I know it’s hard to tell just by looking at me, but I try not to do the fast food thing very often. But as a single man living in Midtown, sometimes it’s difficult to avoid. Plus deep in the back of your head you know some of this shit has gots to be bad for you. Take McDonald’s for example, you got your basic Big Mac with it’s special sauce, two meat patties and all the other shit that makes it up. Not a bad tasting burger but two of em surpasses the daily recommend caloric intake. Usually when I hit Mickey D’s I tend to stick with either the fish or regular cheeseburgers. Plus you ever notice that a McDonalds burger will fill you up quicker than anything else? I ain’t saying shit but something’s in that meat. Then there’s Burger King, not bad cause it’s flame broiled, or at least that’s what they say. I love the Whopper’s but I always scrape off the special sauce. Just tastes better to me that way. Plus it’s called “special sauce”. I’m just sayin is all. Also have you noticed the jumping the shark shit going on between Mickey D’s and Burger King? Come the fuck on, tacos at fuckin BK. What’s up with that? Then you got the pork rib sandwich at McDonalds. Just looking at that shit’ll make a Muslim break into the sweats. Then you got Hardies. Back in the day Hardies made a tenderloin sandwich that was the shit but they dropped it around twenty years ago. Muthafucker’s. I only get to eat at Hardies when I’m traveling for the Man, cause they’ve all moved out of Midtown years ago. Again I stick with the basics like regular cheeseburgers or the double. They got the sickest commercial ever. It deals with their new double chili cheeseburger. The commercial shows this muthafucker eating one of these coronary ass bombs. He’s holding the thing with both hands and shit’s falling off of it and every time he takes a bite the audio is set so that you can hear the fucking juices squirting between his teeth and it just makes a muthafucker wanna go vegan quicker then shit. It’s just nasty. Then there’s Arby’s and Jack in the Box. Two more places I never get too unless I’m on the road. Arby’s ain’t bad but Jack in the fuckin box has so much shit on the fuckin menu I get confused every time I drive up to one. You also got Taco Bell. Yeah right. All I can say about them is that I’ve never seen real Mexicans eat at one if that means anything. Last on my list is White Castle. These muthafucker’s moved out of these here parts a few years ago and left behind nothing but broken hearts and shattered dreams. There was nothing better then after a night of hard liquoring then to drop by one and get a bag of belly bombs and head home to the couch. The taste stayed with you for hours and when you took that ginoramus crap the next morning you could swear you still smelled em. Matter of fact I’m thinking about driving to St. Louis one weekend and scoring a few. Well, actually more then a few. You’ll swear ! I was haulin dope in my trunk the way I’m gonna packrat those muthafucker’s away. Saaalute! Peace


This was a very uneventful weekend for me, I didn’t save the world or myself, and no mind-blowing revelations came my way. Friday at work I spent most of the day dragging my big ass on the floor. Staying out late on Halloween tried my endurance to no end. I like to think it’s because I wake up every morning at five thirty and not the fact that I’m getting older. Regardless, I was a dragging muthafucker on Friday. So that night I just wanted a quite evening at home. Michelle was coming over so I cooked and she brought extras along with Rusty her boyfriend. So we ate and watched the TV and lounged on the couch. Everyone left around ten and I went straightway to bed. I must’a slept like a dead man cause I woke up at six in the morning feeling unusually chipper. As a matter of fact I was feeling so chipper I went out soon after and did laundry. But just going to do the wash turned into a lesson in “what the fuck”. Midtown Kansas City is almost cut dead down the center by Main Street and Broadway. That morning Kansas City was holding some huge ass marathon and the Man had both Main and Broadway blocked off. So if a muthafucker wanted to get on the other side of Midtown, which meant crossing both these streets, they were fucked. I had to do a five-mile loop just to detour around all the runners. But it was cool; I wasn’t in no hurry. But it’s just another of the strange things you gotta deal with living in Midtown Kansas City. After all that I wanted breakfast so I dropped by the supermarket in my neighborhood to grab something. They got this deli kind of thing where they have all the breakfast fixings already cooked and shit. It’s cheaper then Mickey D’s and gots to be better for you. So I had em wrap up some bacon and eggs, a little sausage and some other shit. I highly recommend it for when you wake up and don’t wanna cook or sit in a crowded greasy spoon b! ut gots the urge for a good breakfast. I ran into my pal Krista who’s doing the part-time thing there for a while. We chatted each other up for a while then on my way I went. I got home and ate then I realized, fuck, it’s only ten in the morning and I’ve already done all the important shit for the day. So I took my ass back to bed for another four hour’s or so. Later that night I went out to the Cane. I was in the mood to be bad cause I’d been so good on /Friday, plus I was bored shitless and wanted to shake some things up. When I got there I found out the band for the night was the Legendary Pink Dots. The name meant nothing to me but the Filter had mentioned in passing that he had opened up for em some years back and was really hyped that they were playing here in town. They were very melodic and all that, but not my cup of tea. But again I was in the minority; cause the crowd was very much into em. So I just sat there shoving drinks into Cassie whilst watching some cat try to hit on her. Like I said, an uneventful weekend. Peace


There’s something vaguely comforting about this years TV season. It’s like sitting down with old friends and hanging out on the couch and shit. On Mondays after work I can look forward to swinging by the Hurricane and sitting down with Mito and Walter who’s all into SpongeBob Squarepants. If it weren’t for Mito’s perky features and my peculiar love of the Hurricane coffee, I would’a never been exposed to the queer antics of SpongeBob and his underwater pals. Then that night after I get home I sit down with my testosterone enhanced friends of pro wrestling. Two solid hour’s of enjoying the muscle ripped male ballet that is Monday Night Raw. On Tuesday’s I look forward with retarded glee to the demon killing blood fest that is Buffy The Vampire Slayer. I so love my time with Xander, Spike, Buffy, Giles, Willow, Dawn, Anya, and all the other denizens of the HellMouth that is Sunnydale California. A thousand years from now Buffy The! Vampire Slayer will be ranked amongst the greats and spoken in the same breath as Lucy, Bewitched, and other reverent television programming of the twenty first century. After that I watch Smallville on the TV. It’s all about Superman growing up in his small town. Plus his mother’s that hot ass Annette O’Toole. On Wednesdays I’m out, so I don’t watch TV. But on Thursday’s I tune into SmackDown! Another two hours of scantily clad men and women flinging their muscular, sweaty bodies at each other in a primal dance of passion and staged anger. A show where nobody uses their inner voice, hell no! ON THIS SHOW THEY USE THEIR LOUD OUTSIDE VOICES THAT SHOW THEY MEAN EVERY-FUCKIN-WORD-THEY-FUCKIN-SAY! On Friday’s I look forward to Firefly. This show has caught my heart not only because it’s cleverly written and has an outer space theme, but the same mastermind that penned Buffy also pens it! Word! After that is the intriguing show called John Doe. Now this muthafucker kills me. He washe! s up on shore with a strange birthmark and no memory of who he is. But he knows absolutely every muthafuckin thing on the planet, every language, every known fact. He spends his time working the stock market and solving crimes. What a killer pretence. Oh shit! I do watch TV on Wednesday nights. I watch fuckin Enterprise who has the hottest Vulcan around. And I also do Birds Of Pray, which is growing on me. It’s a takeoff on the BatMan story. Here’s the deal as well as I can remember it. Batman has this epic battle with the Joker and whips his ass. The Joker in his frustrated anger pops a cap in the Commissioner’s daughter, who happens to be BatGirl on the side. BatGirl’s paralyzed and wheelchair bound for the rest of her life. So heartbroken BatMan gets out of the crime fighting shtick and skid addles for the hills. But years into the future, Batgirl’s still fighting crime, just from her wheelchair. And has a partner who just happens to be the illegitimate daughter of Batman! and get this, fuckin CatWomen! Who fuckin knew! Anyway it’s a cool show and it’s growing on me. Saturdays I don’t do much TV cause I’m out drinking and getting my groove on and shit. Sunday’s it’s Angle killing demons in LA. Well, I think that cover’s it. peace



I neglected to vote yesterday. I looked at all the candidates, but I was so turned off by all the negative bullshit all over the TV that I just said fuck it. It seems to me that all the in fighting and backstabbing, especially when it’s done in a public forum sometimes blinds us regular folks to the real issues. So in my case I stopped listening and changed the channel. And don’t give me that shit that voting is my God given right as an American and all that other shit people tend to spout at you. Fuck you; it’s also my right as an American not too. Changing lanes, on this Winona Ryder shoplifting thing? What’s the fuckin deal? If the bitch had been just another average hump she would’a never gotten some of the special considerations she’s been getting. But when you’re a so-called star and got the cake to afford the best legal coverage, you can play things out like she’s been doing. This is probably the most press Winona’s gotte! n in a while. But seriously, take Winona and strip her ass nekked, no wait, leave her clothes on and spray her down with baby oil and then throw her and a box of Doc Johnson products into a room full of San Francisco dykes and film the whole shitting thing for pay for view. It was pretty entertaining Monday movie night at the Empire Room. Steve pulled out one of his Troma Vision selections for our amusement. I put in a request for Reform School Girls staring Windy O. Williams. Windy was a punk singer from back in the day and I think this was her only role in a movie. Plus the movie features a bad ass Sybil Danning as the Warden of the prison. It’s a great film if for nothing else it features a lot of nekked flesh including Windy Williams herself! To be a young man during the early eighties and digging the Plasmatics then finding a movie staring the lead singer nekked was blissful heaven in a porno/lesbian/prison sex/ punk kind way. I recommend it to any fan of old school punk music and nekked chicks in prison films.



Yesterday I had to go over to my mother’s house to help her move some furniture around. I got there before she made it home from church and when I let myself in my sister’s two giant ass cats greeted me at the front door. Goddamn they’re some big hairball-puking fuckers. They look like something fuckin Tarzan ought‘a be fightin and shit in the fuckin jungle. My sister was out of town and so my mother was baby-sitting the big bastards while she was gone. Jesus, I thought my cat was big but damn. Anyway I’m sitting in my mother’s house looking around whilst keeping a wary eye on the two wildebeests tromping back and forth and I got to staring at her latest hobby. She’s learned how to sign, taken computer classes and now she’s painting her bedroom. But her constant hobby is making pottery figures. And I must say she’s not half-assed bad. She has this huge tackle box full of paints and brushes and after firing the figures in the kil! n she brings em home and paints em. She’s even given me a few, though when your mom makes you an incense holder with a nekked chick on it, you just take the muthafucker and back away slowly. But I dig it and it matches my décor. Anyway I’m looking around at all the figures when it hits me. This is my mother’s fetish. This is what gets her off. Some people dress up in drag, some beat each other with whips and some tape the neighbors doing it. But my mother’s fetish is making these cheerful little clay figures and sticking them all over the house. Is there a name for that? Potteryphile maybe? After I got home I watched a couple of DVD’s I rented. The first one was the “Sum of all Fears” by Tom Clancy. I’d read the book some months earlier and it really peaked my interest and all that. I’m not usually a fan of intrigue and mystery and shit but Tom writes the shit in such a way that when you’re done reading you’re glad to be alive and shit. (did I actually use the word “shit” th! ree times in one sentence?) I was hyped to see the movie so I made some tuna salad sandwiches and got all comfy and shit in front of the TV. I’m not a huge fan of Affleck but Morgan Freeman is one of the baddest muthafucker’s in the house, so that made it better. One of the early scenes in the movie fucked me up to some degree. They showed this satellite image of this mountain top compound and I said to myself, “fuck, I know that place”. It was fuckin Mt. Weather in fuckin West Virginia. Hell, I’ve been there bunches of times for training and all that. After all, Mt. Weather is a FEMA facility, and it’s all that and a bag of chips if you get my drift. So that was kind’a cool to see. I enjoyed the movie except for the issue in that for most of the movie they made the Jack Ryan character into this vapid fem little pussie who couldn’t clean his own ass without help. He’s running around trying to assert himself and everybody and their mother is telling him to fuck off. If it was! n’t for the fact that they made a big issue of showing Ryan rippin off a piece of ass early in the film they could’a called it the gayest sum of all fears. But all in all it was ok. After that I watched the much-hyped “Spiderman”. I’m what you would call a casual comic book fan at best. When I was younger I read all the greats and tried to keep up with current trends but I’m in no way a fanboy or anything like that. But I am a fan of a good action story and well-drawn and scripted character’s. And of course having the fuckin thing directed by Sam Raimi rocked. After all this is the man who put out the Army of Darkness amongst others and produced the Hercules and Xena television series. But lets see, how did the characters stand on their own? Tobey Maguire made for a believable Peter Parker/Spiderman. I didn’t like the way he treated Aunt May and his uncle. Until Spiderman I’d never heard of the muthafucker. Willem Defoe as the Green Goblin was a great choice. Defoe’s such a ! crazy fuck in the first place and he really is a case study of dual personalities going apeshit. Kirsten Dunst has a nice rack and pulls off the dirty little waitress uniform like a muthafucker. And she looks great wet. So I enjoyed the movie and most likely will see it again. Peace


I hope the fuckin kids in Eudora, Kansas have a good time trick or treating tonight. You’ve all heard about that shit haven’t you? Yeah, fuckin get this, the muthafuckin Man in Eudora in his all seeing wisdom decided to cancel Halloween and move it to Friday. It seems that the local high school football team was scheduled to play this huge game on Halloween. So the Man figured that with the traffic and all from the big game (like Eudora is some huge thriving ass metropolis) that trick or treaters were in danger of getting run over. So they moved Halloween back one day to accommodate the game. What the fuckin fuck! You don’t tug on Superman’s cape or spit into the wind and you don’t fuck with Halloween! What the hell is wrong with these people? Is this town so smitten with pigskin fever that it never crossed their minds to move the football game to Friday? Talk about some backasswards shit, now all the little kids are gonna be sw! eatin Christmas, scared that it might get moved. I hung out at the Cane last night for a while, with the exception of a Girl Scout or two and Jesus slinging drinks it was ok for what it was. Sometimes it’s hard to look around that bar and remember that you’re staring at a room full of so called responsible adults. But as any shrink worth their salt will attest too, you stick your average muthafucker in a mask or make em anonymous and the asshole quotient ramps up. It’s like that dick that calls you at dinner trying to collect on a bill or sale something. On the phone they’re some brave muthafucker’s, but recognize the voice on the street and narc the person out, they back pedal like little bitches. But I guess that’s what Halloween’s all about, the chance to be someone else. Peace


Quote of the week. "It made me sick, kids putting penises on other kids' heads? What does that do for a child's manhood?" This is from the father of a fifteen year old kid in Philly who’d had his head shaved and was “tea-bagged” by some of his teammates. You know what? Years from now when this little fist-fucker’s all grown up and goes on a maniacal killing rampage where he cuts the cocks off his victims as trophies, they’ll be able to point way back to this tea-bagging incident as a kid to where it all went sour. This is another fucked up example of how hard some kids have it. It’s bad enough being a teenager trying to make it thru high school where your stinkin ass won’t shower after PE class cause you’re sexually immature and scared to show your nekked ass in the shower. Your acne lo! oks like road rash and your fuckin braces are pickin up radio talk shows, so now all you hear is Paul Harvey’s old ass during the day and you’ve become grandpa’s new best friend because if it. The closest you get to pussy is your cat, and your old man’s down on you cause you’re sporting eyeliner and black fingernail polish. You little Goth freak! And now your mom caught you punchin the monkey this morning when she went up to wake you up for school and now she’s all freaked out and shit and gone and made an appointment with Father Grabass up at the church to talk to you. And now to top the whole muthafuckin bullshit heap off, some of the football team caught you smoking in the locker room after their practice and after holding you down in the shower and shaving your fuckin head they spent the next ten minutes doing this fucked up porn star shit smacking you across the face with their cocks like you was their bitch and shit! And now your tea-baggin story is all over the fuckin! Net and you’re forced to move to another school to escape the stinkin ridicule. But it’s too late, the new school knows what happened, the entire church where your family prays at knows and last night someone covered your mom’s car with wet tea bags as some kind of fucked up joke. Your whole stinkin life as a teenager has just gone swirling down the crapper. But hey, it could be worse, right? PeacE



It was a festive night at the Empire Room on Monday, or at least for me it was. The crappy weather had me all down plus daylight saving time had just kicked in. It’s gonna suck waking up and going to work in the dark and getting off work in the fuckin dark. So I was in one of my over the top moods that only my good friends understand and casual friends never seem to get. It’s when I say exactly whatever comes into my head and don’t really care at what volume it comes out or who hears it. I think it’s my inner child wanting to come out and play. So last night I stomped into the Empire Room and there sat Steve along with a couple of women who turned out to be PornHusker chicks. For the folks in the back that don’t know, whenever the punk band the PornHuskers perform they usually have the hardcore fetish chicks dancing nekked on stage amongst other things. It’s always a visual treat but just don’t get too close. That is unless you ! know what you’re doing. Adults only if you get my drift. Anyway in I walked and the verbal shittage started flowing. One of the girls mentioned something about ass cramps and I agreed with her on how much those suck. That then brought to mind my story about alien abduction and the fact that a cat wouldn’t mind being taken up for medical alien probing and shit if the cheapass alien’s would fix a muthafucker up with the big Dirk Diggler unit as probatory compensation and shit. Not that I don’t dig my shit and all that but damn, come off the big dick or winning lotto numbers, you know? My verbal assaultage must have been new to the bartender cause when I looked up the cat had tears in his eye’s he was laughing so hard. Either that or he was dealing with a bad visual. Angela and her man Paul showed for the first time and they quickly got into the spirit of things. There was much screaming at the screen and most of it came from my table. The movie was ripe with bad hairstyles, ba! d dialogue and even worse acting, which made it a target for whatever we threw at it. After the movie as we were all at the bar tabbing out I found out that one of the PornHusker chicks was an ordained minister such as myself. What a small world. Peace


I smashed my diddle finger. Yup, I was at work on Friday and was helping a cat load some shit into a van when the load shifted and came down on the end of my finger. It was a shitload of weight and it smushed that muthafucker like nobody’s business. It hurt so bad all I wanted to do was curl up in a fetal position and call for my mommy. My diddle finger was squirting out blood like it was coming out of a water pistol. I had the presence of mind to make it to the first aid station on my floor and call for Melissa, who’s not only a mom but too hot to boot. She helped me wrap up my booboo and made it all feel better. Yeah, until I fuckin moved! Then the pain started up all over again. After work I got to the Cane and Mito gave me a pain pill she happened to have on her. Yeah I know, as a rule I don’t pop strange pills but this was the exception. I’m not sure what it was but it stopped the pain and left me feeling very mellow. I cal! led up Cassie and asked her to come down and hang out with me and later on Sara and Cory showed up and we drank in memory of my poor diddle finger. As a matter of fact everything was cool until I went home that night and fell into bed. I must’a had a bad dream cause somehow while asleep I hit my hand! So if any of you muthafucker’s living in midtown was up around three or four Saturday morning and heard a omni-directional scream from hell and the dogs started barking and shit whilst your cat started pissing and shredding the drapes. It was most likely me being torn from my sleep after smackin my fucking hand against the headboard of the bed and screaming like a little stuck bitch. Word. Saturday Michelle and I hooked up and went running around. We paid a visit to KC’s oldest purveyor pf porn, Ray’s Playpen. Ray’s has been the place for porn since back in the day and it used to cover most of a city block, but it’s much smaller now. It was one of those places back in the day w! here a cat could pop into and throw down for a bunch of quarters and hit the booth and watch all the porn a young kid could handle. So we slid in and took a look around. It was fun watching all the cats look at Michelle while at the same time makin sure they didn’t catch me catch them looking. That’s what I think I love most about my female friends; except for a couple of exceptions they only look normal. (did I say that right?) So we hung out for a while then we split up cause she had shit to do and I had this huge urge for tuna salad. She did go with me to the store for tuna salad though. It was the funniest shit; the guy’s behind the deli were getting my order together and eyeballin Michelle who was over in the corner sizing up the summer sausages. That rocked, but I guess you had to be there. Peace



All right, somebody’s gotta say it so I guess it’ll be me. Why must we men be subjected to all the endless feminine hygiene commercials on TV? Don’t you women know all this shit by now? Jesus Christ on a stick! I don’t want to know what the fuckin thing looks like, much less the shapes it come in for that comfort fit and to avoid leakage? Oh my God! They’re on the fuckin TV talking about vaginal leakage! I don’t need to hear that shit when I’m sippin a Dr. Pepper. The fuck? Or that one with the red dot, what the hell is that all about. You don’t see us men putting out commercials about ball rot, now do you? No! Cause we don’t need to always talk about that shit. But women have this insane fascination with their bodily functions and they love making men suffer for it just cause we’re the one with dicks. The other night I’m watching wrestling and on comes a commercial that showed a heavy rain storm, then a fair to middling rain, t! hen a light shower. The voiceover goes on to ask which one reminds you of your period. Ooh! Ooh! Didn’t need to know that! And that thing you women have about your assess being all fresh and shit. Sweetheart’s, that’s all fine and good but when you get to the point that you needs to spray that muthafucker down with whatever, you need to keep your stinkin ass away from me or take a fuckin bath. Somebody needs to enact a law that says the only time commercial’s dealing with feminine hygiene products can be shown is during the fuckin soap operas and while Oprah’s ass is on. Or for every feminine hygiene commercial shown we men get to see sixty seconds of girls on trampolines. Peace


I came back to work on Wednesday much to mixed regrets. On one hand I was just getting into the groove of not having to work but on the other hand I was bored to tears and missed work. I guess deep down regardless of how much I bitch and moan I’m one of those rare people that really love what they do. And as soon as I fuckin figure out what I do I’ll tell a muthafucker. They finally caught the sniper up around the DC area; I and millions of other Black folk were rocked to our heels to find out the cocksucker was black. Shame on a muthafucker, but it goes to show that Blacks are finally equal to the White man in the lets go kill a bunch of muthafucker’s aspect. There’s a few things that’s always been of great pride to the Black man in America. Jesus is black; Martin Lawrence won’t live forever, and except for that fucker in Atlanta back in the day no Black American has ever gone on a mass killing spree. But hey, lets get off the ! bad news shit and onto the fun things. Here’s something the Filter sent me a while back, check it out, it’s harmless fun. Kind’a cool huh? I showed it to my pal Michelle last night and I finally had to pry the mouse out’a her fingers. It’s like eating fuckin potato chips; you can’t stop with one. I’ve been asked more then once about going to any of the hunted housed they got going on around here, cause as somebody’s Mom took great pains to inform me. Kansas City has the best-haunted houses in the country. What the fuck ever, I don’t do scary movies and I sure in the hell ain’t going to do any muthafuckin haunted houses. I don’t care how fine the chick is that wants to go, and that goes for haunted sleigh rides too. I have a hard enough time keeping my head on straight as it is without that kind of shit fuckin with it. Now, if a certain person would unass that Wonder Woman costume she’s! been hording, I just might be inclined to do some shit. Peace