Hungover: The Potion in The Pit

The potionsHe wanted to be a hero, but he lacked a special potion.

Luckily, there was a potion in the pit and a potion on the hill.

The pit seemed easier, so he tied one end of the rope to a tree stump and the other end of the rope to his ankle and lowered himself down into the pit.

Unluckily, the further he descended, the lower the potion in the pit would sink. It was always just out of reach.

Luckily, he realized he would never truly grasp the potion in the pit and began to make the now even longer ascent up the hill.


The Buddha & The Hustler

The Buddha Hustler Line

We’re all born buddhas, not hustlers.

We have a beginners mind. Open and receptive to all things. No judgement, just pure wonder.

However, the hustler begins to grow quickly once we learn we must ‘hustle’ to get what we want. The boob, the toys, the friends, the boobs, the grades, the job, the money. **Ding** The Money — that’s what drives the hustler, and that’s not a bad thing.

The buddha is beautiful, but he’s left behind in the real world. Tip too far toward the buddha (like I did – living free out of a van playing music) and you’ll lose your place.

Tip too far toward the hustler (like I am – grinding hard at a startup that’s grown 600% in the last year) and you’ll lose your soul.

You can remove yourself from the world and go live in a monastery or dive right in and win at all costs as the Wolf of Wall Street, but me, I’m striving to find balance.

To be joyous, relaxed, and content while also fighting the necessary battle to get ahead in the modern world.  I’m trying to grow into my higher self. To sit at the pinnacle between the two points. Between The Buddha and The Hustler.

The Hustlin Buddha Triangle

Funny Papers

Waiving Cats

Ext. Dawn. A Funny Papers quietly hits the front door.

Title Screen: Funny Papers

Int. Sunrise. Like every morning, the computer calls – wake up! wake up!

Our protagonist stumbles over and shuts off the alarm. The computer immediately switches over to an inbox of 193 unread, URGENT emails. Coffee slides into her hand.

As she sits down to answer them, a gust of wind pushes open the front door – revealing the flapping Funny Papers. Comics blowing in the breeze, characters shining in the sun.


(calling out from the flapping page of the funny paper)

Hey! What’s you always staring at that screen for?


Yeah! Is you tied to that chair or something? How comes you never come out here and play no more?

The pages flip through – every page in the bundle is a comic, no normal news articles – they all call out as their page blows by.


Yeah, come out and play, come out and play, come out and play…

Just beyond the Funny Papers, a child sits, drawing with chalk on the ground.  To her delight, her scribbles come alive one by one and dance about her.

Our protagonist wants to join and begins to meekly shut her computer. A buzzer sounds. The screen flashes red. Urgent! Urgent!

She flips it back open. Ready to work. But wait. NO! They can’t bully her to stay behind her computer. She resolutely decides to shut down her computer. She makes an exaggerated gesture to shut it down and.., Wow, what’s this.

A flashing green email. Congratulations! She got a promotion. More money. Money! Money! Money!

We dance through the dreams of her adult head. Cocktail parties, fancy dresses,  diamond rings, nice cars, respect! Her name in the paper. The paper! The Paper! The paper…. it’s all so boring and grey. No comics anywhere.

She’s suddenly trapped in a cell. Surrounded by meaningless numbers, divided by decimal points.  The headline reads, “This Is All Make Believe” Sub-headline, “And Everyone’s Buying It!”

Int. Sunrise. Wake up! Wake Up! Calls the computer. Our protagonist opens her eyes and stumbles over to the computer, turning off the alarm. Coffee slides into her hand. Her computer reads 27 emails. Not bad… until more begin to ping in faster and faster.  Heart sinking…

There’s a thump at the door. She looks over and feels hope. She looks back to her computer. 42 emails and counting… She takes a deep breath and shuts the screen. As she folds the computer in on itself a final explosion of noise and doubt rings out, buzzers flash, promotions fly in.

Closed! Silence.

Our protagonist looks around and slowly walks to the door and opens it. A newspaper sits, bundled up on the stoop.

She bends down, and picks it up. She glances at a few repulsive headlines, passing them quickly to find the Funny Papers. She discards the rest of the newspaper and steps outside. The door shuts and our protagonist walks away into the morning sunlight, giggling at the Funny Papers.


Paw & Patsy Pt. 1B

Polar bears and submarines


PT. 1B

Int. French submarine. AXEL zits next to a bottle of vodka, vhittling a ztick, zinging, “In a cannnnnn, below the iizzzeeeee, thizz is howwwww I zpend myyy lifffeeee. And, Vwow! Vwhat a life of…”


Axel look!


Vwhat is it?


Don’t azk and lizen. Obey and look. Look! Look! Look!


OK, OK, Oh vwow!

(looking through the periscope)

Should vwe kill zem and eat zem.


Kill zem and eat zem!? Are jou mad? Zees are endangered Polar Bearz! How can jou even imagine…

Oh dear, one of zem is biting our periscope.

Axel is already at ze helm, raising zem up to ze surface.


Zis should zcare zem off! Oh vwow!


Zey are beautiful…

Ze two men now stare eye to eye wiz 2 polar bears. Ze larger polar bear lets out a zurprised growl.


Click Here To Read PT. 1

How to Put Guests at Ease

boobsWhen you’re trying too hard to make other people feel comfortable, they feel uncomfortable.

Instead of stressing about making them feel comfortable, you just have to feel comfortable yourself and then, given relatively normal circumstances, they will ease into your comfort bubble.

Just a thought as I’m talking to me as she breast feeds her baby.

I hope I’m not trying too hard to make her feel comfortable.

Paw & Patsy

Polar bears and submarines

Part 1A:

Ext. A majestic arctic ice shelf. A male and female polar bear (bi-polar bears) walk side by side through the lightly falling snow.

We move in closer to see that the larger, male polar bear, Paw, is not happy. Making the entire mood bad.


It was not that far. We easily could have made the swim, ate a few seals and been back to our ice shelf by tomorrow.


Would you just drop it Paw? I didn’t want to spend another night out. That should be enough.


Enough? Enough of what!? I’m starving. Woo.. what’s this?

The two polar bears have spotted something and abruptly change gears. The entire mood is now happy.


It looks beautiful.

Paw, disgusted but happy, is spitting out what little bit of the frozen material he could bite off.

PAW (delightedly)

It tastes.. well.. terrible!



Suddenly whatever it is they found seems to come alive. The entire ice is rising around them. They scamper backward and see…

PAW (Confused)

Wait.. that did not taste like a whale…

Our two arctic beasts have stumbled upon a submarine and now stand eye to eye with two soldiers peering through the windows.

Read Pt. 1B Here


Death of a Pirate

Pirate Ship Writing

I’m writing this from a pirate ship, but I’m not a pirate nor do I know how to write.

Wait, what? I’m writing right now, and, Ah!, what’s this eyepatch!? What type of whacky world is this?

“So ye don’t think ye’s a pirate do ya?” Squawks a pirate parrot somewhere off in my blindspot, “Then why’s ye wearing that eye patch?”

The pirate parrot has a point, and I guess he can read too because I’m only writing this, not speaking it out loud, and yet he still called me out.

I turn to reveal him from the darkness of my missing eye. Wait, am I really missing an eye or is my perfectly healthy eye just covered? It’s time to uncover my eye cover and see if I can see.

I’m going to do it in 3… 2…

“Wait, let me help you with that darling,” says a beautiful belly dancer in a jingly gold dress.

This is great. Now that she’s coming over to take off my eyepatch, my hands are free to continue writing out these events as they happen.

She’s walking over and…

“Stop right there!” Says my 6th grade English teacher to the beautiful belly dancer in the jingly gold dress.

Mr. Marchado is now turning toward me, “Why’d you start this story saying you didn’t know how to write?”

“I don’t know,”  I write in response.  (Hey, Mr. Marchado, quick question. Should I have put ‘I don’t know’ in quotation marks? Technically a character was responding, but it was me, the narrator, who was writing a response as opposed to speaking it.)

Mr. Marchado isn’t looking at my paper anymore so I guess I’ll never know the answer to the “I don’t know” quotation dilemma.

Instead, Mr. Marchado is looking at Kooky Old Purple Beard who just burst through the door and is coming straight toward me sneering,

“Why do ye care if ye can write when ye could be a pirate and plunder all the riches in the South Sea?”

“Oh well, it’s because” Before I can finish writing him my response Kooky Old Purple Beard snarls, “I can’t read!”

I’ll tell him out loud…

“That’s a great answer,” replies Kooky Old Purple Beard, “but is it good enough to keep ye away from wanting this?” The pirate holds up the most precious plastic purple pollywog I’ve ever seen.

“Oh my!” Swoons the beautiful belly dancer in the jingly gold dress. “What a precious plastic purple pollywog!”

The belly dancer seems to be in a trance. But I don’t blame her. I might go touch the pollywog. It looks pretty awesome.

“Don’t touch the pollywog!” Cries Mr. Marchado.

“Hey Mr. Marchado! Are you looking at my paper again?” <—(If so, should that be in quotations?)

“Yes, I’m looking down at your paper, and I don’t know if that should be in quotations! However, I do know that you should not touch or even look at the precious plastic purple pollywog. See, if you fixate on the pollywog it takes all of your youth so that it can remain a pollywog and, in turn, you turn into a frog.”

“I’m going to go touch the pollywog.” (and stick with the quotations)

—— 20 seconds pass ——

Woahhh. That was terrible and crazy. Let me give you a recap of the last 20 seconds because I was away from my paper and couldn’t write it down.

Basically, after I said I was going to go touch the precious plastic purple pollywog I stood up and got super sucked into a pollywog pirate trance (hence I wasn’t writing.)

Mr. Marchado dove forward to rescue me, knocking the precious plastic purple pollywog overboard, but not before Kooky Old Purple Beard stabbed Mr. Marchado with his sword and then dove overboard to chase the precious plastic purple pollywog.

Naturally, I’m very upset right now, but I must carry on. See, right before Mr. Marchado slipped his dying body overboard into the sea he called out, “Never stop writing!”

So to report on some good news, it seems the beautiful belly dancer in the jingly gold dress is coming out of her trance and doesn’t seem to remember anything that has taken place in the last couple minutes, including the murder.

Also, the parrot from the beginning of the story who provoked all of this is now sleeping peacefully with his head tucked beneath his feathers. I guess belly dancers, and pirates and magical pollywogs, and even murder wasn’t exciting enough for him.

“So where were we?” Says the beautiful belly dancer in the jingly gold dress, “Ah yes, let’s remove that eyepatch of yours and prove that you’re no pirate.”

The beautiful belly dancer in the jingly gold dress is standing right behind me.

“Aww you think I’m beautiful?” She asks.

Embarrassing. She can read… and is beautiful.

“Indeed. Let’s take that eye patch off in 3… 2… 1…”

Peripheral vision! Eye! Eye! I’m not a pirate at all. This is great news.  From now on, I’ll have two eyes open to watch the whacky ways of this world, and I’ll write it all down in honor of Mr. Marchado!

“Sounds like a plan, but for now why don’t you take a break?” asks the even-more-beautiful-now-that-I-can-see-her-with-both-eyes belly dancer in the jingly gold dress.

“It will be tough to write with both your arms wrapped around me,” She says.

Ok gotta put down the pencil now. See you all tomorrow!

Daily Blog #11

Posting From BedA daily practice is important, but it’s best to do it first thing. That way it starts your day off with a win — with an energy boost.

If you put it off, your daily practice becomes another daily “to-do.” To-do’s are an energy drain that you have to squeeze in before you can end your day.

Do something every day for a week. Be sure to complete it early. The benefits of the daily practice will push you through those days when it feels more like a daily “to do.”