Monday, April 29, 2019


Battered, beaten, and berated.

Relentless. Ubiquitous.

I pray for silence.


While his lips move, dare I fathom the orgasmic release which would surely be forthcoming as my fist burst forth, crushing his words.

Talk down to this, motherfucker!

Not one who has ever brought Oscar home has given a performance worthy of that which I now give – wrapped up in pretension, so much so that he thinks his words reach me in some way. That I aspire to his greatness.

Try not to puke.

I seek exit, but find none. None, that is, save the one about which Thoreau wrote. My prison is not external. The illusion does not bind. All-encompassing, impotent noise.

Incessant thunder, wind, and rain pummels. Yet that inside is untouched, protected from the elements as long as I choose.

I chose to build the wall long ago.


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Monday, December 10, 2007

More Questions and Answers

Describe some of the jobs you've had. Which did you enjoy the most? The least?

The first job I had, I was 19. I pumped gas at a full service station. In fact, that was the last place I saw Sandy, my first girlfriend. It really wasn't a bad first job. I got fired for not answering a question correctly that the district manager asked. I don't remember the specifics, but I flubbed it.

My favorite job was probably working construction. A temp job, and it only lasted from March through October or November, but it was fun. There's something cool about being handed a sledgehammer and told to knock down a wall. Or given a jackhammer, and bust up some pavement. I loved it.

I can't really say much about least favorite jobs. There were plenty of those, but if I hated them that bad, I usually didn't return after the first day, or sometimes even after lunch, if I made it that long. Most were warehouse jobs, where the environment was less than welcoming. One was a third shift job at a warehouse across from Nissan. The work was easy, but all the doors (about 200 of them) had to stay open all night. It was 8 degrees this night. Needless to say, I didn't return for a second.

Working at the BP, when it was still owned by Jim Emory was sometimes a fun job. At least I met a lot of cool, interesting people there, some of whom I still see today. I also met a lot of police officers there, and consider some friends to this day.

I consider my massage career a failure. I should have researched the field more before I decided to pursue it. I'm fairly certain I'd not have gone through with it.

What are your feelings on war, politics, religion?

Government is little more than those with the ability to inflict the most harm using that ability to keep masses docile. When one government possesses more harming ability than another, many times that government will insist the weaker bend to its will. If the weaker refuses, acts of war generally follow, which might include embargo, sanction, or an all-out invasion. The real reason for war is seldom made public, especially so for the aggressor.

Politics is truly the ultimate in hypocrisy. The implication is that the holders and/or candidates are the most suited for these positions, yet most are lawyers. Congress is made up entirely of millionaires. What do these people know about not being able to go to the doctor when you're sick? The most qualified candidates for public office are those who wouldn't dream of running. These are college professors, scientists, farmers, and counselors. Unfortunately, only those who are willing to shed the blood of others become elected officials. On a more local level, those with the prettiest, most colorful signs usually win.

On religion, I somewhat agree with Marx in that it can be an opium for the masses. Why worry about how bad things are right now, when the after-life will bring such perfect bliss? Yet Buddhists hand Hindus do not believe such. Ironically, not many wars have been fought in the name of Buddhism or Hinduism, as opposed to others, who seem to be in a state of perpetual war.

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Sunday, December 09, 2007

Yes, it's been a while since I've posted. A lot has happened since my last post.

For one, I bought a house in Smyrna. It's not a huge mansion, but it's comfy. And quiet. I can play my stereo as loud as I want, though I rarely do. I've never been a homeowner before. I like it.

For two, I've got a new girlfriend. I call her Julie, mostly because that's her name. At least I think we're still together. We're still learning about each other. We are very different. Sometimes it feels so easy, natural, and like I'd not rather be doing anything else. Others, it's a struggle I'm not sure I'm up for.

Julie's got a couple of poodles, named Dork and Boyfriend. Dork is Boyfriend's father. Of the two, Dork seems more drawn to me and I to him. Boyfriend is a mama's boy.

I can't believe I haven't posted since July. I swear I'll try to do better.

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Thursday, July 05, 2007

Love and Loss

It died last night. The strongest love I’ve felt in my life left this world slowly, painfully. A knife through the heart dealt the killing blow. Traversing air waves, this knife reached me via text message. Immeasurable is the pain I now feel.

Painful as this experience may be, however, I also feel extremely grateful. Grateful, because I honestly believe that few people ever experience a love as intense as that which I felt for you. The mere mention of your name gave me chills. The thought of seeing you excited me more than a child in a toy store. Touching you made me know that I never wanted to be touched by anyone else.

Thank you for the experience, and the chance to know love in a way I’ve never known it before. I’ll not forget you.

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Thursday, June 28, 2007

Dogs or Diamonds?

I heard an entertainer this year talking about the differences between men and women. This guy was obviously gay, and related more to women than men. I found many of his comparisons mildly entertaining, but he lost me when he said, “Man’s best friend is an animal who slobbers and licks its balls . . . A woman’s best friend is a diamond.”

Personally, I’d take one loyal companion over a fistful of expensive rocks any day. If anything, his statement is a put-down of women, insinuating they are fickle and materialistic. At least, if I were a woman, I’d be insulted.

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Friday, June 15, 2007

Why I'll Never Own Another Car

It’s not that I don’t like to drive; I do. Traffic doesn’t bother me too much either. Three bucks a gallon gets me to thinking, but the real reason is the ownership itself. You’re led to believe you own this 3,000 lbs mass of steel, rubber, and glass, but you can only keep it if you pay ongoing fees.

Last night brought an old, sick feeling back to the pit of my stomach. One I hadn’t felt in almost 2 years.

About a month ago, I bought a car, mostly as a way of seeing my girlfriend who lives in Ohio. I honestly hadn’t the time to get tags for it, what with working 6 days a week and preparing for a 3-week house-sitting gig. I’d planned to do it this week, except that I didn’t get a day off, so was planning to do it after house-sitting.

When I got home from work, however, a note hung from my door knob. It said my car would be towed because it didn’t have a tag. I was furious. I wanted to set fire to the liability in the parking lot. I never wanted to see it again. I called my girlfriend and told her to come get the piece of shit out of my face asap.

I’ve settled a little today. The car has tags, and I drove it to work. My rage now focuses on my apartment management, and I vow to leave there at my soonest opportunity. Since my lease is already up, I feel the Universe telling me it’s time to move. I’m looking for a place closer to work. I should be out by August.

Almost all stress in my adult life has been caused by cars (with the exception of the stressor with the French accent, but that’s another story). Maintenance, legal, or storage issues constantly popping up. It’s the perfect way for the government to keep tabs on you, while milking you out of more and more money you worked your ass off for, and already paid taxes on. Combine that with Big Oil, and you’ve got the ultimate milking machine.

Maybe I’m crazy, but driving a car doesn’t rank high on my list of priorities. I’ve got much better ways of spending my money. I’ve saved almost $5,000.00 in gas alone over the past year or so. If I were to spend that money on something, I’d much rather spend it on a hooker than give it to the government or BP. A $5,000.00 fucking from a hooker would feel much better.

I had almost forgotten what that feels like until last night. I’ll go on renting cars, but owning one is something I think I’ll never do again.

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Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Looney Tunes

While sitting at the BP traffic light yesterday morning, a guy yells out to me, "Hey, Looney Tunes!" Before he could mutter another syllable, I asserted, "You're throwing 3 bucks a gallon down your gas tank, and I'm looney tunes?" His little mind obviously couldn't grasp much beyond name-calling, and as he struggled for words, the light changed and I was on my way.

I honestly don't believe gas prices are too high. In fact, I still think they are incredibly low. On what do I base this? Everywhere I look, I see oversized trucks and SUV's. That tells me that, as a whole, our society doesn't really give a shit about 3 bucks a gallon. My guess is that it won't matter until the majority is faced with some tough decisions. Decisions like, "Am I going to put gas in the car this month or pay my electric bill?" Most of us haven't felt this kind of bite and, until we do, I say gas prices aren't high enough.

How high is too high? We've got a way to go. I'd say about 10 to 20 bucks a gallon might get some of the sleepers to at least take some notice. You say 10 or 20 bucks will never happen? Three or four years ago we would have said the same about three bucks. It's gonna happen.

But then, what do I know? I'm Looney Tunes.

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