Saturday, October 16, 2010

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Thursday, November 6, 2008

Piss drunk on wine and kolonipin

Ohh the buzz is in its late the full effect should have me tucked away in a comfortable slumber yet my senses and desire to write and create have taken over.   I know to go to sleep would only erase these thoughts going through my mind in hopes that my night of comfortable slumber would  only mimic a actual coma.  To sleep  is to turn off and give up on the pain of the day  a pain that should be shared its the pain that we truly live for with out it true happiness would not be possible or at least we wouldn't be able to actually gauge it.  My glass slowly empties and my eyes get heavy I enjoy this feeling because I know with it comes sleep with out thought and without dreams.  Without those two sleep is actually really enjoyable like being tucked away in a cloud of nirvana.  I hear nothing I think nothing I shut my eyes to complete darkness.  I have always enjoyed the night the later the better as long as your eyes close before the sun comes up again you are safe.  Vampire like the days are to hectic to many people trying to do to many things its quiet now and my ears can rest.  Think about it think about just how much shit other people pump into your head each and every day gotta do this or that or some fucker that you will never see again boasting of his super life.  Who fucking cares.  God damn these people you stand in line to get a sandwich and some asshole wants to talk to you like your his long lost friend or about the weather or gas or what other lame fucking shit I don't give 3 fucks about.  I usually don't even acknowledge these people or  say something to fuck them up.  Because I cannot stand stupid meaningless shit.  Mindless chit chat.  Like buying beer for instance I will get a 6 pack of red hook ipa's because the alcohol content is higher and some hillbilly fuck will be standing behind me with a 30 pack of busch light and start talking hey those beers any good
never had em before.  My response look your buying 30  fucking beers to go home unwind and fuck your toothless nascar wife while watching Monday night football.  I'm buying 6 beers and I will probably be fucked up enough to fuck my neighbors dog.  So you tell me how good they are.  So many people so many assholes.  I guess the accounting department in heaven and hell are  just as fucked up as the accounting department for our government.  Fucking assholes all of em.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

How fucking rad is change

Day number one and it already sucks.  Circle Jerks wrote a song called "Wild in the Streets" well shit is certainly wild in the street.  I went out for a bit today and it seems like we now have 2 black history months now.  One for Mr. Kings dream and now looks like one for the dream coming true.  But lets be honest there is no such thing as a black mans platinum card for fuck sakes we had a fucking retard in charge of this country for 8 years.  So we could have put a goat in his place and something better would have to happen.  I hope this shit all works  out but I see a lot of tension building on both sides.  There are no freebies no fucking hook ups. I'm glad the retard is gone as much as the next guy.  But if your running around thinking that now is the time to get your just reward your just as fucked as the retard.  They say change can be a good thing but the only change I see so far is the change of the color of a mans skin.  Now if we are so small minded to consider that a big change we are actually a very fucked up society and our problems are a lot deeper than who we choose to run this country.  Hopefully the correct  choice was made but only time will tell.  The true test is how the average idiot reacts.  So what do  you say "Wild in the Streets"  or lets change this fucking mess.  Just act civilized and get treated as such.  As a white guy with 40 years of white presidents there was defiantly no golden brick road.  Just a heads up.  I mean its the year 2008 lets face it a real fucking change would have been a gay black transsexual with a bi sexual Latino female swinger as a running mate.   Now that's fucking change.  Its fucking baby steps just like farting in a crowded room cause you know anyone is to blame.  Party is over now lets put that fucker to work.

Jizz Mopper

Johnny was a jizz mopper 
age of eighteen
did a good fucking job
kept the booth real clean
never left a napkin 
or load on the floor
even wiped the handle
on the damn door
johnny was a jizz mopper
pushing his mop all over town
swabbing up the goo that you left around
never seen his eyes he's always looking down
always came to work 
drunk all the time 
had all the keys 
never waited in line
got to know the girls
even dated a few
some even through 
poor johnny a screw

then one day johnny
got into drugs
his whole fucking life
slid down in the crud
never mopped the floor 
or shut a fucking door
then one day 
he passed out inside
slid down on  the floor 
wished he had died

johnny was a jizz mopper 
pushing his mop all over town
swabbing up the goo that you left around
no one really noticed when he was down

tried to get to his
feet again but
16 sailors made 
johnny their friend
never had a chance 
never had a clue 
16 sailors covered 
johnny with all 
of their goo
 

just another fucked up song about a really fucked up job that someone out there is doing.  Enjoy your jack booth but respect the jizz mopper probably a job you will never see on dirty jobs but fuck could you think of a dirtier one.

Friday, October 31, 2008

The Zen of digging a hole

Ever grab a shovel and just start digging most people don't because they say its to hard or their soft little hands blister way to soon.   Thats the goal pussy push yourself past the point of pain past the point of thought to the point where you just become machine.  Dig a hole and dig it deep and big this is no two or three day project. Stay out there a good 8 to 10 hours shovel in hand digging how long till you break how long till you quit how long till you just go why in the fuck am I doing this shit. First thing to go is your hands they will blister then pop and it hurts like a mother fucker, next go your arms they turn to jello barely able to lift the dirt from the hole, then your back from throwing the dirt out of  the hole and twisting, then your legs from pushing the shovel in deeper and your mind is fucking with you this whole time telling you to quit like a whining little baby inside of you thinking about other shit and how much this sucks and shit that you would rather be doing.  Now get past all this pussified bullshit running through your body and mind and none of it fucking matters next thing you know your hands are bleeding your head is blank you cant feel shit from your neck down and your just digging like the shovel was always part of you.  No real point to this I just hate whinny pussies that can't to anything for themselves. fuck you very much and enjoy zen

The Ashes of Laughter

There were good times and I remember the laughter just like it was yesterday.  But as soon as it left my mouth it turned to ashes and fell to the ground like the  first  light snow of winter another grand time has come and past falling dead as it escaped from with in.  As I watch the ash of laughter slowly descend to the ground that my tired feet are standing I realize I am standing in and adding to an already thick dense sludgy layer of filth of good times that have past.  I watch as people trudge through it on their normal routines and even allowing their children to play in it while they sip peppermint mocha's.  To say the word happy I would have to know the condition was it real, stoned, drunk or high laughing while waiting for the truth to set in or the come down or hang over to kick in.  Fun's over now what stuck back into the mundane clutches of societies ruling paw.  It sure feels good to get away with something oh that enjoyable rush.  Lets take away life's safety net and make it exciting.  I cant seem to hold a smile for more than a couple seconds.  The laughter that I do keep inside at  least what is left never really sure why I always keep a little for myself.  I don't know why its almost like a gift that is to valuable to just hand out to a stranger its the little things like this the little things I keep that secure that little bit of happiness that I keep inside.  You took most of it fuckers  but the real shit will never be yours.

Dont ask me questions

Don't ask me questions for all I have for your are lies.
Don't tell me do to anything cause it wont get done.
Don't ask me to go anywhere I have probably been before.
I hear the shit that falls from your mouth only for a little bit.
Then just the thought of standing there makes me sick.
Don't  make me promises that you can't  keep.
Don't tell me things will get better when you don't even know me.
Maybe I like them just the way they are.
Maybe my happiness is this creative pain that I create for myself.
A life where nothing means something and  something means nothing.
Pain and anger are motivation when placed within the correct harness.
So ask your questions and enjoy my lies.
At least its worth a giggle for me on your account.