Puerile and Pointless, with no Hope for Enlightenment

  in a street fight watch out for the lanky, wiry types. they never get tired and have unreal   pain thresholds. and they can easily turn a fight into a scrap. a scrappy fight comes down to who can tolerate the most pain before curling up into a (mostly un) protective ball, therefore favoring the lanky, scrappy type. dislocated shoulders and broken ankles don't slow them down, nor busted jaws.  your best hope is a chokehold.    I think about this as a lanky, wiry type in camo pants gives me the side eye in King Soopers. he's older, sure. 50s maybe. but he's got a scar on his right  cheek that looks like a Nike swoosh, and mouthful of empty gums where there should be teeth, so I turn my eyes downward and run with my groceries to the car.

On this Easter's Eve, in the good year of Our Lord 2025, I think of young Manny Furious, 14 years old, in the midst of his "awkward years," electroshocked hair leaping from his skull, eyes in a constant squint because dumb 14 year old boys think weird and untrue things like squinting constantly is less embarrassing than wearing glasses. I think of young Manny Furious on this Easter's Eve, because I think of him on the start of his spiritual quest wandering the streets of Rio Frio, half in a daze because he can't stop thinking about what Bruce Lee meant when he said, "Be water, my friend."  "It can flow, or it can crash," little Manny Furious whispers to himself several dozen times per day.  His father, Roland Furious, had failed to properly edify him of the phrase's meaning, despite all his best and appropriate efforts. Little Manny Furious was just too dense, too obtuse. He needed someone who had both the wisdom to know what "Being li...

if you're wondering why I died it's because I didn't know what to eat.    I thought about eating a bagel but they say gluten will make you poop too much and refined carbs  make you fat. So I thought about some beef jerky,  but they say red meat gives you Cancer  and heart disease. Eggs?  they say they raise your cholesterol.  they say chicken and soy milk give you man-boobs. sugar? Diabetes. Sausage leads to colon cancer. They even wrote books about how veggies are poisoning you.   and who wants any of that? all that stuff will kill you.

  I re-watched Casablanca    recently    and it made me happy  to think    that    there was a time and place where  ugly, drunk dudes  could be  the heroes  in movies.

Recently, I had made an 80s playlist with a bunch of corny 80s love songs, because people apparently do get lame as they get older. Anyway, should've seen the faces on the Cholos chilling outside of Adolfo's Mexican Restaurant as I drove up with Peter Cetera's, "Glory of Love" blasting from my red, cancer-ridden 2013 Nissan Rogue. I tried to explain that it was ok, that the song was from the Karate Kid part 2 soundtrack, but the significance of which was visibly lost on the Cholos.

  STARBUCKS BARISTA: Good morning! What can we make for you? MANNY FURIOUS ( lowering his voice 3 octaves ): GIVE ME A PINK DRINK, WOMAN. EXTRA STRAWBERRIES. STARBUCKS BARISTA: Awesome! Anything else? MANNY FURIOUS ( looking around, nervously ): AND THREE HUNDRED POUNDS TO BENCH PRESS. STARBUCKS BARISTA ( winking secretively at Manny Furious, while ensuring to speak loud enough for the whole cafe to hear ): It is such a masculine drink, if I do say so myself! MANNY FURIOUS: *leaves $20 tip