A brief spike in traffic

For 3 days running I had over 100 views to the site, akin to a miracle.  I’m not that interesting, so it must’ve all been for recent Jeopardy! contestant Rachel Lindgren.

It’s my duty to warn you thirsty nerds AGAIN that smart women are not a solution to anything and being a sapiosexual is a road to nowhere.  If she’s smart while you’re enamored (subtract 25 IQ points for each boob and asscheek) you’re in QUADRUPLE the danger of being manipulated.  Not that I overly give a shit what happens to you, you’re probably better off than me.

I believe this blog is now 10 or 11 years old, which means little because I rarely posted after 2009, was it?  It has brought me neither joy nor grief, certainly no money or gavina.  I don’t read my own shit so I’ve forgotten most of it, except to remember impassioned movie reviews about Batman (pointless) or politics (far more pointless) and cussing out my wage slave job while doing nothing to improve my lot in life.

Two things happened in the last 5 years which changed the entire arc of my  inclinations, I got out of the shit job and I “discovered” whores.  Also, my father died  at 73 of natural causes, if you count lung cancer as natural.

The whores saved my life.  Once I was getting laid fairly regularly all the Mysteries of Womanhood evaporated, which was bittersweet, but poetry is either written out of your system or it burns you from the inside out like drinking bleach.  Poetry IS drinking bleach, usually for the reader. 

The women’s humanity made me less of a misogynist, and it even seemed a few of them enjoyed the ride beyond getting paid.  (I haven’t been laid in over a year due to health problems so that’s on pause.)

I’m closer to 50 than 40 now.  I’m not better than I was in 2006, but like to think I’ve learned much the last 10 or 11 years.  I wouldn’t trade my scant “life’s work” of writing for falling in love.   

Here are the final lines from a long ago poem.

I know it’s coming, death or a balloon.

The slitted eyes of a petted cat.

Three Reasons Not to Suicide:

1)  You’ll spoil your record of perfect attendance.  You’ve been alive since you were born. Even when you’ve been knocked out cold you were still alive.  You’ve survived chicken pox, the dentist, learning how to ride a bike, maybe even had sex once or twice.  If you kill yourself, that all gets wiped out.

 

2)  Death is not an escape.  You know how life works, it’s the same shit over and over again in different packaging.  Do you really think the Designer of so nefarious a world would provide such an easy way out?  Have you ever tried getting out of a cell phone contract?  It doesn’t have to be the threat of a fiery Hell to stick around either:  you could come back to earth, only with a smaller penis, or as a Siamese twin, sharing a smaller penis.

 

3)  Death is guaranteed.  No one ever got to the ticket window and heard, “I’m sorry, we’re all out of death.”  Death is coming anyway, why pay extra for 2-day shipping?  God only kills happy people.  Make Him do the work.

 

 

There you have it, three reasons not to suicide.  Not very good reasons, but some kind of lubricant is always better than none.

From May 2014

American Gods Ep. 4: Tits or GTFO

Ep 4 of American Gods is automatically better than Ep 3 because there are no futt-bucking muslims anywhere. We get the story of the whore wife. What’s worse than her cheating on Sha-dope was marrying the poor fool. He loves her, she loves nothing. More insulting, we see her ass (or a body double’s ass) for less than a second and NO titties, this after last week’s unwelcome gay muslim sausage-fest (for which today’s muslim bombing of the Ariana Grande concert is revenge?)

This is the first episode Sha-dope is allowed to emote, giving him some depth, so there’s that. The saddest part was Dummy the Cat. I was disappointed his ghost self didn’t appear in Anubis’ afterlife sandbox, even just to take a shit.

Oh and uh, since the Hannibal TV show dudes made AG, “Tobias” is back as one of the Old Gods.

 

“The Dawn of Zen”

When I was a liberal, nothing changed except for the worse.
When I was an anarchist, nothing changed except for the worse.
When I was a Libertarian, nothing changed except for the worse.
When I was a Conservative, nothing changed except for the worse.
When I was a Trump Voter, nothing changed except for the worse.

No matter who’s in charge, taxes go up.
No matter who’s in charge, prices go up.
No matter who’s in charge, freedom fades.
No matter who’s in charge, the bad guys win.

God is in control.
Satan is in control.
You are not in control.

It’s always been this way
Will always be this way

So relax and get those dishes
done.

The end of the USA Part CMLXXVIII

I’d only been following this story peripherally, about Americans taken hostage by somali pirates.

I agree with those voices that condemned these Americans as idiots for putting themselves in that kind of danger.

Now that these Americans have been killed by the pirates, it’s time to wipe this somali shit off the face of the earth, sink every one of their ships and carpet bomb the shoreline.

Of course, it won’t happen.

As long as a weak-kneed, jug-eared, Kenyan Muslim-sympathizer occupies the White House, we can expect…nothing.  Well, almost nothing:  Cankles Clinton did call the murders “deplorable”.  That’s just the kind of harsh language that frightens these pirate vermin.

When a nation loses its martial spirit, it’s done for.  Little fugazis like being unable to handle somali savages are even worse than the big shit, and as the border problem proves, it’s not just one side of the aisle with no balls.

So, another hearty Fuck You to anyone who voted for The Kenyan.

You’re partially excused if you’ve said, “I’m sorry I voted for him” since 2008.

Your redemption arrives in 2012.  Do it right before the world ends in December of that year.

MORE Funny as Hell youtube comments

Ah yes, more random funny as hell youtube comments. In Shakespeare’s day, the crowds of rabble didn’t hesitate to throw rotten tomatoes, cabbages and other things when the play sucked ass.  Our modern rabble, er, critics (barely) type instead of throw.

Youtubers are barely a level above real tubers, that is, potato heads.  I include myself in that anonymous crowd of rabble with 55-gallon drums of venom and nowhere to go but to the keyboard.

The human race is insane.  It’s why God didn’t bother to make the Bible make sense.

As usual, horrible spelling has been left intact.

 

I think we’ve all been the lord of darkness at some point in our lives, I’m about to reach that stage

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This video has urged me to defecate in space.

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sadly, this is not the only time dairy products have been rapped about.

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I hope this guy gets paid good, cause i wouldn’t do this unless i was either drunk, or so high i losted half of my brain.

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can you take of you bakini?

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boomerangs are for people who don’t have friends.

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i thought the story was so simple it was almost insulting to the audience. the special effects were like dangling keys in front of a dog.

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Shut the fuck up you degenerate piece of shit. Your generalizations due little to compliment your intellect. I know quite a few roofers who could buy your house in full and use it as a toilet.

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When I was little, I got raped by puppets too. (smile)

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I would like to hire the Angel Force to clean my apartment. It looks like they do a good job.

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When I was a kid I wanted a monkey and a semi-tractor.  Now as an adult I just want someone to play with my monkey as a semi passes.

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They need to put warnings on the box about how good this new pizza is. I just spent 20 minutes cleaning jizz off my keyboard after I tried the new recipe!

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I wish I could coment on this. but I do not want to make a mistake.

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I now envy the blind and def.

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he has a really nice tan. i’d wear his skin around my apartment for sure.

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that almost better than tits

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u sir, are and idiot.

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White muggers? Is this science fiction??

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AT LAST!  A MOVIE ABOUT TALKING DOGS!

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I wonder if her dookey is different colorss? Hah, who am I kidding, girls don’t poop.

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That poor, poor ottoman. I don’t even know gay men that do this…

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i still find it hard to understand why people with an IQ of 5 manage to make millions of dollars by doing jack shit

JERKING OFF IS LIKE A BREAKFAST BAR

Dropped a small amount of shrooms–stems only–no caps. I chanted over the dried bits and pieces which look like twigs and I chanted while beginning the trip which turned out to be a dud. My pupils did not dilate, I had no hallucinations. I jerked it, then took a shower (always a brilliant idea, dropping mind-altering substances and then standing on a wet, slippery surface).

I’m sorry this post will go nowhere, but NOTHING happened except I got a small burst of energy and the title for this post: JERKING OFF IS LIKE A BREAKFAST BAR. Because it doesn’t have to be breakfast time to enjoy one. Oh no, you can jerk off evenings, Tuesdays, one minute past high noon and in the fountain at the mall, as long as you can outrace Security with your pants around your anks.

The shrooms did not enhance the onanistic experience. Perhaps my dreams will rock…

Before all of this shroom business I surfed the internet for the phrase, “Accept there is no justice”. The reason no one accepts this obvious truth is their ego is in the way. No one likes to be shat upon and revenge is very close in the hearts of humans, like a rifle hidden just inside the jamb of the front door.

Earlier today I explained to a Buddhist woman that I believe there is a God, as in an intelligent, conscious energy with thoughts of its own. She disagreed, using the sentiment that, “We are God,” not in a blasphemous way but in the sense We are the Perceivers. I have no beef with that, I was more annoyed she doesn’t smoke dope anymore. Ironically or not, historically-speaking, the best-functioning religion that’s caused the least harm appears to be Buddhism, an atheistic religion.

I didn’t mention today was the 4th of July right away because I’m not feeling it. With a respectful nod to American soldiers who gave their sanity, limbs and lives, I have no independence of my own, all my so-called personal freedom is mixed with severe punishment. After all, one is free to quit one’s hated job and starve on the street. One is free to choose drugs and then be warehoused in nigger college, aka prison. One is free to write the words “nigger college” and then have the hyenas and jackals scream for one’s politically-incorrect head. One is free to jump off a tall building, only to discover one’s freedom to fly ends as gravity begins.

I just ran to the bathroom to check my pupils. If they were ever abnormally large they’re back to normal now. It’s one hour into July 5th, everything is back to normal, we can forget freedom and sacrifice for another year.

Struggling for second place

“I have found God, and he is insufficient.” -Henry Miller

Henry, I feel the same way. Earth is just a giant waiting room and I’d feel better as a ball of energy than a meatsack human being. This body is nothing but trouble, a festering cesspool for the ego to roll around in.

The mind is a crumpled paper airplane in a hurricane, but the ego thinks it’s a fighter jet.  The capacity for self-delusion is bottomless.  The mind is its own worst enemy; why it throws fear at itself I understand, it’s a survival mechanism. But why does the mind attack itself with doubt?

Life was brutal for the caveman but far simpler: at any given moment he was either alive and afraid or unaware and eaten. Attempts at poetry or deep thought were ended by saber-toothed tigers.  Now there’s nothing to stop bad poetry.

Sorry God, but I’m ready to go back. I won’t learn anything else here, life is all reruns now. I’m too lazy to meditate, I’d rather sleep.

I’m having trouble remembering why I didn’t commit to suicide when I was an atheist.  If it was all meaningless, why didn’t I end it?  The Satanist proclaims pleasure the greatest virtue.  I couldn’t extract pleasure out of anything except being an observer and surfing over others’ hypocrisy.  Obviously I survived.  But lived?

I was alone then, before then, and now.

My pal Hal swears if he won the lottery he’d build an underground house and never leave it.  Everything would be ordered and brought to his door.  I don’t blame him.  “Hell is other people,” is the greatest line ever written.  Everyone else with a pen or keyboard only struggles for second place while the moon shits cold fire and the women sleep with other men.

Thoughts deeper than you

“Could any Hell be more horrible than now, and real?”
— Jim Morrison

I’ve been thinking about suicide lately with the same conclusion Sam Kinison had about wife-beating: I don’t condone it, but I understand it.

I won’t kill myself.

For one thing, at my age there’s very little left to kill.  (- Bukowski)

Life is painful, unpredictable and typically just plain fucked-up in both meaning and execution: it’s unreasonable to believe that suicide would bring an immediate end to suffering from such a warped existence; suicide is the gleaming cheese in a mousetrap.

Suicide means physical death, but I don’t want death, because death means MORE: more suffering and more pleasure. I want neither, in favor of annihilation.

I’ve been fortunate enough to experience this annihilation, which is not an empty void but The Void, filled with Everything which is really only One thing. I could only enter this state of No-Mind under the aegis of a meditation master capable of projecting spiritual energy. The meditation group I was with only got to experience it perhaps a dozen times a year.

One minute I’d be sitting in my folding chair, the next there was NOTHING, all the chattering noise and nonsense composing the modern mind wiped clean like a giant eraser swiping across a dry erase board. Other types of meditation had different effects but coming out of the No-Mind sessions I always felt oddly refreshed.

No-Mind has been called ‘the only true final Enlightenment’ and if you’re lucky enough to merge with it beyond death, you win, that’s all, no more suffering, no more anything. Compared to this state, a heavenly afterlife seems ridiculous. If you can have limitless pleasurable experiences in Heaven, it stands to reason one moment will feel better for you than another. How is that Heaven? You’ll still be striving for MORE, even if by definition, in Heaven you always Receive it.

Nothingness sounds scary, I know. To a 300lb co-worker I presented the choice between a guaranteed immediate merging forever into nothingness or a chancy afterlife. His answer was, “I like existing.”

I do not like existing. I am trapped here, with none to rescue.

Obama crack corn and I don’t care

Obama comes across as an uninspiring, arrogant phony but I don’t hate him, I almost pity him. I aleady know how the story of the next 4 years goes. Would you like a sneak preview?

Obama enacts Same Old New Deal and expands government’s size and illegitimate power. Economy eventually recovers, taking much longer than it would have if government did nothing. Team Obama takes credit for what the free market did.

OR

Obama enacts Same Old New Deal and expands government’s size and illegitimate power. Economy fails to recover fast enough to people’s liking. The half of the country that didn’t vote for Obama takes up arms. Cleansing begins.

Either scenario is fine with me. You can’t let politics prevent you from enjoying your life, even if your life story includes being swept up in a revolution. No government agency, politician or President has ever brought me prosperity, pussy or anything else. What I want is up to me. How I’ll get it is also up to me.

Due to laziness, there will probabaly be a real civil war or insurrection before I write about a fictional one.