The Sailboat & The Lighthouse by Ryan Fu (Happy Father’s Day)



Just give it up bro.

Fighting off 

your second heart attack 

making the doctors 



jumpstart you 

like you were an old Mercedes

with a fading car battery. 

I wanted you to stop, 

end your suffering 


move on 

to your next adventure. 

But it wasn’t in you to quit. 

It wasn’t in your nature 

to give up. 

Growing up I‘ve never seen you 

take a days off 

always being a steady workhorse. 

You were a fighter all the way 

to the end. 

You fought in hundreds of battles

fighting off your demons. 

But we couldn’t see you 

suffer anymore. 

We had to throw in the towel. 

You wouldn’t go down

for your own good

because you wanted to die 

on your shield. 

You were a warrior,

a teacher,

a leader,

a husband.

You were my father.

But you look foreign to me

laying in your death-bed

looking weak 


a shell of your former 

strong lively self.

You just lay there waiting 

for the boatman to ferry you across 

to the next world

staring past your family 

at the foot of your bed 

looking at that whack ass art print

in your room of a tiny sailboat 

heading towards a lighthouse.

The meaning was simple 

but I wonder if it was meant to be there

making your transition easier. 

In any case, 

this was your last voyage,

saying our goodbyes.

We will all miss you.

O Captain! My Captain!

Take to the rough seas 

one last time


head towards the light

onto your next adventure.




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Unicorn Frappuccino – Will you try it?


The Foods Around Me

Probably the worst tasting Starbucks drink ever to be created. Literally tastes like a unicorn went to chipotle and shit in a cup.

Unicorn Frappucino:

An instant star of social media platforms, it’s literally on all of them check. Starbucks released this limited time drink in all stores this week. Being completely different than all other drink releases the description on the drink is absolutely terrible.

The Starbucks description reads:

“The flavor-changing, color-changing, totally-not-made-up Unicorn Frappuccino. Magical flavors start off sweet and fruity transforming to pleasantly sour. Swirl it to reveal a color-changing spectacle of purple and pink. It’s finished with whipped cream sprinkled pink and blue fairy powders.”

How it should be described:

This drink misses its mark on all levels. The sweetness completely overpowers the flavors of the drink. Its sourness is a blue raspberry that takes away from the mango syrup. The consistency doesn’t help the uniqueness in flavor. It has a…

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Women Crush Wednesday (Throwback) – Lindsay Lohan “Smoke Break” by Ryan Fu

It was another hectic car chase with Lindsay today following her from her mandatory community service at the Red Cross. I always thought chasing someone on the streets was already crazy but successful following someone on the freeway took skills and balls. Especially when Lindsay was behind the wheel pretending it was the Indy 500 trying to get away from us. She wanted to stay out of the public eye because of the recent bad press about her rock star lifestyle. Of course, the media blew it out proportion calling her a troubled lost young adult, not resembling her younger former self. In any case, she didn’t give up all day long which seemed like she wasn’t going to give it up without a fight. 

We were determined to get a shot of her because everyone wanted to know what she was up to and everyone loves a fall from grace story. We carefully navigate our cars in and out of traffic, amazingly not causing any traffic accidents. She thankfully gets off the freeway heading towards Hollywood. We all prepare ourselves for her landing, telling my partner in the other car to get ready. She drives into a residential neighborhood, finally stopping at her assistant’s house. 

We quickly park our rides right in the middle of street blocking incoming traffic. We try to shoot her as soon as she gets out of her car but she puts her jacket over her head running towards the house as we try to get any kind of angle of her face but failing miserably. We then make the cardinal sin by getting on her property but I noticed what we were going and I stopped myself but unfortunately it didn’t stop the others from trying to take pictures of her. Looking at other paps not give a fuck about her private space as they walk all over the assistants Rose garden, shooting her right on her doorstep as she walks in to get away from the savages. 

Most of the paps decide to leave because they all felt like she wasn’t going out anymore because we acted like such animals towards her on the way in. My partner and I were the only ones to stay behind because we didn’t great shots of her going in. We quietly stayed inside of our cars hoping that she would step out again trying to get something for all our hard work today. An hour passes by as I start becoming claustrophobic inside of my own car.

I had to step outside, lighting up a fag. My partner had the same brilliant idea joining me outside as we smoked right in front of Lindsay’s house. As we were trying to relax we hear a faint call in the distance. It was Lindsay asking for a match.

We turn around looking at Lindsay walk towards us as we both don’t react to what was happening. She casually walks up towards us asking for a light again as my partner finally gives her a lighter. There was a bit of awkward silence for a couple of minutes as you would imagine as we both look at Lilo both of us thinking, why the hell we are not shooting the shit out her. She breaks the uncomfortable silence by talking about the weather as we respond with one word answers still in shock to what was going on. We were in the Twilight Show where she was a normal person and we weren’t scumbag paparazzis trying to get a photo.

We were just normal people sharing a metaphorical fire together using the bond of lung cancer. Looking at her carefully smoking her cigarette, she didn’t look like a troubled or lost person. She looked like any another young woman trying to get her shit together but with the add pressure of media. If we were in her shoes we wouldn’t probably handle it as well as she did. She finished her last puff saying it was great talking to us even though we only said a couple of words. It was nice to see we could be normal people if only for a couple of minutes. 

She walked back into her house as we walk back into our cars thinking about how amazing that interaction was between us and Lindsay. A couple of minutes later she came out with her assistant as we start shooting her again, walking towards her car pretending that we didn’t have an incredible bond we made just minutes ago.

But this is what it is, a symbiotic relationship between the hunted and the hunters, but always knowing we were all the same.

Just a bunch of people trying to make sense of this crazy ass world we are living in which all of us trying are best and hopefully we can stop cutting each other down, but let’s face it.

Haters are going to hate. It’s easy to say shit while you’re looking up from the bottom. I say “fuck em,” give them a reason to hate and just do you. Remember not everyone liked Jesus, but it didn’t stop him from being legendary.




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Poetry Mondays – Cat’s Tongue by Ryan Fu



I stand across from you

in our tiny studio apartment

letting the silence fill up the space

as I wonder what happened to us.

We used to be inseparable,

but now we’re ghost, haunting each other

waiting on faith like Jack and Rose

onboard the Titanic.

I wonder if one our cats could talk,

what they would say?

They probably would say what we were

too scared to say.

That this is over.

There’s no going back.

You can’t put a Band Aid

in a gaping hole. 

So, I stand across from you

in our tiny studio apartment.

Between us an ocean of unhappiness

waiting for a life raft.




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Legends by Ryan Fu (The Hated Ones)



As a kid,

I’ve always wanted to capture

a dragon

but I wondered what

would I’ve done

if I actually caught one?

So day in


day out

I eat


take shit

with a smile on my face

just for the chance to write

my own story.

Because isn’t that the only reason

why we do anything?

Why we abuse


torture ourselves,

until we are halfway to our graves. 

We want to be remembered.

We want our words



to live on past the afterlife

making us immortal.

We are tired of not being the narrative

because we want to stand out.

We want to become heroes

in our own story. 

So, I remain steadfast

with my pen


my balls

waiting for the opportunity,

still chasing that dragon.

Photo Credit: Andy Fair Hurst




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Cat’s Tongue by Ryan Fu



I stand across from you

in our tiny studio apartment

letting the silence fill up the space

as I wonder what happened to us.

We used to be inseparable,

but now we’re ghost, haunting each other

waiting on faith like Jack and Rose

onboard the Titanic.

I wonder if one our cats could talk,

what they would say?

They probably would say what we were

too scared to say.

That this is over.

There’s no going back.

You can’t put a Band Aid

in a gaping hole. 

So, I stand across from you

in our tiny studio apartment.

Between us an ocean of unhappiness

waiting for a life raft.




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The King & I by Ryan Fu (RIP Michael Jackson)


Be Like Water


Driving around in L.A. I haven’t got anything good for the last couple of weeks wondering if I lost my touch. Then a call comes in and I know it’s a tip for a celebrity but this one was different. It was a tip for the Michael Jackson. I loose my shit and put the metal to the pedal, running through red lights definitely breaking a couple of traffic laws. I had to drive like a maniac because this wasn’t a regular celebrity I was about to shoot. This was King of Pop.

The media hasn’t seen him since his last court tribulations, so I wondered how this is going to turn out. I never thought I would shoot an icon like Michael but you get to do and meet interesting people when you do this profession. And yes, it is a profession. Even though a lot people would say…

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Frosted Balls by Ryan Fu (The Hated Ones)

Be Like Water


It was over 100 degrees again today in Los Angeles, where the mere the thought of going outside caused you to sweat. It was so hot that it was inhumane to even work outside. So, Chuck and I decided to chill out at a friends pad to get out of the heat. 

“I love these low-calorie health bars,” Chuck says to me while unwrapping another energy bar.

“How many of those have you had?” Playing Call of Duty with my headset on. “BigDick90 I need you to secure the package, also watch out for snipers.”

“I’ve had like four, I’m going to lose weight in no time,” finishing another one.

“BigDaddy, I need you to throw a grenade in the building to clear out our path. BigDick watch our back while we go in.”

“I’m going to look great in my neon thong,” as Charles check outs his figure in…

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Do what you gotta do & Sea Sick by Ryan Fu (The Hated Ones)


I take a look over the starboard side as we pull into port seeing these ghost-like fish in the water.

“Hey bro, what are those?”


“They look cute.” 

“Sure, if you like kissing a thousand tasers?”


“They can kill you in seconds.”

“There’s not many out here right?”

“Oh no, they’re everywhere over here but there are more sharks but it’s cool they’re the least of your concerns.”

Wondering what else could be least of my concerns with deadly ghost-like fishes swimming all around me, I step onto the quarterdeck with the heat hitting me all at once, which I finally knew what he was talking about. Fuck it was hot. No wonder Jesus died over her.

“Hey bro, is it usually this fucking hot?” 

“Nah, it’s pretty cool today.”

“I guess they were right in bootcamp that was like Hell over here.”

“What? That was bullshit, it barely goes over 130 degrees over here on a good day. Have a nice day and enjoy the pizza.”

I salute him getting off the boat, trying to figure out what the fuck he was talking about but the closer I got to the ground the hotter it got. It was way hotter on land as could feel the heat bouncing back off the concrete. I was already pouring sweat and I haven’t got into any combat yet. Of course, my natural response to suffering is to get blacked out drunk. I ask a raghead where I could get a drink and he points me out to the Beer Hut as he stares at me like he wanted to kill me. Which I could feel the hate while was walking around on base with the natives checking me out wondering how to kill me without alarming any bells.

I enter this pathetic excuse of fun and recreation going to straight for the alcohol. I double fists two tall boys and down the medicine in my head right away. It tasted like a mixture of dog piss and sweat. So, I decided maybe should grab some pizza to go this epic beverage. It looked like a normal pizza but there was something different but not in a good way about this meal. As I was eating it both my mouth and brain was simultaneous telling me that something was not right. As I try to swallow and figure out this enigma someone quietly tells me, “its goat meat.”

“What?” With my mouth full which apparently was full of goat meat.

“It’s goat meat, that’s why it tastes kinda weird but you’ll get used it. Hopefully, you get that bacteria like this guy did last week and died.” 

Then it hit me. Everything about this place is meant to kill you.

The sharks,

the jellyfishes,

the heat 


the people all want to kill you including the goats.

Life lesson number three: What doesn’t kill you, makes you stranger.

I throw up the goat meat as he introduces himself, “My name is Skuba I’m from Long Beach. How many times have you’ve masterbated today. I think I jerked it five times today, wait, I just came right now. Anyways sometimes I use my left hand if want something new and mysterious, you know what I’m talking about?” Skuba tells me this with no expressions on his face. He seemed like a normal white dude that kinda looked a skinhead with a shaved head but there was nothing normal about this dude. He had all the qualities of a human being but he definitely was missing a chromosome or two. I tell him it was great meeting him excusing myself, thinking what the fuck was that about. Walking back to my barracks, which it was around dusk and it was still hot as fuck. No wonder everyone was such in a bad mood around here as I could hear mortars and gunshots close by with men’s voices shouting in the distance. Fuck I realized, I’m actually in Hell. I decided to call back home to check in with the folks before I hit the rack.

“Hey, dad.”

“How is it out there?” 

“Super. Everything is great!”

All fathers can tell when their own flesh and blood is lying to them.

“Just take care of yourself and look out for you.”

“I hear you dad.”

“Your mother and I are very proud of you.”

This was more puzzling to hear this than the goat pizza because I was such a hellrazer growing up, causing such pain for my parents. I guess my parents were starting to respect me for being out here as human body bag.

“Thanks dad.”

“Just come home to us. Do what you gotta do.”

(Life lesson number four)

“Will do.” Click.

“Jesus. What did you eat last night?” Skuba asks me as I throw up in a wastebasket. 

“Nothing but the best for me. Had the military’s finest chow this morning.” Telling Skuba wiping the puke off my face.

“How are you even sick right now? The waves are so choppy right now. They’re like 5 feet tall, they’re not even affecting the boat.” A confused Skuba asks while he stares at radar screen with his headphones on.

“It feels like I’m one of those fucked Magic Mountain rides that shoots all the way up then drops all the way down as it repeats the process over and over again.”

“You know what I had for breakfast this morning? Last night’s enchiladas, just heated those bitches up the microwave added salsa and spicy Velveeta cheese dip, sprinkled hot Fritos over that shit, it was the bomb!”

I grab the wastebasket again putting my whole head inside as I throw up again.

“I think I need another trash can. This one is getting full.”

“You should have taken that Dramamine before we sailed out. Unknown contact Starboard side bearing 060.”

“Fuck no. I’m not weak.”

“Clearly you are. You’re not an expert sailor like I am.”

“You’ve been on a boat once and it was a cruise liner.”

“I’m a Mer-Man. I was made for the sea. This is why I eat all that tuna.”

“You eat Tuna in a bag. Can we not talk about seafood right now?”

“Starboard side lookout can you ID the unknown contact at 030?”

I start to get mesmerized by all the bright lights inside CIC. “I think I’m going to throw up again.”

“Can you throw up on the screen? I want to get off this monitor, this is too much responsibility for me?”

“Combat – Starboard side lookout. On the binos, it appears to be a cargo/ fishing vessels. It’s flying Canadian flag and the crew members are working outside. Copy that.” 

“Copy that. Canadian Al Quida fishermen are on the starboard side. Let’s light those motherfuckers up.”

“You’re an idiot. There are no Canadian fishermen terrorists.”

“Bro, you never know homie. They might be hiding WMDs inside the fish. We gotta attack them before they attack us. It’s called a preemptive attack, dog.”

“Okay, George W. What are they going to do throw fish at us?”

“Shit, don’t matter what they throw at us. We got Sea Wiz.”

Sea Wiz as we called was a close-in weapon system, which is used for detecting and destroying short-range incoming missiles and enemy aircraft. It was our last line of defense between the enemies attack, including Canadian fisherman terrorists.

“Starboard side lookout – Combat. They got a hull number on that badboy?”

“Starboard – Combat. Yeah it BZ1569.”

“Hey, McQuizzy. If you’re not to busy throwing up all over the place can you give me any Intel this high value target on my right side? If it’s too much to ask?”

“Copy that dick. Give me sec.”

“Bring that trashcan with you. I don’t want to be paying for any military equipment you throw up on.”

I grab the little wastebasket as I go check on the computer for any Intel on the vessel.

“Hey Captain Moron. That’s a fueling tank. We’re supposed to refuel with her in an hour.”

“Damn it. I was going get my Purple Heart.”

“I don’t they give to retards.”

“Why do they always call boats female?” Aren’t there gay or transgender boats out there?”

“I’m going with the don’t ask or tell policy.”

OS Chief Walker walks into CIC acting really irritable as he plays with his thick porno style mustache.

“Guys, I need both of you guys on the flight deck in a hour to help with the refueling. I know you guys haven’t slept in two days ever since that incident and we are short staffed but they need every man who’s available. I tried to make the IT guys do it, but those candy asses with their precious jerk off hands can’t get their hands dirty. Fucking nerds! So, when you get relieved in hour by the other watch, head out there on the flight deck with overalls and pretend like you’re actually give a shit about job. I’m going to my rack and try to jerk one off before chow. Also, change out the fucking air fresheners in here. It smells like fucking Tijuana in here, you dirty bastards!” OS Walker tells as he leaves CIC.

We both start laughing hysterically then both of us got serious.

“Fuck this sucks.”

“At least were not going to going to the weather decks going deck maintenance.”

“That’s dumb as hell as well. I mean its seawater. It’s supposed to fuck up shit. Do we have to do maintenance while we’re at sea?”

“That really sucked being out there when it was 100 degrees but we did get to see a crazy ass view,” Skuba tells me while he fixes his radar.

It was a crazy ass view as Skuba and I were out on the decks a couple days ago going maintenance on the decks, just hammering and chiseling on the hard floors both of us wondering what the hell we are going this for?

“Why do we have to fix this shit again? Does the enemy even fucking care about our weather decks?” I shout at Skuba as I wipe the sweat in my eyes.

“No, bro. It’s all about discipline and being a team member.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Okay, the Captain sometimes comes out here to smoke a fag and he doesn’t want to see shitty ass decks on his fucking boat because he’s an obsessive control freak.”

“Thank you.”

“Hey, isn’t that Clint?”

I look up of where Skuba was pointing noticing it was Clint on the edge of the flight deck? Clint was just standing alone staring at the ocean with a concerned look on his face.

“What the fuck is he doing?” I ask Skuba.

“Maybe he’s going to swim back to the main land to get back with his wife.”

“That’s not funny.”

“It’s kinda funny. It’s only took a month and the bitch has slept with everyone on the Lacrosse team in her college.”

“How the fuck do you know do that?”

“He told me while we were playing Madden a couple days ago.”

“Fuck I got a big mouth.”

“It’s fine bro. It’s our job to know this.”

“We’re only supposed to monitor for unusually activity or if they’re giving out any sensitive information. Not know if they’re wife is a big whore or not.”

“Hey, man. You don’t gotta feel sorry for him or yourself. We all knew what we signed up for when we signed on the dotted line.”

I was astonished because Skuba was right. We all knew what the risks were when you signed up for the military. Skuba talks a lot of crazy shit but sometimes he just says shit that just makes sense, but most of the time it’s just crazy shit.

“Dolphins!” Skuba screams out in enjoyment like a ten-year old boy.

I look over the side wondering where they were going, and then I see Clint jump of the flight deck like it was nothing. From the flight deck to the water had of been hundred feet or more, which you could survive from but you could have died from the shock or the jellyfishes. Those fucked up ass jellyfishes. The Man Over board alarm goes off as Skuba and I run back to CIC to tell the Chief but Walker was already on it as they turn the boat around deploying the rescue team to pick up Clint. Apparently, he stuck the landing and didn’t break anything except for his ego as we saw him in the mess hall going to medic to get evaluated as the rumors were circling around the ship about his whore of wife, who is now divorcing him. I’m not even sure why they needed to evaluate him. He’s life is falling apart and he wants to go back home. I guess after a couple months out here you just get sick of the sea and you just want to go home. As Skuba eloquently puts it, “damn it, we should have bet if he would survived the fall.”

But I guess we all have bills to pay and a job is job, so after days on watch not getting any sleep because we were on suicide watch, Skuba and I were on the flight deck in our overalls doing our duty, pretending that we actually gave a fuck.

“All time Batman.” Skuba asks me as he lies down on his back at the refueling party.

“Are we talking about the tv series or the movie series? Also, why is it called a refuel party? Not one motherfucker out here is having fun.”

“Movie Series. It’s a refuel party because they need a group of dumb motherfuckers to do all the manual labor.”

“There has to be a better aka smart way then shooting a line at a boat then hauling it in as they attach the big ass fuel line on it. The probability of this going tits up is high as fuck.”

“Jesus, I wish I was high as fuck right now. I’ll go first Michael Keaton.”

“He was pretty good.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? He is the gold standard of Batman.”

“Listen, I’m not saying he sucked. He was really good as Batman but I am really fond for Val Kilmer.”

“I don’t even know you anymore,” Skuba tells me sitting up shaking his head at me as they whistle us to line up for the refueling.

The tanker has to be close enough to us so the refueling line is nice and even so when they transfer fuel to us there isn’t any leakage because it might start a fire and blow our asses out of the water, which is another reason why this procedure if not done correctly could be really dangerous for our crew and theirs. Thank god they chose Skuba and I to be part of this highly important task.

“Val Kilmer was a joke. He almost killed the Batman franchise.”

The tanker blows its whistle as we prepare ourselves as they shoot out their refueling line thru a median size ball.

“Are you kidding me? George Clooney was the joke, in that pansy ass purple underwear,” I tell Skuba as we both duck and cover as the refuel ball line gets shot out of the tanker and lands safely on our flight deck. Everyone at the refueling party grabs the refueling line, pulling the rope in trying to get the refueling hose close to us.

“George had a lot on his plate coming right after the great Michael Keaton. What did you expect? I think his performance was a fresh of breath air and gave a new dimension to the role.” Skuba confidently tells me as we all pull in the fuel line getting it connected with our fuel line as the refueling party leader tells us to relax and wait around until the transfer of fuel was complete.

“Fine. George was a good Batman. I’m just saying Kilmer was better than all of them.”

Skuba is visibly upset now pacing back and forth on the flight deck beside himself.

“You know I’m the biggest Batman aficionado on this boat and maybe biggest fan in the ocean right now.”

“Pacific and Atlantic?” I sarcastically tell Skuba.

“You can add the motherfuckin Arctic and the Indian Ocean to that shit. You want to see my Batman underwear?”

“I never want to see your underwear! Every time when I wake up you always roll out of your rack ass first,” I tell Skuba as I notice the tanker was suspiciously really close to us.

“I’m taking off my overalls and showing you right now.”

“Hey, idiot isn’t the tanker really close to us,” as we both look up then the collision alarm goes off.


“What the fuck do we do?” Asking Skuba as he already curled up into a ball in the fetal position like a baby.

“Brace for impact!” Someone yells.

There was nothing around me, so I just grabbed a piece the flight deck and grabbed my balls, hoping this wasn’t the end, cursing the Gods, wondering why the hell I was actually out here?

“I fucking hate the sea!” I scream out.

“Michael Keaton is the best Batman ever!” Skuba screams out has we hit the fuel tanker making this huge crunching noise that echoed through the ocean as everyone gets thrown off their equilibrium as we all ducked and covered, then a huge blast went off in front of the boat.

I finally had the balls to look up and noticed a huge black smoke cloud in front of our boat. Apparently, the fuel tanker hit us right on our bow, which is close to CIC and close to our berthing department.

“If you aren’t hurt, we need people in front of the ship immediately!” A marine sergeant screams to us.

Then the fight or flight gear kicks in as I say fuck it running with the sergeant along with a couple of shipmates as we get inside the ship, noticing there was water on the deck and most of the compartments had water but it wasn’t too serious because the collision team immediately closed off and made the compartments that were damaged water tight. As I go through compartment after compartment, I finally make it to the front of ship stopping at CIC noticing that everyone inside didn’t look to concerned to what just happened as I see Chief Walker with his feet up on the combat console chewing on a stogie playing with his mustache.

“Fucking idiots,” Chief Walker says.

“Is everyone in here okay?” I ask people on watch in CIC.

“Has it already been 12 hours?


“Then fuck off!”

“It sounds you like guys are okay.”

I make it past navigation finally making to the bow, where a couple of shipmates where clearing the debris as people in charge were accessing the damage. I get close to the damage looking across at the tanker, which there was a huge hole that looked like Pacman took a bite out of their ship as they slowly moved away from us. They got the worse of it but we had significant damage as well as I could see the bottom of the bow that wasn’t even there anymore, which was funny cause I could see compartment that was close to ours that was comprised. From far away our ship looked like it was a shark above water from the damage it took from the tanker.

No one died, a couple of got a few scratches and bruises but it could have been worse. It was amazing that the fuel didn’t catch on fire and both our ships blew up. I mean there could have been a million things that could have gone wrong, but we ended up walking away from it, even though we would had to go to Hawaii to spend a month or two for repairs on the boat, which wasn’t that fucking bad but unfortunately our cool ass captain lost his command of the ship even though it wasn’t his fault but I guess the captain always goes down with the ship.

I stare into the beautiful Pacific Ocean horizon with the dolphins playing next to us having not a care in the world as two tug boats assist us on our way to Hawaii with a little smoke and a little breeze through our boat but we’ve all gained a better appreciation for the sea as well as life. A bunch of us could have died that day but sea had other plans for us. The sea giveths and the sea takeths, but today she was on our side as I stare at the Sun fall into the ocean with clear skies, wondering what my love ones were doing right now as we were hundreds of miles away from home heading to our unknown future but at least I was finally getting my sea legs underneath me. Then I hear Skuba, I spot him just in his black Batman underwear eating tuna holding magazines, shouting at me at the top of his lungs beneath from the damaged bow standing near our birthing compartment.

“Bro! My Batman comics and Penthouse magaz are fine. Woooo! This is a great view. I told you Michael Keaton was the best Batman ever!”


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Potential is a Lake by Ryan Fu (The Hated Ones)


Be Like Water

Screen Shot 2016-01-03 at 10.42.02 PM

Potential is a lake

in the desert.

Slowly evaporating

away until

there is nothing.

Nothing but

the remanence

of what could

have been.

Only the dead

live there.

A vessel

filled with

the might-have-beens.

Surrounded by bodies

of regret



It dries up


blows away

until it becomes

dust in the wind.

Photo Credit: Flickr


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