Tag Archives: thoughts

WordPressident #7 

Baby, lets talk
Yesterday I searched the meaning of my name
Google/googoo gaga/God God/gah gah
Expressed exasperation in exclamation, boohoo blah blah
Cause I was wrestling with it being a Christian name but here’s what took the Edge off
The meaning, totally reeked awesomeness, I hand-in-waistcoat posed for 5 seconds, keshessshhh or chachzzz, how do you write the noise a camera makes? Let’s have a spell off
This is what I read off, Wikipedia, Harold is derived from Hereweald here “army” weald “leader”
The new letters in my name made me go weee but the O went dark like periods, full stop era girl features
They’re either, but from the derivative let’s carry on pal, the diminutives is Harry and Hal
With 6 days remaining before January is out the dictionary has crowned …
One the word of the day I’ll let you shoulder time browsing
But just note, today, I used it in a sentence so much I lost count it’s over 9 thousand
But let’s not drag on about me, me, let’s talk about you, yeah you, ballsy/ball Z, could ya be more ballsy?
The customer is always right, yeah from 3 to 9
But at 9:01 in the 901 a right to the customer would’ve got me 3 to 9
But my feet are fine ’cause I’m sitting on my ass all day
Warehouse? Unless it’s a TV inside my closet, speaking of that, hallways
Revealed a page, I’m thinking what is this cause my bills are paid, pest control already did their deal and sprayed
I pick up the note from that wide ass gap and it revealed a fate
Tiredrun Parkinsons/Tyrone Parsons is no longer employed where I live and stay
I’m thinking this can’t be real, a prank
But when I saw the edges of that same letter underneath my neighbor’s door
I knew the lights that shine through the cracks was just that and not a tape record
But I don’t know if I’m on the same accord about the smoke detector looking over where I make the score
But that smile wasn’t safe no more ’cause my grandma went to the hospital at 7 she was aching sore
I checked on her at 10:30 and she STILL HASN’T BEEN-, say no more
You should get every nickel back from the insurance you’re paying for ’cause what are you, what are you, what are you waiting for?
Make doctors nurses patients, then make their family members impatient, boy!


WordPressident #2

What if I’m not staring at a blank page?

What if I’m admiring art drawn with a white crayon?

This is not writer’s block. Squares and rectangles. 

But my inability to create is a shape, but it started off as a letter. Took the process of D-E-F-G-H-I-J-K-L-M-N for the C to come full circle. 

Because what goes around comes around unless C was meant to break the cycle. N-M-L-K-J-I-H-G-F-E-D. You see it’s hard to kick the habit of pausing on certain letters even when saying the alphabet backwards. 

But back to words I’m not looking forward to like C’est des conneries when the paper plane doesn’t crash into the Eiffel Tower carved from pencil lead. So pardon my French! 

Maybe I should only communicate with body language? Like the dances the 55 percenters do. 

But how would I write that? I don’t want asterisks neighboring my words. “Turn a negative into a positive and think of it as a star.” 

*Pentagon* *Pentagon* “Wait, I’m already a star.” You may have 5 points but you’re more a house without windows and doors. 

Maybe if you can find a way to get me on the other side I can give you those aforementioned  squares and rectangles.

But unfortunately it’s too late because I just gave you a circle. 

Or is it a C?

*Shrugs shoulders*



Kiss peace 💋✌🏾

Animal Balloons (Grrr)

Hmph. You telling me you had those animal balloons since November and your first time trying to create a 3 twist dog is today, the day you’re scheduled to upload your next video?! The script was memorized, your hair was cut, the lightening was right. But the reason you’re gonna be a day late is because you can’t make a got-damn giraffe?! A got-damn swan! Oh, something you could have practiced on yesterday, Sunday, your birthday, you know, days you wasn’t doing shit anyways. When I looked at you in the mirror earlier at the gym and said “I hate you” I wasn’t trying to motivate you. I meant that, literally. Who the hell are you, now? Because even Har-old was better than this shit!

4 Reasons Why Quitting Your Job To Become A Tax Preparer Was A Step Back (And Neither Is Because It’s Seasonal)


Dear Har-old,

Drawn by FY author Calliope
Drawn by FY author Calliope

the bad

  1. 50 cents less an hour.
  2. Bi-weekly pay periods.
  3. Under 40 hours weekly.
  4. And most importantly, what you were doing it for in the first place, the bonus money. It’s a tax preparer’s second refund, which would have definitely recompensed for the peanuts the first one was. You won’t get any! Not even one thrown at you. And that should make you feel salty for being roasted. Why? 3 reasons.
    • Although, when you was marking locations you preferred to work at, the ones nearest you, they still put you in an unchecked box like a pair of Adidas. A location that barely did over a 100 returns last season.
    • Nobody really knows you’re a tax preparer on the outside. Remember when one of the managers said 40% of her clients are co-workers, people from her full-time job. You know, people who you definitely shouldn’t practice selective mutism with. Good thing you overcame it on your last day and announced to everyone who had been continuously posting THAT article on the walls in the bathrooms. Whew!
    • You depended on your earth dad for clients. You really bought that 10K, 15K stuff? How many times has he lied to you, again? Yeah, okay!

 the good

  1. You get to see what Eric Cartman meant about fusing your ass into a chair. No more warehouse floors! But I question the goodness of it when treadmill use has been inconsistent.
  2. It’s on a bus line; you can get to it on your own. But sometimes you still …
  3. The third time was the charm. This, along with getting your first marketing/sales/customer service dollar shows just how persistent you are!
  4. Your fine ass co-worker ❤

Jackson Hewitt lady


speaking of initials

Futuristically Yours. The F is you, Har-old, the defeated, a body laid out on a canvas. The Y is me, Har+new, the victor, hands in the air. I’m not sure who’s who anymore!



P.S. I guess I will know on May 27th.