"Kill Bill" is fuckin' sick.

Thanks to the great time change this morning where everybody and their mama got an extra hour to sleep, I was affected in a manner that not many people think about unless it happens to them: I was forced to work and extra hour in my 12 hour shift. Around 10pm last night, Daphne IM's me and asks me if the time would be changing back an hour later on that night. I dismiss it thinking that a)I haven't heard anybody talking about it, and b) doesn't that shit happen in November? After a few minutes of asking around on the 'Net it dawns on me that it was the night. I was unphased at first, but then it hit me. I'm gonna have to work an extra fuckin' hour.

It was the longest shift possible. To top it off, tons of our clients were having scheduled downtimes to take advantage of the extra overnight hour and our web monitors were going off like a fireworks show. What fucked me up the most was that as I was driving home from work at about 5:30, THE SUN WAS COMING UP. You ever see those commercials or movies where people go into a bar or a club when it is daylight, party all through the night and leave just as the sun was coming up? Well, it felt eerily like that except for the fact that I wasn't partying all night. So I guess that means that it wasn't like that at all. Uhh..yeah.

I'm paid salary, so my company pretty much has me by the balls when it comes to overtime. I started to thinking and realized that hey, I get to work an 11 hour shift in six months. MUHAHAHAHAHAH, I got them.

Kool Keith is going to love this. The following post is something I wrote in response to somebody saying that the Rap Artist E-40 wasn't "real" Hip Hop.

The West Coast Hip Hop has a different "foundation" as opposed to other parts of the country. What you percieve to be "true Hip Hop music" will obviously be different that what someone like myself would appeciate, so I respect and understand your opinion, Xcel. But let's be serious. Other than "Automatic", what other 40 joints do they play there in your neck of the woods? E-40, though he may not fit what most backpackers/Hip Hop purists believe as being "real", is a man has paid dues for years before blowing up on the level he has. Believe me, I was were in Vallejo when he was slangin' tapes out of his trunk at Babe Ruth baseball games at Wilson Park. And I'm talkin like '88, '89.

But even other than that, he is the consummate Hip Hop artist. He struggled to blow up doing what he wanted to do the way he wanted to do it. He didn't resort to selling out the West Coast style for one that is more popular at the time. He was ahead of his time with the slang, the word play, and most defnitely the cadence. On the way he's gradually added more conscious lyrics to his work making him a viable voice in Bay Area and West Coast Hip Hop.

And as an open-minded Hip Hop head, you can't go drawing lines around what is Hip Hop and what is not. Whether you want to believe it or not, Ice Cube is just as much Hip Hop as Aceyalone. You can't go excluding parts of Hip Hop when they are all the by-products of the same things.

Don't get this twisted. I'm not one of those "Yo, Tupac is the GOAT and Cash Money was the hardest label" fool. I've been in this Hip Hop shit for 10 years. I went from a commercial head, to lovin' the West Coast gangsta style, to getting on the East's nuts, to straight backpacker style. But now that I'm old, I like what I think is good music. Fuck labels. Fuck trying to create boundries within the music and within the culture. Just accept it as a whole and appreciate what YOU like. But I dont' think there are many people alive that can dictate what is and what is not "real" Hip Hop. This shit is only 30 years old. We start drawing lines now and we jeopardize the longevity of this culture that we love so much. I love this shit. I live this shit. When I can can't support physically, I support with my wallet and with my energy. So yo, there isn't time to knock people off a mountain we're all trying to get to the top of. Yo, this cat may not be Talib or Del, but there's no denying that E-40 is a Hip Hop artist.

I get caught saying fucked up things sometimes. It started young too. Like about 9 years old. One time, I remember saying really loud "We can't share our house with people like that," as a few of my mom's guests walked into the doorway. The bad thing is that they heard me. I had this phase in 8th grade when I'd call everybody a bastard. It was towards my nephew, you just happened to be, well, a bastard. And right as his mom was walking past the door. I remember watching a b-boy video with my friend and their cousins visiting from the Philippines and saying "Yo, look at these guys. They're all fobs." During my 12th grade government class, I screamed "Damn, Mike! You're GAY!" in front of my openly homosexual teacher, Mr. Ratcliff. Ever use "retarded" on the basketball court while one of your teammates "special" brother was trying to shoot freethrows the court over? Well, I have.

I've learned to become more aware of my surrounding, even to the point of being over-sensitive. I choose my words carefully and try to be mindful of the people around me. But there are still those times where I'll be at the verge or blurting out something that I could get slapped over, and thankfully restraint prevails. Forgive me. Please.

Whoa.

But anyway, I did something tonight that was completely embarassing. While making a quick righthand turn, I drove directly over a median completing my 2nd 50/50 grind in a car, the first of which happened in my old '89 Grand Voyager one time after work during the summer of 1997 when I spilled my soda making a right hand turn. This time around, I didn't have a good excuse. I didn't know the turn at all and made a careless wide turn.

What made it worse is that since I hit the median with such high force, my car skid all the way to the point where my tires were off of the ground stranding me on median, partially blocking traffing going in my intended direction. As I stood outside of my car door I attempted to assess the situation. I immediately got out of my car to make sure my car wasn't fucked up. I was especially concerned about my tires because I just bought a new set no more than one week ago. A truck with two men stopped, noticing my state of complete confusion and offered to help.

Eventually we got the car off the median, and I cannot think of a time where I was more embarassed, except the time I left the size sticker on a new pair of jeans, only realizing it when somebody at school notified me during one of my breaks in between classes. It was though, pretty damn funny, and as I'm sitting here at work typing this out, I'm still hoping there is nothing seriously wrong with my car. Oh well, it's past midnight and I still have about 5 hours of work before I can go home and sleep until Jayden wakes me up, which is about 3 hours. I had about 3 hours of sleep last night and my body still hasn't adjusted to sleeping during daylight and working through the night.

It was a trip being at a club last night. I don't do clubs. But since Jan and Audrey had a show, I had to show my support. Needless to say, by midnight I was damn drunk. I mean, we started with Red Label and beer at the house. After about 3 Liquid Cocaines and about 4 more shots of Hennesey, my non-drinking ass was feelin' pretty good. Erwin was a good sport for tagging along. I could tell that he was tired and another night at a club wasn't #1 on his priority list.

There were a large amount of familiar faces which was interesting considering we were so far from Vallejo. Seeing the boys was a pleasant surpise. Alex was in typical form with his perpetual squinty smile. People from high school greeted me with a suprised "Baseball Joe", a nickname that has seemed to stick even though I haven't played ball since high school. I was surprised Marissa and Cheryl both said "hi" to me first. It was nice, though. I have to admit, it was kind of fun telling everybody I ran into that I was now married, too.

Francisco seemed a little extra surpised to see me. I haven't seen him in a good 7 years and his excitement in seeing me again was shown when he lifted my 240 pound body a good 2 feet off the ground. Seeing Rey for the first time in a while made me realize how much a lot of us have changed since our high school days. He's older and much more mature than back then. You can look into his eyes and just tell he was a different man.

Jan and Audrey's set was a lot shorter than I expected. Although I wish they went longer I was glad to show my support. Jan's beat production has stepped up, and even though the club sound guy didn't know what he was doing, thee music was still on point. I stood front and center with my arm waving to the beat. They do something that I find admirable, which is they do what they love to do. Seeing them on stage is like seeing a bird in midflight or watching Barry Bonds hit a baseball. It was something they were meant to do. God gave them gifts and they are utilizing those gifts. I admire that.

As we approached the club, you could hear the rhymic pounding of breakbeats echoing in the street. We stop directed in front of the club and I immediately recognized Reveal sitting on a bike rack having conversation with Free. On the street corner, there were numerous guys smoking cigarettes. I didn't recognize any of them off the bat. They didn't look like your tyipcal b-boy types. One was dressed wearing a stripped polo shirt with a matching Houston Oilers hat. Another had a black and white trucker cap, a tight fitting Metallica shirt. I turned to Graham as I pulled a menthol light out of my pocket and lit it.

"Yo wanna kick it, or do you want to go in?"

The line to get into the club wasn't long at all. Maybe only 2 or 3 people waiting. It was still early, about 10:30, and the night was young. A woman selling roses walked towards our side of the street from the seemingly gay club across the way. She was pale and almost Goth-like if it weren't for the infectious smile. As she passed in front of me I could smell the pleasant smell of the roses.

"Let's go in and see what's goin' on."

I nodded and we walked in line. The muffled unnoticable beats became clear and almost hypnotic as we entered the club. It was immediately dark as my eyes slowly adjusted to the lack of available light. I looked down and noticed that the black light accentuated the seemingly unlimited amount of dust that had accumulated on my shirt. As the Jackson Sister's "I Believe In Miracles" boomed through the first set of speakers I walked by, I finally saw a circle consisting of about 20 different dancers.......

James Brown is a fuckin' genius. He is. He really is. A lot of people won't understand this, but he has had a lot of influence on Hip Hop music and the Hip Hop culture as a whole. This shit is so real I really don't know how to emphasize it any stronger.

Now, don't get it twisted. This "bling-bling/I Got More Shit Than You/Bust A Cap In Yo Ass" shit that you see on MTV and hear on the radio? Not directly influenced by "The Godfather of Soul". But James influenced many of the dancers and DJ's in the late 60's and early 70's in a huge way. His lyrics were fierce (when intelligible). His beats were way ahead of his time. His dancing was at a level never seen before. James Brown was Hip Hop before Hip Hop was Hip Hop.

Songs like "Give It Up, Turn It Loose", "Superbad", and "Sex-Machine" were b-boy anthems in the 70's and remain so even today. His dancing style influenced many urban youth and was incorporated into the dancing of the 70's, which in turn was amalgamated into the footwork and top rock of b-boying (breakdancing).

Now, I know a lot of you are thinking about how b-boying is related to Hip Hop at all. Well, Hip Hop is known and defined by it's basic four elements: B-boying (breakdancing), Emceeing (Rap), Graffiti Art, and DJ (Turntablism). The Zulu Nation has recently identified 5 other elements of the culture which includes Beatboxing, Street Language(Slang), Street Fashion, Street Entrepeneurialism, and Street Knowledge. There is more to Hip Hop than the music. In the immortal words of KRS-1, "Rap is something you do, Hip Hop is something you live.". Feel that.

The roots of Hip Hop have been traced back around the early 70's in the South Bronx of NYC. Hip Hop was never really known nationally until the explosion of the popularity of b-boying, or what the national media labeled as "Breakdacing". Breakdancing became hugely popular with the release of the film "Flashdance" in 1983, which for the first time Hip Hop was shown to the world by members of the Rock Steady Crew, whom had parts in the movie. It was b-boying that brought Hip Hop to the forefront for the very first time. It was b-boying that exposed the rest of the world to what would eventually become a billion dollar industry.

So that's the lineage. James Brown had a huge influence on the dance and music of the 70's, which in turn directly influenced b-boying and eventually Hip Hop as a whole. But even aside from the music, James Brown had an aura. His attitude and the way he carried himself had a huge influence on the raw and uncut mentality of Hip Hop artists, both dancers and musicians alike.

Back to life. Back to reality. I can't lie right now and tell you that I don't miss being in Las Vegas. Late last night/early this morning, my new bride and I got hungry around 3:00 AM and couldn't find a 24 hr. Fat Burger anywhere. A little while ago, l was looking through my wallet and saw a 20 dollar bill that was begging to be put in a slot machine. It was a good week.

Let's sum up the damage from the days Oct. 2 - Oct. 7:

About $1200 spent

12 total hours of sleep

Two buffets (Harrah's and MGM Grand)

7 Casino/Resorts Visited (Bellagio, Venetian, MGM Grand, Excaliber, New York,New York, Aladdin, Harrah's)

3 trips to the Men's Wherehouse

1 rented Grand Caravan

3 packs of Marlboro Menthol Lights

1 topless show ("X" at Aladdin)

$200 worth of alcohol for our rooms from Albertson's (2 bottles of Rumple Mintze, 1 Goldschalger, 1 Bacardi 151, 1 Malibu, 1 Hennesey, 1 Jaegermiester)

Approximately 20 miles walked

1 free limo to go to the Clark County courthouse to get our marriage license.

By the way, I'm a married man now. I love it.

Vegas? Joe. Yeah, I'll be there tomorrow. Are you ready? Word.

5 more days and counting, and I still can't stand those couples. The ones who can't keep their hands off each other in public. The ones who are so insecure with themselves and their relationships that they feel the need to show that they are affectionate with at least one person in the world to everybody. Everybody. And everywhere. It's annoying.

I'm sitting at Supercuts waiting for Judy to finish up with the fat man and these love birds next to me feel like they need to fuckin' snuggle. IN SUPERCUTS. They're whispering to each other and she's giggling like a 12 year old girl that's found her clit. Give me a fuckin' break. As I sit there trying to read the same PC magazine that was there last month, I can hear little kisses being given back and forth. IN SUPERCUTS.

I don't have a problem with public displays of affection. Not at all. Holding hands is cool. A friendly peck here and there is fine. But this quasi-post-coital spooning and pillowtalk has to be kept at home. I mean for fucks sakes, there are kids around.

What bugs me the most is that as I'm getting my haircut, I can see them in the mirror behind me. And guess what. They stopped. I hate that shit. I've noticed this for years now. I can't even think about all the times I've taken a glance at a couple and the boyfriend noticed and holds his girl a little tighter/closer. Women do the same shit. They see a girl taking a look at their man and they grab his arm, as if marking their territory. I can't lie, I used to be the same way......in 7th grade.

When I notice guys checkin' out my girl, I'm personally flattered. If I found out anyone was wondering "what does she see in HIM?", FUCK, I'm ecstatic! I mean hell, it's like "LOOK WHAT I DID!! I either have a big dick or I'm rich, right? Because it obviously ain't the looks!" So it's a win/win situation for me. There is no need to be insecure, because if someone DID take my girl from me, then they did me a favor. "Shit, I almost married that bitch."

So feel me on this: Keep all that affectionate shit at home. Sure, public displays of affection are nice and all, but no one really gives a fuck, nor is anybody really paying attention.

I'm way too lazy right now to do one of those "100 Things About Me" lists. Leah did it. Someone else did it before her. And a bunch of other people did it before that person. But let's roleplay a little (because I know you love to roleplay), and let's pretend I wasn't a lazy asshole. Here are excerpts from the imaginary list of 100:

#37 - I love the soothing feeling of getting my ears cleaned with a Q-tip

#56 - Sometimes I'm so lazy I don't do my laundry until I'm down to my very last piece of underwear, which just happens to be the same underwear I wore in 8th grade. The well-too-known "Last Line Of Defense".

#7 - The thought of having 3-way sex with two women arouses me, even if the two women are ugly.

#96 - Sometimes I walk around purposely looking pissed off just to see if I can scare anybody.

#44 - I have a problem with reading comprehension.

#9 - My favorite number is 9.

#15 - I think I am much smarter than I lead on to be.

# 29 - I love oysters, even though they give me the runs for 2 days after eating them.

Maybe one day I'll write the rest. Maybe not.

Have a good Monday. Cheers.

Having money is cool. Jojo and I spent about and hour in "The Store Formerly Known As Structure" yesterday, which is the longest we've spent in there since our high school days. I bought a pair of unusually narrow pants (for me at least) for a mere 10 duckets and a polo for 15, which by Struc-er, I mean, Express Men is a steal.

While shopping, I couldn't help but notice how feminine men's casual wear has become. There were really nice shirts, but they were ruined by some dumbass neckline that threatened to show not only my man-cleavage, but my damn belly button. There were also those oh-so-fruity shirts that tie with a string in the front, as if we were some fuckin' musketeers or some shit. I don't know, man. Maybe it's the "Hip Hop" urban style that keeps me from seeing the fashion value, but that shit looks wack. I mean, I like to dress nice and all, but that trendy-ass Chris Judd look has to fuckin' go. The LAST thing I want to do is look like a dumped J-Lo backup dancer.

Ohh....you want a little thunder?

We met up with a couple friends last night at the Century Theatres in Daly City and caught the opening night of "The Rundown" that starred Stifler, Christopher Walken, Rosario Dawson, and The Rock. I loved the movie and damn, there were great moments throughout. Stifler carried most of the comedy, The Rock provided the action, Rosario Dawson was the eye candy (although I noticed that her nostrils are lopsided as fuck), and Walken was classic fuckin'Walken.

On top of all that, Ernie Reyes Jr., in the first movie role I can recall in a long time, was part of probably one of the best and most creative fight scenes in the movie, hell in ANY movie. Ernie is fuckin' diesel (read: built). Playing a Brazillian rebel, he was pretty damn convincing considering that he's Filipino. I'm glad to see he's still working. He's talented as all hell but unfortunately his "look" forces him into movies like "Turtles In Time".

Countdown to the wedding is 7 days. Vegas, we're comin'. And it's not gonna be nice.

Have a good weekend.

Just hang the fuck up. Notorious Pat just told me that he saw a news story on one of our local news stations about a woman getting hit by a MUNI bus down in the Embarcadero in the 'Sco today. Turns out she was walking while talking on her phone and walked into on-coming traffic and just got blasted by the bus.

Now, I'm sorry. Call me insensitive. Call me an asshole. But dammit, I wish there were stories like this more often. I really dont' give a fuck. Why? Because I encounter maybe 4 near car accidents weekly due to this people who can't seem to pay attention to anything and talk on their cell phone at the same time. I mean, shit. Somebody HAS to tell them, "Hey, you drive like shit when you talk on your cell phone." The sad part REALLY is all the people who would probably do the same but are saying to themselves, "What a dumbass."

And it's not just with drivers. There are always these people walking in the mall who can't seem to WALK right when they're on their phone. COME ON. These have to be the same assholes in their cars. They were the same kids that couldn't jump rope and sing the rhymes at the same time because they'd stop swinging the rope. These are the same people for which the "No blocking fire exits" laws are created for. I mean, fuck. If you can run, you are never blocking a fire exit (thanks Mitch).

Remember this when Leah posted it after I showed her the link?

Well, you can thank me for that AND this

"I got a darkside, like an uneven suntan."

The library can be kind of weird at 10:30 in the morning. So I'm at the library to do some reading and to look for a few books I want to borrow instead of having to buy them. It's pretty early in the day, and I can't help but notice the different type of people that are in a library at the given time. Here are a few of my observations:

The Old Retired Couple- These people have absolutely nothing better to do than go to the library everyday to read. They're old and they're retired, so you know that they've been up for a good 5 hours and wanted to get some reading in before it was time to turn in for the rest of the night. I mean, it IS damn near Noon, you know.

The Group of Mentally Ill Kids- These kids, though seemingly "hadicapped" to the average eye, are the happiest people in the library. Sure, they make make a random moan or scream every now and then breaking the concentration of some or making a few kids giggle, but they are living their lives to their fullest extent, which is more than what we can say about a lot of people. When I was younger, I used to gawk and stare and giggle myself. But these kids have some sort of genuine innocence that is a testiment to their strength as people living with their illness, not drowning in it like some may perceive.

These Muther Fuckers On The Internet Playing Yahoo Spades - How demented are these assholes who come to the library with their library card and use them for free Internet access ALL DAY LONG? They swear that they're getting over by hiding the AIM Express window under their Yahoo Spades window even though there's a little note on the monitor that states "No Internet Chatting or Games". They do nothing productive in the library and they make me fuckin' sick.

The Grandpa and The Rowdy Ass 3-year-old- Grandpa gets a great idea: "Let me take my rowdy ass grandson to the library while I read." What he doesn't realize is that he'll spend more time trying to calm his son down than he will holding a fuckin' book. And why can't the kid shut the fuck up? "Hey Grandpa! Hey Grandpa!" What the fuck, don't bring him into the adult section of the library when you know there's a little kid's section.

Those Fucking Teenagers- Can these mutherfuckers shut the fuck up? Every little thing is funny and they are giggling their mutherfuckin' asses off. Those fuckin' teenagers can whisper louder than I can shout and while they do come to the library with the intention of studying, once more than 3 of them gather, you can throw all that shit out of the window. They sometimes even have long ass conversations on their cell phone. IN THE FUCKING LIBRARY. I swear to gawd, parents need to talk some fuckin' sense into these kids. Because dammit, I am becoming less and less patient and have absolutely no problem telling someone to shut the fuck up.

The Random College Kid- (Read: Me.) They sit down and open their bags and unload about 50 books and look up every single time something disturbing happens. I see these kids as the "easily disturbed". I mean, if I spent all day working and/or going to school, the last place I'd want to study is at a fuckin library. But as a lot of us "easily distracted" kids know that there is the TV, the computer and the phone at home, and we can't get anything done with any of that stuff around. So instead, we head over to the library to be subjected to all of the above. What the hell is wrong with these people?

Well, there are others, but you know the deal. Weirdo old-as-dirt librarian. Homeless guy. Magazine Whores. And the best of all, the DVD/Movie people. But you know the story.

I always get that feeling. You know, that feeling. The feeling you get when you're all ready to eat and you realize that there isn't rice in the rice cooker. The feeling when you sit down on the toilet, drop a load, and realize that there is not a square of toilet paper within 20 yards of you. It's also the feeling when you're doing the "duck-walk" to the closest bathroom hoping you don't mess yourself in a quest for toilet paper. Remember the last time you forgot you had no cash and went to a shop that doesn't accept check or credit card? That's the feeling. Or how about the time when you were talking shit about someone and that someone just happened to walk into the room? It's that feeling.

Now, let's face it. We all get these feelings. The feeling of looking through the Sunday newspaper adverts and finding something on sale you just bought two weeks ago $40 more than it's current price. Ever wake up in the middle of the night and bump your head on the wall or your nightstand? It's that feeling. That same feeling when you get crapped on by a seagull, or when you accidentally let out a Hershey squirt instead of the fart you thought was coming out. It just like that feeling you get when you walk into the bathroom to brush your teeth and you step in a wet spot, ruining a fresh clean pair of socks. How about that feeling when you put in a load of clothes into the washing machine and you forget to put in soap, but you don't realize it until AFTER you dry the clothes and still smell the funk? Can you relate to that?

Okay, maybe some of these are off the wall. But these things happen to me all the time. And I can't help but laugh at myself. It's funny. I'm funny. Life is funny. And if you can't laugh at yourself sometimes, maybe you're just an asshole.

Okay, so who are these mutherfuckers that still haven't seen "Scare Tactics" on the Sci Fi Channel?

It's okay, you can come out of the closet and admit it. Yeah. Admit it. Admit that you were too busy watching Ashton Kutcher and his "Punk'd". Fuck Punk'd. I'd punch Ashton in the grill just for fuckin' Demi Moore. That's Bruce's pussy, Ashton, whether you want to believe it or not. You're in for your own "Punk'd". You just wait. Just wait 'till when you think you're gettin' some from Demi one night, and then Bruce jumps out of the closet, sticks his dick in your ass and yells "You've just been Punk'd". But wait, I'm digressing.

Anyways, "Scare Tactics". Hosted by your favorite 9021-ho, Shannen Doherty, who hasn't looked this attractive since Dylan was ready to break Brenda's hymen after their prom. I have to admit, they do go a little over the top withsome of the acting, but the actual pranks are far more elaborate and believable than your Punk'd or even "Girl's Behaving Badly" if you like your Razmatazz with a Femme boost. Good stuff, I suggest checking it out.

Check your local listings or the Scare Tactics link above.

I need money. With the wedding coming up in about 3 weeks that so happens to coincide with my very first trip to Las Vegas, I have come to the conclusion that I'm going to have to raise some funds of my own to allow both Daphne and I to enjoy this trip the way we want to. I've already auctioned off a bunch of my jerseys and unneeded clothing to just help myself stay afloat as I put in work at this non-paying internship I've been at for the past 2 months. Now it's time for me to get serious. I need a lot of money and soon. So now what?

I'm going for the shoes.

For a long time, I couldn't even think about selling my shoes. I used to buy shoes all the time. When I worked at Foot Locker, I always had about 4 pairs of shoes on hold and I always bought at least one pair every pay period. The discount was like crack. If it was cheap, I'd buy it. Even if it wasn't cheap, I'd buy it. The worst thing is that I would hardly wear them. Whenever you have more than 10 pairs of shoes, you will only wear half of them in a month.

What makes it worse is the space they take up.I have them everywhere. Under my bed. In my closet. In Daphne's closet. In the living room closet. All over the floor. All over the hallway outside of my room. Just everywhere. And it carried over to both Daphne and Jayden. Now they have tons of shoes too. So our house is just a big ass shoe wherehouse.

Now I'm going to do everybody a favor and get rid of them.

I don't masturbate as much as I used to. One thing that bothers me about masturbation is how much guilt is associated with it. Way back when I first started beating my meat, I used to feel dirty and guilty after the act. This feeling of dirtiness would force me to take a shower, not only to literally clean myself up, but to "wash" myself of the guilt. As I moved on into the later stages of being a teen, I began to think about the concept of Karma. I'm a firm believer in Karma, and that a good deed will result in good fortune and a bad deed will result in ill fortune.

Since choking your chicken is generally looked upon as a negative thing, I began seeing negative events that have possibly resulted by me stroking my salami. I'd have a date with Palmala and her five sisters, then later in the day, I would get a speeding ticket. I'd strain my main vein, then I'd forget to do my homework that night. It was odd correlations such as those that would force me to not jerk off at crucial times in my life such as the night before a big test, or before going to a job interview. Weird shit.

Now don't get me wrong. I still think that spanking your monkey is normal and healthly. Hell, they should teach that shit at school. Think of how many teens would be more relaxed at schools, or how less high school girls would get pregnant. Think how many guys wouldn't be so sexually agressive if they would just shake their snake before a first or second date. But no, there's still that taboo factor. Everybody does it but nobody talks about it. There are tons of benefits to it and nobody wants to acknowledge them.

But now I can just imagine all the people reading this and saying, "But Joe. Aren't you engaged? Don't you have a steady sex partner?" And yeah, you guys are right. I do. But as many of you will learn, the combination of school, job and kids will basically murder your sex lives. As much as you want to do the horizontal Mambo with your significant other, sometimes it's just not fesable. Schedules confict. Somebody is too tired. One person is horny but the other isn't. I mean, believe me. When we fuck, we fuck. But trying to time your horniness to coincide with your wifey is damn near impossible. Especially when the sliding windows of opportunity are far and few between. So you take your schlong to the massage parlor.

So with that in mind, think about all those times as a child sitting at home, all by yourself with your sister and/or brother. Remember when your parents would come home unusually late? You'd be thinking they went to the grocery store or maybe Price Club or the mall, but for some reason they wouldn't come home with anything. Well, I hate to break it to you, but they were fucking. Somewhere, somehow. You were born and had subsequently fucked up their sex life, so they were forced to take it elsewhere. Maybe it was the Alpha Beta parking lot behind the dumpster. Maybe it was at a cheap hourly motel. Or hell, maybe your mom gave your dad head in the garage! Either way, they were fuckin', and you didnt' even know.