Smoking Past – Smoking Present by Spearfruit (BLW Contributor)



Sometimes I will write a post and not finish it for different reasons.  I started this post last year and I do not remember why I did not finish it – but decided now was a good time.

The following words were written on May 17, 2015 –

On social media, I recently read about a person’s encounter with people who smoke.  This person observed a smoker who had no teeth, was coughing and had a ‘smoker’s voice’.  This person wrote that is was clear to them that this was cancer waiting to happen.

I remember a time when employees could smoke at their job in their cubicles.  Many changes have occurred referring to smoking and smokers.  I understand that smoking is bad and can cause illness and death.  I understand smoking affects those people that do not smoke.  I understand the laws that prevent smoking in public buildings and certain areas within a city.  What I do not understand is why those that do not smoke think they can diagnose cancer.  Why is this?

Ok, I get it – I am ranting some because as a smoker I do get a little irritated that nonsmokers seem to know more than I about the outcomes of smoking.  I am a courteous smoker; I do not smoke in my own home, when somewhere else I go hide to smoke as to not bother anyone else and I do not like the smell of smoke – I hate the smell of smoke in clothes, in rooms, etc.

My point is I know smoking kills and I choose to smoke.  I know smoking can kill others and I choose not to smoke around them.  I know smoking can shorten my life span and I am ok with that.

The following words I am writing today –

I have smoked off and on since I was 15 years old – 40 years now! I have quit smoking on several occasions cold turkey with the longest non-smoking period of 4 years.  Why do I quit then to go back to start again?

In my postAddictions or Habits or Routines‘, I concluded with the following –

My point to this post is I have a habit of being drawn to addictions and routinely have quit addictions and started the same addictions again time after time.  So are addictions an issue or is it the routinely stopping and starting the habits of addictions the issue, or is it the habits that cause the routines of addictions the issue?

On my recent visit to my urologist Dr. F., he told me I needed to quit smoking.  He said the tumor on my bladder will have to be surgically removed, and continuing to smoke, the next time the whole bladder may need to be removed.

Today I am still smoking, and tomorrow I will smoke, but the next day is the day I will once again quit – hopefully for the last time.

Check out other great articles from Spearfruit


The Wild Ones by Ryan Fu (The Hated Ones)


321718_2310404913771_299707564_o (1)

“Bro, how more of these assholes are we going to see this week? I’m getting tired of these losers,” Angello tells me in his thick Argentine accent.

“Dude, we need a replacement for the other cocksucker we fired last week,” telling Picco as I text the new recruit on our whereabouts.

“Bro, that dude sucked dick and not in a good way.”

“I know. He was too much of a stoner. We need someone dependable and trustworthy. We need a killer on the crew.”

“Yeah, he must have a tight butthole, so I can fuck him I’m the ass.”

“Good point. I’ll ask him during the interview.”

It was late in the afternoon in the last week of October as we wait for new candidate on Robertson Blvd. I stand outside off my truck in front of the Newsroom as Angello edits and uploads pictures, while at the same time watching nugget porn. I look up and down the street trying to spot this fool, then I saw young punk walking my way. This kid was shorter than I was in his Ed Hardy shirt, camouflage cargo shorts and backwards baseball cap. At least, I didn’t have to tell him how to dress like a douchebag cause he already got that down.

“Yo, Angello. Check out the new dude.”

Picco stops watching pornography on his laptop for a sec to check out the kid, “this little piece of chit. No Ryan, don’t hire this weak asshole, he probably doesn’t even have a tight butthole.”

“Let’s give him chance, then if he sucks you can find out if he does have tight butthole or not.”

“Hey, do you know where the Newsroom is?” The new guy asks me as I point to the huge ass sign next to him. “Oh, duh.”

“Andy right?”

“Yeah. How did you know?”

“You got a strong aura around you. The name is Fu, I’ll be training you today to see if you can make the cut.”

“Great. I’m super pumped up for this cause I’ve been a fan of you guys for a while now and I love celebrities.”

“First off, I don’t give a fuck if you love celebrities because they don’t give a fuck about you. Second, what did you do before you decided you wanted to be scumbag?”

“Well, ugh, I was or I’m still in school for photography. I’ve been in school for the last two years learning about photography.”

“Well that’s a waste of time, especially on this job. Listen up, rook, you just need to learn these three settings to work this job, which the rest of it is just instincts and hard work.” I give Andy the 411 immediately about the position telling him straight up that this was not going to be an easy job, which it was portrayed on tv as I hand him the camera for the first time showing him the settings.

Andy picks up on the settings immediately as I show him how to shoot these celebrities on long and short lens. He struggles with it because he’s not used to his subjects not wanting to be shot as he has to learn fast on the fly. I put him through the ring trying to overload as much of information onto him, so I can see if he remembered what I showed him just moments ago. In this business you gotta be quick on your feet because just like in life there are no dress rehearsals, you’re going to have to deal what is coming at you in a moments notice. This was true for me in the military and it still rings true to me now as a paparazzi.

“You ready to get your feet wet rookie?” Telling Andy to get ready as I spot Paris Hilton walking down the street. “Go shoot that girl!”

“Who is she?”

“Just shoot asshole,” Angello screams at Andy as he storms out of the truck with his camera towards Paris.

“It’s Paris Hilton.”

“Oh, I know her.”

“That’s great Andy. Now run over there and shoot the shit out of her and don’t drop my fucking camera,” yelling at Andy as he runs over towards Paris with Angello.

I check out Andy as he crosses the busy street on Robertson Blvd to join Angello with the other paps shooting Paris. I notice that he checks out his settings before shooting her, getting in the perfect position to shoot her as they get into a store. Angello tells Andy to change his settings to shoot her inside the store, which he does without any help from me. Andy shoots Paris changing his position each time for a better angle, which it looked like at this point, the short amount of training actually sunk somewhere in his brain because I was really impressed with this young kid, the way he used all the things that I just showed him just moments ago. He changes his settings again being in the correct position as Paris leaves the store getting into her custom Pink Bentley.

Angello and Andy run back to the truck as Angello slaps Andy’s butt, which I could see Andy was really excited afterwards with his big ass smile.

“How did you do?”

“I think I did alright?”

“He was fucking amazing,” Angello tells me quickly editing and uploading to the network.

I point to Angello on his laptop, “listen Andy, in this business, you’re either first or your last. We must send our images out quickly to be the first dogs to dinner table. If you don’t shoot, then you don’t get fed.” Andy understands what I’m saying as I check out his pictures. “There aren’t that bad but you need to calm down a bit and focus on the shoot because some of these aren’t sharp from sharp malaka, but other than that I think Angello and I are really impressed with you kid.”

“You got a really tight butt,” Angello tells Andy without even looking at him working on pictures.

“You want to shoot some more,” I tell Andy but I could already tell that his kid was already hooked because it was the same look I had when I had with my first experience being a paparazzi. I was a brand new vampire thirsty for more blood, which I was going to give to Andy.

“Fuck yeah! But I had a question. What if they don’t want to be shot? Like they put their head down or cover up, do we still keep shooting?”

Angello stops what he is doing staring at Andy as I take of my sunglasses giving Andy my serious look. “You never stop shooting.”

“You never stop shooting asshole!” Angello shouts out before going back to his work.

“We never stop until the job is complete. If they try to hide or cover up, just keep trying out different angles and keep shooting until they give up and show they’re faces. This is the difference between a good pap and a great pap. What are you willing to do to get that money shot.”

“Money shot?”

“Yeah, Andy the Money Shot. This is the main reason why we are all here. It’s not like we give a fuck about these celebrities, I mean some of them are cool but they don’t pay our bills and I certainly don’t give a fuck about photography. I just want the money motherfucker, lots of money motherfucker, which you can potentially make if you learn your job, be a hard worker and are willing to do what other paps won’t do, then you’ll be making huge money in no time.”

Chuck walks back to the truck from the bathroom missing all the action again.

“What did I miss y’all?”

“Jesus, Charlie did you fall in the toilet. You masturbate too long,” Angello jokingly tells Chuck.

“You missed Paris.”

“Ah, I love Paris. My bad guys, I was taking a shit and it was a lot. You ever take a shit and it doesn’t stop coming. It just came out of me like a brown volcano.”

“You’re butthole must be like a black hole mang.”

“You don’t give a shit about Paris.”

“Yeah, you’re right but it would have been funny video talking to her about my shit. Who’s this?”

“This is the new recruit.”

“Hi, my name is Andy.”

“Hi there, name is Charles. Did you shoot Paris as well?”

“Yeah, he did, which I gotta tell you he did a better job on his first time than you did Chuck.”

“Well, it’s because I don’t give a fuck.”

“I already gathered that, thanks buddy,” I tell Chuck as he gets into the truck with Angello.

“Don’t point that asshole at me mang, it’s still dangerous.” Angells tells Charles as both of them start laughing in the back of the truck.

“Well, you ready to kill more celebrities?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, then get into the truck and enjoy the ride.”

Andy gets into the truck with the rest of the animals as I find more celebrities for him to shoot, which he starts to act like a season vet with every set he shoots being more comfortable with himself along with the camera. It’s around dusk before we head into a Halloween shop on Sunset Blvd looking for fun costumes?

“Are we going to a Halloween party?” Andy asks me kinda confused why we were doing here instead of shooting celebrities.

“Well, sometimes when you can’t get the “money shot”, you must be willing to create the “money shot.” I tell Andy as he gives me the confused look. “Listen, people only give you the big time money if there is actually a story behind the pictures we take like Britney going insane or Lindsay crashing her car. People love that shit when something is going crazy with the celebrity, so this is why we are here young padawan.”

“I’m still confused.”

“I found it!” Angello tells me bring the costume towards us.

“This is perfect,” telling Angello as Charles walks over.”

“Fuck no. This shit it too small for my fat ass,” Chuck tells me in anger.

“This is why it’s perfect for you.”


“You have to show that fat black ass Charlie,” Angello tells Charles slapping his butt as we head towards the cash register.

“You sure this is going to work?”

“Fuck yeah. It’s going to be hysterical and epic,” telling Charles trying to reassure him that this was a good move as he finally agrees with my plans.

“What are we doing again?” Andy asks me being totally confused on what was going on?

“Don’t worry kid, it’s going to make sense in a sec.”

We purchase the costume and head to the truck driving to our next destination as Angello drives and Charles changes into his costume in the back of the truck.

“You don’t mind sexy black men getting naked in front of you right Andy?” Angello asks Andy as Charles and Angello start laughing.

“This shit is too tight motherfucker.” Charles tells me trying to fit into the costume.

“Just try to not rip it, so I can bring it back you bastard.”

“I still don’t know the plan, bro?” Andy asks me.

“Listen, see these stupid milkshake flyers. Well, we are getting $50 dollars every time the celebrity or any pictures with this flyer is shown. So, this is why we got a costume for Chuck to make it even a bigger story, so we can make more money. You get now?”

“Yeah. If the money shot isn’t there, then you create the money shot.”

“Bingo, young Jedi. We must all embrace the darkside,” I tell Andy as he gives me his big ass schoolboy smile again.

“We’re here assholes,” Angello tells us parking close to the spot, which was Madeo, a very popular eatery on Melrose Ave close to Paparazzi Alley, where celebrities like to eat and paparazzi like to congregate waiting for celebrities. We got a tip from the valet that there were a couple of stars having dinner there, so we get ready in the truck before the shit goes down.

“Listen, Chuck. The only way that this will work, if you get into fucking character. You must believe that you are the super hero inside that tight ass red and blue costume. You must believe that you are saving the celebrities from the evil paparazzi. You must the Black Captain America. You must save everyone and make us lots of money. You ready?”

“Fuck yeah,” Chuck screams at us grabbing his Captain America shield along with the very valuable flyers as we bust out of the truck, charging towards Madeos acting like a bunch of wild animals hungry to get paid, which we could see the paparazzi are shooting a celebrity coming out of restaurant.

It was Susan Lucci, she was a soap opera star but at the moment she was on Dancing with the Stars, but we didn’t give a fuck because she was about meet the Wild Bunch. We storm on the busy street of Melrose already making our presences felt shooting our cameras in the air like a bunch of insane cowboys as the Black Captain America tries to save Miss Lucci from the savages with the cameras.

Charles was first on the scene pushing through the crowd of the photographers getting into the front with his tight blue Captain America costume. At first, Miss Lucci didn’t notice him but it didn’t take long before she saw this huge black man in a Captain America costume in front of here taking pictures of her. Everyone started laughing, including me as I was trying to film the insanity but I was too busy laughing at Charles because he looked so funny in a tight as Captain America costume, which you could see his back fat coming out of his costume because he was so fat. But this didn’t deter Chuck at all because he knew what we all knew that night, which was this was the “money shot.” A crazy ass fan with a funny Halloween costume next to America’s sweetheart, which Angello and I knew that this was going to sell as I could see in the corner of my eye, Angello shooting the shit of Charles and Miss Lucci, laughing his ass of but still getting the job, which to my surprise I see Andy right in the middle of the pack with his big ass smile shooting having a great time.

“Chuck show her the flyer!”

Charles spaces out for a bit, which he sometimes does before shoving the flyer in the face of Miss Lucci as she is a bit surprise and maybe a little bit threatened but it did get the job done as she grabs the flyer standing right next to the black Captain America.

BOOM! The Money Shot.

We keep on shooting until we mercifully let her walk into her car as Chuck gracefully puts a milkshake flyer on her car window as Angello takes the last shot of her with the flyer. Ca-Ching! Mission accomplished I thought still filming the chaos as I could see Angello chasing Charles around trying to put the rest of the flyers down his costume pants as we all started saying,

“The Wild Bunch! The Wild Bunch! The Wild Bunch!”

I turn to Andy with his big ass smile on his face, “So, what do you think? Do you want the job?”

“Are you kidding me? Fuck yeah I do!” Andy excitingly tells me shaking my hand in an agreement.

“Welcome to the Wild Bunch kid.”

Captain America Pluggin Millions of Milkshakes to Susan Lucci




Buy it on


Real drugs by innocent bastards (BLW Contributor)


we drink tv
smoke porn
sniff sex
inhale adverts
that makes us lazier and weaker 
but what's inside you?


Check out other articles from innocent bastards


We love Bad Relationships by Dane Cook (Relationship Philosophy)


I hate my pain by Seachy Waffles (BLW Contributor)


I’ve thought about blogging this several times and every time I have stopped myself as I hate to be negative, or moaning, and the last thing I want is pity but some days I just want to scream and shout ‘I fu@king hate my pain’

We live in a world of social media and everything is played out on it like we live in some sort of eternal soap. I don’t watch the soaps as they are all negative anyway. I understand the irony of this comment as this is about to go on social media so I guess I am leaving myself open for a load of trolling but c’est la vie.

I hate seeing comments like woe is me I’m single, or my days ruined it’s raining, or even worse the people who say to me you are so lucky being at home in this weather. Lucky is scooping the jackpot on the lottery, lucky would have been to drive an alternative way home that night in 2002 when some @rsehole changed my life so I am now unrecognisable to the person I once was. Lucky is not living in constant pain, and when I say constant pain I mean real chronic constant pain not the people who say to me oh I know how you feel I spent Saturday in the Garden and at the end of the day I was stiff so had a warm bath.

From the minute I get up everything I do causes pain and aggravates my condition. My nerve endings are so on fire that even the touch of clothing is like a thousand needles prickling me all over. I have a rail to use to get me out of bed and it’s a short stroll using my walking sticks to the bathroom each step feeling like I’m walking on daggers. I use my toilet frame to be able to go to the toilet even a piss, yes standing is impossible, my legs would go numb my body would spasm and I’d be pissing all over the bathroom! The shower takes forever sitting on a stool and olnly being able to reach certain areas on my body, and needing help to wash some of the most intimate areas (degrading at any age but at 37 makes me feel so useless). Getting dressed has to be done sitting down, again with help. I love the summer as flip flops mean my wife doesn’t have to put socks on each day. Then its morning meds just the 10 a mixture of opiates, pregabalin, diazepam, paracetemol and an anti inflammatory.

The day drags on and on and on, each hour made up of sitting in a number of different positions, laying, walking, doing some stretches and generally doing anything to try and limit the pain that is coursing through every fibre. A cough is like a hammer to my spine, a sneeze like shotgun, even a yawn hurts. Sitting and pooing takes an age, trying to use my sphincter muscles feels like a boa constrictor squeezing my spine and making my arms and legs go numb.

I long for even the postman or woman to knock on my door (they know to wait a little while as it takes time to get to the door) so I have someone even briefly to talk to. My meds make it impossible for me to drive with the new laws that came in to effect in June, I’m not capable of looking after my daughter as I can fall asleep at any point so she goes to my parents and I sit home alone. If I’m lucky a friend or family member will pop over (but most are working themselves so can’t very often) to see me or to put together my scooter or wheelchair and take the “cripple” out for a walk and some fresh air. Where we have to plan where to go because so many places remain inaccessible to disabled people. Any trip out entails more medication and results in increased pain having a fun day trip relieves the boredom but by the end of it I am so spaced out and had so many tablets that I don’t know my own name let alone what day of the week it is, thank goodness for digital cameras and photos to be able to look back at the day out.

I constantly spill my drinks as holding them is agony, and typing this takes days to keep going back and typing a few more words each day. I constantly forget what I’m meant to do each day, we’ve nearly run out of insurance on both the house and car as I forget to call and pay or arrange.

I rely on others cooking my tea and have to eat as quickly as possible as sitting on a dining chair is yet another every day task that kills. Others load my washing machine, dishwasher and generally care for me or unpaid. It’s no wonder I feel like a burden to sooo many people.

My specialists have all told me to give up working (I am a mentor for 16-19 year olds and I love it), however I have now missed more days off work than I have worked in the last 13 years, and whilst my work are being supportive I think the reality is this latest deterioration has resulted in this becoming impossible. I don’t however want to be branded as a good for nothing scrounger as disabled people are all too often portrayed in the press and who time and time have money cut. Ideally if I was unable to work I would volunteer locally to help people when I can maybe being a phone befriender for age uk calling people a couple of times a week that I can do from home and not let people down.

Evening comes and it is lovely to have my wife and two kids at home, even though playing with them is painful and difficult seeing their faces, hearing their laughter and screams and having bedtime cuddles (gently of course as it hurts) gives me a bright few hours then. Then if we are lucky my wife and I watch a film from different sofas as it hurts cuddling up as we once did, and that I loved. I hope she knows I love her and despite the lack of physical contact I love her more every day. Bedtime and it’s the painful toothbrushing as I cannot stand at the sink with the slight bend everyone else takes for granted. Laying in bed is painful, I move and fidget and keep my wife awake unfairly as she works 60 hours+ each week just to keep the roof over my head. Eventually as sleep evades me I take my last lot of meds taking the daily total to over 30 tablets and I move back to the lounge to repeat my sit, shuffle, move, lay and go mad at the cr@p on TV. I long to try and control my pain again, I didn’t ask for it, I didn’t ask for some arse to cause a RTA and I certainly didn’t ask to suffer for the rest of my life. I am fed up of long periods of my pain controlling me and putting on the fake smile and yes I’m not too bad that most people hear because let’s be honest who really wants to know how painful pooing is!

The next time I am told how lucky I am to be at home I want to scream all this at them, but the reality is the reply will be, actually I miss not working, and not being able to look after my child on my own. I long to just get the pain under control so I am controlling my life again, and can control the pain as opposed to pain controlling me so that at the very least some of my tablets can be reduced and I can ride my mobility scooter taking my girl to school safely in the future and without the funny stares.

Of course this is a reflection of my worse days, when those darkest feelings are all absorbing and consuming. The pain never goes but I do have days where I feel a little happier in myself and a bit more positive but on these days don’t be fooled into thinking the pain has gone. I have finally accepted that this will never happen, now begins the long journey into sorting out life, my emotions, accepting help from others, not being embarrassed by my various mobility aids and to make the most of the precious time I have with family and friends.

Check out other great articles from Seachy Waffles

Survival of the Fittest – List of Common Chemicals that are making you Fat & Depressed



We’ve all heard that if we eat too many calories, we’ll get fat. But there’s more to it: it’s not just the calories, but the chemicals, in our food that contribute to obesity.

Some of these chemicals — called “obesogens” — trigger our bodies to store fat even though we might be restricting calories. The effects are complex: some of these chemicals increase the number of fat cells, others expand the size of fat cells and still others influence appetite, cravings, fullness and how well the body burns calories. In addition to obesogens, other synthetic food ingredients have been shown to help us pack on the pounds and leave us feeling depressed, even when when we think we’re eating healthy.

To stop feeling that way, here are the top five chemicals to avoid in food.

  1. Growth Hormones & Antibiotics

Several drugs, growth hormones, steroids and antibiotics are routinely given to conventionally raised animals to fatten them up on less food. Residues from some of these drugs have been found in meat samples, so you very well could be eating these growth-promoting drugs every time you eat a steak. These drugs are believed to contribute to the obesity epidemic and are poorly regulated in the U.S.

How to avoid: Choose only certified organic grass-fed meat and dairy products (preferably local). Treatment with growth hormones and growth-promoting antibiotics isn’t permitted in organically grown animals. As an added benefit, organic grass-fed beef has been shown to contain more conjugated linoleic acid (CLA), which may actually help you lose weight.

  1. Artificial & Natural Flavors

All of the chemicals that make processed food taste good — monosodium glutamate (MSG), artificial flavors and natural flavors — are just cheap replacements for the real thing and can cause you to eat more than you would otherwise.

With the innocuous-sounding term “natural flavors,” companies can put whatever they want in your food that’s generally recognized as safe, including naturally occurring glutamate bi-products like MSG, known excitotoxins. These excitotoxins cause your taste buds to experience irresistibility when it comes to food.

How to avoid: Steer clear of processed foods, particularly those that have artificial flavors, natural flavors, monosodium glutamate or other “processed free glutamic acid” additives like autolyzed yeast extract and hydrolyzed proteins.

  1. Artificial Sweeteners

Think you’re going to lose weight by switching from regular soda to diet? Think again. Researchers have discovered that artificial sweeteners like those in Diet Coke, can affect gut bacteria, leading to more weight gain. If that isn’t bad enough, the artificial sweetener Aspartame has been linked to mood swings and depression.

How to avoid: Don’t eat anything with artificial sweeteners (sucralose, aspartame, acesulfame potassium, saccharin) in the ingredient list. Limit your sugar intake overall, but choose unrefined sweeteners such as coconut palm sugar, maple syrup, raw honey and dried fruits such as dates.

  1. Pesticides

Out of all the common pesticides Americans are regularly exposed to, the majority of them are “endocrine disruptors“, making them obesogens. Even in tiny amounts, endocrine disruptors have the ability to disrupt major weight controlling hormones (catecholamines), interfere with the natural hormone systems that regulate metabolism and lead to weight gain.

How to avoid: Minimize your exposure to pesticides by choosing certified organic produce and products. (Synthetic pesticides are prohibited in organic farming.) If organic isn’t available, choose fresh produce that’s on the Environmental Working Group’s “Clean 15″ list of produce with the least pesticide residue.

  1. Plastics

Whether it’s a bottle of salad dressing or container of leftovers, most of us are exposed to plastics on a daily basis. Many of these plastics contain substances such as phthalates or bisphenol A (BPA), known endocrine disruptors that have beendirectly linked to increased fat storage. These chemicals have the ability to leach into food and have infiltrated our society so much that they’ve been found 93% of urine samples tested in America.

How to avoid: Choose your water bottles, storage containers, straws and eating utensils wisely, and stock up on those made from glass or stainless steel instead of plastic. Glass jars make an affordable option for storing food.

Credit: Mind Body Green

A Priceless tip from George Clooney by Ryan Fu (The Hated Ones)


“You are a total asshole.”

Eating my Mac and Cheese getting berated by my new ex-girlfriend in front of people at the Cheesecake Factory as she tells me, “You have no idea how to treat a woman, maybe you should take a class or something.”

I finally pay attention to her lifting my head chewing with my mouth open showing how classy I was.

“You’re a fucking jerk and a pothead. I thought you would change and grow up, but you’re always going to be a child,” she yells at me storming out of the restaurant like a little pouty girl, who didn’t get any dessert.

I finished up my dinner alone, wondering if she was right? Maybe I should grow up and act like an adult but is that what she really meant? I’m close to my thirties, in which I still had no idea how women thought because they were a mystery to me. 

Pondering the universe’s problem over Mac and Cheese, I get a call for the “Ladies Man.”

“Hey dickface.”

“What’s up Angello?”

“I got tip for Clooney at a restaurant, if you want to shoot it.”

“Sure. I’m just having dinner by myself.”

“Lisa just dumped your ass didn’t she?”


“You’re a fucking asshole.”

“I know bro, but what are you going to do?”

“At least, you’re not that piece of chit Andy?”

“Listen, he had to do, what he had to do. He wanted to get more money and go after bigger stories.”

“That little piece of chit is not ready for that, he’s a baby.”

“No man. He’s a grown man. He can choose whatever he wants to do.”

“But we taught him everything. That little back stabber.”

“Sometimes you have let the birdies fly out of the nest.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about mang, but shoot that shit so we can have money for the titty bar, you piece of chit.”

I pay my bill getting my food to go as I head towards the job still thinking about what Lisa said about me because maybe there was a slim chance that she was right. I pull up to Dan Tanas, which was one of Clooney’s favorite hangout spot. I see his car right of front of the valet with a private security guard waiting in the wings. It wasn’t my first time waiting for Clooney, who has always been the nicest dude to us. Standing out there waiting for him, thinking about how awesome it would be just to be George Clooney for a day or two because the guy seems like he’s got his shit together. 

He’s uber rich, not married, no kids and always surrounded by super hot models. What better person to ask about advice on women? Maybe he can solve the universe’s problem and give me the answers I was desperately seeking because apparently I had no idea what I was doing.

The bodyguard gives me the sign that he’s about to leave and to give him space not blocking him as he walks to his car. I prepare myself as he walks out of the restaurant with a hot model linked up in his arms.

I begin taking photos of him as he starts laughing and smiling with his hot dance partner, which he was having a blast playing it up for my camera. I was having so much fun that I didn’t pay attention to a pole that was directly behind me as Mr. Clooney warns me about it, but it was too late as I hit the pole, stumbling to the concrete but I stand up immediately making sure I don’t lose anymore cool points with George.

I stop shooting him as he acts like a gentleman opening the car door for his date as she carefully gets into his car with her beautiful dress. This was my time to ask the questions that were haunting me the whole night.

“Mr. Clooney, how do you do it? How can I be a ladies man like yourself,” telling him with a straight face. 

At first he laughs at the question then responds, “I don’t know pal, I don’t think I’m a ladies man. I don’t got the answers,” telling me as he gets into his car.

I thought what the fuck?

If George Clooney, a guy’s guy, the dude that every man wanted to be, didn’t have the answers to one of life’s greatest mystery, which were women. What hope did I or any other man have in figuring out the opposite sex. Maybe my bitter ex-girlfriend was right, maybe I’ll never figure out females in my lifetime? Then all of the sudden the heavens opened up, showing the bright full Moon giving me the sign. Before he gets into his car, he drops this nugget of wisdom on me,

“Be yourself,” confidently telling me with his trademark George Clooney smile getting into his expensive car with his supermodel girlfriend. 


A large weight lifted off my chest because I knew that Clooney was right on the money. You gotta be yourself because you shouldn’t be someone you’re not for someone else because it doesn’t help you or the person you’re with. I get into my car watching Mr. Clooney drive off waving goodbye to him, thanking him for the great advice. As I finish my Mac and Cheese alone in my car listening to Bob Marley, happily being myself then I get a call from Angello,

“Yo, bro. Did you hear?”

“No, what happened?”

“Andy died during a chase.”

I pause for a moment as flashes of images of all of us hanging out with Andy in the past comes flooding into my head. I felt really sad inside and it was eerie that we were just talking about him.

“They were on the freeway and they were going really fast. I guess Andy tried to take a picture of the dude’s car and he wasn’t looking and he got hit by another car. He died immediately. Chit is fucked up mang. Sorry for talking chit. Drive home safely bro. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Thanks. You too bro. Drive home safely.”

I hang up the phone with great sadness in my heart because he didn’t deserve to die like that, he was a good kid with a great future in this business but I guess he went out doing the thing he loved the most, which was being a paparazzo. I guess you can’t get all the answers to life’s questions because this shit is still a mystery to me and maybe you’re not supposed to understand all of life’s questions. One moment you’re alive having a good time then all of the sudden your dead. I promised myself that whatever I’m doing in my life whether if it was good or bad, I was going to have a good time because this ride called life is short and I want to go out doing what I love the most, which was being myself and not giving a fuck.




Buy it on


The Doomsday Clock is 3 Minutes To Midnight – What would you do in 3 minutes or less? (Science is Awesome)


Wisdom Wednesdays – Know when to Open & Close it



I f*cking hate the snow! by Ryan Fu – Part 2 (The Hated Ones)

“8 kilograms. Step off and get back into line. Next recruit in line.”

It’s 430 in the morning, which a handful of us are waiting in line in an empty cold gymnasium. Fat Ass Camp people called us just waiting to get the results after 5 weeks of intense training aka learning how to crawl before we could walk. We spent the first week just learning how to march, which amazed me how I didn’t know my left foot to my right foot. It wasn’t like in the movies, there wasn’t a hardcore drilling instructor screaming at us to get into proper form. Officer Tune was much more efficient when he drilled us. Tune used more psychological methods when he drilled us. For example, he was a big fan of using peer pressure, which it worked 100% of the time. Like the time it actually stopped snowing, which I was relieved but we still had to train outside. I didn’t mind cause at least it wasn’t snowing because it sucked training when it snowed, but I quickly realized I rather work in the snow.

The “log drill” as it was affectionately called is a huge tree log, which it probably weighed over well over a ton and on a good day it took ten men to roll it up on a steep hill under 20 minutes. It worked every muscle burning your legs and arms but the reason it was the favorite for Officer Tune because it would fuck you up mentally as it made the strongest men look like average suckas. In today’s PT it was made to be simple for us as it was a mile group run around the track, a little calisthenics – 100 push ups and 200 sit ups then on to the log drill. On paper it sounded like the easiest task in the world, which only should have taken us under an hour but the Gods were not on our side even though it stopped snowing, it started pour down rain. It wasn’t the fun rain that you played in the schoolyard with your friends, it was the never-ending tsunami type of rain, which made the steep hill into quicksand. We quickly finished the run as well as the calisthenics in a timely manner, then we just had to roll up this huge as log up the hill and we could call it a day, but Officer Tune had something twisted for us up his sleeve. Before we got the drill going we chose the strongest kids from the division to do the Log Drill but Officer Tune stepped in, choosing the weakest people of group to complete the task. As you can guess, the kids from the Fat Ass Camp would have to do drill along with Ralph.

For the last couple of weeks, Ralph, who literally has a lineage of every family member being the military has been the last man in every drill, which includes military studies and combat training. With Officer Tune’s philosophy of finding the weakest link in the chain and making them stronger or find a way to get rid of the weakest part of the chain. Ralph was clearly the weakest part of the chain, which includes the women’s side of the division. He practically failed every evolution making everyone in the division do the exercise over and over again until everyone finished or got it right, which made Ralph the number one target to get hazed the by dudes in the division. As we got our positions on the log, Officer Tune made Ralph be in the center of the log, which is the heaviest part of the tree. Tune wanted to send a message to us as well as Ralph, which he did not want any weakness in his military and it worked. We had 20 minutes to roll up the log but we couldn’t even move the log a foot because of the rain and the mud.

We failed.

Everyone had to run another mile and more calisthenics than the Fat Ass Camp got back on the log, which we failed again to even move the log one inch. All of us had to repeat the drill all over again, which after 10 rounds in the rain, we were all mentally and physically drained. On the last log push, the rain made the ground so slippery that all of us lost our grip making the log roll down the line, steaming roll Ralph along with it. The whole division stood over Ralph with his face in the mud not feeling sad for him but realizing we do not want to be the weakest part of the chain. I believe this is what Tune wanted all a long. He wanted to show us we couldn’t survive out there without having strong team around us. The only thing I saw that day in the rain covered in mud was Ralph’s days were numbered in the division.

“10 kilograms recruit,” Officer Wang tells me.

“How many pounds is that?” I ask.

“22 pounds more pounds then you should be at your normal weight. We’re going to have to shed those unwanted pounds”

“22 pounds?” All I could think about was pizza and burgers. I would kill for a delicious Twinkie. Fuck Fat Camp, fuck BMI, the metric system and portion size meals. After we get the bad news on how grotesque we all were, we headed back for morning chow with the rest of the division.

“How was Fat Camp Cartman?”

“Fuck you Max.”

Max Sheldon aka Max a Million was a very athletic kid from Chicago, Illinois, who came from a good family and could have played college football but decided to join the military, so he could follow his dream with be part of the Seal team. He was good-looking blonde blue-eyed kid and was first in every drill we did, which made me want to choke the shit out of him. I didn’t even mention his hot blonde high school girlfriend. She had a pair of tits on her that could make any man happy. Plus, she had a petite body but had a great looking ass, which I think everyone in the division jerked it to her every night. I know I did, I even stole his picture of her when he wasn’t looking. She certainly helped me during those cold lonely nights.

“I think you got fatter, since the last time I saw you.”

“I jerked off to your girlfriend last night.”

“You wouldn’t even know what to do if you had her.”

“Of course I do. I would just jerk it on her chest like I do every night.”

“I know you stole that picture you degenerate.”

“How can you expect that hot piece of ass to wait for your dumbass for the next couple of weeks. She’s probably getting dicked down right now by the whole college basketball team.”

“Shut the fuck up. She’s loyal to me. We’re in love.”

“Yeah? It’s like me believing this tasteless oatmeal are slices of bacon, if I just imagined hard enough.”

“Just enjoy your meal fatass.”

I look down at my portioned sized meal and I just imagined as hard as I could that it was a large breakfast meal at iHop but it wasn’t as soon as I took the first bite. But the day was looking up because this was the day we were finally going to do weapons training.

“Listen up recruits. This is not a toy. These are your friends. This is the semi automatic M4 for short and long engagement. Your 12-gauge shotgun for short-range combat and your standard issue 9mm glock pistol. With our help you will be proficient with all these tools and stop any kinds of advance from the enemies attack. These are not toys. Respect them and maybe they will save your live and the lives of your follow men.”

I put that warm grip of the 9mm in my hand, which it felt like it was supposed to be in my hands as I point down range at the target. I fire two short burst then another, controlling my breath acting like I’ve been doing for a long time. I carefully aim at my target as I breath in and breath out as I gently squeeze the trigger shooting my weapon as like a true solider would. I clear my weapon and put the safety on as I pull in my target noticing I shot my target right in the center with perfect groupings.

“You’ve done this before kid?” Gunney asks me in amazement as he looks over my work.

“Nah. I’m just really good at Duck Hunt.”

Gunney doesn’t believe a word I’m saying, “Where you from son?”

“The ghettos of Los Angeles.”

“Well that makes sense in my head now boy. Keep it up and watch out for the kick on the shotgun.”

The Gunney pats me on the back as Max struggles with his weapon looking at me in disgust, which made me finally realize I found something I could be really good at. Unlike Ralph, he just sucked at everything as Officer Tune showed us once again during the gun range.

“Listen up recruits. We only accomplish our mission when the whole team has confidence in each other. The moment when we lose confidence or concentration our enemies are looking to capitalize on the situation. Each one of you must find out if the guy or girl next you are willing to die for you. A confident team is a successful team. With that being said Recruit Dunn step up to the line.”

FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. Everyone must have thought as Ralph stepped up to the line at the gun range because we all knew Tune’s mind games, which I really didn’t want to throw up my morning breakfast even though I needed to lose the weight.

“Recruits. Everyone has to pull their weight in this division because in real life combat there will be no reset button. You must trust the man next to you or you will die. Period. Recruit Dunn pick up your weapon and aim it down range. You have ten chances to land on the target and each time you miss the target the whole division had to do 20 Burpees until you actually shoot the target. Copy that?” Officer Tune asks a nervous Dunn with a smile on his face because he knew like we all knew that Dunn had no chance in hitting the target. Tune just wanted to show us once again weakness will not be tolerated in his military.

Dunn picks up the M4 and misses by a mile, which I knew right away I was going to throw up my breakfast in a couple of minutes.


“Recruit. Set. Fire!”

Dunn once again is nowhere near the target as to do burpee after burpee pouring of sweat on the gun range. Dunn misses all his 10 tries as we complete 100 burpees putting a smile on Officer Tune’s face.

“A chain is no stronger than its weakest link, and life is after all a chain.”

We all stare at Dunn as he finally puts down his weapon, which we all knew we must fix the problem because we’re all tired of this shit.

Defeated and exhausted we all head to chow for Thanksgiving dinner, which didn’t mean I would get off the diet as the Fat Club only got two slices of Turkey and a scoop of mashed potato as I close my eyes trying to imagine I’m about to eat a huge Thanksgiving feast but let’s face it, this fatboy wasn’t going to be satisfied tonight.

As we all go to sleep Thanksgiving night, I jerk it one more time to Max’s picture of his hot girlfriend. Did I mention she had perfect tits? I think I jerked at least three times a day to her and I know half the division also jerked as well along with a couple of girls from the another division touched themselves. She was fucking hot and I had no idea why she was Max because I always thought he was a bitch as we found out later that night.

In the middle of the night, the all lights turn on and the alarms go off as we all get out of our racks trying to figure out what the hell was going on? We run towards the starboard side of the windows watching a bunch MPs taking a dude down on the hill in the snow. I thought to myself that guy looks familiar?

“Dudes, check this shit?” Griff gathers us reading a letter from Dunn’s girlfriend. “Dear Max a Million, hope you are doing well. Just wanted to let you know that I found someone else. We’re getting married next year. I still love you but just as a friend. I hope you are not angry at me but you didn’t expect me to wait for you, did you? Anyways, we’re all proud of you and please don’t try to contact me. Love, Shannon.”

We all start laughing as we rummage through his things finding more photos of his girlfriend for the jerk off bank while the other wolves steal his personal items. I walk back to the window as I make eye contact with Max as he gets escorted by the MPs to the brig as I put the picture of his girlfriend I stole from him on the window making him go ape shit. I thought to myself, “one down, a couple more assholes to go.”

A week goes by without any other incidents we all get a day off from training as we get close in finishing our 9-week training. I was a big fan of shinning my boots because it was a form of mediation for me as I could mentally escape and picture myself back at home smoking weed. But it was interrupted as Griff walks by and spits his Rooster on my shiny boots.

I lose my shit.

I run after Griff clubbing him over the head with the same boot he just spit on. He falls on the ground as everyone stops what they are going just to focus on us. I run towards to the showers waiting for the response from Griff as I grab the steel trashcan from the bathroom hiding in the corner of the showers waiting like a lion for his prey. I turn on all the showers making it hard to see in the room as steam fills the room. Griff comes storming inside the showers as he slips on the wet floors. He tries to get up but I smash once again with the steel trashcan. I stand over him dropping the trashcan next him as I take off my belt.

“Have you’ve met Cindy? Cindy was this slut on my block that could only get off if you restricted her breathing during sex. Sexual Asphyxiation is what they called it. She would tell the dudes who fucked her to take off their belts wrap it around her neck and literally choke to shit out of her as she got off. I think it’s time for you to meet Cindy.”

I walk outside without my belt from the showers wet but victorious as the whole division was waiting outside the restrooms. I stare at the whole division as they make a hole for me to walk through because everyone knew in the division knew now that you shouldn’t fuck around with the fat kid shinning his boots. Needless to say no one fucked with me after that including Griff, which he didn’t even look me during the rest of training. I guess he didn’t like his meeting with Cindy but then again who likes being choked out in the men’s showers with a military belt by a fat kid.

More weeks go by with more training and studying, which we finally made to our final week of boot camp as the Fat Camp meets up again at the gymnasium checking out our results after weeks of intense physical training.

“Congrats Recruit Fu. You shed those unwanted pounds and you’re at your normal bodyweight.” Officer Wang tells me.

I step off the scale feeling proud of myself as we get ready for graduation in the morning. Everyone looks good in the their dress blues as we march to our graduation. Friends and family members watch all of us do our thing as we graduate from Boot Camp throwing our sailor hats in the air. All of us have day off which most spend it with friends or family members before we get picked up by the buses tomorrow morning to get out of Boot Camp. I decided to keep it low-key and just hang in the barracks listening to music reading books. Everyone felt great as they came back to the barracks before curfew as I start to hear rumors of something going down later in the evening. As I feared it had something to do with Recruit Dunn as I over hear someone talk about the plan.

“Socks and Soaps. Dunn is Done.”

Moments later Dunn actually came up to me thanking me for helping him out during the training. He tells me without my help he wouldn’t have survived the training. He was so grateful because his family was so proud of him but I couldn’t tell him about the shit storm that was about to come his way. This was the unwritten rule in military: We take care of all problems in-house. Shut your mouth and never go against the pack.

So, I just wait until it finally went down in the middle of the night like all things fucked up things do. Half the division get out of their racks with soaps in their socks using it as a club as they silently walk up towards Dunn rack. Two recruits go on each side of Dunn’s rack grabbing his blanket holding him down as Griff stands over Dunn’s head removing his belt then wrapping his belt around Dunn’s neck choking him as the rest of the recruits with their soak clubs start beat the shit of Dunn. The whole thing only lasted a minute or two but the damage has been done as Dunn is bleeding and crying in his bed. I turn over in my bed trying to go to sleep stuffing my pillow over my ears so I could stop hearing Dunn cry in his bed.

The lights and alarms go off again in early in the morning, waking all of us as I notice that Dunn wasn’t in his rack anymore. Officer Wang tells us to stand by our racks at attention as Officer Johnson picks out the boys who were part of the hazing of Dunn including Griff. All of them walk towards the MPs who were waiting in the hallways. Officer Wang tells us to get ready and pack up our things to get on the buses soon. I quickly get my shit ready because I want to get out this shit show as soon as possible.

“Attention on Deck!”

Officer Tune walks into the barracks walking down the aisle as we stood in attention as he points me out. “Step into my office recruit.”

FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. I stare at my shiny boots wondering what the fuck is this about as I walk inside Tune’s office standing in attention in front his desk. I’ve never been inside his office as I stare at his wall with his numerous amounts of military awards and degrees. I also notice a small submarine figure on his desk next to a family photo of his wife and kid.

“At ease recruit. You ever wondered what I did before I became boot camp trainer?”

I just shake my head no still wondering what is this all about, which I hope it wasn’t about the Griff incident in the showers.

“I was a sub engineer. I was the best at it because I loved it. I loved being underwater for months on end. My friends used to call me Tune the Tuna because I loved being the water. But it takes a total on your family because it takes away time that you should be spending with your family. Don’t get me wrong I love my family, but I love the military more. I love it so much I would kill for it,” Officer Tune tells me as he grabs his 9mm from his drawer checking the magazine and clicking it back into the gun. “I’m going to ask you just one time, did you know how lead the hazing of Dunn?”

I look into Tune’ eyes firmly saying, “No, sir.”

Tune puts his glock back into his desk smiling at me. “I like you Fu. You sorta remind of myself because you keep your mouth shut and get your business done quietly. I heard what you did to Griff.”

FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. I turn white as a ghost.

“I gotta admit I loved it. I had this prick back in the day that kept fucking with me in the sub. He pushed me until I had to show him Laura. Laura is a girl back in my hometown that like to be choked out while she had sex with my friends. I believe she knows Cindy.” Officer Tune smiles at me in amusement. “I proud of you son for being part of my military because you’re a tough little shit and you know the golden rule: Keep you motherfuckin mouth shut.” Officer Tune stands in attention and salutes me as he tells me to get out of his office.

I walk outside his office wondering what the fuck just happened but I couldn’t think about too much because Officer Wang just informed me that the buses are about to leave in twenty minutes and we all have to run two miles to get to the buses. It was a free for all as we all grab our gear, which it all weighed at least over 50 pounds as we storm out of the barracks running for our lives trying to get on the buses to get out of this hell hole.

For the people who couldn’t make it on the buses today, they would have had to wait another week for the buses to return to pick them up again. I decided fuck that as I used my new athletic prowess, which without the extra pounds on my body, I ran towards the bus like I was on fire as I passed up recruit after recruit as I safely get on the bus, huffing and puffing but I was happy as fuck that I made it on the bus. As the buses left the base I looked at our barracks in the horizon that were on that shitty hilltop with that fucked up log, which I could see Officer Tune standing outside the barrack waving at us. I pull down window putting my arm out extending my middle finger in the air. I wonder if I any of us actually found enlightenment. I was just glad to get out that hell but I knew I was just replacing one hell for another. I guess we’re all doomed rolling up a log or rock up a hill until we die. At least I don’t have to see portioned size meals anymore as I eat my Twinkie riding out of boot camp.




Buy it on