Yard Sales and Our FAILS...

I did not grow up in New York City. But, does that make me better than those of you who did? Yes, of course it does. It also means I've seen things a few of you haven't.For instance, have any of you ever been to a yard sale where you could buy a young pig AND a Sega Dreamcast? 


Trust me, it's a beautiful thing.

How does that saying go? "One man's trash is another man's treasure." Well, yard sales are kind of like that. Only, it would probably more like it if the saying went, "One man's trash is another man's thing he'll gladly buy if it's less than 5 bucks."

Now that's just yard SALES, there is actually something else out there even better than a yard sales. That thing, is what I like to call the "yall better grab this shit now because I'm getting rid of it" yard GIVEAWAYS. And what kind of things do you find here? Well, it can be any kind of thing. But more than likely it's things like:

Wheels and tires (who could have known spinning rims would go out of style)

Furniture (what's wrong with it? Who knows! Why should you pick it up? Possibly because you have some kind of secret bedbug fetish. Or maybe you've really been trying to upgrade your living room space. What better way to do that then introducing your place to an exciting new mystery smell!)

Puppies/Kittens (Yes, you can get a young dog or cat for free. Or, you can spend an exorbitant amount of money on a "pure bred" animal that will never be in any kind of dog/cat show - but will still habitually disrespect you and your property while you provide it with free food and shelter.)

This is just a side note, it's about to be a cold world for some of these dudes trying to grow long hair now that it's back in style. Especially when they find out it aint that easy. I mean it's plenty long-haired ladies out here that haven't quite figured this one out. Like this lady walking next to me with the, what I can only assume is, bangs glued directly unto her forehead. Definitely bout to see these "long hair don't hair" guys flipping through cosmo at your local beauty shop.

Welp... To each his own I say.

And then there's another thing thing you sometimes see left out for the scavenging masses. Books... Yea books.

*sad long exhaling sigh*

No one cares about them. A few good friends and I were out one fine autumn's eve and we happened upon a few books. Not just a few though but multiple bookcases worth of them. Standing demurely in some kind of sexy brothel line up across someone's front yard. Mind you, the time is just a little ways north or south of 8 o clock in the Post Meridian. These books have been outside ALL DAY. And nobody cared to give them a home. ALL DAY.

Why? Because people do not value knowledge. I mean, it wasn't always that way. Most of us grew up wanting to excel. Good grades? They were worthy of celebration. Spelling Bee champion? Salute! And what did we question? Everything.

So what happened?

Puberty happened. And with it also came our early tinkerings in social interaction, taboos, and mores. Our entire understanding of the world was  then turned on it's head. What do we want to do now? Fit in.  What do we celebrate? Beauty. What do we decry? Math. What do we question? Nothing.


We grew up in a world where most people were forged along the path of least resistance, and so we too began to yield at the unflinching hammer of mediocrity. Even if you didn't like it, you looked like you did and you certainly didn't do anything about it. 


Well, that's what you get, and it's more than certainly what you deserve.

Once upon a time Mike Tyson once said (yes, I'm quoting Mike Tyson, chill - I'm trying to create a sweeping motivational finale to finish this post with... Anyway... back to what I was saying.)

This Guy.

Mike Tyson once said, "Most revolutions are started by someone who read a book on revolution." Come on yall, if Mike can understand that knowledge is power, I'm more than inclined to believe the rest of us can too. 

So pick up a book you guys.

Then, read it.








P.S. If by some mythical chance Mike Tyson does read this blog I want to say that I'm a huge fan and that I meant no offense to you man. It's basically common knowledge that you're not that smart, walk it off you big baby.

For me, it was a Tuesday.

I step onto the train and surprisingly enough, there's barely anyone in the car. Surprised at the unlikely chance that I won't be fighting for elbow room the entire commute, I swiftly head to an open seat.

Then something happens, something awesome, something perfect. Something awesomely perfect.

A woman steps into the train. I spotted her from the other side of the car. She literally froze me in my tracks (Yes, literally, I definitely felt goosebumps.) A sun-kissed temptress with whose presence I simply couldn't deny myself. There was something about her that I wanted to know. Something about her I needed to know, and I needed to know it... now.

I noticed she was reading a book about the life and times of Nat Turner. How amazing is that? I just so happened to read the same book a couple years ago. Maybe we could talk about it together. I was overcome with curiosity. Like, how did she find out about the book? Where did she pick it up at? Does she read anything else from Kyle Baker? Hmm, maybe not that last one...

I know it's a stock photo, but she was too fine to pass up.

As she gracefully flipped pages, I couldn't help but notice her hair. A beautiful shade of the darkest brown, it was pulled back into an impressive puff with curls that spiraled out to the sun, shining out onto the rest of us like some kind of beautiful afrocentric corona.

I moved closer. She licks her lips, a pouty perfected blend of soft and supple, right before she turns each page. "What a neat little tick", I thought to myself. I wonder, does she read often, does she only do it on the train? She looks like she's smart, but then maybe that's just because she's holding a book right now. Well... probably.

Then suddenly, something else happens. The bell rings, the train door opens and she begins to look around. I feel her watchful gaze creeping slowly around the car. I look up and our eyes meet, and the connection is felt instantaneously.

She doesn't turn away. So, I close the gap. 


I conjure up the smoothest, coolest Et Cetera I've ever been able to manifest in my life, and break the silence. 


"Hi, I noticed your book. How long have you had it?"

She turns around flashing those beautiful pearly whites at me and unrepentently plunges a knife deep into my heart, deftly twisting it, and ripping it from my chest. She then proceeds to do some kind of river/Lion King-musical dance all over it in front of everyone on the train.  And, as the life slowly bleeds away from me onto the sticky subway floor, I somehow manage to sputter out, "Well... a-a-at least... it was a quick death." 


And then I died.

*sigh*

Only I didn't. I only wished I did. You see, I may have embellished a little on that last part of the story. But seriously, only a little. What actually happened mostly involved her looking at me and giving THEE most uninspired exhale I've ever heard in the history of my life, and exclaiming to the unlistening air around her, "I CAN'T TAKE THIS SHIIIIIIT!!!" She then put on her headphones and promptly pivoted a complete 180 degrees away from me.

See? 


If you ask me, that's basically the same story.