sometimes i rhyme fast

sometimes i rhyme slow

how often do you really know whats going on in the world?
how often do you really know whats going on in
your life?

how often do you let other people decide whats going on in your world and or life?

arent we supposed to be the masters of our destinies?

arent we supposed to be the ones who even know what our end goal is?

the only thing i have control of in my life is what pictures i staple to my bedroom walls,

and i dont even have all the pictures up that i want because im nervous what the nba cheerleaders who frequent my humble abode would say and think.

so maybe theres nothing in my life that accurately reflects what i think, love, and find wonderful.

sad when even American Apparel ads have more honesty than a mans own url

as ive gotten older i have less and less tolerance for people

maybe i just have some pent-up anger from somewhere, maybe all of this would have been different if the cubs had won the world series in ’84.

but for decades ive wondered why the mediocre and the lame have buzzed around me, only recently has the annoyance reached a point where it has affected my mood.

i see it everywhere. mostly when i drive. mostly when i listen to the radio. mostly when i read the comments throughout the interwebs. who are these people i ask myself.

its not just those from ivy league schools, its the uneducated too. its those who dont even try to be annoying – they just are, by default.

i dont hate everyone. i love the people i work with. i love most of the blogosphere that ive always loved. and there are some very smart and creative people working in the entertainment world who amuse me, but its weird how much i despise compared to when i was younger. no tolerance!

for example, fast food… who loves fast food more than me? no one. and who loves ribs more than me? so heres Burger King who advertises real ribs, not that stuff they make the McRib from, these are ribs with bones and fat and meat and all the nice things that create heart attacks.

$2 for three ribs, they tell us, if you also buy a value meal with something else. fine. done. but look at these lil fellas. its an insult.

its all an insult, america.

or maybe im just entering the crabby old man stage of my life.

this makes me happy, for the record:

even if it is alcohol abuse