The Golden Age of Fighting

Back when it was about you and him

Nah no boys needed; just you and him

Hit a lady maybe then you and them

But that’s just more the right of men

When it wasn’t about the taking of life

The limits were the duration of the fight

When you knew the working fight curfew

Before streetlights- people had shit to do

When drama simply meant “throwin’ hands”

Winners weaved and waited for hits to land.

Hit for bein’ in his yard; shot for bein’ in his wife

And on principle the judge wouldn’t give him life

So if there’s a time where I need to defend mine

From a dude from that sacred and honored time

I’m gonna fuck his daughter and shoot his dog

Cause with all due respect… fuck him. I’m from ’89.

Check from a pastor + 8 min =

If God is love then He is pain.

He is genius but never sane.

He is a feeling and never a thought.

He is feared as much as He is sought

He is the blur drawn around wrong

He is His own favorite unsung song

He is to be had and to be lost

He is to be free but only at a cost

He is the ability of good and evil

He is so postmodern yet medieval

He is a complex complexity

He is the simplest simplicity

He is happiness and depression

He is denial and confession

He is the reason why you’re alone

He is why you  notice you’re alone

Love is undefined despite the above

Undefined indeed for God is love. 

My New Pet Policy

My good friend just got a brand new puppy

And the rest of us sarcastically call him lucky.

I was happy but his happy seemed to be more

Because every day she met him at the door

And from the way her tail just kept waggin’

You’d think she knew he had been braggin’

One day he finally asked me about pets

“Not me. Never. I’ll skip on the trips to vets.

Whether you get a thorough breed or a mutt

They all track in shit that you have to clean up.

She's cute now but they're all like that as first

But you’ll see – post pups it’ll just get worse”

A year later his happy still stayed more

So I betrayed what I knew to be true before

Saved up for weeks and then hit the pet store

To get a friend that’d meet me at the door

Whenever I wanted to see her she was there

And even when I didn't... she was still there.  

I got used to her and went back to work

Though working late now made me a jerk

Even though I logged the extra hours for her

Should've gotten a cat. They know how to purr.

Before my briefcase can even hit the floor

She's always there to walk me from the door

Barking her doubts/thoughts about my day

So we'd fight, I'd get mad and call her a stray.

She says she remembers fetching toy sticks

And I say I remember licks, silence and tricks.

I said at times I just wanted to be left alone. 

So she did just that. She left me alone.

Now I’m out hanging up signs on light poles

Telling all my friends that she went psycho

Talking to the neighbors in between shouts

Saying “I don’t know how or why she got out”

But they know just like I know that I’m lying.

If I admit it now does that not count as trying?

My throat's knotted and I just want to clear it

Left to say sorry when she’s not here to hear it

Now I sit and growl stead of prowl like i deserved it

Why don't I get another dog? Because I’m allergic.

A Break from the Ridiculous

My good friend/accomplice/protege Oz The Prodigy told me of a creative writing prompt he had to write on (his piece is actually legit as hell) but I thought I'd take a swing at it too.

The assignment as i understand it is to write a poem that begins with the line "if there exists a hell  - the case is clear"


From Oz to Kansas

If there exists a hell – the case is clear,

That it is a physical place located in fear.

That forever awaits for you to draw near

No map needed; the path is fairly clear.

Hell is where you have what you want

But still nothing of what you need.

It’s the insecurity of wealth’s taunt

Depicted as your arrogance and greed

Hell is where you get your dream fast

Just to lose it forever even faster.

Where you still give it all that you have

As a slave to a dream you’ll never master.

Hell is where the “arts” and “thous” end

But pink slips and collection calls begin

Where broke parents cry for their children

Because they can’t afford for them to fit it in

Hell is where love and hate switches

Memories hurt more than stitches

Where confidants turn into snitches

Where first loves turn into bitches

If there exists a hell – the case is clear

That after the screams no one will hear

I’ll come to realize my own worst fear,

That there exists a hell  and we’re here.

Random shorts/questions

Why is it that all the professions where I want someone to be game ready (Doctors, Lawyers, Dentists, etc) are said to have practices?

If ageism and age discrimination is illegal then why is statutory rape?

How can convicts pass the legal bar but medical patients can't pass fifth grade biology?

Why can't we fine employees like we fine athletes? "Negative quarter? I think not. I've been meaning to tell Susie to sit her ass down for weeks."

Has saying "football giants" every been necessary for someone's understanding? "There's dudes in NY must naturally just be huge...oh football... I get it."

If time machines were real would I end up beating my own ass for dating that one ho?

If kids' cartoons are educational then why do we let mystical creatures teach them? "Yes bobby the number three is right! No unicorns are not real you dumb bastard."

Has every serial killer in every movie taken a land navigation course or are they always just that comfortable with the area?

Are Africans just black Amish people?

Why do broke people have the most superstitions about how not to be broke?

What if Maury was illiterate and just randomly assigned babies to people?

Men hate spending money and hate women that are teases. Makes sense... Why are strip clubs so successful then?

Why do wine-o's think they are sophisticated just because they add an "o"? That's still not a real thing.

If Black people really didn't support their own race like everyone says then how in the hell would Tyler Perry or Aunt Jamima  have money?

Why I love religion

I love religion because everyone wants to talk about it but no one wants to talk about it. The premises are ingrained in everything but at the same time they make little sense. For example:

God knows all.
Sin is inevitable.
God designed the most horrific place beyond human comprehension to send those who sin.
The only way around the above is to submit to his ego.

Conclusion? God knew that he was going to send you to die eternally in a fiery pit before you even thought about submitting. - That is hilarious.

I also love that "humanistic" virtues are tawdry when talking about god or a god of some kind. God can be called angry, vengeful, wrathful, jealous and a whole slew of things but I know (and it makes me happy) that the reference to his "ego" is bothering the hell into most of you.

How is that not an egotistical approach to...well all of existence?

Call me awesome or burn.
If you call anyone else and me awesome at the same time...burn.
If you don't call me awesome despite me killing your family for sport...burn
If you don't think I'm awesome despite me creating evil, your ability to reason/critique and free-will.
Many will claim to be me and you should question them...if you question me you burn.
            - This last one really bothers me... can we get a shirt color? You'll be wearing the Space Jams?
In the beginning there was me and I was just sitting in a void thinking... "I wish stuff existed to bask in my awesomeness...and then I made stuff."

It's all very comedic because at the end of the day the above is held as irrefutable even though you admit that all humans innately suck. You everything think that maybe you're going about it wrong... on account of you being human and sucking? Maybe the premises above were written down wrong...can he not be awesome without you clinging to these premises?

Misquoting/translating/interpreting seems plausible considering the context. I mean who knew there'd be 66 books and the one verse i was supposed to write got recorded? What if I was supposed to write the next 5 commandments but it was late and I didn't want to get up because then I'd have to pee - peeing is not convenient at night when demons, giants, pissed off angels, bored evil snakes and divine bets concerning if you'll roll over on the creator or not exists. I'd never leave the cave...or sleep.

If god doesn't play favorites and we are all his children why don't I have two holidays???

haha people get so sensitive - here watch this.

To be an angel is a compliment despite the fact that the great harbinger of evil is an angel and the fact that Gabriel is more like Freddy Kruger than any other person in history. You mad? haha I knew you'd be... but then again god knew you'd be too but yet he still led you to read this...why? Because immortals and mortals alike love seeing you get angered so stupidly.

I'm not saying that jesus is rofl-ing at you. Everyone knows jesus can fly. Who am I to limit him to rolling on the floor??? The hubris of some people.

Oh and if the lowercase letters bother you... I'm glad. I highly doubt the grand pub-ah of all cares about grammar. If he does and it's a hellible offense then I was screwed from the beginning anyway.


I also love that the very subject of of the above pisses people off. If every relationship with the divine is unique/personal and you are not allowed to judge... "why you mad?"

The answer is because you are an insecure clown that holds on to the idea that you and only those that think like you know the "Truth". It must truly suck to be so scared about getting a question wrong that you fail because didn't even finish the test.

On Marriage

If you were a teacher and all of your students struggled or failed people wouldn't look at them... they'd look at you. So why don't we as a society approach most of our own failing systems with the same suspicions? For example, marriage is a failing institution.

Some say it's due to adultery, the ease of divorce or any number of reasons. Even though I don't dismiss those are being apart of it I feel as though marriage has been cursed by one significant change in history.

Before I get to that though I propose that we reform the contractual expectations of marriage. I suggest that marriage licenses have a term limit of or around 2 years. The idea seems novel...but name off all of the legally binding contracts that you have with the state or anyone that's eternal. The first that came to mind was life in prison but even they get the courtesy of parole.

Maybe now is a good time to explain. It is my belief that the culprit behind destroying the traditional "American" family was not the gays. It was the medical community. Living to regret obligations made in your youth seems like a dismal fate. Probably not to you Disney channel optimists though... think about it. Logic tells me that more times than not the average human will not feel the same way about another singular entity for 70 years or so.

That's not to say that love or any other fairy tale nonsense doesn't exist it is just saying that statistically you idiots have taken it way too far. So I'm in love with her and will be for one hundred years... thank God Himself that we just so happened to attend the same junior high or heaven knows I would have never married. Seems dumb? Bccause it is.

2 year contracts can be renewed and maintains the level of obligation. It also allows for the implementation of far stricter punishments for a breech of contract. Within the bounds of a two year commitment failing to deliver comes with high consequences - try breaking a cell phone contract. If you want to cheat just wait until the contract expires and don't renew. You can even keep all of your stuff since you complied.

Financial adjustments etc can be penned out every two years or so in case a non-renewal ever came to pass and because things had already been prepared in some regard it would be far less taxing on the system. For those that want to deny progress I propose that we fully embrace your pseudo-religious "sanctity" of marriage.

If marriage is to be preserved it has to be permanent. Not in theory but in practice. If you get divorce you should pay all of your possessions to society, we should be able to kill you or we should ban you from ever marrying again. Stop hedging your bets. Til death do you part is only prose until you at a .45 to the mix as enforcement.

If God put you two together I believe that you should merrily join hands on your way to the hottest most sadistic place that "love" ever invented. For all of us that realize that the game is stacked against you... maybe a change is needed.

The Loss of a winner

Every passing day I'm even more deconstructed and apologetic as I've ever been because you all convinced me that we were the best.

I've been both a hero and a villain with you're help but even in the greatest moments I wasn't good enough and there's nothing I can do to change that. All I can do is box up the costumes of our own patriotic delusions.

Rest in Peace to the family that were more apart of me than any blood relation ever could be and I hope you know I will see you as soon as I show you how sorry I truly am.

I should start by saying I apologize to the nieces and nephews that I now will never have because in the end we weren't that good and I wasn't better.


http://sempertullius.blogspot.com/

Ellen DeGeneres

SAP: The following post has been written with asterisks for members of the Black community*. 

Today I gave a child $100 for helping me understand something I never thought I would.

I was in the gym locker room putting on my shoes when I saw a little boy about five years old or so and his father, a man with the sagging hairy mammary glands of an orangutan*. 

The father left the boy behind in the locker room with his gym bag and it was only a matter of time before the boy started to explore. He immediately pulled out the brightly colored container that was marked with a word much too big for him to sound out; but the boy didn't care about the words printed on the container... it was brightly colored and it smelled nice. So without hesitation he removed the lid and licked the freshly used stick of deodorant*. When he first licked it - as with most things - there wasn't a taste - just the friction of his tongue dragging across the dry surface... 

But once it registered, little Jethro's face* reflected his loss of innocence and the betrayal that he had just experienced. Just imagine expecting to potentially enjoy something based upon its attractive exterior only to find out that it was all a lie. His scrunched up face gave way to an endless stream of tears as he put his fingers in his mouth frantically trying to wipe away the sweaty dry taste but all he could do was pluck the bits of hair* from in between his teeth and off of his tongue.

It's a dark tale but after seeing that face it dawned on me... 

"Damn, I bet that's what it's like when a lesbian loses her virginity." 

I paid the young philosopher his money and was on my way. 


So mote it be,

Marc Tullius  @MarcTullius




The following is expressly intended for Negros and allies of the Negro community:

* My niggas. 

*That old nigga had monkey-bitch titties. 

* "But Marc why didn't you stop him?" Excuse me? Because I wanted to see that shit. If I hadn't I wouldn't have learned what it would be like to go down on Serena Williams, now would I? The better question is where the fuck was your ole questionin' ass?? You get on my damn nerves. 

* Yes, I made up the name Jethro and gave it to him. Why? Because that's some ole Jethro ass shit to do. How many Jamal's sit around eating deodorant? Exactly. Besides...niggas don't take family trips to the gym...we ain't got that many guest passes. 


*That's what his little bad ass gets. When yo' triflin' ass daddy leaves you, you are supposed to sit yo' little ass down somewhere. I hope your mouth tastes like that until puberty you little suck ass child.***




***I should probably not have children. 

Peta Should Arrest this Bitch

As you will come to know I am but one of a collective and as such I have many colleagues that you will all be introduced to in time. One of which is my good friend T. Legend (@SixIIAK) who has an unhealthy obsession with the female specie...all of it.

Any who, we were out on the town one eve and were approached by one of his vaginal fans. And before we could avoid her like the plague that she would come to be known as...the she beast opened her jowls to speak - "Hey guys!!! You like my stockings? I wore them instead of underwear but I didn't realize they are see through."

It was then that my friend's disease took hold, compelling him to ask, "whatsoever do you mean broad?" In hindsight this is when the authorities should have been contacted.

It was then that the dreaded Beast of a Thousand Pounds raised her dress in the middle of the street revealing her pit of despair...

There it was... mashed and crammed in sideways. I had a firsthand see through view of a woman trying to kill her own savagely abused vagina. It haunts me.

At the end of long days when I close my eyes and pray for peace, I can still picture her bloated rash ridden and razor torn vagina - resembling a partially opened can of biscuits bursting unevenly through the mesh seams.

I begged my subconscious to stop! But all that did was make me feel sorry for the unheard cries, shutters and pleadings of death that that vagina oozes out daily. Cursed to constantly leak the sole wish to die instead of living the life assigned to it.

Sure. She tries. Yeah, I'm sure she tries to console it... but how do you teach an abused vagina to trust again? To love again? To not shutter every time it feels the outside air caress its dank interiors? ... Shutters brought on by every memory of being left exposed and alone just to be misused by Taco Bell stained fingers.

I can't. I just can't go on...

My friends... my fellow Tullians - all I ask is that you pause for a moment of silence. Just a moment. One moment for all of the billions of genitalia abuse cases that go unreported by a society too busy to care.


So mote it be,
Marc Tullius @MarcTullius