Immoartality

All men fear death.

It's a natural fear that consumes us all.

We fear death because we feel that we haven't loved well enough or loved at all, which ultimately are one and the same.

However, when you make love with a truly great woman, one that deserves the utmost respect in this world and one that makes you feel truly powerful, that fear of death completely disappears. Because when you are sharing your body and heart with a great woman the world fades away...

You two are the only ones in the entire universe. You conquer what most lesser men have never conquered before, you have conquered a great woman's heart, the most vulnerable thing she can offer to another.

Death no longer lingers in the mind.
Fear no longer clouds your heart.

Only passion for living, and for loving, become your sole reality. This is no easy task for it takes insurmountable courage. But remember this, for that moment when you are making love with a woman of true greatness you will feel immortal.

The Shadowboxer

Like a prize fighter and a heavy bag
Your words spit like left and right hooks
A look in your eye like you’ve got something to prove
You don’t ask, baby you demand

Your words cut and stab
Like a fencer, you dart and weave
Your verbs are sharp and your adjectives so spry
Your pen is a rapier, your pencil a saber: these words are lethal

A marker in your hand is like a finger on a trigger
Your rhymes are more accurate than a pistol in a sharpshooter’s right hand
Focused, calm, calculated and clear
Your sight is precise; your aim is deadly

Like a martial arts master, you’re trained to fight
Every line, every sentence every word is a knock out
Suspense is like a chokehold; I’m gasping for air
Black belts don’t hit this hard

If you can kill with your words and send me into submission on stage
If your poetry is like lethal weapons springing off your tongue
Then how come when it’s just us I feel like you’re talking to yourself?
Just shadowboxing in an empty ring…

My First Toilet

My toilet broke two weeks ago.

I "fixed" it about eight times before actually I fixed it.

String, dental floss, and a coat hanger were my main tools in my amateur plumbing venture.

None of them did the trick. Nothing would suffice the constant whirling of my porcelain alter.

I needed that little plastic lever. The one my roommate must have cracked off in a fit of passion between him and his Peruvian lover.

I needed it badly.

I had been reaching into the sort-of-clean water in the back of my toilet for about three days when I finally had enough.

I sped my Grand AM over to the local Lowe's. This was an emergency. I needed that little plastic lever more than anything else in the world at that point. That was the day I fixed the goddamn toilet. Enough of being lazy. Enough murky back of-the-toilet water. I was going to fix my toilet.

I found one of the nice mustached middle-aged men who work in Home Depots and Lowe's all across America. He was very helpful despite plumbing not being his forte. This Super Mario Look alike was a carpenter, but he was ready to help me out as best he could.

I found the piece and sped right back to my little, college apartment. This was my first apartment, my first toilet, my first home improvement.

I lifted the porcelain toilet cover off the back and got to work. I plunged my hand into the sort-of-cold water and grabbed that chain. I threaded the arm through the hole in the back of the toilet and hooked the chain onto the arm. I tightened the nut on the arm/lever piece. Gave it a test flush. And …

Tumblr

I thought about making a Tumblr.

I made a real blog for all my stupid thoughts and stories instead.

There's just so many.