Sex and Candy

Last night I was downtown having a few beverages and there was this homeless-looking dude going around finishing the last few sips out of several of the nearly-empty, but deserted, cups in my vicinity. I was in the patio of the establishment – it wasn’t like he was beating the barback/busboy to the punch in some fancy restaurant… anyway, I didn’t pay him much heed – we all have bad days, no? Sometimes you gotta do whatever it takes to alter your state, regardless of your cash flow. More power to him. I know if I was in the same predicament, I wouldn’t be able to pull off the same stunt. I think I’d rather beg for cash and buy a few singles.

Maybe an hour passed by and I saw him again, a bit more belligerent, a bit more sloppy, on the far side of the patio (it was a big patio). Judging by his walk, he must have either discovered another watering hole to get his filthy fill, or grubbed up some change, because his gait was a bit astray. A few of the drinking strangers around me were getting a tad uncomfortable – two girls left and a few others moved inside. And possibly someone called the cops. That, or a cop just happened to stroll by. Regardless the reason of their arrival, the cop approached the homeless guy (no longer homeless-looking, at this point I was 100% certain he was pure homeless as opposed to some starving hipster).

Fortunately, I was within earshot of the following exchange:

‘Sir,’ said the cop, ‘are you a paying patron here?’
The drunken hobo shifted his gaze from the various bottles/glasses within arms reach and peered at the officer. ‘Paying? Not tonight.’ He smiled.
Cop: ‘I’m going to have to ask you to leave.’
Hobo: ‘How about a few more, then I leave?’
Cop: ‘I think you’ve had enough already.’
Hobo: ‘Pfft.’
Cop: ‘All right – move it along.’
Without putting up too much more of a petition, the hobo nodded and staggered through the opening in the fence-like thing. As he passed the policeman, he was asked ‘just how much did you drink tonight?’
His response – ‘not sure, but I’m thinking I finished the backwash of nearly 50 or 60 assorted drinks.’

Right on, homeless man, right on. You get yours.

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Ollie, are you choking?

No, I’m serious, Bertha, my food is lodged in my throat.
Old Swedish choking/joking joke for ya…
Anyway – I was eating something the other day and, if only for a second or two, it got wedged in my throat. I instantly became scared… But a split second later, while the food was still wedged in my throat, instead of pounding my chest or pumping my stomach on the back of a chair, I grabbed my computer. The first thought to initially pop into my head after understanding something was lodged in my throat was to write up a $%^&ing post, man. Ha – I’m choking and can die in a few more seconds – let me post this shit! That would be funny, I thought, posting how I was chocking and near death. And hell, if I really did die, that would be even more amusing – my last post was me choking. Ledgendary.
Meanwhile, in real life, if was was in fact really dying, instead of trying to save myself, I’d spend that last few seconds trying to be funny on Facebook or Twitter or whatever…
eh, that’s all I got. The idea was funnier in my head.

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The Only Time People Care if You Lie

The only truly real time people care whether you’re lying or not is if you actually kill someone and try to cover it up. In that case, people actually go out of their way to prove you’re a liar. They get paid to prove you’re a liar. They get paid lots and lots of money.

Seriously, lawyers are living in 10,000 square feet manors and pond-skipping in private jets to Monte Carlo because they proved someone was lying. I’ve proven people wrong before and got nothing other than a mean scowl. Teachers prove the little shits in their classroom are lying all the time and all they get is the satisfaction that they’ve outwitted a 8 year old. Proving people’s ‘pants are on fire’ is so juvenile. I beat my niece at Candyland weekly – why am I not making bank? If you break it down to the bare elements of the two scenarios, how are they really that different?

My two cents…

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As long as we’re on the subject…


As long as we’re on the subject of bad guys, do you think bad guys really tie people up to trees in the forest?  I’ve seen it in multiple movies so it’s clearly more than a random instance. We’ve all seen this, right?

Is this really a move in the bad guy handbook?  Or was it simply something some deranged person did out of necessity?  Or did a single bad guy actually plan to tie someone to a tree deep in the woods (imagine that conversation during the drive out) and, in ‘bad guy’ fashion, follow-through?  And since it was so bizarre, it made headlines, and multiple bad guys jotted the idea down for future use.  Or, was it just some idiot writer thinking that tying someone to a tree would be something a bad guy would do, and add it into the script?  And other writers, being ‘not’ really bad guys, thought it also a ‘bad guy’ move, and also included this move into their scripts, as well?

Anyway, if you know anyone who’s been tied to a tree, let me know! I’m intrigued.

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If you’re going to be a bad guy…


If you’re going to be a bad guy, you really just can’t stop at threats.  It’s kind of imperative that you follow through.  A truly bad guy must not only dream up strange and/or evil scenarios where someone is tortured, maimed, or killed – but it’s critical that they also follow through on those scenarios.  Being a bad guy takes creativity, drive, and ambition.  I make threats about killing people every day, but I have yet to follow through.  I haven’t yet discovered if it’s because I’m not truly bad, or if it’s because I’m lazy.  Regardless, evil thoughts do not an evil man make.  It takes follow-through.  When a bad guy threatens harm to some random stranger or family member or acquaintance, if it’s only talk – well, then you’re not a bad guy, but rather a shit talker.

In the movies, for instance, bad guys talk shit – but they typically follow-through and act on the threats promised.  The dude that says “I’m gonna eat your heart” needs to actually eat your heart if he wants to elevate from shit talker to bad guy. Even if you start with the warning of a smack to the face, it’s okay – the level of violence isn’t as important as acting on said warning.  Smack that face.  Build some street cred.  Every bad guy starts somewhere, I’m assuming. Not everyone can jump right into the heart-eating echelon. Baby steps. It’s like climbing the corporate ladder, each stab in the back brings you closer to that upper stratosphere.

Long story short – if you’re going to be a bad guy, please convert your words into actions. Idle threats are just that – idle.  Kick that shin. Shoot that toe.  Strangle that neck.  Burn that house.  Kill that pet.  Run over that neighbor.  Etc.  Good luck and here’s to reading about you in some future newspaper!

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