Circle of Trust and the Rape of Nanjing

I guess I better get my ass in gear and start getting my shit ready for winter. Cover up my air conditioner and get all my storm windows closed. Then I should wash all my blankets and shit plus all my winter jackets. Change the oil in the car and buy a cover for the truck even though it’s under an awning. Ooh, maybe I’ll buy some new boots whilst I’m at it. I pulled out my big mack daddy robe last week but I think I need to find another one, maybe with a hood. And I guess I should go ahead and close off the two rooms I never use, cause it’ll keep the gas bill down which is supposed to be a muthafucker this winter. Now if I can just keep the ice storms to a minimum I should be as snug as tits in a fuzzy bra. After all that shit gets done it’ll be a waiting game to see when I turn the heat on. I always try to wait till my birthday in December before I turn it on but last year Cassie was living with me and I wasn’t going to put her thru all that. But this year it’s just me and my lonesome so I’ll see how long I can last. I actually slept last night, like a dead man I did. I stopped by the Hurricane before I went home to have a few and sitting at the bar was Brock, Lumpy and Chris; collectively know as Circle of Trust, the newest band to grace the Kansas City scene. They’re playin at the Hurricane next week and I plan to keep a late night just to hear em. And I really wanted to scan it, cause these muthafucker’s have gots to have the rudest band poster anyone’s ever seen. The boy’s are all about shock value and they went and scanned some photos from a website and book called the Rape of Nanjing. On December 13, 1937, Imperial Japan invaded the Chinese city of Nanjing, which was then the capital of Imperialist China. Over the next six-week period Japan committed what came to be know as the Nanjing Massacre, or the rape of Nanjing. During this six-week period over 300.000 Chinese were killed and over 20.000 women were raped. And if I remember right, to this day the Japanese government still refuses to acknowledge the incident. Just a little history to go with the band poster, Lumpy actually was impressed that when he showed me the poster I recognized the pictures right off the bat, which ain’t so unusual me being kind’a of a freak on shit like that. It ain’t what everybody knows that interests me, it’s the shit that tries to stay hidden that interests me. Did that make sense? It made sense to me.

Dammit I'm tired, leave me be!

Goddammit I’m sucking hind tit today! Last night I went to bed early cause I was tired as a muthafucker and as I lay there shit kept getting brighter instead of darker, well hello fuckin insomnia. I was awake all fuckin nightlong. I really wanted to exercise my options and call it in today, but with muthafucker’s in Maryland and all the shit that comes with government year’s end, I had to be at work. So here the fuck I am. I got a call yesterday from a very old and dear friend whose been living in Florida. Linda’s just a couple of years older then I am and we’ve been knowing each other for some years now. I’ve been her friend thru three or four husbands and all that kind of shit. Well the short story is that she’s moving back to town and once she gets here one of her personal missions is to set my ass stright. Cause as she puts it I’ve been running with all the wrong women and she’s gonna put an end to all that. Plus she has a real personal problem with the fact that I hang out with women much younger then myself. I think I’m gonna have to sit her ass down when she gets here and tell her what’s what. Cause the last time I checked she wasn’t coming off any of that ass, if you get my drift. You’d think she’d be rooting for me to get the hookup, but noooooo, this is another women who took great glee with the cockblockin but wouldn’t pay to play. So when she gets here we’re gonna have a formal sit-down and discuss some shit. Have I said how tired I am?

its harder then it looks

I'm having to redo all my old posts from the S2R site, it's seems that this morning after i added another fifty or so everything started getting all corrupted and shit. plus I figured I needed to put everything in proper order. so if shit works like I plan, after it's all done the posts shold be displayed starting with the oldest and ending with the newest. and I'l like to make an addition to the post about Thursday and Friday. (11) As my bus pulls up after work on Friday I stand up from sitting on the bus stop bench, shen i get this horrible stabbing pain on the inside of my right upper leg. It hurt so fuckin bad that I almost pulled my pants down whilst sitting on the sidewalk. The best i can figure is that I must'a sat my big ass down on a bee or wasp and shen I went to get up the little muthafucker stung the fuck out'a me.

the monkey finger is back

Here’s my fucking Thursday and other shit up to date. My mother was coming back in to town Wednesday and it was my duty to pick her up at the airport around eight o’clock. So after I got off work I figure I’d hang at the Hurricane and chat up Mito until it was time to go to the airport. But here come the fuckin monkey finger into play, (1) my sister called and told me that our mother was stuck in Detroit due to bad weather. So being the fine upstanding son that I am, I started tracking the flight. After it was all said and done he plane wouldn’t get in town until almost ten PM our time. So after a while I break off from Mito and get my ass up to the airport. I get up there and park curbside and run in to check her flight, but as soon as I walk in I see people deplaning and shit. And sure enough there’s my mother gladder then a muthafucker to be home after sitting in Detroit for a couple of hours. She goes to grab her bag and I go to get the car. (1.5) As I walk to my car there’s a cop standing in front of it doing the ticket thing. I sigh and ask the cop how much is the ticket, cause I know I fucked up by leaving my car curbside. He must’a been in a real fuckin good mood cause he looked me over and told me to get my fuckin vehicle off his curb and he’d forget the ticket. I thanked him and went and grabbed up my mother and took her tired ass home. So by the time I got home it was almost midnight and all I wanted to do was get home, get a bite to eat and go to bed. (2) I get home and walk in and all my lights are out, I fuckin spaced off my power bill. Goddammit! But what to do. I stripped off the clothes and felt my way to my bedroom where the first thing I noticed was that my alarm clock was shining the time. What the fuck? Apparently my bedroom was on a different circuit from the rest of the apartment? Which thrilled me to no end cause I was stressing about how I was gonna sleep, since I’ve been using this thing called a C-Pap to sleep with for the last ten years or so. Years ago I took a sleep study test and found out that because I snored so badly I unconsciously woke up over two hundred times a night. But after being introduced to a small machine called a C-Pap which simply forces air into my throat which keeps this skin flap which makes people snore against the back of my throat, thus keeps me from snoring, thus I only wake up maybe twenty five times a night. So thus I sleep deeper, healthier, and all that, follow? For lack of a better term call it forced air breathing, feel free to ask you burnt out Uncle Pete who flew missions in Vietnam or the Gulf war about that shit. never the less, it’s the only way I can get a good night’s sleep after using one for so many years. Plus its muthafuckin relaxing to boot. Only downside is that if and when I get the long stroke and happen to have an overnight guest, seeing me with that thing on freaks em out if I don’t explain it to em. But they sure enjoy the peace and quiet. So I wake up and shower in the dark and head to work. And then my day really got bad. (3) I call the electric company and they tell me that yeah, they turned me off, yeah, it’s gonna cost me a couple of bills to get my shit turned back on. But what to do, I pay. I get that done and (4) my boss walks in and tells me that the chick that runs the mailroom called in sick and can I cover for her. I look up and say of course she did, that’s the way my fucking day is going. (5) A couple of hours later he asks me if I wouldn’t mind dealing with this contractor who was coming up to look at some work we needed done on our floor, of course I said, lets pile it on top of every fuckin thing else I’m doing. (6) At the same time the building’s dock called me to say that there was a shitload of bigassed boxes sitting on the dock with my name on em. Of course there is I said, what other day would shit like this show up? Ended up being fifteen boxes of fuckin file cabinets. (7) I get a call from the folks doing the disaster in Maryland; they needed equipment shipped overnight to em. Of course you do, my muthafuckin day wouldn’t be complete without you’re asses callin. (8) I got the contractor in tow, file cabinets sitting on the dock, equipment needed to be gathered up for Maryland, plus all my regular shit waiting to get done when who comes running up but the regional director’s secretary. There’s an emergency phone call for the regional FEMA EEO counselor, which happens to be me. I ask her to transfer it to my desk and I’ll call the muthafucker back as soon as I fuckin break loose. By this time I’m reading an e-mail from Michelle asking how’s my day going and is it getting any better. I inform her that it just ramped the fuck up and I call the cat that’s having the EEO issue. Fuck, where was I? Oh yeah, (9) this cat is a small business owner living out of state and he wants to bring a civil suit against the fuckin city he lives in, and he swears that it’s a FEMA matter. As I’m hearing this and taking notes I’m lookin out my window which is on the ninth floor wondering how much would it take to break this muthafucker and step out of it. And to make a long story short I get home and my power’s on and I fall to sleep around seven. Today was busy but nothing out of the ordinary, I end up as usual at the Hurricane and after a few drinks here I am at home. (10) But as I’m preparing dinner I somehow ram a cutting knife into my hand, so as I type this there’s a bunch of gauze on my fuckin hand and blood all over my kitchen and bathroom, plus on my phone cause I had to call Mito and tell her that it wasn’t over yet.

You can call me Johnson, you can call me Johnston, you can call me Ray Jay

You muthafucker’s remind me on Friday to tell your asses how fucked up my Thursday was. I damn near was ready to walk out my ninth floor window. But that’ll be some shit for Friday. As I post all the old shit that used to be on the Season to Risk website, and reading and makin small corrections and shit. I can’t help but think how fucked up my head works sometime. Its like from one post to the next it’s almost like I’m switching personality’s and shit. I read some of my old posts and can’t help but think what kind’a fucked up place was my head in to make me say some of the shit I said? It reminds me of something Cassie told me one day. She said that when I write I take on a different persona. I’m cool with that, but multiples? But oh well, fuck it.

Am I hot or not?

It’s become apparent that I’m a muthafucker that knows how to complement a woman. My pal Michelle was sort’a fretting over her looks the other day, “I hate my hair, and does this lipstick make me look fat? Do these shoes make me look fat? My tit is sagging. OH-MY-GOD!!!!!! IS THAT MY ASS”? I think you get my drift, so after tellin her that she looked hot; I decided to prove to her how hot she was. I pulled a picture of her off my hard drive and submitted it to the “Am I hot or not” website. And at the same time I put their graph on the front of my page so that we could track her progress. Off the bat she was pullin ninety five percent hotter then all the other chicks on the site. And after only a few days she had accumulated over fifteen hundred votes. And when I took it down today she was hitting ninety six percent. So I think I can say that I proved my point. I just hope that I can deal with the aftermath. You know, swelled head and all, her’s, not mine.

Goddamn, talk about being a cut above the rest

A student cut off his own penis and his tongue after drinking an infusion of the latest drugs craze to sweep Germany. The 18-year-old, only named as Andreas W, from Halle in Germany drank a tea made with the hallucinogenic angels' trumpet plants. His mother said: "Andreas was behaving normally the whole day until he left the house and disappeared into the garden for a couple of minutes." When he returned to the house he was wearing a towel wrapped around him and was bleeding heavily from his mouth and between his legs. The emergency doctor who arrived a few minutes later said the student had cut off his penis and his tongue with garden shears and it was impossible to reattach the organs. Dr Andreas Marneros, from the local psychiatric hospital the student was admitted to, said: "Andreas will have to receive psychological help for years. Tea from Angels' Trumpets is extremely dangerous as the drug cannot be dosed."
Angels' Trumpets, known for their fragrant and trumpet shaped flowers, have increasingly become popular as an alternative drug in Germany.

Death gives baby advice?

This is for the house hunting stepdad and dear Cassie, and my ole gal pal Christa. Both who are expecting new additions to their respective family's. I posted this some years ago.

BABY ADVICE
This past Sunday I went to a baby shower. One of the cooler things I saw
there was a book of advice for the newborn from the attendees. Hell, I took
to this book like a bum to bacon. Give advice to a baby? I was all over it.
* Wash it before you use it.
* If it's free, something must be wrong with it.
* If you can talk your way into it without paying for it, then do it.
* If it's called a cat or kitty please don't fuck with its tail.
* When your uncle tells you to call your mama a Ho. You better think
it over. Your uncle can go home, your young stupid ass is already there.
* Don't be pullin nobodies finger.
* Just because it smells funny, don't make it bad for you.
* Everything you see don't belong in your fuckin mouth.
* Don't be tryin to shove shit in your ass. That's not what the hole's for.
* Wait till you're older before you experiment.
* Being gay is ok; just don't tell burnt out Uncle Pete who lost both
his feet in the last war. (Whatever war that may be.) Oh, and don’t ever let Uncle Pete hear you bitchin about walkin to school. You’ll never hear the end of that one.
* Don't be tryin to hump family members. Just because the dog does don’t make it right. The same goes for trying to lick your own balls.
* The same goes for the dog.
* Don't be a dumbass.
* Learn to read.
* If it says hot, looks hot, smells hot. Then dumbass, it's more then
likely hot.
* When in doubt, what would Shaft and John Wayne do?
* Your mother and father will love your stinkin ass no matter how fucked up you get.
Peace

new stuff

I’m putting up a link to all my old posts from when I was on The Season To risk website. I’ve been kickin the idea around and figured the only way to do it was to start another blogsite and link to it. And after reading some of Stevie’s comments, I figured it might be something to do. They start in 2000 and some are me at my rawest. The last time I checked there were almost 300 posts. So for those of you that are suckers for punishment, there you go. Enjoy!

I can't even begin to think of a title for this.

Scientists have discovered fossils of the world's oldest genitals -- belonging to 400 million-year-old insects -- in ancient rocks in Scotland”. "The discovery of the world's oldest genitals proves that little has changed over the last 400 million years”.
Ok, this is killin me here, what kind of freak giant muthafuckin bug do you have to be that your ass leaves a dick-print in stone? And more important? What kind of muthafucker finds this shit and goes, “hey guys, look here. When you hold this fossilized piece of quartz up to the light like this, it looks like the fuckin bug has a cock doesn’t it”? “Jesus Ralph, my kids cock ain’t that fuckin big! Hey Sue, come over her and take a look? Didn’t you fuck this guy back in collage”?
Yeah, when it comes time to speak up in class and tell what your parents do to support your stupid ass, little Timmy must be so fuckin proud.
“What! Speak up Timmy, the class can’t hear you”. “My, my, my daddies an arachnid-cockologist, he studies the cocks of certain insects”.

I feel good today??

I must be dying; yeah that’s it, the calm before the storm. I woke up this morning chipper then a muthafucker stright up five o’clock. I hit the john and took a wee and as I walked out I stopped dead in my tracks thinking, “what feels so out of place”? I went and laid back down a started doing a head to toe body check. Normally I do that anyway just out’a force of habit. So I got the toes to wiggling then checked the legs, knees, then worked my way up from there. “Huh, ain’t this a bitch”? For the first time in months my body was completely pain free. Oh, this couldn’t be good; I started to panic cause I was trying to remember any accounts of anyone feeling super-good before they keeled over. But then I realized if they keeled over dead how could they tell anyone how they fuckin felt? But after thinking it over I figured what the hell, rubbed one off, showered and headed to work. My body’s a piece of fuckin work, after years of bouncing in bars, getting shot and stabbed at, not counting all the bad cuts and bruises, falling down stairs and shit. Dealing with the stress of working for the Man, and on top of that, two heart attacks. It sometimes don’t wanna work right or do what I tell it to do. I try to do the right thing as often as I can, but fuck, sometimes a muthafucker just gots to grab the bull by the horns. I make an honest attempt to do everything my cocksuckin doctor tells me. I’ve tried to quit smoking. Hell, I even stopped for almost two years and shit, but then shit happened and I found myself lighting back up. I worked out for a while, but that stopped being fun. “Mr. Beck, I thought I told you only twenty minutes on the cardio rack, why are you doing more”? “Because it felt good you fat nauseous bitch”! Then the cocksuckin doctor tells me that I should avoid overdoing the workout. When I asked why, all I got was that stupid look Doctor’s give you when they’re done talkin to you. So fuck it, I do what I can when I can. It’s just now over the past few year’s whenever I wake up I lay there after doing the body check and say. “thanks pal, I won’t try to fuck this one up”.

Mr. Sandman ate my balls

This weekend wasn’t too bad, Friday I got the trailer’s of FEMA equipment out to Maryland. So hopefully they arrived on Saturday like I planned. I ended up working later then I normally do and missed my regular buses, but I found a late one and made it to the Hurricane in time for happy hour. The happy hour band the “Shanks” had talked one of the local rock stations into doing a live remote from the bar so all the radio people were there along with a full blown stock car advertising race track rides. And can I say to all the “radio people” out there? Unless your ass is a “radio personality” or the “DJ”, nobody really give a rats fuck about you, and all this strutting around and shit does nothing but make you look like an asshole. But anyway I got there in time to see the driver move the racecar from the trailer to the sidewalk. He had to do a U-turn in the middle of Broadway to get it set up right and there was a bunch of us standing on the sidewalk waiting to see if he was gonna pussie his way thru it or be a man. But as soon as traffic cleared he stuck his dick into it and lit the tires up something proper and pulled a smoking U-turn. The damn thing ran like a raped assed monkey and it was pretty cool, you know it’s like why drive a car like that if you can’t make a little noise and upset the neighbors every now and then. Saturday I really had nothing in mind but trying to sleep late but all the women in my life had other plans. First my sister called and woke me up, she wanted her drill set back cause she was doing shit around the house. Got done with her and had just drifted off back when the phone rang again. It was my mother callin from Maryland to tell me that because of all the power outages everyone in town was hitting all the open restaurants for breakfast. “Is that why you called me”? “Yeah, and to tell you to wake up. Bye, I love you”. And as soon as I laid my head back down the fuckin phone rang again, this time it was Michelle telling me to get my ass out of bed. After that I fuckin gave up and rolled out and moved to the couch. And aren’t these always the same people that always telling me that I need more sleep?

this could be your mother

Where have all the good time girls gone?

fuckin freak!

Today was another stressful day working for the Man. Like I said before we’re sending everyone out to the east coast to deal with the hurricane cause it looks like it’s gonna fuck some shit up. Plus this is FEMA’s first really big disaster since we became the Department of Homeland Security, and the Man’s watching us to make sure shit gets done right. And we got people spread all over the fuckin map and supporting these muthafucker’s long distance is a bitch. Plus my aged mother decided that since today was her sixty seventh birthday she wanted to fly to Maryland and hang out with my brother. So as a result of all this I left work wound up tighter then a ho in the middle of downtown during a plumber’s convention. I end up at the Hurricane cause I figured hanging with Mito would ease me out. But of course Murphy decided to stick his foot in the middle of things and narc me out. Cause when I walked in there sat Mito and Sonya along with some freak sitting at the bar. I grabbed a piece of the couch whilst Mito brought me a cup of coffee and sure as shit the freak grabbed his beer and headed my way.
Freak; “hi, can I sit next to you”?
Me; no.
Freak; I’m clairvoyant and I can feel your pain, can I sit next to you and ask you three questions?”
Me; no.
Freak; “do you believe in God”?
Me; “not today”.
Freak; “do you believe in Christ”?
Me; “not today”.
Freak; “where are you right now”?
Me; “in a very dark place”.
Me; “please leave now”.
Me; “no really, please leave now:.
Freak; “God sent me to you cause he feels your pain, I’m your angel, do you believe in angels”?
Me; “not today”.
Freak; “you need to learn how to release your pain and let go of the day”.
You know all I wanted to do was drink my coffee and chill out and not talk to anybody, maybe look at Mito’s rack and be an empty vessel. But the Freak wouldn’t let it alone. So I looked over at Chad who was sitting on the end of the couch and asked him to go downstairs and let the owner know that I was about to get stupid and kick this insane muthafucker out of the bar. But Mito instead called Westport security and they dropped in and took the fey cocksucker outside and asked him to leave the area. Bless her heart, cause me being so stressed as I was I was afraid my temper would over rule my common sense and then where would I be? And of course five fuckin minutes after he left Mattie the world’s most pissed off white man walked in. Think of the Johnny Cash lyric, “I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die”, and that’s our boy Mattie. There’s a handful of men and women I know that if they thought it’d make me happy, they’d off a muthafucker for me. Well Mattie’s one of em, he’s not big, not especially a threating cat, but he’s one of those guy’s that has a 24/7 headache, and the only thing that makes the pain go away is violence. I understand Mattie and dig his vibe cause I fully understand it. Fuck a freak.

sometimes we get the coolest e-mails at work

This morning we got an all hands e-mail from our director informing us that a B-2 Stealth bomber would be doing a fly-by over downtown Kansas City at noon. So just before noon I went outside to take a look, and sure enough as my watch hit twelve o’clock it appeared in the sky just a few blocks from where I stood. It’s like one second there’s clear skies then on the next there’s this huge thing swooping over Downtown. And yes, it’s a big muthafucker, looks like something you’d imagine the Justice League patrolling the sky’s in with Batman at the helm. You can’t help look at one of these things and not get the feeling that it ain’t from around here. And that the idea for it came from some crashed spaceship that the government found and back-engineered or something. Very impressive indeed.

I changed the title

Looks like the Man’s shipping a bunch of us from Kansas City to Maryland so as to be on site for the storm of the century, Hurricane Isabel. I’ll be remaining behind which is too bad cause my mother will be in Maryland visiting my brother and his wife for a week. And it would’a been kind’a cool to drop in on everybody whilst working on the Man’s dime. But it’s probably for the best since just today I told my brother’s wife that she was fuckin a retard. And here’s why. My sister called me at work today tellin me that she had just talked to my brother’s wife who was passing on the message that my brother wanted us to go out and buy a generator and have it shipped out to his house in Maryland. And my sister asked me to call my up there and see what the fuck was what? So I gets hold of Margaret, who’s my brother’s better half and asked her what the fuck was up. She tells me what my brother wants done. I listen, uh huh, uh huh, and muthafuckin uh huh? Then I tell her that one of these day’s she’s gonna wake up in a cold sweat cause she’s finally realized that she’s been fuckin a retard for the past few years. Dammit, I shouldn’t be so harsh, but here’s what my brother wanted. He want me to go and find him a generator, then call him so that he can send me the money to pay for it then have it shipped up to where he lives. Hell by the time it gets up there fuckin Isabel will have been done and gone. So instead I suggested to Margaret that she go online and find one. We both started lookin and found that Sears has more then a few in stock. So she was either gonna call and order one or just go by and buy one, instead of trying to find one here in town and go thru the process of having it UPS’d up to Maryland. I mean, that make sense doesn’t it?

TV

I’m bored, wonder what’s on the stinkin TV?
• 3. Everybody loves Raymond, never seen it, I guess I don’t love Raymond
• 5. Community programming. Ooh, SheepFest 2003 is coming to town. I don’t even wanna know what a fuckin SheepFest is.
• 6. Paradise Hotel. I’m clueless.
• 7. Half and Half, never seen it.
• 8. The Sharon Osborne show. She’s interviewing Justin Timberlake, Ozzy should do her in the ass for that one
• 9. Something call the Coin Vault, I’m not that old or lonely yet.
Fuck, doing this is boring, how bouts we skip a few channels?
• 15. Rocky. Always a classic. You know that dumb talkin fucker wrote all the Rocky movies?
• 24. MTV Road Rules. Michelle loves this show, but the only time I ever watched was when they had the drunk chick on a few years ago. Train wreak kept a coming. If I want to watch stupid young angst I’ll just go to the Hurricane.
• 25. BET Comic View. Not bad except that it’s censored. Say fuck for fuck’s sake!
• 26. Univision, I fuckin love the Spanish channel, I don’t even need to understand what I’m hearing cause I just love watching the women.
• 38. WWE wrestling. Shano Mac just gave the monster Kane half a dozen nut shots, then unveiled the Spanish announce table so as to lay Kane across it and do a flyin elbow drop on Kane from the top rope of the ring. Damn!
• 45. American Chopper. Oooh, I’ll watch that.

da plane! da plane!

Stevie on Caughtinthexfire was talkin about the air show she went too. So it got me to thinking about the time FEMA had me stationed in Wichita Kansas for a few months. Our field office was just a couple of miles from an air force base whose name I can’t remember, fuck look it up, Wichita ain’t like some big ass place. But anyway one of the fun things to do was hang out in out parking lot and watch the jets and shit fly over. One time I was having an especially troublesome day and when the Man got on you that bad the only escape from the phone and people was the shitter. Wither you had too or not, to get away you’d grab a newspaper and go sit for a half hour or so. So there I am reading a magazine with my pants down around my ankles when I hear this low rumble. It gets louder and louder and all of a sudden I’m coming off the toilet grabbin the walls because an air force B-1 just did a low flyby over our building. Now for those of you in the dark, a B-1 is a long range bomber equipped with stealth technology, and it’s known as one of the loudest jets in service. So when that muthafucker flew over our building just less then two hundred feet off the deck, it was shaking the fuckin walls and shit. I truly thought god was pissed and kickin in the fuckin door

It was the giant muffy that ruined my day

So here was my weekend, Friday I snapped the crapper off the wall at work. Wasn’t on my floor but in the building I work in nevertheless. Not a good day. Then I get on the bus to go home and soon as I sit down the chick sittin in front whips around and pulls a full on sneer and grabs her nose. Like what the fuck? Then she opens the window next to her and tries to shove her face through it. Was it me? Oh, and don’t let me forget the crazy bitch this morning at the bus stop. This makes the second time I’ve seen her, picture a black chick damn near six feet tall healthier then a muthafucker, pullin at least two hundred pounds wearin nothing but one of those tiny baby doll romper outfits. Titties all hanging out and with the bottom of the outfit lookin like it’s been used to tow cars and shit. And let’s not forget the big fluffy pink towel wrapped around her head. The other day she had a pink baby doll outfit but Friday she had a gray one. If I didn’t know better it looks like she just crawled out of bed and decided to take her crazy ass for a walk. And then there’s the walk, some kind of exaggerated Mae West kind of thing. And did I say she does all this whilst holding at least three separate conversations with herself? But the visual came as she walked toward me as I’m crossing the street. And can I say to all those critics who try to bust my chops cause I wear shades all the time? Its times like this that I’m glad I do, cause as she walked toward me talking to herselves I was able to not make eye contact. But back to the visual, as she walked past I fell to temptation and turned around and was treated to the site of a near nekked giant ass and a set of pucker lips that looked like it had swallowed Tito Jackson feet first. Damn! No wonder my day went bad, yours would too after seeing a wonder of nature like that. After I get off the bus and into my car the first person I see is Michelle, who was pulling up to meet me at the Hurricane, but I asked her to hold off for a while cause I wasn’t going anywhere till I went home and cleaned up. Even though I couldn’t smell anything out of place I had to be sure. So later I’m at the Hurricane with Michelle and Mito listening to a band called Forest Whitlow and the Crash who turned out to be very nice guys and even let me sit in with em. But later that night I was asked to go downstairs into the office and show some of the doormen how to pull up my site on the office computer. So downstairs we go, remember a while ago I was walkin down the same stairs and fell so hard I blew my pants off? Well, I muthafuckin fell again. Goddammit! I figured then it was probably a good time to take my jinxed ass home. Saturday night I was back at the Cane talkin to Steve Tulipana who was tending bar and he tole me that he’s been tapped to go on a nation wide tour with my boy James Dewees of “Reggie and the full effect”. So I told Steve to hook me up with an itinerary and I’d post it up. It’ll be a six week tour running from the east coast to the west coast and point’s in-between. Another great thing about Steve touring with Reggie and the full effect is that they’ll be working the full rock star treatment including the big assed tour bus.
And last night I was fortunate enough to hear the next big thing. And remember that you heard it here first. One of the opening bands went by the name “Red Authentic”, and they just rocked my socks off. The lead singer was this little girl with the hugest clearest voice I’ve heard in some time. They had the whole deal working, tight band, original songs and a singer that just shreds; I’m actually at a loss for words to describe how much these cats impressed me, and not just me but everyone around me. It sends chills down my back to know that one of these days I can say that I heard em first at the Hurricane in Kansas City. It reminded me when I first saw Stevie Ray Vaughn play in front of twenty people here in town at a club on Main called Harlings. We were all familiar with his brother Jimmy Vaughn but we’d never heard of Stevie for shit. So twenty of us came to see what he had and we were witness to greatness. Stevie and Double Trouble had a small four channel PA hooked up to these two big pink speaker boxes that he had cranked up to eleven. He just left us lying on the floor bleeding hurt and happy, afterwards we all got drunk together. So from then on until he died I made it a point to see him whenever he came in to town. To me he was my Jimmy Page and Eric Clapton. To see greatness for the first time is very cool.

so wrong

I was just downstairs on the second floor of the building taking a dump. As I'm sitting there I suddenly dropped six inches cause the fucking crapper snapped off the wall!! I never moved so fast in my life. I wasn't going to tell anybody cause it was so embarrassing, but as soon as I got back to my desk I called building maintenance and fessed up to what happened. They told me no problem and was I alright. I told em yeah, just scared the shit out'a me. They said it might have been a terrorist attack, I said yeah, against my fat ass. I think I owe them boy’s a case or two of cold one’s.

1932--2003

I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die.
Johnny Cash

red redss whined,:LINqsddddddddddd

Fuck me running! I just helped myself to a couple of glasses of that “Three Thieves” wine that Steve gave me from his trip to the Napa Valley. And I can’t type worth a fuckin shit. I hink that’s the first wine ive had in ever, what a buzzzzzzzzzz. I’m really havint to consintrate on what keys I hit. Shit, jim bean dosen’t have nothing on three Thives. I think I better go to bed now. Bye bey..............................................................................................aaaaaaa<<,,,,,,,gaQ

new shit

I've added some new links so take time to check em out.

Bad Bob and bad people

Hmmm, today’s the second anniversary of the tragedy that was the terrorist attack on America. More then three thousand people were murdered on this day two years ago. Since then America has committed itself to two wars on two different fronts, we as Americans are giving up some of our civil liberties in the fight on terrorism. Our government has and is spending trillions of dollars in the fight to combat terrorism. Religious prosecution is up and American’s themselves are being attacked on a daily basis because of their ethnic dress and beliefs. In short, it’s like what the fuck? Cause in two years time the camel cock swilling muthafucker that set all this shit off is still out there free as a fuckin bird. I don’t know, but out of respect to the all the dead I’m gonna leave it alone today. Plus theres a lot of people out there that can put shit into words and prospective better then I can. So instead of me fumbling for words I can’t or won’t express, how bouts we sweat the small stuff for a while?
Like the fact that all American’s can take great pride in the fact that we seem to be the world leaders in air conditioning. This summer alone more then four thousand people died in Italy from the heat. And don’t even get me started on the French. Muthafucker’s can sneer at us all they want but at least we know how to flip on the fuckin AC when it’s needed. Goddamn, how can an advanced nation like France let over fifteen thousand of it’s own people die from the heat. Then again this is the same bunch of Jacques Cousteau’s that fucked over thousands of it’s own people with blood plasma infected by the Aids virus a few years ago.
Oh, some of the older reader’s of the site might remember ole Tab Hunter; he was a big movie star during the fifties, sixties and seventies. He did the musical “Damn Yankees”. “The Sea Chase” which was cool in it’s self because it stared John Wayne as a fuckin German sea captain. Yeah, the Duke as a German sea captain, fuck who cast this muthafucker? But Tab also played in a great little movie called “The life and times of Judge Roy Bean” starring Paul Newman. Not only was this a fun movie to watch but it featured one of the baddest muthafuckin villains ever to climb off a horse; Bad Bob, played by a young over the top Stacy Keach. In one scene Bad Bob climbs off his horse and ambles up to the campfire where some of his gang is sittin around drinking coffee. Bob, instead of using a cup just reaches into the fire, grabs the coffee pot and drinks stright from it. It was like damn, now that’s a bad muthafucker. But anyway, the reason I mentioned Tab Hunter in the first place was that at the age of 72 he’s decided to come out of the closet and announce to the world that he’s gay. It’s like this, Tab, you’re seventy-two years old. Who gives a fuck if you’re gay? I’m just sayin is all. Damn, I go thru a lot to say shit sometimes don’t I? And I’ll close with the big oops of the day. Scientist at a Lockheed Martin plant in San Jose dropped a 240 million dollar satellite off a table whilst working on it. Fucked it up they did. I don’t know why, but hearing about that kind’a puts the whole day into it’s proper perspective.

I am the God of HELLFIRE!!

Just for shit's and giggles, and because some of you are dying to know what I look like and shit. Here's me from my bouncing days at the old LoneStar in Kansas City. My mother and sister just fuckin looooves this picture.

breastisisisisis

What’s the deal about breasts? No, seriously, what is it about a mound of fatty tissue perched on a chick’s chest that makes men turn into whimpering fools? As an equal opportunity lover of the female breast, I’ve been giving this a lot of thought as of late. And I for the life of me can’t figure out the rationale behind it. Are they art? Cause I know there’s shit out there that passes for art that people spend thousands of dollars on to look at. But when I look at some of it the reason for buyin it just goes over my head. But everybody loves titties. Then you gots the deep thinker’s and their ilk sayin it’s because we were given suck at the breast as babies. But I don’t buy into that either, even though I’ve seen the videos of women lactating and shit I wasn’t really all that turned on by it. Hold it, is being fascinated the same as being turned on? Then there’s the size issue. Now I’ll admit I like a nice big ole honking breast, but mind you if I see a small one I’m just as thrilled. Then you got the ages old argument about real breasts versus fake breasts. But to be all truthful and shit? I don’t really care. If a chick feels she needs to bump it up a size or two or three to make herself happy, then more power to her. I’m just as happy with either. But I will tell you what? I do enjoy watchin a breast jiggle as a women walks. Yes I do. And then there’s the comfort factor. Isn’t it soothing as all get out just to lay your head against a woman’s breasts? All the pain goes away along with stress and fear and even though she might not love you? For those few minutes you feel loved. And that goes hand in hand with feeling a breast. Women have this wonderful thing they do that if they’re talking to you and they like you they kind’a lay their breasts against you. And even though you know they’re doing it, you act like you don’t know they’re doing it, cause once they know that you know that they know you know, that’s when they pull away and the contact is gone and it’s not cool anymore. I think it’s just something that most men are born with. Men are born with the inherent knowledge that without knowing why, or caring why, they are to love and admire the female breast. Now I realize some of my female friends might think me a bit on the shallow side talkin like this. But I had to get it out. Because as a known lover of the female breast and as one who’s spent much of his life trying to see and have contact with as many as I can. I just felt that I had to get this off my chest. So to speak.

red red wine

My buddy Steve from Season To Risk and his too hot to look at in the direct light of day wife swung thru the Napa Valley on their vacation. And bless their hedonistic hearts; they brought me a jug of wine back. Here’s what muthafucker’s that know wine say about it. "Three Thieves Zinfandel 2002 has finally been released!! We tasted it a few months ago and it's good stuff! Bottled in a 1-liter jug, it's fun too! Sixty-six percent of the grapes are from Napa and 34% from Lodi. It's great Zin - grapey and tasty - with lots of wonderful fruit flavors bursting through. Take a jug to the next party - you'll be very popular!" Damn, muthafucker’s can describe a bottle of wine can’t they? Grapey and tasty, with lots of wonderful fruit flavors bursting through. Sounds like a blowjob doesn’t it?

whole lot of rubbin

So it seems that if shit carries weight California gubernatorial candidate Arnold Schwarzenegger might be a wee bit of a racist. No kidding huh? Ole Arnie a racist, now who would’a thought that? Plus that shows the downside of going political. Muthafucker’s will take your fuckin past and dissect it like a carburetor in shop class, unless you’re a Tom Hanks and shit, you don’t stand a chance. Then again, Tom did star in Bosom Buddies. The other day my aged mother took her PT Cruiser and drove to the park where she met up with her car club. They all lined em up and took pictures for the local black newspaper. So when I get a copy I’ll post em on the site. Oooh, my little hot chica pal? The one who’s been busting my balls about not having any kids to carry on my lineage? Well, apparently she’s getting her just rewards for fuckin with me. It seems the other night that I came to her in her dreams. And she’s either having “unspoken” urges or she’s a stone cold freak, cause in her dream I was wearin nothing but a black rubber bondage outfit running around jackin off as she watched. Huh? Huh? See, I think its her subconscious fucking with her head because of her statement that I was letting good seed go to waste by not having babies. So due in part to that statement he subconscious made her dream that she saw me in this abandoned house wearin a rubber bondage suit running around rubbing one off on the walls and shit. And further more I told her that I hope she dreams about me every night this week. It’ll serve her young ass right and might help keep her grounded.

Simple needs?

Did I have an exhausting weekend or what? Oh, you wouldn’t know would ya? Well, let me get started then. Got up early Saturday morning and after buyin some smokes I decided to have another go at my car window. So after taking everything apart and actually pullin the window assembly completely out, I found that one of the clamps that hold the window onto its track had broken in half. So once I fix/replace that part I’ll be rockin in tall cotton again. After that I came in and started working on my website. And before I go any farther, I want to thank the legions of people who helped out with ideas and suggestions. Apparently my reader base is all down with the idea of me posting pictures on the site, (sick bastards). But anyway, I started working on shit at noon on Saturday and instead of going out that night I was still working on shit, and when the clock hit four Sunday morning I said finally said fuck this and went to bed. But sometime Sunday afternoon I accomplished what I wanted to do. Actually I’d done it a lot earlier on Saturday but I was trying to make changes and shit, which is what’s partly responsible for taking so long. First off I had to scan the pictures into my computer, then I went to Roadrunner and built myself a small website to post the pictures too. Then using Microsoft FrontPage I uploaded to pictures to the RR website which when I opened one up gave it it’s own URL address. Which then after going to my Blogsite I was able to post with the proper code to make the pictures appear on my site. Which I know sounds very involved, which it is but understand I’m on a blogsite, not a FTP type website. And after getting all this shit working it came to me and Michelle who had stopped by to view my progress, that the pictures were really fuckin big. So most of the evening on Saturday was spent trying to make the pictures appear smaller but then my RR website stopped accepting FrontPage and I had to make another one and then that one stopped accepting shit. So I did what no self-respecting man ever does, I called the Roadrunner help desk. After getting some cat from India on the line that I couldn’t understand for shit, I was able to garner enough recognizable information to go back to FrontPage and make shit work. But after all that turmoil I decided that the pictures disrupted the flow of things and took em down and put up links instead. Same affect, same pictures, but without the in your face thing going on.

The ex stressed out Italian roommate!

Sorry, but I don’t seem to have any pictures of the ex stressed out Italian roommate wearing clothes. Go figure. I like this pose cause I took the picture whilst laying in bed. Which is good cause most likely I was massively spent from getting my groove on. Yeah, and from running that four minute mile too.

Michelle

Ok, I got shit figured out now, it's like I get something going and then I can't sleep until I figure out how it does what it does. So here again are a couple of pictures of my favorite gal pal Michelle. we took one of these at a local city park and the other one was Holloween at the Hurricane. You can guess which one is which.

fuckin fuck!

So I get off the fuckin bus from work and hop into my car to go home. I shut the fuckin door and the fuckin driver’s side window drops fuckin out’a sight. I goes what the fuck and drives on home cause there’s fuckin nothing I can do in the middle of a parking lot. So I get home and I start lookin for the muthafuckin window but the fuckin things sittin in the bottom of my fuckin door. So I go, how fuckin hard can this be as I look at the fuckin door on my fuckin car that just earlier had fuckin swallowed my fuckin window. I get a couple of tools and light a smoke and I get to unscrewing shit. Exactly fifteen fuckin screws later I had the door cover off. Then I goes what the fuck, cause there’s this huge wiring harness attached to the son of a bitch, and you knows how wiring gets me all in a tizzy and shit. But I cowboy up and starts with the unplugin of shit hoping that my dense ass remembers where everything goes when it comes time to put it all back together. Then it’s what the fuck time again as I find myself staring at this weird rubber/plastic membrane covering the door. After lookin at it for a few minutes I figure I can maybe peel it back out’a my way and shit, but lo and fuckin behold the shittin thing is attached to the door by this shit that looks and feel of thick road tar. But peel it back I does. And to make a long story short I got the window back on its track where it had popped off. And I think I put everything back together the same way it came undone. And I only had a couple of screws left over. But I’m still scared to try the window to see if it works or not, cause I really don’t want to go thru that shit again. Until I get my nuts in a row I’ll just be one of those muthafucker’s you see at the drive-thru and you wonder why don’t he just roll down the fuckin window instead of squeezing money thru his partially open door.

Boob bugg...boom buggies

Hmmm, no pictures yet, see here’s the deal. I’m on what’s called a blogsite; it’s not like a normal web page but more like a publishing tool. It’s free to all who want to use it, but you can as I did pay a tiny fee to make it ad free. Or you can opt for a larger monthly fee where you get access to a pro version where you can have multiple pages and the ability to post pictures and shit. But there are blogger’s out there that have found a way around payin the pro fee and are able to post photos on their blogsites. And this is what I’ve been attempting. It’ll happen, I have no doubt. But hell, maybe it’s for the better, I’ve taken some pictures of some strange shit over the years.
Here at work some of us got to talking about the Amish and I brought up the subject of Amish teenagers and the shit they do for fun. And a talk like this wouldn’t be complete without bringing up the Amish boom buggies. With not owning a car and shit the kids have figured out how to work the system. What they’ll do is take one of their buggies, and stick a bunch of car batteries in the back end of it. And up front where they sit muthafucker’s will either install a CD player or have a box with all the proper shit in it. Some of these buggies are pimped out with velour interiors and up to six speakers’s including a couple of 18-inch subwoofer’s. The Amish, rockin with their cocks out, who knew?

corn passes thru you and vise versa

So far my preliminary experiments with putting pictures on the site have proved fruitless. I can see em on my home computer and my computer at work, but no one else can. I’ll keep working at it. President Bush is in town today, I forget what for and don’t really care. Except for the fact that if someone tries to disrupt his karma, I hope they wait till he’s out’a here, by why am I bring him up anyway? I rather talk about the Amish. In Ohio the local Amish have this thing where some of the younger ones hide out in the fields, and as cars drive by they lay waste to em with tomatoes. Everybody has a good laugh and looks the other way cause it’s seen as nothing more then a harmless prank. Plus the Amish have the thing called the “Wilding”. Up to the kid’s seventeenth birthday, they’re allowed to be young freaks and shit cause if memory serves me correctly, it supposed to work all the bad shit out’a their system. And when they hit seventeen, then it’s time to come into the fold and straighten up and fly right. But the other day some of em picked the wrong hombre to go fuckin with. The Amish pulled off a cornfield drive by and the muthafucker they pelted with tomatoes came back and pumped off a few shotgun rounds back at em and ended up killing one of em. I ain’t condoning the killing but the Amish need to buy a light bulb or two so that they can read the fuckin newspaper’s and realize that certain shit ain’t kosher. Hell, if kids in the hood playin with water guns spray the wrong cat with water as kids will, and the muthafucker comes up shooting and kills off a pack of the little crumb snatcher’s, what chance do the stinkin Amish have? This ain’t the land of Ozzie and Harriet anymore and certain things just don’t fly anymore. Somebody check and see where Fifty Cent was during all this, maybe he was driving thru Ohio and got pissed cause his bling bling got tomato all over it. I’m just sayin is all.

curses!

I thought I had pictures for you all to look at but I guess it’s gonna take some more work to make shit do right. Excuse me for the false start.

tower of babble

You wanna know a secret? I never really planned on living this long. I thought that with certain things I went thru back in the late nineties that my number would’a been up by now. I guess a good shrink could figure what’s up, cause when I thought I was gonna cash in, I got a new mindset on things. And the problem is that now I want to hang around for a while, but I can’t seem to break out of this thing I put myself into. It’s like I stopped all planning for the future and been doing nothing but living for the day cause I never expected to have much of a future. It’s affected my life; my work and I suspect even my family. It’s very hard to explain, but it’s feels very out of control. Imagine getting behind the wheel of a car and takin it up to fifty or sixty miles an hour, unbuckling the seatbelt and then taking your hands off the wheel, and leaving it up to God to decide. It’s like something I heard on TV last night; I’m not a very religious person, but I’m a very spiritual person. I imagine if my mother knew how much I talk to God she’d be a bit surprised. I know I need to pull it all together but I’m not sure how. And somewhere in all this I’m always wondering if I’m missing out, but to be truthful, I am missing out. A friend threw this at me the other day. She found it disgraceful that I’ve done nothing to farther my family name. No wife, no kids, no grandkids for my mother to hang out with. When she first told me this I blew it off as nothing, I don’t need kids or a wife, what the hell is she talkin about. But then again sometimes I think I do. When I was younger that’s what I thought about, having a wife and kids and living the family life. I was so sure that as soon as I got out of school it’d be a done thing. Then my mid-twenty’s came and went, and then my thirty’s came and went. By then my priorities had changed and I just felt lucky to be hanging on. But when I see old girlfriends with their kids and think how if things had gone different, that kid could’a been mine, it bums me slightly. I don’t know, things are changing around me and I don’t know if I want to keep up or not. For a cat that works in a very fluid business, I despise change. I enjoy doing the same things, seeing the same people. Knowing that on Friday’s after work I’m gonna have a pot of coffee then a few drinks. Sometime people give me a hard time because I’m like that, but it’s for a reason I think. In years past I jumped from place to place, trying every new experience I could find. I ran with the “in” crowd and hung out at the trendiest bars. But then I got enlightened, I figured out that it wasn’t the crowds or the location or the “it” factor that did it for me. Why be like everybody else when everybody else didn’t even want to be themselves? An asshole is an asshole that can be an asshole will be an asshole. Did any of the above make any sense? Hell, maybe the truth of the thing is that I just need a new set of bath towels. Peace

who says I don't know how to have fun

I wake up this morning at nine thirty and the first thing I see when I turn on the TV is American Choppers on the Discovery Channel. They’re running an all day Labor Day marathon. Then I see that the History Channel is running eight hours of programming dedicated to American motorcycles and its culture. So my entire Labor Day is spent sitting nekked on my couch from nine thirty this morning till ten in the evening switching between both channels. I think I broke away just long enough to brush my teeth and wash my face, and later cook dinner. Oh, I did throw on a pair of sweats around eight cause Michelle called and said she was coming over. So we ended up watching the last two hours together. A pack of smokes, Dr Pepper in the fridge and fried chicken, plus over twelve hours of bike shit on the tube. Oh yeah, I know how to fuckin party.