Keepin’ It Real, How: Offseason Sunday Etc. Etc.

Friends, scholars, imaginary weirdos all: buenas noches. I renounce pretense. Reject all runarounds.  Henceforth, I will simply say how I feel and live and carry on like that, forever and eveL, amén. And now, you can Keep It Real too, with my KIR method©. You get it free because DFO is the best possible outlet for self-sabotage.

Duh.

Here’s my KIR Method© pitch. Please put your volume at 31 and hit play for ambiance—skip the ads #Obvio

You, friendly friend, are an adult. And a damn fine one. During the last 23 years, I am sure that—the music is playing right? That’s part of the presentation. Volume at 31.

During the last 23 years, I am sure that other people, if they are honest, can say they have seen or heard about you. So you are known, somewhere between a social butterfly and a timid hermit crab. Now imagine never ever ever having to field, credibly, any accusations of being a hypocrite, a phony, a charlatan, a bullshitter…

Think about it. Now increase the volume to 43.

With my KIR Method©, listen to the music, chime, pause… Chime chime…

With my KIR Method©, you’ll have inner peace as fuck—that’s right, a fully fleshed af—because you will say what is inside you but, you know, not in a raw antisocial way because because we live among other people and have obligations. Check out the list above of acceptable synonyms to two-faced cunts. Notice that “sellout” is not on the list. It isn’t because, after I ran “sellout” through my KIR Method©, nah man. Sellout is derogatory. You do what you gotta do for yourself and your family, especially if it’s a job you hate. That is a certified KIR Approved© social taek, which comes with an income scale in the particular case of sellouts, which available on the _{free registration} app.

Let me tell you the story. On an energy drink fever dream, I developed the flowcharts and narrative to reduce Keepin’ it Real to a process. The whole monograph is up for publication in Moloch’s Industrial Engineering Quarterly, but I can give you the gist of it. At its core™, the method requires four steps: first, the gut reaction. If you are young, take notice of it: if you’re over, oh… Let me check the paper—OK found it.

Per my KIR Method©, if you’re over 31, hang on to your gut reaction like Batman clings to gunphobia. So that’s the first step, gut-reaction, age-callibrated even. Now decrease the volume to 37.

You got your gut reaction, now comes the second step: deliberation. How to react, or if to react at all. Think about it. Breathe in. Mull over your gut reaction. Breathe out. I’m gonna guess you didn’t expect this post would be a presentation with audio, huh. Breathe in. Are your folks doing good? Breathe out. Sorry I didn’t know. I was just making conversation—ok you’ve mulled over your gut reaction.

The third step is, scrape off the violence from your decision on how to deal. I know, I know. Keeping it real without resorting to violence seems counterintuitive. (I’ll get to the no-violence later, it’s a sticky wicket.) How about you stop the music, and put on something you think is nice and agreeable, like The Beach Boys or Mentors.

So we removed the violence, now comes the fourth step: act / react / 🤷🏼‍♂️. Oh yes, 🤷🏼‍♂️. One hallmark of the KIR Method© is that both indifference and performative ghosting are inaction options. Oh my god folks, and I say this from my studies and ❤️  [Ed. Note: stet KIR Method Approved©]: you cannot believe how much your life can improve with focused obliviousness.

SOME NFL NEWS

Are best left to the time when

The draft starts Thursday.

[Meticulously prunes shitfruit bonsai]

STANLEY CUP PLAYOFFS

Utah @ Las Vegas (Game 1) – 9 PM Central

FINALLY,

Let’s get back to ♫Meee♫ and my KIR Method©, Step Three: scrub off the violence. Removing the violence from keepin’ it real can seem counterintuitive and anticlimactic because we’ve all been motorists. But yeah, no violence; it’s a personal preference. Hell, for the last three years, my machete has been propping the NW leg of my bed. Blade inward

Nevertheless, keeping it real, Imma reserve the right to change my mind about violence when senility approaches. Tantrums, by definition, are undiplomatic. And what work for babies is an Old Reliable for the Olds: tantrums work.

No matter how foolproof the KIR Method© is, I’m not gonna waive my behaving-like-a-loon that is the birthright of everyone who makes it over 71. And if I gotta use a cane… Gimme a break. Cane will get swung, fo sho. When I cross the threshold and become an Old, I will loudly exercise my prerogative to get worked up about a soup that is so cold that it was ready to eat when served, and not when I let it sit a while—as is custom.

But back to my work. Violence, my KIR Method© full paper stresses in key footnotes, should only be left to professional athletes in arenas, for pay. First test, cockfights. During 45s term, cockfights were outlawed. In PR, they are still going on despite the federal law. Gut reaction: Gallos forever. Let’s deliberate.

Gallos, as cockfighters and cockfighting is known, has been the Sport of Gentlemen here in PR for at least 300 years. Folks bet during a cockfight, not through chits but through someone in the audience taking bets by voice or gestures. Here’s the kicker: you can change the bet during the cockfight. Word is bond in the bets, which is the gentleman’s part. and you pay or else. Oh my gaaa you gonna pay: there’s no such thing as a misunderstanding, which smacks of Old School Justice, amén.

Furthermo’, listen: I’ve been around chickens all my life.  When not lounging or strutting around, which is 90% of a cock’s daily schedule, all they do is fuck every hen, ♫KI KIKIRI KIIII♫ [phonetically] a couple waaay early times, and fight other cocks.

Third step, scrub “YOU PEOPLE” invective, and fourth step: cockfighting is KIR Approved© from this Caribbean Paradise. Technically gamecocks may not be professional athletes, but they’re certainly prizefighters who’d do it for free anyway. Caveman logic works superb with culture politics ya know…

Bullfighting, on the other hand, involves picadores on horseback and banderillleros who stab and tire out the bull. And then when the bull is tired, a gloree boy matador (much like Peyton Mannking when the Donks last won the Owl), comes and kills him. Yeah him, the bull. That’s right. Any animal about to be executed ceremonially deserves humanity’s highest compliment: personification. O Noble Beast, welcome to the realm of abstract thought and war profiteering and emotionally oppressive leisure.

Bullfighting, nawt KIR Method© approved.

But keeping it real, the cockfighting part was the original end of this post. Why seek rejection when structure can give ya less derision. KIR Method© spproved.