Thursday, August 25, 2016

I'm back

How could it be that it has been 4 years since my last post? What have I been been doing with my life you ask?  Surely you must have had something to say about,  well,  everything you say. Damn right I do and now Im ready to get back on the proverbial horse and say it.

Here's what I'll  be talking about in the weeks to come; My old apartment, my new apartment, noisy neighbors, bipolar disorder, Brooklyn,  why I miss the 90's and anything else that comes across my mind.

Thanks for sticking with me.

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Are you looking for love in all the wrong places?

Nobody wants to go through life completely alone. We all seek out the comfort of someone at least once in our lives. The first to love and comfort us was our mothers. They fed us, they clothed us, they made us feel safe from monsters living under our beds. Thats that's what good mothers do. We all love our mothers and they love us back.

If you are lucky you have brothers and sister whom you love and love you back.

I love my brother and sisters. I don't ever remember them being mean to me or hitting me out of anger. I'm the youngest of four and having a younger brother to watch I imagine would cramp your style when you wanted to hang out with your friends. They would take me places with them even when they didn't have to. As we grew older our love changed as we did. We grew into very different people with very different lives. There are times when I wonder if I met my siblings today would we be friends. The honest answer is, probably not. But because we are family we have a shared history and a relationship that transcends friendship. It is more, so much more than any friendship I've every had. It is a love that we have cultivated over a lifetime. We are better people for having each other in our lives.

Yes, I am really lucky.

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Who are the people in your neighborhood part 2

From New Orleans it was off to Lego Land. No, not the amusement park, the other one. That other city with plastic people who don’t look like real people and live in a world of imagination, Los Angeles. Los Angeles, where the only thing between you and your favorite celebrity is your coke dealer. That is unless he or she happens to be on the wagon this particular week. Then all you have to do is go one of the anonymous 12 steps meetings where you can have a face to face,but only if they look YOU in the eye and make contact. 

I lived in Los Angeles for about five years and I rarely saw any of my neighbors. I would see them coming and going to work and that was it. I could run into one of my old neighbors right now and not know it.

You know how everybody always says New Yorkers are rude. New Yorkers are not rude we’re in a hurry, we’re direct, we’re blunt and we’re not going to co-sign your bullshit. People from Los Angeles, Angelenos as they’re called, they’re rude. They will lie, cheat and steal and that’s just to get a good seat at a restaurant. The truly amazing  thing is that they all sound so sincere and honest and look so good doing it. Often it’s not until you get home and have had a chance to think about it do you realize that they have just sold you a big piece of shit in a pretty blue box with a bow on it. You thought that you had stepped in something but...

Anyway, in some places it’s all about the neighborhood you live in or the car you drive or what you do or how much money you make, except in L.A. it’s all these things and more. The more, is what did you take to get here. Everybody is looking for the fastest way to get where ever the hell it is they have to go. There is always traffic no matter what time of day, literally. 3am, 8am, 12 noon, 4pm the second coming of Christ It’s all the same. It used to be that it took half an hour to go just about anywhere. The traffic flew bye at 75 miles per hour and nearly bumper to bumper considering the the speed you were traveling at. Now you’re lucky if you can pull out of the driveway in half an hour.

The last time I went grocery shopping in L.A. I had this feeling, this funny feeling. I couldn’t tell what it was but it was there. I looked around several times and then it hit me, there were no fat people in the entire store. Everyone was thin... well thin compared to the rest of America and definitely better looking than the rest America. But as beautiful as these people were, they were as smart as a box of rocks (I’m no rocket scientist and everyday I thank the people at Apple for the spell check on my MacBook). 

I think they must keep all the smart people of Los Angeles sequestered away somewhere and only let them out on special occasions. I don’t know. Maybe it’s just me. Maybe that’s just what I’m saw. Who knows? I could be wrong about the whole thing, but I don’t think so.

I went to San Francisco and all I got was an infection. San Francisco is like a beautiful woman with a dirty face and wearing worn out clothes. Everything looks  great just don’t look to closely. The people of the city by the bay would have you to believe that they are enlightened and progressive. The truth is closer to “ Trust me we know whats best for you and you should be doing things OUR way because the way you’re doing it, is wrong! “.  

There are all these great organic farmers markets every where you look in San Francisco. It’s real easy to eat healthy there. They make it real easy for you. Only one problem. organic is expensive. Plus there are only two supermarket chains in San Francisco, Safeway (I love Safeway) and Whole Paycheck oops I meant Whole Foods (I love them too) three if you count Costco. There’s only one problem They aint cheap. So if you’re struggling to get by or right out poor you’re really screwed. You’re probably saying hey Mo it’s San Francisco it’s an expensive city to live in and you live in New York City. It’s because I live in New York city that I can say this. There are no less than 8  stores within 10 blocks of where I live and they all seem to be doing just fine. Competition works.

Ok I just took a right turn and this is not about all that so I’m going to get back on track now.

Now where was I? Oh yeah San Francisco, where they wouldn’t dare call me nigger to my face but they will say no blacks, latinos or Asians in a personal add follow it up by saying “no offense”. So I guess that makes it all ok, right? If you live in San Francisco, no offense.

If I told you that I have done enough drugs to kill 11 elephants 25  times that might be an understatement. Now, having said that, I have never seen so much casual drug use  in my life as I have seen in San Francisco. One day I was walking down a street, it was two blocks from city hall. Hell you could see city hall from where I was. There were no obstructions save for a few trees. It was the middle of the day. There was a woman in front of me. She sat down on the sidewalk, reached into her purse, pulled out a syringe and shot up. Right there on the sidewalk. It was the middle of the day in the middle of the week and you know what? Nobody cared. It was business as usual. 

Just like the the homeless people on Market Street who sleep in doorways every night of the week, business as usual. I know, I know, there are homeless people in every large city and the have to sleep somewhere. Yeah I get it. But did you know that Market Street, especially lower Market Street is one of the biggest tourist attractions in the region? Did you know that the City of San Francisco warehouses a lot of it’s poor within about 10 blocks of down town? Hey it’s not that bad  that if you live in San Francisco. Most residents of San Francisco don’t live any where near downtown so they never have to see it. Just the 16 million people who visit do and that’s progressive and enlightened. To the folks over at Progressive insurance, no offense.

I did it it again. Sue me.

Have ever had the luxury of watching someone high on heroin try and stand up straight?  Do you remember the old television commercial for a toy called a Weeble? The tag line was Weebles wobble but they don’t fall down. Well when you’re really high on heroin you’re the Weeble. I saw this one guy outside a shelter in San Francisco. He  was in full nod. He was feeling no pain. I found a good spot where I could enjoy the view and waited for the show to begin in my head. What’s the show you ask? 


HOST:  Good evening ladies and gentlemen I’m your host BUZZ KILLINGTON and welcome to WILL HE FALL? Will he fall is the game show were we troll  around downtown looking for people high on heroin and record their every move for your entertainment. Then we ask you WILL HE FALL? Since most junkies don’t fall  your chances of winning something would be really good. So we stacked the deck in your favors to make things interesting. We’ll show you snapshots of 25 different junkies. One of the 25 will fall in 5 minutes. You choose one out 25 and bet on wether or not he will fall. You’ll start out with a bank of $10,000. If you bet he doesn’t fall  you will lose $1,000 for every stumble $2,000 every time a body part that is not his foot touches the ground or grabs something for support. You can cash out anytime after 3 minutes and go home. Now if you bet that he falls, you will still still lose $1,000 for every stumble and $2,000 every time a body part that is not his foot touches the ground or grabs something for support and you can still cash out any time after 3 minutes but if your guy does fall you will win $1,500 for every stumble and $3,000 every time a body part touches the ground that is not a foot or grabs something for support and we will double you bank making it $20,000. Now this is where things get interesting. You can keep on playing but you if lose the next game you lose half of the  money you won. But if you win we will double it. If you win 3 games we will triple your bank and you get to come back to play against other WILL HE FALL? champions and a chance to win $500,000. Let’s begin.

In my head I won $17,000 that night.

Well I guess that's it. Those were the people in my neighborhoods. Some were good, some not so much but all were interesting and I wouldn't change a thing......

Okay I'm lying. I'd change a lot  


Friday, May 18, 2012

Who are the people in your neighborhood?

     I haven't lived in one place for more than 5 years since I was living with my mother as a child. When I was a child we moved a lot. No that's not quite right. We moved often. I remember moving 3 times before I was 10. Sometime before or could be after I turned 10 I moved to Danbury Connecticut. I lived there till I was 18. Since then I have lived in 3 of the 5 boroughs of New York City in no less than 9 different places. I've also lived in Aniston, Alabama,  Schwabisch Gmund Geermany,  New Orleans, Los Angeles and San Fransico and unless you're in the Army that's a lot. 

          Now, every place I go now, it feels like I've been there before. It might have something to do with the fact that I once worked for Amtrak and I've seen some part of just about every state that Amtrak goes through. There is one thing that differentiates all these places from one another. It's the people

            People like the woman who lived next door to me in Danbury. She had enough kids to fill the infield of Yankee's Stadium. They were always home and they were always loud. They would fight, yell, scream and listen to music at decibel levels that would rival anything that Boeing makes. Sometimes I would sit on the stairs and just listen. Listen to the fights over the last piece of chicken, who drank all the Kool Aide or a scuffed pair of new Adidas shoes that someone wore without permission. When all the fighting was over someone would leave. On the way out they would ask their mother for some money. She would always claim not to have any but they knew better. They would persist till she reached into her bra and withdrew 5 dollars from Titty City savings and loan.  It was many things in their house but one thing it never was, was boring.  
         They made me feel lucky to have the family that I do.

           When I was 18 I joined the ARMY. I did my all my training at Fort Mcclellan in Aniston, Alabama. I never got to see all that much of Aniston. I'm sure that it's lovely once you drive past the tattoo parlors, car dealerships and pawn shops all there to separate young soldiers from their money.

             I met a cross section of America at Fort Mcclellan. Like the sergent who said in a barely comprehensible souther accent "I am sergent so-and-so and I'm here to instruct you in ... (something, what ever it was he was talking about I don't remember). I am from L.A. ......That's right I am from lower Alabama." Then there was one of my drill sergents who, after being told "Good morning drill sergent!" responded b y saying "Hmmph, oh yeah? What's good about it?". Most of that day is a lost memory but I will never forget that moment. When ever someone says to me, "Good Morning" I flash back to that moment in time and say....

         The things I remember most about Fort Mcclellan had nothing to do with the ARMY. It had everything to do with that first shower once I got to basic training. I think his name was was Kennedy. Up until that date he had the biggest penis I had ever seen on a human. It hung half way to his knee and was thick like a toddlers leg. I was a dear caught in headlights. A few weeks later he told me that he wanted to put that thing in me. I walked away my head reeling in disbelief and in fear of the damage that thing would do internal organs.

          I have never had more fun or been drunker than I have when I lived in Germany. I once bought a bottle of scotch at a gas station in Stuttgart. I don't know why I bought it because I hate scotch. So there I was walking down the koenigstrasse (it means king street and is one of if not the biggest shopping streets in Stuttgart) where I ran into a group of kids hanging out and being a public nuisance. I guess I bought the bottle of scotch for them because they were more than happy to drink it with me. I got to exercise my German and they got to drink for free.

           I loved living in Germany. It was one of the best times of my life. It wasn't just the drinking or the partying that I did in excess. It was the owner of the ice cream parlor who always said hello to me and remembered that I liked banana and strawberry, spagetti ice (it's a gelato like ice cream that's put through a press and extruded. It looks like spagetti and is topped with a fruit topping resembling a sauce). It was the way the people would patiently listen to me butcher their language while trying to ask a question and then answering me in English. It was the way they treated me when I walked into a store and would look me in the eye and not follow me around as if I were going to steal something. It was the friends that I made and the food that I came to love. It was all of the people of Schwaibisch Gmund Germany. Some of the best neighbors I have ever had.

          I don't know if you've ever lived in New York City, but if you have, you'd know that apartments can be incredibly small. My first place in the city was no exception. It was a 2 bedroom shoe box on the corner of 12th and avenue A. The bathroom was in the kitchen. There was almost no counter space and the rooms were so small that I couldn't close the door once you put your futon down. That is if the bedrooms had a doors. There were no doors in the apartment unless you count the ones on the oven and the refrigerator. It was a 3rd floor walk up, it had drafty windows  and lets just call it a insect problem that took me weeks to get in front of. There was one good thing about my apartment, the neighborhoods.

          My neighbors were loud. I mean really loud! Keep you up all night long loud. Walk up stairs and bang on the door loud. Well, I would have walked upstairs and banged on the door If I had, had the balls. My next door neighbors were loud too, in a good way. They watched TV all the time and they liked it loud. What's good about that, you ask? I watch TV all the time. Sometimes they would be watching something that I didn't know was on but wanted to watch and change channels. I remember thinking that someone should come up with a stereo TV or something. Some of my neighbors fought or drank or did drugs. One even got killed on his way into the building (At least I think he was killed. I came home from a night of heavy drinking and there were police milling about, police tape blocking off the entrance and a lot of blood on the stoop.). More than anything else my neighbors were poor hard working people just trying to make rent.

          Have you ever been to New Orleans? If you have, you know that it's the drinkingest city in America. Did you know you can buy alcohol 24/7 in New Orleans? A few of my neighbors did. They always had something to dink. They drank at every meal, at every occasion, everyday and you know what? I wouldn't have had it any other way! Corky and Mark were their names and they were the best alcoholic friends you could have... most of the time. They would have little get togethers for no good reason at all. They would serve the perennial New Orleans favorites red beans and rice, king cake and drinks in plastic red cups. Then they would forget most of what happened and rely on others to fill in the gaps.

          They were the exception and not the rule. New Orleans residents are great people. They say hello when you walk down the street and ask how you're doing. They take the time to get to know you. They will offer to help in time of need and make you feel glad your there. There's no place like it on earth.
To be continued.....





Thursday, August 11, 2011

You wanker!

       I do it. You do it. Everybody does it or has done it at least once in their life. There are times when I might do it three or four times a day. I've done it at work, at the movies, in the park, on a train and on a bus. The thing is, nobody ever really wants to talk about it, not in private, not in public and sometimes not even to themselves, until now. MASTURBATION. It is the a great way to relieve stress, it alleviates sexual frustration and is a great way to kill some time on a rainy Saturday afternoon.


       Some people look down on this. They call it self abuse. I think it's only abuse when you've done it so much that James the giant peaches are bruised beyond recognition and they're sore to the touch. When things get that bad it's time to call a doctor, a therapist and a psychiatrist. The doctor will check you out to make sure that you haven't crippled James for life. The psychiatrist will give you a pill or three to help get that O.C.D. in check and last but not least the therapist will help you get to the root of, whatever the fuck is wrong with you. When it gets that bad there are probably several things wrong upstairs and rubbing one out is just the physical manifestation of those underlying mental issues.  
      I would like to share with you a few of the things I've learned about MASTURBATION.

Masturbation Myths

By , Guide

It's more acceptable for boys to masturbate than girls.

It's natural for boys and girls to masturbate - both do it.

A child who masturbates has been exposed to sexual information that is not appropriate for his/her age.

From birth, children explore their bodies by touching. They learn this feels good. Showing knowledge of sexual acts besides masturbation could mean they've been exposed to inappropriate sexual information.

Masturbation causes acne or loss of eyesight.

This oldie but goodie probably ties to the fact that teenagers generally start masturbating around the same time puberty hits, which is also the time of acne and when many teens get glasses.

Masturbation causes sexually transmitted diseases.

In order for a disease to be 'transmitted', you need two people. Mutual masturbation is actually taught in some sex education courses as a way to avoid sexually transmitted diseases.

Masturbation causes hair to grow on your palms.

About 98% of adults have reported that they've masturbated at some time in their lives. I don't know anyone with hair on their palms. How about you?

Teenagers shouldn't masturbate often, as they will lose the ability to have children.

Teenagers will tend to masturbate more often than adults as their hormone levels are at the highest they will be in their lifetime. Remember to knock when their door is closed - and don't worry - they will still be able to give you grandchildren. 

       So weather you peal the banana or beat the beaver it's healthy natural fun when done in moderation and if you get it on video you can make some money in your spare time. I won't judge you, just the quality of your video.

Monday, August 8, 2011

Fore the Bilbe tells me so.

       I have never been a religious man. I don't believe in god and I think the whole thing is a bit ridiculous. I have tried to make this whole faith thing make sense and it never does. Some people would say "It doesn't have to make sense because it's the word of GOD and GOD has a plan and who are you to question the word of GOD?" Well why the hell not!? I question everything. What's the use of having free will if you're not going to use it.

       People are always saying that the Bible says.... blah, blah, blah about blah and you shouldn't do blah. I wouldn't have a problem with this this if these very same people walked the walk and talked the talk but they seldom do. Hell they never do. Let me give you a few examples of things that practically never come up when I'm being condemned to hell.

       In Leviticus 19:27 it says don't cut your hair or shave your beard

       I have the most unruly hair know to man. It grows in funny and not the good kind of funny either. I'm talking about that kind of funny that makes you want to cross the street if you see me walking toward you on the sidewalk. Now, I'm no stranger to a comb. I've owned many combs over the years, big ones, small ones, metal ones and plastic. They all put up a good fight for a while but not one has ever been able to win the battle against my formidable mane. Remember the scene in Terminator 2 where the T-1000 gets shot in the head and it looks like it's about to fall off and 3 seconds later it's back to it's original state, good as new? That's my hair! You know how superman stands in the wind, red cape majestically waving in the breeze behind him. That's my hair! You know how when you miss that curve in the road and you hit that giant oak tree and your car bounces off and it's totaled and you're lucky to be alive. That's my hair! Why shouldn't I be able to cut it if I want to? It is my hair GOD damn it!

       In Exodus 28:42-43 it says that priests must wear special undergarments when they approach the alter, lest they die of guilt.

       Funny story! When I was in my early 20's I saw this guy in a bar. He was hot in a geeky kinda way. I went over and started talking to him. After many cocktails and an hour or two of not so subtle flirting we decided that it was time to take this show on the road and the road led right to his place, specifically to his bed room. He had a porn collection that would rival any video store back room and he was really into safe sex. He had a cornucopia of condoms right next to his bed and an industrial size bottle of lube with a pump on it that would dispense handfuls at a time. When he took of his pants I could help but marvel at how well he looked in his Calvin Klein underwear.  So, later, after a couple of handfuls and 2 or 3 condoms, the sun was up and he had to drop me off and get back and change because he had to go to the church and make sure that everything was set up for the wedding he had to perform latter that day.

       He called me a week later for a return engagement. Those Calvin's really were special undergarments. You have my word on it and to the best of my knowledge he's still alive. If he isn't I'll bet you money it wasn't guilt that killed him!

       In Deuteronomy 23:1 it says that if you are wounded in the testicles, or have your penis cut off you can not get into the congregation of the lord.

       When I was in the 5th grade we used to play dodge-ball during recess and there would always be some sick fuck on the other team who would take a break from aiming at your head and aim at your other head. I could usually avoid these sorties on the family jewels,  but on those occasions when that speeding red ball of pain made contact with James and the giant peaches, that was it for me. Game Over.  If I had know then what I know now I would have played tag instead. It doesn't really matter now because I don't think I would have like being a part of that congregation anyway. Have you seen the people in that congregation? I don't like spending ten minutes on the subway with them. I couldn't imagine an eternity.

        In Leviticus 24:13-16 it says that if you blaspheme you MUST be stoned to death!

       I should have been killed a thousand time over for that one.  Jesus Fucking Christ (see I just did it again) don't you think that's a little extreme? I like my name as much as the next guy, but a stoning, REALLY? I've gone off on some people for some stupid shit, but I have never taken it to that level. I know it can be hard sometimes when you come from a single parent family but you have to deal with it like everybody else. I'm just saying that maybe GOD needs to get some therapy, attend an anger management course and relax with a fat spliff.

       This much I know. According to the Bible I'm going to HELL. Chances are really good that you'll be there too. So start learning to like me now because we could be neighbors.

       Thank GOD, I'm an atheist!

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Hey brother could you spare a dime?

       I like to keep things light on here but sometimes I have to get serious. This country is in trouble and I don't think things are going to get better anytime soon. If you've followed me here from Facebook you may remember this July 4th status update.

"Good morning America! You're 235 years old and it's time for you to grow the fuck up. Seriously, how do you let yourself get $14,500,000,000,000 in debt? You keep running to the Chinese every time you run out of cash. You do know you have to pay that shit back, right? It's not like you can move back in with your parents when they foreclose on you. Tomorrow I want to talk to you about your children. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"
         There are 48million people in America who receive monthly Social Security or disability benefits. The overwhelming majority of those receiving these benefits are senior citizens  and people with disabilities.  These benefits account for most if not all of their income. They are some of the most vulnerable in our society and are  the most likely to live in poverty. Yet our government had chosen to use them as pawns and scapegoats in a battle over financial solvency. Totally disregarding the fact that they are responsible for our nations Titanic debt.
       When I was a teenager the national debt was just over $25,000 per taxpayer.  Now that sum has ballooned to over $130,000 per taxpayer and what do we have to show for it? We live in a state of fear. We have mediocre healthcare (unless you're rich, then you have the best healthcare in the world) and in education we're not doing much better. In a 2009 study done by the Organization for Economic Co-operation and  Development we are 14th in the world behind; South Korea, Finland, Canada, New Zealand, Japan, Australia, Netherlands, Belgium, Norway, Estonia, Switzerland, Poland and Iceland. We used to have the most educated people on the planet! Now look at us. We got beat by CANADA. To top it all off we're fat too. The fattest nation on the planet with an obesity rate of nearly 30% for all Americans.
       In short we're fat, deeply in debt and too dumb to figure away out of it. Or are we? I believe we know what must be done but we're too lazy to do it. It's time to open our eyes and take a good hard look at ourselves and stop spending money we don't have (government and private citizen alike). Pay off our debt. Read a book. Go back to school. Put down the fork, turn off the TV, log off and get some exercise. Get involved. Get informed. Get in shape. Because there are people out there who don't care about you because you don't care about you and they know it. This is the time for you to take a stand because there won't be a second chance.
       History is judging you.