taxed

It stopped raining. I have the day off. My 15month old boy started beatboxing yesterday. All the neighbors heard me and his mom yelling at each other the night before last. We might take the ferry into the city. Leon's never been on a boat before. I feel relatively alright considering the amount of whiskey and beer I drank yesterday. Today will be a good one for smoothing things over with the boy's mama. We're going to be a family on an outing. Uh oh. Baby just pinched a loaf. Whatta stinker.

If I shed these skins they won't be mine alone.
And the ones not mine will miss the throne I call my home.
That they'll be less without me
that they backseat drove to doubt me
will be a fate that I could not condone.


I like rhymes.

The new store opened. Today I worked from 5:45-2:30 and then again from 5:45-10:45. Why am I still up? Oh yeah. Now I don't have to go to work until Ten. ( This Beer Is Delicious )

So, Robopacalypse was an easy and fun read. So was Ready Player One. Now we'll see if I can say the same for Empire State. Maybe then I can get back to The City & The City.

Its tough to get into a book that isn't a piece of cake after these long exhausting days I've had since my girlfriend got pregnant and my son was born. I don't sleep like I used to with the baby boy's teeth still bustin thru, and usually the only time I get to read is when I'm dropping a deuce or right before bed.

I'm also reading Charley Harper's ABCs. that shit is dope

I work at a place where there are several people in management positions who have authority. Learning what the chain of command is and who you can go to with what issues is a challenge of its own. My own particular job is one that I basically accomplish without the help of anyone else and the management directly above me is for the most part unnecessary. This makes the idiots mad. Its ridiculous to see these managers frustrated by the fact that I do an awesome job. I can't wait to win the lottery so I can tell them to fuck off, but maybe I'll start my own business first and say nothing as I quietly slip away towards my own inevitable success. Fuck those fuckers.

I spent Sunday feasting with a houseful of people who I've known and loved mine or their whole lives. And we're still all good. My 1yo Boy got a hug and a kiss from every one of them.My people are good ones.
Happy Holidays If That's What You're Into!

Sup Mofuggies.

I'm been busy.
I have one full time job and a part time job and a baby and his momma to take care of. This shit is hell real though.

Well, dude's actually hardly a baby anymore anyways. Tomorrow Lee's going to be 1, count 'em, 1! year's old. That was the fastest year ever. He went from taking his first step to walking in a week and a half and is almost sleeping through the night now. I taught him to say "light". He loves peas and blueberries and yogurt. Today I'm going to spike his formula with a little bit of cow milk. Shit is fucking crazy yo.

This kid is so cute its almost surprising that he sprang from these loins right here.

And he's cool as fuck too. So cool I might have to make his mom take a DNA test.

I wish I had the time and money to provide and still get out once in a while. Shit is tight around here. Babies cost money.

And becoming a parent is enough of a reality shift to set you stumbling. Its a fucking culture shock. If you knew me better you might understand, but whatever. There's something very humanizing about this whole experience too. Almost monkeyizing, really. We are some social ass beasts, people. A lot of this stuff is so natural and nothing at all new its almost boring. Especially to parents of twins and mormons. They must think I'm in 1st grade. But they could have a million kids and none of them would be half as cool as my son. Can private citizens own pope-mobiles? Shit.

Well, shit is different. I barely go anywhere anymore cept to work for money to buy diapers and home to change them. But my son's about to be 1 and soon enouhgh he"ll be able to change his own diapers.