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.

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.