Puerile and Pointless, with no Hope for Enlightenment

A FEW THOUGHTS WHILE WATCHING THE "LITTLE RED CORVETTE" VIDEO ON YOUTUBE: 1. OBVIOUSLY AN ALL-TIME GREAT SONG FROM AN ALL-TIME GREAT ARTIST. NOT SURE ANYONE ELSE HAS EVER BEEN AS CAPABLE OF MAKING SUCH BLATANTLY UNSAFE, UNSANITARY, LITERALLY DANGEROUS SEX SOUND SO APPEALING. 2. THE 80S WERE FUCKING WEIRD, MAN. 3. EVERY SINGLE WOMAN WHO DEMANDS HER PARTNER SHOULD BE TALLER THAN 6-FEET TALL, AND EVERY PATHOLOGICALLY INSECURE, HOMO/TRANSPHOBIC MACHO MAN WOULD DROP THEIR PANTIES IN A SPLIT SECOND THE MOMENT THEY CROSSED PATHS WITH 5-FOOT-NOTHING PRINCE BREAK-DANCING IN HIS HIGH HEELS.

THERE ARE A LOT OF REASONS 11-YEAR-OLD MANNY FURIOUS WOULD BE DISAPPOINTED IN 41-YEAR-OLD MANNY FURIOUS. TOO MANY TO ADEQUATELY AND ENTERTAININGLY RECOUNT HERE. AND “DISAPPOINTED” ISN’T EVEN THE RIGHT WORD. LITTLE MANNY FURIOUS WOULD BE DEVASTATED, DISMAYED, DOWNRIGHT DISTRAUGHT ABOUT ALL THE THINGS OLD MANNY FURIOUS HAS FAILED TO ACCOMPLISH IN HIS LIFE. BUT SOME OF THEM WOULD BE THAT OLD MANNY FURIOUS STILL DOESN’T HAVE A RESPECTABLE HAIRCUT, HE’S NOT RICH OR FAMOUS, HE DOESN’T HAVE A BLACK BELT IN ANY MARTIAL ART, HE DOESN’T WEAR A LEATHER JACKET, HE DOESN’T POSSESS THE PHYSIQUE OF MID-1980S SYLVESTER STALLONE TAKING 500MG OF TRENBOLONE DAILY, AND HE DOESN’T REGULARLY GET INTO BAR FIGHTS IN DEFENSE OF HIS WOMAN’S HONOR. HELL, WOMEN DON’T EVEN FIND HIM PARTICULARLY INTRIGUING. HE ALSO DOESN’T OWN OR DRIVE A DIRT BIKE. THESE WERE JUST SOME OF THE VERY COOL AND AWESOME THINGS OLDER MANNY FURIOUS WAS GOING TO HAVE AND DO, AT LEAST IN THE MIND OF LITTLE MANNY FURIOUS. CERTAIN ASSUMPTIONS...

  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 

  CURSING IN WHISPERS Cursing in whispers under a late winter sky —picking up dog shit         THIRTY PRINGLES On my drive to work— The crumbs of thirty pringles All over my coat           IMPERILED RELATIONSHIPS Me and the kitty our relationship in peril —out into the snow I throw his meddling ass in the middle of the night           A LONG WEEK After a long week— Drinking a beer on the couch Stretching out my toes

 "...So, it isn't like Rocky II  is a bad movie. It's just kind of slow and then you have the whole subplot where Adrian falls into a coma while giving birth to Rocky Jr., which is just ridiculous and it comes across like a bad 70s soap opera storyline, although the moment when Adrian comes out of the coma---oh shoot, spoiler I guess---anyway, too late now---anyway, it is kind of a cool moment when she comes out of the coma and tells Rocky to 'Win..WIN' because she had been being a, frankly, haggish sort of spoiler and negative nancy the entire movie up until that point, basically refusing to allow Rocky to fight, which is sort of why Rocky blames himself when she goes into the coma, because he had chosen to fight again against her wishes, but, also, the final fight is one of the best in the series, so you know, it's kind of worth watching the rest of the long, slow, ridiculous movie to get to that final fight, and also, some of the training montages are cool, ...

  "let the chips fall where they may."   I think to myself as I stare down at  a bowl of freshly made salsa  with a dozen or so pieces of soggy tortilla chips mixed in haphazardly. The evidence of Issa Furious aged 9 covertly  raiding the stash before anyone had noticed. 

  HUNTING SKILLS The kitty brought it concerned for my hunting skills —dead bird on dead lawn       IN SHOPPING CARTS Kid in shopping cart Staring at me creepily       —Says he's three years old       AVALANCHE Like an avalanche Buried by anxiety —All out of pringles     MEH The first spring evening The most beautiful sunset     —I feel so damned meh  

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.

Manny Furious’s client: "..." Manny Furious: (an actual, paid, licensed, professional Family Networks Education Recovery Deliminator): "... but Goku, the protagonist of the series, has been basically of the same personality and character during the nearly 30 years, and more than 600 episodes of the series which consisted of  Dragon Ball ,  Dragon Ball Z,  and  Dragon Ball Super  (And, perhaps, maybe,  Dragon Ball GT , but who knows?). He is still the good-natured, loyal, but oblivious, naive, self-centered dolt he's always been. On the other hand, the character of Vegeta, the one-time antagonist of the series, but current secondary protagonist, has gone from being a violent, genocidal psychopathic villain, to a genuine family man and defender of life. We must attribute Vegeta's evolution to his, Vegeta's, relationships with his wife Bulma, and children, Trunks and Bulla, all of which are supportive and loving relationships with people whom, perhaps most ...

  one time  at a track meet in high school, there were a bunch  of pretty girls from a rival school who set up a tent  on the inside of the track. At one point  I stuck my head into the tent and declared:   "this must be the hot girls' tent."   Oh god.   those poor girls.   damn near 20 years later I still lose sleep over  that one every two weeks or so.

taking the garbage out at 11:00pm trying to open the lid toss the 40-lbs trash bag in in one try close the lid and sprint back into the house before the aliens get me...

  outside in the midst of a thunderstorm. it truly is  awe-inspiring to hear and feel the crack and rumble of  nearby thunder. I can see why the ancients were so terrified of that shit.    and they had no real explanation for it except that  Thor or  Zeus or  whoever  were pissed at them  for masturbating or something.

I’m always amazed John Williams actually gave the Star Wars movies such an incredible score. Like, can you imagine being some supremely talented movie composer — a SERIOUS artist type, you know —   and some perennially dorky social klutz like George Lucas coming up to you and blathering on about “Wookies” and “Darth Vader” and “Light Saber duels” and you having to take that shit seriously? That's what's so impressive: Williams is the quintessential craftsmen. Give him a seemingly stupid job and he’ll still give an all-time effort. There is a lesson in this, somewhere….

I think of Young Manny Furious, aged 14, sitting in the kitchen, still not wearing glasses, hair still shooting out like four inch flames from the bonfire that had remained of his mind, reading a book about Bruce Lee's philosophy.  "Be like water," Young Manny wonders aloud. "What the hell does that mean? Be wet ?" Roland Furious kind of just sighs and shakes his head, I'm sure wondering, himself, whence this simple, sort of oblivious lad that was supposedly his had come.  "Water can flow, or it can crash," Young Manny reads aloud, puzzled. "How can a human being flow or crash? We're not fluid." Roland Furious visibly winces.  "Oh, does he mean, crash like a car? But that's a bad thing," Young Manny continues to ponder.  "Jesus Christ," Roland Furious relents and crashes. "It's a metaphor. Go with the flow when you need to. Put a stop to things, or even destroy them when you need to. You know, be ...

                                          I like  my women like I like my green tea:   Hot as hell Strong as hell Bitter as hell and just sweet enough to make going down just a little bit easier.   😉

                   For 30 years,  in "We Didn't Start the Fire"  I assumed  Billy Joel said,  "Trouble in the SEWERS"  and that some grand historic event happened in the sewers somewhere that I just never heard about. Some vague prole revolution or an alligator infestation.  Ninja Turtles.  You know,  something awesome. Two days ago  I learned  what he really sang was  "Trouble in the SUEZ."  Very disappointing.

  too lazy to clean out the iced chai residue from  my Starbucks vente cup, I simply refill it with water and meet with a client who would like to speak with me about some indescribable childhood trauma but can't stop staring at the Starbucks cup of cloudy water I keep sipping from.

w as there ever  a sadder sight?  me  eating alone in my car  in the Chipotle parking  lot,  middle of a winter  rainstorm,  trying and mostly failing to  eat an overstuffed burrito without                               spilling                                       it                                     all                                   o ver                               m y very professional                              ...

I woke up early on New Year's Day because I’m a loser who didn't stay up all night getting drunk with others. No New Year’s kiss for me. Plus, I had work, because I have somehow gotten myself a job that requires of its employees people dumb enough to apply for a job that requires its employees to work holidays. Well, that was an awful last sentence. Still, that is exactly what the situation is.   Anyhow, the sun was out bright but it was visibly frigid outside, in typical Rio Frio fashion, and I turned up the thermostat, which has a mechanism that would allow me to schedule it to kick on automatically at certain times of the day and to specific temperatures, but even seven years of living with such a luxury is not long enough, apparently, to combat my preternatural laziness and steadfast refusal to make the effort to learn how to engage such a mechanism. I jumped onto the internet and scrolled through Facebook, liking everyone's New Year's posts, except it was 7:12 in t...

According to Artemis Magnussen, in his book,  Dispatches from the Dionysian Desert , the word virus was created by the Evenians, a species of Adamans from the planet Edenia in the galaxy Genisia, which is an old galaxy, even by galactic standards. Before the advent of the virus, the Evenians communicated in a way that you, the reader, would never be able to understand. It was almost as if they simply willed information to each other. But it's much deeper and much more profound than that. See, because the Evenians didn't have language (no lifeforms--particularly those which would now be identified as "intelligent"-- in the universe had communicated through language before the existence of the virus), they had not yet divided the universe into distinct, separate, disparate entities. The universe simply  was , as it is. There was no "space," there was no "time." There was no "you," there was no "me." The entirety of "existence...