SPOON, FULL OF TRUTH

A heavy dose of truth, humor, and political activism.

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Location: Phila, Pennsylvania, United States

Saturday, December 17, 2005

LOGGING ON

#1 IN YOUR HEARTS, #2 IN YOUR TOILETS Yeah I'm childish sometimes. I'm a guy. Recently I decided it was time to coin a new phrase for taking a shit. My brother had dropped the term "smash" many times before and I thought I might adopt that. Shortly there after he began to use the same term for "knockin down a jawn" (that's sex with a girl to the layperson). "I just smashed," he'd tell me, eyes full of pride. That's great little brother but did you just fuck some hot chick or take a monster dump? I would have to continue the search. Being a person that spends a lot of time on the internet, I borrowed a phrase from my friends from the world wide web, logging on. Never again will you have to excuse yourself from the room to "take a shit" or "drop the kids off at the pool." From now on just tell your company you're going to log on. They'll probably just think you're going to check your email or read something inspiring online (this blog comes to mind). NIGHTMARE ON GAY STREET Afraid of the dark? How about things that go bump in the night? Werewolves? Vampires? Freddy vs. Jason? Well the closed minded Republicans who are running this country have a much more scary enemy to fight: love. "Oh my god! Run for your lives! There are two men over there and I think, oh god no, they're in love with each other!" Simmer down GOP. We have homeless people starving to death of the streets. We have kids who are being fast tracked to prison by the GOP inner-city education program, people are dying because they can't get proper health care without giving up luxuries like food and electricity, and you cock-smokers are worried about two dudes falling in love. Get you fucking priorities in order. What do you care if two men (or two women...and not just the hot ones fellows, the ugly butch ones as well) fall in love? How is that hurting you? Can't you just stick to normal GOP tactics and find a way to purchase and exploit gay love for tremendous profits? Or could it be that love just isn't welcome in your environment of fear? It wasn't so long ago in this country that blacks and women didn't have any rights either. It's called a civil rights movement dickheads, get used to it. NEON WOULDN'T LIE TO ME My wife and I went out for dinner tonight with good friends of ours. After a slight debate we decided on Mexican food. My friend knew a place he said was pretty good and all it took was pulling up in front of the place for me to believe him. Right on the side of the building in glowing neon for all to see read a gigantic sign: BEST MEXICAN FOOD IN PHILLY. You can't just write something in neon if it's not true right? I mean, neon and me go way back, neon wouldn't lie to me, right? Let me tell you something people. Neon is a backstabbing bitch. I'm not saying this place didn't have potential to be the best Mexican food in Philly. 50 other Mexican food joints could all burn down in the same night. Stranger things have happened. The food was decent. The best? Not even close. Remember the good old days of the neon sign? When people couldn't just write whatever they wanted and state it as fact? Where a sign stating: Home of the World's best coffee meant you had a pretty decent shot of ordering a decent cup of coffee, and getting it. These clowns today just write whatever they want in neon, it's lost it's credibility altogether. If you can't beat them, join them. I'm getting a neon sign tomorrow to wear around my neck that says: Home of the World's largest penis. That'll show em. SIGNS SIGNS, EVERYWHERE THERE'S SIGNS There's a diner in Philadelphia with a big-ass sign out in front that reads: The Broad St. Diner (and then slightly underneath) A place for Ribs. Not "THE" place for ribs, or "A GREAT PLACE" for ribs, just a place for ribs. Don't find many places like that around. Where else could someone in a city of millions hope to come across a place for ribs? Try any Chinese restaurant, most steak houses, or even the dumpster behind Chili's. I'm sure you could find some in any of those places. When the Broad St. Diner assembled their topnotch team of advertising executives to put this master piece out in front of their establishment, you think someone would have bothered to stop and consider what it was they were placing on their signage. So folks, should you ever find yourself in the city of brotherly love and have a less than overwhelming urge for some baby-backs, I know a place. THANKS FOR READING ANOTHER INSTALLMENT! 'Nuff said.

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