The Other
Facebook is the font of non-stop hilarity. I really am addicted, even though I can't really be MYSELF on it. Too many rubbernecking assed Satan's Anusians tracking my movement. As much as I neglect it, I love the blog for all the reasons I hate Facebook: a certain level of anonymity and an opportunity for unbridled misanthropy. Ready? Here goes....
Muthafuckers I hated in high school are my "friends" now. Man, fuck 'em, fuck 'em all. 20 years of bad choices has manifested itself in their mugs. People who I'd actually look forward to finding after all these years, I can't find. The ones I have are the same misspelling, quasi-literate, all caps typing ape-people I remember.
Hey, Loudy! I remember you! You got caught sucking 2 football players' dicks in the boys' locker room after football practice. Didn't think I'd remember that, hunh? If unattractive, loud, hyper-religious, and fashion challenged were signs of positive karma, you'd be a $500 million winning Powerball ticket. I'm unfriending your ass tonight.
People from college aren't much better, but they are better. This one lame ass dude, who's incidentally quite successful now, married this beauty queen from college. They have 3 kids together, 2 girls and a boy. It's really unfortunate that those girls are the spitting image of his ugly ass and not his pretty wife, but I can't hold him accountable for that. Hell, that shit might happen to me! I actually like the guy quite a bit. But his status updates are always inevitably about how live he is. Not how happy he is, or how much he loves his family, but how he's the shit and we should all bow down. Good luck with that, Fido. Your ass is hist.
I'm not saying this shit to kiss up, but I appreciate the bloggers on FB more than anything. Maybe it's because I kinda "know" y'all in the here and now. I hate reminiscing and remembrances and shit. With most of my FB friends, that's all I got.
Be Good,
KZ
Labels: facebook
The Gift That No Longer Gets Shot
I was just thinking about how much my life has changed in a fairly short period of time and it occurred to me: I would much rather eat great food than have great sex.
When the fuck did that happen? When did my fat ass take over from my fat dick? And how can I reverse the change?
Actually, I'm not sure I want to reverse the change. I find myself not seeking out porno when I get home (at least not ALL the time), but I read about hot restaurants, recipes, and cooking techniques that enhance the flavor. I bemoan the fact that my cooking skills suck and that I don't have ready access to Michelin starred greatness. More than anything, I regret that I don't get to eat more good stuff more often. Fuck more often, more like never.
It's the kind of complaint I used to lodge in regards to my sex life. But right now, I don't really give a fuck. I just wanna eat well.
Be cool,
KZ
The Fuckshit Chronicles
Hey peoples, what's good? I'm still at my muddafuckin' job, doing muddafuckin' everything I can do to leave, to no avail. In the process, I've fucked around and stayed up until I have to do a massive project, a project that involves a great deal of public involvement. And I have to coordinate the level of public involvement.
If you haven't figured it out, Satan's Anus is full of bastards and bitches who know everything. Deez muddafuckas always have something to say. So you give them a forum and the time to say everything they want to say, and then when it's time to vote on the approval/disapproval of a proposal, they'll claim they weren't given enough time to say what they wanted to say. That's even if THEIR POINT OF VIEW WINS!!! That's that ol' fuckshit right there.
So I have to spend my summer doing public input sessions for 72,000 people (much less than that really because as a college town, 25,000 of those people are students). Now that doesn't seem like a lot, and in most instances it's not. I worked for the City of Detroit, and we did public input for 1,000,000 people.
Let me tell you it was much less hassle than doing it for THESE 72,000 fuckers. Reason being, Detroit is overwhelmingly Black. Black people have different jobs. They are fucking exhausted from working to make other people's lives easier than to talk all fucking night at a meeting. Unless I'm out there proposing to build a fucking freeway on top of their house, they ain't comin' out. They are resting up for the next day. Another thing is culturally, we're really not trying to prove to anybody how fucking brainy we are. These meetings become a source of intellectual one-upsmanship in the community. Each bastard trying to bring up a heretofore overlooked fact, much more salient that any other fact presented. Africans come out to tell you fuck what you think and they sit back down. No explanation of why you suck, just that you suck. I'm all for that brevity.
My first public input meeting as a staff member in the City of Detroit consisted of telling a room of 450 people that we were planning to build new houses in their neighborhood. I got threatened, berated, dissed, called out, and basically told to sit the fuck down. That one meeting was more fulfilling and meaningful than the hundreds of meetings I've attended as a Satan's Anus employee, because they cut to the fucking chase and didn't waste my time with all that fuckshit. That's all I'm saying.
Peace,
KZ
Labels: work sucks dick
Everybody's Turned Bitch
It's a sad day in Black America. Today I just about had it and was about to flat out quit Facebook. It seems like everytime I get a status update from one of my male friends, they are doing the most bitch assed shit in the world. I'm talking about cats that come from some of the roughest circumstances in the roughest hoods going, talking about "Off to get my poodle a trim" or "Picking daisies with my oldest son". This shit is disheartening. I'm not much better. "I'm headed to yoga class" or "I miss my sweetie". That's some old bullshit. My father's got skin made of steel. My mother is notorious for being hardcore. And I'm out here shitting on the family reputation.
We're all victims of our relative success. When you see and experience nice shit, you tend to gravitate to it. So when my boy sends a status update like "I just finished baking popovers", I guess that African just wanted some fucking popovers, as bitch like as that may be. Who am I to judge?
I just can't keep reading this shit. Cats with a real rooting interest in "Sunday's Best", muthafuckers grabbing their snacks gearing up for a new episode of "Grey's Anatomy" or about to settle down with the latest issue of "Cat Fancy". I think I'm legitimately going to opt out and stick to this blog.
Peace,
KZ
Demitasse
I'm sitting at work, waiting for the secretaries to leave. It's a daily ritual. I wait so that I don't have to see them or talk to them as I walk out of the lobby. They are, for lack or desire to find a more polite term, stupid. I don't like making small talk about them having a nice evening. I hope they have a fucking horrible evening, because once again, they've made my day hellish.
"Sit the fuck down, shut the fuck up" is the silent mantra I have on repeat in my head as they darken my doorstep with another stupid inquiry, missive, or joke they'd like to share. "Fuck y'all" I quietly whisper as I walk past to go to the restroom or another endless meeting.
As stupid and useless as I think they are, I save the most venom for HR, who are clueless and feeble-minded. The "experts" in all things in regards to hiring, benefits, and "the rules", still inevitably call me six to seven times a day to ask me what to do next about any situation involving one of my staff. How the fuck am I supposed to know what to do next? That's why I sent them to you! Everyday is an episode of "Life Goes On" and I'm getting called by "Corky" every two fucking minutes.
That's all I got.
Peace,
KZ
Profundity
There are no words more fun to say in the English language than "haywire" and "firearm". I don't know if it's the compound word aspect or what, but damn I love saying them.
You know that line in Forrest Gump where he says "Life is like a box of chocolates..."? Well if you replace the word "chocolates" with "pussies", you can pretty much leave me alone with that box.
What does it say about me that I'd feel like a bigger pervert going into a Hooters under the cover of darkness than I would walking into the freakiest hardcore sex shop in broad daylight?
Why doesn't anyone understand that if your boss was as good as your job as you are, they would have NEVER promoted him/her? If you're too good at what you do, you're pretty much fucked. You gotta be passable.
Conservative = unapologetic bigot/white supremacist (regardless of their color), Liberal = undercover racist/condescending asshole, Libertarian = anarchist cheapskate except when it comes to roads leading to his subdivision and police protection for his family, Progressive = hippie goofball with too much fucking free time. This is why I hate labels. I think most of us are a healthy mix of all these archetypes.
Right now, I have a womanly addiction to shoe shopping that I'm not proud of.
Best bumpersticker I've seen in my whole life: "Illegal Shit B Fun".
KZ
Hot Pickle
Hey peoples, what gives? I got back from NYC on Monday, which was a much needed trip for me and the wife. I hate people, and New York is full of people, but as an anonymous member of the rabble, it's not bad. People hated me as much as I hated them! That was a treat. We did some touristy shit, like go to the Guggen.heim (which was some bullshit!) and go to the top of Rockefe.ller Center (which was tall), but mainly we just hung out and ate. We tried to shop, but couldn't find the "spots". Lack of research, I suppose. We had fun anyway, even though the knish I ate tasted like rat pussy.
We hung out with Slish a little bit and drank at one of his spots. Slish is insane, yo, just in case y'all didn't know. It was TAD's first time kickin' with him, but as an avid reader of his blog, it was like old times up in the joint with those two. Good lookin' out, young man. It was certainly appreciated. What you don't know, Slish, is that night after drinking, I went back to the hotel and worked out for an hour and a half. I never sleep on my program!
The visit helped reinforce my desire to move east. Man, I fucking hate this place. I just left the store where this faux gangster ass pussy boi was behind me in line, "Africaning up" his language trying to be hard. "Yo, man, you got some hot pickles? Where the hot pickles? Dude, why you ain't tell me you moved the hot pickles?" That's some real gangsta shit right there. Suckin' on a hot pickle, you purty mouthed bitch. Get me the fuck outta here.
KZ
