I’ve never driven it. I never want to. It would be like pulling the curtain all the way to the side.
Here’s the deal. My significant other. My girlfriend. With whom I’m raising two children. Of the ages of nine and twelve. They ride around in a melting caramel of a car over hill and dale each and every day. There is no radio or air conditioning. There is no power steering.
It burns gas at a rate so alarming that the horror really manifests only when one understands the amount of oil it must be quenched with. The automobile in question is a 1991 Lexus 400 LS. LS stands for Luxury Sedan. Yeah. My woman owns and operates this car. Tanklike in countenance. It has been melting at some certain rate since before the internet came into it’s own. The mechanic made it clear there is no practical way to staunch it’s bleeding of life sustaining lubricants.
Some day it will bleed out.
It’s a large vehicle and she is petite. She appears as a muppet behind the wheel. Elbows above her head.
I cannot describe to you the contents of this vehicle accurately because on any given day it’s diversity is so volatile. Always textbooks and notebooks and backpacks, pens, pencils. Fast food cups and wrappers and sauce packets and burger boxes. Sundries like toilet paper or paper towels or canned beans, jello and yogurt, juice containers, water bottles in various stages of empty, tissues and napkins, cleats and socks.
A perpetually blinking instrument panel.
The passenger seat always a shin deep sea of detritus, it snaps and crackles when I position my feet. The back seat always hip deep in an ever changing ocean of flotsam and jetsam.
Every surface coated with sticky or oily or objectionable. Best to put your hands in your lap. I always feel like I’m riding in a petri dish.
The wind blows all days of the year in the car because it’s always too hot to operate without the windows down regardless of season. Napkins and styrofoam regularly hoovered out the windows by the constant vacuum. Receipts and candy wrappers, dust and mites, homework pages, fortunes from cookies, and sometimes paper currency, floating and pirouetting at eye level.
The sun hits the windshield when driving east in the morning or west in the afternoon and every eyeball in the cabin goes opaque because of the decades long assault by road debris.
Most interesting thing is the smell. It never smells like you might imagine. Not at all organic and rotting. In fact, it often smells good. Usually of lotions, hair products, perfumes and creams. Candles. Lip balm. Pastries even. It smells like girls. Girls smell good. At least the ones I’m fond of.
The entire mix becomes a maelstrom as the vehicle approaches 75-80 mph, a feat accomplished easily with a stomping of the accelerator. It’s engine remains robust as it roars and lurches us all back and forth with authority and aplomb. Still very fast. Still plenty of V8 power.
It rolls and rolls, on and on. Indestructible. One automobile, indefatigable, under God with liberty and justice for all.
What amazes me is they sing and they sleep. They do homework and they eat. On tablets, phones and kindles. They conduct all manner of the life cycle in that ocean of a backseat, in the melting maroon automobile. Hot as blazes. Sun beating in. Increasing the size and weight of the atmosphere tenfold. For hours every day. As they drive. While the car itself melts. Parts literally fall away. It drops the occasional pancreas or gallbladder and keeps on. Last time we had the brakes done, we had it’s appendix removed.
It’s a magical beast. It’s magical because I can’t believe it. It never fails. The girls sway back and forth with hair close behind across the backseat as mom steers through adversity and considerably less adept drivers. She does so expertly despite barely being able to see over the wheel or dashboard. She’s adept. I never really worry about them or myself in that car. It feels safe. Always. It’s no longer the original color of maroon. It’s now a sort of sun beaten burnt magenta. A rust hue, sort of sienna. Caramel. Melting. Impossibly slowly.
Drinks for my friends.
Dracula loves nothing more than fucking with time and space.
Dracula wonders why for fuck’s sake can’t they raise the ratio of peanuts to popcorn in Cracker Jack’s.
Dracula would happily pay more for this.
The other night, staggering drunk, Dracula bounced down the hall to the way too bright toilet and fouled the bowl with his own disgusting waste that reeked afterward like a grassy fetid swamp. Pulling from a plastic bottle of store brand Listerine he felt somewhat redeemed. A little less consumed with self loathing, he then turned to right wing radio and masturbated until his dick began to wrinkle and mottle.
Dracula loves staring at dogs in the elevator. Dracula lives in a tall building where more often than not there are dogs staring up at him in the elevator.
Dracula shows up to smack you around a little.
Dracula will pay you handsomely for your collectibles.
For Trick or Treat, Dracula hands out chili cheese dogs with mayonnaise, mustard and onion.
Dracula smells himself and is confused.
Dracula can really only identify with immigrant grocers and superheroes.
Dracula contemplates at first and later laments the sebaceous cysts on his nut bag.
Dracula languishes in a puddle of urine.
Hundreds of years ago, Dracula glimpsed a freak at a carnival beyond a tent flap parted by stiff wind and he flushed with warmth and excitement. So thrilled was he with knowledge that he was not alone in the world. That there were other odd people in the world. Other people who clamored for respect and belonging in a world that so emphasized glamor and sensation. A world so firmly ensconced in storybook endings and caviar dreams. A society that had consistently discarded him because of who he was and because of his diminutive stature and penis and because he wore a rather ridiculous cape. Dracula always takes the long way home.
Drinks for my friends.
I just saw where Mike Huckabee suggested that the senseless murders in Newtown was of our own device by taking God out of our Schools. What an asshole.
I’m pleasantly non plussed to see even a minority of the the media espousing the notion that mass shootings in this country are realistically, at least in part, the fault of our health care system as opposed to the all too typical hysteria of less than adequate gun control. I do believe that weapons policy in this country is far too lenient but I’m a firm proponent of the second amendment and confident that an elaborately weaponised populace is almost entirely beside the point. I’m of the understanding that our neighbors to the north are similarly festooned with firearms but do not suffer near the frequency of tragedy as we do. The corollary is therefore that our problem is sociological and/or cultural. At the risk of serially contradicting myself, my conviction is that the NRA and asshats like Ted Nugent are a bunch of abject fuckheads but I understand completely that guns don’t kill people, people do.
We need to do something. We should have done something a long time ago. In terms of policy, the most efficacious I ever heard was advanced by Chris Rock who said that the best solution would be to make the goddamn bullets prohibitively exorbitant. Think about it. It makes profound sense. Then, all the under endowed, radical right wing lunatics would be far less inclined to stockpile into arsenals guns they could never afford to actually use. Of course we should ban any gun designed specifically to kill as many humans as possible in the shortest amount of time; ban high capacity clips and magazines etc., but I doubt that would do fuck all to mitigate what has become such chronic catastrophe.
It’s pretty obvious that there exists no chance of simply legislating ourselves out of this with regard to gun control. Far more germane to the argument is the idea that we avail ourselves of more comprehensive mental health access and implementation. A myriad of tragedies private, personal and public might then be averted. Prohibition as panacea for anything as ubiquitous as firearms is as naive and wrong headed as prohibition of alcohol or marijuana. Not only is it virtually impossible but the success of it would only result in advantage to the lawless or anyone of iniquitous intent.
Beyond and above it all is the pervasive malaise of violence seemingly unique to American society which manifests itself in video games, film and television. We have created generations that would view the Zapruder film with perverse glee not only of a human life being extinguished but at the attendant gore. The answer hardly lies in the subversion of our first amendment but in addressing what has emerged as a far too casual countenance of everything from war to random brutality in our own back yards. I suspect the solution lies in somehow fomenting against the institutionalized culture of fear that I believe to be the impetus of it all. If it bleeds it leads. The media understands all too well that messages such as the terrorists are everywhere and hate us for our freedom guarantees paying asses in the seats. Americans are willingly sick to feverish with fear of anyone or anything that is merely different. We are complicit in consumption of the Kool Aid of bigotry, racism and reasonless hate just about every form of media and entertainment turns an avaricious profit from.
I realize what I’m pointing out here isn’t anything new. Michael Moore rather artfully cast light on it in both “Fahrenheit 911″ and “Bowling For Columbine”. But it bears pointing out as loudly and with as much volume and velocity as we can muster because it sure as hell isn’t getting any better.
Drinks for my friends.
It really annoys me when I dig behind my ear with an index knuckle and it smells like inexpensive cheese. I scrub there with purpose. I’m thorough. I do public transportation and read. I’ve already worked through all my Elmore Leonard and now struggle with John Updike because he was pompous as fuck. I think Fitzgerald is next because I’m so mature now.
Nancy Pelosi needs to stop flashing that I just did too much blow grin. She was ushering in all these new women legislators on the news and she looked like a poodle in the rain. I hope she’s just excited. It was kinda hard to watch. I kept thinking she should breath more. Stop laboring so hard between speaking, smiling and trying to be serious. Barbara Boxer is way hotter and Feinstien is like a mother with her wisdom and patience. Dianne Goldman Berman Feinstein.
I cannot escape estrogen in my own house. If you count the cats, I’m outnumbered 5 to 1. I’m the one. One is the loneliest number.
I don’t count the cats.
What had happened was, they lost their ass. Because they showed us their ass. David vs. Goliath. Kinda. Goliath had a lot of money but was challenged intellectually. David had his house in order and was lethally organized. David had a ground game. David had enough more truth to offer. Just enough. Goliath had plenty of money but failed to use it wisely, listened to a bunch of clueless analysts. Horses asses. Yo Yo champions. Red Rover. Red Rover. C’mon over.
Salt & pepper calamari and the seared ahi appetizer that day. The Pinot Grigio wasn’t as good as I remembered it so I moved on to the Factory for Ritz Martinis and lost my eyesight to bright monochromatic visions before the election was done much later that evening. I had every intention of taking the following day off.
I took the day off.
The very word entitelement. They wield it as an accusation. Gobsmacked and panicked over their old white burlesque losing teeth and dentures in a trapeze act not just for supremacy of political policy but social policy too. The ideal that an old white fuck in a suit or stupid golf pants is entitled to more. More than young. More than the really old. More than Women. More than minorities. The more money, the less women. Fuck me.
Talk about left behind.
Grover Norquist cracks open a full fuel Zippo on a wet turd in hell while uttering the word “poopyhead”.
This where we are.
As a result of all this we now know better who we all are and where we all come from and what many of us believe and just how absolutely out of our goddamn minds we all are.
Bigotry, homophobia, misogyny, all a fresh layer of strata beneath the dirty vanilla dusting of post election topsoil. Aging ethnosaurs. Fossilizing. Courting extinction. Wandering grasslands with big stupid ponderous necks. Adjusting to being marginalized herbivores. Starting to see their place in history and archeology.
It’s crazy. They are exorcising Karl with a “K” Rove. They are molting. FOX News didn’t melt down on election night. They just showed us their ass. They didn’t know shit. Duh.
My advice to you. Avoid sex with Republicans. It will be anger sex. Grudge Fucking. Sorry. I’m kidding. Sort of. They are silly. But so are we. It’s become a cartoon. Republicans do appear to have anvil proof heads. But we can’t afford to forget our own pictures are being painted by other than Sarah Hannity or Rush Ingraham. We get chumped too.
Republicans desperately need to rediscover how to to talk to the American electorate responsibly and honestly about the fundamental tenets of your father’s GOP. Back when the party was responsible and accountable as opposed to this wild boar social fuckery that NOBODY likes. You guys lost everybody but white dudes wearing Dockers and it’s only gonna get worse. There was a time I respected Republicans. It was before I was born, and it wasn’t that goofecock Reagan. His name was Eisenhower.
If Republicans can’t step up and pull something off, Democrats will become the giant bleeding vaginas all Republicans would flee department stores from. We’ve got to get this under control and the only way to do it is to get Republicans to stop being such douche bags. Please stop being so adroit at milking the bull semen out of Wall Street. You fuckers embarrass me. You’re so good at it. Get your shit together. Progressives merely want to stop the redistribution of wealth that’s been going on for decades because of BIG FUCKING GOVERNMENT.
COOPERATION, like on Sesame Street.
77 million voters sat this out?
Drinks for my friends.
I think the dumb people of America hate the smart people far more than the outnumbered smart people hate the dumb people.
I walk this planet and look up at really high buildings that have been there for decades. Sometimes I worry that the really tall buildings will reverse the laws of gravity. They’re so high and onerous. Huge and technologically threatening. I now live and work in buildings with three elevators each. People still look down in the elevator but now have smart phones to actually look at. Allegedly fresh produce everywhere. Fresh bread on the shelves. Freeways. Cars. Buses. Trains. Airplanes. Appliances. But then. Sidewalks buckle hilariously, many Americans cling to God and guns and fear that Muslims may be living in their midst.
Still, it occurs to me there are smart folks.
And we’re ensconced in selecting a leader for our people.
The fulcrum of the sale never rests on reason but always reclines on romance.
It’s everyone’s problem everyday. No one can escape it. We buy according to emotional jackwagonry. Whether it’s a saddle and bullets or a yellow goddamn Ferarri. Outside of groceries and telecommunication bundling, we buy to feel better about ourselves. We want to believe we’ve gotten the best deal and oh by the way isn’t it beautiful? It’s gold plated with precious gems and very functional.
This is how we prosecute the election of a man who will be hugely consequential, far beyond just the face of America to the rest of the world.
And we are tied. The starkest contrast between candidates in a decade, maybe a generation. And we can’t figure it the fuck out. Tied between a perpetually grinning used car salesman and a constitutional scholar. A guy who’s religion requires vestments in the form of magic underwear. A man who championed the Vietnam war with zeal while earnestly avoiding participation therein by hiding in the folds of his bullshit cult/religion while galavanting around France on a bicycle in shirtsleeves and tie, spreading the good word of a fucking lunatic. His god lives on a different planet you know. Scientists don’t know anything about it. I think his religion is fair game because anyone who believes in a Santa in the sky should be subject to scrutiny. They all gush about faith. It’s always embarrassing. Jesus Christ. Pun intended. I loathe religion. I would abscond religion in politics in a second but at least I get to make fun of it.
Obama has Colin Powell and Bill Clinton and Romney has Meatloaf and Ted Nugent.
I can’t believe it’s a contest.
I’m no Obamabot or Obamanot or whatever. I just can’t bring myself to care about that shit. The idea that we’re either liberal or conservative, Democrat or Republican. It’s an indicator of just where we are. Banks and financial institutions have had no better friend than Obama. Unemployment remains over seven point eight percent while the stock market has doubled and not one of the bastards that screwed us is even sweating indictment much less a club fed vacation. What I am is progressive and cynical. You don’t know cynical until your forties. That’s when you begin to understand that most American voters don’t give a mad fuck about truth and justice, but instead are dying to be sold something. To buy something to make them feel better. All so willing to stand in line for the proverbial bill of goods both men have ready. They both lie and I’m sick of that. I can’t stand it so much that it makes me think about it and feel bad whenever I lie.
My cynicism is not merely informed but rocket fueled by the bellicose ferocity the entire Republican party has dedicated itself to. One astonishingly slow and short term thinking goal. The destruction of a sitting American President. I have never witnessed such hatred. They have pursued it with a velocity that goes beyond flirting with financial collapse to a whole new low of courting the dissolution of the American middle class with such casual ease and aplomb that I am terrified. I’m confident these people don’t give a mad fuck about you.
And yes, race has reared it’s ugly head. I overheard someone say something like “sometimes Obama acts like a black man and sometimes he acts like a nigger”. What the fuck does that mean? If anything like that has ever escaped your lips, then you my friend are a racist goddamn pig and your only excuse is we live in a society that just might countenance such a remark without you getting punched hard in the mouth on the spot. Like right below and between the eyes, above the mouth but just below the bridge of the nose.
Romney lies more. A lot more and that’s why I don’t like him. He’s a seasoned obfuscater. It bothers me how good he is at it. He lies without any physical strain. Like a rug. Although when he gets called on it, he winces in a way that makes me think he shat himself. I just don’t get this guy. Everytime he’s in front of a camera he’s nervous and weird and saying something completely different than the last time I saw him. All politicians are full of shit but this guy is a world champion sociopath hypocrite, with role reversals on everything from health care to war and women. A most accomplished purveyor of both simple and elaborate falsehoods. A shameless sweaty liar.
His latest ad in Ohio proselytizing that he had nothing but good intentions for the auto industry and Obama was and is hell bent on it’s destruction. That as a result of the stimulus for the American auto industry, Jeep was sold to the Italians and now they plan to ship thousands of manufacturing jobs to China. Grand Pooh Bahs of both companies issued statements effectively demonstrating Romney as blind shithouse drunk or lying. The ad was a lie. Nothing about it is true. Mittens has demonstrated over and over that he is willing to say anything, anything at all, counter to what he said just the day before, to get elected. Wouldn’t even answer questions about FEMA while pretending not to campaign in Ohio. While pretending to load donated goods donated by Ohioans purchased by his own campaign staffers. Willard Mittens Romney is the biggest fucking liar to ever run for president of the United States of America.
If he gets elected, which version are we gonna get? The moderate who got elected in Massachusetts? The one who invented Obamacare? The self described “severe conservative” who won the clown car contest of the Republican primary this year by being more disingenuous than any of the rest of the crazies? The suddenly renewed moderate robot Romney who showed up in the last two debates? Or the absolute dick that selected an absolute dick like Ryan to win over all those absolute neo-dick Republicans who weren’t buying in to his absolute dick, don’t raise taxes on the the severely dickish rich fucks who control our country? Which one?
Seriously? Who the fuck is this guy and have you ever seen ambition without conviction so naked?
Still, it’s a contest. Dead even in the polls.
Paralysis of analysis doesn’t begin to explain it. Why is this happening? One guy doesn’t suck but the other one is a natural disaster who belongs to a cult that really does believe in magic underwear and that is the sum total of what he believes in as far as we are able to deduce based on what he says between Tuesday and Wednesday. Obama isn’t the second coming but this guy Romney keeps changing wigs, tilting his head and smiling in the same creepy way while reversing every single reasonable position he’s ever taken on anything at all to do with compassion or common sense. I’ve never struggled with this decision. His only consistency is in saying what he thinks might just make him electable over and over again. Over and over again. Whatever he has to say.
He runs on magic that doesn’t exist and half of us are line for a ticket.
It really sucks that we are in this place. I am disgusted. This polarization, this divide that exists only on paper and not in the real world is proof that the grand distraction is working. We are mesmerized. The whole thing is working all too well. The plutocrats and oligarchs waltz through our intestines and dance on our fracturing skulls. Distraction has become our satisfaction. It is working all too well. As long as we are at each others throats we will continue to lose ourselves and our identity as Americans, our identity as one America. A singular country. Pride without prejudice.
We are all the same and always have been.
Instead we battle each other with a violence that just doesn’t belong. I talk to conservatives everyday and at conversation’s end discover that we agree on most of it. There is no “there” there. Most of us are reasonable people no matter which side we’re on. Am I the only one that knows this?
I lament the absence of a viable third political party in America. In particular, I am profoundly disappointed in the Republican party’s inability to produce any serious and rational candidates for president going all the way back to the last decent and honorable Republican president. Dwight D. Eisenhower. America so desperately needs a sane and reasonable Republican party but has gotten nothing but partisan, demagogging losers for the last twelve years. The only third party to enter stage left is the abominable Tea Party. Give me a fucking break. Gutter slash Rovian politics that are more about the lowest common denominator than anything else. Money. Money. Money. They have too much and those that fall in line don’t have shit and never will if only because they dance with who the one brung them. I can’t help but hate that there is now but one relatively sane man standing between us and bat shit crazy policies and the intended consequences; incumbent president Obama.
Having said all that, what is up with the overtly pernicious voter suppression effort at the behest of all the Republican secretaries of state and governors in the swing states? People in Florida and Ohio waiting eight hours or more to vote early. It’s constitutionally mandated that we’re all allowed to vote in national election isn’t it? Can we get Rick Scott on the phone? I want to ask him what the hell is he so afraid of. Democrats are proactive. They like to get it done and out of the way. And they’re lazy-more likely to get shit done on their own time. Many of them are frustrated poor and really need to vote on the weekends, like after church. Godluvem. The people who wait in these lines with indefatigable determination are heroes. They can bring their kids if they have to. Former Republican governor of Florida Charlie Crist calls bullshit on it. He says it’s voter suppression. All I know is I see the the lines on the TV and there aren’t many white faces. They are afraid of the general population. Scared enough of the people to rig elections. What more can I make clear to you?
If you are still confused, I would invite you to piss up a rope.
If Mitt gets elected, we so deserve it.
Drinks for my friends.
I gotta tell ya. What I really want to do is smash up a supermarket. I walk those long, peaceful aisles and I look at the glistening jars, the scrubbed and oily produce, and I have violence on my mind. I’ve had this fantasy since I was a kid when we used to blow shit up all the time. From baseball bats to sling shots, amateur bombs and sometimes shotguns. A day of mayhem in a supermarket. Show up early for pastries and juice. Golf carts and liquor. Afternoon sun lit sheen behind the arc of relish under fluorescents violenced by a hard swung axe.
A gallon jar of mustard exploding in golden rays of a twilight sun through thirty foot storefront windows facing west. Huge jars of maraschino cherries slammed onto a bleach white aisle floor, glistening in the low glow of a sun settling below our hemisphere.
Admit it, if you could attack an empty Safeway with your buddies on a Saturday afternoon with a hillbilly arsenal along with a no host bar you’d be there in a heartbeat. I sure as fuck would.
You know what’s sad?
That this election is thus far completely divorced from intellectual honesty. There is not even mere resemblance to intellectual integrity. The debate over who should lead our country and therefore, arguably, lead the free world by example, if not through sheer force of might and too often furious violence, is being waged on a field of rhetorical symbolism as opposed to intellectual responsibility.
I am proud of my President because of the position he’s taken. I see the the issue of same sex marriage, of gay rights, as fundamentally in and of the context of civil rights. I am absolutely certain that sexual orientation, gender preference, what sex you desire to fuck upon maturity, is inherent. Nobody actually decides to be gay. That’s as profoundly absurd as someone deciding at the age of five or seven to want to get sexy with the first grade teacher with the huge knockers. I don’t remember that decision. It decided me. It hurled itself upon me in ever greater heaps until I was thirty, maybe thirty five. I had no choice and I’m still firmly in it’s grip. It’s sex, stupid. It’s primal and carnal and meant to be.
No different than discrimination against women, minorities, the handicapped or anyone else actually born the way they are. Born the way they are. A matter somehow consigned to clueless, misinformed, ignorant and the indoctrinated of intolerance these days. Always fueled by the inflamed. Always fueled by religious indignation.
So in light of that, if you feel differently, with all sincerity and conviction, I say fuck you and your God. Because that’s most of the impetus. Religious intolerance. I am absolutely sick of your shit and history will judge you to be abject fools. Get the fuck out of my living room, get off my fucking TV, get out of my fucking life you goddamn mindless, drooling Christian heretics. Hypocrites. Tolerance my ass. You people trade in judgment and hearsay. All you motherfuckers should be taxed the same as the rest of us if for no other reason than you’re completely full of shit and you never, ever, fail to seize any opportunity to proselytize politically. And you do so by threatening everyone within reach of your bullshit vitriol with the specter of some idolized and ridiculously cherished Santa Clause for grown ups.
I admit it’s completely genius. If only because it works. People are way dumber than I ever would have thought.
Look, whatever gets you through the night. No matter how stupid it means you are.
So please, by all means, keep it to yourself and shut the fuck up otherwise.
I’m a humanist. I believe in humanity. I understand that some people are good and some people are bad and it doesn’t have a damn thing to do with Santa or the Heat Miser.
“God is not some celestial party chairman” -Mario Cuomo
I will not apologize for my view that Mitt Romney is an an absolute idiot on so many more levels than just his belief in magic underwear and the fact that he gives all of his charitable contributions to a religious organization that maintained that blacks had no chance of divine holiness until the late sixties. A religious organization that afforded copious filthy lucre toward African American males in California to subtract the right of Gay Americans to marry and enjoy the same rights as Heterosexuals in California, America. They absolutely preyed upon a bias they knew to be nascent yet efflorescent. These bastards decided to afford themselves multiple wives. All decent men understand the fantasy as well as they understand the basic fact that it objectifies fully half of us. And this dickhead who would be king tells us that The Gays don’t deserve to be treated the same as everyone else. Not the same as you and me. Less than. Not the same. Sick and shamelessly opportunistic. The Mormons did that. Mitt Romney says that.
He’s fucktard incarnate and if you vote for him you’re a soldier of spectacular stupid.
I will not apologize for that. Mitt Romney is a colossal asshole. He doesn’t belong here and that’s what I’m getting at. All he has is this ginned up culture war. This novocain, antibiotic resistant virus of a politician who has no position on anything except what’s convenient today. This man who is intellectually bereft of any thoughtful notion or action, wants to lead you. To pretend to inspire you. And his stock in trade is to confuse you with this nonsense because he’s got nothing.
His own party spits a pubic hair off their collective lip before they invoke his candidacy.
This should be about the economy and if it were to genuinely be about just that, Willard Mittens Romney would taste his own blood on the playground of politics because he’s got nothing. He’s an emptier suit than George W. Bush ever thought about trying on. They all stand around and entertain this badinage, but he is a phony. A charlatan. A used car salesman who fiscally rapes and pillages and seeks to wear it as an economic badge of honor while hiding from everything he’s ever done. I can’t stand it.
Can we just please focus on what matters instead of Guy Smiley delivering the commencement address at godweird Liberty University? Can we please get beyond Obama’s princely conduct of making public that he has no object against same sex marriage? It should be a given. Evolved people want to know what happens next. I hold these truths to be self evident because the only time my 77 year old mother ever uses the word “fuck” is when the word “republican” is in the same sentence.
We don’t get better until we do better.
Drinks for my friends.
I really don’t understand. We have a president that has been asleep at the demographic for years. He’s accomplished much but betrayed us handily. The war on drugs. In as much as it is a betrayal of African Americans as it is a betrayal of all Americans. This tragic bullshit in the gulf and the painfully obvious consequences that will keep on giving. Stocking his cabinet with the same fuckers financial that steered this huge boat into the berg.
And then there’s the alternative and this really chaps my ass. The douche nozzle that is Willard Mittens Romney. Guy Smiley. Presumptive nominee. Jackwagon extraodanaire.
Let me ask you something. Honestly. Do you really want this any way the wind blows, disingenuous, ridiculously wealthy blowhard running your shit? This prickly pear cactus makes $20+ million a year and pays a lower, much lower percentage of that in taxes than you or I. What sane, rational dumbass could possibly entertain the notion that this magic underwear wearing billionaire could possibly have his best interest in mind?
How did we get here? How is this even a conversation, much less a contest?
I want the pizza with the hot dog crust. I hear Pizza Hut is behind some cheeseburger crust in Asia somewhere. I saw a commercial and it looked to me delicious, notwithstanding the rather obvious calorically cholesterol issues. Who thinks about that shit when inhaling hot slices of cheesy goodness? I like hot dogs. I believe there should always be cheese on a hot dog. And always onions. Always onions. Always mayonnaise and mustard. Always. It’s just not a hot dog without mayonnaise, mustard, onions and cheese.
I know a wine. Ode to Turley Zin. I got a call. A fine zinfandel that is all cedar smoke, plum and voluptuous dry berries. Then there’s that mouth feel thing. The weight of it. The fruit and the smoke. One bottle for now and one for later. All I’ve ever tasted has been worth the price. The woman is a genius. It’s a hard bottle to find. I afforded it.
Lavender mustard. I don’t know yet.
There’s little doubt in my mind that this election is Obama’s to lose.
Polls are beginning to lean like trees in heavy weather in his favor. The housewives and girlfriends. The Latinos. Kinda like those neat rows of trees in black & white footage from nuclear bomb tests back in the day before women dared speak their minds about their very own wombs while mankind had discovered how to destroy itself.
The flip top heads on television caution us to be vigilant and prepared, it’s gonna be close they say, but I just don’t see it.
Unless Americans are fucking idiots.
Like there’s no evidence of that.
Ted Nugent endorses Romney with an excoriating screed at an NRA convention. Really awful stuff. The Secret Service engages in lukewarm pursuit. Whatever. It speaks volumes for the Republican party that a hapless presumptive nominee like Guy Smiley would ever deign to seek the nod from such an insipid, ignoble dickbrain. Terrible Ted was a decent guitar slinger in his day before being absolutely eclipsed by a fertile and far more talented field of innovative pickers, pluckers, strummers and tappers. I am merely appalled at his words. I don’t anticipate losing any sleep over his intentions. It’s an ironic beauty of the first amendment that allows shitstains like The Motor City Madman to open his mouth and remove all doubt. It speaks volumes about camp Romney that they think an endorsement by this brand of “patriot” is somehow cool.
Fuck the NRA.
So yeah, it’s Obama’s to lose.
Here’s one tragedy that doesn’t seem to count for shit either way.
Ted Nugent and Barack Obama agree on one thing. The prison industrial complex. Both believe that their ardent supporters should go to prison for smoking pot. Ted Nugent proudly proclaims he’s never used drugs and hates anyone who does, and loathes anyone who doesn’t own a gun with which to shoot defenseless animals. Barack Obama admits using drugs and is rapidly outmatching the previous administration in the war thereon. More medical marijuana clinics busted, hassled and harassed than under Dick-in-Bush. All this after an explicit promise not to pursue such innocuous matters.
Ted Nugent is an idiot of stratospheric jingoistic ignorance. Our President is calm, cool and reasonable.
What the fuck?
What people don’t understand is that it’s not just big pharma that is threatened and vested in current policy but it’s big oil as well. From efficacious treatment of pain management to plastics and textiles, owned and controlled by the pharmaceutical and petroleum cabals. From sea to shining sea. The dashboard of a Chevy Volt or your milk carton or your ice cube tray could be made from hemp you fools. Our fear is fierce.
Both betray their followers; Nugent discards everyone who ever smoked a blunt and listened to his mediocre guitar playing and Obama, with far more egregious cowardice, betrays his very own people who are disproportionately profiled, persecuted, prosecuted, imprisoned, vilified, and ultimately ruined by the profoundly absurd war on drugs. America incarcerates more people per capita than any nation on earth and the most gargantuan sum to be had is the non-violent drug offenders.
Let me tell you a story.
A little over 20 years ago, I was in my hometown on vacation. I found myself in the midst of an epic bender early one morning on a stretch of flat, straight blacktop between the town I grew up in and the the big city closest, traveling at a rate of speed that would have made a NASCAR amateur giggle. I wasn’t driving, but we were fucked up. Drunk and smoking dope like chimneys. Going so goddamn fast we didn’t know we were being chased by the cops from the town we’d just left. After cresting the hill and slowing down into the town the three of us had grown up in, there were five or six police cruisers waiting for us, red lights angrily spraying the sagebrush and asphalt predawn.
Stupid is as stupid does.
Booked on felony possession in a state with draconian mandatory sentencing. Remember, this was over twenty years ago. All I had was my record company ID and a thimble full of shake in the bottom of one of those little Zip-Lock bags you buy silver hoops in. They finger printed me and allowed me a phone call. I had to tell my parents I’d been arrested for possession of a controlled substance. It would make the hometown paper the next day. They gave me an orange jumpsuit and plastic slippers.
My mother bailed me out after the banks opened. The DA was a friend of the family. It turned out okay. I’m here to write about it.
Last weekend I had to renew my doctor recommended medical marijuana thingy. I did that. Then I went across the street to a place across the street from a recording studio I worked at for the better part of a decade and legally purchased an eight of Larry OG.
Having said all that, why would you still want this sycophantic, wankering, lying sociopath, used car salesman, clown car pilot as your president?
I’ll be voting for the sane guy, even though he’s kind of a dick.
Drinks for my friends
Mayonnaise is the most perfect condiment ever. In the post apocalyptic future where vegetables are rare and hamburgers hard to come by, I will lament the absence of mayonnaise. I covet that sauce so much that I hoard packets of it whenever I find them. I suspect foil envelopes linger in the pockets of winter coats I haven’t yet worn this season. I suspect they will probably be fresh and palatable next season and exciting like money discovered in unlikely places.
What do you say when a child asks for a sip of your wine or beer or cocktail? You won’t like it. You won’t understand that the part of the drink that bites is what we like because of the promise of an effervescent numbness. An end to the days events. It frees you to say what you want. Not what you think you think but always what you want to say.
I abuse cheese as a substance more than booze.
I lie, it’s a close second.
When I die I want to be incinerated. I hope there’s a party. I hope I can at least fill a room.
I’ve been thinking about this murder in Sanford Florida. This self appointed protector. George Zimmerman. This would be neighborhood watch captain, SUV warrior of the burb protecting the community from a 140 pound kid sporting a bag of Skittles and some brand of tea that’s yet to be infamous. I had no idea about this retarded law. MSNBC throws up a map where this insanity is the rule state by state . I begin to understand the strange fear of certain cousins and uncles and various bigots and roundheads. Dozens of states with the same crazy law. This thing is walk in the park obvious. An asshole with eyes too close together, committed first degree murder in Florida and that is that. It was premeditated. It is murder. George Zimmerman pursued and provoked and without that, no matter how the confrontation evolved, there would be one less dead black teenager in Florida, in America, today. I would love to believe that Trayvon felt threatened enough by this dickhead Zimmerman that he acted under the proviso of the “Stand Your Ground ” law on his own and smacked the snot out of him before the asshole whipped out his big iron and gunned the defenseless adolescent down. But I doubt that’s how it played out. It is clear that Zimmerman pursued and provoked despite the clear instruction of the 911 operator. Despite common sense or reason. It is painfully obvious that Trayvon Martin was not engaged in any criminal activity. He wasn’t carrying a crowbar, a hammer or even a baseball bat. He was not armed and there was nothing to indicate he was involved in anything illegal. Zimmerman was packing a Nine Millimeter and aching to experience what effect it would have on a “fucking coon” first hand. I believe in capital punishment about as much as I agree with abortion, so fry the bastard or pair him up for life with a bull hung cellie named Bubba or maybe Darth.
Self defense my ass.
They drug tested the corpse but hardly questioned the murderer.
I always, always use the handicap stall. I don’t hesitate at all in a public restroom. I head for the big room. The wide open spaces. The expansive veranda. I haven’t seen a handicapped person in a public bathroom since 1966. The year after I was born. My dad was changing me in the men’s room sink of a casino and some war veteran rolled in and emptied his bag. I just happened to remember. I have no fear of the handicapped.
I heard Trayvon’s mother say rather magnanimously that this wasn’t a black and white issue, but a right or wrong issue.
She is only half right because this is stanky racism.
Geraldo Rivera would instruct us all that the real culprit here is the blatantly irresponsible wearing of a hoodie by a dark skinned male. Douchebag. Like the woman dressed in a low cut top or a short skirt was asking for it. Asking to be raped. Frothy Santorum and Salamander Gingrich would have us believe that the President’s statement that if he had a son, he would look like Trayvon, is an attempt to somehow foment a nonexistent racial imperative that otherwise wouldn’t exist. Shameless fucking blowhards. A glistening example of why I loathe these opportunistic fuckers. How do they sleep?
Just today, the proud leaders of Sanford commit to a low arching campaign of impugning a normal teenager’s character. Because they are stupid.
It’s not necessary to dwell on the facts and particulars. There was no investigation to begin with. At it’s best it’s a hate crime. No investigation needed. There was none to begin with. What we have here is a vigilante misanthrope, a racist fucktard who might just be so dumb that he fails to get the fuck out of Dodge and actually gets arrested a few days from now after the local geniuses involved figure out that they have no choice but to arrest him. I bet that’s how plays it out. If not, the powers that be of Sanford are realistically close to being chased out with torches and pitchforks.
Or maybe not. It did transpire in the Dirty South.
That poor kid. Random. Trayvon Martin and George Zimmerman. An innocent kid against a jacked up pretend neighborhood watch bigot with a hard on to matter in some desperate way. Fire them all. Everyone who had anything to do with it. The sheriff, the mayor, the city manager. Put this human puke in jail for the rest of his miserable life. Official inquiries and investigations will only cloud what actually happened here. It’s fucking Florida. They can’t, won’t or are incapable of investigating jay walking. If ever I’ve seen a reason to rush to justice, this is it.
I feel the sympathy and the outrage. I’m horrified by the false sympathy and manufactured outrage. This is America. This year of our lord, 2012. Sometimes it looks like we haven’t learned a goddamn thing. Thank God I’m an atheist.
Goodnight Uncle Larry. May you rest in peace.
Drinks for my friends.
McDonald’s has a double Filet O’ Fish on the menu, but the picture shows only one slice of oil based synthetic cheese among the two crispy patties. When I order it, I’ll make sure it has two slices of oily cheese and I’ll fucking pay for that extra greasy slice. Gimme a side of that tartar goop for my hair. My latest thing is a large, unsweetened iced tea and a hash brown from the drive thru for my bleary morning ramble to the salt mine.
I hear the Shamrock Shake is in season. I’ll let you know.
Rush Limbaugh doesn’t respect his audience. He doesn’t care about anything he says. George Will infamously pointed out that all the Republican sycophants, especially the candidates, fear him. Nancy boys. Indeed, the titular head of the Republican party does not give a shit about the Republican agenda or what gets elected. No matter the outcome, he will spew toxins in water wherever he swims. He doesn’t give a mad fuck. See, in light of the current Republican candidates, he flaunts more power and control than any of the jackasses actually running for power and control. I am giddy with anticipation. Now he goes to commercial and it’s dead air. All national advertising has been “suspended” from his show. He should seek council from Glenn Beck.
What we are witnessing here is historic. The face of the Republican party folding in half. Melting on itself like a bag of caramels in the sun. As breathtaking as a freshly shorn scrotum.
So gorgeous that these fatuous jackwagons Santorum and Limbuagh have picked a fight with over half the population and waltzed, with misogynistic hubris and arrogance, into a buzz saw of vagina. How can anyone in the 21st century oppose contraception for women? Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. How dumb can you be?
These are interesting times. HBO drops this movie “Game Change”, that is simultaneously withering and credible at the same time the latest version of the GOP primary is ten times sillier. This is what it is; the sober men in the room understand that this lunch will be handed to them. They know they will not prevail in this election on a presidential level. They are just looking to save face and Guy Smiley is the best looking guy in the room. They understand that he’s electorally inept and all they’re hoping for is an exit as graceful he can afford them so they can purpose all their filthy lucre, lust, greed and vainglory on Congress.
Beware the Frumious Bandersnatch.
So last night, Santorum wins the two dumbest states of the union in a long tradition of mentally compromised Republicans voting inverse to their own best interests. Alabama and Mississippi. Jewels in the crown of ignorance and the absence of dental care. Frothy lost his last bid for the Senate by 18 points in Pennsylvania. He got crushed in his home state and now he’s The Cracker Conservative. Sheezus. That talent pool has no moisture left to puke.
Ladies and gentlemen, the contemporary Republican party. But first, please enjoy the stylings of Donny and Marie. One must wonder if even the Osmonds will vote for Mittens. The only thing saving Mitt from himself and Santorum is a salamander named Newt. He splits the crazy.
Is this so bad it’s good? It just might be.
What we have here is inevitable. Social Darwinism. Knuckle draggers being sucked into the ooze along with their pomaded misanthropes. I don’t know enough about media and advertising to know for sure, but this definitely looks infected to me. Pardon me while I contain my enthusiasm. Are you gonna eat that?
I’ve been saying for two years that the GOP has nobody. It is gratifying to see it enacted live on my television nightly.
Still, watch your ass. That guy in the pool with a knife clenched in his teeth is your friendly neighborhood Republican.
Drinks for my friends.
I was dwindling away the other day by noticing how much more grime my fingernails collect when I forget to cut them. I’m eating as many bleu cheese dressing soaked salads as my gulliver can process. Everybody vote for Rick Santorum. Salads make me crap like a goose. Sizzler’s salad bar in Culver City has a nice array of plants (fruits and vegetables), cheeses, dressings, soups, nacho pilings and deserts. I love it there. They have nice bathrooms. I swipe the kiosk with my debit card, turn around and an attractive young woman or a smiling middle aged man hands me my tray including a receipt which qualifies me for the bread of my choice as well as extra plates and napkins.
These days I bring Greg Palast to read. Total gumshoe retro contemporary, night stalker cheap suit. He tells the truth and that makes him Gonzo. I’ve been reading this guy for awhile. Truthout.org
I try to read at lunch. It’s my Zen. What I do is scoop as much of the banana pudding off the top of the banana pile of vanilla wafer bonanza at the desert bar, and garnish it with the syrupy berries meant for the flavorless soft serve. I use the handle of the soup bowl to stop my new hardback from closing in the middle.
So anyway, what the fuck is up with this Republican primary? What we have here is a room full of very pale primates. It really is embarrassing. They tear each other apart while angling for the lowest common denominator along with the richest bastards in the room. They are confused. So am I. It’s the new normal.
Frothy Santorum says Obama is a “snob” for promoting academic achievement beyond high school. What a dick. Never mind it’s not even what the President said. Then he picks a fight with a 48 year dead president, the most popular ever, a fellow Catholic, over the separation of church and state by saying the assassinated president’s speech on the importance of religion being personal made him want to puke. He’s made the man on dog argument about gay marriage and said that contraception foments immoral behavior. Birth control equals irresponsible fucking in this man’s mind. What an asshole. The male equivalent of Michele Bachmann. Dangerous and crazy because he believes what he says. Santorum milks his time beneath the proscenium as long as his voice echos. He’ll write a book and get appointed to something.
Rick Santorum is a misogynistic, homophobic bigot.
Guy Smiley makes me cringe. He’s it and Republicans know he’s going to lose, but he’s it. He is the best they have and he is the most insincere, disingenuous, used car salesman to ever fly north of vice presidential. He tells a story in the first person about some golden auto industry celebration he remembers from when he was about 4 or 5 that actually happened before he was born. He has another story about his father marching in Selma with MLK that didn’t happen. He sings too often. Mitt Romney is the most shallow and out of touch candidate since George W Bush.
He’s an idiot. Worst politician I’ve ever seen and the best Republicans have to offer.
Don’t worry; neither one has a snowball’s chance in hell.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Obama would appear to have a better grip on everything except gas prices and the coming inflation.
I am cynical and paranoid but doesn’t this look infected to you? It’s all a little too perfect isn’t it?
When Romney wins the nomination and loses his bid for the presidency, the hapless Republicans might probably jerk further to the right, dooming them in the eyes of the mainstream indefinitely. They are that dumb. Their math will value Romney as too moderate for losing and therefore reason to revisit marching practice. Were Santorum to prevail, the GOP might actually benefit and move towards a more moderate stance. Rick Santorum is our best chance for reasonable political discourse in this country and he’s a lunatic.
I understand that Santorum is mental. Any family in this country with eight kids is automatically dysfunctional if they aren’t on a farm somewhere. This guy is the real deal. He means what he says. That’s how I know he’s goddamn nuts. Rush Limbaugh says what he thinks he has to. He never even considers whether it’s true or not. He doesn’t care. Rick Santorum absolutely believes every batshit crazy thing that comes out of his weird foaming little rictus.
Yet he is our best hope.
We really need to help them go too far and nominate this douchenozzle Santorum so that they might understand just how too far they have gone. Frothy will get crushed by a man that knows what he’s doing and the rounheaded might consider tacking towards the center if only too save the party brand. This clown show is titillating and hilarious but might still serve a purpose.
Obama will be President of the United States again. It is what it is and it’s a done deal. So Santorum is our best bet. There’s absolutely no way he can win the nomination and if he does, liberals will all go on holiday. And then maybe, just maybe, the idiots will understand shame. The sky will open and they will begin to accept the theory of evolution and then discover that they are almost obsolete because of social Darwinism.
Then President Obama will stop pulling punches because the Republicans are now pussies and he doesn’t have to worry about getting re-elected. He’ll show up in a cape and some ridiculous sandals and get shit done.
Rick Santorum for President of The United States of America.
Drinks for my friends.
Ever notice how good pot smells and tastes a little salty?
Kinda like licorice.
So my difficulty is existential. As in why. What are we doing here?
I fed the cats.
Salt and pepper.
Sometimes I understand while I’m driving through nice neighborhoods. Sometimes I have a nice lunch and read a book by myself.
99% is too high. I’m comfortable with say, 89% +. Anything over that is golden.
I think I smell my own feet.
I was borne 47 years ago last week. I’ve been sending myself mixed messages ever since. We all do. I seem to have lost my romance with romance. Everything has lost its sheen. Drugs and porn are boring. I still like food a lot. I get sick now and then because the children are carriers. I actually vomited and crapped uncontrollably and had the chills and sweats a few weeks ago. I still like good wine. This week I have a cold. It’s moving towards my ears. They are carriers. I have fun helping with homework. Their entire existence explodes wherever they go but they are very charming. I read the fridge. Tiny tempests that take over my life and living room between two and five days a week. Surreality.
They are insane. They have interesting problems. I’ve been around. I’ve seen crazy. I realize they’re children. What they know and what they don’t know is confounding. Almost completely irrational. What nobody understands is that it’s group therapy for me. I try to talk to them.
47 just the other day.
I hear Santorum gushed the other day, last week. Whatever. The only reason for a GOP campaign season at all this year that I can see, is to expose the humor along with epicenters of idiocy. Who won in South Carolina? It was some form of mendacious reptilocryte. A heavily favored used car salesman with the last name of ‘Smiley’ in magic underwear claimed Florida. Santorum, frothing, won caucuses in Colorado and Minnesota and a primary in Missouri. Add to that a new survey by the Pew Research Center for the People & the Press showing Mittens and Frothy in a statistical neck and neck: “Rick Santorum’s support among Tea Party Republicans and white evangelicals is surging,”. Very exciting. And just now, Mittens prevailing with little starch in Maine, barely winning a pissing contest with crazy old uncle Paul. Conservatives are shitting their pants.
Everybody relax. Guy Smiley will be the nominee and have his Mormon ass handed to him by the Socialist Kenyan. Hope and change. Newsflash, it’s not all about the presidency.
Liberals know what states not to have breakfast in. We like to stick to the coasts. There’s lunatics everywhere but most of them are down and to the right. Ideologically and geographically. Down and to the right. I believe Nixon and Lee Atwater called it the “Southern Strategy”. Now we call it a “Culture War”. Down and to the right.
The right wing retards will howl at the moon, militias will muster, bluster and plot. Pro Life roundheads and neo Christian hypocrites will lick and suck at the rubbernecking media serving a lowest common denominator demographic and a few of us will stare in horror and disbelief. The gorgeous irony is a Grand Old Party that has forgotten everything but how to march. They still march fiercely, no longer all in the same direction, however. The coming conflagration will singe everything. America probably needs more than two parties. But the failure of our two party system is evidenced by the slapstick implosion of the Republican field. Sarah Palin still able to light ‘em up at CPAC. That woman is a fucking idiot. Democrats with hands over dicks, trying to remember to go to church more often and avoid pissing off any more bankers.
It’s not like the only thing the entire maniacal circus of factions has in common is some weird Icarus complex with all the reckless hubris.
It’s all so copiously and conveniently Wrestlemania and Jerry Springer for your entertainment. We are a bunch of douchebags. The election will be televised, any revolution will be excised, and until then we will be obsessed with all that does not matter. No one will lack for an enemy.
I get why they keep going on. They know it’s been decided. The deal is in place. So it shall be written. So it shall be done. Meet the old boss, same as the new boss.
The only thing that shocks me is how obvious it all is. Follow the money. You won’t need a calculator.
Drinks for my friends.
What’s the word for people like me who prefer animals over humans?
All children over the age of three are in the grip of lust, greed and power.
Misanthrope. Makes me think of Richard Nixon’s face.
Although kitties are benevolent, their love is not unconditional. You still have to feed and water them. You still have to be nice to them. I would carry my kitties in my pockets. I would live in my car with them.
People are people wherever you go.
I’ve had my heartstrings viciously strummed by a sorceress with a plectrum to the tune of ten thousand dollars. I would downshift and stomp the accelerator were that woman to enter a crosswalk against the light in front of me. The light was green and I was speeding up to avoid a cyclist. It’s not just the money. She was an awful cunt from every angle. She lied about everything. A true sociopath. Her name is.
The only thing a kitty has ever done to me is tip a glass of water onto my keyboard. Or maybe get hissy at me for snatching my coat ever so cautiously from beneath its lounging when I needed it for a smoke on the balcony.
Human beings are awful and I sure am one of them. The truth is I’m a salesman. I get paid to get over on other humans all day long. It’s what I do. For a living. I talk to them. I reason with them. Above all, I appeal to their emotions. They give me their credit card information, their addresses. They do this because they believe their lives and their businesses will improve.
They do it because they believe me.
I sit back and hope it works for them.
I work hard at it and suffer more than anything the coward who lacks the resolve to tell me no. I hate that. They are the weakest of all. Just say no. If I were you, I would have told me to piss up a rope six days ago. If it were me, and someone was squeezing me this hard, I’d punch him in the junk and kick him in the head before I left the scene. Fucking pussies.
I’d much rather do something else. I used to make records. Making records was a way better job. I didn’t loathe people nearly as much.
If I knew then what I know now about getting over on people, I’d still be making records. It’s true. Because I didn’t suck at it. I didn’t suck at it all, but selling myself, I sucked at that. Now I’m good at selling something, anything, I don’t care nearly as much about.
I am loathe.
I started off working for my best friend’s hand blown glass marijuana pipe company. He launched it in a garage. A month or two later we were in a dimly lit warehouse without heat or air conditioning, somewhere not far from North Hollywood. I did everything from pack & ship to negotiate with copier salesmen and pipe manufacturers. There were only a handful of production minded glass blowers back then. They were the same as the musicians I’d already been dealing with everyday forever. My job became to manage them. So I did.
We grew. We began to manufacture. I dabbled in raw materials. I dealt with OSHA and waded into printing. I liaisoned with Fed Ex and UPS. I managed an ever growing network of glass blowers and vendors. I was the buyer and I spent hundreds of thousands a month. I’d never been in business before but I could feel it beginning to pop. One day my best friend said he couldn’t justify paying me any more than I already made unless I hustled some product.
I never wanted to be a salesman.
So I got on the phone and started making friends. I made friends at trade shows.
I sold millions of dollars worth of glass pipes, bongs and even glass dildos. Boys night out was sometimes a limo to the Van Nuys airport and a private jet to Vegas with a suite at the Bellagio and reservations at Nobu. We subcontracted these padded velvet pipe bags for the more expensive paraphernalia. The whole evening was cash. I had a girl in Vegas I would Fed Ex cash to and she’d pay for the room and make sure the limo had the tail number of the plane. Otherwise the padded bag was the football. The football contained giant wads of high denomination currency. Everyone involved kept there eyes on the ball. It was our fuck you money.
We would meet in the wind at this little airport around one am to get back to LA by a time that allowed plausible deniability for when the bars closed in LA.
To be continued.
Since then I’ve sold advertising (print and online), appointments for window treatment specialists to visit you in your home, convention space, extended auto warranties, amazingly expensive memberships to a wholesale buying club, merchant services and custom rolling papers. Not necessarily in that order.
I’m good in person but better on the phone because I don’t like people.
Drinks for my friends.
I AM a lineman for the county.
January is not a salesman’s best month. I’m angsty. My road rage dogma is about to overtake the Karma it doesn’t understand why it wants to run down. I get angry when the sales dice catch frost. I was killing it up until Christmas. Right up until Savory Santa Day. Angsty.
So anyway. Every driver of every other car is a clown disguised as an ordinary idiot looking to make a left turn from the far right lane on a one way street clogged with pachyderm buses. Nobody at the downtown Ralph’s can operate the goddamn automated parking system and everyone in line wants to put something back they can’t afford or commit the egregious societal sin of initiating a price check. Non-ruminant ungulates.
They tell me time flies when you’re having fun.
My problem is that I’m sick of being yanked into believing there’s a difference between the sizzle and the steak. Too few chomp on both. Obama breaks his populist bottle on the 2012 masthead and the banks will grease him in. Meet the new boss; same as the old boss. To his right is Mittens Romney. Guy Smiley. An elitist (he even speaks French), 1% asshole in magical underwear that Christian evangelicals despise and conservatives as well as neo-conservatives distrust with gorgeous malice. He’s only gotten this far because he looks presidential.
They have their man and are content to let the fools wear silly hats and run circles to distract us.
Ever seen that Star Trek episode written by Harlan Ellison? ”City On The Edge of Forever”? I’m not sure it has anything to do with what I’m talking about here but maybe this does: http://www.thedailybeast.com/videos/2012/01/15/the-case-against-liberal-despair.html
Hooptie Jesus! I’ve just been informed by Politico that the Salamander has prevailed in the South Carolina primary. Rockin’ good news Peanut. It goes without saying that he won because he’s a doughy, white, unapologetic racist and the proud people inhabiting this definitive notch in the Bible Belt have made themselves heard. Here in America we call that brand of democracy appealing to the lowest common denominator.
Republicans are so willing to forget that Gingrich was thrown out of Congress for being a mendacious hypocrite and that Reagan was a closet liberal before he devolved into a clueless, stumblefuck meat puppet.
The chances of a consensus being reached before the big stupid GOP hootenanny have just decreased by enough to have me smirking gratified. If it does end up going the distance, Mittens and the Salamander will have shredded each other so vociferously that Obama’s grin will be garnished with carrion. Never mind that you get what you pay for and he has been. Obama. Paid for.
Maybe, just maybe, these jackasses will implode so spectacularly, wreck themselves so thoroughly, that elected Democrats will have no choice but to abandon the facile partisan bullshit they’ve been all too content to occupy themselves with and actually take a swing at representing the people that elected them as opposed to the plutocrats that bought them.
I have a dream today.
Drinks for my friends.
I have mad kitties.
They puke everywhere.
Life is increasingly absent normal.
I have children here.
I try very hard to just be shy. I realize I can be a ginormous presence. Being among children makes you feel loud and large.
Being around children teaches you how to be humble. An example of how to be shy.
My kitties are mad. Everyone in this place is crazy and even my kitties are female. I’m the lone testosterone ranger among five estrogen fueled womenfolk. Whenever I’m this outnumbered, I call my mother. She tells me my Father’s toenail surgery wasn’t the success we’d all hoped for. I’m not at all happy to hear it because I’ve inherited the same malaise. I know this clinic that will treat an ingrown toe for a hundred and fifty bucks. I just need to know what they do for a sum that paltry.
I’ve come to accept that our vote doesn’t count. That Obama’s suit is nearly as empty as that of Dumbya. Presidents don’t drive. They never have. The reason the Republican reality show is so vividly absurd is because the Powers That Be already have their man. Do the math. Look at the money and where it came from. Where it comes from. Where it goes. Trust me all that fear, if Obama loses, he won’t be walking away but he won’t be running. I’ll be shocked if he whifs it.
Presidents are mascots. The Senate are pious ascots and The House are jackoffs.
It’s not real.
Manufactured for your disdain and delight. We bring you Liberal vs. Conservative. Asshole vs. Dickhead. Moron vs. Wimp.
You are all staring at something shiny. Wolf Blitzer is as full of shit as Brit Hume. Goddamn those are dumb names.
It’s true, comedians are your best bet.
Honestly, I wouldn’t blame you for going on about your business.
The dumb ones never sit it out. We can always count on the functionally stupid. Has there actually been 17 Republican debates? For what? It’s retarded. The candidates are retarded. I realize how politically incorrect that word is but I can’t be bothered. It’s fucking retarded and so are way too many of us. Something shiny. All creepy dolls who’s eyes open when you hold them upright. Mitt Romney as the lusty but vacuous power forward with the skinny calves, weak knees and ridiculous magic underwear. Newt the vainglorious, cherubic blowhard short stop and Santorum, the disturbingly homophobic, sanctimonious gym coach of the ignorant and incestuous. Michele Bachmann was a nun with a spear through her head constantly having difficulty getting through revolving doors and I weep at the loss of The Donald and anything Palin.
We never had it so good.
It’s not real.
Drinks for my friends
My refrigerator has genuine schoolgirl on it. Vivid crayon art with shiny decals alongside dry homework with what appears to be an outstanding grade; fastened to the faux stainless refligerator/fleezer door with magnetic cat sphincters. Inside are more half empty cups, dishes, containers, bags, trays, bowls, jars and sometimes sacks than I can suffer frequently.
The ones with booze in them are mine. The ones in the side door that are slightly blue from a dash of Powerade.
Clear bags with meat in them and plastic envelopes full of delicious sharp cheddar cheese. Jars of pungent, somewhat exotic mustards and other condiments like capers and kalamata olives. Fish, BBQ and teriyaki sauces.
I’ve glimpsed chunks of stuff in various stages of decay. I hear carnival music when I open the door.
Sometimes there’s ice cream in the freezer. Sometimes not.
There’s a giant pasta bowl in the elbow of the kitchen with a few kinds of fruit, cloves of garlic, some onions, shallots and I think I saw limes this morning. Maybe they were avocados. There’s microwave popcorn in the cupboard along with more often than not turkey chili and ravioli in a can.
Chrome blender. Chrome toaster. Sleek black coffee maker and a stocky fire engine red bean grinder.
I find myself naked, eating rubbery high fructose corn lozenges out of a slender foil packet in the middle of dark mornings. I have to pee.
I try to make sure there’s good canned tomatoes, decent pasta, aged parmesan, olive oil …………..
The kitchen and its contents aspirate so vigorously, I imagine it as a stop motion montage. All of us speeding around supernaturally, cooking and eating. Exaggerated moments of consumption.
I think about a certain food, one I’m sure I just saw, and it’s been gone for at least a day or two.
I always find something but I never know what it’s gonna be.
Drinks for my friends
Don’t nobody move
This is a heist
“In the N. District of Calif. marijuana cultivators are converting our public lands and pristine forests into large-scale clandestine marijuana grow operations. They are cutting down trees and plants, they are diverting streams, polluting the water table, and the land with toxic pesticides. They are starting wildfires, bringing in undocumented workers from Mexico, some of whom may be the victims of human trafficking. Many of these workers who guard the grow operations do so with firearms, thereby endangering hikers who might unwittingly stumble in.” -Northern California US Attorney Melinda Haag
So is just about every other business or industry left in America or the various countries we occupy. The government’s job is to make it worse. As opposed to fixing it or helping to make it better. It’s what they do. They make things worse. It’s why we have a post technocratic Tea Party and a pre operatic OWS. By the way, did you catch her last name?
Try not to take it personally.
It is absurd this sudden bureaucratic thrust.
Last Friday, the four U.S. Attorneys from California–along with their respective counterparts here in Washington D.C. from the DEA and IRS–declared that a statewide crackdown against large-scale medical cannabis cultivators and sellers with national implications is currently underway. -NORML
The ATF waded in and announced that if you don’t sell a gun to a pot smoker, you might be violating that whole constitutional amendment thing, but you are red white and blue and they won’t fine you or harass you or try to find a way to put you in jail. Not this week anyway.
Some bill oozed from some committee last week that would make it possible for the government of the people to prosecute and incarcerate US citizens for thinking about pot in different country. Really. This is what our elected officials are up to.
They covertly and overtly kick the ass of anyone in banking for extending a hand by providing legitimate services to medical cannabis businesses that want nothing more than a compliant presence.
Don’t take it personally.
ask not what your country can do for you — ask what you can do for your country -JFK
government is not the solution to our problem; government is the problem. -Ronald Raygun
The truth is somewhere south of the twain.
I sometimes wonder are they so busy kicking the feet out from everyone else they don’t realize they waltz away on stumps.
I don’t pretend to know what they’re up to but I’m sure the impetus is somewhere between jackassery and genuinely ill conceived demagoguery.
Jackass demagoguery and money.
We know from whence the ass. From self righteousness emerged the ass. Where for art the money? Maybe it starts with the prison system. Lot of money there. Powerful union. America is but 5% of the world’s population but we imprison 25% of the criminals. We incarcerate more per capita than any country, state or sovereign prison island in the solar system. We are a free country. It’s a good place to start. I’m glad I’m not in that business anymore. Then there’s big pharma and the enormous threat posed by hemp cultivation to big oil so everything from textiles to energy……..
Don’t take it personal.
It is what it is.
Drinks for my friends.
A regal calico feline. 17 years. Old for a cat. An outdoor cat in Los Angeles. Tough and clever. Possessed of the slow moving wisdom. Her coat no longer supple. Her gait no longer graceful. Wits still sharp as new scissors.
She moves with purpose.
Deep set, aged eyes.
She is very old.
She’s already survived one human mother who passed prematurely from cancer. She remembers. For time longer than her ability to total, she’s enjoyed the care and love of another mother. Daughter of that mother.
She knows she’s in trouble and asks for help. She comes to the door. She wants in.
A swollen, painful tumor in her mouth. Her beautiful face is distorted. Smeared. Lopsided. Blood runs down the pure white fur of her chin and throat when she moves. She continues to eat, drink and groom, because she is brave and because that’s what she does.
I guess and hope it’s a bad tooth. An abscess. The first doctor, an ER doctor, doesn’t think so.
Jazzy understands it’s not.
Still, she spends time convalescing on antibiotics and pain killers in the comfort of D’s bed. Days go by. The antibiotics have no effect.
She remains herself and goes on about her business. There is food and water. A box of sand. All indoors. Not far from the bed.
On the way to the hospital the second time, D says to me, “I have no pictures of her” and it reminds me that I have no pictures of my own two girls. I love my girls and I know how much I need to do this for myself. I need pictures. I start to cry. Jazzy is behind us in the back of my car, in a cage. A cat carrier. I hate them.
She’s not quite content. She does ask us about what’s going on so we answer as best we can. She knows this too will pass.
The second doctor tells us a biopsy will be painful and the x-rays will be uncomfortable. She will need to be anesthetized. It’s most likely a particularly virulent cancer. Fast moving and lethal within a matter of weeks, maybe a month. She tells us if it’s in her mouth, it’s probably metastasized in her lungs. She says she wouldn’t blame us for taking her home for a few days or weeks. She says she would understand if we decided to do this. She wouldn’t blame us. Jazzy will deteriorate very quickly when it comes. She is a kind doctor.
What we need to know. She’s telling us it’s a done deal.
Jazzy’s mother knows what she needs to know. Jazzy’s mother tells me what she intends to do. She tells me this as she holds Jazzy in her lap, comforting her with gentle hands. I contract. My throat is full. I start to cry again. I find the doctor and ask her the questions I need to ask. To be sure, even though it’s not my decision. She answers my questions but I don’t hear or remember because I’m so sad and her eyes tell me what I need to know.
The doctor describes the procedure to us. She will take Jazzy to insert a catheter in one of her legs. We will then be allowed to spend the time we need with her in a more comfortable room until we are ready and then she’ll administer a shot that will render Jazzy unconscious before a second shot, an overdose, that will end her life. She tells us we can take all the time we need. I can’t help but think how absurd it is. How compassionate it isn’t. How much time?
She is a good doctor. She is kind. She understands and she does her best to comfort us. She talks to us very seriously but her eyes.
I spend a few minutes without noticing the room and then leave D alone with Jazzy. I’m a mess. D is brave. I go outside for a smoke. The Doctor finds me outside to tell me D is ready. The room is small and the lighting is cheesy somber soft. I don’t know what to do. D holds Jazzy in a small white blanket. I kiss Jazzy between her ears. I love that spot on a cat. I like the sides of their heads too, just behind their eyes. D strokes her softly and I swear Jazzy knows. She trusts.
It’s here that I hitch. There, that I start to get it. Here, the elegance of this proud and flawlessly humble animal. She asks us please not to suffer. She puts us in charge of that. Forgive us for we know what we do.
The doctor pets her head softly after the first injection. Jazzy sleeps. Without saying anything, the doctor prepares and inserts the second needle into the catheter.
I feel my face twisting and my chest ache. My tears are hot.
I will always remember this cat lounging in a planter furious with bees. She didn’t care. Drooling whenever I pet her. She didn’t talk much. She didn’t feel the need to tell me she owned the place.
Animals don’t even think about death until they are dying. It’s why they are far more gorgeous than humans.
A half minute and Jazzy goes gentle into this goodnight.
Then, the deepest sob I ever remember hearing.
A few minutes pass and the Doctor comes and collects Jazzy’s body quietly. She looks at us and I want to smile. She holds her gently, careful to keep the blanket wrapped around her.
I keep thinking how tragic it was. But it wasn’t.
Early one Saturday morning my own cat, lying in the middle of the tile floor, a small puddle of urine behind her. Early one Saturday morning. So sudden. No reason. She was only six and I was crushed. Months went by. She was a star.
This wasn’t tragic. It was beautiful.
No perfidy here.
It’s the innocence, the immaculate benevolence of kitties, that breaks my heart. They don’t even think about death until it’s on them. Are they pretending to be that cautious all the time? It’s a good thing they don’t have money. I love kitties. I adore them.
Rest in peace Jazzy you old rip.
Drinks for my friends.
“For my birthday I got a humidifier and a dehumidifier. I put them in the same room and let them fight it out.”
“I invented the cordless extension cord”
We do ourselves a disservice by assuming Obama is anything other than a centrist Republican. He’s a DINO, Democrat in name only. It’s not all bad, he is occasionally willing to wrestle in the mud with ugly, wart festooned Republicans, neocons and tea party retards. A crusading liberal he’s not; we can no longer afford that perception. It’s been an expensive nicety.
Obama is at best a moderate Republican from your father’s Republican party. He campaigned to the left and has rushed to the right ever since. It’s as kind as I can be. I understand he’s accomplished some monumental things but I’m nonplussed about his real agenda and I’m both wary and weary of guessing at his sincere intentions. I’m starting to wonder whether he’s a dick of plutocratic magnitude. He surrendered the public option before the shouting began, he ignores war criminals and the crimes they committed and is embarrassingly recalcitrant when it comes to the giant bank motherfuckers that control everything that happens. He’s no FDR and he makes LBJ look like a bird of prey.
If you’re a liberal, Obama kinda sucks actually.
This has never been about merely eating our peas or peeling off a band aid.
I gotta tell you this may be as much about the environment as his personal convictions. Nature versus nurture.
The center has shifted towards hard right buffoonery. The right has jerked violently in the direction of avarice. Religious zealotry. Madness. Austerity for the working masses. Contrary to public opinion or popular sentiment. It’s amazing. They just don’t give a single shit about anything unless it has to do with raping the ordinary and enslaving them to the wealthy and corporations. I hate it. I’m absolutely astounded that they’ve been able to convince so many Americans to go along with it. I can’t believe there are so many dumbasses.
So to be fair, Obama inherited a shitstorm and has no choice but to navigate pestiferous waters.
Because Americans are dumb as shit.
How is that?
How is it that a reasonable majority keeps chasing such mendacious fatuity?
I don’t know about you but that bitch is ugly and stupid and she stinks and I can’t figure out why we keep pursuing her. No amount of makeup or perfume can possibly assuage it. You can put lipstick on a pig but that’s all it is.
Oh, sorry, I’m not talking about Michele Bachmann specifically; I’m speaking metaphorically. I hear pigs are pretty damn smart, so forgive me. And I adore women in general, so allow this trespass with the understanding that it is anything but prurient.
Even Boehner and MCconnel have given voice to reason only to be subverted by a callow, amateur, jackackass like Eric Cantor. I know he’s a jackass because he makes no sense and he can’t belie a personal agenda that’s more about Eric Cantor than the American people. I fucking hate that guy. I’d like to see him piss up a rope or actually explain his position on anything.
Bring him to me. I will kick his ass. I will make him cry.
It’s unclear whether they know what they do. They appear to be so goddamn dumb that they are willing to jeopardize the entire world economy because they are selfish, ideological, thumb sucking brats. They walk out of meetings with the President of The United States and say shit like ‘He started it’ on national television.
The road to common sense and equitable solutions used to be through the middle. I no longer believe that. Clearly, Obama no longer sees that road as a pragmatic option.
Lawrence O’Donnell is indefatigable in his insistence that Obama is playing master poker/chess with our future. I don’t buy it. I’ll be ecstatic if he’s right but I’ve witnessed far too much capitulation to buy that bridge to nowhere over a swamp of prime real estate. We’re gonna get fucked. It’s gonna happen. I’m so tired of one step forward, two steps back. You’ll need to read my last couple of blogs to understand where I’m coming from here.
We keep fighting conflagrations with lime jello. I think that Boehner actually said the same the other day but that’s not what he meant. Irony.
They don’t fight fair and I don’t understand why we don’t fight harder knowing full well we can still do it honestly. I must be stupid because I just don’t get it. Forgive my naivete for not understanding why we refrain from kicking jackasses like Cantor in the teeth with logic and common sense, in public and in front of the American people. Why don’t we make this insipid little intellectual midget cry in front of his friends?
Why, do we instead, take him and so many like him seriously in any public venue?
I’ll do it. Let me at him. I would destroy him. I’m calling out Eric Cantor. Paul Ryan too. Remember that high school student who challenged Bachmann to a debate on the constitution? I’m not holding my breath.
Am I wrong in hoping, daring to ask, that we do to them what they shamelessly do to us so absent of sense, decorum and discretion?
Beware gin without ice. It tastes hot. Burns my tongue. Weird. I drink whiskey straight though.
They are such dicks.
I hate it when I run out of ice.
My girlfriend forgot to fill the ice trays again.
I really hope that asshole Rick Perry runs. He’s the queen of the harpies. He doesn’t cook. He doesn’t clean. He prays. Another empty suit from Texas. I should be careful what I wish for.
Raising the debt ceiling is about paying what we already owe. It’s a manufactured crisis.
This should really be a walk in the park. I can’t understand why it’s so hard. It’s goddamn Fisher Price. These people are idiots. It’s clearly in someones best interest. It sure as hell isn’t in that of the middle class. They wage war with absolute lies. Why can’t we do the same with the truth? Social security has fuck all to do with the debt or the deficit and the only problem it will ever have can be solved easily by making the rich pay into it. As is, it’s solvent for at least another quarter century. Medicare and medicaid could benefit from various things like means testing (not all that efficacious), but both are still one hell of a lot more efficient than what the private sector offers.
Our woes are not the result of “entitlement” programs. Our woes have nothing to do with the debt ceiling or deficits. Dick Cheney said deficits don’t matter and Reagan raised taxes seven times and the debt ceiling eighteen times and these idiots sing his praises louder than a gay men’s choir being castrated. Our woes are because of our wars. Stupid, pointless wars that protect the interests of the wealthy and provide opportunity for them to vacuum even more filthy lucre. Our woes are because the rich do not pay their fair share in taxes. Tax breaks for the wealthy do not, and have never created one single fucking job. My head nearly explodes whenever I hear some Republican asshole pontificate on what a big mistake it is to raise taxes on the wealthy in this precarious economic climate. 400 hundred of the wealthiest Americans possess more of the money than half, 150 million us. Tax rates are lower on them than they have ever been. The only mistake is the money they will give that particular douchebag to get re-elected, so that piece of shit can continue to advocate for that fat fuck to write off that fucking caviar on his eggs in the morning by the pool while the damn jet warms up.
It’s not about the deficit. It’s not about the debt. It’s not about “entitlements” – I hate that word, because we, the middle class actually pay for them and deserve to benefit from them. It’s about the American people and our opportunity to work hard for at least a living wage. It’s about jobs.
IT’S ABOUT JOBS. IT’S ABOUT THE RICH USING ONE ELABORATE CHARADE AFTER ANOTHER TO FOMENT FEAR OF THINGS WE HAVE NO REASON TO FEAR SO THEY CAN STEAL THE REST OF WHAT WE HAVE WHILE LOOK OVER OUR SHOULDERS AND SWEAT WHETHER TO CUP OUR GENITALS OR COVER OUR ASSES. CLASS WARFARE BY ANY OTHER NAME.
Again, the road to common sense and equitable solutions used to be through the middle. Not anymore.
The difference between us and them is the more powerful amplifier for their message. Well you know, that and morals and ethics and all that. Forgive me for pointing out we’ve begun to suck at that too.
Don’t go telling me we need to sell our souls too. God help us says the unapologetic agnostic.
THESE are the times that try men’s souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of their country; but he that stands by it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman.
We need to grow a pair.
Drinks for my friends.
In the news: Casey Anthony wasn’t convicted of murdering her daughter. Why do we give a damn? She probably did it but all evidence was circumstantial. There was no cause of death and no motive so get over it. I hear some English royalty arrived here in Southern California the other day. Again, who cares? I don’t. I can’t find a reason to. Apparently our women won some soccer contest. Good for you if it matters. Rupert Murdoch appears to be in real trouble over some obtuse fuckery hitherto unseen. This thing with Murdoch will be fascinating. Vulgar and salacious. Obscene and untoward. I’d love to see him suffer because he just might be the world’s hugest asshole.
Obama and the debt ceiling.
He blinks too soon. Almost always.
We need a president who wields not just a sword or an axe, but an electrically or pneumatically powered tool when it comes to policy. Just like the last one except he was stupid and Obama is smart. His wife said rather famously that if he could walk on water they’d accuse him of not being able to swim. So be it. That’s where we are. Own it Mr. President. Why behave in public if you’re living on a playground?
Just how much the electorate cares about our debt and the deficit is debatable but that level of concern sure as hell isn’t anywhere near what it is for jobs and incomes in a sustained state of atrophy.
I’m flirting with the notion of becoming a member of the “professional left”. That is, if I’m not already. This president could have quite literally been among the greatest in the relatively short history of America. He could have. I don’t care about the color of his skin and neither should you. It shouldn’t matter but it does. It matters to bigots and Republicans. It shouldn’t matter but it does. It’s the best reason they have for hating him. It’s the worst reason for hating anyone. Still, they do.
I may have been foolishly optimistic in my musings over what a second term might bring. Foolishly optimistic indeed, concerning this man over who’s election and subsequent inauguration I actually wept.
I confess to being overwhelmingly distraught over human nature and it’s effect on the human condition.
He has absolutely failed us. I try to remind myself what he’s accomplished. It’s not insignificant. How he’s championed our cause. The list keeps getting shorter. The cause keeps getting more diluted. The effect just can’t help but diminish.
It is what it is:
THE WARS, THE ABJECT NAKED FAILURE TO REGULATE BANKING THAT THRUSTED OUR HEADS INTO THE TOILET OF ECONOMIC DESPAIR , FAILURE TO EVEN PURSUE PUNISHMENT OF THE CULPABLE . FAILURE TO LEAD. FAILURE TO PROSECUTE THE BANKERS AND THE WAR CRIMINALS. FAILURE TO EVEN CALL THE BASTARDS ON IT.
Why? Give me a reason. A reasonable reason other than you’re not interested in stirring shit. Is it because you sought leadership of the free world knowing you were a pussy?
If Barack Obama is complicit in any way to cuts to social security, medicare or medicaid to offset or finance tax cuts to millionaires, billionaires or subsidies of any kind to obscenely wealthy corporations, my belief in hope and change will become the the vapor of foolish optimism it was consigned to be when my gullible reluctance for cynicism reared it’s pretty head for the last time. In short, if this takes place in any way shape or form, I am fucking done with this guy and I am completely prepared to seek and support any other pretender to the throne to which we anointed him with our collective gust of naive indulgence.
Chain yanking of the first order. The big picture is obscured by a shit smeared lens.
Fucking taxes. Barbarians at the gate being thrown the meat and bones of the poor and elderly so they might gobble and suck at the marrow. I fucking hate these guys. Why is it we can’t repeal the Bush tax cuts on the rich? It might just be that our president has a sore vagina.
Social security does not contribute to the deficit. It goddamn doesn’t. It is solvent for the next 26 years and is easily fixed beyond that. The private sector in terms of health care is an absolute clusterfuck when compared to medicare and medicaid in cost, efficiency and efficacy.
There is sufficient debate to note that the actual intention or substance of this as a news story may be suspect, particularly in the context of some pretty clear, overt and specific proclamations by Obama on the subject in the past. Regardless, whether it’s a mere “trial balloon” or an inauthentically spurious manipulation by mainstream media, it should be met with nothing less than a fierce vehemence and furious adamance of opposition by thinking Americans. It is far too dangerous a bluff to make, even if that’s all it’s intended to be.
How many Americans have counted on the parachutes of medicare, medicaid and social security being there for most of their lives? Cutting them will only accomplish one thing; it will worsen, egregiously, the economic malaise that every citizen save the wealthy, is already in the desperate throes of. The Republican strategy is to hold the the heads of the American middle class in sepsis until it can no longer breathe and blame it on on Democrats and Obama so they can once again seize control of all three branches of government in 2012 and finish the job of remaking us into a plutocracy. The writing is on the wall in glowing neon relief.
Obama needs to understand that nothing short of making a stand and calling bullshit on that strategy will enjoy the merest modicum of success.
Our only alternative might be a Republican executive and a Democratic legislature. Given the persistent and homogeneous spinelessness of Democrats, such a turd would likely never have any shine.
Wanna take that chance?
Be ready for it because it just might be the only one we have.
Drinks for my friends.
Happy independence day.
I sat with a retired couple the other day. Nice people but we were opposites.
Fox News religiously. How is it that people can be so nice and reasonable and still allow themselves to be so full of shit?
I still closed the deal. Took me a couple hours but I knew what was going to happen inside of fifteen minutes.
I don’t get paid enough to know that. I like people and they always like me. They pay me for that. Sometimes. Less often than not it feels like.
I can’t find a decent job to save my life and if I jump out the window, there’s no one to close it behind me so my cats don’t wander out and fall. I’m on the ninth floor. I guess I’ll have to leave notice that I’ll be jumping out the window. I can’t afford a gun right now. I’ll need someone to close the window just a few minutes after I take the plunge. Write me at this address if you’re up for it.
Maybe I hate myself.
It’s silly and pointless. We are already a third world country.
Within the next year or so 25% of our children will be below the poverty line. Check me me before you wreck me but it’s true according to 60 minutes. How many homeless do you think that means? Do the math.
From ’09 until now, 88% of all economic growth has entered through the ass pockets of corporate profit. In the same amount of time, you and I have seen about 1%. Absolutely NOT adjusted for inflation. Have you noticed the stock market just can’t get enough of itself? They love themselves. They should. They walk around with thousand dollar bills glued to their ridiculous jeans regardless of whether we can pay rent or not. The recession and the subsequent “recovery” have amounted to an even greater concentration of wealth. Do the math. As the smoke clears and we treat our own gaping ass wounds, these fuckers eat smooth velvet cake and giggle at our gullibility.
400 of them own as much as 170,000,000 of us.
Republicans continue to flirt with the debt ceiling like it’s a legitimate issue. Like it’s a real issue. They raised the debt ceiling under Dumbya 7 times with nary a whimper. Fuck me. Blow me. It’s not about that. They hold it hostage to further an insidious agenda of austerity. Eric Cantor wants you to believe that closing tax loopholes for corporate jet use is egregious enough for him to walk out of negotiations that would forestall what everyone agrees, everyone understands and everyone fears with good reason, will be an economic catastrophe. CAT. ASS. TROPHY. At the same time this officious little prick wants to see poor people lose access to medicine and Ramen noodles.
What a dick.
They keep telling the richest country in the history of mankind that it’s broke.
How can that be?
It’s not, but they want it to be.
It’s fucking bullshit.
I’ll tell you how. Three wars. Iraq, Afghanistan and Libya. Corporations like General Electric don’t pay a motherfucking dime in taxes while illegal aliens pay billions. We give subsidies to the richest, most profitable businesses in the history of mankind. We’re talking big oil here. Defense contractors. Corn growers. Ethanol is like nuclear power in that neither is fiscally legitimate and both are as dangerous as say, fracking. Way bigger money than any union. And they scream and piss and moan about salaries paid to teachers, cops and firefighters. They push and pine for austerity. They hate unions because they are the cornerstone of and for the middle class. They hate them all including a minimum wage because it’s “socialism”. They hate the middle class because it historically represents a common sense center of power, ethics, morality and accountability in this country.
They hate us.
Many of them should be in fucking jail along with the most prominent members of the last administration.
They don’t just want more, they want everything. They want all there is to get.
They label everything they oppose “socialism”. They assume they know what that word means but are sure that you don’t. They don’t understand that police and firefighters operate under one of the purest social constructs in existence. Or maybe they do understand.
They don’t care that families will roam the streets in search of food and medicine. Under the Ryan plan, they will and they just don’t care. They don’t try to truthfully explain the Ryan plan, they choose instead to lie about it. It’s kinda how you know they’re full of shit.
They can’t wait for the plutocracy to be complete. It is why they have grown so egregiously bold.
They look forward to it because they don’t give a mad fuck. THEY understand that WE no longer elect them. YOUR elected representatives don’t give a shit about you. They care only about getting re-elected so that the cycle continues. They covet power and influence because that’s precisely what we’ve allowed. The drug war is a sterling example. Stop imagining that your government is wringing hands over you getting addicted to pot or even heroin. They don’t care. They just hope to be able to throw you in prison when you become obstreperous and unmanageable because you smoke weed and we all understand that never happens.
Never. Ever. For the last forty years it’s been a great excuse for incarcerating hippies, activists, and brown people though.
America is a third world country. The only exception, the only difference is that we go around the globe blowing up every brown person who disagrees with us. While our teeth rot and our organs fail, while we lose our houses and our jobs, we prance around the world blowing everything up and scaring the shit out of everyone else. We are bullies. Assholes.
We hate ourselves.
We debate the debt ceiling, the budget and the deficit and seriously set the table with things like education and “entitlements” like social security, medicare and medicaid while ignoring the eight thousand pound fucking gorilla in the room that is spending hard earned tax dollars everyday to kill brown people. Everywhere. All the time. Every day. We kill more people everyday than any country on earth. We incarcerate more people than any country on earth and most of them are of an alternate color. We pay giant sums to do it all and pretend the argument is about the money we spend taking care of our own people.
Like that’s the bad thing. Like we can’t afford that.
They really want you to think that taking care of our own is what’s breaking our backs. They hope to make you see that it is YOU that is the enemy. It’s the biggest lie they tell you and that says more than a lot. If you believe that lie it means you are dumber than the people around you. It means you probably watch and believe Fox News even though the economic policy being sold to you will fuck you in the ass. It means you are incurably stupid.
It means you loath other people because you see yourself. Insidiously clever. I admit I’m impressed.
We pay more more than any country on earth for health care while only a fraction are covered and our health care sucks ass. Our education sucks and that translates to a seriously jeopardized future. They want this. They can’t wait for it. They think it will make you want to elect more crazy dipshits next time. They count on it. It’s their entire strategy.
I hear God loves the Tea Party, the stupidest motherfuckers in America and therefore, the world. Only in America can you be pro gun, pro death penalty, pro nukes, pro big energy, pro unilateral preemptive aggression (The Bush Doctrine), pro heterosexual marriage exclusively, pro racial discrimination (anti muslim, anti immigration, sexist…..) and still be “PRO LIFE”. What a bunch of asstards. We rock at stupidity. We are the champions of the world. No wonder every other country laughs at us behind closed doors because they fear us. We are vacant eyed dumb but we’ll fracture your skull with one roundhouse kick if you don’t shut up.
Like all bullies, we’ve been made to hate ourselves by abusive, damaged parents.
They do it all in the name of God and religion. Every single one of these hypocritical, loose lipped zealots says and does everything in the name of God and country like the two weren’t absolutely intended to be mutually exclusive by our forefathers who were way smarter and had had far more honest and far less avaricious intentions. It is killing me.
It’s an early 80′s horror movie.
Michele Bachmann is the absolute dumbest person to ever run for president of the united states. She can raise money like a riot and that all speaks volumes about the American electorate after George W. Bush was president for eight mindless years. Whatever happened to her debating that twelfth grader on the constitution? She spends her time proving she doesn’t know fuck all about our history and questioning everyone’s patriotism. She hates herself. They all hate themselves. It’s why they always get caught committing some egregiously hypocritical act that the rest of us gasp at and pretend to be indignant about.
We’re all the same.
We no longer manufacture, we no longer lead in innovation, our infrastructure crumbles, our schools and education system rot while our young are uninspired and understandably despondent. What’s wrong with the new generation? Us. We suck. We are a third world country. Soon, white people will be crossing the border to Mexico in search of a decent job. Canada will very soon have an immigration problem. And they like that. They want it. They can’t wait. They would twist and shout if the American middle class began to jump borders to make a better living just like all the brown people. Then we’ll really start to compete with them and hate them like never before. Maybe then NAFTA will be a real factor for the disadvantaged.
Will we be more or less of an empire then?
The answer is more.
There will be no balance without the equity of increased revenue AND cuts to our military. AND cuts in subsidies to fat fucks in three piece suits who offshore business accounts, defense contracts, manufacturing and customer service. AND tax increases on the wealthy.
We are not broke. We are morally and ethically challenged and it’s painfully clear as evidenced by the fiscal priorities we actually countenance or tolerate while we behave like the most important things no longer matter.
We are a third world country. Our elected representatives now represent anyone and everyone that would silence us. Our voices and will are under sustained attack and deliberate corrosion. The gulf between the American dream and reality continues to widen while the time to correct it grows shorter. America as we think of it, is about to be over. I don’t know about you but I don’t buy for a second that our ancestors walked with dinosaurs or that Reaganomics has done anything but ass rape working men and women. They can’t wait for you to embrace these things. And they are so close they can taste it.
They hate us because we are them. We hate ourselves because we are them.
Do the math.
Happy Independence Day.
Drinks for my friends.
A vagina on a woman is a powerful thing. On a man, it’s nothing more than a deficit.
On the other hand, I admit Johnny Depp is a lovely man. Most women would hit that.
I went door to door for a while.. It was humiliating.
That was then and this is now. Some days I wish I would be hit by a bus. Most days, I’ve no idea what to to do other than what I’m doing. What I do is take sales jobs where I’m promised that if I don’t suck I’ll make decent money. I don’t suck. I’m actually pretty good, which is why I want to to kill myself. Everybody wants to rule the world except me.
I keep running into men with vaginas. They’ve actually lied to me to get me to work for them. It’s happened. It’s not exactly an employee’s market.
That leads us to Tim Pawlenty, Jon Huntsman and Sarah Bachmann. I mean Palin, er….Michelle. Vagina vs. vagina. I love it but I can’t stand it. I adore it but it horrifies me and cracks me the fuck up. Huntsman is well liked and respected but can’t possibly pull it off unless he walks back every position he’s taken in the last few years while actually working for the dark side. Get it? You know, the black guy.
Anyway, he’s got arguably less charisma than T-Paw which is significant in and of itself and neither of them can command the kind of attention the two milf barbies do when it comes to stages and cameras, balloons and circuses, dogs and ponies and all that. Palin won’t run but she’ll pretend to as long as she manages to matter. That ship has sailed. Her expiration date is already a past due. She’s done. She’ll still be around but will continue to matter less and less until she melts under her pointy black hat.
Vagina vs. vagina.
Palin is stupid, but just smart enough to avoid buying her own crap and Bachmann is batshit crazy enough to actually believe what she so vehemently pontificates. Michelle Bachmann is the real deal. Sarah Palin understands very well that she’s a joke even though she would never admit it, so Michelle Bachmann necessarily scares the maxi pad off a cunt like Palin. Cross Sarah off the list. She won’t run because she’s lazy and stupid and just sane enough to own it.
I hear she’s canceled her purposeless and directionless bus tour. Wow. Really sorry to hear that. I am profoundly nonplussed.
Does that sound disrespectful? I’m so sorry for the sandwich I’ve caused you.
So then, neither of them is as big a dick as Romney, who’s forced to flee like a scared little girl from his own biggest success, efficacious health care for all of Massachusetts of course. Wildly popular of course. Demonstrably similar to “Obama Care” of course. So the Republicans hate Romney because he’s a secret double probation liberal in a conservative, but lustrous and gleaming ice cream suit. I’m giddy that they hate Guy Smiley over what they imagine is his commie, pinko oblongata. He’s long out front but they hate his guts. He’s their only chance but he has none, whether it’s winning the nomination or the presidency.
And he’s a Mormon. They hate Mormons because they aren’t “Christian”.
These people are fucked up. In a time when most Americans think that homosexuals should be allowed to betroth, exchange vows and consummate, when most people understand that taxing the egregiously wealthy could and should mitigate our fiscal maladies while it won’t have any deleterious consequences for an already anemic job market, when most of us have come to understand that pounding the pride and money out of the middle class is a huge mistake, these assholes still cling to the rubric of obsolete cultural and social mores by waging war on shit we just don’t care about anymore.
Pile on to that, their relentlessly ridiculous insistence that a draconian fiscal austerity be imposed with an iron fist on the people in this country that least deserve it or have the most piddling ability to suffer it. All in the context of record corporate and Wall street profits.
They aren’t just stupid. They are willfully ignorant. Hollow brinksmanship.
It takes my breath away.
We are witnessing the second act of a three act play about the collapse of the modern Republican party under a contagion of ideological absurdity. The first act was the 2010 election. This second act began with a brief, but defiant rally by the patient who now speeds inevitably towards submission to a breathing apparatus and feeding tubes. I can’t wait for act three, where we’ll discover whether the feeble and confused invalid signed a DNR (do not resuscitate) order.
Word is, the Darkman, Obama, is taking Pawlenty and Huntsman more seriously than the other vaginas. That’s telling. Color me fascinated. They clearly know more than I do. I still struggle with the idea that Obama, once the unlikeliest of candidates, has no real competition as we speak. Fucking crazy that the lock step, overtly disciplined machine has not anything but shit sandwiches on the platter. Gingrich farts in a vacuum and Trump keeps showing up with turd festooned catfish lips and a notorious exhale.
Imagine being anyone of these desperate fools and understanding that unless Obama is caught with the corpse of Anna Nicole Smith in The Oval, there is zero chance their name will issue from the mouths of school children. Much less a Texas text book portraying them strolling with dinosaurs.
I hear God might want Rick Perry to run. Like we need another Christian zealot from Texas. How much will the village miss it’s idiot this time I wonder. Praise the lord and pass gas.
They are all jackasses.
I’ve been pointing this out for quite a while and I have a really good reason for doing so. It is what it is. What it is now, is a pretty goddamn good chance that Obama will slide into a second term.
What needs to happen now, is what they’re most afraid of. This administration, without the specter of reelection hanging overhead, should rise to the occasion we’ve all been idealizing for years. The sack we hoped for and had a right to anticipate given the rhetoric and message sermonized, should be on full display come next year.
But it’s up to you. It’s always about you. It never stops being just that. This president needs to step up, but he won’t unless you do. He won’t if you don’t. All the things the “professional left” bitches about will never come to pass unless we and they continue to piss, moan and holler. Nevermind them that would pretend at the throne. FDR admonished, “Make me do it.”
“We don’t need need ‘new ideas’. We need the balls to implement the ideas we already know work. Cut corporate welfare. Slash the defense budget. Tax the rich. Support the strong unions that created a middle class in the first place. Build infrastructure and take the profit out of health care………” -Bill Maher
As of this writing, the New York state legislature has passed a bill that allows for same sex marriage. It’s an absolute unequivocal civil rights triumph. The times, they are a changin’. Suck on that you backward ass country fucking bigots. Your obsolescence is planned and coming home to roost.
The sale is always closer than you think.
Drinks for my friends.
I did the salad bar at Ralph’s tonight. The spinach looked fresh and there was three kinds of cheese. I should be in bed. The problem is, I’ve got this excellent salad and I’m not hungry and I should be in bed. Conundrum. Stress shrinks my stomach. It’s been good to me so far. I even bought a jar of Bob’s. I’ve got luxury dressing. Bob’s (big boy) Bleu Cheese Salad Dressing is among the finest things mankind has ever produced, recorded and mixed.
I’ve decided I’ll only get through a third of this salad but it feels good to eat plants. Tons of fresh earthy spinach, tomatoes and onions and mushrooms and olives. I always make it too big. There’s a disconnect between my appetite and my stomach. I threw on some of those little orange mandarin slices that look like bent index fingers, but orange and kinda translucent. Red onion. A modicum of oil and vinegar. Fetta, bleu and parmesan.
I practice the high art of saladry. Somebody bring me some water.
I can’t help it. I think in colors and sounds and tastes and textures. I wonder just how different that is. Do most people estimate all that they take in on a scale that is from black to white? I hear people discuss things in terms of from one to ten. Percentages. Is everything gray? Somewhere between black and white? On a scale of zero to one hundred? Do they oversimplify experiences and perceptions for the sake of convenience and or common definition?
Of course they do.
Yet there is no way we could have cell phones and computers or even the combustion engine if even half of us thought so inside the box.
It makes me think of the multi level chessboard from the original Star Trek. Remember Spock kicking some crew member’s ass with an emotionless countenance?
We arrived at music long before the nuclear bomb. I’ve learned that so many of us are dumb and quite a few of us are unbelievably smart.
The human race is what it is.
I never made music, but I facilitated it. I was pretty good at it. I did my best to make it sound like it did in my head. It may have been selfish or egocentric to render it so accordingly but it was all I had. All I knew to do. The people who weren’t as good at it as I was didn’t even do that. I felt it, tasted it, saw it. I heard it in my head.
As a segue, it’s a stretch but bear with me. The field of Republican candidates is a joke. Silly fucks. Today’s temperature indicates not one of them has a chance in hell. Still, not one viable candidate. They don’t see anything. They can’t or don’t or refuse to picture a damn thing. They don’t care. They don’t want to. Opportunists all. Present for the opportunity, nevermind the job. All there to boost book sales or speaking fees. Republicans love money so much they’re not ashamed to run for president; not only hoping, but knowing they can’t win. Okay, maybe not all of them. Nobody’s ever heard of Pawlenty. He’ll lose and write a book that no one will buy.
All resplendent on a stage the other night for the “debate” to say mendaciously fanciful things about the president. Lies behind smiles. So afraid to confront or actually engage one another. Back to back they faced each other. With their swords they declined to even shoot at each other.
Bachmann had the most composure. What does that tell you?
I can’t believe they gave Newt a spot. What does that tell you?
Did I watch it? Can Sarah Palin name the capitol of Washington DC? See what I’m saying?
The answer is fuck no. I hate a predictable movie.
It’s a goddamn joke. Not one of them is taking it seriously. There is not one viable Republican candidate. Not one. Although Romney’s magic underwear is in a temporary twist because he’s leading the pack. I love Michele Bachmann as much as I loathe her. She’s dumb as a stick but makes Palin look like she suffers from fetal alcohol syndrome. Both might be milfs so there lies the impetus for their popularity. It sure as fuck isn’t brains or ability. Whatever. It’s the only reason anyone gives a mad fuck. And the only people that give that mad a fuck breathe through their mouths and ears.
I used to be able to breathe through my ears but that was a few million years ago. It’s no longer necessary.
You know, evolution and all.
Take Newt and Romney. Guy Smiley is a used car salesman in that he’s clever but stupid. Really nice hair. Handsome. Zero integrity. A champion of health care before it was a liability among the truly stupid. He can’t run on the only success he ever had in office because any power for the people is an anathematic litmus test for membership in good standing of today’s Republican party. Gorgeous irony. He’s rich and he’s got nothing else to do and running for president has been huge for his brand before, so he’s back. He is an idiot. I could smoke him at tic tac toe by persuading him to let me go first every time. He would, because he’s a dumbass.
Newt is absolutely the same deal, but both smarter and stupider simultaneously. All about his brand. An intelligent man making a living off of willfully ignorant people. He makes me think in terms like pie faced, salamander and asshole. Every important person in his campaign quit last week. They told him to pound sand because they simply couldn’t live with themselves. Nothing but a blowhard. Newt is an absolute jerkoff who fancies himself an intellectual and then there’s his wife. Talk about Stepford. Weird Barbi vacant stare and mannequin grin…….haunted and soulless …..and she’s involved in all decisions. Real First Lady material. I’d be afraid of her in a dark alley because I know she has special powers. She can mysteriously inspire a man to full rigidity only to fang all the blood therefrom.
Ever notice Trump has a mouth like a goddamn catfish?
Look. we all just want security. And these people are clowns who just want us to be afraid.
What they will do for as long as they can get away with it, is peddle fear. Fear porn. Bullshit, hypocritical loathing of anyone different in any way. Fags, dykes, niggers, spics, towel heads, socialists, peaceniks, Satan worshipers, atheists, union workers, the poor, the disenfranchised ……….anyone not White Anglo Saxon Protestant. Even though that shit is so 1950′s, Orange County-Alabama.
They will continue their duty as profligates to promulgate the lie that America is broke and perpetuate the myth that it’s all our fault in order to propagate austerity so that the rich get richer, the poor get poorer and the global concentration of wealth marches on. Understand that they know it doesn’t matter whether they get elected or not. They know they won’t. It just doesn’t matter. It’s not about that.
I ate the whole salad.
The Republican party got me stoned for a month one night. Then they drug tested me and I lost my job. Now I can’t get unemployment benefits because of the drug test I failed. So I had an abortion. Now I can’t vote. That’s big government. Does this look infected to you? They seem to be afraid of me because I look white but there’s a chance I might be black. Actually, I’m a Scottish Muslim. They hate to be confused. I’d hate to be that confused too.
Bumpy and pink watermelon flavored pudding.
Just wait ’til Obama doesn’t have to worry about being reelected. Howitzer’s may fire from the rose garden. Gatling guns rattling and exploding I expect. A conscious man who need not fear the courage of his convictions or his actions from here on in. I hope. This is what they fear most. They do their worst. They know they their chance is no more than a fart in a whirlwind.
Drinks for my friends.
We are different as Americans. We would be wise to understand that. It would be smart for us to own that we are different in ways that are profound and unique in the eyes of the world. That lotsa people think we’re assholes.
If we could just do that.
I failed to close a deal with a couple from a certain culture the other day even though I understood the cultural division that existed like a turducken between us. I knew what to do. Where to go. But I didn’t. It’s all over but the shouting. And that’s my point. I know people. I know how to do that. I knew what to do but I didn’t do it. I’m pissed at myself because I’m a salesman and I knew exactly what to do, and I didn’t do it.
I tell myself new job and don’t rock the boat on a very public sales floor. Arena. Coliseum. So I didn’t, but I should have.
See, he lied to me.
I should have confronted him. I should have addressed it.
It made me think. People are different at least as much as we are the same. I’m white. You’re a lovely shade of olive. We look different. So what? The difference in complexion is not the point. We really need to move beyond the simple notion of racism and begin to know that cultural differences are what cause unrest.
Despite America being the melting pot of diversity, the last bastion for poor and huddled masses yearning to be free, only recently have we managed to entertain the idea of equality when it comes to those of a different color. So now we opine about our cultural differences as though they’re inherent. Yup. We’re onto something here. They aren’t inherent but they are the next best thing. Indoctrinated. Inside America we have profound cultural divides. The very few Americans that manage to think beyond borders stare at a potent mix of animosity and defiance and realize it’s just outside the door.
We’ve begun to sag in the middle. We’re not what we used to be. Quite a bit of gray behind the eyes and above the ears.
If we could just see the world for what it is and stop viewing it in the context of us. Stop thinking it’s about us. If we could just do that.
And then if everyone else could do that too.
I believe I have just solved everything.
So yeah. Skin in the game. It’s all about how much you stand to lose.
Let’s talk about Anthony Weiner.
I am compelled to put his transgressions into context. That word again.
You have your David Vitters, your Newt Gingrichs and your John Ensigns…………all champions of family values and absolute fucking hypocrites who’s crimes make those of Mr. Weiner look Fisher Price. Anthony Weiner never staked a claim to any of that real estate. Family values. Horseshit indefinable morality. It’s worth pointing out but really beside the point when all is said and done. What he was, was an extraordinarily adept firebrand for progressive thinking, ideas and concepts. He had the courage of his convictions and he demonstrated them with an enviable adroitness made up of equal parts humor, intelligence and aplomb. As an unapologetic liberal, I liked and admired him.
An ideal beast.
What frustrates and disappoints me so profoundly is that his indefatigable pursuits and powerful confidence will be forever be compromised by pictures of his hairless torso and a horse package barely contained by a pair of gray, butt hugging briefs. Just what the fuck is up with a man so obviously intelligent and talented, overtly courting disaster by so recklessly inviting a foregone conclusion via such public media such as twitter and facebook? Mind bogglingly dumb. Obtuse. Ridiculous. Embarrassingly stupid. What the hell?
Understand the danger here, if John Edwards for example, had managed to further his charade a step or two more, John McCain and Sarah Palin would be our current ringmasters. If that doesn’t scare you, call 911 so at least a professional can check you for a pulse.
I’d love to tell you that I’m baffled. That I’m confused. That my mind can find no purchase into this mystery of hubris and foolishness. But I think I understand. It’s the same thing that mysteriously manifested with John Edwards. Lead Singer’s Disease. LSD for short. I’ve dealt with a lot of lead singers and lead guitar players, programmers and producers. I was one of those and I was a cocky motherfucker. A lovely woman who now hates me described me as “puffy”. Every public person, celebrity, elected official and local news anchor struggle with and suffer from such malaise. The good ones rise above it. The weak ones succumb. The in between ones, the huge majority, end up being exposed or not but they are always guilty by degrees. The personality requisite for fronting a rock band is more than similar to that of a politician. When they don’t get that record deal or fail to get elected, the reaction is always bitter and blame is everywhere but on them. When they do succeed, a sense of privilege or entitlement begins to take hold.
I was in between and guilty by more than a few degrees.
For an ordinary individual, this could very well be all but a victimless trespass. No actual live penis insertion. Nothing hot and sweaty. No exchange of fluids. Still, a matter for wife and husband. But in the instance of an ambitious, publicly elected federal representative, victims are abundant and prolific. His constituents, colleagues, friends and family. I am none of those. You probably aren’t either, but he was much bigger than all of that. So at the end of the day, it is you and it is me. It is. We pay. His voice is no longer viable; he’s no longer credible. He did take on dragons in his day. Flying, fire breathing serpents will no longer be on his list. He’s off our list of brave warriors for probably ever.
“Who are these men of lust, greed, and glory?
Rip off the masks and let’s see.
But that’s no right – oh no, what’s the story?
There’s you and there’s me……” -Supertramp “Crime Of The Century”
I wish fiercely that Big Bad Bill would not have lied about his blowjob. He should have told that vociferous asshole Ken Starr that it was none of his business. Anthony Weiner should have done the same from the start. After all, no crime was committed.
But, I’m absolutely furious with Mr. Weiner for so thoughtlessly engaging in behavior that jeopardized everything he stood for and everything we stood behind him for.
Anthony Weiner, you shameless prick, pun intended, do I think you should resign?
I believe Democrats should hold themselves to a higher standard than Republicans, who quite conspicuously do not. We must be able to wake up in the morning, look in the mirror and own that we are better than them. They claim the moral high ground but we actually hold the deed and we’re paid up. I’m more than sure that Anthony Weiner is a better human being than Andrew Breitbart, Rush Limbaugh or any other right wing fucktard, goofcock, dipshit that masquerades as journalist these days. It’s a tough call. I really liked him. I’m conflicted. What he risked is all we who supported him hold sacred. He did that willingly. What he’s done is inexcusable, not for what it actually was but for the inevitable consequences.
I must tell you that I never judge a man or woman for such failings. It’s not my business.
But his goddamn nonchalant insouciance pisses me off in light what is so glaringly evident. He forced his actions into our purview.
So yes, Mr. Weiner. I suggest you take a walk. I sincerely hope you can repair the damage done to your family and friends. I suspect you can still prosper in life as a private citizen. You are clearly bright and accomplished. You’ll be fine, provided you can make peace with those close to you. It’s not that what you did is actually so bad. It’s that you so casually disregarded why we all believed in you for some spurious pleasure. You lied about it. You are a rockstar no more.
Your best efforts from here on in, will merely bruise the message.
I suggest you start drinking heavily and walk away.
Today, because of you, we all lose.
I thank you with all of my heart and mind for your service.
Please step away from the vehicle.
Drinks for my friends.
I used to dread dressing professionally. Now I’m okay with it despite my lack of professional clothes. I compensate for ordinary shoes. I have just enough to get through a week of work. I hate how obvious it is when I drip after pissing because I don’t wear underwear. Tan slacks tend to belie the fact that you just took a leak if you’re not very careful. I’ve hated underwear since I was in jr high; made my crotch itch like bugs were having a rodeo in my burgeoning thatch of barely pubescent straw.
The whole showering with other sometimes enormous dicks and harrier balls traumatized me too. The last thing you want when you’re twelve is overgrown jocks evaluating your package and discussing it with cheerleaders.
Just like starting a new job.
It seems I’ve had as many new jobs in the last year as months on the calendar. There was at least one asshole I couldn’t possibly work for without punching him in the mouth or bombing his house. I absolutely could have made it rain for him but he couldn’t see past the line of blow in front of him. Complete loser. Been there, done that. There was another group of people that I wish could taste their bad behavior like rancid their breath. Dicks in vaginal clothing. Seriously. In between were all the random sales jobs. Window treatments at Costco, two brief auto warranty jobs and a stint as a door to door for the environment. I’ve got humility and experience. I’ve sold everything from glass dildos to pot pipes, merchant services to customized rolling papers.
All the sudden I’m well rounded and middle aged.
I wash my hands and shake them at my pants to make the issue smaller.
My life is crazier than I ever would have imagined but I’ve learned that I’m not crazy and I’m not stupid.
Still, sometimes I try to think but nothing happens.
I see people. I’m pretty sure I do. It’s obvious when they’re amplified by the media. Yet ordinary people are easy to spot but not so easy to figure out. I’ve made a living for quite some time by figuring people out. It’s what I do.
I am public. I have become a face for yet another company.
Sales is one of the craziest things anyone could ever choose. A former best friend drug me into it fifteen years ago. He and I no longer talk. He wasn’t my best or only friend but he was a good one while it lasted. I’m grateful he pushed my face into it.
But it is nothing.
It ain’t shit.
Yesterday was Memorial Day.
I’m a peacenik. A pacifist. I’m absolutely confident that the war we chose to wage in Iraq was without reason. Zero logical justification. The sheer number of dead on either side was for not one goddamn good reason. Not one. It breaks my heart. Because it was stupid. Because it was never about justice or honor or decency. Never about a legitimate threat or an impending threat or an inevitable consequence. All of it, in it’s entirety, was absolute bullshit. Talk about wanting to punch motherfuckers in the mouth.
It really pisses me off.
America has not waded into a conflict with just cause since WWII. We are dangerously stupid and absurdly wealthy and our most convenient currency is human life, whether it’s us or them, and that makes us inexcusably evil. What we are about now and how we are perceived beneath the world’s proscenium is abhorrent, audacious and awful. Without question, America is now the glassy eyed bully in the bar. Six foot five, two hundred and eighty pounds, fully willing to swing on you and give you a life threatening concussion for objecting to grabbing your girlfriend’s ass on her way back from the ladies room. That is us. That is America today.
There are lots of things, aspects of this reality that engender my bitter disgust. The most profound is exactly how and without any care or compassion we execute such egregious and ridiculous madness with the currency of human life like it matters so little. Pennies from heaven and dollars from hell. Our four plus thousand dead and their hundreds of thousands dead don’t matter nearly as much as Dick Cheney’s buddies profiting like fucking pirates from the whole thing. Profiteering. Raping and pillaging both us and them. I swear to you that if they lost a handful of thousands of lives and we lost hundreds of thousands, it would still be the same. They would sell and we would buy the fear and it would be the same. They don’t give a mad fuck because our military is nothing if not expendable in their eyes. Because human life is currency to them.
Our men and women are free money and an absolute means to an end. The end belongs to them and so does the means.
It is how they see it.
They should all be in prison. They should all be waterboarded. They should all be tortured and when it’s over, nail their gray bearded ball sacks to the floor, set the goddamn house on fire and give the bastards a dull knife to get away with.
God Bless America.
Afghanistan is the same deal. Osama Bin Laden is dead. So what? Like he had anymore to do with anything than we did. We made him. We made Saddam Hussein. Somebody tell me exactly what we’re up to and why we’re spending ten billion a month on this war while earnestly attempting to push Medicare and Social Security through the floor and into the basement. Who’s brainchild is this? How is it that any responsible American can countenance it?
Seriously, are you people new? Are you retarded? Was your nursery and crib painted with lead based paint? Was the garage too close to your bedroom? Why aren’t we in the streets when our very own people are dying tragically and violently for no good reason? When hundreds of thousands who never wanted it and have no idea why there’s this sudden, lethal shitststorm, are facing death everyday? When our veterans and mentally handicapped are living out of shopping carts and sleeping in cardboard boxes? Or when our seniors or chronically ill can’t afford life sustaining medical care? When our good and honorable soldiers are dealing death and destruction on a scale that I guarantee most, if not all of us, are ill equipped to comprehend? Fuck me this is beyond stupid. They keep ramming down our necks how broke America is and we keep spending the amounts of money it would take to fix it all every goddamn month on killing people who will never, ever be any kind of threat to any of us in any way.
Holy shit this is stupid, and so are we.
Sometimes I try to think about it and nothing happens.
I don’t wonder at all about why the rest of the world thinks we’re a bunch of ignorant, self obsessed jackasses without an ounce of compassion or self awareness. That is precisely who and what we are. We are dicks, losers and idiots. How many actually took Donald Trump, the world’s most penultimate, most accomplished blowhard seriously as a viable candidate for president of the United States? How many will actually entertain similar notions regarding Sarah Palin or Michelle Bachmann? It’s looking more and more like both intend to run. Both will end up as queens of fodder for comedians everywhere but what does it say about America when two such obviously brain dead bitches think they have a chance? Don’t get me wrong, I can’t wait. But really? It, they, give me pause.
But I can’t wait because I still have a sense of humor.
So with all sincerity, here’s my toast for the fallen. For the brave and unselfish. I am sincerely sorry that your life was offered and given. I can’t tell you how sorry I am about your missing limbs or that your blind or deaf or unable to process a thought or ever get a reasonable night of sleep. I respect and admire your courage and commitment. Thank you. I don’t doubt you signed on with noble and selfless intentions.
Thank you. And I’m really sorry about all of this.
It pains me to recognize that what you aspired to was never going to be what you hoped and thought it would. What you were told and what you died for for was a lie. It’s not your fault. They lied to you. Sixty years ago, men and women like you fought and died for very good reason. Men and women like you did a wonderful thing. You still did the best you could to be the best you could and you died trying to be the best you could. You still died for your country. Or now you’re an eggplant because of your country. Your country has changed. And that makes me sorry. When I think about it and something does happen, my stomach rolls over and I want to puke and cry. I am sorry to and for everyone who survives you. All the people who now live without you or what you once were, with giant, gaping unfillable holes in their hearts. I’m sorry and sad because sooner or later, many if not most of the people who survive you, will realize that you died for just south of nothing.
I hate that. It breaks my heart, but it’s true.
What do I know?
I’m just a salesman.
Happy Memorial Day.
Drinks for my friends.
I’m pretty pleased the world didn’t end whenever they said it would last weekend. I’m kinda pissed too.
It’s incredibly sad that so many of us actually bought into that shit.
I need to point out how ridiculous this nonsense is. Was. Will always be.
Give me a break. Nobody knows anything about the end of days any better than anyone else.
My theory is that we’ll see it coming. The rest of the bees will die off or Pakistan will get all jiggy with their nukes. It’s going to be obvious. We’re going to see it coming even if it’s an asteroid the size of a Double Western Bacon Cheeseburger. It absolutely will not be a surprise. That doesn’t mean it’s not coming. But it does mean we’ll see it and fear it for concrete reasons and the concept of ‘rapture’ will be the last thing escaping our lips.
I hate that there’s so many jackasses in America.
Fuck me, we’re stupid.
I’m just so frustrated. I guarantee that most, if not all of the people who believed this ridiculous crap actually vote. That doesn’t just scare me, it makes me authentically paranoid. Lots of really dumb people voting. Oh my. It’s why Dumbya got elected. It’s why jackwagons like Gingrich still enjoy the Sunday morning political talk show circuit, no matter what he says. It’s why kids in Kansas or Texas have to suffer through an absurd curriculum that includes creationism and walking with dinosaurs. These limp minded, backward ass country fucks are desperate for a reason to believe in a Santa Clause in the sky. Someone to absolve them for banging their sister or lusting after Timmy, the nine year old paper boy.
They use God to justify racism, bigotry and sexism.
They can’t handle the truth. They suck and they are morally and ethically reprehensible but they want to blame it on the Devil and be absolved by Jesus because the bible tells them so.
These roundheaded mouth breathers vote. Consistently.
They are what’s wrong with all of us. What’s wrong with everything.
They tell you that America is a “Christian Nation”. That our forefathers intended as much. Bullshit. We fled England in large part to avoid religious persecution. Most of them sought to insure that we’d forever be protected from divine intervention or any kind of God fuckery.
They lie. Excellent liars are excellent liars because they believe their own lies. I’m a salesman. The only way I could sell crap is if I didn’t believe it was crap. I don’t do that. I know the difference. The people that thought the world would end last weekend don’t know the difference. They are tragically gullible. They shouldn’t be allowed to reproduce, much less drive or vote. But they can and they do.
I am not at all sorry to tell you that the alleged master of all ceremonies according to any religion never existed at all and was only made up thousands of years ago to explain natural disasters and the attendant human suffering because science was in it’s prenatal stage.
I am sorry to tell you that the millions of people who still believe such horseshit still vote and that’s why we have the Republican party.
We need to get religion out of our politics. How many times do they have to be proven absolutely and completely wrong about every single goddamn thing before we stop paying attention to anything and everything? They tell us not to fuck everything in sight while they do just that but then ask for God’s forgiveness and that makes it okay. They are vociferous and obstreperous in compelling us to limit a woman’s choice about her own body but then refuse to provide any care or alternative to that woman when she brings that fetus to term. They railed against “Death Panels” but tell us two years later that we need to end social programs that would prevent grandma from dying on the street.
You know it as the Ryan budget and they are staring at their own demise.
Still, this is regoddamndiculous and these people should all die in the first frost of the soonest winter.
God is the problem.
Ronald Reagan said something like government isn’t the answer to our problems. Government is the problem.
God is the problem.
Drinks for my friends.