June 20, 2018

I'm No Judge

They say we shouldn’t judge people, but who doesn’t?...hey, we ain’t monks, and I bet they do too...sometimes people hang out just to people watch...at the park, at the mall, at the bar...we judge people on how they dress, how they look, maybe how they talk, or how they don’t...we got the black robe and the powdered wig on and the gavel in our hand...and we are ready to pass sentence on the accused...a nice change of pace...it’s not fair maybe, but it is what it is...we jump to conclusions about people we really have no real idea about, but it’s kind of fun to do...and sometimes it’s better not to know too much about them...you might be in for a major letdown...some of my biggest heroes went to biggest zeroes when I actually met them and found out what kind of people they were in person...some look up to the rich and famous and judge them as being successful and a model for others, having no idea how these people may have gotten to where they are...some titans of industry climbed on the backs of the real workers to get where they got...we see a homeless man standing on the corner holding a sign asking for help, and we might look down on them...some idiots actually throw stuff at them...maybe we should look up to them...they aren’t holding some crappy 9 to 5 job they can’t stand...you see a guy in the $1500 suit, and the man in torn jeans and a dirty t-shirt...there is no way to tell who would turn on you, and who would be there for support...who’d have your back in a back alley fight?...who’d be there for you?...you can’t tell a book by its cover right?...I don’t have much experience with books but I’ve had the considerable misfortune of working in retail, and I’ll tell you, the nicest people to wait on were the bikers, and the kind that looked like they’d cut your throat for a dollar...on the other hand, the psychos normally were the most ‘normal’ looking who would go ballistic when they didn’t get their way...so there’s that...there’s been bottles of alcohol with a great looking label that I tasted and wouldn’t give to an enemy; and there’s some cheap junk I bought or somebody gave to me because they didn’t want it...that kicked my ass and tasted pretty good too...you just never know...appearances can be deceiving in case you didn’t know that already...five star restaurants or two star...the food’s usually better at the two star place...real food...I’ve gotten the best sleep in my life at places that were sketchy...cracked windows, peeling paint, sheets that didn’t fit the bed...shady characters hanging around the place...big rigs pulling in in the middle of the night crunching rocks under their tires...and waking you up in the morning...didn’t matter...sometimes the world is upside down...no not sometimes, most of the time...the best looking women that you chase all over often turn out to be the nastiest or most disappointing...and the ones that ain’t exactly Miss America are the ones with a good heart...there the ones you go home with at 3 a.m. when you know for sure that Miss America just ain’t going to be walking through the door that night...the ones that clean up after you, and forgive you for coming in at 4 a.m. when you said you’d be hope at 10...the ones that cook and take care of things while you’re out fucking around still looking for Miss America.

June 18, 2018

Haunted Houses

A haunted house is a house or can be some other type of building that is believed to be inhabited by disembodied spirits of the dead...these spirits are often former residents of the house, or were familiar with the property...there presence and haunting may be due to tragic circumstances as an accidental death, or perhaps a suicide...other times they are the result of a violent event that happened previously in the house or building...skeptics point out that scientific explanations for the perception that a house is haunted point to the misinterpretation of noises that naturally occur and are present in old structures...there are theories about suggestibility being a cause, and even hallucinations that might be caused by certain substances in the air...according to many ‘experts’,  odd or creaking sounds, and even cold spots are often present in any home... especially in older ones, and that these noises and bumps in the night can easily be mistaken...perhaps for footsteps in a hallway, or a banging sound which could even be a loose shutter in the wind...others meanwhile have reasoned that the perception of a ghost, or a cold spot in the house, and ghostly touches are triggered by variations in what are naturally occurring or man-made magnetic fields, nonetheless, some houses sit empty for years due to their ‘haunted’ reputation...but maybe the experts are right...yes maybe...or maybe there really are hauntings.

June 16, 2018


Maybe you’ve known somebody like this...I have...a kleptomaniac...a kleptomaniac or someone who suffers from kleptomania is a person who is unable to stop themselves from having the urge to steal items...usually from a store for example, although some kleptomaniacs steal personal items from people too...it is often done for reasons other than personal use or financial gain...in psychiatric circles, it is often classified as an impulse control disorder...some say it falls under the realm of obsessive-compulsive disorders...those who are experts in such matters say that there is a difference between standard theft and kleptomania...regular theft is done deliberately and is motivated by by the value of the object, or its usefulness is to the thief..., kleptomania however is prompted by the failure to resist impulses to steal even if the item is not needed or wanted for personal use, or even if it is of little or no value... it is said that some kleptomaniacs are racked with remorse and grief after they act upon their impulses and steal...others are not...in the case I’m familiar with, the girl had absolutely no grief or remorse about it...it was all about thrills and getting away with it...that is until the time she didn’t...but that’s another story...sometimes other mental disorders are present in the kleptomaniac...other times, not...even though it is a familiar issue, the afflicted are still made to suffer the consequences of the law when caught and are not given a ‘free pass’ because of their ‘illness.’

June 14, 2018

My First Poem

I was sitting at my desk the other night writing some poetry or in reality, trying to let the poetry write itself (God, that sounds so smug and sickening)...this night though, it was being lazy or had some kind of writer’s block or was at the corner bar...I gave up and had a few cold ones myself...during a break in the proceedings, for some reason I began thinking about what the first poem I ever wrote...I can’t be 100% sure, but the first one I remember was one that I did for a fourth grade class...and I’ve lived my life in fourth class ever since...I think we were studying Robert Frost or maybe that was just wishful thinking...I don’t remember, hell I can’t remember what I did yesterday...the poem we had to write, I don’t know, had to be sixteen or twenty lines or something...of course I had no idea of what to write but for some reason I came up with this...I don’t remember the whole poem but it went something like this:
I drink beer at the pier,
Whiskey makes me frisky,
Gin makes me sin,
I smoke when I drink Coke,
…and there were other similarly themed lines of ‘poetry’...I thought it was pretty funny and so did my friends...of course I was only 8 or 9 years old at the time...I have probably written worse things as an adult...I thought I’d get a failing grade on it but strangely enough, my teacher liked it and gave me an ‘A’...she must of been some kind of communist sympathizer, or a closet hippie...I don’t know if that inspired me to become a writer/poet, but it’s always nice to get some encouragement when you are young...
I was thinking of what might happen today if I wrote such a thing...maybe nothing at all, or in this age of overreaction, I’d get called down to the principal’s office and gotten grilled about it...my parents would of gotten their asses put before some social worker or by a Child Protection agency and have to explain why I would come up with such ideas...I’d probably even get suspended for being a bad influence...if so, it wouldn’t be the last time that happened...some psychologist might of read into it some suppressed feelings I was expressing or that somehow this was a first person account of actual events that I had accessed and processed and thusly I had regressed...of course that would have all been a bunch of bullshit, but that’s the kind of snowflakes that are running things now...it was just a silly poem but I wonder if today’s eyes would see it that way...we live in a fucked up world and it’s not because of goofy poems.

June 12, 2018

10 Hour Drive & You Can't Let A Friend Down

10 hour drive
some days i feel like
backing the car
out of the garage
and hitting the interstate
and just driving
in fact, i did that once
drove 10 hours to Toronto
once i got there
i didn’t know what to do
once i got there
so i had a couple of drinks
at a bar downtown and then left
i could of made it home quicker
but i stopped
to see a detroit tigers game
at old, decrepit tiger stadium
a once in a lifetime chance i figured
i thought my car
might not be there
after the game
but unfortunately it was
and i drove back home

you can't let a friend down

never again i swore
with my head spinning
my stomach churning
i should have known better
nevermore quoth the drunk

i found the floor
or it found me
and i passed out
and i woke up
and swearing off drinking

later the phone rang
a friend in town
wanting to go out for drinks
that night
well hell
you can’t let a friend down

June 10, 2018


There are some religions that sometimes call for the use of an exorcist...like the one in that movie...an exorcist is a person who is believed to have the ability to cast out the devil or other demons...this can be from a person, a building, or even an object...of course, this calls for specific instructions that a priest, a nun, a monk, a healer, a shaman or other person can be in possession of...such a procedure is called an exorcism...now depending on the spiritual beliefs of the exorcist involved, this can be done in a variety of ways...it may be done by causing the entity to swear an oath...it can also be done through an elaborate ritual, or it may be as simple, if there’s such a thing as simple in this process, by commanding it to depart in the name of a higher power...this practice of exorcism is very old and part of the belief system of many cultures and religions...it is said that there is a form of mental illness that causes the stricken to believe that they are possessed by a demon, or some such thing...that’s what the medical professionals believe and they discount any actual possession taking place...some have performed criminal acts and later said that they were ‘possessed’ at the time...some psychiatrists are believers and have done studies, but those are subject to ridicule and scorn by other ‘professionals’...even Mother Teresa supposedly was subject to an exorcism after she felt she "might be under the attack of the evil one”...these days exorcisms are even performed via cell phone...ain’t that crazy?..

June 8, 2018

The Late Train

I was coming home from downtown the other night on the late train...I wasn’t doing nothing downtown but walking around and hitting up a couple of dark bars and trying to look like I belonged...the darker, the better...I don’t take the train much (I’m usually a bus man) so I was not blasé at the experience like most train riders are...the downtown station has people going somewhere, people trying to go somewhere, people going nowhere, and people going nowhere and not caring about it...an old black man was blowing the sax (not very well) but I threw some money in his case anyway... he looked like he could use a drink...the flower shops and newsstands were shutting down for the night...I stumbled onto the right train and slumped in the seat...beaten down by another day...we started rolling...the gleaming buildings shouting affluence and power; something I never had...
Instead of the train being crowded with people coming back from their precious nine to five jobs, the car I was in had only a few passengers in it which only increased the isolation factor...nobody rides the train at night unless you have to...you can feel alone on a train car full of people, or you can feel it even more on an almost empty one...yet, the two types of isolation are different...as we left the downtown station, I looked out the window at all the buildings; buildings that still had lights on for various reasons...security to keep people like me out or just as likely, people working late...real people doing real work...cleaning the empty offices that were jammed hours ago...we pulled away farther from the downtown area and got into the surrounding areas...here, the buildings were not so tall and you could see an occasional figure through the windows as we passed...they looked to me like ghostly figures, standing alone in the stark fluorescent light...what kind of lives do they lead?...I almost felt sorry for them, but they probably had a better life than I did...why are they there this time of the night?...who or what do they go home to?...the questions drifted through my mind as we wobbled down the track, the train blowing its horn at nobody in particular.  
As we got into an obviously poorer area of the city (my part of town), we also passed many buildings were abandoned, some obviously with boarded up doors and windows, others that had areas that were covered up with tall weeds, like some kind of scraggly beard that had grown on an old man down on his luck...these buildings were down on their luck too... they were illuminated only by a harsh security light that also reflected the broken shards of glass on the ground...me a romantic?...but I wondered what those buildings once were, who worked there, what company owned it, and furthermore, what had happened that caused the once bustling workplace to rust, deteriorate, or collapse...maybe it was a shift in the neighborhood, or it was an outsourcing of the jobs that the people once held...I thought the buildings looked sad... an old abandoned building or house always looks so sad to me...it has it in spades...probably nobody cared but me...it sure looked like it.