tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12481975215487522042024-03-12T16:52:00.158-07:00The Rantings Of Crazy BearRantings, mostly of a political nature, from the mind of a somewhat disturbed, somewhat smartass, part time musician, poet, activist, & full time slacker, Indigenous to Turtle Island...Crazy Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554733821659283049noreply@blogger.comBlogger68125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248197521548752204.post-9227291149937759662022-10-21T07:59:00.000-07:002022-10-21T07:59:32.090-07:00Shoes...<p> <span style="color: #6fa8dc;">Ok. I had this girlfriend once who really liked shoes. She must've had 50 pairs of shoes under the bed. This will be important later. So this girl used to take excruciatingly long in the bathroom. I've peed out windows. But I digress... One time she was in the bathroom for a long time. A <i>really</i> long time. Too long. And I had to shit. So I reached under the bed... I reached way back, and I grabbed me a shoe. One that I figured she didn't even know was under there... I shit in the shoe. Then I wiped my ass with kleenex and stuffed that into the shoe. I wasn't sure what to do next. I was pondering this, when I heard the bathroom door open. In a panic, I stuffed the shoe back under the bed. Way back. Fast forward a bit, sometime later... She says, "Do you <i>smell</i> something?" I said "<i>sniff sniff, </i>No." She said, "<i>sniff sniff,</i> Amost smells like... <i>sniff... </i><b style="font-style: italic;">shit."</b> I must've let a laugh slip out. She said, <i>"You think it's funny?!"</i> I said, "No, just the way you said it was funny." She said, "Well I'm gonna find it, whatever it is." And she proceeded to walk all around the apartment, sniffing. I was grinning and gritting my teeth at the same time. I got up and took the trash out. Then i told her there was a rotten potato and I got rid of it. That worked temporarily, but I still had to do something about the shoe full of shit. So the next time I was alone in the apartment, I pulled the bed out from the wall, found the poop shoe, and wailed it out the window as far as I could. Pushed the bed back and called it a done deal. ...Until we were getting ready to go somewhere and she couldn't find one shoe. One <i>particular</i> shoe, that should've been <i>right there, where she always kept it... ... ..Uh oh.</i> She had the bed out from the wall, and all the shoes laid out in pairs on the bed, and there was one shoe missing. <i>"Where's my shoe?!"</i> "I have no idea." <i>(True. It went out the window, so maybe, outside?) "Bullshit. There's nobody else here but you and me. </i><b style="font-style: italic;">Where's my fuckin shoe?!"</b> "I don't know." (Again, <i>true.</i>) So, I'm not gonna rehash the whole fight, but I was the bad guy by default. <i>Again.</i></span></p><p><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"> ..About a week later we were going somewhere, and she just said, <i>"Stop!"</i> She opened the door yelling, <i>"Thats my shoe! That's my fuckin shoe!"</i> I sat there and watched her run over to a pink thing lying in the grass, pick it up, inspect it, reach into it, and drop it. Then she just started screaming. I sat there shaking my head, thinking, <i>well, I'm fucked now.</i> Better find a couch to surf on. She was on her knees now, still screaming. I thought about just closing the door and driving away, but I didn't. I pulled the door shut, but I just sat there watching her... Then something unexpected happened. I didn't notice the cop approaching until he was almost on top of her. When he spoke to her she screamed back at him. She stood up and started flailing her arms, and he took her down and handcuffed her. Oh shit. A crowd was forming by this time. Everybody didn't have camera phones back then, this was like 1992, but folks sure had a boatload of morbid curiosity. He pulled her up to her feet, and she kind of spit-yelled in his face, <i>"He shit in my shoe!"</i> And then, <i style="font-weight: bold;">"Waaaaaaah!"</i> I'm just sitting there in the car with my mouth hanging open. As he was dragging her to his car, she kept screaming, "<i>My shoe! My shoe!"</i> over and over. She went to the psych ward that day. I went home and started packing.</span></p><p><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><b>Oops. </b>My bad.</span></p><p><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">I kept a hairy eyeball over my shoulder for a couple years. You know what they say about a woman scorned. I honestly never expected it to escalate to that point, until it did. I didn't see it coming. Then I just sat there staring like a deer in the headlights while the cop hauled her off. I didn't even try to intervene. And then I just drove away. To assume she hated my guts at that point would be an understatement. I sold that car and got a pickup that she wouldn't recognize. I didn't mean her any harm. When you gotta go you gotta go. </span></p><p><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">The moral of the story? <i>I don't know.</i> Maybe <i>don't shit in your girlfriend's shoe?</i> I guess...</span></p><p><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"> And if you do, don't throw it out the window where she can find it.</span></p>Crazy Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554733821659283049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248197521548752204.post-32656298518667925892021-06-24T07:14:00.000-07:002021-06-24T07:14:07.143-07:00Business As Usual...<p><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">I'm sick of politics. I'm sick of the same old tired rhetoric. I'm sick of the left and the right throwing shit at each other while all of us get fucked by both of them. Answer these two questions: 1) What are conservatives conserving? 2) What are liberals liberating?</span></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">I see the 1% desperately trying to keep themselves rich and the rest of us poor. I see snowflakes from every corner trying to further their own agendas, while not giving a fuck about anybody else. I see opinions flying like pigeons. I don't see any unity. I don't see much happening for the greater good. Cops still bully innocent citizens while criminals are running the country. The rich pay no taxes, but the rest of us are expected to pay too much. They're systematically eliminating the middle classes and fucking the worker at every turn. And don't even let me start abour religion. Authoritarianism is not the answer, never was, never will be. Fascism, communism, no real difference from the common man's perspective. We get fucked over, taxed almost to death, and are expected to obey them like slaves. Small business gets fucked because big corporate business doesn't want competition. In a communist society the government owns everything, you own nothing, and they dole a few crumbs out as they see fit. They expect you to be happy in your servitude, and obey them without question, attend rallies to praise the "leader" and kiss his ass, and if you don't, they send you to a gulag. In a fascist society the rich own everything, including the government, and they expect you to obey them without question, accept the bare minimum pay, and attend mass gatherings to praise the "leader" and kiss his ass. If you don't, they send you to a work camp. Doesn't sound all that different to me. You get fucked by the man either way. And religion is basically the same, obey us or suffer in fire for all eternity, give us 10% of everything, and never question anything. Whatever happened to freedom? Obey, obey, obey... <i>Fuck you! i'm not gonna obey you! You can go pound salt!</i> </span></p>Crazy Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554733821659283049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248197521548752204.post-39261031410075397482019-08-14T13:52:00.000-07:002019-08-14T13:52:22.966-07:00Redo De Doodoo. Redone De Dungdung. Redone Redundant Redundancies.<span style="color: lime;">There. There it is, there. </span><i style="color: orange;">Where? </i><span style="color: lime;">Right there. Next to John Cena. Can't see the forest for the trees. People smile and lie thru their teeth at you while they shake your hand. It's business. SOP. Happens everyday... People cheat, cut corners, half-ass things, do sloppy work, no fucks given. Happens on the job site. Happens in the office. Happens in the bank, the police department, city, county, state, federal government, etc. Shit's in all walks of life. <i>Crap in a bucket.</i> Been going on for a long time, too. Some contractor 20, 30 years ago did a shitty job on a house, and now it's falling apart. The owner doesn't remember the guy's name, <i>if</i> it's even the same homeowner... The motherfucker isn't gonna get in trouble for doing a shitty job and ripping the guy off. You apply for a loan or a line of credit, file an insurance claim, whatever, and they promptly lose your paperwork...</span><br />
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<span style="color: lime;">Shit happens. That's what they say. Shit always happens, and oh well, as long as it happens to somebody else. It's not until it happens to you that you begin to give a fuck. Now all of a sudden it's unfair! Guess what, it was unfair when that guy ripped off Grampa Joe on his soffit & fascia thirty years ago, and it was unfair when Bob the Bankster stole Billy Bubba's farm out from under him, and it was unfair when Doug the Developer bought the land from Bob's Bank and destroyed it to build a plan of McMansions and a strip mall... It's <i>never</i> been fair, any of it. They tear down the ghetto to build gentrified yuppiedom, and they destroy the countryside to build projects to house the people they evicted from the ghetto. Then 20 years go by, and the projects are now the ghetto, the surrounding streets are the hood, and the yuppies want to expand their territory. They want to push the "undesirable element" of humanity (IE: The poor) further and further away from their fancy bullshit facade. They push the farmers out and build suburbia for themselves, and more projects to isolate the poor away from themselves. But downtown wears the gaudiest of plastic masks.</span><br />
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<span style="color: lime;">Everything is shit anymore. Buildings are built too quickly, out of the cheapest available materials, by the cheapest available labor, (which is usually illegals,) wrapped in a plastic face, and sold for an overinflated price, most often to yuppies or businesses that can't afford it but have "good credit." </span><br />
<span style="color: lime;">Vehicles are made the same way, assembled out of the cheapest available materials, by the cheapest available labor, (robots in this case,) mass-produced for mass-consumption, like everything else, and the cars all look the same anymore, they all look like plastic toys, not real cars. The last year cars looked like cars was 1979. The last year they produced <i>good </i>cars was 1972. </span><br />
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<span style="color: lime;">Everything is crappy mass-produced trash anymore. There's no pride in craftsmanship. There's no quality control. Everything has a half-life. New cars begin to depreciate the instant you sign the paperwork, before you even drive it off the lot. The only thing that still gets better with age is bourbon. Well, and old things that are already old, of course. But most new things will never get old because they're built to wear out in a specific time frame.</span><br />
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<span style="color: lime;">Everything is a watered-down version of itself. Everything is a caricature of itself, a <i>cartoon</i> of itself, fake and plastic, <i>artificial...</i> {Consider the Mandela Effect..} And it's all designed to keep the rich and powerful rich and powerful, and the rest of us in the fuck barrel. You, me, college boys, wannabe yuppies with good credit, we're all being lied to by the privileged few, the .001% of the 1%.</span><br />
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<span style="color: lime;">And yes, it's all redundant. "Representative Democracy" is bullshit. Who do they represent? The rich motherfuckers that got them "elected?" Certainly not you and me. Maybe if actual working class Americans were elected, and provided they were <i>not</i> corrupted by the system, maybe we would get proper representation, <i>maybe</i>... and that's a stretch. Blacks would side with blacks, whites would side with whites, Christians would side with Christians... But if we could just remove the banks and the corporate world from government, maybe, just maybe, we might make some headway. Removing the filthy uber-rich from government altogether requires mass revolution on a grand scale, which itself requires <i>unity</i> among humanity on a <i>global</i> scale. How can we accomplish that when the religious folks cant even agree on a god, and you can't even get two people to agree on pizza toppings? People actually like and some may even admire Donald Trump. - Sitting here shaking my motherfuckin head as to <i>why</i>, but some folks do. They think he cares about America, Jesus H Christ, Trump cares about <i>Trump.</i> That's it. Sure, he'd like to make the country into <i>his</i> ideal, which to the rest of us would be a fascist dictatorship, but ultimately all he gives a fuck about is himself. Bernie Sanders and Ron Paul are the only two politicians who have said anything even remotely sensible in my lifetime, and I'm 53. But Dennis Banks might make a good president. Colin Powell probably would have, and people actually wanted him to run, and he declined flat out. That right there should tell you something. It sure speaks volumes to me.</span>Crazy Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554733821659283049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248197521548752204.post-91055354394449592232017-12-27T16:53:00.000-08:002017-12-27T16:53:10.363-08:00...Why the fuck?...<span style="color: #d0e0e3;">Better to rule in hell than to serve in heaven, they say. I say why must it be a choice of one extreme or the other? I seem to recall hearing someone in a movie say that only sith deal in absolutes... So here is my line of thinking: Why do they make it a choice between being tortured for eternity or prostrating oneself before the all mighty Deity, singing praises to It for eternity? Neither option sounds remotely enjoyable to me. I'm not a mindless minion. I'm a human. I seek neither to serve, nor to be served, but simply to be. I would spend eternity living on a green planet, with clean air and pure water, and all manner of life, without the ravages of modern society. Other humans may be there, as long as they have mutual respect for one another, and for me, and for all that exists, and as long as they give me my space and my freedom to roam where I choose. ...But what does it mean to be human? Are we just the most highly advanced form of mammal that we know of, and when we leave this existence we return to the dirt? Or are we Spiritual beings having a human experience, our physical bodies no more / no less than avatars which we use to interface with this dimension? Are we gods? Are we sons and daughters of Man? Are we kept livestock for some sinister superior race? Or are we just a multitude of fucking observers? What purpose does our existence serve? - None of these questions has ever been answered to my satisfaction, nor have any of these concepts as yet been proven or disproven to me beyond shadow of doubt. Why do religions and governments have such authoritarian ultimatums and such severe punishments for disobedience? If to err is human, then why are we punished for being human? "Oops, I fucked up. I didn't mean to, I made a mistake." </span><span style="color: red;"><b><i>Beat-beat-beat! Whup-whup-whup! Cane-cane-cane! Jail, gaol, imprison, punish, inflict pain... Punish! Punish! Punish! Drag! Shackle! Enslave... Cage, domesticate, manipulate, control..... </i></b></span><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">How is that any semblance of fair? So then why is the unfair and unjust done? Why is this unnecessary suffering visited upon us? Or is it a <i>necessary</i> suffering, for some greater, as yet unrevealed purpose? </span><br />
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">What is a five year old's favorite word? "Why?" I asked that question when I was innocent, and was given an incorrect answer. The answer I got was, "Because I say so." Well that's insufficient! It's a bullshit answer! It's a fucking copout! It's not only insufficient, it's <i>unacceptable.</i> Preacher man stands in the pulpit and says, "You will <i>obey</i> every word of this text, or fire and brimstone will rain down on you from above, <i>for eternity!</i> Because I say so!" I call bullshit. Pa says, "You will do as I say, not as I do, or I will whup your ass with a leather strap, because I say so!" I call bullshit. I recognize no outside authority, and beating me senseless won't alter that. Basically, if you can't or won't provide adequate explanation for your reasoning, then you must be lying, and/or your reasoning is flawed. That's how I figure it. </span><br />
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<span style="color: lime;">When unstoppable force meets immovable object: </span><span style="color: red;">{The Inquisition}</span><br />
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<span style="color: #d9ead3;">"Ok then, where is this god of whom you speak, who demands tribute and obedience, without explanation of reason, and punishes mercilessly for any infraction"</span><br />
<span style="color: #fce5cd;">"He is <i>everywhere, within all things."</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #d9ead3;">"If he's in all things, then he's in me as well, for I am a part of everything, so then I am a part of god, so how can you punish a part of god? How can you abuse, torture, rape, pillage, and inflict pain and suffering upon a part of god? And why would he inflict pain and suffering upon a part of himself? Is he a sadomasochist?"</span><br />
<i><span style="color: #fce5cd;">"Do not blaspheme! Do not question God!"</span></i><br />
<i></i><span style="color: #d9ead3;">"How, by any stretch of imagination, is innate curiosity a blasphemy?"</span><br />
<b><i><span style="color: #fce5cd;">"Yours is not to reason why! Yours is but to do and die!"</span></i></b><br />
<span style="color: #d9ead3;"><b>"Bull fuckin <i>Shit!</i></b>"</span><br />
<b><i><span style="color: #fce5cd;">"You shalt not disobey!"</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="color: #d9ead3;">"Fuck you! I shalt do as I doth choose, and you shalt not hinder me!"</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="color: #f9cb9c;">"Guards!! Seize him and bind him in chains!! Take him to the medieval torture room!!"</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">"I will escape this madness, and I will come back here, and I will kill you."</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="color: #f6b26b;">"We will kill you first."</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="color: #93c47d;">"If so, then I will spit in your eye with my dying breath. ..Regardless, I will never obey you, and nothing you say or do can change that. I am human. I am free. I am me."</span></i></b><br />
<span style="color: #d9ead3;"></span><span style="color: #cfe2f3;"></span>Crazy Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554733821659283049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248197521548752204.post-87631385813040922017-12-24T21:27:00.001-08:002017-12-24T21:27:43.855-08:00The UFOs are coming...<span style="color: #9fc5e8;">The UFOs are coming. It's only a matter of time. Linear time is a human concept. Fleas don't perceive time the same as humans. Nor do rocks. Mice only see what is right in front of their faces. Monkey in the mirror. Frog in the spaghetti pot. Pork chitterlings. Roasted soybeans. I stuck my tongue in her urethra, on accident at first, but then on deliberate purpose, while I chewed on her clit. Softcore cunt sucking of the finest degree. I assure you. Parakeets recognize other parakeets. Cheez Whizz on a Ritz cracker. Olive milk. Pulled pigmeat. Hog maws. I like butter. How is the whiskey in these parts? I hear the heroin is to die for. That wasn't funny. But then it never is. Mister Pee Bottle and the wee-back machine. Timecop with a $2700.00 a day cocaine habit. That rolly-polly little blondie in the backseat of my 72 Buick. I didn't know it was her maiden voyage. I made her squirt on the ceiling. Monte Alban Mezcal. Fuzzy beer. George the bug. Don't leave a belt of Black Cat firecrackers sticking out of your pocket with easy access to the wick where one of your drunken buddies, an asshole like me, for instance, can very easily lean over with a cigarette and light it. Oops. Bet that smarts. We were jackasses when them dudes were still in diapers. Pass me another whore. Never claimed to be any kinda saint. Blood rains down from an angry sky, my cock rages on, my cock rages on. And how much whiskey does it take to make a drunk pass out in his boots and winter coat? About that much, I reckon. And I wasn't stealing them sheep, I was just giving them a ride in the back of my truck. Honest, ossifur. Sorry man, no leg of lamb tonight. But maybe a pigroast next week, provided we can steal us a pig... Times was more funnerer back then, back when cars was cars and cops was cops, and dirtbikes was the only way to fly, c'mon let's go get high. I wanna piss, but I'm too high, but I was stoneder then, and drunker than ten skunks. Ten drunk skunks with a pitbull chaser. I love that nobody really knows what the fuck I'm talking about. Good shit, Bolt! Fried cow patty. Dead fish on a bun with cheese. <i>I said with cheese!</i> ...Brotherhood of the minnow. Possum in the trashcan. Dog chasing a hog, yeah I seen it. Throwed outta the titty bar. What the fuck are you doing in the middle of the road? Drinkin. What fuckin mailboxes? I don't have a hole in my tire. I don't have a .357 laying on the dashboard. You'd see it if it was there. The fuck are you babbling about? Ok baby, yeah, let's go up in your backyard and hang out. I got some really good weed and some ludes. Chicken and a pig were walking one day, chicken said "I'm hungry. Are you hungry?" "I like chicken. Gawmp!" said the pig. Pigs is pigs. I ran over a duck with a 70-something Chevy Monza on the riverbank. The girls had a shit fit. I didn't do it on purpose. We had duck for supper. The girls wouldn't eat it. I love aminals. My buddy hit a pheasant with his Nova one time, same dealio, we ate the motherfucker. What are you gonna let it go to waste?! Poaching my ass. You know what poaches my ass? A four foot tire fire. I had a wire. It was my wire. Then I lit it on fire. This girl I know wants me to help her out of a jam. I want some pussy. But she's trouble with a capital T. And I been there and done that too many times before, not with this particular girl, but it's the same pattern. "I'm a poor little helpless waif, come and rescue me!" Never ends well. Never say never. Something about them junkie chicks.. Don't know man, maybe I'm addicted to addicts... Maybe my dick just doesn't have a conscience. Mother Lilith, may I cavort with one of your daughters? I won't harm her. I just wanna hold her naked sweaty body next to mine, for a time. But if you say I may, then I'd love to taste her. But if you say no, I may not, well then all's for the best. Trouble comes a-knockin at my window late at night, and I open up that motherfucker and say, "Hey Trouble! Come on in, let's party!" Then the feelings come sneaking in with her, and the junkie tears, and the protector instinct within me awakens. Look out Loretta. He's getting dragged around by the dick again. What were once vices are now habits, according to the Doobie Brothers. Trap. Steel jaws. Snap. Got me by the balls. Chasing after some young cunt again, like a bloodhound in the wind, this time it'll be different, that same old song again. Like iron to a magnet, like a dog to its own puke, keep on running back to Miss Trouble, that same old song again. A succubus will keep on sucking until she sucks you dry. It ain't her fault, boy, it's just the way she's made, she ain't even gotta try. She can draw you into her vortex with a subtle wink of her eye. And you ain't to blame neither, just a dog going after some pie. But shit happens. Fecal matter occurs naturally. My olfactory receptors are geared to sniff after the pussy. But we'll see what we will see. Maybe she'll find some other swinging dick to torment with her sweet lies... Either way... The UFOs are coming. You can't stop it. Donald Trump can't stop it. Maybe the Spirit of Nikola Tesla might be able to stop it, or at least delay the inevitable for a while. It's a crap-shoot. Who knows? Certainly not I. Maybe we ought to consult the Pussy Oracle.</span>Crazy Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554733821659283049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248197521548752204.post-64843488922711613312017-12-24T18:56:00.000-08:002017-12-24T18:56:38.382-08:00Hairy Piss-Miss, very muddy<span style="color: #f4cccc;">I purple a roadmap to pussy hole. No mung beans will know. Mudpuppy my bulldog with a nose hair booger on the windshield hawkenspit phlegm ball. Put the kettle on the nightstand kitty. I peel a cheese numbing pawn. Twelve trouts a-swimming, eleven lizzards meeping, ten Winstons burning, nine breadsticks baking, eight joints a-smoking, seven six-strings strumming, six pack of Guinness, five hits from bong, four stinky turds, three ink pens, two cats on bed... And a big fat bag of weed.</span>Crazy Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554733821659283049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248197521548752204.post-90241678865250434132017-12-24T08:59:00.000-08:002017-12-24T09:05:28.882-08:00X-mas Frootloops<span style="color: red;">Spiritual constipation, coupled with diarrhea of the vocal cords, and abject moral bankruptcy... I love words. Except whenever I don't. God is great, God is good, let us thank him for our food. How do you know it's a <i>him?</i> What? Just because some self-important, anal-retentive preacher said so? Or because you read it in a book? Please. You've completely ignored the Mother Goddess. You treat our planet, our own species, and other species as well, as though it was all just a plaything put here for your own personal amusement. A complete lack of respect for the Sacred. Total indifference to all but your own whims. Narcissus Rex. King Baby. President Trump. Royal Feces. Useless as tits on a bull.</span><br />
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<span style="color: red;">One of my cats stepped on my dick while I was asleep, woke me up with a sudden and inevitable "Ow! Motherfucker!" And it was still more enjoyable than anything on the 200+ channels of drivel the idiot box has to offer. Merry fucking <i>Christ's Mass</i>. </span></div>
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<span style="color: red;">Here's some lovely Punk sounds for your auditory stimulation: <a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=vx3kgKTX4Y8">youtube.com/watch?v=vx3kgKTX4Y8</a> Wake up, Donnie! An out of place disembodied jet engine is about to come crashing thru the roof and squish you like a roach... </span></div>
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<span style="color: red;">I think I'll go outside now and smoke a bowl of Frootloops.</span></div>
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Crazy Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554733821659283049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248197521548752204.post-57753209008732572832017-12-24T08:09:00.001-08:002017-12-24T08:09:56.424-08:00Pardon my French...<span style="color: #93c47d;">Scuse me... Pardon me... Gotta shit! commin thru....</span><br />
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<span style="color: #93c47d;">Now then. Got my laptop, got my mousepad, right. Alright. I guess I'm-a rant about the French language again, or the strangeness of the pronunciation upon my American ears, or the mental processing thereof, or something like that. Dada language, avant garde ear crack...</span></div>
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<span style="color: #93c47d;">...Now, how do they get "boozh-wah" out of bourgeois? Bourgeois is almost Boy George, if you just turn the vowel sounds around. For some reason French has always sounded pretentious to me, as though they were looking down snooty noses at everyone else on the planet, calling us all swine simply by their words, which incidentally have nothing whatsoever to do with swine, or very little, unless you're talking about <i>porc.</i> And, while I do enjoy a nice pulled pork samitch, that is not the subject of the current rant. I never had much of a taste for pretentious people. I grew up in Pittsburgh in the 60s and 70s, where we pronounce (some) French words the way they're spelled, such as Dubois and Versailles, while others, such as Duquesne, are almost impossible to pronounce in such manner, so they roll off the tongue in the best way we can muster. Now it's easy to say "Doob-wah" and "Vair-sye", but not when reading them the way they're spelled. That takes a cunning linguist... </span></div>
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<span style="color: #93c47d;">What really irks me is when people bastardize American English with a phony Frenchitized mispronunciation, such as when someone says "Awnvelope" for envelope. The root of envelope is clearly envelop, as envelopes envelop your mail, so that nebby-ass folks can't stick their noses into your private business. But folks see a word that starts with en, and automatically think it's French, and then do their piss-poor best to pronounce it as such. Stop doing that. It makes you look stupid. Part of the problem, I reckon, is schoolteachers who themselves had a substandard education. Maybe they should've spent more time outside with the burnouts from the smokepit, and less time focusing on trivial bullshit, such as trying to impress others with their bourgeois.... Fuck if I know. I was doing my personal best to become the biggest burnout I could be. But somehow I can't help but wonder about some shit. ..I know about Dada Art, Dada Music, the whole daggone Dada Movement... But there's one thing, one concept I don't think they completely grasp, and that is this: Dada Reality. We live in a ludicrous society, the very existence of which defies logic and reason. Example: How can <i>anyone</i> justify being a billionaire when there are little innocent kids starving somewhere on our planet? (They can't. Oh, they can make vain and feeble attempts to justify it to themselves, but to justify the unjust is impossible.) Look, man. We all went to kindergarden. We all learned to share, way back when we were little innocent kids ourselves, but somehow, by the time we got to high school, most of us had long forgotten this extremely important and invaluable lesson. It got pushed out and replaced by shallow self importance. We live in a shallow, Narcissistic society, where the Hollywood Insider and Lifestyles of the Materialistic rich bastards take precedence over anything which might appear negative, unless, of course, when it's some tragic event they can sensationalize, and/or use as a tool to manipulate public opinion. Cock sucking rat bastards. (No offense to gay folks and chickenheads intended, simply a figure of speech.) Ludicrous isn't a strong enough word to describe it, it's like ludicrous is standing just short of first base, not quite touching, and I need a word that's leading off third, waiting to steal home. That word, for all intent and purpose at the moment, is <i>Dada.</i> We live in a <i>Dada Reality.</i> That red pill is simply a metaphor, there is no actual pill. All those (Hundreds? Thousands?) little pieces of blotter paper dipped in lysergic saur diethylamide that I used to eat are metaphors too. I never metaphor I didn't like. But, I mean, come the fuck on, man! Donald motherfucking Trump as <i>president, </i>for fuck sake??! Have we all completely lost our shit? Or is it simply the logical progression of illogic? It was the <i>Great Hollywood Election,</i> broadcast live right into your livingrooms thru the coaxial dick that permanently fucks your television right in the pussy. It was so blatantly scripted as to rival "reality" teevee. How in the purple polkadotted fuck don't people see this? It's so fuckin obvious it smacks you in the face like a cold dead trout, <i>"Whap!!"</i> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"> ....But I digress...</span></div>
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<span style="color: #93c47d;">I've been listening to Captain Beefheart's Trout Mask Replica.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #93c47d;">It's muhfuttin Xmas eve again. To my Christian friends: Merry Christmas. To my Hindu friends: Hare Krishna. To my Jewish friends, happy Hanukkah. To my Muslim friends: Don't worry, I didn't forget yall, just don't expect me to fast with you next Ramadan out of some misplaced attempt at solidarity, I did that once, mostly to prove to myself that I could do it, no offense intended, my Spiritual journey keeps following the next diverging path. To my Athiest friends: Happy December 24th, just another day, etc. And to my Pagan friends: We all had a good Solstice. To anyone else who doesn't fit neatly into any preconceived box: :) Rejoice in the knowledge that for the moment you are still inhaling oxygen. Peace, yall. I'm outta here.</span></div>
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</span><span style="color: #93c47d;"></span><span style="color: #93c47d;"></span><span style="color: #93c47d;"></span><i></i><i></i><span style="color: #93c47d;"></span><i></i><i></i><i></i><i></i><i></i><i></i><i></i><i></i><i></i><i></i><i></i><i></i><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"></span><span style="color: #93c47d;"></span><br />Crazy Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554733821659283049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248197521548752204.post-86356108433819783072017-12-20T13:41:00.001-08:002017-12-20T13:41:10.471-08:00Oops, I farted. Now what? Blog... Blog like a madman.<span style="color: cyan;">By the way, this post has absolutely nothing to do with farts or farting... Well, ok, maybe a little...</span><br />
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc;">I realized something today: The world doesn't stop spinning simply because you need a li'l break from it. People don't put their lives on hold just because you need to take it out of gear and put the parking brake on for a minute. Wow! Day-umn. Who'd've thunk? Not me, at least not until I thunk it. I just needed a few days sabbatical from the fast-paced world of construction and building maintenance, so's I can get my shit straight before the upcoming bigass 16-week job that's coming up. Did I mention that it's upcoming? (Asshat!) Well, as it turns out, just because I ask for a few days, it doesn't mean that everything else stops happening. Dogs & cats still need to eat and drink and poop and piss... Food still needs to occupy the fridge. Dwindling cigarette supplies still need to be re-upped. Snot still issues forth from one's nostril holes, and farts still issue forth from one's asshole... </span></div>
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<span style="color: yellow;">There's the fart part.</span></div>
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<span style="color: orange;">(Side note: Dukey is easier to get off your boot than pookie. Dukey washes off. Pookie requires the use of gasoline, or mineral spirits, or acetone, or naptha... Some kinda solvent.)</span></div>
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<span style="color: lime;">Yellow and blue make green. Yay. At least that hasn't changed. Don't let Trump get his grubby paws on it, or it might start making covfefe, whatever in the hell that is. But I digress.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #007670;">Blue is the color of my favorite coffee cup. Blue is the color of my favorite twisty lightbulb. And blue is the color of my Washburn bass. Maybe I'll plug it in and jam now. ...Is anyone even reading this fuckin blog? Well... That's a deep subject. ...Oh, and by the way, I farted.</span></div>
<span style="color: lime;"></span><br />Crazy Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554733821659283049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248197521548752204.post-64244263149946373022017-03-29T19:33:00.001-07:002017-03-29T19:33:08.181-07:00I'm Fuckin Human. We're All Fuckin Human.<span style="color: #cccccc;">So... You're born into this world. If you're fortunate, you're born into a loving family. Some are not. Either way, you are exposed to the immediate environment around you. You grow and learn. They expose you to the television. Some parents use it as a babysitter. When I was a child it was Romper Room, Mister Rogers' Neighborhood, Sesame Street, The Electric Company, and Zoom, interspersed with Loony Toons, Pink Panther, and Tom & Jerry. Now they get Teletubbies and Barney, I think, or has that changed? ... The Wiggles, that's right... They're creepy. They creep me out.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">Little kids are like sponges, man. They absorb <i>everything.</i> Even the shit you might think they don't. If Mommy is sucking somebody's dick in the house, and the kids are in the house, trust me, they know about it.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">If Daddy is banging the babysitter, they know about it.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">If somebody is shooting dope, they know about it.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">Daddy beating the shit out of Mommy, (or vice-versa)... </span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">Booze, drunks all thru the house, that shit they see and interact with, it all depends on the environment, which itself depends on the parents, neighbors, friends, relatives, neighborhood, etc.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">Middle class kids growing up in the burbs might only encounter that behavior on weekends, or not at all. Or, Mommy might be a meth whore. You never know.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">Rich motherfuckers' kids in big fancy houses tend to be little narcissists, but they are also prone to depression, among other issues.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc;">My parents both grew up in row houses in the city of Monessen, PA. I grew up in a brick house in Pitsburgh, a block down the hill from a main drag with stores. It wasn't a row house, it had a yard, and there was a vacant lot next door, with a big maple tree in it, that we all kinda shared, us and the immediate neighbors. It was a decent sized house, not a mansion by any imagining, but it accommodated my parents, Grandma, my two brothers, and me. I grew up in the late 60s, 70s, & 80s. (I was born in 65, I was 18 in 83. Do the math) It wasn't a bad neighborhood. If there was criminal activity, it was usually me or my brothers and our friends committing it. It wasn't the inner city ghetto, but it wasn't the burbs either. My parents both went to college, my mom went first, my dad went after he came back from the war, and they both worked office jobs downtown. She was a secretary, and he was an accountant. We weren't dirt-poor, but we were far from rich. Mom didn't work for a few years when I was a little kid, so Dad must've brought in enough, but he worked all the time, and went out after supper almost every night. He died when I was 13. Mom went back to work shortly thereafter, but she couldn't afford the taxes on the house, and had to sell it and move into an apartment in a big complex. After getting in trouble several times and going to juvey, getting kicked out of a few different schools, and running away to other states twice, I dropped out of school and got my GED, and moved out when I was 18. That's the basic outline of my environment growing up.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">So. .. You come into this world a helpless wiggling thing that must be cared for, there must be a tit for you immediately, you must be mothered, lest you perish. But from toddler on, you learn from your environment, whatever it may be. My parents didn't buy me everything I wanted, so I learned how to steal it instead. My uncle gave me beer when I was eight, and I liked it. My Grandma gave me coffee, and then her Valium, when I was five, and I liked that too. I don't blame them. I loved them both.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc;">The school said I had an extremely high IQ in the 4th grade. They didn't realize that I had an aptitude for theft and vandalism. They soon found out that I had a bad attitude towards "authority" and was stubborn and headstrong and reckless and bored. Basically, I was a mean little fuck that liked to break into cars and steal things and break things. With a MENSA-level IQ...</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"> Couple that with the reputation of two older brothers preceding me, and by the time I got to 6th grade they went, "Here's another one. Watch him." ... Shit got blamed on me that I had nothing to do with. But, to balance it out, I did a lot of shit that I didn't get busted for.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc;">So what's the explanation? Am I a product of my environment? Or am I just a bad human being?</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;">My daughter would tell you that I'm a good human being. My friends would say the same. I work. I pay bills. I wash my ass. I don't drink alcohol, or shoot dope, or smoke crack or meth, or snort anything, or pop pills anymore. I smoke weed. It's all I need. It's my antidepressant and my anger-manage-mints. It keeps me from wanting to shoot heroin.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc;">I haven't stolen anything in a minute either. I eat meat, but I love aminals. Humans <i>are</i> aminals, though most refuse to acknowledge it. I hate rules and regulations, I feel like it's my mission to be the thorn in "authority's" side. I'm like Don Qixote, but the windmills I tilt at are the pillars of society. I would see the international banking cartel toppled and trampled underfoot. I would see the ground stained with the blood of the illuminati. I would see the rise of the common man, true democracy, one individual=one vote, with a 2/3 majority needed to ratify all important decisions. No politics or politicians needed. Every decision is weighed by an informed public. I would see the end of the idea of any form of racial or religious superiority. I would see the end of the American class system, wherein the suits view themselves as somehow superior to those of us who actually work for a living. I would see it abolished for good. Nobody's better than anybody else. We're all fuckin human.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>Crazy Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554733821659283049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248197521548752204.post-34657563635526524872017-03-29T13:26:00.000-07:002017-03-29T13:26:52.488-07:00Does Anybody Want To Know This? 0.0<span style="color: lime;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Filed under the "Does Anybody Want To Know This?" category:</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: lime;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"> I just dropped a 14" X 2" monstrosity of a deuce.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: lime;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">The one end of it was sticking up out of the water, stinking.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: lime;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"> Dog jenkem.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: lime;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">I thought it was going to take two or three cups of hot water added to the flush to force it down the pipe, but it slid right down on the first cup. Must've been really greasy. That would explain how it was able to poop right out of my asshole all at once like that. I shoulda took a picture. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: lime;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"> But anyway...</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: lime;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"> the bathroom stunk,</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: lime;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"> Like shit and</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: lime;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"> ass funk.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: lime;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">Facepalming yet?</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: lime;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">I left the fan running...</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: lime;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"> </span></span></span>Crazy Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554733821659283049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248197521548752204.post-39720396818099789382017-03-28T16:24:00.000-07:002017-03-28T16:24:25.032-07:00Cat Viscosity Theory<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Ever seen a melting cat? I don't mean when you're tripping, either. I mean a melting cat.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> I mean like this:</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM6eMGm9TpPjWXn0qjvrhARAMoR6syEzvxaHNKZzw_5kp_59STUoqllugpzqZQIQBZm5bA047nSM3z56KRN0W_stXmkcwqTbZ5z9wrz-NtJtdUmsM2LyVG8VqIefRUrVEL47CsB40LWH8/s1600/funny-cat-pictures-lolcats-be-careful-on-hot-summer-days-note-that-the-melting-point-of-cats-is-about-degrees.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM6eMGm9TpPjWXn0qjvrhARAMoR6syEzvxaHNKZzw_5kp_59STUoqllugpzqZQIQBZm5bA047nSM3z56KRN0W_stXmkcwqTbZ5z9wrz-NtJtdUmsM2LyVG8VqIefRUrVEL47CsB40LWH8/s320/funny-cat-pictures-lolcats-be-careful-on-hot-summer-days-note-that-the-melting-point-of-cats-is-about-degrees.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Cats are viscous. The way they move. Like they're made of a non-newtonian fluid. Example:<br /><br /> </span></span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sc9CBXYeCAo" target="_blank">Slow motion cat...</a><br />
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<span style="color: red;">See What I'm Talking about?</span></div>
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<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Liquid cat.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">See, one could theorize that cats are in a semi-flux between a solid and a liquid. There's a cat melted on top of the cable box right now. But the webcam's not connected. Sorry, no pic.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">But cats melt into/onto things. Ever had a cat melt into your lap? And you absentmindedly pet him with one hand while you mouse with the other hand. And you forget he's there. And then he gets up...</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And you go "Aaaaagh!" "Fuck!" ..."Why?!"</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Ever had that happen?</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Of course," you say, "Hasn't everybody?" </span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">...No?</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Never happened? Ever?</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Well what a sad sorry existence you must be having. I pity you.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> And people say sarcasm doesn't translate well on the internet.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> I have three packs of smokes open at the same time. It makes <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">perfect sense, because I'm trying not to smok<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">e</span> as much.</span> o_O</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> There's a pack of Winstons, a <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">pack of Pall Malls, and a pack of Kamel Reds. <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">When I smoke one, I smoke it out of the top pack, then I rotate that pack to the bottom. That way I think about how many I smoke.</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Sometimes I butt it out halfway and light it back up later. Some people would call this crass. Those people didn't grow up in my neighborhood. <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">They probably wouldn't run into me at work either, unless I was installing a <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">new desk or cabinets in their office<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> Neighbor with a flat shovel scraping up a <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">pile of dogshit from <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">off the street in front of his house. That's what I see out my window. Beats what I used to see out my window a few places ago, nine, maybe ten years back, I'd reckon. Crack dealers on the corner... Used dopeworx in the gutter by the curb... You can probably still find that shit there. And the same old assholes on the same old bar stools<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">, talking about the same old shit.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> Miles away from anywhere... Lost in thought, with a thousand yard stare... I'm the long-haired dude in the corner, under the television. I'm minding my business, drinking my shots and beers. But I'm <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">about fixing to be a loudmouth fuck in a minute, because some jago<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ff just said something ignorant about my favorite ba<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">nd.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> ...Don't miss it.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> Nobody's reading this fuckin blog anyways.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> Right?</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
Crazy Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554733821659283049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248197521548752204.post-54753382670705261872017-01-09T05:56:00.000-08:002017-01-09T05:56:48.115-08:00Shishka Bob, Soap soup, and Allen Dulles<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">Good morning,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">Motherfuckers.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">Last night at 2:30 am in the morning</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">I stopped at McDeath on my way home.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">The drive-thru speaker wasn't working.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">I had to pull up and knock on the window.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">Two fillets of fish later,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">I'm sitting in the parking lot,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">eating my breaded fish squares,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">and I look across the way,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">and there's this place called Flame Kabob.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">And I thunk about shishkabobs.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">Not the kind you get in a fancy Greek restaurant.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">Those are shsh kababs.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">I'm talking about what people call city chicken.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">Little cubes of pork,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">breaded with shake-n-bake,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">skewered on a stick.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">When I was a kid</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">that's what we called shsishabobs.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">I wouldn't pick them as a first choice</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">or a second choice.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">For me they conjure up vivid mental images</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">of dry, overdone meat</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">with nasty breading on it,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">and Grandma (God bless her, may she rest in peace)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">washing the little wood sticks</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">to use over (& over) again.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">['scuse me while I puke up my coffee.]</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">When your coffee tastes like pencil shavings</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">It might be indicative</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">of the fact</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">that</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">It sat in the pot all night</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">until you heated it up</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">at the crack of dawn.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">Once upon a moment</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">I had a button that said</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">"I'm so horny, the crack of Dawn isn't safe."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">I gave it to a girl named Dawn.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">Imagine that.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">Who'd've thunk?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">So anyways...</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">I'm sitting there</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">in Chantilly Virginia</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">over near Dulles Airport</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">looking at a sign that said Flame Kabob,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">and I thought</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">"Who the fuck is Shishka Bob?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">Maybe he was Allen Dulles</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">incognito.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">Allen Dulles,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">the man JFK fired,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">who was later appointed to lead the Warren Commission.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">Hmmm...</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">No conflict of interest there, buddies...</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">Just like so many things about government</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">It's soap soup.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">They sell it to you as a nutritious bowl of slop,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">but it's really made out of soap,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">and it tastes accordingly.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">Not quite as disgusting as "Woofies."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">Never heard of woofies?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">They're chocolate-covered dog turds.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">Looks like chocolate on the outside,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">but bite into one and you find out it ain't</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">what you thought it was.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">Just like everything the government says or does.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">So how much stolen tax money does Uncle Sam</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">spend per anum</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">on turd polish?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">They scrub that motherfucker,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">buff it to a high gloss,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">package it up real pretty,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">false advertize the fuckin hell out of it,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">and sell it to you at a premium.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">And motherfuckers just gobble it up.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">...Like it was Mayor McCheese.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">What a fuckin life.</span></div>
Crazy Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554733821659283049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248197521548752204.post-50912277897035652782016-12-19T11:58:00.000-08:002016-12-19T11:58:34.450-08:00"I Don't Know..."<span style="color: #76a5af;">Who is the idiot that first said I don't know isn't an answer? If you don't know the answer to the question, then it's the only honest answer. Ask a roomful of people how the electricity gets from one end of the wire to the other. Unless you're in a whole room full of electricians, the obvious answer, from everybody in the room, should be "I don't know." But it <i>won't </i>be. Instead, you'll get a lot of people giving their uneducated <i>opinion</i> of how they think it works. "The electrons jump from atom to atom..." (Ok then, smartass, why is copper a better conductor than steel?) The truth is, unless you've read a detailed explanation, and <i>comprehended</i> it, or had it explained to you in a manner you can understand, then you have no fuckin idea! The correct answer would be, "I don't know."</span><br />
<span style="color: #76a5af;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #76a5af;">A girl asked me a question one time, I don't remember what it was, but we were in the middle of an argument, so it was likely an argumentative question, but anyway, I answered her, "I don't know." To which she replied, "I don't know isn't an answer!" ... ... Well, yes... It damn well certainly is. Not only that, but it's the <i>only</i> correct answer, because I don't fuckin know. What part of I don't know don't you understand? I don't know means I don't know. (Women just love it when you throw their own logic back at them.) o_O She continued to insist that I actually knew the answer that she wanted to hear, whatever that might've been, and that I was fucking with her. Right about then I just tuned her out, so the rest of her end of the argument might as well have been, "Blah. Blah blah blah, blah blah..."</span><br />
<span style="color: #76a5af;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #76a5af;">Whatever. She was probably trying to blame me for all her problems, not wanting to admit that she was wrong, that whatever it was was her own fault, et cetera, since nobody wants to admit that they were wrong in the heat of a verbal battle. She's human. She was young. She probably thought she knows everything about everything, and is infallible. That, and she was high at the time.</span><br />
<span style="color: #76a5af;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #76a5af;">So what's the fuckin point, you might ask?</span><br />
<span style="color: #76a5af;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #76a5af;"> ...Wait for it...</span><br />
<span style="color: #76a5af;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #76a5af;"><b><i>I don't know!</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #76a5af;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
<span style="color: #76a5af;">But the whole insisting that I don't know isn't an answer sounds suspiciously like something somebody's mother said to them when they were a kid, and it stuck with them. It makes about as much sense as other 'Mommyisms' such as, "Do as I say, not as I do." or "Because I said so." So how does a nonsense statement like this continue to survive? A quick google search will give you links to numerous pages concerning this topic. Three of those are from Reddit, (Why is "I don't know." not an answer) The Muse, (What leaders say when they don't know the answer, What to say instead of I don't know) and Forbes magazine (Five alternatives to saying I don't know.) People must really hate to admit they don't know something. I mean, nobody wants to look stupid, right? But for it to become so pervasive it must've been some societally "respectable" douchebag, like a judge or a politician or some other suit that said it. Forbes is a magazine for suits, isn't it? Most suits tend to be windbags who think they are experts on everything; They got a degree, (Which only means that they sat in a stuffy classroom being bored to death and daydreaming out the window for a few years longer than you did,) they wear ties and sit behind desks pushing paper, and can't you just tell how <i>important</i> they are by the car they drive and the cut of their suit?! {These are the douchebags that cut you off in traffic in their Lexuses and BMWs.} How the fuck can someone go to four years of college, get a piece of paper for it, and still be a clueless moron?</span><br />
<span style="color: #76a5af;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #76a5af;"><i>I don't know.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #76a5af;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #76a5af;">If you don't know how to change a tire or a spark plug or your own oil, if you don't know the difference between you're & your, there, they're, & their, where, wear, & were, etc. If you don't comprehend that you are human, that you are not magically <i>better</i> than others just because your parents are rich, or your skin is a different shade of human than theirs, or your brand of religion is different than theirs, you shouldn't even graduate high school, let alone college.</span><br />
<span style="color: #76a5af;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #76a5af;"><i>But, this is America in 2016. Welcome to idiocracy gone wild.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #76a5af;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #76a5af;">And who gives a fuck what "leaders" say? They mostly talk out the side of their faces anyway. Whether it be politics as usual, legalese, banker babble, scientific jargon, etc. They all speak their own language exclusive to their profession, and they tend to look down their noses at everybody they don't consider to be their peers. (Which is precisely why I look down my nose at them, they've earned my contempt by their actions.) Granted, every trade has its own particular set of skills, and its own lingo, but one trade is not any better or worse than any other, though some folks are better or worse at one particular thing. Why does the janitor get paid the least when he or she does the nastiest job? Why do executives get paid the most when they do the least work? That's ass backwards. I have the skills to build an entire house from the ground up, dig the hole, pour the footer, lay the foundation, frame it, wire it, plumb it, drywall it, paint it, install windows and doors, brick up the outside, and put a roof on it. So why does some suit who drives a desk for a living and never does any actual work get paid more than me? Can anyone explain that satisfactorily? I didn't think so. Paying suits more only serves to artificially inflate their egos so that they erroneously believe that they are more important than those of us who actually work for a living. Placing them in positions of so-called "authority" over others only serves to give them delusions of grandeur.</span><br />
<span style="color: #76a5af;">News flash - they take stinky shits just like everyone else. </span><br />
<span style="color: #76a5af;">They can find themselves drunk and wallowing in a shit-filled ditch just as easily as you or I can. And one day their corporeal bodies will die and rot. </span><br />
<span style="color: #76a5af;">In short, they're human, no better, no worse, but equal.</span><br />
<span style="color: #76a5af;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #76a5af;">See, I learned early on to question "authority." I could see right thru their bullshit. They aren't gods. They're mortal, fallible, and imperfect humans, just like you and me. They have no actual authority over anyone. When I was a kid they tried to force me to obey, they tried to make me fit into their conformist mold, so I resolved to push back with equal or greater force, or in the event of an inability to push back for whatever reason, to get even. I spent my formative years mostly getting even in whatever way I could. Vandalism, theft, and whatever means of rebellion I could muster. Why? Mostly because my dad was one of those obedient tax-slaves who does what he's told without question, and then takes his resentments over it home with him and abuses his family. He was one of those assholes who says, "You do as I say, because I say so." (And my immediate response to that attitude is, "Fuck you. I'm gonna do the exact opposite just to spite you and prove you wrong, and flip you the finger while doing it, because I can, because fuck you.")</span><br />
<span style="color: #76a5af;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #76a5af;">In order for one to have any hope of attaining wisdom and understanding, one must question <i>everything.</i> Question existence, question religion, and especially, question what right any individual or group thereof thinks they have to give orders, to oppress others, to impose their will and their opinions upon any other individual or group thereof. [Spoiler Alert: <i>They don't.</i>]</span><br />
<span style="color: #76a5af;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #76a5af;">Picture being in a courtroom, on the stand, and the persecutor (Yes, I meant <i>persecutor</i> rather than prosecutor, because it is a more accurate term.) asks you a question you don't know the answer to. What do you say? "I don't know." And if the pudgy judgy tells you to answer the question or be held in contempt, you inform him that you already answered the question correctly and honestly, and if he doesn't like it then he can lump it, and you find him utterly contemptible as well. Might be a nice touch as they're dragging you off to jail for refusing to be intimidated if you tell him to go take a flying fuck at a rolling doughnut, and then spit in his general direction.</span><br />
<span style="color: #76a5af;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #76a5af;">Therein lies the underlying issue at hand here: Intimidation. I refuse to be intimidated. I'm a dissident. I'm an anarchist. I refuse to recognize any so-called "authority." They can abuse me, imprison me, even kill me, but they can't make me obey. They can't take my pride and dignity from me. I'll spit in their faces with my dying breath, if necessary. And that's not to say that I have no humility, I do. I realize that I'm human, same as everyone else, and therefore equal. I would run into a burning building to save an innocent child, with no regard for my own safety. Not to try to be a hero, but because it's the right thing to do. I'll make sure that the innocent around me have all eaten before I feed my own face. If everyone felt this way, we'd all be better individuals.</span><br />
<span style="color: #76a5af;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #76a5af;">I can't say whether or not I would fall on a grenade to save my enemy, because that situation hasn't happened yet, and it probably won't, therefore.... <b><i><u>I Don't Know.</u></i></b></span>Crazy Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554733821659283049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248197521548752204.post-44954956367584653652016-12-11T14:04:00.000-08:002016-12-11T14:04:59.595-08:00Pee pot smasher / Tooth gnasher<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">Pee pot smasher</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">Tooth gnasher</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">Grab a chunk and run past her</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">Two lame mules</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">Empty of promise</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">Run for cover</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">Terrible tunnles</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">Steel teeth of death</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">Bone crushing motion</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">No rabbit left to witness</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">The tall grass prairie</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">Mower</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">All alone</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">Toothless Puma</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">Two bits</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">Won't buy</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">A cup of dinner</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">But it's nice</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">To be loved</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">The ocean is grey</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">The ocean is grey</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">All fall down and</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">Break the monotony</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">Two bells tolled</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">Shattered windows</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">Pieces of what seems</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">Bag of smithereens</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">All the way to Houston</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">For a sack</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">Of golden dreams</span></div>
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<span style="color: #999999;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">Chocolate covered</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #999999;">Coffee beans</span></div>
Crazy Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554733821659283049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248197521548752204.post-20686106000514239222016-09-30T13:56:00.001-07:002016-09-30T13:56:22.612-07:00Where Did My Fuckin Videos Go?!<span style="color: red;">I took four or five videos with my phone. I plugged the phone into my computer, running windows 8. I proceeded to make a new folder, name it, and cut/paste the videos from the phone to the new folder. I go to look for the folder, and it's gone.</span><br />
<span style="color: red;"></span><br />
<span style="color: red;">What the fuck?!</span>Crazy Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554733821659283049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248197521548752204.post-27053871049927053382016-09-17T12:42:00.000-07:002016-09-17T12:42:28.476-07:00Coffee... Mmmm, coffee... (And other profound insights...)<span style="color: #cccccc;">I haven't blogged in quite awhile. I haven't barfed in quite awhile either, but that's another story. Mmm, I dig coffee. This morning it's a mixture of Starbux Sumatra ground on top of some Maxwell House Master Blend. (There's a free plug for you Maxwell House, can I have some free coffe?) ...This morning it's 2:12 in the afternoon, because I work nights right now, so this is my morning. But I digress. </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #a2c4c9;">Anyways, I was reading about Frank Lloyd Wright's Broadacre City, his dream project, which never came to fruition. If it had, it would've been his magnum opus, his crowning achievement. It also would've turned much of the north American continent into what basically amounts to urban and suburban sprawl. Of course, that very thing has been happening at an alarming rate anyway, since at least 1980, and probably a lot longer. I loathe sprawl. A lot of beautiful natural woods has been destroyed to accommodate preplanned yuppy suburbia and strip malls. Access to some of the best fishing holes has been usurped in favor of bicycle trails. To me, this underlines and illustrates the artificial plastic disposable nature of modern western society. Just destroy the natural and yuppify everything into one gigantic golf course. Wright's ideal wouldn't have been any better.</span><br />
<span style="color: #a2c4c9;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #a2c4c9;">I have admired Fallingwater since I first saw it, the way it tries to blend in with the surrounding land, rather than intrude upon it, but it does intrude, however subtly. I'm beginning to view Wright more like Gary Cooper's character from Ayn Rand's <em>The Fountainhead.</em> I'm no architect, but if given the chance, I would design society to exist in harmony with the natural world. There needs to be open spaces. There should be access for the wildlife to get from one side of the highway to the other, without becoming road-pizza. Remember, the deer and other critters aren't in your backyard, you're in theirs. They were here first. Couldn't roads be built with tunnels underneath for the critters, and fences along the edges to keep them off? Couldn't cities and communities be designed to do minimal damage to the environment? I think they could. I think man is haughty and self-important, attempting to corral and control nature rather than trying to coexist with it, or to exist within it. Critters don't belong in zoos, they are free beings, who deserve freedom to range. If humankind can't peacefully exist within nature, then maybe it is we who belong in zoos.</span><br />
<span style="color: #a2c4c9;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #a2c4c9;">I believe that we were charged with a solemn duty to be the caretakers of this planet, and that we have thus far failed miserably at it. We are not meant to exploit and abuse, these ideas are not natural, they seem very foreign to me. Some outside influence has fucked with our thinking. I'm not suggesting any cockamamey L Ron Hubbard nonsense, but just think about it for a minute. Detach yourselves from your iPhones and your televisions, put down the xbox controller, and meditate. Think about <em>The Matrix,</em> think about the Mandela effect, think about CERN, think about <em>Brave New World...</em> During the Pleistocene Epoch, humanity existed within nature. Then something changed. After the glaciers receded, people in the old world began to view themselves as somehow <em>above </em>nature, rather than as a part of it. People here on Turtle Island continued to live in harmony with nature for the most part. Of course, we don't know the whole story, because it has been intentionally erased, the truth hidden from us by <em>someone,</em> for whatever reason(s). Consider HG Wells' <em>The Time Machine.</em> The Eloi lived above ground, they were largely innocent, while the sinister and diabolical Morlock lived in subterranean tunnels. The Morlock came out at night to prey on the Eloi, much as humans prey on cows. Now, consider David Paulides <em>Missing 411.</em> What, pray tell, is preying on humans? What if the Morlock found a way to shapeshift and make themselves resemble the Eloi, or even to interbreed with them while retaining their predatory nature, and to construct a (global?) society based upon hierarchy, wherein they would be the <em>elite,</em> whilst keeping the livestock stupid and docile and easily manipulated... (Starting to resemble anything? Making y'all <em>think,</em> at least, ain't it) </span><br />
<span style="color: #a2c4c9;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #a2c4c9;">I don't know, man. I'm still trying to figure it all out. Writing it helps me to contemplate, and if anyone reads this blog, maybe they will contemplate things as well. Meditation and contemplation beat the fuckin dogpiss out of playing videogames, or watching mindless drivel on the idiot-box, or drinking whiskey, or shooting dope, or smoking crack or meth, or munching handfuls of Xanax... Well, for me they do. Y'all make up your <em>own</em> minds.</span>Crazy Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554733821659283049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248197521548752204.post-35266229944448110712016-01-25T18:13:00.000-08:002016-01-25T18:13:39.004-08:00Get Your Fucking Paws Off Me, You Damn Dirty Fascist<span style="color: #f9cb9c;">Get your stinking paws off of me, you damn dirty ape! Them apes fucked with Judah Ben Moses In Space! Them apes wasn't too bright. Well, a few of them were. But not Claude Akins, he was just mean. Anyways... </span><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">What if it was like that, only <em>we're the apes?</em> Humans, homo sapiens sapiens, modern man, yeah, what if we took over after the gods went home? We were bred from the hominids, and the gods. We were bred again from the Neanderthals and Denisovans, and the demigods, or Nephilim, or whatever you choose to call them. Imagine for a minute, if you will, mad scientists working in some covert government lab somewhere. They take some human DNA and some ape DNA, they splice and they play. Their objective is to create a race of workers, intelligent enough to follow directions, but stupid enough to do it without question. And strong enough to do heavy work. Stronger than we are... Now imagine this is what the gods did, how they made us millions of years ago. DNA mixing in a blender, spitting out little manlings and womanlings. Now, imagine we rebelled and killed them, or they died off by some other means, or they left in a hurry to escape something. For whatever reason, the gods went away. <span style="color: #f9cb9c;">Maybe we rose up and killed them. Maybe they killed each other. </span><span style="color: #e06666;">Whatever the case, they went wherever they went. Nobody is left from then to tell us the real story. We ignore the ancient stories, we reject them as fantasy mythos. But whatever happened...</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ffe599;">We found ourselves suddenly free to roam in a paradise, but we had competition, the very Neanderthals, Denisovans, Cro-Magnons, etc. that were our ancestors. We had to drive them off the best hunting grounds, lest we starve. </span><span style="color: #9fc5e8;">But the gods left us naïve and innocent. They took their vast storehouse of knowledge with them. Man does not know himself. </span><span style="color: #ea9999;">We had to learn from trial & error. We had to learn how to survive. </span><span style="color: #b4a7d6;">Messengers came among us. They taught us things. How to fish, how to make tools... Who were these messengers? Who the fuck knows? Maybe they were gods who stayed behind to watch over us, maybe not. They taught us of wheels, they taught us of wind and waves... In many places they were worshiped as gods. They built great cities. (Or were the cities built before the gods left? Again, who knows?) </span><span style="color: #a2c4c9;">Nobody lives today who lived then, or if we do, we've long forgotten. </span><span style="color: #ea9999;">DNA. </span><span style="color: #d5a6bd;">We need to learn how to access our genetic memory.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;">Get your long spindly fingers off me, you damn dirty alien! </span><span style="color: cyan;">Nothing is what it seems. </span><span style="color: #9fc5e8;">Scratch the surface. Dig down a few feet. See what you dig up. </span><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">Everything's there. Right wherever you put it.</span>Crazy Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554733821659283049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248197521548752204.post-80001631827186807982016-01-25T16:59:00.001-08:002016-01-25T16:59:04.957-08:00Doo Doo Theory {Shit Theory, Fecal Matter Theory, Etc.}<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"> One time a bunch of us were hanging out at Shorty's Bar, getting fucked up. We had been fishing. We were rowdy, talking loudly, and there was a guy by himself at the end of the bar, by the television. He was watching the news. Suddenly he yelled up at the tv, "<em>It's all shit!" "It's all fuckin shit!"</em> Everybody looked over, but my buddy Howie went over to him and said, "Sir, I couldn't agree more, it's all shit!" ...and raised his glass. The guy bought him a shot and a beer. Then he started buying rounds for everybody. It turns out he was the local Justice Of The Peace. You know, the guy in the robe that sentences people for public drunkenness and petty thefts all day. It's <em>all</em> shit.</span><br />
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"> So the theory is then, that it's all shit. Everything is shit. That's it, Fort Pitt. Every molecule, every atom, except the ones in space, and the ones very deep in the ground, has been a part of something's fecal matter at some point in time. Your atoms, my atoms, dog atoms, cat atoms, cockroach atoms... Water molecules... Leptons, Muons, and Quarks, oh my! And the rare & elusive Higgs Boson, even... Maybe. All has passed thru something or other's digestive system at some point. It's just a chemical reaction. It's all a process. Everything is shit.</span><br />
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"> I made shit in a plastic bag and tied it up and threw it in the trash can on more than one occasion. Ain't nothing but a thing. Folks throw poopy diapers in the trash all the time, baby shit, adult shit, what's the difference? Shit's shit. Ain't it? Now I'll admit, one place I lived at, I had no running water, so shitting in a bag was a routine thing, and pissing in jars, coffee cans, buckets, whatever. Sometimes it was crap in a bucket, piss in the bucket, take the bucket out to the railroad tracks and dump it. And I had a girl that would stay over sometimes. She wouldn't shit in a bag. She shit on the side of the house, and under the trestle. Once I lived in this place where they cut the utilities off. We ran a hose from next door, til they rented it out. Then we shit both toilets full to capacity, and moved on to shitting in the backyard. That's what you do when you're dirt poor and on drugs. Fucks given: Nada.</span><br />
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"> So I like to shit at home, where my ass feels comfortable, the toilet seat knows my ass by name, and the occasional cat audience... But sometimes I'm at work, and I gotta go shit in the woods. You gotta do what you gotta do. Once I shit in a plastic flower pot behind a bush next to a house, then I put the pot in a trash bag and it went on the truck with the rest of the trash. Bye. Nobody need be the wiser. Not that long ago I had to shit bad. I had to go down over a hill, down a ravine, to the stream, to get out of visual range of houses. When I shit, it was projectile explosive diarrhea. ...With a big gas bomb fart propelling it. It blasted the rocks and into the nice pretty little stream. That right there is why I always grab extra napkins from Starbux. Gotta do what you gotta do. It is what it is. It's all shit. </span><br />
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"> </span><br />
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"> So, you shit, it goes down the sewer, it goes to the shit plant to get processed, and gets made into fertilizer, which someone uses to grow tomatoes, which get eaten and turned back into shit. Or you shit outside, something eats it, something else eats that, on up the food chain. Eventually it goes back to shit again. Voila. Everything is shit.</span>Crazy Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554733821659283049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248197521548752204.post-74161562061986239132016-01-14T18:03:00.000-08:002016-01-14T18:03:25.098-08:00Is Everybody Happy?<span style="color: #93c47d;">So I asked the question "Is everybody happy?" and I don't expect a response, it's sort of a rhetorical question, Kinda like <em>"Does anybody give a fuck?"</em>....</span><br />
<span style="color: #93c47d;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #93c47d;">Of <em>course</em> not everybody is happy. We live in a world of disparity, social inequality, dystopia...</span><br />
<span style="color: #93c47d;">And the chasm is widening.</span><br />
<span style="color: #93c47d;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #93c47d;">So anyways, they're watching this thing on the television in the living room about a congressional task force to combat opioid addiction, (seems like congress never heard of NA, for some reason..) or maybe it was to combat the opioid epidemic, I think that's how they worded it. So I searched to find out what exactly is the difference between opioids and opiates. I figure, Dilaudids, Oxys, Perks, Vikes, etc. right? Well, according to <a href="http://www.lifescript.com/health/briefs/l/list_of_opioids.aspx">http://www.lifescript.com/health/briefs/l/list_of_opioids.aspx</a> It seems that <em>opiates</em> are derived from opium, while <em>opioids</em> are synthetic, basically synthetic opiates, so I guess they act on the human psyche the same way, and since humans like to get high, they are addictive, and so Uncle Sam considers them to be <em>"highly controlled"</em> or so says the website I pasted the link to above. So there's this suit on there talking, Senator Whoever The Fuck He Is, and he's babbling about how there are non-opioid alternatives that big pharma could be selling instead, and some gobbledy-goop about how they could profit from it... And I started thinking about it, how they could <em>profit</em>... That's all they're interested in, making a profit. They don't care about helping people, just about profits. That's fucked up. That's the reason why they haven't found a cure for anything yet, they don't <em>want</em> to find a cure, because if they did they'd lose money. It's never <em>been</em> about helping anybody, it's all about how some fascist rich fucks can get richer. They aren't even looking for cures for diseases, they're looking for pills that give short-term relief, so you have to keep buying more pills, so they get richer. They aren't Florence Nightingale, they're the dopeman. They want everyone hooked on their pills. If they did manage to find a cure for cancer, or aids, or the common cold, or anything, they'd bury it so they could keep on selling pills. Power corrupts, and money begets the lust for more money. That, and then there's the underlying population control, which is far more sinister, because when they say "population control" what they actually mean is <em>depopulation.</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #93c47d;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #93c47d;">They want people to die from diseases, and wars, and anything else, because there are too many people, and they can't seem to get people to quit fucking, no matter how much prudish religious fundamentalism they cram down people's throats, because people enjoy fucking. Woo! Big surprise there, huh? <em>People like to fuck!</em> Imagine that. See, back in the middle ages people were populating along at a pretty good clip, and then they had the black death, the bubonic plague, and something like two thirds of Europeans died off. All of a sudden the lords and barons and dukes and kings had to actually work, lest they starve, because most of the serfs were dead from plague. Needless to say, their royal hind-nesses didn't like this arrangement, they needed more slaves to do the work so that they could sit on their fat asses and feast all day, and have royal cotillions all night. So they urged the peasants to be fruitful and multiply. Trouble is, humans can multiply almost as well as rabbits. That's why we have too fuckin many humans for Mother Earth to sustain for much longer, especially at the rate we're going, taking from the land without giving anything back, poisoning the air, land, and water, eating and shitting, like leeches, or like a parasitic virus, which eventually bleeds its host dry, and the host dies, and in turn the virus dies with it. I don't want humanity to go extinct. I'd be, if not happy, at least less upset, maybe even calm and mellow, if all the rich bastards were to go extinct.</span>Crazy Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554733821659283049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248197521548752204.post-40755009632515275772015-12-25T09:22:00.002-08:002015-12-25T09:22:36.675-08:00Wibbley Wobbely Woo<span style="color: #6fa8dc;">uh, what the</span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;">fuck </span><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">?</span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"></span><br />
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;">This keeps on getting bet</span>Crazy Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554733821659283049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248197521548752204.post-82105807205924470352015-12-25T09:16:00.000-08:002015-12-25T09:16:44.844-08:00Bawhumbug... (Merry Fuckin Christmas)<span style="color: red;">So... Haven't been here in awhile... Uh huh. Yessir.</span><br />
<span style="color: red;"></span><br />
<span style="color: red;">Just some weird shit that randomly careens thru my mind:</span><br />
<span style="color: red;"></span><br />
<span style="color: red;">1) The word homage. If pronounced the way it's spelled, would sound like "Hommij" or "Home-ij", but has always been pronounced with a silent h and short o, like "ommij", well, that is until the phony, pretentious yuppy fucks got ahold of it, and tried to Frenchitize it, like "Oh-Mahzh" which makes the speaker sound like a pompous douchebag, in my opinion, kind of like when they say "Awn-velope" for envelope.</span><br />
<span style="color: red;"></span><br />
<span style="color: red;">2) The word sugar. Why do we pronounce it "Shooger" and not "Soo-Gar"? Why does Suge Knight spell his namd Suge, which should rhyme with spooge, instead of just spelling it Shoog? Must be a G thing, I guess.</span><br />
<span style="color: red;"></span><br />
<span style="color: red;">{I was thinking about that while taking a shit this morning.}</span><br />
<span style="color: red;"></span><br />
<span style="color: red;">3) Andy Kaufmann didn't have a cow in his name, it rhymes with Hoffmann.</span><br />
<span style="color: red;"></span><br />
<span style="color: red;">4) Yeah, I've probably written about this before, but I can't remember because I suffer from CRS (Can't Remember Shit), and I enjoy smoking pot. They say it fucks with one's short-term, uh, what is that fuckin word again?</span><br />
<span style="color: red;"></span><br />
<span style="color: lime;">So, on account of it being December 25th and all, I decided to make this post half red and half green. Woo fuckin hoo.</span><br />
<span style="color: lime;"></span><br />
<span style="color: lime;">I'm going to smoke a li'l nuggy now.</span><br />
<span style="color: lime;"></span><br />
<span style="color: lime;">Mmmm... Better! Now where was I at again? Jacob Marley. Aw Bob Saget. (There. There's an homage to Ebenezer Scrooge and Danny the Tourette's Guy.) [Fuck you and every mall santa that looks like you!] {& somewhere in the back of your mind right now is Bob Marley.}</span><br />
<span style="color: lime;"></span><br />
<span style="color: lime;"></span><br />
<span style="color: lime;"></span><br />
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<span style="color: lime;">Ah! There He Is!!</span></div>
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<span style="color: lime;"></span><br />
<span style="color: lime;">I'm a man of very little capital this December 25th, thanx in part to the weather, bills, and the <em>In<span style="color: red;">F</span></em><span style="color: lime;"><em>ernal </em>Revenue Service. (Yep, them fucks.) And, as a direct result of being a man of very little capital, I'm also a man of very little bud remaining. :( </span></span><br />
<span style="color: lime;"></span><br />
<span style="color: lime;">Anyways...</span><br />
<span style="color: lime;"></span><br />
<span style="color: lime;">Since dragging my fifty-year-old ass up out of bed this morning, approximately two hours ago, I have searched and read about the evolution of the Jeep, studied the local weather forecast [fap-fap], listened to CW McCall relaying a musical anecdote about crossing the great divide in a semi, and perused some interesting pictures and video footage of women with bizarre ink inserting bizarre (sometimes living) objects into bodily orifices... Then I was bored enough to write.</span><br />
<span style="color: lime;"></span><br />
<span style="color: lime;"> So. I'm not a very Christmasy sort of dude. I used to go thru the motions of my upbringing, get a tree, string lights on it, hang shit on it, etc. And no matter how much you water it, it drops needles everywhere, cats climb it, dogs piss on it, and inevitably some drunk motherfucker falls into it and down it goes, along with Grandma's antique family heirloom blowed-glass Christmas balls. Thpbt.</span><br />
<span style="color: lime;">Fake trees don't fare much better. Besides, fake trees suck.</span><br />
<span style="color: lime;"></span><br />
<span style="color: lime;">So I have this bag of old lights that I intercepted on its way from a job to the dump. I saved the ones that still work. I was thinking about haphazardly throwing them on the bushes in front of the house, just for the fuck of it, but it's raining outside. Someone dreamed of a wet Christmas.</span><br />
<span style="color: lime;">December 25th, 2015 - It's 70 degrees and thunderstorming. The neighbors were blowing up fireworks last night. Not the drunks across the street either, someone one street over. Maybe I'll build a fire in the yard and throw the rest of the leftover fireworks we have laying around into it. But it's fuckin raining. Coffee beckons. Merry fuckin Christmas.</span>Crazy Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554733821659283049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248197521548752204.post-74428305335196539412015-04-12T07:18:00.000-07:002015-04-12T07:18:54.726-07:00Spew...<span style="color: #6fa8dc;">I think I'm gonna spew my coffee. All over my keyboard, monitor, worktable, my lap, everything. Is it possible to sympathy spew? I don't know. I got fat when my ex was pregnant, I grew a sympathy belly, so maybe. Maybe I'm just sick of the current state of society...</span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;">I have a friend who won't stop drinking alcohol, and at least three friends, probably more, currently under the spell of heroin. And when I look at the world all around, sometimes I can't really blame them. Who wants to read about war and death and government fascism and police brutality and GMO food products and children starving while bankers count their money and killer vaccines and goddamn <em>politics</em> every day? ...I've been pondering "What does a nervous breakdown feel like?"</span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;">Where is a Bodhi tree when one needs one? ...Or have the corporate fascist bastards bulldozed them all to build another parking lot? I'd really like to smoke some pot. I'd like to hold a little twenty-something girl in my arms and just sleep all day. There are a lot of things I'd like to do. I'd like to be an Eagle, soaring high above it all, oblivious to humanity and all its suffering. But I'm a man, not an eagle. Not a hawk. Not a dove. Not a wolf, or a puma, not a donkey or a prairie dog. And not a mouse either. I'm part bear, because my great Grandmother was a Bear, but I'm just one man.</span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;">There's a story. The legend of Jumping Mouse. I tried to find a version of it that I could copy/paste here, because I don't feel like typing that much right now, but the best I could find was this: <a href="http://www.firstpeople.us/FP-Html-Legends/TheStoryofJumpingMouse-Unknown.html" target="_blank">The Legend Of Jumping Mouse</a></span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;">Everything is falling apart. It's not a facepalm. It's a <em>Flippedysquit.</em> And it's surely <em>Flibbertyjibbitz.</em></span><br />
<br />
Crazy Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554733821659283049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248197521548752204.post-44482937962068060812015-02-02T20:53:00.003-08:002015-02-02T20:53:55.373-08:00Fuck the IRS. Fuck them right in the pussy.<span style="color: red;">Motherfuckers. Damn dirty motherfuckers. What more is there to say? "Get your filthy, shit-stained paws off my motherfuckin money, you damn dirty IRS!" Damn dirty government. Yep, yep.</span><br />
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<span style="color: red;"> Damn dirty government thinks they can just rob the working folks of this here land and they expect us to just roll over and spread our cheeks. Well fuck them. They have no right to legalize robbery. And that's exactly what they've done, but not across the board, just when applicable to themselves. They made it legal for them to rob private citizens for their own gain. Ha ha, good joke. You say that it's ok for you to rob me, because you write the stinkin laws, and fuck me if I don't like it. Yeah? Well fuck you too. <em>Fuck you!</em> You hear me, motherfuckers? Fuck you and the horse you rode in on, and the bankers whose coat tails you held onto, and the Italian suit and silk tie you got with money you stole from taxpayers, and all the free shit you get as perks of the position. You need to bend over and <em>assume</em> the position, because you all deserve forty whacks, and I aim to give 'em to you. With a stainless steel boat paddle.</span><br />
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<span style="color: red;">I'm a dangerous subversive. Subversive, because I love America and hate government, and dangerous because I have the audacity to exercise my right to free speech. </span><br />
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<span style="color: red;"> The 16th Amendment (above) states that congress shall have the power to tax income from any source. It does not suggest that they have the <em>right</em> to do so. I assert that they have no such right.</span><br />
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<span style="color: red;">This rant today all stems from the fact that I'm sick and tired of being taxed into poverty by a bunch of rich bastards who do no actual work, and I'm sick of the funds they rob from me and you going to pay for the enforcement of unconstitutional laws, militarization of police, and into the pockets of the military-industrial complex. And don't even get me started on the federal reserve bank. Fuck.</span><br />
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<span style="color: red;">Bottom line is, I signed a blank W4 and trusted the intelligence of a clerk in an office to fill it out correctly. He/she/they filled it out in a manner which allows me more per pay, but leaves me holding the bag come tax time. I should have known better. I've given instruction to change it for future reference, but unfortunately it isn't retroactive, so fuck me. I shot myself in the foot, and now I have to deal with it. Have fun with my money, Sam. But I'm seriously contemplating just not filing this year at all. I have until April to think about it. I mean, what are they gonna fuckin do? Put me in jail? I've been in jail before. Take my house away? Too late motherfuckers, my house went away twelve years ago. I still have a pot to piss in, but that's about <em>all</em> I have as far as material things. I have my truck, and my computer, a couple guitars, power tools, chainsaw, etc. They can't take any of that because they would be affecting my livelihood, and thereby my right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. They affect my pursuit of happiness anyway, with their standard-issue, everyday bullfuck.</span>Crazy Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554733821659283049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1248197521548752204.post-27048594732211492202014-09-14T16:15:00.000-07:002014-09-14T16:15:36.367-07:00Nine - Fourteen - Fourteen<span style="color: orange;">So... Another lovely September day. Some wispy cirrus clouds in an otherwise blue sky, temperatures in the 70s.... A good cigar burning between my fingers.... </span><br />
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<span style="color: orange;">Anyone with even the slightest bit of awareness knows there is something wrong. Humanity was not meant to be what it has become. There is some force pushing us in the wrong direction.</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange;"> Call it what you will, its existence cannot be denied, except by idiots and the brainwashed. Leaders of nations and leaders of religions do not have the best interest of humanity or our home at heart, rather they are interested in manipulation and exploitation for their own selfish ends. This percolates down to the common man via the programming and conditioning of his mind from early childhood. People are taught to be greedy, self-centered consumers, useless eaters keeping the big machine running for the benefit of the 1%, livestock and draft animals in abject servitude to the illuminati masters. In order to break the vicious cycle and break free, one must first become aware of what is happening around them. Then they must pass this knowledge on to others.</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange;"> The more who become aware, the closer we get to the overthrow of the overlords. You can choose instead to deny the truth, even as it stands before you smacking you in the face, and to go on about your delusions. That is unfortunate, but the programming is hard to undo. Throughout history there have been those who try to break the chains, unlock the cages, and set humanity free... Most of them are killed in a violent manner, often by those whose freedom they are trying to achieve, because the programmed minds are unwilling or unable to admit the truth to themselves. This is where pride gets in the way, saying, "I'm not an idiot! I couldn't possibly get swindled into believing lies! My church/government/teachers/etc. would never steer me wrong, they are beyond reproach! How <em>dare</em> you insinuate such?! <em>You</em> must be the liar, then!" (Etc, etc, ad infinitum) This is known as belligerent denial. I have not yet found a sufficient means of smashing that wall of denial and forcing folks to look at the truth, and without some "positive empirical proof", some "concrete evidence" that cannot by its very existence be doubted, I know no way yet of freeing humanity. I still keep on searching. Deep within there must be the answer I seek.</span><br />
<span style="color: orange;">There has to be a way to smack even the most belligerent delusional mind awake. When I find it, all will know.</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange;">It's hard, exceedingly so, not to become jaded. It's hard not to get angry, anger born of frustration, frustration at the seemingly dimwitted examples of sheeple who aimlessly roam thru life, sometimes speaking opinions which are not truly their own, but rather are what they have been told to believe by some "authority" figure or another. It's difficult to make myself understand that it mostly isn't their fault, (bless em) that they have been manipulated by outside forces mind-fucking them. To try and get thru to them is like nailing jello to a tree. {<em>Goddamn sonofabitch! I coulda fucked a mule!</em>}</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange;">I try just to make my peace with <em>The All That Is</em>, simultaneously judging myself harshly for judging others. I tell myself that everyone and everything is Divine and Sovereign, even those bastards that I hate. It ain't easy carrying this sack of rocks on my back.</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange;">If I had a woman to share my burden, but no. None of them ever quite understood. It was always fun for awhile, getting some pussy, but then the arguments would ensue. Who can be expected to understand the mind and the heart and the soul of a crazy person? So I carry this sack of rocks alone.</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange;">Maybe one day that big black triangle will return, with the cute blonde who speaks to my soul with her eyes. Maybe she will come and take me away with her.</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange;">I know there is a purpose to it all. There <em>has</em> to be.</span><br />
<span style="color: orange;">Fuck, fuckedy fuck fuck.</span>Crazy Bearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554733821659283049noreply@blogger.com0