The Foxy Brown

Talk about the crab cakes Mike. How good are they?

Really good. Lightly browned. Mustard seeds in the sauce. Sauteed spinach & garlic.

If you like coffee I recommend the nitro cold brew. It’s only $15 and its really coffeey. Try saying coffeey ten times fast.

It’s actually not that hard, did it on my first try.

The coffee isn’t really $15 a glass, I think it’s around $5 which is still expensive for a drink I can make for free at work or at home. Soooooooooooooooooo…but you do pay for the show. Pouring in cream and watching it swirl in the frosted glass is just shy of magical.

I like to have discovery calls there. You know. Take out prospects to lunch and give em the pitch. The ole 1-2. The brochure. It’s better food than the Tower Club but nothing can match the TC’s view. Just wow. Just frickin wow.


Hurricane BTW

So many sauces to choose from. Three tiers, split up by no reason other than the label maker.

It’s right across the street from a Ferrari Dealership. One time I test drove a Porsche GT3RS and they didn’t even scan my license! I walked in in flip flops, finishing a beer, and asked to take the Porsche out on a test drive. “What do I have to say to drive that GT3RS?” That was all it took to get into 3rd gear going 80 on US-1.

That Ferrari dealership is pretty cool. They televise big races and had a bbq a few months back. I got a video somewhere. Not to mention the car shows and that being said there are better car shows in the county. Their parking lots are bigger, doy.

Hurricane BTW has this ridiculous policy that you get three free chicken tenders if you fill out a survey on the receipt. I, no joke, got dozens of free tenders. It only took one time though for me to stop…why am I so weak?

My last meal there was a basket of fries drowning in a saucy medley. Boy did my stomach hurt the next day. I overdid it on the sauces looking back. But shame on me for making such poor dietary decisions. Don’t turn to this blog for that. It’s not what you came here for. These are my true stories about the businesses in my community. Which is Broward and Palm Beach. I don’t venture into Miami Dade, I’m not that brave. And when I have they have been some pleasant experiences like riding on the Tri-Rail to the Venetian Pool with Jenny and the boys.


Here We Grow Again

Plant puns here we come.

Sowing roots in Fort Lauderdale is killer. Fortune 500 salary but salads for me. Eating healthy, living lively, and acting childly is stupid.

What was I saying, oh yes! 14 days green at Insperity. A $3B company that holds heavyweight titles like coolest employee, Michael A. Buonaiuto.

Insperity + Superlatives = Insuperlatives … an insuperlative is an Insperity term for an internal acknowledgement of an employee, an award, incentive, or recognition of a talented individual’s accomplishments are awarded. 

Here’s where I work.

One Financial Plaza
First Baptist puts on incredible Christmas pageants. Just a stones throw from my office. I wonder if I can watch it from my window, in August.


And here are my neighbors.


Business lesson by Andy. Salesmen go through shoes almost monthly. You have to grind it out, pound on the pavement, cut your teeth.

I took Andy out to lunch as I had taken others out to lunch. But Andy seemed to know more about what I do than I do. At least, he has so much experience in sales. He is a equity partner at Kaufman Rossin, so yeah, he’s the hob and I’m nobin’ him.*

The importance of appearance.

Walk into a room. What is more important, for people to see you or hear you? I concur that sight over all other physical senses, is best. As a vain vindictive villain to my own wellbeing, I’ve voraciously hurt myself in doing so. Both emotionally, physically, and as I worry, spiritually. A spiritual wound is not so easily healed. OR IS IT?! (Point to the sky)

More money than a Sicilian villain. Moxie. Amoxicillin toxins.

“Wear a collared shirt, slacks, and tie. A man only needs a belt is his pants are improperly fitted.” -Not Verbatim Quote from Sean

BeFunky CollageI’ve worn ties many times. I enjoy wearing nice clothes and don’t mind a tie all night. Get me sweating and that’s another story. Cause if this cats ganna dance, y’all better watch out this purr is roaring. Yeah, I know that made no sense but this is the interwebs where there are no rules. Except everything is permanent and privacy is fictional. This is my SSN 245-12-3592 go wild. Do your worst. I’m talking credit cards stacked so high the fan won’t spin. Debt so deep it makes the Mariana Trench look like Mariana (my friend who is really pretty and not an underwater crevice home to the abyss.) (I also can’t stand grammar mistakes so if you see any please let me know.)

Using red cups as landmines, our team had to guide us safely through the mindfield. I knocked four cups over, thank you very much. Tim knocked one. And even the woman with planters fasciitis knocked over a cup.

I’ve also been attending many happy hours. Insperity is cool. They incentivize to develop and foster relationships in the community and with business owners. When that sinks in and my mission is clear, I get goosebumps.

Some meals I masticated.

*Hobnob from hobnobben meaning the haves and the have nots. The lucky plebeian rubbed elbows with royalty and hobnobbed at the swanky soiree.

First Fortnight at Insperity

Networked through a business MeetUp group at Public House. Decently cool, met a dozen interesting business professionals. Then went to my first ToastMasters afterwards and I immediately was enthralled. I HATE poor public speakers but everyone in the group tried their hardest to be persuasive, clear, and eloquent.

I joined the TowerClub in my building which grants me access to 1/2 off meals, waived fee for using boardrooms, preferred access to golf courses and other country clubs across the country.

Basically, I will be in training for the next 7 weeks. Fly out to Houston, learn the services inside and out. I’ve begun booking appointments at the TowerClub and Foxy Brown. I’d love to get in front of Eliot Wolf, the owner of the Be Nice restaurant group.

There are a lot of projects on the horizon, I want to pivot towards video marketing. And I’ve broken it up into three campaigns. 1) What’s your drive? 2) Limelight 3) Insperity: Putting the PEO Back in People … I’ll flesh these out as the weeks progress.

Very excited about the upcoming networking events, developing relationships with various business owners from across South Florida. I’ve actually been practicing handing out my business cards in the mirror.

First Toast Master’s Group. Meets every Wednesday from 7 – 830 at Broward County Convention Center.
Biz to Biz networking at Public House. Great events can be found nightly on MeetUp
Here’s a hidden gem. The Fort Lauderdale library. 8 floors of absolute goodness. A shame it is flooded by the homeless in the courtyard, my heart goes out for them.
A gem within a gem. A gallery of local artists, such beauty!
Big cajones!
Communication development game. My team communicated the path to take through the maze of red solo cups. I knocked four over.
Foxy Brown’s crab cake BLT! So good. With chili sauteed green beans.
Big shout out to Toro Cold Brew and Pipeline. Without them, I wouldn’t be as productive as I am.
Day 1 happy hour. I was told salesmen like to celebrate but within the first five minutes they discussed where they wanted to have drinks. Morton’s Steakhouse.
Old fashion. Whiskey. Bitters. Sugar. Orange peel. Ice.
Slamming salmon at Royal Pig.
Day 1 at work. 28 floors up in the Tower Club. Carpe diem.

Kick Your Own Ass!

I got this idea from

Little Red Book of Selling: 12.5 Principles of Sales Greatness

If your not a self-starter, disciplined, motivated, then download some Tony Robins talks and listen up! Work hard. Harder than your coworkers. So hard your manager asks you, “WTF?!”, you’ll work so hard the co. president calls you. No one is going to do it for you, in fact, no one cares about you being successful. You have to. Your success will boil down to you and you alone.

I’ll help you get there, but I’m a really nice guy. Don’t dilly-dally, don’t go out to happy hour at City Oyster if you spend all day thumbing through /r/aww subreddit. You’re hurting your situation. Don’t watch t.v. when you should be reading sales books. Stay motivated. Be positive. Attitude + effort. Burn the candle at both ends. Wake up early before your competition and sleep when you’re exhausted not when you’re bored.

Hit your quota in the 2nd week of the month, knock that quota out of the park. Kick it in the teeth. Quotas are phantoms, arbitrary numbers managers make because they can’t make it themselves.

Hurricane BTW

So far as I know there is only the one. I looked at their website and only saw one location. Shame really. Because if they were everywhere, global hunger would be solved. Seriously, they give away free food all the time.

On their receipt, you fill out their two-minute survey and they will serve you THREE FREE CHICKEN TENDERS. No purchase necessary. That is a $4.50 value for walking through the door. I’ve taken advantage of this deal about a dozen times so far. I get the tenders grilled rather than the default fried and try to try new sauces every time.

I’m going to review the sauces next but for now, here is a review on the establishment and those that work there.

It is a great launchpad for a meal and show. Across the street is a Ferrari dealership which is really a museum w/o an entrance fee. I’ll get back to Hurricane BTW b/c I share the glory that is a supercar. Ever drive a 600-hp supercar? You can. Walk in, ask, “What do I have to do to drive that car today?” And then go through the motions until you’re in the driver seat with the key in hand. Speak only with Scott Marks. I told the front desk attendant that I’d like to speak with a sales associate and Scott first walked right passed me. I put my beer down and shook his hand, literally. He asked how he could help, I said, “That Porsche GT3RS outside. I want to drive it.” My balls were bulging out of my LoudMouth golf shorts. And in five minutes, I sternly pressed my way into the driver seat. I floored it on Federal Hwy and got it up to 75 at the top of second gear. Dreams do come true.

Back to chicken that literally changed my life. Because of Hurricane BTW, I can now have protein nightly, without paying for it. Such a blessing America is! God is good all the time.

The sauce bar has been disheveled half the time I’ve been there. I don’t know if the sauces should be kept cold but some are and some are not, slightly troubling…I asked if their chicken was organic, and the best response besides ‘I don’t know’ was, “Man, it’s just chicken.” Thanks, didn’t know that buddy. Buddy with the hair net under his beard like a hair hammock. Boom.

There is a lot of room in the back and really big flat screens. Seems cool but I never see it very busy which leads me to think, they’re just not doing a great job marketing their business. Recently a FSI about an app you can download for a free item appeared. Stealz. Is it a bad or good sign when an app appears? Especially when the app isn’t too popular. So I downloaded it, took a photo with my phone, and got a free side of fries.


Poultrygeist – a foul ghost that haunts you and ruffles your feathers

Don’t know where to start. Been wanting to write for a day and scratch the itch.

I write the best when I’m washing dishes and showering. But it’s difficult to type while wet. And a waterproof notebook hasn’t been purchased yet.

Geez. Us. Jesus. A bunch of Christians congregate at a it place. Fleshly desires.

We went to see Wonder Woman it wasn’t great. In fact, it was awful. Stupid. Predictable. Each CGI shot of someone jumping in the air was clunky and … holy ship, just don’t see the movie!

Walked out on the second morning from Darren Wiseman’s and missed the mist. The vantage from the barnyard door was mystical. Overlooking a sea of crops until the land seemingly dropped off and mountains lay in the distance. They appeared painted by Bob Ross himself, set against a sorbet menagerie sky.

Finally reheated the food from last weekend when I celebrated by grandpa’s birthday. Fish, steak, and mac & cheese in the over on broil I realized while eating that a sour part was in my mouth. I knew it would cause me indigestion but I swallowed it anyway. Though, after that, I spit out two masticated clumps of food. Knowing for sure that swallowing them would only cause me pain. A diet bulb popped up in my stomach and from this afternoon I decided to curb my appetite. Much less grains, expect lentils and ancient grains, and more protein and veggie diet. No dairy, no beer. A shot of alcohol a day. Why more? Why poison myself. I know the damage done by fleshly desires. LOL … I created a new acronym I’d like to circulate. MML. Meaning, “Made myself laugh”. It’s when the saying isn’t funny enough to make others chuckle but you laugh to yourself. I like it better than LTM ( laughing to myself ) because it lacks the onomatopoeia of mml.

So we celebrated Brittney’s birthday. Hooray. Sarcasm. There a Asian buffet we met up at. Miyaki. All-You-Can-Shit is the business model. Pay one giant fuqing fee of $26.16 and get all the warm, wet fish you can muster to eat. There are stations of course. It’s not just nasty raw fish. There’s nasty knock-off Chinese food. And of course, ice cream from years past. Real relic flavors. Red bean paste and pistachio.  I don’t get why…my friends act retarded. “Mike, do we just walk up and grab food?” “Is it only buffet or is there a menu?” “What’s good here?” Look, I’ve never been here before, I assume it’s like every other buffet you’ve ever been to, so grab a plate like everyone else and fill it up with brightly colored disappointed bland grub. Haven’t you ever been to a buffet? I feel like I’m in a Twilight Zone of awkwardness. Why do I spot social ineptitude? It’s a gift and a curse. Always expecting, always disappointed, not always, but frequently.

Big Ben pulled me aside, out of the sushi line, away from calories. I looked at him with the glare of a dog whose meal was just taken away from him. This better be good or I’m going to growl. OK, that previous part is a lie but I wanted to write it and as your honest author I MUST get my ideas out. “You want to hear the most awkward thing? You know that feeling when you see Brittney and Bennet hold hands, HARD!” He looks at me, waiting for a shocked response. I thought, let them hold hands, who cares besides you three? I don’t even think it crossed god’s mind. I told him, “Yea, that is awkward.” He continued with his emotional short rant while filling his plate with sauces and wasabi.

They sat and talked. Each with a motive. To avoid. To engage. To probe. To instigate. To mingle was mine. Rattle a cage, incite and entice the insight of the 20s/30s group. Mike, what do you think makes a good friendship? I gave my answer. There is a amount of loyalty and reliability and accountability that makes up a friendship. Goes through some trying time and makes it out the other side closer with more mutual understanding. I sat between Ben and Bennett. Buff Bennett biceps twitched. He sat there, with his arms on the table, staring at his arm, I put my fingers underneath his bicep and pushed it upward making it bulge and giving it voice, “Flex me Bennett! I want to lift!”. Personifying Bennett’s bicep broke Big Ben and he started to laugh into his hands. Ben Burge told Big Ben, ,”If you’re choking you can use your own chair for the heimlich maneuver.” “I’m not choking, I’m laughing.” Ben responded to Ben with his head still in his hands. Holding his fork, eating his sushi, see anything wrong with this? I do. We’re paying for shitty overproduced food.

The restaurant closed at 10:30 and we we’re still sitting there when 11 rolled around. The cleaning crew had bussed all the tables but ours and as they walked by, they glared, not saying to please leave but definitely trying to drop the hint we were no longer wanted. A group of 7 Asian women stood on the other side of the register and stared us, quietly gossiping.

Just imagine being homeless.

Take a shot of sake.

I got up and walked outside, then performed the classic stair routine on the other side of a window to amuse my friends. I poked my head out and acting like I was going up and down stairs, using a canoe, and fighting the urge to keep going. This should be a bit. How to make the simplest thing of a blocked window to amuse and entertain with simple street tricks. Parlor tricks v. street tricks

Kaitlyn had people over her house, it was so fun. Like I got to sleep with a warm body that night and I remembered the dry humping session multiple times the next day. I ran home first to grab some Moonshine and toke up. I question if I should post these sorts of articles. It is my journal. It is my heart’s deluge. Why not, right? I’ll find out why not when I cross that footbridge.

“Is it tit for tat or tip for tap?” I knew the answer but sadly, she didn’t.

Your body is a wonderland. Go for a ride, have a good time.

Back to Kaitlyn’s house. We take shots of moonshine, it’s called White Lightning and boy does it shock you. Nasty stuff. She collects shot glasses, like most UF grads. Her favorite color is teal and it shows in her decoration and preferences.

We walk to the beach together and stop to pick up beers. I lagged behind, grabbing a water from F1 Burger. The couple in front of me was soooooo slow. As if they had never been in a restaurant. Come on guys, it’s 12:30 am. Move along. If you don’t know what you want I’ll break your other arm.

Tonight was the first night I gook lots of video and purposefully started vlogging. It is an interesting proposition that making short documentaries of my life can result in fame, notoriety, sculpting my communication skills. Anyway, back to my shitty story of making out with two girls. We get to the beach and my friends walk North but I see lights and commotion South, so I walk that way. Two white boys reeled in a massive nurse shark. They were in the process of removing the hook from her mouth and posing with it. Brittney had her guitar and began to play worship songs while we passed around Funky Buddha brew. The moon lightly lit the beach. The ambient glow from the pier illuminated the cerulean water that rolled over it’s concrete pylons. Washing over barnacles and tiny crabs and crashing on the sand. I sat on the towels and took some deep breaths.

I find it strange that the church group is so, well, churchy. They pray openly and ask what you want prayer for and say what they were delivered from and act like they are constantly getting epiphanies from above but don’t seem to be any different than me. Seeking, wanting.

Jackie Fortier was heading over and Big Ben told me to rendezvous with her and walk back to the beach. I called her and we related locations until we were face-to-face. She instantly became emotional, put her head on my shoulder and lightly sobbed. She said she was scared and frightened and frustrated and that she had been driving around lost. Strange, this isn’t like the Jackie I know. I asked where she came from, she said she just had a date. That’s good that I’m not the only guy in her life. Because I can’t be committed to one girl and I wouldn’t want to be. She stumbled a little and took a bit longer to put her sentence together, I think she is tipsy, why did she drive? We walk back to the beach and she stops me at the cafe and kisses me. I love it, she grabs me, pulls me in and gets some. “Where’s the group?” she asks me, inches away from my lips. I turn and point to the group right behind us. She puts her face in her hands, “oh my god.” Yeah, I thought she was just marking her territory but she didn’t realize they were all right there. So close, yet I don’t think they looked up and saw us.

Jackie and I walked the beach, she ran and I sprinted past her. Flipped on Frank Sinatra, That’s Life, and put it in my hoodie. I rolled a joint when we got back to the blanket, waited for half the group to leave.

Don’t talk about other people’s drama, it only attracts sloppy slander….

We get back to Kaitlyn’s house, I find a smutty love novel and begin reading aloud. The rest of the night I break into the voice I read the novel with and fantastically told stories of love making and pretending my friends were the horny characters from the love novel, “Apache Warrior”.

I quickly imagine all the work i have to do and pretend it’ll never come to pass. I also can plan out and strategize every facet of this fucking job, get my job done, to the gills! And get a killer job somewhere else! Writing jokes.

Jackie and Jackie leave Kaitlyn and I alone, and I’ll leave it at that.

Up at 8:30. Jelly and cream cheese on a wheat bagel, tart strawberries, and a K-cup. I’m ready world, throw me a few shots, I’ll parry. Tonight I go to support my friend Catherine Transleau at her on stage improv fundraiser performance. The Golden Goodies is the name of her theater troupe. I’ve never heard of the SOL Theater but hey, I don’t know every nook and cranny. So Kaitlyn and I go, the material is sloppy and dead air fills the gaps between poorly timed lines. I take my face and bury it in the nape of neck, slipping a kissing in before and after. The woman behind me spills red wine on my colorful hoodie. She wears turquoise jewelry and bones and shells. The best joke all night is as follows.

The game is called, Schwarzenegger, and the players need to say a line that Arnold would right before killing someone. The topic is bowtie. The player kicks in the door, pumps the shotgun, says, “You’ll live!”, pulls the trigger and says, “knot!” The audience roars with laughter. She herself giggles and laughs into the crux of her arm. Speaking of arms, what an awkward incident when looking for a volunteer. The player pulls a “volunteer” from the audience to help out with another game. But the volunteer has a birth defect and never developed his left arm. There was a nub and a pinky at the end of it with muscular dystrophy leading up to his shoulder. He was instructed to move the players because they couldn’t move themselves. How awkward I thought. Make someone with a physical deformity touch people…on stage. Yikes. Their acting was worse though. My old work colleague was in the cast. Red headed Randy. He was quite good actually, responsive, engaging, good overall. My date Kaitlyn told me in the intermission she saw him kissing the deformed man, they’re together?! He’s gay?!

My high school friend Catherine is killing it. The funniest one on the stage, she ended her show in a sparkly gold onesie and shrimped around the floor. Her friends showed up and they appeared to be tripping, that’s all I can say. They all appeared mentally distant, giggled a lot to each other, and shouted jiu-jitsu every time the players called out for a suggestion.

Speaking of disfigured left arms, the android in the movie I watched with Andy today had his left arm burned off with alien acidic sanguine excretion. Why in Alien Covenant with the Walter/David character on the ship that dropped the bomb on people? Was it one of them or a previous generation? I don’t get it. Someone please explain it to me. Back to my night.

Afterwards, Kaitlyn and I go watch MMA fights with the jew crew. They have a house full of their jui-jitsu friends. Lot’s of alcohol and terribly cooked food. Chaim thinks he can cook, he hasn’t proved it to me yet.

Before that, we grabbed a California roll at Geisha. You can completely judge a sushi restaurant on their California roll, it is the industry standard. Kaitlyn bought white sake and I had some.

Good fights at the jews. The Aldo v Halloway fight was the main card. Finished in the second round with Halloway punching away the Aldo’s head. The ref let it go for thirty seconds more than he had to. They fought in Rio, Aldo’s hometown, and I suppose the ref didn’t want a mob of angry Brazilians charging the ring. I’ve watched enough prison torture videos to know that Brazilians exemplify brutal carnage and show no mercy when they want to destroy their opponent.

Something that Lauren said stands out to me. “I’m not someone to play the field.”

At least you’re acknowledging that some are like that, and you know what, they have the liberty to be that way. I like to play the field, I really like to just kiss pretty girls and get some pee pee touches. It’s my hormonal dream to connect with a bunch of groups and have steady girlfriends. The cool guys in Hollywood do it. They also have sports cars and bachelor pads. So yeah, either Hollywood has it right and I want to fit their mold or this is the way of the world and I’m living in the sinful desires of my flesh.


Big Ben, Burge, Jackie V. & Joel swung by. Threw back a few fireball shots, played miniature table tennis, challenged me and lost to a round of chess, and of course colored. I showed off my new didgeridoo and they pointed out I used toxic wax to coat the mouth opening. Yikes. Your humble writer is accidentally poisoning himself.

I made a birthday card for my grandfather with googly eyes and wrote, “I See It Is You’re Birthday”. Go easy on me, English is my first language. ( English is stupid video )

Samantha held a pool party for the 20s/30s group. I ran out to Target to pick up a speaker because what is a party without music?!?!?! Right. It’s NOT a party. So once again, in my life, I make the party. Frickin’ bring it up to level 11.

My friend Big Ben wants to be a food reviewer and I want to support him on his mission. Really because I understand what it will take and know it is a two man job if you want to do it right. Someone needs to hold the camera and I will willingly take a back seat to get a food blog off the ground.

I got to see Jackie again. She’s amazing, held together, pretty, breaks out into a Cuban character instantly that twists her torso, raises a hand in the air, lowers an eye lid, and speaks in broken Spanglish. It’s incredible to observe. My other friend Joel does a similar impression, not as well.

Helped Big Ben with his car. Called AAA for the second time. Had a beautiful encounter with the tow truck driver. I wasn’t on premises when he called, I should have told him I was on my way. When I pulled up, he called me out on it so I apologized. Then a few minutes later I apologized again and here is where the magic happened. “You don’t need to apologize twice. You already apologized and I already forgave you.” All this was done with love and I felt really good when he said it and felt even more bad for not mentioning I wasn’t on scene when he called. Jedi mind tricks.

We stopped at Funky Buddha on the way to the party. I broke a glass trying to make Big Ben laugh. Story of my life. Attempt something funny and end up shattering something. BUT HE DID LAUGH!!!


11:30 am – Awoke. Sprung out of bed.

Shot of espresso. Here’s a trick a Cuban taught me, mix light brown sugar into the water before brewing. Voila!

My barber does more than cut my hair. She brings out my true self. I sit down and start sharing. She listens and advises and trims my hair and massages my neck and puts a hot towel over my head then stretches my neck…she is one of a kind.

Made a didgeridoo from Lowes for $5. I recommend trying a few PVC dimensions out feeling your right fit. Remember, size doesn’t matter.

Did I dream about matzo ball soup last night? I feel like carrots and celery and matzo danced around me. Publix for the ingredients, CrockPot for the execution.

I invited my parents over for dinner, my father laughed at me when I mentioned we can have soup. Rude! I make them shrimp scampi and vegetable medley. The vegetables are seasoned until they’re unpalatable.

Here’s the vegetable medley recipe in case you want to poison someone:

  • Diced potato
  • Minced onion
  • Sliced beet
  • Handful of cranberries
  • Add them to heat
  • Serve

Fort Lauderdale’s art district is called Fat Village. A industrial warehouse block that displays local artists handiwork. Whether it is paint on canvas, crafts like leather bow-ties or pop culture coasters, and a slew of artisanal tchotchkes that truly rely on beauty to be in the beholder’s eye. Get it? They’re ugly. Basically glue a piece of canvas to a piece of driftwood and slap a price on it. THIS IS ART, PAY ME FOR IT!!!

Now comes the fun part, dancing.

I can’t fully explain it but I sympathize for those that enjoy going out. I feel like each must have some mundanity to feel the need to dance in a nightclub. Now if you don’t know me, know this, I dance. A lot. But not to music. Just nervously twitched and flailing and bending and snapping. But I do it constantly, throughout the day. I walk with a beat in my step and knowing that some are getting intentionally drunk to overcome the inhibition to dance is sad. Why won’t you dance with me in the street? Why do you need strobe lights and overwhelmingly loud music and expensive libations?

Queue cacophony. Calloused, childish, queasy. If you frequent Fort Lauderdale’s Riverwalk and enjoy the nightlife, I don’t understand why… Don’t you want to converse and not shout? Digression. I kissed a girl and I liked it.

I kissed her outside America’s Backyard. We actually kissed there on Cinco de Mayonnaise. ‘Twas magical.

Ran into Starr Bergeron, need to pick her brain. Would love to know what she knows about Florida and wildlife and keeping a stable stable. Starr! If you ever read this, let me buy you a RAW Juice and pick your brain. K. Thanks.

5:40 am – Writing this blog post