it’s appropriate again in another four years.

I Got Hacked.

Joke’s on you, sir hacker.

My site looks weird because I got hacked.  But the joke’s on you, genius sir/madam hacker of presumably exquisite sociability and stunning appearance. (please don’t attack me again)

I don’t write anymore. You’re wasting your time with this website like I wasted mine.

The dream’s over.

Once upon decades ago, I wrote. I was read by thousands, plagiarized by dozens, and heralded as a literary lord by my dog. But now… My dog has been taken. My life has grayed corporate. And no one even reads my emails.

So, let us do each other a favor, thee ravishing hacker. Move on. Latch thyself to another whose dreams rise. Be like my life’s beautiful women. Ignore me.

So, Kobe’s Taking a Break From Basketball

The greats always “retire” and then return again for one last hurrah.

Kobe’s taking a break from basketball, eh? The greats always “retire” and then return again for one last hurrah. And, Kobe’s one of the greats. It ain’t easy to be old and walk away into a foreign life.

Here’s my guess about the next few years…

The Lakers are going to court Kevin Durant. Management loves to build around mature talent and Durant’s the top candidate. Whether or not Durant signs with the Lakers, the franchise is going to struggle.

In the meantime, Kobe’s going to linger around the fringes of basketball. We’ll see him quoted in interviews on how the Lakers are under-performing. He’ll show up for an occasional post-game analysis. But, Kobe’s going to find that he just doesn’t have the personality and desire to be another media commentator.

So…when Kobe’s around 40 years old, the Lakers are going to make a 1-year offer to re-sign him under the guise of being mostly a mentor and secondary coach. He’ll be limited to, at most, 13 minutes of play per game. His primary role will be to advise the new Lakers on his methods of practice. And he’ll give the mentor role a shot for once…because it’s his last hurrah.

Y’all heard it here first. Kobe’s a Laker again around 2018. I’ll bet your house on it.

Any Openings? I’m Looking.

I’m super cereal.

I’m tech-savvy, artistic, and have a decent business mind.  It’s about time I reapply myself.

I spent most of my life volunteering.  I’ve gone on church missions bringing food and healthcare to impoverished neighborhoods.  I’ve spent weekends running errands in hospitals and got awkwardly hit-on by grandmas with exquisite tastes in Asian men during board games at the local elderly community.  My most fun donated years were the times helping build a creative outlet for underrepresented ethnic minorities desiring a voice in entertainment.

So now, I’m seeking again.  Do you know a good cause that could use an extra hand?

I ain’t looking for a new job.  Youz think I crazy?!  My career’s awesome.  But…there must be more than this provincial life.  I’m just itching to be more than myself.

Happiness is helpfulness.  I miss being a good person.