It's Andy Fish!

And unlike the sign outside some friends homes I’ve seen it’s a legitimate sentiment. These same people that put this sign out are mostly doing it for show, to demonstrate they’re a superior person because they think many of us are racist. Yet these same people often think just because I’m born a certain color I can’t be successful, many of these people think if you don’t boot kick the latest progressive term you are one of them and you’re most likely a Nazi or a Facist, not realizing they’re behaving more like them than anyone else is. I don’t like posers.

But for me I just want to use the word correctly. I’ve come to realize I throw it around too much. Double layer cake? I hate it too much frosting. Broccoli? I hate it- vile weed! Bobby Patterson’s Batman? I hate it.

Nah, I don’t.

I really contemplated it the other day– what do I truly hate? I’m not crazy about disrespect but I am quick to give the other person the benefit of the doubt that something in their lives that has nothing to do with me is causing that reaction.

Broccoli? I don’t like it– I used to–especially with a nice rare steak and some potatoes but when I eat it I get a feeling like there are little needles in my stomach, apparently it’s a condition that some folks have.

Bobby Batman? He’s not my Batman, but then none of the guys in the rubber suits have been. I find the outfits ridiculous. A good friend who teaches the effective hand to hand combat technique Krav Maga put it best– it’s like putting on one of those dog protection suits– you know the ones you wear when you’re training a doberman to tear someone into pieces? They work great for taking a beating, but you’re so over padded and restricted in movement that you can’t give it back. I would really love to see someone in one of these batsuits get into the Rin with a boxer or a martial artist and see how far it goes.

More than the suit, I didn’t like the Kurt Cobain take on Batman that Bobby gave, his mascara was running in the constant rain and he seemed to do a lot of crying.

I don’t hate it, it’s just not for me.