…on closure

I remember that I should have been home that day and I wasn't

I remember that when I did get home everything around me smelled like burning airplane gas.

I remember that it smelled like that for days and I was in queens.

I remember that I got a cup of coffee with jay zee after parking the car near church street and I took a wrong turn and there it was. still on fire three months later.

I remember taking my relatives from Texas down there the following summer and telling them about that cup of coffee and a lack of understanding being in their eyes.

I remember that because of him and his plans, sidney's father is dead and while they moved on, it doesn't change the fact that sidney's dad will never see her grow up.

and 40 minutes of black ops that ended in a tap tap will never change the fact that I remember these things.

and maybe one day old age will take these things from my head.

but I hope not.

—the bastard

premise beach…

so the bastard had a thought about the week's repast

I gained a good deal of insight into how a certain contest in my industry works by being on a judging panel for it.

it gave me tremendous insight into what we are doing right

and what we are doing wrong.

but no one in the office seemed all that interested in hearing about it.

so I think I might just keep this to myself.

you see, I've already received my reward for my hard work.

so why push it.

—the bastard

…on definition of terms part 2

waiting by elevator,

I hear the familiar clack kachunk the bastard hears when he's getting company for the ride downstairs.

my neighbor who curiously looks and sounds like delroy lindau greets me.

all ten feet of him in a parka.

"how you been", I ask

"alright," he responds. "you been out in this hawk?"

"yes indeed I have sir. the hawk is out today".

I thought the phrase , " the hawk is out" was only to be used by my uncle nemo or perhaps run dmc but delroy and I rock that phrase

cause it pays.

too bad it's going up to fiddy this week, I enjoy the cold. at least until I get sick of it.

—the bastard

guess what?

the bastard still reads.


you on the other hand, still suck at life.

being a car thief ain't easy you know.

it's time consuming to steal shit and make it work for you.

so sometimes you gotta work with johnny law and buy things once in a great while.

it's like this. the bastard has been reading comics on my phone.

and the app I've been using to read them keeps crashing. so I've decided to stop reading jpg comics on my phone.

so I decided to pony up the 12.99 to read zero history by William Gibson.

I like gibson. his style of writing grabs me quickly and makes me care about what he's writing about. he caters to the futurist in me.

also, I try not to read anything my dad reads. and it's not that I don't share his interests. I just hate borrowing stuff. besides, the last time I borrowed a book from him, it decayed in my hands as I read it from 38 years of smoke damage.

that said, I won't tell you how the book ends ( get it?!?! BOOKENDS?!? ahhhhhh go to hell) the bastard just wanted to tell you bow much you suck.

—the bastard