Fongstarr™ | Blog

Bidding adu to twenty-six, let us (my readers…which is like a couple of you folk so you get to read drunken writing at it’s finest today) recap my thoughts and reflections on the past year leading to today’s awe inspiring day of being twenty fucking seven or what I like to call at my time, “one old ass knee-grow”. It sucked dick! Bullet points include reckless drinking (which I am sure my Herc-Town folks would say is false as fuck….shout out to Dickless Soda where ever you are kid!), a DUI charge (passed one but failed the other…what you going to do), my best friend Snoop dying, kissing concrete walls with my face and one more thing that is more or less the spark of it all but I won’t give it the light it deserves anymore. Divulging further, I realize I might be entering in a state of coochie-ism…meaning I am bitching like a 15 year old girl about not getting finger banged by the high school quarterback before we got out of the limo for prom, but spare me the (how my roommate would say) “it is what it is” speech. This shit wasn’t supposed to happen this way. Though it may seem that I wasn’t quite as happy as I should have been, I WAS! I was very content with my life whether it was leading to the typical life that I so hated, exampled but the older pieces of shit that I saw lurking the streets holding there bastard children while talking to their mistresses on the other line while the (as the young hearted would say) wifey is shopping for her new getup at Mervyns cause she can no longer afford the Gucci fits that she once had when she was single and not fat slob with a triple chin. I in some ridiculous way wanted the typical life cause I wanted it with that one person at the time. But it didn’t happen. For whatever the forces that maybe, it didn’t happen. Upon Turning twenty-six last year, I had entered a fork in the road and had to make decisions that I did not want to make at the time. Honestly I have no idea what I am doing nor do I have any ambitions in life anything constructive. After some of the bumps in the road, I have been concentrating so much on just being happy. Enjoying life and doing whatever it is that feels good at the time and being a selfish bastard for once. Preaching this to my ex for so many years, I never followed this rule and lived by example….”the only person that looks out for you is you”. Family, friends, coworkers, wives, husbands can all be bullshit with the blink of an eye. So I’ve been living spiritualess….just a phantom floating in smogged filled air a poopy smells. I am now twenty-seven and am sitting in my SF apartment drinking what’s left of my glass of Crown Royal and ice that my roommate (thanks Michelle!….you fucking crackhead) has surprised me with. It’s time to spit some sweet poetry. What is in a name? What is in life? I don’t know….I just hope I can get to New York.

Thanks to my Pops for taking me out to House of Prime Rib for the birf-day. I haven’t been here since like Valentine’s Day many years back and shout out to all those that sent me text, e-mails, and calls. It is seriously much appreciated and I does not get overlooked.