Spaghetti

So there I was, a 23-year old Swirl, the year 1973, boiling spaghetti and reading Hemingway, the one where the protagonist chooses to eschew emotion and pushes himself through the void of existence using only his swift power. Maybe that was all of them. What's the difference. This is a life I feel has been lived 13 times or more. Slight variations, but always spaghetti, and, well, always cats. Tokyo is a suffocating place to not have a cat. Sometimes I feel like I want to just crawl into a well, though I fear - more than waking up alone in a forever black pit of despair, blacker than the souls of the right wing politicians selling the war machine, blacker than my first cat, who I never bothered to name, blacker even than my shameful whiskey-soddened memories of my ex-wife - that my spaghetti would get cold before I could finish eating it. Or that my bottle of Cutty Sark would break on my journey into the precipice.
As the timer dings, I taste a single strand and add another minute to the clock. The only thing I like that hard boiled is a Chandler novel. I have several.
The phone rings and my mind goes blank.

The Dick Rises

When is black hollywood gonna start co-opting superhero movies? it took them about 15 years to make their 4 weddings and a funeral, so it's about time they caught onto the whole super hero movie bit. Tyler Perry Presents: The Dark Knight

Shit Talk

There's certain things, when you work in an office, that you learn about people that most other people, even their family members, wouldn't know. Like when you take a daily poop next to them with only a 1 inch piece of metal, not connected at the corners, between you. Here's the thing about shit: everybody likes their own brand. So you might wonder about someone, how does he like the food from that shitty chinese place on the corner? Then you smell their shit and realize that this is a smell that person deals with on a daily basis, and perhaps is the same smell the purveyors of the shitty chinese place had in mind when they made the food.