Plagerism?

I just don't feel like writing at the moment. So, I've taken a story from someone else's blog - I have no idea who, find it if you're so interested.

Anyway, Once Upon A Time...

Tonight at work something sorta strange happened. Some woman I don't know walks in and looks at me and starts to cry. This doesn't normally happen so I didn't know what to do. I ask her if I can help her and she tries to talk but she starts really sobbing so she whispers "Can I tell you something" and I say ok. She says, I agreed to give some guy a ride home and now he won't get out of my car, why she pulled over and told me this is beyond me. So I brought her aside and asked her to tell me what is going on, just to make it seem like I cared. She said that she used to know him and that he was drunk in church today and he asked if she would give him a ride somewhere and now he refuses to get out of the car. She said that she had done everything she could think of to get him out of the car but he still refused.

So I said...Look bitch this is your problem so it's time that you leave me alone. Not really but that's what I was thinking. I told her that maybe she should call the police and they would get him out of the car. She thought about it and finally decided to call the police. They show up and try to get the guy out of the car and he puts up a struggle with them. OK...dude is drunk, in a car, wrestling with the cops...for what? I don't know. So they get him out and put him in the back of the patrol car and take him away. I don't know if they arrested him or took him home but the woman is pissed that they took him away and she's all crying and stuff. She turns to me and says...It was your idea to call the cops. WHAT! You stupid bitch, you come into my work crying and asking for help and now your pissed at me. She leaves, I flip her off behind her back and that's it. The End.

Don't step on your friends' eye!

I've been drinkin', and when Uma Thurman snatched out Darryl Hanna's I, it made me weep, just a little.

I'd just like to say, to all you folks out there, that it's just plain abuse to snatch someone's eye out and then squish your toes about in the vitreol.

Yeah, drinking makes my paragraphs short, and my sentenses run-on like a ninth grader with no self-respect and a bad case of lust for the teacher even though she may be 150 punds overweight. It's a sad fact that there are kids out there (girls and boys both) masturbating with their mind's eye on obesity.

Then they wake up, punch up channel 259 and get a dose of normality that breeds deep shame. And I mean DEEP shame. I could go into a discussion here concerning the dichotomic relationship between normalcy and reality- I could rant aobut how sincere the love-sneeze can be. But I won't. I thought about telling you that I had to vomit, but it would have been a lie; and lying is about all i can think about now.

I heard a thud - car door? Assassin? Kid kicking the wall? What the FUCK? I am in some inebriated limbo, and I'm typing all these synaptic stutter just to heare the keys click. Sleep is evasive, and there are footsteps in my head that want desperately to get out and kick the shit out of this ridiculous world- but, no hope of that...

Blog - who reads this? i'm a lonely man with no friends I can touch, agreeably domesticated and wondering why I chose this fate. My children sleep as I doubt, they will never read this, and I'm proud to know it. If they did read, they would never understand how happiness can survive in such a maelstrom of fervent tension. They don't have to, now, hopefull never. I gave up "easy", I gave up smokin' dope by the ice machine because I wanted to prove to myself, because I wanted them never to have to prove, that love concquers all but the government, which has no place there.

When you cannot bite your nails because you fear it will break your teeth, come to me. I will laugh at you with joy because we are one. when the bottle of LiveWire Mountain Due is your heroin, and marijuana is the "Third Star To The Right, and STRAIGHT On 'Til Morning", enter my dreams and bring your rolling machine, because fingers are numb here- all fingers have callouses and the guitars need new strings.

If I edit this I will die- if you believe there is a God, go read someone else's blog, because there coding to be done, and we'll all be NULLPROGRAM if we interrupt the song of the code.

Please, for blog's sake, turn up the passion and find that goddamned cat before she gives birth all over the clean towels that I cannot possibly put away until I'm sober.

Jesus told them how to fuck

A friend sent me the link to Sex In Christ So, I went there, thinking that Jesus may have had something to say about sex, I mean, it is pretty important to most of us. so, I read and read and read. Tending to be a free-thinker, I started freely thinking, and it drove me to write the following.

Wow, you've invented a very uptight, mysogynistic God. You want your women to share a man, swallow, open up any and all orifices, and not be turned on by the same thing that is turning on the man - I'm a man and I find your entire line of self-serving, male-dominant logic just plain sick. You (and, apparently your god) make women out to be subservient objects with wet willing holes that should do anything the man "leads" them to do, as long as some twisted interpretation of a piece of who-knows-how-many-times-translated poetry fits the situation.

Next thing you'll be saying is that women are evil because they have orgasms - I've actually heard commentary on the epistles of St. Paul that "prove" this. May you learn to have some mercy on your own souls. Ooooo, I just want to stomp around and SWEAR!

If you can find women stupid enough to submit to your heinous acts of inhumanity, well I guess they deserve what they get.

Someday, a few of them will figure out what's going on and you'd better look out - men are brutal, but women are cruel, and "hell hath no fury like that of a woman scorned."
-Shakespeare

Better than life insurance

I keep getting e-mails about how badly I need and how cheaply I can get life insurance.

These people are so arrogant and greedy, they'd fuck chickens in public while singing librettos (badly), call it romantic nature theatre, and expect to be well-paid- in advance.

The e-mails assume that I KNOW that I NEED life insurance - as in "Duh, it's mortality, stupid!" The insurance industry (and the re-insurance industry) have come to the conclusion that they are a UTILITY, an institution, and are NOT to be ignored. In the mind of the insurance companies it simply comes down to which company gets the premiums, like it's necessary.

Who's life am I insuring, anyway? Mine? I'm GOING TO DIE! Everybody knows that, best of all me.

So, why should I give my money to someone who will then give my children more money if I die sooner than expected? (Only under certain conditions, other restrictions may apply.)

I know - I'm insuring the lives of the people who work for the insurance industry! What a bunch of fucked up money grubbing losers! Jesus - the smart way is to manage your own life insurance. Here's a good plan:

1. Put all your change in coffee cans. When you get around to it, take the cans to the bank and put them into an account. (Make sure to use a bank that has a coin sorter / counter - do yourself a favor.) When you get enough money in the account, invest half in short-term, half in long-term bonds. Just keep that change collected, and those coffee cans rolling. I'm the only one in my house who drinks coffee, and I use a 2 lb. can every two weeks or so - I have way more coffee cans than I have change and small bills to fill them.

OR - give the money to a good friend who is good at gambling, but isn't one of those freakazoid spinheads that always end up drunk and broke at the casino free food table. A good poker player is always a good bet - and I mean a GOOD poker player. Watch Rounders if you need a clue.

2. Take care of your LIFE, not just your body / mind / whatever- but take care of your life force.

3. Teach your children to be non-dependent. Make sure they know you and they are mortal, and not to expect too much from dead people. The living must carry on. The only thing dead people are good for is sainthood- or vilification, whatever.

4. Ignore this pseudo-authority trip that these giant conglomerates are pushing on the American Sheeple - live your life, die your death - just as you cannot petition God to do your will, you cannot insure stability against mortality- certainly not through the likes of the corpse-rats better known as insurance salespersons.

loops

When I was a kid TV came in via a loop antenna or rabbit ears, whatever. I watched a lot of it, no matter where it came from.

From the time I was six or seven I would have these nightmares where I was driving a car, and the road would go straight up, or sideways, or straight down- I could feel myself balanced with finger and toenails clawing against a folcrum of gravity, leanin on it like a jumper pressed against the sill of a 37th story window ledge. I would wake up sweating, wondering what the fuck was going on - where these crazy dreams were coming from.

The culprit: Speed Racer. The cartoons haunted me, anything you watch long enough gets in, way down where the karma gets stored in soul-tight barrels waiting for the day to come when the barrels burst and the shit hits the fan.

I don't watch TV now - I have DVD, etc., but the cable has not been plugged in snce the fall of 2001, or should I say the Fall of 2001- I was so disgusted by 9/11 I gave up TV until such time as I change my mind.

I'm not a social butterfly, by any means, but it gets downright awkward when people start talking about this-or-that TV show and I just look / feel blank. I get My kids go to their friends' houses, watch TV, come home, want to tell me about it- it's just not interesting anymore - and I feel good about that.

Cats, screens, that awful smell, and murder by proxy

My children are crying, I'm trying not to, all the while attempting to solve what seems to be an unsolvable riddle.

How do I keep a cat, whom I love, who arbitrarily rips the fucking screens out of the windows to get out or in? She's a good cat, she goes outside to do her business- and she, before we put in the summer screens and opened up the windows, would be very polite about asking for what she wanted. Now, she just mauls them and damn the torpedoes.

I have been very firm with her, wrapping her head in mangled screen and growling - "No, Dharma, bad choice." She looks pissed off, a little scared, but more defiant than anything.

I've told my kids that Animal Control is next.

Another day

There's nothing like the same day over and over; the weather, the conversations, the problems. I have lost a friend today, yesterday, last week, I have no idea when...

Anyway, change and sameness are sort of blurry - I can't tell the difference between them for the time being, and I'm just tired of thinking about it.

I have nothing to write, I'm not blocked, just empty.

Footsteps

George's glasses mystiriously snapped in half this morning. George, Andrew and I walked 2 miles to the eye center to drop them off for a $25 solder job - they were closed due to a staff meeting. It's about 105 out there today. Nice walk, though. George and Andrew went with me so we talked about thoughts, manifesting reality, and fake wrestling scenarios.

So, we walked to K-mart, bought some 3-in-1 oil and a couple of sports needles. Then we walked to the grocery store, got stuff for dinner and lunches this week, and some wine coolers, and (finally) took a cab home.

So, I'm soothing my feet, listening to Beck, and waiting for the kids' mom to show up for her visitation.

It's hard to begin

So I have a blog...