Archive for May, 2014

The land of several large breasted women for a month one night

“The world is a comedy to those that think; a tragedy to those that feel.” -Horace Walpole.

What the fuck is wrong with us?

Congress refuses to help people out of the mess they made. Unemployment for 1.3 million families abruptly revoked from families who’d much rather have a goddamn job that pays more than $7.25 an hour. 4 or 9 million by the end of the year, depending on what you read. We spend how many times as much on defending, promoting and even subsidizing the most profitable industry in the history of humankind who, by the way, would have us believe it’s perfectly okay to drink flammable tap water?

West Virginians can’t drink their water but a poll reveals they don’t blame the company that poisoned it.

WTF?

I get no pleasure out of anything anymore. I don’t look forward to anything.

That’s not true.

25 songs I want to hear today.

Ode to Billy Joe (Bobby Gentry), Back in Black (AC/DC), Junebug Vs. Hurricane (Lucinda Williams), Shadowboxer (Fiona Apple), Sultans of Swing -live version (Dire Straits), Bloody Well Right (Supertramp), Funk 49 (Joe Walsh), Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes (Paul Simon), Walk and Talk Like Angels (Toni Childs) She Talks To Angels (Black Crows) My Hero (Foo Fighters), Big Iron (Marty Robbins), Ice Cream Man (Van Halen), The Zoo (Scorpions), Barricuda (Heart), Wichita Lineman (Glenn Campbell), Boy Named Sue (Johnny Cash), Tommy the Cat (Primus), Life Without You (Stevie Ray Vaughn), Dragon Attack (Queen), When The Levy Breaks (Led Zeppelin), Imagine (John Lennon), I will Always Love You (Whitney Houston), Roll With The Changes (REO Speedwagon), Rock Candy (Montrose).

What this is, is a vulgar display of abject prowess.  A tragedy.  A mash up of unused ideas that weren’t going anywhere but sounded pretty good.

Bear with me.

There was this zaftig woman once with bleach blond hair who french kissed me in a glass elevator at the Tropicana in Vegas. It was awesome. I kissed her back. I saw it coming. She telegraphed all of it. I ended up in her room much later and told her to leave her bra on because it was white and her tits looked fantastic in it.  She had a great tan and her bikini lines were above the cups. She was very sweet and accommodating. I think her name was Tammy.  Wow.  She gave me her card and a warm damp towel.

I never had any contact with her again.

We as a country, insist on making stupid people famous.

I’ve pretty much given up on the idea of suicide. Really hard to prepare for. Afraid of all the solutions. Despite there seeming to be a good reason to do it every day, I’m resigned to the fact that I will probably die before I really want to anyway. Now I tell myself I shoulda ended it that day when the supreme court masturbated in public or that day a year or so ago, when congress forced it’s mottled penis in the ear of an innocent weeping kitten.

I have found that one thing women I’ve had anything to do with have in common is a beyond casual, often profound appreciation of quality bread products. Garlic knots. Toast points. Fresh, yeasty, aromatic loaves. With rosemary and garlic. In fact, I’ve never myself had sincere fondness for a woman who’d no less than swoon over a fragrant crusty loaf and the availability of various oils, tapenades and condiments for the dipping, immersion and unctuous slathering.

Chicks are sensual. So are cats. I find myself surrounded by estrogen and femininity.

The real problem is this.  We used to be the most powerful nation in the world.  We are still the mightiest and the wealthiest nation in the world.  By virtue of those things,  our corporations are the most dominant in the world.  And those corporations have left America behind.  It’s truly a global economy and America doesn’t matter nearly as much as she used to.  American companies have decided that. 

Oh boy.

Maybe I should become a luthier and a socialist.

I get up in the morning and regardless of the success of my sleep cycle there is juice. Tomato, apple, cran-grape, orange, Gatorade and often something flavored with blueberry and or citrus. We’re big on juice.  So we bought a juicer.  Now I make all kinds.  One day a week I buy a couple bags of good organic produce and grind it into liquid.

While I do this I look for and listen to records I’ve forgotten about.

I check my email. We’re still bombing Yemen and governor Christie is such an asshole that he’ll never even be elected dog catcher and Beyonce shows some thigh in a breathtaking seasonal frock while her sister beats up her husband in an elevator.

I think Jennifer Hudson was way hotter when she was “fat”.  She did that because bitches were jealous.

Maybe I should become a luthier and a socialist.

Who the fuck is Justin Beiber?

Why do you need more ID to vote in red states than to buy a gun or even liquor?

Why do people care more about who gets medicare/food stamps/unemployment/abortion than who gets a gun?

Why do most pro life people assume that if you’re pro choice, you’re pro abortion? Why can’t they understand that all it means is there is a modicum of humility and a great deal of common sense in our understanding that it’s just none of our goddamn business?

I contemplate the living room from different angles. I talk to myself. I talk to bathroom. Then I contemplate the bathroom. I conclude we need a hamper and shelves. I just like shelves. We don’t really need them. The toilet is pretty dirty. So is the sink.  We could use a hamper.

Maybe I should become a luthier and a socialist.

I contemplate the kitchen and how there is no such thing as too much counter space.

We bought a new broom. We needed one for the linoleum.

When I can longer decide if I’m insane or getting a real grip on things, when I just have no idea, when epiphanies begin to pop like those old instant flash bulbs on cheap cameras that leaked blue foam all over the smooth foil hemispheres they came nestled in……………..

When all else fails, I get in the shower and begin my ritual. I avoid it because it is my most introspective zone. It is here my future and past collide.  I shave and wash and scrub. Where did I go wrong? My torso is immense. Where do I go from here?  My legs seem to atrophy. I wonder if this is cancer. My mother grows more alone by the day. I spare no yoga when cleaning my trunk and my junk. Maybe this infection isn’t as bad as the last. My sciatica seems to be better because of my new shoes. I have a toothache and just got insurance.

I recenter the bath mat.

I’m a salesman.

It’s an excellent product.

It saves lives.

It’s cheaper than a cable or cell phone bill.

They just want to see the fucking brochure.

If I emerge from the shower and my youngest kitty is there to yell at me while not looking at me………   she just asks what into space.  I assume it will be a good day.

She cracks me up.

I take stock.

I have a family. There is love. They care about me and I care about them. They love me and I love them.

I count my blessings.

A very dear friend said to me not long ago in an airport lounge that she would obtain a bottle of pills and that would be it.  If it got bad, she meant.  If it got to be too much she meant.  She’d just take the whole bottle. She looked me in the eye when she said said it.

She saw me.

I saw her.

That blue foam goes cold just a minute after the bulb pops.

“To be, or not to be, that is the question—
Whether ’tis Nobler in the mind to suffer
The Slings and Arrows of outrageous Fortune,
Or to take Arms against a Sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them?” -The Bard

I just can’t stand it.

I think I still have potential.

Drinks for my friends.

How to talk to the Republican about Benghazi

It is not the intent of this author to condone, sponsor or foment violence of any kind on any animal or human.

Let’s say the republican approaches you with Benghazi on its lips.

Here’s what you do.

If the republican is male and you’re right handed, raise your left thumb and say “See my thumb?” Then ball up your right fist and hit them as hard as you can in the mouth. Then say “Gee, you’re dumb.”

Left handed people use the opposite hands respectively.

As the republican tries to get up, and if they are male, kick them hard enough in the torso so they land face up and ask them what the names of the four dead Americans they care so deeply about are.

As the republican gasps for air and looks at you with complete confusion, produce a world map without anything but borders, no text, and demand the republican show you where Benghazi is.

When the republican can’t, commence urinating on the republican.

Offer the republican a warm damp towel and a comfortable place to sit. Show some compassion for fucks sake. The republican probably isn’t evil, merely stupid, brainwashed or willfully ignorant.  Ask the republican why they are so much angrier with the administration than the people who actually killed the four Americans.

When two women are the scenario, there is the option to bitch slap the republican or move immediately to the interrogatory. Pissing flurry is also optional. Male democrats when confronting female republicans should definitely move directly to the interrogatory.

Do not clean the appliance with water when still connected to an electrical source.

Once the republican is comfortable, put on your warmest and most sincere face and remind them that there were thirteen such attacks under the last president.  60 dead.

Remind the republican that in one such attack under Reagan over two hundred marines perished. Remind the republican that under Reagan at least, fingers were pointed at the people who carried out the attack. Not Reagan.  Not the head of any intelligence agency. Nobody even questioned Bush despite the wars he and his administration lied to get us into, that ultimately cost 4,500+ lives.

Wars that actually opened the proverbial door for such virulent ant-American sentiment.

Wars that led to Benghazi!

Point out that in the last hour, more people have died in states where republican governors have refused to expand medicare/medicaid.

Just in the last hour.

Gently cover one of their hands with one of yours and explain, in a soft paternal voice, that they’ve been duped.  Describe in as much detail as necessary, that if the republican party had a single policy or issue to run on that Benghazi wouldn’t occupy a single rung on the ladder of contemporary political discourse.  Do your best to illustrate how championing Benghazi merely reveals how they have not a single other thing with which to gin up the base.

The rest of us it see it for what it is.

Abject desperation.

Hillary will run.

Obamacare is working and therefore a complete bust.  They got nothing there.  Folks be getting happier.

It’s been litigated in the court of public opinion and before congress about ten goddamn times already and even prominent republicans like Buck McKeon, chairman of the armed services committee said,  “I think I’ve pretty well been satisfied that given where the troops were, how quickly the thing all happened and how quickly it dissipated, we probably couldn’t have done more than we did,”  And, “The Armed Services Committee has interviewed more than a dozen witnesses in the operational chain of command that night, yielding thousands of pages of transcripts, e-mails, and other documents. We have no evidence that Department of State officials delayed the decision to deploy what few resources DoD had available to respond.”

Members of the families have contacted Nancy Pelosi asking that it not be revisited again.  Republicans cut funding for embassy security despite democratic warnings that it would jeopardize diplomats and personnel.

And if you happen across Darrell Issa on the sidewalk or in front of a nice cafe, feel free to vomit down the back of his shirt.  Try to get some on his actual head.  He’s been doing it to you for years and here’s where I believe in an eye for an eye, vomit for vomit.

No republicans were harmed in the writing of this blog.  The author is a pacifist and has not struck another human being in anger or self defense for nearly three decades and does not advocate any such violence no matter how incredibly fucking stupid the antagonist may be.  The author is joking and engaging in fantasy and wishful thinking.  The author does strongly recommend the usage of arguments and common sense provided.  The author does endorse the vituperative action of hawking a loogie upon the conclusion of the confrontation to underscore disgust and disdain for the idiocy of the republican.

This shit is breathtakingly ridiculous.

The republican preoccupation is morbid and vulgar.

The author of this blog is far more fearful of huge grasshoppers than any spider.

Drinks for my friends.

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