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Baloney Sandwiches Posts

My Memorial Day

Yesterday when driving back from fishing, burnt the hell up from the sun, and fishless, I drove past a huge cemetery. The cemetery was overcrowded with grave stones, big, small, fancy and plain. You could tell someone spent thousands of dollars on some of them, probably dipping into their savings. Others were modest – some were so small the names of the deceased could barely fit onto them. It reminded…

Baloney Sandwiches & Hip-Hop

When I hear people speak about what they consider to be hip-hop or hip-hop culture or proclaim that they’re true “Hip Hop Heads” simply because they listened to, grew up around, or are familiar with Rakim, Wu-Tang Clan, or KRS 1, I begin to wonder whether they were actually around when hip-hop music and culture began its journey and whether they truly know as much as they believe they know…

Saving Mom

I begged and pleaded for a little sister for about a year and I was finally going to get her. Mom was pregnant by Mr Joseph Woods. Mom worked with Mr Woods at the post office. He was one of the best dressed, bald headed, pieces of shit you could ever hope to meet. He carried a decorated cane like a pimp, and wore flowery silk, long-sleeve shirts and snazzy…

Christmas Eve: The Night Mom Died

I remember the night when Mom finally passed away. I say finally because she was suffering so bad that I couldn’t bare to even look at her face or into her sunken eyes. It was Christmas Eve and I was sitting on a customers lap in my neon/fluorescent orange outfit with the Swarovski crystals all over it, the top had really cute short sleeves and fit my fairly new Double…

Piss in Boots

I left the house bundled up like an Eskimo and headed to school. It was freezing cold outside and everything was covered in glistening, white snow.  I had on my new,  knee high, chocolate brown, suede boots with the rabbit fur-lining.  I loved those boots.  Mom tried to buy me what she liked to call “practical boots” which translated to big, ugly, waterproof, and especially ugly, what I liked to…

Cuban Refugees aka Marilito’s in the Midwest

Marielito’s in the Midwest I was 16 years old when I met Marielito, and had recently moved back in with my mother because I couldn’t handle my stepfather’s idea of rules and guidelines.  I was used to running wild and doing whatever I wished because my mother was more interested in her weird relationships with her various and assorted ex-convict/drug addicted boyfriends. At the time Mom was with her boyfriend…

Sleeping with One Eye Open

After Grandma died, everybody in the family went haywire. I never realized that Mom wasn’t really around that much, because I loved Grandma so much that it didn’t matter to me one way or another. Aunt G started drinking really bad. Aunt Mary started shooting Heroine. My favorite cousin Velt became a pimp. And me, well I guess I was left to the wolves. Mom got heavy into the church.…