Tag Archives: creative writing

Waffle House responds to Roscoe’s House of Chicken and Waffle name change with a menu change

In the wake of the W and A in Waffle House being transposed in 2nd Black History Month (Africa in April), Roscoe’s House Of Chicken and Waffles didn’t waffle in their decision to shorten its name to Roscoe’s Chicken.

While the ellipsis in Roscoe’s next text bubble were flickering, Waffle House, who took the name change as batter and buffet because of their recent troubles, stole the spotlight and shined it on what they thought the reason was:

“It’s clear Roscoe’s is kicking us while we’re a pancake and pouring syrup on our wounds. If that’s how y’all wanna play, okay, well, let the games begin. We will take chicken off our menus. No more grilled chicken! The west coast ain’t got no love for waffles and country ham? The west coast ain’t got no love for waffles and country ham and Papa Joe? Y’all don’t love us? Y’all don’t love us? Well, let it be known then! We know y’all west coast! We know where 40 of our locations at! Roscoe Jenkins in the muthafucking house! You know what, more than the chicken cross the road. We taking Hi-C off the menu since y’all got the best chronic and the home of the crips. We taking ice tea off the menu since Ice-T was raised in Los Angeles. And last but not least, we taking orange juice off the muthafucking menu since O.J Simpson from San Francisco. I did it!”

Immediately following Waffle House’s confession, the flickering ellipsis in Roscoe’s text bubble became punctuation marks in sentences of enlightenment:

“The 3 of our locations that weren’t affected by our bankruptcy will be renamed Roscoe’s Chicken while the 4 that were affected will remain Roscoe’s House of Chicken and Waffles. We’re doing this because we want a fresh start. We want to get as far away from the debt and discrimination as possible, therefore, we changed our minds about not moving into the New York market. So if you’re infringing on our trademarks out there you’re no longer safe; Change your name and logo or we will sue the Z-A-N-N out you. Herb Hudson from them Harlem streets now.”

The message continues at great length but that’s the most important part of it; I don’t want to waffle.

Realizing the blunder or blender of their Twitter fingers and the boycott growing to include O-N at the end, Waffle House typed up an apology letter with only their middle fingers (they were fucked!) and offered to donate $3.2 million to the Obama-visited restaurant to help them settle their debt with Daniel Beasley and his attorneys.

While it’s not a surprise Roscoe’s accepted the offer, it was a surprise what their former employee did with his newfound wealth. Beasley became the biggest contributor of the GoFundMe for the victims of the Nashville Waffle House shooting at $200,000. Even went out his way to donate $150 to Jacinda Mitchell and $3,000 to Chikesia Clemons for their recent pain and suffering.

As of writing, Waffle House has reported pancake stacks of slips and falls in 33 locations within the past 15 hours.

Maybe it’s the sip-sip-sizzurp!

Happy 7th Blogiversary FY!!!

20 Passive Aggressive Things I Will Do When My Boss Goes On His Honeymoon

Sorry for the wait. His car still in the parking lot. He talking to someone on the phone. Text and drive! Wait … he’s backing out! Dammit, he stopped. Another car drove behind him. Okay, he’s in reverse. Dammit. Some old guy walking behind the car. He needs the aid of some sort of standing wheelchair to walk so he’s slow to move. I hope I don’t be like that when I get old. This gonna be a while.

Okay, the coast is clear. He’s … he’s … not in front of the office no more. Let me run to the door and make sure he’s out of the parking lot. Traffic is bad. Fuck! Come on, man, you had that one! What … why is he reversing? Please don’t tell me he’s coming back to the office. Ohhh he’s finding another exit. Let me follow his car out the parking lot. He can’t see me behind this pole, right? I been losing weight. He found another exit, y’all. He’s … he’s outta here.

Big Bossman  won’t be back until Monday afternoon. I have a day and a half to …

  1. I will untuck my fucking shirt! No one can look at my ass now! That’s what the tennis tail is for. No one will see my penis print either! These not fucking 1980’s basketball shorts.
  2. I will take my fucking phone off vibrate. Y’all gone hear my Lana Del Rey ringtone and my Sherwood Forest text tone today muthafucka!
  3. Wear khakis on casual Friday. I ain’t wearing no fucking jeans today! I’m breaking the rules and finishing the week with these Classic Stones baby!
  4. Make the fucking temperature warm. I be freezing! Goosebumps all over my arm and shit! I try not to complain and just wear a jacket. Y’all act like I’m the IRS and trying to audit the  books how y’all got me in this cold ass room shawty!
  5. Turn off this got-damn elevator music, Bob! We got one floor so why am I hearing this shit? I wanna hear how Bankroll Fresh ran off on the plug today.
  6. Park in front of the office. Look! I know we in a suite and we only got two parking spaces. I know these spots for the customers and the employees need to park far away from the building. I know this. But have you seen some of them??? They need the exercise.
  7. Not tell anyone “good morning,” “going to lunch,” and “bye.” Y’all ain’t gotta know where I’m at, at all times. I will come. I will go. That little chime notification that goes off every time the door opens tells you everything you need to know.
  8. Eat a full-course meal at my desk instead of a snack. Fuck them ants!
  9. Not go to the restroom just to fart. Look! I don’t know if it’s the Taco Bell, but I burnt-burnt a lot, and I’m tired of getting up. I hold that shit in too long my stomach start growling. There have been studies that said smelling farts is good for your health. I bullshit you not! I can just lie to you and say my chair was squeaking but then I gotta convince you that smell is coming from the vents. Too much trouble. And no, I won’t stop eating Taco Bell. That AM Crunchwrap steak and Naked Egg Taco bundle fye fye!
  10. Watch something NSFW on company computers. Nah, not porn. That’s for amateurs. I wanna watch videos of what people do with their hands in driverless cars. Like … have sex!
  11. Not talk in my white people voice because they can still tell I’m black. Ain’t that’s why that white lady called me the N word over and over? Why you talking shit 3,000 miles away though? Oh, yeah, okay!
  12. Leave the lights on. Big Bossman, you gone mess up our chances at being part of a skyline one day.
  13. Leave 10 minutes early. I need to beat traffic and customers who like to come in last-minute. Talking about “I just got off work.” Shit, me too!
  14. Not let a non-customer use the restroom. Look! It’s bad enough I gotta deal with y’all leaving piss, shit, and period blood on the toilet seat.
  15. Talk into my desk-fan like a child with at least one customer. Thissssss calllll mayyyyyy beeeee monitoreddddd forrrrr qualityyyyyy controlllllll.
  16. Rub on my nipples when a customer says, “Let me speak with your manager.” Can you say that one more time, just the way you said it, just a little more slowly … and softer. Yes, yes, yasssssssssss bitch!
  17. Spin around in my chair and say wheeeeee.
  18. Walk around like I own the place. Nah, fuck that! Let’s go back to number 17. I don’t wanna walk nowhere. Everywhere I go in the office I’m pulling up in my chair, rolling. That’s why they got wheels, right???
  19. Flirt with pretty customers. If you look good in-person or if you sound good over the phone I’m giving you minimum 22 compliments. I’m shooting my shot like Westbrook! 3 for 22.
  20. Not do any work the last 2 hours and blame it on Comcast.

Happy 7th Blogiversary FY!!!

PO’EM


Don’t tilt the novel, keys open the door
Not the ones with incisors and canines
Put the candle back, keys open the door
The ones with the chopsticks and the fork tines
Now that’s how you open a got damn book
Or a library, welcome to the shhh
Quite quiet ‘nough hear a pen drop you could
Wish Stephen Hawkings was able to pick … shhh
Lightskin from Memphis, I’m a Redmayne too
And I’m the third’s child – a john to black holes
That’s why it’s Michael Myers that comes to
Instead of Jason Voorhees on the stroll
Vrin vrin vrin on thin ice skate fall run fall
Not the great one I’m the only one y’all

Happy 7th Blogiversary FY!!!

Can a bih marry Juana in this joint?


420 on a foggy Friday day
Can’t see the forest for the tree i hug
Yeah it’s Friday but i’m going to bake
Mary Jane exhaled, “hey, no glove, no love
i don’t want your seeds that sticky icky”
So planted tulips on her rosy cheeks
And i snooped around in my blue Dickies
Fuck TruGreen! i like having grassy weeds
My i’s low no more capital letters
Uppercuts to uppercases wham bam
i got the munchies ultimate cheddar
Catching a red-eye flight to Amsterdam
Going back to Cali for brownie points
Can a bih marry Juana in this joint?

3 Reasons Why I Didn’t Start Playing The Lottery After My Uncle’s Winnings

I didn’t want to write this. I didn’t want to write this because I don’t want to be responsible for my uncle having 964 new cousins. But I have to write this. I have to write this to flush these annoying thoughts out of head in hopes of this shit sticking to the page. Thoughts like, “If I had that money I would buy this, I would buy that. I would do this, I would do that.” Why the hell am I counting and spending another man’s money?! I only did this probably twice in my life and the thoughts were in passing, but this time it’s been consistent ever since I was told. I know of millionaires and billionaires, but the key words are “know of.” I don’t truly know them. I never met them. I don’t know if they look like their pictures, if they’re shorter in person, if their breath stink. But this hit closer to home. A home I’ve been to countless times. A home I’ve spent the night at. A home I’ve spent holidays at. A home with a backyard I’m scared to go in because of a big ass black dog named Missy. Please, somebody tell me! What is this phenomenon called? Where something impactful (bad or good) happens to a relative and you think it happened to you too, like y’all share the same body, the same mind, the same lifestyle. It’s weird. And people, please take a harder look at your junk mail. I was cleaning up and shredding papers when I came across a check from a settlement payment. I was a Settlement Class Member in a class action lawsuit from the time I was employed at this warehouse. By the time I saw the check it was 3 weeks passed the 150 days I had to cash it. Only $13.07 but I needed that little money to go with some other little money to make some little big money, ya feel me? Sigh. Without further ado …

He deserved it.

He has a history of winning. In the mid 2000’s, he was rewarded $20,000 from a court settlement due to a job-related incident. Weeks after his recent lottery winnings of a half of million, he played again and won thousands. In the 90’s, he won over the heart of a woman who keeps my heart clogged up with lasagna and cheesecake: my aunt. Unfortunately, he also has a history of loss. In the early 2000’s, I lost my cousin, their first child together. 3 years ago, they were displaced after their apartment unit went up in flames.

I don’t believe in it.

The only time I ever used a coin, a key, a fingernail to scratch off a lottery ticket is when this car company sent me some mail that said if I get wam-wam-wam in a row I would win a truck. During this time I was naïve to marketing tactics companies use to get foot traffic in their store, so, of course, I got excited when I got wam-wam-wam in order. Know the first person I call? My favorite aunt. She took me to the dealership and I expected to leave off the lot in separate cars. The only thing I left with I didn’t come with was a sucker. No, seriously, they gave me some candy. I didn’t understand the symbolism behind that then, but as of writing, you better believe I do. Although, buying lottery tickets won’t break the bank it’s something I don’t want making my bank either. This has nothing to do with the horror stories you heard about past lotto winners. I’m an entrepreneur and I feel I have a better chance at selling a million scratch devices. Let me pitch you! What do you think of a newly designed coin used solely for scratching off the UV ink on lottery tickets? Instead of dead presidents and monuments no one really visits, how about on the front of the coin it’s a past lotto winner and on the back of the coin it’s a gas station? Insanely great, right? This will be your lucky coin, your lucky charm! 100 on 4 please!

It’s my way of pretending I never heard the news to begin with.

I’m not asking which convenience store he went to. I’m not asking which numbers he played. I’m not trying to act like I didn’t get mad that time he splashed water on me at the pool. I’m not trying to remind him of all the times he playfully asked me to borrow money when I was a kid. I’m not trying to sit around talking about basketball all day and how much I love LeBron James (I will confess my love for the King to any peasant). I’m not trying to educate my aunt on how dirt is more conspicuous on black cars and offer to wash her new Camaro, annnnnd ask to go for a spin in it. I’m not trying to babysit my cousin (their surviving child). My grandma never came over to my place that day and the first thing she said to me after not talking to me in 2 weeks was not “My favorite son-in-law just won $440,000 playing the lottery.” It’s none of my business! It’s none of my business! It’s none of YOUR business, woman!

Would you start playing the lottery after a family member won a significant amount of money? Why or why not?

the jig is up

999 puzzle pieces pour deliciously on the coffee table

The thousandth ran 2 laps on the grounds before coming to a calm post

The irregular shape of the piece against the perfect tiles makes it look like a spill from this height

Instead of water treating my head line, heart line, and life line, like a finish line, and racing through it like a hare, the shape of this puzzle piece has the profile of a baby tortoise upon slower analysis

“Turtles taste like cardboard” I expressed so I tucked in my puck

Roasting myself like, “You’re such a beanhead for letting that partner of theirs persuade you into spending Starbucks on a 3D puzzle instead of a flat white”

That pile of puzzle pieces sitting atop the mocha lava colored table is sculpted like a volcano, or did those cardboards just fall out the cardboard that way?

Maybe that’s why this turquoise turtle turned course? Poor little thing doesn’t know how to protect itself with its totally coarse shell yet.

Sugar dugar, I’m why your puzzle piece is missing

I have stolen a piece out of every puzzle made since 1991. The piece that most resembles a baby turtle. Don’t ask me how I do it. I don’t share my process with teenagers, mutants, or ninjas.

I was just a weird little zombie kid who wanted pet turtles

Because the pieces were all from different puzzles I never attempted to fill in the blanks with the tabs

Then one day during a commercial break of The Walking Dead I tried out of boredom and something amazing happened …