"Moderation is a fatal thing; nothing succeeds like excess."
--Oscar Wilde
Q-Tip said "Hugging your mom is real."
Scrambling for change in the seats of my car in the drive thru window so I can get all bills back out of a 20 at Popeye's is hella real for me. I mean, on a regular basis. I mean, like last night even.
Going to see some crazy subtitled film with my girl so I can watch Mechagodzilla four times while she's there is real. Once in a while, they're even pretty good. And that's real.
Hating people I think are wack is real, even if my reasons are "I shoulda capped Jon Kitna's punk ass in high school before he ever got on the Seahawks" or what have you. It's not real good, but it's real.
Rushing home from work to see Ally McBeal and Sports Night and Action -- all real.
Playing chess, thinking about marrying my girl and having kids, oversleeping again after staying up and reading comic books until 2am, screaming X-Clan lyrics at the top of my lungs with my girl as we fly down the 10 freeway for what must be the hundredth time, dancing to Bobby Brown songs in my car on the way to work and having people look at me like I'm nuts ...
Real is stuff that happens.
Yah, crime and drugs and murder and vengeance happen. But not that often. I'm among the angriest people I know, and from 1987 to 1992 (the time I carried a gun everywhere I went) I shot exactly three bullets not at targets, and all three in response to being fired at (neither I nor the people shooting at me hit anything).
That stuff may be "real," but it's also real limited. Real marketable. Real stupid. Real reasons to re-evaluate your life and figger something out."
