The Indalian Job

No Touch!

admin — Wed, 29 Apr 2009 06:13:06 +0000

I think my Poppi is turning into a dirty old man. Not like a “quick hide the prepubescents” dirty old man. But like a Handsy-Harry “lockup your Nanas” type dirty old man. And this development distresses me. I’m just back from the sunshine state, after celebrating the old man’s 92nd Birthday. Happy Birthday, Poppi! Homeboy looks like he’s about 80 years old. My lord, that man’s genes should be...

The Memo

admin — Wed, 15 Apr 2009 01:06:54 +0000

Everyone is leaving. An interfaith exodus is underway. Did Moses post a “heading for the desert” status update on Facebook? Did I miss the crucial “RT @JesusTheChrist: Pestilence, War, Famine, and Death. WE OUT” tweet? Granted I’m behind the curve on this whole new fangled media front. And that’s because I know social networking code was programmed in the fires of hell. But couldn’t they have...

Death by Cheapness

admin — Tue, 31 Mar 2009 02:57:46 +0000

Last week my grandfather set off the fire alarm in his Florida apartment complex at 11 PM. That very same night, in New York City, I had a shamanic vision. It was all sparks, licking flames, haze, and then oblivion. Maybe you think I’m speaking metaphorically about an orgasm. If so, you’ve obviously never had sex with me. I’m talking about death. I think I now know how I am going to die. Strike...

I’m Colored? Oh, Word?

admin — Mon, 16 Mar 2009 22:10:33 +0000

Sometimes I forget that I’m colored. This may be a shock my tens of thousands* of readers, but it’s true. It may seem like I rag on white people in every other post, at least. Like here. And here. Or here. You get the idea. * Only suckers trust site statistics provided by The Man. Independent audits place readership somewhere between 6 and 78,342. It is truer to say that I usually don’t think...

Not the Sexy Kind of Fear

admin — Sun, 01 Mar 2009 14:42:46 +0000

I think I contracted my irrational fear much like an STD. I must have picked it up sometime in college and, for the life of me, I don’t know who gave it to me. One moment I was a very “present” Birkenstocked 18-year-old, and the next thing I know I’m a 25-year-old with anxiety over a nest egg. I’ve always been precocious, but a mid-life crisis before the age of 30 strikes me as excessive. It...