Holy Shit...Its Been A While n Shit.

Well fawkn ehh, its been a while since I pounded this thing like a Lawdge server...

Just hit my 9mts clean and sober. Not a drop of booze, toot, puff the magic draghole, nuttin… But I do find myself occasionally having a smoke of a ciggypoo here and there... NOT a habit I want to start, but it's helped in certain situations.... Back to chomping on gum instead, that's cleaner and much cooler...The cigs help with the minor anxiety flare ups of being in and a round a goddamn fawkn  bar non stop...Which will soon stop...
Ive been busting my ass with The Dojo for over a year now. Its been one wile fawkn ride to say the least. I started that bitch and a few months later I got stabbed in the fawkn neck a quarter inch from my carotid artery, bled the fawk out, had a blood transfusion, emergency surgery, and almost died in the sense that the shank was so close to the artery and from stab to ER it was about 20mins which means if it hit the artery, the surgeons said the BEST case for me would have been a major stroke, but the most likely scenario would have been death, cuz of that 20min lag of being lost in SanDiego…
SO here I am, punching away at this thing like its my last jerkathon before school is back in session. Trying to make sense of it all, when in reality, it makes total fawkn sense...
Ive considered a life of complete and total sobriety for a very long time...I thought about how it would be to not want or feel the need to drink, even just one or two... My issues aren't with the booze n drugs itself, my issues have been with feeling the need to be the party boy, the ring leader, the one that knows how to have fun, let loose, all that Vegas kinda shit... I then dug deeper and saw that I felt that I wasn't cool enough so I needed booze to be a better version of me...And that got out of hand a long long time ago... I let booze become me, I let it take over me and run the ship... I felt like I needed it to have friends, hook people up at bars I worked at, get bottles n table service n all that shit... Then I never wanted the party to stop, I loved the thrill, the excitement of staying up til 3,4,5,6am drinking and talking and tryna slide my jinglebearers into some sludge...Then I found coke and it literally just ruined everything...Coke is such a garbage drug... Its ideally a great clean drug to jack you up and make you feel like doing shit, when all it is is stepped on rat poison mixed with baby powder that makes u feel like you are in a rapeshed of a bathroom with 3 other people talking about all the ideas and things you are gonna do when in reality you are going to do absofawnlootly nothing because the next day or AFTERFAWKNNOON you will have such a fawk of a cokeover that you will lay in bed with a shriveled up penis tryin to wack yourself to sleep and then nut what looks like a fly loogy and try to pass out and that wont work so you just smoke 3 bowls and numb out and have that weird..am I asleep or not sleep... Gawd DAMN that sounds sickenly awful...And for fawkz sake we've all been there, don't lie and project and say it was him or her, when deep deep DEEP o baby DEEP down inside you know exactofawknlootly what tha fawk im talking about....
Anyways, where was I.. O ya... The Dojo or something or nother…
I love that thing and everything about it... From Sams insanity to my lil terds that help out, Drew n Stinky... I've got something really fawkn special on my hands and I want that bish to prosper and grow into a legit AF comedy room (maybe even a club) but I also need to make way for who I am and what I want to do as well... Theres more to my life and goals that I'll just keep off tha muthafawkn innawebb, cuz hey bishes, that MY choice...so eat a dik if u don't like it...
Its a shit day out today in LA, cold, rainy approaching a cumfilled weekend...Yet Im kinda happy about my current status... I got jazz on, wrapped up in an APC blankie LilTrev got for me, warm coffee, writing my dick off and got some soup-gruel-slop in the crockpot that looks like prison dumplings... Life aint so bad as long as you change your prescription every once in a while.. NO I don't mean the addy, percs and all that bullshit you shove down your throat because you've convinced yourself you need medication to be a better person... I was being figurative in saying, change your prescription on your perception of life and reality... You gotta role with the punches n shit, life CAN be all sunshine and rainbows, but it can also be cold n rainy like it is right now in LA... Use this time to be a lil wiser n smarter about what u needa get done... I got laundry to do, I aint gonna do it.. I need new chonies too..and Id like to get new running shoes so I can actually start running again and lose this 6month preggo belly once and for all...Jesus I think Im lactating again..hold on, gotta go pump...
Ok im back from that fictional pumping sesh with ma tiddez…
Anyways, here's WONDERWALL...

Dinner With The Bourdains....

(A rough cut of my story written in July of 2012. Thank you for reading. May God rest your soul Anthony Bourdain aka Tony B.)

“Dinner with The Bourdains”
By Trevor A. Keveloh

 

Well, to begin this outing, I have to say that there is an interesting back story leading up to this event that I would LOVE to tell you about, but I’d rather focus on the dinner at hand. Just too much to explain and I’d rather dive in head first.

Let’s get our fork and knife and dig in to the meat.

We had the pleasurable experience of having dinner with Ottavia and Anthony Bourdain at the beautiful restaurant Carnevino inside the Palazzo Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas. Amongst us were Elisabeth and Jacob Nuesser, owners of Fight Chix, Craig Vander Woude Director of Intangibles and of course, me. We were respectfully seated in a private area in the back of the restaurant which was decorated with a touch of class yet so simple. Dim lighting, thick curtains and a quaint table for six but big enough for eight. We did our handshakes and hugs and sat down and got to talking. I was seated right next to Anthony, or as we like to refer to him, Tony B. Some of you know me as a talker, a comedian, kind of a loudmouth at times so it may shock you that I was dead silent for almost the first 40 minutes. I kept looking at Tony thinking, “Is he supposed to be on my T.V. right now? I’m confused. He’s in front of me and NOT on T.V.” I finally shook out of a daze after a few Jameson’s, neat. Craig and Tony B got into a long discussion about styles of guns and ammo, wound wraps and so on, (Craig is in the Air Force and also goes by the nickname AF1.) While we were having conversations about big boy guns, I leant an ear over to Elisabeth, Ottavia and Jacob who were talking about Women’s MMA, BJJ and so on. Elisabeth and Jacob explained the rise of Fight Chix to provide a more open and honest perspective on how and why we are, where we are. I felt like Ottavia got a better grasp on not only the company’s roots and focus but more so, who we are as everyday people.
A few discussions later, we decided to look over the menu. Packed and stacked with lustful descriptions of meat, pasta and appetizers, I was in awe on what could be indulged. I did my research on this establishment and read up a bit on Mario Batali and tried to pick my choices best suited for what he would use as his flagship foods– STEAK of course! The wait staff was as perfect as you are going to get when it comes to fine dining. Well spoken, educated on the food, worked together like a well-oiled machine and attentive to all your needs and questions. We were eventually greeted by the hosts, managers and captain, all who were courteous and respectful. Tony B got into talking about some of his off-screen adventures with his film crew, which reminded me of, “Apocalypse Now.” I kept listening to the stories but all I could see in my head was Tony and his film crew on a little boat cruising the Amazon while he narrated what was happening with a Martin Sheen tone mixed with his New York attitude and “language,” if you may. As we jumped around from story to story, our table would casually meet up for a collective discussion; one of my more favorable stories was about children. Tony and Ottavia told us the cutest story about their 5 year old daughter who has her own tagline, ”NOOOOOO reservations,” which became a quoting theme the rest of the weekend amongst the Fight Chix Crew. In between all the conversations, stories and so on, the staff would bring out dishes that were, “compliments of the chef.” I can honestly say that I did not consume one dish that was NOT mouth-watering. Seasonsed mashed potatoes with cheese mixed in, this incredible flavorful corn, steak tartar and of course their famous herb bread with fantastic lard for dipping, oh my was this a treat! We finally got around to ordering. The waiter had mentioned earlier that there were a “select few of 9 month aged bone-in rib eyes in the cooler for special guests,” which of course were ordered by Tony and Jacob. I ordered the spinach salad and the bone-in New York strip. After we got the fun stuff out of the way, we continued our discussions. We spoke about the Twitter craze and how successful it’s been for so many people and companies. I am an avid Twitter user, but for all the right needs. I asked Tony, “What does it take to get verified. It seems like this elaborate process and I’ve read so much on it?” His response was right on but simple, “I know people who work at Twitter, so it’s easy.” Damn you Tony, DAMN YOU! 

And then… Dinner.

What I saw coming out was something out of a Mad Max movie. I saw these massive pieces of meat with what looked like the femur bone of a woolly mammoth sticking out of them which brought a WHOLE new term to, “bone in.” I was given my sultry steak which seemed to be oozing with perfection. The waiters went to get the rest of the food and while we waited Tony said something along the lines of, “in some cultures it’s poor food etiquette to let your food get cold,” so we began to dig in. My first cut into my medium cooked steak was like taking my first step off an airplane and onto a Hawaiian beach. This delicate breeze of ocean air filled my mouth. I felt at home, I felt like I could just sit here, enjoy this moment for days. I chewed away the notion that there was plenty more in this sexy little vixen of a steak. Each bite was meant to be completely different from the prior and the future, yet all derived from the same loins. I looked around the table and saw this communal respect for these beautiful creatures who had given their lives to us.
As this foodgasm came to an end, Craig and Tony rounded up dinner with the digestif known as Averna, while I stuck to my Jameson, neat. At that point I think we were all fulfilled in every way possible. Amazing food, quality drinks, great conversations, and being surrounded with such great people, the night was perfect.
Tony shared a story in which I was most fond of. It involved a blob-like actor/thing that is right up there with Hollywood’s greatest douchebags. I will simply say this story was, “gut hurt,” funny and I couldn’t stop laughing. Tony B went on to describe his first encounter with this over-sized troglodyte and some other things I’d rather not say. He then went on to discuss some other adventures of his that were in and out of this world, literally. In the midst in all of this I took myself out of the conversation for a bit and peeked into this dinner table from and outside point of view, almost as if I was holding a camera. I really saw how  charismatic and beautiful Ottavia is, with her intense laugh and an ability to speak with her body as well as her words, she is such a delight to be around. I focused on the conversation techniques with Tony, who we all know is a pretty rad guy on T.V. but in person is 10 times more RAD. He has no filter, no editing, no attention span to abide by to keep his stories short for the listener. He speaks with a calm authority and tells it like it is. His discontent with other T.V. personalities are prevalent and he gives you the same respect when you are speaking. He listens as well as he speaks, something I commend anyone for, that is in a similar position as he is. It was one of those revelations I had right then and there that makes me want to talk about it more. The fact that when I was telling my story to Tony he was as interested in it as I was in his story about the politics of T.V. and so on. Intense!

I stress to the reader that I would LOVE to share more stories about our dinner with these fine people, but I’d rather just leave you with the simple notion that they are just flat out, kick ass!
 

This four hour session was literally impossible to overcome. I walked out of there thinking to myself…  “I just had dinner with The Bourdains.” And I did.

17 Years Ago

17 Years Ago

By Trevor Keveloh

Maybe I should title this, my age years ago, but lets not go too far back, I wouldn’t want to make this about me now would I… OK, fine, I do, cuz hell, it’s my shit…

17 years ago I first set out for this, journey as it is not so cleverly called. I was a young 20something with big eyes, a big heart and big dreams and boy, a big head of nothing. I moved to LA to work with my mentor on a feature film which eventually fell through. Bad timing led to a 2months stint of living out of shitty Hollywood motels and eventually crashing with a friend and his family for a few weeks. It only took the tail between my legs that started to crawl up my ass to pack my shit and head to Arizona where I spent 6 months partying, then working, then becoming very homesick and leaving behind a lot of great memories and a lot of good friends, whom I no longer speak to because of the poor choices I made. But that’s in the past..

Jump up a few years later and Im heading to LA again to tackle this dream of mine. While my time in IL, I had been through some, umm, interesting things. Between married women, strippers and all sorts of shit, I decided to pack my car up and head to LA to try and work with my mentor, again. He advised me that he didn’t have any work for me, but id I came into town and something came up, he would let me know. On my way to LA I had stopped in Vegas to visit friends, which lead to me staying in Vegas for far too long, a few months to be exact. It was a situation I got myself into that could have been handled better but it wasn’t and I learned from it. A summer in Vegas with some good friends lead to me finally getting my shit together and making my way back to LA. Which I did. Kind of.

I had been hired at a corporate recruiting firm in Irvine where I had worked for a few months. Between couch surfing, living out of my car and having my bank account drained, I was back to being almost completely broke and living on the streets, literally. Id really like to go into detail about some of that shit, but I don’t want too because there is more to this story rather than spending an entire weekend in a fetish club with 15 women of ummm all sorts of ya know….You get it…

When I was about 7ish years old I had walked in on my two older brothers watched, “Dynamite Chicken” starring Richard Pryor. They didn’t kick me out so I watched. And watched. And watched. And became fascinated by this guy. Who the hell is he? What the hell is he talking about? What does he keep saying “n word?” I didn’t know what that word meant, but I knew it was naughty so I never said it.

Jump up a few years later and Im at the Ogden 6 Theater seeing a movie with my dad, uncle and cousins. I get up to go potty and I hear this laughing, this loud crazy laughing from another theater down the way. I walk in and here is this slick black guy dressed like Michael Jackson. Sporting a red leather get up, cracking up the crowd he’s preforming in front of and the crowd in the theater. He was making both crowds laugh and I was absofawknlootly mesmerized by this. His name was Eddie Murphy and it was, “RAW.”

I had never seen something like this before, other than this other funny black guy that was crazy and was talking about things I had never heard of…Richard Pryor…

After that, I knew what I wanted to do one day.

A few years had gone by and I became addicted to Comedy Central, especially SAST (Short Attention Span Theater.) I watched this show all the time. I even went as far as to write down all the comedy clubs they listed on the heading of each comic where he/she was preforming at. Carolines, Two Drink Minimum, Zainie’s, The Comedy Store and so on. I thought to myself, “I HAVE to go to these place ones day. One day when I move to LA and go on that stage.” I had started to rent every stand up comics video at Movietime Home Video. For the entire summer by childhood best friend and I rented everything from Rodney Dangerfield, to Paula Poundstone, to Andrew Dice Clay to Gallagher… It was official, I had to move to LA one day and “do comedy” and try to be an actor too.

Haha…Yea, real fawn easy isn’t it?

Jumping back to my second round at LA, I lost my job as a recruiter and ended up, again, living on the streets of LA. I was broke, living in my car and couch surfing. My mom occasionally sent me money and I had told her I was staying with friends, which I did here and there, but not all the time. For some reason I thought it was the norm to move to LA and live in your car, I had heard, read and even seen so many of these stories, it became like normal to me. But after a few months of it and working at a small restaurant that never paid me, I flew home with my family to celebrate the holidays.

I never looked back.

I spent most of my life pursuing and digging into the nightlife/hospitality industry where I excelled from a part-time bartender, parking lot security guard, so a head bartender, AGM and eventually a GM. Sprinkle in a few month “project: in Vegas that was an enormous mistake and you have yourself a decade of my life.

But everyday, every night, not one 24hr period had gone by where I didn’t think about moving to LA..Again…With all the failed relationships, inner struggles, battling legal shit and being too connected to things that kept me from moving forward, I had been in touch with a close and dear friend for this whole time. I had made a deal with him when I was in my Vegas project that eventually came to light.

We had set something in motion years before it came to light and one day it did. We had talked early in the year about some things I was going through. A bad break up, my bar closing and my owner passing all happened with in weeks of each other. There was no greater and stronger sign from the powers at be to get my ass back on track and go where I belong.

I had taken a part-time bartending job so I could take care of my dad during the day and I worked and saved as much as I could. Six months of that and it was time to do it. Again. End of December came along and my mom dropped me off at the airport and said to me, “do it right this time.” We had a moment and I walked into the airport, one way to LA, two suitcases and again, big eyes, a big heart and big dreams. 

I landed in LA and met my buddy at the airport. We both flew back to LA the same time (he was in town visiting family for the holidays) We got picked up and our journey began.

This journey, I love saying journey because its so cute and cliche, journey. It was a rollercoaster of WTF. A lot of long nights, days and everything else, I finally was grasping the LA life. It wasnt the beauty you see on TV, movies and all that shit, it was an up and down place. A place of peaks and valleys. A place where one minute yer on top and the next, yer waaaaayyyy down below. But I didn’t care, I had to go at this… Then it happened again…

I had been battling with another inner struggle with my father and his health and had made a decision far before it was known to, once again, go back and care for him. But it was like no other time before. My father was in need of 24hr round the clock care and I couldn’t just watch and listen and read about how hard he was having it and especially my mother, my biggest fan, The one person in my life that has pushed me to purse my dreams since I was a lil guy calling me the “long lost Belushi boy.”

I took a leave from work, subletting my apartment, packed my bags, and headed back to IL to take care of my father and mother. And I don’t regret it one single bit. Not even the slightest. What I had to endure mentally, psychologically and physically was not easy, not easy by any means at all, but this was a calling from something greater than me. This was my parents in need of actual help. What they had been going through was not common knowledge, not even to the closest of people. When you are there, 24hrs a day, 7days a week, I understood why I made that choice, and I will be always grateful for doing that so I know what I did was right. To watch them go through that killed me because I felt it was unfair. It wasn’t right, but thats life.

I spent those eight months learning about a lot. Between my father and his past, my mother and her struggles and myself, I knew that everything happening was meant for me to endure and no other. I took those lessons, those times with them, everything we shared and I used them to rebuild this fire inside of me that had been burning since I was 7… It never blew out.

I left for the airport again, my mother dropping me off as she had done so many times, almost as if this was the norm. Build up the emotions, tell each other you love them, then get on a plane and chase a fawkn dream. Again. And again. And again. And again.

No wonder people laugh at me and think I’ll be back or won’t succeed. They’ve never tried this… For 17 fawkn years.

In those 17 fawkn years I had been doing stand ups all around. Not many, but enough to get it. I didn’t tel a lot of people about it because I didnt want them there. I spent a few years training at Second City in Chicago and had been writing and studying all the comics I could. 

Those 17 years, those sleepless nights, those battles I went thru. Being up till 6am just daydreaming about living in LA, becoming successful in my field, going after, meeting people, the right and wrong, being picked around, arguing with girlfriends and always thinking to myself “I don’t belong here, I belong in LA,” as we take out our own insecurities on each other, loving my job, hating my job, thinking back to those days on Chippewa when I would binge watch SAST, record ALL of them on VHS, then binge watch them again. 

I think about that shit today, right now. I look back a lot and remember everything and everyone that brought me to where I am. I am not living a glorious or sexy lifestyle, but I am finally, finally, finaFAWKNlly living and doing what I was intended to do. Im not as young and fresh and sexy as I once was, but goddamn it, Im better than ever! I get up on a stage and I just love it. Those 3-8mins make me feel normal, they make me want to do it all day everyday. There is something magical when you are doing what you honestly and try absofawknlootly love to do that involves a crowd of people. 

To be in the middle of a set and to pause for a slight moment and hear those laughs, those eewwws, those awwweesss, those mouths drop, open, close, laugh and get covered… It’s special. It makes me know why I am here right now, why I am thinking about all the shit Ive been thinking about lately and most importantly, how grateful and humble I have become knowing that the future is as bright as the tunnel I have lit up with my own sacrifices and pursuit. 

Ive been very fortunate to connect with the people I have been lately and I am honored to call some friends and other colleagues. I know whats in store for me and its finally happening. 

I look back at that summer day in Chicago when I crawled into a Uhaul with a friend and my brother… 

I look back at everything I endured on finally just getting to where I start to be…

I remember all of those fawkn half-off Miller Lites I sold on Sunday at The Lawdge…

I remind myself everyday… Here I am…

17 years later… Finally doing it.

Fight To Write

By Trevor A. Keveloh

(Dedicated to my friend Mathew.)

 Well, here I am, about 4 months back into LA and grinding away again. I’ve been at a serious stand still for a while with my writing, it may actually be the longest I’ve gone without writing anything, at all, other than scribbles of madness at 4am of wonderful ideas, o yea, and some really weird but cool script ideas…But nothing like put together and shit.

I don’t know what my struggle has been but it has to do with my back and forth non sense and the fact that I absofawknloootly refuse to quit on this dream of mine I’ve had since birth. And splash in some bullshit family drama and people, you have yourself a fawkn writer.

My friend Mathew (whom this is dedicated too) gave me some schooling last night. We talked a lot about acting and writing and some projects he and I are working on and he told me that I need to stop fighting and start writing. I need to basically get out of my own head and get it on paper (computer, whateva.) So here I am, trying to make sense of a blog and drive towards a point. I guess what it will be is that we are all writers n shit and the people that actually do write and stop or pause or come across “writers block” need to simply… JUST. WRITE…

There is no other way to say it. (Sorry for hacking the film called Just Write starring Jeremy Piven, but it makes sense.)  Writing like anything else in this world is as easy and as complicated, difficult, boring, and exciting as you make it.

I usually have something exciting or worthwhile to bang out on the old shitboard, but I am kind of keeping my cards closer to my chest that usual these days. With unwelcoming people lurking in the weeds, like a rabid hyenas, ready to pounce when I am injured or distant, but this time, I play differently.

That may have made little or no sense but it was kind of cool to type and think about. I was going to go on with this really awesome tangent of man and animal examples but like I said, keeping cards close to my chest is much more worthwhile than a bunch of jagaloons doing what they do best which is… Jagaloonin n shit.

The block that we writers go thru can last a few months, years, decade and I think after a certain point, most would just say to hang em up… But I am a firm believer in not quitting especially your art, passion and all that awesome gooey shit we feel and want to push out, no not the squirts. Speaking of the squirts, ehh, well, nevermind with that, that’ll be a whole new blog on its open n shit J

So yea, that writers block, no point, rambling bullshit, family drama, friends are friends, exes with pec’s and what not. I guess what I’m really trying to say is that I don’t want to really get into a lot because I’m storing it for my acting classes in order to use as motivation, strength and somewhere to pull shit (Feelings) from and I want it to be as pure and natural as possible. I also have this really rad idea for a blog about some really lame dramatic shit that I will write but prolly not post cuz it’s for me n shit. Maybe I will. I dunno. For some reason I feel like I’m typing the inner monologue of Adaptation or something. Because I am actually speaking out loud the words I’m typing rather than keeping it in my head and jamming out to SHM type shit. I even sang a lil. Now this is turning into a letter from the movie Big which I did not intend it to be…So let’s get off this topic and back to the nonexistent one that I am going to trail off into the sunset, alone, while riding a tricycle.

I read back in the day about this really easy way to get out of a funk of non-writing. You just open up a random book and read the first sentence and then build off it into whatever it is you want to write about. I like that idea a lot. So if you have any other ideas, let me know cuz that would be rad.

The holidays are among us and I will be spending them in LA alone. This will be the first time I have been away from my family for Christmas ever and as much as I’d like to spend it with my mother and father; I am choosing to spend it out here. It’s something personal that I want to do and overcome, a milestone if you may. I spent Thanksgiving in LA as well and will continue to spend holidays out here until I feel like I actually WANT to go visit rather than am EXPECTED to go back and visit. That’s what we call choices and they were always a problem for you… ;) So I hope everyone gets nice and shitty at Tha Lawdge or downtown Naper or wherever and sends me pics and vids and snaps and tits and all that shit cuz I may just go hiking or something instead of drinking rum filled egg nog and pigging out on my mom’s cookie factory.

Well on that note I am going to end this cycle of madness and work on some scene studying and some personal growth… I hope everyone enjoyed this shit.

When People Thought It Was The Cocaine...

Last year I went on a crazy weight loss, strength gaining, self-building thing. I really don't know any other way to say it other than a THING. It wasn't some realization or an epiphany or any of that overly exciting shit. It was just kind of like, "I don't want to be fat anymore," (However, I don't mind being chubby.)

I just kind of got sick of being fat and not just fat, but unhealthy. Like my knees hurt, back hurt, was kind of a slob and shit. I was over it. I didn't like how I felt every morning and didn't want to deal with having a heart attack before 40, so I made the conscious effort to lose as much weight as I could.

It started with the idea. I picked a number to get down to. And I stuck to it. I was like a machine. I became obsessed with running, hiking, the gym, massive amounts of water and ESP protein. I was packing in like 140-160 grams of protein a day on average and virtually no carbs and knocked down the drinking to here and there. And when I drank, vodka/sodas and some Jamo. Everything I was doing was working great. I would wake up around 9/10, Pound a protein shake. Walk up to Runyon Canyon. Spend 3hours hiking. Walk down to Ralph's. Get some coconut water, protein bar, maybe some fruit. Walk to LA Fitness. Workout. Head home. Another protein shake. Hit the pool to cool off. Hit the sun. Shower. Go to work. Power down a huge protein meal. Work til 2/3am. Head home. Take some medicine. Go to bed. Repeat.

I did this for months. A good solid 3 months, about 5-6 times a week,or so and I was down from 260plus to 218 and counting. I was a machine and I loved it. I learned a lot about myself. Being alone for hours upon hours and not speaking a word to anyone, including myself. I was so proud of myself after I had to get a few new pair of jeans, tees were too big and I just felt great every day, all day. Even on my occasional morning hangovers, I still got up to sweat that shit out. Didn't care about anything but keeping at the routine. The good people at Happyz noticed and we all talked about all of our workouts a lot. The only thing I was missing was serious weight training, something I recently have been hitting. I was trying to drop the fat then put on the muscle. I was also on a super lean diet so I knew I'd have to change that a bit to really pack on the muscle. However, what I was doing was working and I truly enjoyed it. There was a very intense spiritual side to things. Being in and around nature. Seeing the beauty from a different POV. And the PR's were key. The first time I hit Runyon when I first moved to LA, I couldn't get up the first set of stairs. Total fatboy shit. But after jamming TOOL and saying fawk it, I managed to beat it. Then enjoy it. Then love it. Then own it. I fell deeply in love with Runyon, with walking, hiking, just being outside and embracing that culture. I posted pics and vids of my progression all over social media. Talked and texted with people. I was so damn proud of myself because me, Trevor, no one else was out there putting in the work, every day, all day, making it happen.

And then the haters came to play.

At first it was a strange comment about being broke and what not. It eventually grew into me having a cocaine addiction and it kind of spiraled out of control from there. I was even questioned by my own mother who was worried about me. Rest assured, I showed her pics and vids of my hard work. Spoke with her and explained to her what I was doing was not manageable by a lot of people. She felt relieved, but I didn't. I wasn't upset or even mad, I was thrown off guard that "they" were creating rumors about someone they don't see or interact with and then tried to convince others it was true. I kept quiet or as they say, I took the high road. I didn't feel it was worth it to confront such a ridiculous story. So I just kept hiking, I kept working out, I kept at it. I held my head up high and didn't stop. And it felt good. Better than ever. I was able to defeat my inner self-doubt and even the constant stories that kept coming at me. It felt better than ever to know I can beat em all by just focusing on the goal.

I can't wait to get back to Runyon. To LA. To that world and lifestyle. Indulging in my art everyday. Not giving a shit about anything but killing it everyday, all day, in every kind of way. And when I say "killing it" I don't just mean like being the biggest guy in the gym, fastest guy on the canyon, fattest guy in line at In N Out.

I mean killin it as in, putting it to rest and walking away for good.

Runyon here I come!

8 Types of Kraze Girls You'll Date Before You Meet "The One"

By Trevor A. Keveloh

(Preface)

I recently read an article titled... 8 Types of Crazy Guys You'll Date Before You Meet "The One." It was funny, it was true, it was thought-provoking, and it was just plain entertaining. I tried to figure out a term to call these ever-so witty ONLINE articles aka BLOGS (just like this one) that seem to group everyone into some category and all I can think of is something like, "specific generalization." We are basically just taking the most basic types of people we meet, placing them in a category that suits them best, then just ragging on them until no extent because those people have become our exes and it seems like we just can't play nice anymore with exes, so we all have to LIKE and SHARE all the blogs that pertain to that shit. Like this one...

So in the good spirit of humor, parodies, social commentary and of course, dating, I give you...

8 Types of KRAZE Girls You'll Date Before You Meet "The One"

1. THE HAWT CHIC WHO'S SELFIE COUNT IS HIGHER THAN HER IQ

   I get it, you are hawt, you have a toned body, you "model" on social media, you have nice implants, or a really killer bra, you eat healthy, you wear mounds of make up and every boyfriend you've ever had in your life is a John Cena lookalike. We get it, we do, you are very attractive to the still norms of society, however you aren' just all there upstairs. It's OK though, you can still take the tilted-hat-on-"messy hair"-paint-rolled-on-makeup gym selfie with your tanned as fawk abs showing and that killer cleavage but you still can't tell me who The Rothchilds are, who's buried in Grant's Tomb, when the was of 1812 was and still have a hard time spelling...a lot of shit. But don't worry, you got this my lil selfie-princess, you got this, you'll get knocked up by the right guy who will take care of ya whether or not you marry him or just take half of whatever it is he has, or had.

2. THE GIRL THAT CONSTANTLY TRIES TO IMPRESS YOU WITH EVERYTHING

   This lil overzealous princess who thinks she is a queen is going to constantly remind you everything she has accomplished in her life. Whether it be her degree in business, masters in business, doctrines in business or just letting you know all of her business. Shes going to attempt to woo you with everything she's seen, done, places shes visited, people shes "met" (aka seen at an airport or bar) expensive wines shes tasted, boats shes partied on (did tons of blow on with some dealer.) Shes going to run around town acting like she knows everything and everyone and chances are, she isn't even from that town but is so gawddamn in peoples faces and tosses her money around like Mayweather in Vegas after a big win that people just "like" her because she spends money. She'll do fine in this life once over the hill princess hits 50 and realizes it's time to chill out and just marry some guy who will always look up to her like she's Cleopatra.

3. THE GIRL THAT'S GREAT BUT JUST FAWKED THA FAWK UP

   The chic is basically a cubic zirconia. She's going to shine bright like a diamond, but in reality we now know that diamonds don't shine, they reflect, so when the light hits, she won't be shining bright, she'll be reflecting her fawked up insides that will make you run or stay and get WAY too fawkn close. She may be a stripper, may be a bartender, she may be an accountant, she may be a lawyer, but whatever she is, she is going to initially unload some sock drawers of bullshit, or some not so subtle hints about her past. Then when you get too close she's going to drop the bombs on you like the game 1942 and you are going to eat that shit or run like hell. The guys that eat that shit, will be getting every sob story known to humans about how bad her exes were, her parents were, and in all, her general life is/was/whatever. But don't worry by dear princess, you will find a guy with a heart of gold who's dumb as shit who can just constantly swallow your pill of victimizing and live long and prosperous. 

4. THE SHORT-TERM DATER 

   This chic is usually going to be above average looking to hawt. Chances are she's had one, MAYBE two relationships that have last more than a few months and her excuse will always be about him and never about her. He was too broke. He was too nice. He was too mean. He was full of himself. Everything she says about him will be vaguely true but there will be a lot more to the story. She's the girl that's got about 12-20 guys deep on her phone, most likely coded, guys on her social media that are "her friends," that she always has waiting in the wings to "take her out and treat her like a lady" and all that good stuff. But she's going to jump from guy to guy, usually who is hotter and has more to offer (ah HEEEM, money) and most importantly, who she looks good with on instagram. But we know this princess will marry a great catch, or just some guy who has enough patience and ignorance to never know she still has her eye open for the next.

5. THE GIRL THAT WANTS IT ALL NOW

   This is usually the girl that we meet and she seems really cool and down to earth right away, no bullshit, maybe even has a lot of guy like qualities. But it will turn into a pseudo-fatal attraction quickly if you don't watch out. After a few weeks of dating (fawkn) she may start leaving her toothbrush over, may start leaving her shit all over your place, texts late, texts early, texts all day and night, stopping by your work or even talk about kids and/or marriage with you a few weeks after the first insertion of your penis into her vagina. Maybe she'll even want to merge bank accounts before you two have even become official because that way she knows what you're spending and where. All her sights are set on are marriage, house, kids and all that shit that's been drilled down her throat. She forgot about the fun shit in life like love, exploring, adult arguing and adult make up sex. But this princess WILL find a guy, that's a promise. There are plenty of guys that need a girl like this to keep them in line, or are just like them and are expected to OBEY the American Dream. 

6. THE WHORE

   We all love this treat, all of do. Girls LOVE this one because they absofawknloootly DESTROY her for being promiscuous and it seems like EVERY girl out there LOVES to dog the whore. Guys love her because, well, she likes to fawk and guys are a bit more open to sleeping around and being open about it than girls, still to this day. (Which is really strange in this day in age, but that's for another blog.) The whore is obviously going to use sex to find love, but chances are, she's really just using sex to fill a void in her life, (easily daddy issues, but could be more) or holy shit, maybe she just likes to have sex with men and conquer them like guys do to girls? I mean, mathematically it's not like one girl is banging every guy, but this girl is. She's going to seduce you, she's probably really hawt, or sexy or just knows how to toy with you. Chances are she's not even that interested in dating you, just fawkn you and having fun. She's probably going to be cool too, maybe a little conceited, who knows, but she doesn't plan on closing up shop anytime soon. And you may even try and date her because the sex is great and/or often, but it wont last cuz deep down inside she wants love and this princess will find it with a really nice guy who just doesn't give a fawk about her past and you do.

7. THE DADDY'S GIRL

   O lordy, do we ALL know this girl. She's going to be attached to her dad forever. He's going to support her no matter what and no guy will ever be good enough for his lil girl who prolly banged the second team receivers core at a killer party sophomore year of college. She's going to expect you to take care of her like Daddy IS whether you know it or not. She may even be as weird as making you dishcloth her before sex or something strange like that.. Her co-dependency is going to be cute at first, then annoying, then awful, then just flat out destructive. She'll never know how to do or deal with shit because Daddy Warbucks was always there to do it for her. She's going to have some qualities that initially attract you to her like she enjoys sports or drinks beer or likes video games. Then it will all stop because her dad will try to disown her and she doesn't want to make daddy mad, so she'll leave you and go back to daddy and find another sucker for a while. Ole princess will find a guy one day that will be WAY too much like her dad and he may never realize it, but that's going to be the one she marries. It's OK though, it's just kreepy as fawk. 

8. THE SWEETHEART

   This girl has been a victim her entire life. I'm telling you EVERY guy she's ever dated has, "fawked her over," in some way or another. They prolly "borrowed money and never paid her back," slept with plenty of guys too soon, blew some guy in Tha Lawdge shitter, or what may have you, but when it boils down to it, she's using her above average looks, initially good personality and constantly relating to you to try and reel you in. She's going to be a good person, trust me, a sweetie, but she's using the game to get something. Maybe money, pregnant, or empathetic love. She's also the one on dating sites that, "isn't here for games," or, "isn't here for one night stands," because she plays plenty of games, just not overtly and has banged plenty of doods and feels guilty, so she needs to address that quickly. But it's OK buttercup, my lil princess, you'll find that special someone that will love you for you and never judge you for all those crazy nights of guys, "fawkn you over," after you leave their apartment in the morning.

Carry On My Wayward Son

By Trevor A. Keveloh

I've been doing a lot of "soul searching" and realizing who I am as a person, friend, ex, son, brother but most importantly, human. Something I've discovered that is strikingly intricate to making amends with people is a combination of purpose and outcome.
If you are making amends with someone, or even, something, and your purpose is to, in a sense "clean your karma/soul up," then I believe it will be helpful in your journey through life. If your intentions of cleaning up your shit are in anyway malicious or intent for pursuing something unethical, beware that some shit might come back at you and take a dump on your chest-life. I have personally made amends with a number of people in the past 6 months that meant a lot to me over my X amount of years on this beautiful planet known as Earth. Almost all of those people have reciprocated positively and I truly feel that I am cleaning up most of my unwanted bad juju from my past. Granted there is plenty more some of you readers may be thinking about, but the fact of the matter is this. No one, no one at all lead me to this epiphany/revelation. This was something I figured out on my own, alone, while studying myself from my past, present and moving forward. I kind of just felt vibes and picked up on whatever it was telling me to go forward with an open heart and forgive what has been done, but especially, own up to what I have done.

And I did.

The outcome of making amends can stem from simply purging your shit, getting the corn off your chest or on the more serious side, trying to re-establish a relationship with that person or thing you once broke from. Some readers may be questioning some of my amends, your own, or not knowing what in the FAWK I am talking about. If you are picking up what I am dropping, continue to read this. If you haven't a clue, ask me or someone or just read this because you are this far and who quits this far, seriously, don't quit on me now ese! Anyways, If you are simply looking for some sort of closure from making amends, don't expect that person to give that to you. Sometimes the closure you seek, you've always had, you just needed to get some corn off your chest and communicate it to someone. Not everyone is strong enough, smart enough or ready for accepting that kind of communication from someone or something whom they've had some shit with. And at other times, more deep shit, maybe that amends you are making is the Gods of life telling you that person who are connecting too, need it as well. Maybe they aren't strong enough to call, text, email, myspace message you and express themselves. So the good lord or Allah or Buddha or L.Ron find their way of connecting you to them. You have a dream, vision, come to Jesus moment and you "reach out" (I hate that term but it's become more understandable because of the human element behind it) to that person. Some may think you are trying to get into their pants, some may think you are just bored, some may actually understand the way the world works with energy and shit. But either way, it's up to you to communicate your shit to them, give them the best understandings of your part and move onward, peacefully, with love in your heart. Because when that shit starts to happen, when you open up that wound that you carry around like a mini-martyr birthday cake and you let it go, you feel something special come over you. Something you can't quite describe, but something you feel and internalize. And it's for you, it's a gift from whatever you believe in, for you and only you. And it's wonderful...
Spread the love. Ask someone out for lunch. Reach out and touch someone. Give em a (mouth) hug.

Oscars So...

By Trevor A. Keveloh

Well... After a few weeks of talking about this with a very wide variety of people, I decided it was time to weigh in on this subject with the most appropriate way I personally can...A good ole blog.

#OscarsSoWhite is a cute and catchy #hashtag that got trending quickly and is still trending. With topics like these, I enjoy speaking with any and everyone I can just to get a better understanding of what people REALLY think based on the information given...And that my friends is where I am eventually going to try and make my mark on this. 

The three most "popular" people to initiate and vocalize their opinions of the Oscars this year are Spike Lee, Will Smith and Jada Smith. Spike Lee wrote and directed the film, "Chiraq." Will Smith was in the film, "Concussion." I will say this, I haven't seen either film so I cannot comment on their performances. I plan too soon. My opinion on this subject thus far is this. Ego (When I see these films, I COULD write another blog stating they got a snub.)

Both men are in separate films that they believe, in their heads and hearts, deserved an Oscar nod. They did not receive one. However good, bad, great or horrible these films are, I truly believe that the ego is what made them stand up and call for a bias within the academy.

So on the topic of the academy, I have to say that it's most likely like any conglomerate corporation where it's, "owned and run by a bunch of old white guys." The irony is, Hollywood is a place that is suppose to be very, open minded, liberal, steering away from old thoughts and steering into the direction of new thoughts, constantly, every day. It's a city of art, progression, and everything else pseudo-60's.

Apparently not if these guys and whoever else have jumped onto the bandwagon #OscarsSoWhite

My overall opinion has NOTHING to do with the Oscars, it has to do with the same exact fawkn recipe any and every issue begins with. The foundation. 

I am a working actor with my hands in on some writing and production projects at this time. Everyday I get sent dozens and up to hundreds of casting calls for actors and guess what, everyone, EVERYONE is looking for a particular "type" in virtually every casting call.

The initial issue begins with the vision of writers, directors, producers, casting directors and so on. How come more unattractive people aren't on the cover of magazines? How come all the A-List celebs have sex appeal, great teeth, hair, etc? How come if you are chubby and funny, you will NEVER be a leading man in a heart throbbing way? How come most casting calls looks for "Caucasian male, 6ft-6'2, 175lbs, nice body, nice teeth, VERY attractive?" 

It's because that's what we are programmed to like and look for, that's why. Every once in a while someone comes along and WOOES us with something other than looks or laugh, someone who breaks all barriers and is just outstanding at their craft. Someone who isn't a chubby funny guy or a hot chiseled guy.

But that's "every so often." I got into a great discussion with a friend who is Mexican and quite Liberal and I made the comment that people of other races outside of Caucasian need to "work harder," at making their films Oscar worthy. The quote was taken the wrong way (after a few Jameson's, A LOT of shit can be taken wrong) and what I meant was this. Caucasian people are the majority in most films because, well, its the majority of the race. If we keep focusing on race, we will never break out of that shell of thinking. When I told him other races needed to "work harder" as far as films go, I meant they actually HAVE to work harder, not "go work harder because the color of your skin." If you want to stand out from the rest, don't complain on social media about injustice, don't call for a race card. Go be active, go make a film that's fawkn KILLER and you see past the skin color,  make people forget you are Black, White, Mexican, Asian. Mid-Eastern, etc. Make a film that doesn't have the "token black guy that happens to me the police sergeant that yells all the time." Go against the grain. Stand out!

The Oscars are about film, which is my favorite art form. It should never ever ever be about color, ever. Maybe content, but never color. Art is art, it's beautiful, it's COLORFUL, it's hurtful and it's helpful. We all escape to some art form daily, weekly, monthly, etc. It should never be about color unless we are PHYSICALLY using that color to depict a feeling or trying to communicate something to the viewer. 

That's the only way color should be used in art...

Now jump over here to this...

My FAVORITE film of the year was, "Straight Outta Compton," mainly because that was the beginning of my era of music. That film was incredible in every capacity and I do think it got snubbed for a best picture nod because a film like, "Mad Max: Fury Road," got a nod. I have never been a big fan of action flicks unless they have a great storyline, which Mad Max did. However, SOC was just an incredible film and true depiction of the rise of the most innovative rap group in the history of music. Acting wise, those 4 guys were just outstanding. And that's where I felt it hurt itself. 4 great acting performances in a leading role. It was very difficult to chose the best out of those 4. But seeing all the Oscar nods for Mad Max, I can understand the frustration of some filmmakers. Then I jump over to Michael B. Jordan in "Creed." I loved the film, but before all this hoopla about the racism, I wasn't wooed out of my panties by Jordan's performance. The guy did an a great great job, but I just didn't buy quite a few of his scenes. Sly on the other hand, fawkn CRUSHED it, but it's not fair to compare those two. 

So what I'm trying to say here since I've gone on a few coffee induced tangents in this. The bottom end of Hollywood, the foundation, that is where things need to change, not the top with the ego-driven people who think their art is the best. If you want TRUE change, cast an unattractive man or woman in a leading role. Cast a black guy in a role a white guy was initially designed for. Take a chance on a new face going in for something. Instead of wanting a "Caucasian male, 25-30, 6ft-6'2, fit, VERY attractive," try casting some guy that can act that's... "30's, 5'9, 220, fangy teeth, attractive and blue eyes."

Hey Hollywood, you might be surprised if you open yourself up to new things!

The Story of Roosevelt Collins (unfinished)

By Trevor A. Keveloh

O, o, what a story this is my dear friends, ladies and gentlemen, people of all ages (kind of, not really, more so like mature without an age discrimination; fuck could be said) here we have a wonderful, fabulous, sexy and sweet story about none other than Roosevelt Collins. 

Who's Roosevelt Collins you ask?

Well, let me tell you where and how the story begins. 

Roosevelt Collins, or as we call him, Roose, is a tale, a story, an epic journey about the life of a man who was once seductive, classy a true gentleman and ladies man, who fell victim to the whores of life, the addictions of hate and greed, the awfulness of being a shitbag, but then who eventually saw the light and began to erase his inner demons and find the light again.

Roose was born into a nice family, a large family, with many siblings ranging older and younger. Roose was special because in his home, he was the only child with blue eyes. When he was born, his mother and father looked at him, deep into his eyes and knew he was special and not the special where he needs help putting his shoes on, but the special where he would change peoples lives forever.

We are going to start this tale when Roose was 17. He was in school and had a revelation about life, women, the world around him, work and even the most prolific way to eat and enjoy movie theater popcorn.  His epiphany was based on the morals he had for himself and the people around him. He fought for what he thought was right, was good, was positive and denounced anything that was hurtful, that was harmful, that negatively effected people. He took that knowledge, that change, that charisma and he used it in the best possible ways, especially with women.

He was known to woo them with love, affection, flowers, gifts, pure sincere honesty. Whether it was a lady of the night, a random bang during a vacation, a girl he laid with for a while or even a steady fuck or eventual girlfriend, he wooed them with everything and anything they wanted in their time together. Roose was always a gentleman in some way or another and this ultimately laid groundwork for what would eventually be a destruction of his life.

Roose spent the next several years as a nomad traveling from city to city, town to town and wooing women of all races, colors, creeds and hairstyles. When Roose was in the desert he came across a group of men who were more like savages than gentleman. The problem was they all looked more than just appealing to women, they acted appealing, they came off like true gentlemen, but they were all savagely whorebags who preyed on late night activities to seduce these women. Roose fell under their spell and his life changed. 

Roose spent the next several years as a savage and became destructive towards himself and others. His attitude had changed for the worse thinking that any and every time he would go out gallivanting thru the night, he wanted to lay with a hussy and leave before she woke. He no longer wooed women, he no longer kissed them deeply and passionately, he no longer left "it" in them to feel the explosion. The attitude that he became was one that left women wanting more, but not from him. He left a not to lasting impression in all of these women, a sexual adventure to say the least, but morally just shitty. 

Then one day he met a girl that would change it all.

Her name was Delilah and she was the most beautiful, elegant, intense woman he had ever laid eyes on. She and long thick flowing brown hair that would move like a prize pony anytime she walked. She had the most imperfectly perfect body he had ever seen, she dressed as if she was always going somewhere important and had the courage and confidence of a queen. He saw her and HAD to talk to her and did. He approached her with a walk, talk, step and halfy. 

She denied him because she knew he was kind of a fuckhead and he knew that.

Roose felt as if this was "the one," and he did everything in his power to try and convince her that he was no longer like that and wanted to change, be a better man, not so slimy and shit. So instead of working to try and win the heart of Delilah, he worked on himself. He began pushing tin, he began meditating, praying, speaking with the Gods, he began to be reborn, minus all the gooey placenta and shit. He began to learn about himself internally rather than externally and decided that he would leave for a "Hajj to purity." 

Roose took a boat to a giant island off the coast that was a highly populated place for people that were both spiritual and kind of fucked up. It was where lost souls went to lose themselves and then gain themselves. It was a place of absolutely no judgement at all and if you were ever caught judging, you would be banned from the "Isle of Truth," for good, shipped off to the mainland. 

Roose became one with them. He learned more about himself in that time that he had ever in his entire life. He shook the hands of godlike men, he kissed the foreheads of newborn babies, he learned to play the harmonica and would preform 5 nights a week for the locals. Roose started to become not the man he once was, but the man that he always wanted to be. The women of the Isle feel deeply in love with him, but Roose was unable to bring himself to inserting his TOOL into them, he couldn't, he was saving himself for Delilah and didn't want the comfort of the women to tarnish his focus and goals. Sometimes too much vagina can do that to a man.So he kept his baby batter, his heart, his mind and his spirit intact and continued to fix, recreate and rebuild himself.

After he felt the time was right, he took a boat back to the mainland and scoured the land for Delilah. After months and months of searching for her, he found her, in a home, with a husband and family. He looked through her window and saw how happy she was, running around chasing 4 shitty little brats and cooked for a husband who treated her well, not that great, but enough for her to forget about Roose, to a certain degree. Roose watched and a tear drop, one single teardrop rolled down his cheek, onto his hand, slithering like a worm during a storm, onto his shoe and to the ground. He looked at the teardrop and began to cry. He sobbed, he fell to his knees and asked the Gods, "why, why me, why her, why HIM?" 

Roose felt awakened after that. Something woke up a part of him that he had never known. He had a discovery that was larger than life, this was more than an epiphany, this was the most incredible life changing event he could ever imagine. Roose knew what he had to do. So he set out to cross the land alone to start over.

To Be Continued...

What is YOUR Spirit Animal?

I had recently wrote a detailed description of the meanings behind spirit animals and as promised, I am writing the 2nd edition to it.
When figuring out your spirit animal and how it represents you, there is a very methodical and scientific way that is virtually flawless. Most people are within a 10 animal category but on occasion, a few slip thru the cracks which I have recently discovered and this has opened up the floodgates considerably. As I continue my intercontinental research on the subject, I will give you the first edition of...
"What Is YOUR Spirit Animal?"

0...
Italian Stallion:
The Italian Stallion is a creature that was first seen in the 1970's and depicted in a number of ways. You may not be very intelligent, you may actually be pretty dumb, but you have a really great heart and may be on the short side. You have a problem speaking outside of the standard skills of someone from a third world country but you have brute physical force. The best careers for you have little or nothing to do with communicating to humans and would be best fit as an expendable, dancer or washroom attendant back up.

1...
Mother Fucker:
The Mother Fucker is a very very VERY special creature in the sense that it doesn't always just fuck mothers, but it's been known to actually mother fuck a situation, person, tree, animal, event or in the strangest of cases, it actually can mother fuck a mother fucker. Mother fuckers are destined for greatness, but don't always go about it in the traditional style, sometimes they mother fuck their way in and out of unfortunate situations and sometimes they mother fuck their way into your life. Mother fuckers have the best careers in recruiting, sales, ushers at movie theaters, bartenders, bar managers, but most obvious, entertainers.

2...
Armenian Snow Leopard:
The beautiful and delicate animal is something that you may never encounter ever, ever, ever in your frivolous life. This nomadic being is one that depicts the uncertainty of your everyday life. You aren't always sure if you really wanna "do it," so sometimes you just do it and deal with the consequences later. Armenian snow leopards are often seen as not much of a threat to the average person, but can have a wicked temper and short fuse if pushed into a corner or bent over an afterhours bathroom sink. They are generally GOOD people but sometimes can be a bit on the hoey side. The careers that best fit them would be something in the line of mechanics, dealers, Starbucks regulars, bros, or floral decor person.

3...
Pooja:
The Pooja, ooooo the Pooja, it's kind of like a Koala bear yet nothing like it at all, in the sense that it thinks it knows everything yet knows nothing. The pooja is someone who is usually found scouring the Internet for WEBMD facts in order to strengthen their case on a debate about something they know little or nothing about. They use Google as their main weapon of attack and also use "life experiences" as a way to explain something they know nothing about. Poojas can be very sincere, honest and nice but have a deadly knife ready to attack at anytime, they are like those savages from that Daniel Day Lewis flick where is is yelling "I will find you," in the rain n shit. Poojas best careers paths are ones where they have to do as little work as possible and can talk a lot and do a little.

4...
Detective Chewy:
These are the animals that most people would say are, "just fawkn weird." You can always point one out in a crowd because they will most likely be wearing one of those big stupid hats that don't look cool on anyone, male or female or tranny. They are a bit on the creative bright side, but a bit on the dumb side when it comes to being socially stable. You can find them in shitty bookstores, walking around chewing on hay, or if you think you are one, you probably don't think you are one, but numbers don't lie and if you are a 4, you are a Detective Chewy. These people are best in the careers of not fashion, bridge club members, cigar rollers and
Birkenstock sales and manufactures.

5...
Kitten:
I love kittens, I love all of them, if you are a kitten, I will love you and love you forever. Kittens are magical lil fawkers who are usually under the height of 5'5 and have dark hair and tattoos of kittens or motorcycles or even tattoos of tattoos. Kittens like to be held, fed milk and played with a lot, but when they are done with you, they are done with you and I mean that in both the figurative and literal sense. Kittens are often found playing a lot listening to Bobby Rayburn while they sip Drambuie from a authentic 1950's snifter. Their best career paths are typically in anything relating to Frank, helping kids, feeding animals or pretending to be someone they are not, sometimes even being someone they are not for an extended amount of time.

6...
Chon Chon:
If your spirit animal is the delicious chon chon, I must meat you. Chon chons are usually of Mexican descent and are usually fun and neat people. You have a tendency to be very chon chony and have a strong way of yelling, "toot toot," or, "bomba," or even, "keeechen clozd ese." If you are one, you may also be a fan of Barbara Streisand or Winnie The Pooh. You have a strong liking for the arts of paper making as well, or even an interest in machetes n shit. Your best career paths are pilots, engineers, flight simulator creators, java developers and on special occasions, cement mixers.

7...
Gumby:
If you are a Gumby, you are most likely a decent person. You may lack some basic skills of choosing the right things to do at the right moments, but you'll always have a sidekick pony around to deter you from going to far into a bad choice. You are delicate, nurturing, strong, weak, hopeless, hopeful, peaceful and war minded. You may not always been green, but you may sometimes be green. You may even be an off green, but that's because you got left out in the sun too long. If you end up being a 7, just look at the bright side, at least you are still alive, even if you are dead inside. Your best career choices are, I really don't know, you guys are really hard to read and sometimes I think you are reptilian people like Obama.

8...
Summer:
If you are an 8, you are probably pretty hot as a person. You take life serious but at the same time you take life not so serious, like you know how to have fun n shit. You are a good worker and deserve hugs but sometimes you get tired and need to sleep. Sexy eyes and a smile go along with your typical physical trait and that stems from whats going on upstairs. You like to read blogs or maybe you don't. I haven't really figured it out because I actually have no clue what I'm talking about but that doesn't matter because what I am saying is factual. Summer breeze, makes me feel fine. The best career choices for you are a cook not a chef, a woodsman, builder of some sort, brain surgeon or princess.

9...
Subotai:
The ole Subotai, not to be confused with subway or sub o rotten or Jared. This lil fawker is a good one. Sneaky you are, fast you are, committed you are, loyal you are. You may carry a bow and arrow set and wear pelt skins instead of clothes. You enjoy hiking, checkers, craps and pisses. You are enthusiastic about jumping off buildings but you may be scared of a lil wind, even the ones you break. You are good natured and have a strong soul but sometimes you get out of hand with your liquor and that could be because you are a drunk and cant handle your shit. The best career choices for you are a governor, dictator, potato farmer, polisher, mean streets quoter or belly ring installer.

10...
Bonus:
If you are a 10, well shit, you are a fawkn dime and a bonus at the same time, you like Jonas and Busta Rhymes, coming out like the LA Times. Fast and hard, with no lard, skinny and sexy driving a lexy. Gimmie dat ass, or eat my grass, live and let live, or live and let die, either way, we are gonna get high, on someone else's supply and do a drive by, shooting bullets of hotness into houses of loneliness, like two dope boys in a Cadillac, matter of fact, get yourself a dime this time and quit committing the ultimate crime, of killing time.

That's about it. I'm kind of hungry and want to save energy for my third edition of this. If you are having a hard time trying to figure out which number you are, just read them all again, whichever one you like the most, that's probably you and if your number doesn't match to it, that's ok because you can always work towards what you want in life, even if it's not your designated number, but what you truly feel is..
YOUR Spirit Animal...

Spirit Animal Meanings

Spirit Animal Meanings

By Trevor A. Keveloh

There are many different meanings when seeing an animal randomly, in a dream or an animal that isn’t typically in the area in which you saw it. Sometimes that animal just wants to go play, eat or fawk. Maybe that animal had a job interview or maybe that animal got all fawked up and ended up in the wrong hood after a long night of boozing and smoking. Here is some insight on the meanings behind seeing certain animals and what they represent…

Walrus:

If you see a walrus in the ocean, it’s probably because it lives there. If you see it in the zoo, it’s probably now a prisoner to humans because it lost a bet or maybe it’s just a bad walrus. If you see one in your dream, I really don’t know, I mean who dreams of a walrus often? If you see one on land or like in a strange place, you are probably smoking some really wicked shit that could be laced with something like paint thinner.

Grizzly Bear:

If you see a grizzly bear it’s probably because you are at the zoo or in an area where you typically see them. If you see one in a place it shouldn’t be, like your house or the park or somewhere like that, it’s probably a sign you should get the fawk out of there and call a park ranger.

Black Bear:

Why’s it gotta be a BLACK bear? Why can’t it just be a BEAR?!?! Fawkn racists!           

Deer:

If you are seeing a lot of deer it’s because deer are around a lot. If you dream about a dear its maybe cuz you were thinking or talking about them recently and your brain is resting and shit.

Dolphin:

If you see a dolphin in your dream it’s because dolphins are cool and they communicate with humans in the dream world. If you see one at the park or hiking, it’s probably lost and needs help getting home. Be a good neighbor and help out a dolphin, “help a dolphin out,” n shit.

Anaconda:

If you see an anaconda out and about, hopefully you are in South America or some shit because they really don’t just go out and about. The anaconda represents a giant ass snake and also represents every girl with a big ass. If you dream about and anaconda it could be because it don’t want none unless you got buns hun.

Flying Chilean Monkey:

If you see one of these, I gotta know. Hit me up!

Turtle:

If you see a turtle out in nature, it’s probably because they live all over and shit. If you dream about one the reason is because turtles are pretty cool. I mean they don’t represent anything hugely amazing, they are slow and cute and harmless, they are basically like pet rocks that can swim that you have to feed and occasionally change their litter box.

Cagle:

If you are reading this, email me back you shithead.

Dutch Lion:

These are a very interesting breed of lions mainly because they don’t actually exist. If you see one on the sidewalk or something, Id get a gun and shoot it or get a box, 2 by 4 and a slab of meat and try to catch it. If you dream about one, it means a fortune is coming your way and you should go play some scratch offs.

Jive Turkey:

If you see a Jive Turkey in the wild, watch out for it, it could be trying to hustle you. If you dream of one, it’s because you are watching a lot of Blaxplotation movies. IF you see one just chilling or walking around, don’t bum it a smoke.

Armenian Race Car Driver:

If you see one, it’s probably your uber/lyft driver. If you dream of one, well that’s weird but my guess is because you have been using those services a lot and your brain has nothing else to do other than dream about your driver.

Cat:

If you see a cat or cats it’s prolly cuz cats are common. If a black one crosses your path it’s because it’s a cat and had somewhere to go, BUT they could also mean bad luck. I’m really not sure on this one. If you dream of a cat or “cats” it’s prolly cuz they are cool, or “cool as a cat,” and you should wake up and kiss your kitty.

Pigeon:

If you see a pigeon, GET THE FAWK OUTTA THERE. If you dream of a pigeon, it’s because you were watching a bio on Tyson and he had pet pigeons. If you meet one and it’s nice, well I dunno, stir up a convo and find out whets up.

Chia Pet:

If you see one in the wild, take a picture and make sure to put it on instagram. If you see one in your dream, it’s a sign that you are asleep and dreaming. If you see one cross a busy street, keep and eye on it so it doesn’t get hit by a car.

Bunny:

If you see a bunny in the wild, leave it alone. If you dream about a bunny or “bunnies,” hopefully it’s the Playboy bunnies are you are smashing them.

That’s all I got for now. Part 2 and/or the extended version will be up in a few days.

How To Properly Eat Pussy

FILTH’s Survival Guide

Edition #24

How To Properly Eat Pussy

By Trevor A. Keveloh

Well my friends, lately I’ve been writing some things that aren’t in the realm of FILTH, so here is something to bring you back to the good ole days…

The proper technique of eating pussy can vary from state to state, country to country and so on. Some people enjoy the good ole fashioned, shove your tongue in there and let that bad boy do the work. Some people prefer the teeth, tongue combo which can be a tricky bitch. And some people go all in, Texas Hold Em Style and get their fingers, knuckles, palms, and elbows in that bitch.

Personally I’m a fan of the whole Trivago. That’s the name I’m giving it, “The Whole Trivago.” It’s basically a hybrid of the last one and some of my own personal style I’ve gained since that sweet poon I devoured in high school.

First and foremost, eating the poon isn’t about you, it’s about HER. You need to find out what makes her tick, and I’m talking not just getting her lady-finger hard, but upstairs. Women are delicate creates which is why they often stray away from dick. Some men can’t really get in tune with the poonanny, they just wanna hit it and quit it without really getting to know the terrain. Ya gotta step up and really do the due diligence of really getting to know the entire vajayjay. Not just getting hard off of vodka-monsters and cramming your dick in her, shooting a sad load then ubering home. If you really wana make an impact on that lil vixen, here the basics on “The Whole Trivago.”

First things first, make sure her mind/brain is with it. There aint nuttin worse than chic who jus aint lookin to get some head, so be a good neighbor and check on her mental status. Secondly, make sure she’s comfy, ya know clothes, music, candles n shit. Third, throw her a bone, no not your dick, maybe pop in a DVD/Netflix of a Channing Tatum flick, maybe ole Brad Pitt or Cooper, or if she’s fun and kinky, get some of that Orange New Black chic Amber Rose or whatever tha fawk her name is. Ok, enough of the number thing, I’m just going to blabber on and hopefully you can keep up with me. So she’s feeling good, music is dope, nice scent going, got some good visuals in front of her. So you scoot your ass downtown and slowly take off those adorable panties she’s sporting. Maybe they are baby blue, maybe a lil pink ya know, like Vic Secrets, hell maybe even a nice sexy bright red, yea, summin like that. So remove those bastards all slow and sexy. Use your tongue, teeth, tease them a lil ya know, have fun with them, but not too much fun. We don’t want to keep the kitty waiting too long, kitty’s can get turned off too quick. Ok, so you got those lil fawkerz off, next thing you do is you tease that lil pooner. Blow at it, kiss it, give her a lick or two, hell maybe even THREE licks, just to get that snacthareno nice and excited. So what you do is take your index finger and slowly put it on the hood of her vag and then take your thumb and slowly drag it down the gina then twist it so it’s parallel with her vag and your hand will now look like you are kind of representing the Crypts. Now most people will go in there and just chow down like a Vegas buffet, which is a no no. You want to go in there like you are a pro and diving into that opening of delight like a fawkn Neanderthal aint gonna cut it. So what you do instead is you get your nose in there and you rub it around a lil, get your senses involved, make cute lil faces at that vag, smile at it, you can even give it a lil pep talk like, “hey you. I just wanna let you know I’m kummin in. I’ll leave my dickhead friend downstairs, but I think were gonna have a really good time tonight. Here goes sweetie poo.” Then you get that nose in there, rub it around like I said, then tease her a lil. And people, make sure you are listening to both her body and noises because if neither are communicating anything to you, you are prolly fawkn this up and that sucks. So back to the nose, now we get Mr. T out. He is our key to this whole ordeal, obviously. Now let him go in slow and strong, never fast and hard, that’s for Big Daddy Byron who isn’t invited to this party. Give that precious piece of flesh a few flicks from Mr.T, nothing too porn like, just some fun flicks to let her know he likes to play a lil too. Once you get those few lickflicks in there, its time to switch it up. Now most amateurs use the alphabet routine, which most girls know about and is simple. I often use something like it but way different. I like to use the “Have You Ever Been To Heaven” routine. It’s pretty much talking to that poon using a lot of words that have distinctive tongue usage. It’s a combo of knowing solid words to get that lil fleshy nice and wet and improving on the spot. Do some homework, get some words in your arsenal, then go to town. What I like to do is memorize an entire monologue I wrote using a lot of tonguey words. Once you get that all set and ready, time to throw it down. So you have your thumb on the bottom, index finger on her hood and you are doing your tonguey monologue. If that isn’t getting her nice and drippy, you are either doing it wrong or you are giving an old pumpkin head because this entire process, “The Whole Trivago” is LITerally 100% effective, its even been known to make dead women wet! So we got that going and some of you are like, “wait wait, what about clitty town?” Ooooo ladies, don’t you worry, Id never forget about the most celebrated guest to the party. Once your eater is on a roll, this person MUST make sure you are oozing and ready to shit yourself. So with that in mind, slowly take out your tongue and throw your nose back in there like Cinderella slipping her foot in the shoe. Or was it Dorothy? Whoever tha fawk it was, do that shit and get the nose back in there. Once the special no no place is oozing with yumyums of liquid goodness, bring the nose to the hood and pull him out and right as you do that, whip Mr.T out and let him go to work upstairs, have him knock on Ms.Clittys door and I’m sure she’ll let him in, that’s only if you followed these rules and did some of your own homework! So Ms.Clitty lets Mr.T in and well, remember, she’s the most precious pearl in all the sea, so be gentle with her, but never TOO gentle, you want her to know you are there to have fun AND do a job. So once you are in, give her a lil kiss, just a lil one, a cute one, nothing too weird or heavy, more than a peck, less than a mouth rape. Then we begin to serenade Ms.Clitty with our homework again. Get Mr.T ready for the finals and get allllll those words, that monologue, everything because this is 4^th and goal on the 1yard line and they have a stacked D. Make sure to keep your index finger and thumb in place, but always make sure to have them moving, rotate them a bit, kind of like just keeping them warm ya know, they are assistants, they are like bussers or barbacks, here to help the bartenders and servers. Funny thing is, when all this is going on, we have a few more players waiting on the sidelines, so lets get them involved. When you are entertaining Ms.Clitty with Mr.T get some of your bench squad a lil action. Sub in and out if you need too, ya know if your index and thumb are showing fatigue, get the others in there. It’ll definitely make things easier and better! So now that we have the entire team involved, everyone is happy, Ms.Clitty and Mr.T are getting along, this should be more than enough to make your counterpart unload a bit. Some like to REALLY unload like a fire hose, busted septic tank or a dormant geyser. Unfortunately you are going to run into a few out there that unload like someone taking the groceries out of their trunk and into their house, but don’t worry about them, they are usually the ones that wouldn’t even go for some pleasure like this.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, the key to this is getting in her head. Make sure there’s room for you and your squad up there and of course, down there. If she’s not with it, it COULD be a bad game to get in too. OR, you could go for gold and maybe turn her day around with the proper technique, “The Whole Trivago.”