Archive for March, 2008

We will not be undersold

Monday, 31 March 2008
The bum on the corner holds his sign: ANY AMOUNT WELCOME GOD BLESS. Whether he’s scamming or not he’s superior, he can toss away self-respect or dignity long enough to collect, and everything he makes he keeps, no tax. What good is self-respect if it doesn’t pay off?
*******
Welcome to the world’s shortest love story! I found a matchbook in the street. I ignored all of the matches still intact, noticing only the space where one had been ripped out and used. That was the match I wanted.
*******
Kayaking. Why?
*******
Frisbee on the roof, neon orange plastic bleached white by the sun. What does this have to do with winter? It’s over.
*******
Giant tortoises never write books, or maybe they do, they just procrastinate the first 100 years.
*******
Why are you surprised by problems? So much of our economy is based on people that never learn.
*******

I read the obituaries, aka People You Will Never Meet. It’s the only part of the paper promising an end to suffering.

*******

Only very still fish prefer to swim in formaldehyde.

*******

I can’t cry.

Advertisements

Quoticle – Fair Trade

Monday, 31 March 2008

(Upon lending a dollar to a pregnant woman with large teats)

You can pay me back when you’re lactating.

~ meatlights39

Florida “apologizes” for slavery

Saturday, 29 March 2008

Recently Florida made an “official” apology for its role in slavery.

Since there hasn’t been slavery in the USA for some time now, this makes Whites look weak and stupid, doubly so since for decades now Whites are the racial group legally discriminated against. A useless apology to ghosts also reinforces the learned bitterness and resentment that Democrats and “Black leaders” use to keep Blacks trapped on the Plantatrix.

If an apology was terribly important, President Lincoln would’ve taken care of it when it mattered. Speaking of Lincoln, when do you suppose there’ll be an “official” Thank You from the latest round of self-described “Black leaders” thanking the Union Army for ending slavery?

Will the descendants of African Kings who sold slaves to Europeans also be apologizing?

Slavery is an ancient practice. Every race on the planet has held slaves and been slaves. For American Blacks to appropriate slavery as a tragedy that happened solely to them insults the slave trade still going on in Africa.

These words I write keep me from total sadness

Saturday, 29 March 2008

Roids, first mentioned in this post, looks like a young Michael J. Fox, one who wears a lot of tank tops and tight-sleeved T-shirts and is pumped up on you-guessed-it. He’ll be quitting the job soon, but as a part-timer he was hardly ever here anyway.

Roids disclosed yesterday he’d bagged Londra, another part timer, the other night. In the face, ‘Lonnie’ looks like Egon from Ghostbusters but her ass is astonishing. Her body is straight until the ass, which hits out of nowhere like the bulb of a glass thermometer. It turns out Lonnie, a plain-except-for-the-butt broad, is a full-on freak, pierced nipples, works by day at a nudist camp, etc.

Good luck, Roids.

This is the 2nd broad Roids has nailed at the job with little effort, proving once again that women, if the setup is right, are just as shallow as men.

I really like Roids and will miss him when he’s gone. He wants to be a cop, like his older brother. He’s smart enough but not a deep thinker, the kind of generic happy fellow that does best in this world. When at work he was always scheduled evenings while ______, the unhappily married woman I had a thing for, worked mornings; had they met and hooked up I would’ve shot them both, then myself.

Now that is an awful thing to say, but you have to understand the difference between writing something and acting on it. Stephen King has written about monsters, human and otherwise, for decades, but no one seriously believes he zips up in a werewolf suit in Owl’s Dung, Maine and goes looking for victims in the woods; if he did, no one would believe it.

Why write about Roids at all? Because the whole woman-whore game is as bad or worse than being picked last as a kid in PE (I was usually picked second-to-last but fuck ’em, I didn’t want to play that badly).

Staring into the Void it’s possible to accept there are some things you should never have to take.

Being a loner is a great gift except when it’s not.

mumia abu-jamal belongs in a noose, not the news

Saturday, 29 March 2008

There’s only two reasons piece-of-filth convicted cop killer mumia abu-jamal continues to use up valuable space, food and oxygen: he’s Black…and handsome. While the Black part is enough to get the race-obsessed commie morons rooting for him, his handsomeness is what put him over and made him a darling of Hollywood limousine liberals and other lefturds.

If jamal’s well-deserved death sentence is permanently commuted to life in prison, does that mean he moves from death row to GP? I sincerely hope so; the Aryan Brotherhood will be waiting…

Not that I’m a fan of the AB but c’mon, they’re the only ones with a flyswatter in range of this buzzing martyr of the looney left.

My ultimate mumia fantasy would be to magically release him inside the movie-world of Predator 2. Lots of murderous Blacks with dreadlocks met a grisly end in that one. Ha ha ha.



I remembered to do everything on my days off except live

Friday, 28 March 2008

The baby-faced pornette pushes her pillowy breasts together.  She looks drugged, hopefully only on the drooping meat aimed at her mouth.  She strokes it and sucks the tip, a loud pop as she pulls her mouth away.   Her only flaw is she talks like a wigger and calls semen “dessert” and “cream filling.”  Plus it’s not my ____  sexily swelling her cheek.  I’ve been eating very little this week, trying to drop 10lbs. approaching a personal barrier.   I am irritable with an angry octopus of hunger in my stomach punching the walls.  While being punched I spied a beautiful woman wearing light-skinned sunglasses in the supermarket.  Tits, ass, shorts, so cute she shits kittens.  Fug.  I walked past her feeling like a bombed-out building. Later I ‘IM’ a friend in Colorado about the supermarket beauty/women.  m39:  There’s this feeling that all is hopeless whenever I see them….and especially that there’s nothing to say.  CO Doom:  besides saying to them, ‘hello, this is hopeless.’  m39: hell, that could work.  wish i’d thought of it.  CO Doom: women suck. m39: that doesn’t help the pain tho, does it.  CO Doom:  no

NO.

This week the scientists are claiming that hard exercise for weight loss is canceled out because you eat more after a workout.  They’re right.  After hard lifting I could eat a whole couch just to taste the potato chip crumbs buried under the cushions.  I’m still working on winning and losing this burden, though what good is a ‘perfect’ body if you can’t talk to anyone.  The internet pwned me these last two days.  I surfed like a zombie, this is my drug, my poison, my living death.  I discussed writing, I considered writing, I did everything but write.  I’m gearing up for something bigger?  I’m not asking, as no one knows.  Did you know in “L337speak” FTW means ‘For The Win’?  I know it as ‘Fuck The World’.  Ours is better, nerds.  I dread sleep because I never want it to end.  Unlike this.  Goodnight.

A playing card in the spokes of the wheel of joy and suffering

Wednesday, 26 March 2008

I’ve been away from meatlights for a day or three, there’s nothing to write about and enough crap around here–much of it pornful–to keep a rotating crowd amused.  The lesson learned is if all else fails and you’ve got nothing to say you can keep putting jelqing and Vida Guerra in the Tags. 

It’s unusual for me to be “happy” (which is sad in itself) but lately I’ve been feeling…better.  Not joyous like stardust enemas and unicorns ejaculating rainbows, more like feeling that living is equal to dying and either state is interchangeable (so close to the truth).  Events have stabilized to a small degree in part by making decisions and taking small action.  But while my own life balances however briefly, the lives of others I care for has been rough or rougher.

That’s just how it is. 

To hell with feeling.  I’ve a good haircut and am getting enough sleep.  Is there more? 

Quoticle – What is owed

Sunday, 23 March 2008

“I owe Him NOTHING!”

~ Reply of a friend’s father, whose wife of 40+ years was taken by cancer, when questioned why he went fishing Easter morning.

It’s hard being a broke badass

Saturday, 22 March 2008

The banks won’t give me a motorcycle loan so
I’m working
on getting a motorcycle gang loan.
I’ve already got the logo:

a pink teddy bear
sliding down a rainbow
offering yellow roses
to a smiling buttterfly.

I really need that loan.

Without it we’re just a bunch of guys
walking around making engine sounds.


Smallville blues

Friday, 21 March 2008

I’m trying like hell to stay interested in Smallville because I love the Superman mythos but I’m only fooling myself, the show is a fucking travesty.

Due partially to 2008 being one big Kryptonite enema for me, I’ve missed the last 4 or so episodes and would have missed tonight’s had I not bothered on a whim to poke around the worthless CW website (watch full episodes of CW shows! But only the crap ones)!

I don’t know how dead fucking Jor-El keeps meddling all the way to the point he can strip superpowers away like God, or why this same omnipotent ghost-in-the-machine can’t/won’t do anything to stop Clark’s many foes (at least 3 have actually been in the Fortress so far). Why can’t Ghost Jor-El ever explain to Clark what the fuck is going on?   Because a more complex plot would require good writing, and the lazy, sloppy hacks are content to simply drag things out while violating the logic of the Superman universe.

The last ep I saw was the one where Jor-El punishes Clark via Kara/Stuporgirl (the UNstacked blonde), inflicting her with amnesia and beaming her to Detroit, a plot twist even I found tacky and subtly racist. Oh look, a pretty blonde White woman be lost on deh mean streets of Motown! YOU KNOW WHERE YOU ARE? YOU’RE IN THE JUNGLE BABY!

While away I’ve also missed key moments like the return of Pete, who drove into town solely to pimp Stride gum.

Later Chloe and Lana hop into Chloe’s impossibly clean and detailed car (commercial) and drive away. I wouldn’t mind these in-show ads (a la Truman Show) except a) they’re badly blatant and distracting and B) unlike the Truman Show concept, there are still regular commercial breaks.

The cheap CW motherfuckers are also skimping on the effects…we’re lucky to get a minute of action per episode anymore.

If you look at the numbers, Smallville peaked in its second season, when it was Smallville High and everyone was still young enough to look like a teen at age 24 and there was always a reason for a girl to be in a bikini or cheerleader outfit and the plots were simple Freak-of-the-Week fun. As the show progressed they knew it wouldn’t last, yet when the time came to deliver More, the shit writers seemed to have been caught completely unprepared. More likely, they just didn’t give a shit.

I don’t know if this is the final season of Smallville. I believe so; if not it should be. Both Welling and Rosenbaum seem tired, with a fullness of face signaling the arrival of early middle age.

Some day, if I’m still alive, I’ll end up dropping a hundred at Costco for Smallville: the Complete Series. It’s sad that I want them to get it over with rather than celebrate what was a great idea in its prime. Smallville fans (I’m the only one I know) and the Man of Steel deserve better.