September 2009

The Time I Met Buddha

It was late on a Saturday night, technically a Sunday morning. After another depressing, unsuccessful night at the club I wandered into Eventuality Point. That's what I call the after-hours dive bar I always end up at when I fail to get laid at Tasty or Club 74 or The Cerulean Room... which is to say every single weekend for the past five years, not counting the time I got meningitis and was out of commission for a while. Eventuality Point is a sad, sorry excuse for a leisure establishment. The only reason anyone ever goes there is because they've got a license to serve alcohol until 4:00. Seriously one time I went there during Happy Hour and it was just me and some 60-year-old woman drinking Fuzzy Navels and smoking slims. The state banned indoor smoking six years ago but nobody ever goes to EP, not even the health department.


Hi, my name is Phillip Cross and I am here to present to you readers the secret of Anti-Meditation. Why would I share such an amazing gift with you for no compensation whatsoever? Well, for starters, have you looked outside recently? Life is slow and boring and everybody thinks too much. I'm not gonna write some book (though I could) and I'm not gonna make some stupid DVD to sell to a bunch of dissatisfied suckers on the Internet. This one's a freebie, if only because the world needs it.