I risk getting shot at the public library to give you my take on the world

I bet you did not know that going to the library was dangerous. When I pulled up to the library today there were three cop cars circling around the parking lot. I noticed the rest of the parking lot was empty except one vehicle that appeared to be abandoned because its doors were open and the driver was no where to be seen. I know you don't care if I get shot you just want to read this blog and you don't want to hear how brave I am for parking and running inside to the computer lab just so you can get your Internet fix on.

Well, I did it and here I am and I did not get shot at. I walked past two of the police officers and gave them a look like, "Am I gonna get shot? What's going on here?" I did not get a response from either of the cops, not even the tired, exasperated look of "stop being a pussy everything is ok" that cops are alway giving me and my friends. Instead I was ignored. The cops were on their cell phones and I am sure neither of them was doing official business. I don't know who they were talking to but I guess whatever happened today was not a big deal even though there aren't many cars in the parking lot and those that are there look like they were abandoned in a hurry because of a car jacking so I am just going to pretend everything is ok because I guess the cops are not here to evacuate the building.

I bet you wondering why I would risk everything just to get to the Internet just to clank away at a keyboard to get my message out to the world. I would think you would know the answer to that by now but you are pretty thick headed. I guess I would say the reason I need to communicate with you is that as one reviewer put it,

Romius T. is the voice of the post-modern age, he is zippy and light years ahead of the cultural zeitgeist. His post-racists, post- feminist diatribes challenge and leave behind most of you and instead of worrying that his audience "won't get it" he brusquely waves away such worries as he boldly soldiers on into the new millennium. If the new age is too scary for you, don't worry. romius will carry you on his back to comedic utopia."

Sure that reviewer was me but I still think you get the point.

I am here for you. And to prove it I went and got me some broadband Internet. I know I told you guys that I was moving and I am. The condo will have Quest this Thursday and I am thinking I should call in sick and stay home and play all day on the Internet, but I won't because I will need to pay for the 40 dollars a month the Internet is going to cost me. It also means I will have a new podcast up and ready by the weekend. At least I hope I will, if all goes well and I foresee no reason that it won't but I don't like to commit myself to anything including the turning on of utilities. (I need to get a hold of my roommate the FRo and make sure I pay the electric bill so we don't have the lights turned off just in time for me to get the Internet because that would suck.)

I am moving because I don't have a sink. The condo will have a sink, dishwasher and a mostly working stove. If you add in the Internet and two working computers (I am going to return my computer or have them fix the fan that does not work) you can see why I should just go ahead and make the move now and now wait until all the work is done on the house. If you add in curtains and no Mexicans waking me up at 7am on a Sunday to install the cabinetry I think it is what we can call a no-brainer.

I'm not bitter, I just write that way

If you read my last post then you probably think I am bitter. I am not. I am not bitter. I just think I am entitled to the same amount of luck that everybody else gets.

Actually if you made it all the way through the last post congratulations. I can and usually do try and reread what I post to make sure it is not too boring and is at least recognizable English. I am afraid I got a little bored halfway through the post so I know if I did then you probably did too and I am sorry about that.

It's a good thing I don't have regular access to the Internet as I left out a whole lot of the stuff I was gong to write in an already way to long post.

A list of the things you don't get to read because I don't have access to the Internet except at Internet cafes and the public library.

• a detailed explanation of Marxist theory of crisis including underconsumptionist theories


• my purchase of the new Metallica CD (awesome on the scale of awesomeness)


• my new nickname from Maria at work--awesome?--that is awesome with a question mark and you are supposed to pronounce it that way. Her nickname is Sassy which I think is much better


• pictures of Sarah Palin's mongrel child
• inappropriate pictures of a 13 year old Brooke shields I saw on the drunken stepfather blog at the Internet cafe which I have to hide because I am sure people are staring at me funny now which is not fair as I am not the kinda guy who subscribes to y14 magazine so I can beat off to all the jail bait
• my idea to start a jail bait weblog where I will take advertising and then get rich
• my one year anniversary at the grocery store and the 50 dollars I blew on buying new clothes for work because I feel once a year I should "treat" myself to a new uniform-I am sure my employer is happy since my workplace does not pay for any of the costs for me to be in uniform even though they require us to have a certain look
• I am just glad I decided on the black polo shirt (I won for getting a 100% on a recent mystery shop) tan chinos and new cool look shoes that are very hip and young looking and make me appear to be 34 instead of 37. A much better look overall compared to the faded black khakis from target, the white short sleeved dress shirt and black skater styled sneakers.
• my failure to include enough pictures on my blog because I feel too rushed in the writing process

OK. I guess I don't remember that many of the things I was going to post about. I can tell you that I now have paid $2.34 to sit here and type this post so I hope you guys really enjoyed it. I ran the bill up to $3.64 looking for pictures of Sarah Palin's mongrel child to no avail. So I included a picture of a Foxxy Sarah instead. Enjoy.

I save the America from financial ruin and I explain to you why bad things happen only to good people like me

I discovered the best way to make my podcast more popular. Stop making my podcast and watch the dowloads spike upwards. I guess people like my podcast better when I stop talking. I've had more than 400 downloads this month which is twice as much as any normal month even though I haven't recorded a podcast in the 2 months since my Internet connection was cut off.

I think the podcast benefits from being listed on Digg.com and from getting ranked in the top 50 most popular podcasts by listeners over at Switchpod.com. And while the podcast seems to be enjoying a spike in popularity, I don't think my podcast will ever be truly popular because it suffers from some kind of bi-polar disease. My rating over at Switchpod is usually 2.97 which is only .01 away from being in the top 50. Every once and while I get a few voters vote up the podcast and that pushes me into the top 50 for a bit. Then I get flooded with votes for being listed as a Top 50 podcast and (from what I can tell at least) the new votes all seem to grade me higher than a 3.0 but my score drops back down to 2.97 leaving me just out of the rankings. So for a few moments I am awesome and popular, but then for next few weeks I am back to being just like you- an anonymous blog/podcaster that only my family reads or accidental searchers stumble upon.

I bring up this point up to echo a larger point about the cosmic injustice of the universe. *

*(And by the way anyone who blogs about their day should only be blogging to make a larger point but that is just my take on blog writing issues.)

I have 2 points to make about the cosmic injustice of the universe.

I don't make any secret that I think having a positive attitude is for suckers. I also feel like I am the only person in the world who laughs at folks who think the universe is fair or that the the universe actually cares about them.

I just don't see any evidence for karmatic justice in the world which I guess is why people who believe in that stuff have to resort to faith. The basic unfairness of human life is self evident to anyone with a brain so if the universe really is aware like some people claim it is we have to conclude that the universe does not give a shit about us. I guess for some people that kind of thing is so scary they would rather go on believing in Karma or some variation of magical thinking just so they can get through the day.

As your hero Barrack Obama would say, "Enough!"

I say you should just tuff it out and stop looking for rationalizations to do good, like "the univese gives back what you give to it" and just do the right thing anyway. I did yesterday. I saved the world from another financial meltdown. Not a lot of you can say that about yourselves and even fewer of you would chose to save the world when confronted with a billion dollar bribe, but I did because I don't care about money. I only care about the things money can buy you like: respect, women, and a fancy new laptop with wireless Internet connection.

How did I save the world you ask?

It was a just a normal day for me and like any day the Lottery goes over 150 million dollars I buy one Power Ball ticket and prey to god that he gives me the winning numbers. But unlike most days I was given the option to try the "power play" with my lottery purchase. The "power play" option allows the purchaser to triple and sometimes quintuple her winnings. Since the Power Ball is nearly 200 million dollars, the purchase of a power play would net me roughly 1 billion dollars.

A billion dollars is a lot of money and most have you have been bought for a lot less. You have been bought for the assurances that your rubbing thighs do not make you fat. You have been bought for the assurance that you will not be left alone in the universe just because one person in 7 billion can put up with your bizarre sex fetishes, or eating requirements. You think because you have a soul mate and I don't that deep down you are the better person and that you are the good person your mother always told you you were.

I know you are wrong and I doubt you are even an "OK" person but that is not the point, the point is that I turned down a billion dollars because I know that the financial markets are in turmoil and the industry that bets against people picking winners in the lottery, hedge their bets with risky investments in the real estate market and they could not cover the 800 million dollars they would be on the line for when I win the lottery with the power play. I know winning 200 million dollars is pretty good consolation prize and you think that maybe I should not complain, but I thought it necessary to point out to you that I am a much better person that you are because I am willing to turn down a billion dollars for the common good, and that is because I have something that you and your fancy community college degree holding friends don't have, and that is a little thing I like to call integrity.

The Universe still ends up screwing me

I may have integrity, but the universe does not care about those kinds of things. I know this because I got a call from my ex Google girlfriend the other day. She called me just to rub it in my face that she now earns three times as much as I do and that is even after my recent 73 cent raise to $9.32 and hour. (Suck it minimum wage earners!)

When we last left the Ex she had been fired from her job at B of A where she earned only twice as much as me. She was forced to move in with Baby Daddy #2 and his sister. As you might guess that situation only lasted a week or so and she had to leave and move in with her Mom. Yesterday, I got a text message from my Ex with a strange phone number telling me to call the number right away. Being the great guy I am, I naturally worried about her and the two kids being on the streets or in some kind of danger. I took my break early and hurriedly dialed the number only to find that the phone number in the text was a practical joke number where the voice on the other end of the line accused me of having bad breath.

After calming down and worrying that indeed, "I may have bad breath" just because I think brushing my teeth is some kind of ruling class plot to drum up support for fluoridating public water, I managed to work up enough "furious" anger to call the ex and inquire as to how things were going. That's when she told me the good news that she got a job at Charles Schwab and yes the same Charles Schwabb I applied for. (I blogged here about if you don't recall and why is it I must remind you of every detail of my life when it is all in print for you to read?)

She told me she was going to earn 25 dollars and hour and they were going to bend over backwards to not apply the college degree requirement for her position, and would pay for her schooling to get the degree and if she got the degree they would give her a much bigger raise.

Don't you see!

Good things like that happen to people like her and not to people like me.

The Ex keeps getting bailed out of all kinds of crazy things because random luck seems to flow her way. I know her luck won't last because she needs to eventually get a college degree to keep her position and my ex actually getting a college degree is about as likely to happen as Sarah Palin's mongrel child graduating with a college degree from Harvard. Actually the Down Syndrome child of a Vice Presidential candidate has much better chance of graduating from college than my ex girlfriend ever does. (Just look at George W.) I won't add that I am not eligible for food stamps, but she gets affordable housing and will be moving into a three bedroom house for three hundred dollars and I will be rooming with a man who marks down on his calender when it is ok to eat Frito's.

I will never see the kind of luck my Ex gets. All I do is save your life by snuffing out trash fires and maintain the health of the financial markets by refusing a billion dollar bribe therby protecting the very risk takers that helped create the supposed vitality that is the capitalist market (and hey whatever happened to the notion that the rewards of profit from capitalistic market places were derived from risk and that was what made them morally acceptable.)

Now we are just going to socialize the risk and privatize the gains and that is not Socialism as Glen Beck will try and tell you, and it is not Socialism for the Wealthy as PBS will tell you, it is FASCISM but what the fuck do I know I am just a Marxist and we all know that the classic Marxist explanation of the business cycle that warns of, "too much capital in one sector can lead to sharp disruptions in other sectors" [note to those who might care: that is not an underconsumptionist argument] and that these sectors will soon be so co-dependent that the nature of crisis in late capitalism is not that the crisis of the business cycle will grow deeper (a la the great depression) but ever wider (a la the housing boom/bust effects finance which effects loans which effect whether GM can buy steel and not announce another round of layoffs which according to the FED we were days away from the largest 900 companies essentially going bankrupt and I did not even bring up how the foreign markets are effected by this) but then again what the fuck do I know about all that shit I read the internets and 19th century treatises on the economy.

I do not listen to the dismal practitioners of modern economic "science." I do not listen to the because when you ask them why the economy is in shambles the only answer you get is, "We don't know." If they don't know that they don't know much of anything. But at least it is nice to hear a bunch of apolagists for capital's excess admit the truth for a change. They don't know.

I keep writing because that way I don't have to look for a second job

I know I am supposed to be looking for a second job as a nightwatchman somewhere. I think I will be a security guard at one of the posh hotels we have in the valley. I used to stay up till 7am anyway and at least now I will get paid for it.

In order to become a security guard one apparently needs to pick up a guard card. I have no idea what a guard card is or what it could be but I am guessing that any security firm worth its money has the ability to get you one of those.

I was looking on Craigslist yesterday for jobs and even though we may be living through the second great depression there seemed to be plenty of opportunities in the "guard my shit" position. I am guessing that security firms never have trouble finding work. There are always plenty of people with enough stuff they want kept away from others. I find this kind of work to be depressing as I am just protecting the goods and needs of the wealthy.

My current job working for a capitalist grocer is not much better but at least there I don't care if you steal stuff. We are told not to confront thieves because my employer does not want to pay off any lawsuits from the robbers or to my estate if the robbery turns ugly. If I ever die from being shot I want my friends to know that I would sue for millions.

I have no reason to mention the following, but I thought some of you perverts might like to know that I check out hot chicks at the library:

Two days ago I sat next to a 50 year old gay man who kept asking me about my online pay of an insurance bill. I thought he wanted to sell me insurance but it turns out that he just wanted me to notice that he liked giant cock. He was watching porn the whole time he was talking to me and I guess he did not care that I was creeped out.

Today is different. I was waiting to get on the computer in the waiting room when I saw a girl in a dancers outfit. She had on tight black see-through leggings with shorts and a white tank top. you could see her blue strapped bra beneath it. She visited the rest room for a few minutes and after she got out began to gather her belongings. I was disappointed she was leaving the waiting area thinking my chances to check her out were gone. I regretted not staring at her from behind while she bent over to pick up her purse. I knew there was no chance she could see me looking at her but if I timed it wrong when she turned around she would see me turning away so quickly that she would know all I was doing was checking out her firm legs and butt the whole time she was bending over.

Instead I silently resigned myself to watching her walk away. She ran her hands through her shoulder length hair frequently, fluffing out the thin strands to give them extra volume. I like when woman play with their hair. I watched her walk away, but to my surprise she walked directly over to the one free computer in the lab. She smiled at me on her way out after I gave her my trademark shy, toothless grin.

She must have a reservation in the computer lab. I had thought I might jump on the very computer she walked over to and try to use my reservation to get on it. I was glad I didn't. My computer reservation turned out to be right next to hers and just after my new fantasy girlfriend sat down at her computer the patron using my computer was kicked off the computer because her time was up. I really can't check my fantasy g/f out too much without her noticing me so I am left to the mental image in my head. I don't want to peek over sideways and give her the creeps.

a QUICK SELF HELP GUIDE ON GAWKING AT THE LADIES

Normally if I see a girl in a revealing outfit I stare at her because I assume she went to all the trouble getting her goods out there so she must want me to look. When I am out at a bar and drunk I will usually say something like, "damn...them is some big titties!" To this day I have not been slapped. Sometimes the girl will blush and then look down at the floor. But most times the girl gives me an extra show or brushes her chest against me. She then thanks me for the compliment. I know a lot of guys who think that kind of display at a women is disrespectful, but there are mostly wrong about that. I mean "the truth" is that it is very disrespectful, but most of the women go for it. They are not alarmed by my behavior but in fact welcome it and in many cases are seeking it out. They may not be thrilled that they got the attention of the short ugly guy. But they like knowing that they can get attention. That all the effort they put into looking good worked.

I bring this up to tell you why I did not stare down the woman in the dancers outfit. I assumed she was attending some yoga class at the library or senior center next door. Either that or she just came from school where she takes a dance class.

If my impression was right then she was dressed sexily for function. She was wearing the uniform of dance and not being provocative. If a women has no intention of being provocative...let's say she is not some kind of Lactating Bi Sexual Asian Twincest Porn actress... then I don't want to make her feel uncomfortable. On the other hand if she really is a Twin Lactating Asian Porn actress... then I want to marry her and her sister and have them cuckold me.

But to each his own.

I wonder if I could make this post more meta by adding a parenthesis (I never said I was quitting you)

I don't mean to panic people. I know you all look forward to reading my daily diary and having my brain inculcate my world view upon you. Maybe that is because unlike some people I swing for the cheap seats and use my instrument like the two ton heavy thing it is. I bash your brains in while you read me and then I leave you stunned and stultified.You sit in awe of me because I know you never make it through an entire reading of mine without having an epiphany. I bet most of you forget to feed your dogs or your children as you gobble down at the mental breakfast I lay before you.

I don't know how you manage without me. The world around you is so god damned brain dead that you have to turn off your brain just to make it through the day. Nobody challenges you and I guess that's why you keep coming here even though all I do is make fun of you and showcase my brilliance over you and give you shuddering feelings of inadequacy.

You know a lot about feeling inadequate. You can't even urinate correctly. You sit on the toilet and dribble into your panties when you sit up because your bladder doesn't like to tell you when it is done peeing. I bet sometimes you "forget" to change your underwear even though you just pissed your pants. Quit calling it dribbling. What you did was piss your pants. Quit trying to tell yourself something different like maybe the new stars of Beverly Hills 90210 really are "too skinny for TV." Cut that shit out. There is no such thing as too skinny for TV. And there is no such thing as just dribbling pee.

They say the bitch on the left is skinny. I say I like a woman with an eating disorder. I know you like to say that you have an eating disorder too, but eating too much is not a disorder it's just gross. "Just like being able to count that bitches ribs." You reply. Yeah. Just keep telling yourself that. I think we all know better.

I don't have a sequeway for this, but I just took a big green shit. It was slimy and kind of nutty because I am eating sunflower seeds, because I just can't quit anything which when you think about it pretty much confirms why I am loser in the real world. Like you I am such a quitter that I can't even quit quitting.

I guess what I am saying is that I am not giving up on all of you quite yet. I will still post. I just am not going to be pushed around like all your other toys and be bullied into posting every day. Some days writing is a chore and lately those "some days" have gotten closer together and these days the chore of writing for you is a loud, noisy six year old throwing his spaghettio's on the floor and demanding more.

I get frustrated when I can't fix a blog post because I think I have failed you and I know I am the only person looking out for you. I have several posts sitting in hiatus like an unfunny sitcom on CBS. I still feel the need to fix them and no matter what the focus groups say I still think they can be tweaked and put on the air. I just know you are going to like all the new characters I have banished into blog purgatory. And even though I know you will love all my new characters once you get to know them. I am just not sure how to introduce you to a bunch of unlovable pedophiles. I worry you may not get it. Right now all I can do is tell you that Miley Cyrus is dating a much older man and you should probably not worry about her. At least don't worry about her as much as you should worry about yourself for needing me so much. But then again your neediness is the best thing about you.

I guess I am stuck with you.

That's why I love Dr. Von Monkeystein. He can't quit me even when I quit on him even when my quitting on him isn't so much quitting as resting as even God gets to rest on the sixth day but whatever I won't quit you, dude. I just can't.

I give up

A couple of days ago I wrote a great post about pedophiles. Blogger did not save it and I can't seem to be able to recreate the flow of the post. I don't have anything to write about other than the fire I spotted in the trashcan at work. I used a fire extinguisher to put out the smoke in the process creating a great deal more smoke because the fire extinguisher I used was a chemical based extinguisher and not foam or water based.

All I know is I breathed in a great deal of the chemicals and I am sure they cause cancer. If I die I want to be remembered like the hero I am. I want monuments and a statue outside of the grocery store. At the very least I should be employee of the month.

You may have noticed the slow down in posting. If I were you I would expect even more slowing. Getting up to go the library is a drag and blogger losing most of my last 2 posts is pissing me off.

Anyway I need to look for a second job and I will spend most of my time online at the library doing that. I probably won't post until I can afford to get a computer that works online and a connection that doesn't just tease me with the possibility.

If you are thinking I am just a quitter you are probably right. But i can't help who I am. God made me this way and I guess he just likes me better as a quitter and I am not really quitting blogging for good, I am just quitting until I get me some online access and a laptop.

I will check in on occasion, but I am guessing that it won't be as much as the last couple of months. And once I start working my second job I won't be blogging much at all I guess unless I find some time. I hope to work 5 days a week and have two days off so I can blog a bit for you. Maybe I will join a dating service and blog all my dates. I think that would be funny.

I HATE BLOGGER

I have a great post that has been ruined three times now by blogger. It won't let me edit. blogger keeps publishing an old version of the post and won't allow me to fix or edit anything. I will have to wait to later to post it.

Think of names for Card Shark's fiance. I will post a poll and we can vote on the best names.

I need to get used to the idea that the whole world loves me and by the "world" I mean a bunch of cyber stalking pedophiles

I guess I should apologize. The world loves me and I have a ton of readers. I know the whole world loves me because a creepy 54 year old left me a comment on my blog telling me that I am "much more popular than I think" because he estimates that I have like 50 to 100 readers. I don't know how he knows so much about my readers, but if you head over to his Geocities website (which looks like it was designed by a 13 year old girl) you will notice that he uses an RSS feed to funnel my blog's content to his "massive" readership. Which (sadly) is larger than mine because I have had at least 5 redirects from his website to mine this week. I know when I redirect my readers to another blog that blog is lucky if one person clicks on the link.

I don't know if I am as beloved by the public as I am told but either way I guess I am a magnet for pedophiles because the guy sitting next to me at the public library computer terminal is looking at porn. He is also overly interested in my online bill pay for my truck insurance. At first I thought he was in the industry and wanted to sell me a quote, but it turns out he is just gay and 50 year old gay men think I am hot. So if this whole never getting a girlfriend thing keeps happening to me at least I know I can run for president of the gay pedophiles or something as gray haired old gay men want to fuck me.


I guess that is why they lean over and wink at me and talk to me in hushed tones about the non-importance of certain policy provisions for car insurance and then they don't blink when I notice the picture of the huge cock they have up on their second window tab of explorer. I guess pedophiles love the giant cock on their adult lovers as much as they like hairless inchworms on their rape victims.

I know what you are going to say," Aren't you a pedophile because you love jail bait?" Sure, I love jail bait, but the jail bait I love is all female and over the age of consent in Georgia which is were I would move to if I really only liked jail bait, but the sad truth of it is that I can get off some on older women too. And if you knew anything about pedophiles you would know I don't have the same kind of sick fetish that those 54 year old gay men do. I like women of breeding age. If you are menstruating and exhibit the secondary sexual characteristics that are part of god's plan to alert the human male to the possibility that a girl has become biologically "a women" then I can fall in love with you. Or at least I can become sexually aroused by your body. But if in fact you are below the legal age then I can keep it all to myself. I don't need to statutorily rape you. I mean I can live with the fantasy and by fantasy I don't mean I need to sit across from junior high schools masturbating in my car so I can cum on my steering wheel whenever I watch pre-teens bend over to pick up their school books.

You might call me perverted but accidentally meeting perverts at the library is disturbing. When I go to the public library I don't need to look at porn because it kinda creeps me out to look at porn in public. Probably because I do not have a high tolerance for shame. I guess that is why I hide myself at home instead of hitting the bars and looking for women. I don't need your judgement telling me how hideous I am. I will just sit at home and masturbate and then ejaculate myself into Dixie cups so I don't mess the new carpet.

I am such a good boy.

*I lost this post and so I have tried to reconstrcut it from memory. All I can say is that maybe you can see what I was going for and that is the only reason I went ahead and posted it.

I don't know why I blog when the whole world is against me

I am not a bad guy. I stick around the house to make sure the shutter guy does not rape my friend's fiance rather than eat lunch and blog for you. I am not sure why I even blog. I mean I have my 5 readers according to blogger, but other than those 5 people the rest of the world does not get it. I am not going to make a living at blogging and I will never get around to writing a book so I think this whole thing is kinda pointless.

I am sure the world thinks so too. I was at the condo checking things out while the Fro is out working on the Dharma Initiative. I unplugged most of the stuff in the house to make sure the electric bill would not be so high. The fro has cable but he has no internet access for some reason. I was going to be disappointed about that but then I thought better of it. There is no reason to have such high hopes and expectations anymore. Leman Brothers is collapsing. John McCain is going to be the President. Sarah Palin will be on her second term in 2016.

I think there must be some kind of conspiracy to keep me off the internet. Mrs. Shark (who wants her own name) thinks Cox Cable must have some kind of security device on the internet and she thinks that's why the internet is down. Which means Cox might have to come out or something in order to fix the whole no internet thing.

When I don't get the internet you get posts like this one and the post I made of the little girl with a broken balloon. I remember now that I was going to write about how the little girl was sad and that because I could not fix her balloon there was another female in the world that I had let down and then I was going to go off on a rant about how pathetic I am and how women always figure it out and then I was going to talk to you about dreamers and how America hates them and I was going to tie that all into a discussion of the Hegelian antinomy "real is rational/the rational is real." But you aren't going to get that now because I have to type all this shit at the library I am late for work. You should really feel ashamed that you have not promoted this website more. I need a few million hits so I can make some money on this blog. Otherwise it will be soon time to get a second job as a nightwatchman somewhere. I will probably get shot and then you will have to go back to reading romance novels and picking your toes. I hope that happens to you. I think you deserve it.

Things to think about:

Is nightwatchman all one word?
Does the world care any longer about Hegel?
Are you a dreamer or a pragmatist?
Are women attracted to dreamers only to become disillusioned as soon as they realize that the dreamer is just a dreamer and not an action person?
Can a person be moved to tears by sticking to set of abstract principles so intangible they seem nonsensical to the normal person?

You know it is a sad day when a little girl cries to get her broken balloon back

I don't mean the little girl is crying because her balloon is broken. The little girl has accepted that the balloon is broken. She cries because it has been taken away from her and she wants it back. The little girl is a year old and she is deformed. She sits in the front seat of her shopping cart. Her chubby cheeks are wet from tears. She is unfazed by her want and unconcerned with its naked appearance on her countenance. All she knows is she wants her broken balloon back and she does not want to wait for me to fix it or to ring up the purchase.

As soon as she gets her balloon things wiil be ok.

Maybe I wrote about that little girl because I am just like her. I want my internet. I bought the wireless adapter, but it did not work. I took it back to Walmart and I think I will need tio use the money I got back to buy some gas. I still can't get the internet and I don't know if it because I don't know how to connect the computer to the internet, or if the adapter I bought did not work. Maybe there is something wrong with the computer because it does not have a built in modem.

I have given up on this computer though. I am going to try and get my money back fromt the computer store I bought it at. Most likely they will not let me and I will end up spending more money for a laptop that I cannot afford. I get suckered easliy in sales situations. I think that is why I always get buyers remorse. I am so frustrated with trying to get access to the internet that I did not want to post anything today. So if this post sucks mopre than usual you know why.


Another reason today is sad is I learned that David Foster Wallace committed suicide. I might not show it in my writing but I love his style and sense of humor. A while back I refrenced the depends undergarment as a sly homage to Infinite Jest. The book takes place in the Year of the Dpends Undergarment. A sad day indeed. We will miss you David. My deepest sympathies are sent out to your family and friends.

I am forced to blog at a public library, but at least I get to sit next to a lesbian with bad acne who wears a scarf to hide her hideous head

I am back at the public library because I can't seem to figure out how to get my computer hooked up to the Internet. Like America in 2000 I need Al Gore, but I won't get him. Unlike America in 2000 I won't get George Bush either, but I may get a look at some lesbian bush as the girl who is sitting next to me at the computer terminal is a lesbian. I know she must be a lesbian because of the way she dresses. She dresses like a boy, but she is wearing some kind of scarf on her head to hide her short hair, and she is typing away on some instant messenger service because lesbians hook up by chatting on instant message platforms. I see this lesbian web surfer every time I go the library. I feel connected to her enough to make fun of her and that is the biggest compliment I can give a person.

I bought a wireless Internet adapter for my 99 dollar computer. I spent 50 dollars on it and I still can't connect to the Internet. I don't know if I bought a crappy Internet connector, but I know that I was not picking up any signals outside my house. That should not matter as I have cable and a wireless modem so I should be able to pick up the wireless signal from my house. For some reason that may have to do with me being a moron, I have been unable to connect the signal from the wireless router to my wireless USB plug in adapter. I think I need to first connect a cable modem to the wireless router. Only thing is the wireless router connects to the cable line and the router connects to my computer so I don't think that is the problem. I was pretty sure that Card Shark's computer was not hooked up to a cable modem just the wireless router. I guess I could dig around the computer boxes again, or ask Card Shark for some advice, but I am sure Card Shark paid someone to connect his computer. I wished I could do the same.

I am at a loss to explain why I can't get the Internet and I am getting frustrated. I get frustrated easily and it is the one time I act like regular person. I have spent more time on getting wireless that I have spent donating time to the needy. I just really want the Internet. I am addicted. I can't believe I wake up 3 hours early for work just so I can get my fix. But I think I am on a runners high when it comes to writing and I want to write everyday even if my writing is no good. I just don't like writing in a vacuum or with a pen and paper any more. I guess I could use my computer's word program and type, but then I would not have all your wonderful comments and feedback I get from you my lovely fan girls.

I am think I am beginning to get buyers remorse over my computer purchase. I always get buyers remorse no matter what I buy. I can never be satisfied with whatever I have purchased. i know there is always something better out there for a lower price. I think that is why I can't stay in a relationship. I am sure something better is coming along. I am sure my new model girlfriend will come with oral sex this time.

I know I only spent a hundred dollars on the computer. But I saw a number of laptops for a hundred and fifty dollars on craigslist. I could have bought a used laptop that came with a wireless card inside it. I could have taken the laptop to the library or some other wifi area and stayed as long as I wanted and I would not have to worry about public computer time limits. Instead I am stuck with a computer that warns me about a fan failure whenever it starts up. I do have a 90 day warranty. I think I will try taking my computer back. I know he will allow me trade in the computer for a model who's fan works. He will even let me trade it in for credit against another computer system. I would buy one of the store's laptops but they all start around three hundred dollars. That is just a bit out of my reach. I am going to be moving soon and I will need to save money for a deposit if I move out on my own. If I move in with the fro I will need money as well.

I think all my readers should send their favorite episode of the podcast to every member of their e-mail contacts with a suggestion that if the listener likes the podcast they should donate 1 dollar for every episode they download. If you all place advertisements on your heavily viewed blogs I am sure I would be set up quickly with enough money for gas to get me back to the library. Either that or I could become of those stupid success stories you read about where a guy puts up a website where people can buy 1 dollar spaces so he can become a millionaire. All I want is a used laptop so I can keep the podcast going and continue with all the posting I am doing. If I can get 1,000 donors I could get a I-Mac or something. Think about it. I know some guy who got 5,000 dollars donated so he could go to school. If I get 2,000 dollars in donations I will finish the 2 classes I need to take to get my AA degree from community college. Is that enough of an enticement? Do you want to see me naked? I recently trimmed some of my pubes if that is what you perverts need.

AND NOW A FEW ANSWERS ABOUT THE PODCAST

Some one asked me how the podcast is coming along. I can't upload or record new podcasts without Internet access at home. My podcast is ranked with a score of 2.97 out of possible 5 stars. To get ranked in the top 50 of podcasts (and thereby promoted on the website over at Switchpod.com) I need a score of 2.98. Just a couple of 5 star ratings from some of my readers would blast me back to the top of the podcast world again. My podcast has been delivering around 200 downloads a month even without staying in the top 50.

The podcast is drawing some interest without any new episodes. I have more downloads this month already than I did in all of the month of August, so I think you know what that means. The Self Help Podcast (check out the link on the sidebar) is going to take off soon. I will be asked to do a 3 minute rant on IFC's Henry Rollins Show. From there I am sure Mr. Rollins will want to produce my very own radio talk show. I will be getting famous soon and I will be leaving all you losers. Don't blame me when you spend your kids lunch money on a new Sirius subscription so you can listen to my new show. If your husband gets pissed off at you for spending so much money on yourself just tell him the reason your vagina has been so frothy lately is because listening to me tell the truth turns you on. I am willing to bet that your husband does not want to return to the days of the pre-frothy vagina. Not with all the pussy eating he is then required to get you steamy.

My computer can't find the Internet and the power goes out at my store. I warn shoppers that I am just grabbing whatever comes near me.

My computer is sitting on the floor in my bedroom closet. Soon it will be gathering dust. It will sit in there underappreciated like all my forgotten short stories or like the archives of this blog. I think they serve no purpose other than to let foreigners find out the latest scoop on Kara Borden.

I tried hooking my computer up last night. At first I could not get the keyboard to work, but eventually I got the computer hooked up and running. Next I tried hooking up the cable modem to my computer. I know card shark has a wireless modem and I plugged the cable wire into it and plugged the modem into the back of my computer. My computer says I was hooked up the Internet, but I guess I don't know something about computers because Explorer could not find the Internet. All I know is that I kept getting a message that said Internet connection not found. I am not sure if I need to have Cox come out and set things up or if only his computer is set up to run on his LAN line. I threw all that jargon out like I know what I am talking about. I don't. All I know is I don't have Internet.

My only other option would be to buy a wireless card to see if I can steal the Internet from some sucker nearby. I know a few of the houses have been stealing the Internet from Card Shark's computer so it would only be fair. Maybe the wireless modem does not hook up to a regular desk top. Maybe the wireless card will let me hook up to the wireless modem. As you can see I am monkey sitting in the dark on theses kind of things. I need to marry a computer wiz kid girl.

I dated one once. Jenn would have been able to help me this problem. Also she was bi-sexual so she was always into getting a threesome. I never got one with her even though we dated for a few months. Bi-sexual chicks are like that with me. All talk and no action.

The one time she did have some action she hooked up with a girl on the internet and wanted me to drive her half way around town to meet her. I had a job at the Self Help Center and Law Library at the time and had to wake up in a few hours at 6:30 in the morning. I told her no, some other time. She threw a fit and got pissy with me, but she did not have a car.

I went to bed and that is when she turned her attention to my roommate. She buttered up the FRO with talk of lesbian sex. She left with FRO to her friends house while I was sleeping in my room. FRO is a sucker for lesbians and I think he got to watch her make out for a while. They took off to the other girl's bedroom and got down to the nasty without him which disappointed him to no end. At least he did not get the threesome I had worked so hard to set up.

I woke up that morning to go to work and found that Jenn was gone. I looked over at the computer and it still had her instant message up about leaving with the FRO and meeting her friend. In the message she talked quite a bit of trash about me and mentioned something about being so angry with me she wanted to hit me in the head with a bat while I slept. If you need Jenn you would know that was no idle threat.

Because of the e-message I broke up with Jenn when I got home from work. I told FRO he could take her home, "I was going to work." When I got home FRO was nowhere to be found but a messy faced, crying Jenn was. I drove her home in silence and dropped her off. We spoke in e-mail once or twice, but that was about the last I heard of her.

I think I digressed into one of my Lesbians have sex with each other but not me stories. I have plenty if you want more. But I guess I should talk to you about the power going out at my store.

The power went out at my store. It was chaos. The registers crashed in the middle of several orders. Whenever the back up generators cut on they crashed the remaining registers. Eventually we got everybody out of the store and were sent to work placing plastic wrap around the deli case, meat and dairy aisles. I have no idea if all our hard work helped. But an hour into the process the power finally jumped back on and we had to take it all down.

A few workers wondered if we were going to close the store for the night. I just laughed and told them that for Americans, they did not have a very good grasp of Capitalism.

It was busy the rest of the night and I had to bag groceries myself.

I just bought a new computer and by new computer I mean a used computer for 99 bucks

No thanks to you of course. You are all poor and have no idea how to use pay pal to send me money. Also many of you consider this blog to be a simple diversion from your hectic real lives and fail to comprehend how powerful and important the writing you read here is. You are used to getting every thing you want for free on the Internet and you see no reason to pay for anything since you already pay for Internet service.

I understand that. That is why I continue to give away all this for free and why I spend 80% of my wealth on the Internet and buying computers in order to keep this blog and podcast coming to you, my ungrateful reader. For instance, I noticed that one voter on my poll had the guts to ask me to post more often with better quality. I applaud you sir, or madam. I will do my best. One day I will post a blog with quality and with the frequency you and the advertisers of the world demand. I will then get rich and when I get rich I will hold it over all your heads. I will make sure I knew that you never supported me, that you never believed in me. I will ignore you at all the blogger conventions you go to, to see me.

I will go to work now. Tonight I will try and hook my computer up to my Card Shark's modem. If I am able to that I will post again. I will post so fucking much your heads will spin. One day I will appreciated. One day I will be great. I just hope some of you losers live long enough to see it.

Instead of getting forwarded e-mails I decide to write my own chain letter

Updated and now complete with the chain e-mail I sent out!

I get those chain e-mails from my parents. Since my parents are kinda slutty and get married every couple of years I have a lot of step parents and since I have a lot of step parents I get a lot of chain e-mails. Most of my family is from the South and that means they are conservative. I am not sure how they raised a son that became a Marxist but I credit their parenting style which was one of neglect coupled with a 70's Southern Baptist tradition of strict separation of church and state.

My parents (like most baptists) thought that if you died before reaching the age of 7 none of your sins counted. And since they were Baptists they felt that accepting god was an individuals choice. A person had to come to know and accept God personally and any attempt at making the choice for the individual risked that person's salvation. It was better to let your children wander away from God in hopes that he would call them back than to have your children follow the religion in name only.

I am not always proud of my parents, but I felt they never pressured me into any religion. I think they just took it for granted that I would believe in god. I know they never asked me what I believed as a child and they never spoke openly about the importance of religion or belief. I might as well have been born into a post religious family.

My interpretation of the events of my childhood might sound strange if we just looked at the facts. I started school by attending a Baptist themed Kindergarten. I did not graduate with full honors because I was unable to recall certain psalms and other religious requirements. I got to walk with the other kids, but I think I was handed a blank white paper instead of a diploma. I recall my father getting very angry about that. I remember the drive home. My father was screaming at my mother. "How dare they not graduate my son!" I remember being afraid. A child is always frightened by his father's anger. I also remember being proud in a strange way. My dad was sticking up for me. He called me his son. I did not always feel that way. I was told at an early age my father was not my biological father, and I was always jealous of my blood brothers connection to the only man I knew as dad.

I failed the requirements to pass a religious school because my family did not practice much religion. I am sure we were the only family attending that school that did not have a bible reading every morning or afternoon. We attended church somewhat regularly until I was 7 years of age, mostly oit of respect to my grandmother. My father never attended church with the family, but he worked 6 or 7 days a week and drank heavily and was often not home on the weekend. My dad was gone a lot of weekends because he enjoyed the company of women he would meet at grubby cowboy bars. After my parents divorced he would take my brother and me along with him to the bars when he was forced to watch us on the weekends. Maybe that is why I love local dive bars to this day.

So I guess you should really blame my failure to graduate kindergarten (which would later become a recurring theme in my life) on my parents. They did not force me to read the bible or attend church camps like my friend, Arlin, the nerdy religious child of my grandmother's next door neighbor.

All I know is that the next year I was taken out of religious school. I know my parents complained to my grandmother that the private school told me that Santa was not real and the Easter Bunny was fake. I am sure going to that school was my grandmother's idea. I am glad I went in some ways. I learned to read quite well in kindergarten so I was way ahead of the 1st graders in public school who were just learning to read. My brother (shadetree) claims my tutelage in the private academy started me in my academic success. My Arizona friends would be shocked to know that until 10th grade I got straight A's. I was placed in advanced classes in the sixth grade after taking a I.Q. test.

I recall the test giver being surprised that I knew how many feet were in a mile. He was shocked when I was able to take a lengthy paragraph about trains and say it backwards. It was years later that I learned in a community college Intro to Psychology course that backwards questions were weighted with double points. I was told by my instructor that I was the first student he had ever had who had been able to complete the task.

I am sure my head start reading in first grade was helpful, but I know the difference between learning a skill and passion. I have a passion for reading that was not taught or given to me but which is as natural to my nature as drinking coke.

My family is the kind of family that wonders about a boy who likes to sit in his room and read. I do recall that when I poured over the family's ancient set of encyclopedias and almanacs I was viewed with suspicion, but was forgiven since it the time could be applied to school and learning. If I read for pleasure I was considered a loner and lazy.

The one time my reading made a hit was while I was living in Colorado with my mother. We moved to Colorado on a whim with hopes that the Reagan recession was not as bad there as it was in Texas where we were living through another oil bust.

My mother moved our family along with and her two sisters and their families. All 16 people shared a 2 bedroom apartment for a few months in order to save money for the trip. I remember our car broke down halfway to Colorado with a full tank of gas in it and I recall that the full tank of gas to be the most upsetting thing for my parents. We drove the rest of the way in my Aunt Jeans pick up truck, sharing the pickups camper bed with what belongings we can store. Most of stuff was placed in a storage unit. Included in the storage unit was my Mr. Smiley doll that I had owned since I was little and my first rocking chair. My parents were unable to make payments on the storage unit and we lost most of things. I remember being shocked that the world could take the things you cherished the most from you. I lived a sheltered life I guess. I was never one to feel insecure as kid. I thought my parents could protect me from the world. It turns out that my parents were not very good at shielding themselves from the cruelty of the world.

I don't know if that is the reason my parents don't like people on food stamps or any other kind of government aid. I know that many times in my life I wished my parents would have been less proud and accepted some help. Instead the power was always going out and anonymous boxes of food and clothes would be left on our doorsteps. I guess my parents thought that was better.

IF YOU WANT TO UNDERSTAND WHY WORKING PEOPLE DON'T SUPPORT THE DEMOCRATS YOU NEED TO READ THE FOLLOWING PARAGRAPHS

Actually just go to this awesome read here. It is kinda long but it makes the points I make in the language of academia. I must insist that you read it. Go now.

My parents are also not very interested in facts or fact based evaluations of policy. I know this because I my parents listen to their gut just like George Bush does. Listening to your gut means that anything counter intuitive the human mind seems foreign to them and anything foreign probably is dangerous and needs to be killed. My parents won't vote for Obama because he is a Muslim, because he is black, and because he is all about the big government hand outs to poor people who don't want to work. My parents don't want to hear that most aid goes to children, the elderly and the infirmed. They know it goes to lazy Mexicans who can't stop breeding. They know it goes to the crack dealer down the street.

My parents know this because all the minorities they know get welfare. They also know that they never qualify for government aid. Most working class people fall in the empty space between self sufficiency and desperate need. Most working people earn too much to qualify for food stamps but don't earn enough to buy food that is healthy and good for the environment. They live off bologna sandwiches and McDonald's. The buy their kids cereal and hope the milk lasts the whole week.

I can't blame working people for being upset about their situation. I don't mind working class anger. As a Marxist not only do I expect it, I want to cultivate it. I just wished working people's anger could be turned against the Republicans (aka the ruling class if you want your Marxist to speak jargon) who spend 600 billion dollars on the military a year, but scoff at funding 40 billion for food stamps and college aid. We should be demanding more from our leaders, not less. We spent a trillion dollars invading a country that did not attack us. That trillion dollars is enough money to insure every child with health care for a decade. A trillion dollars in enough to give every homeless person a home. A trillion dollars is enough money to pay for Pell grants for 25 years. Instead we are asked to believe that the deaths of 4,000 American service men and thousands of Iraqi civilians means something.

Our leaders throw our money away and working people instinctively understand this. That is why working people want to keep their money and hate paying taxes. Working people rarely see how taxes benefit them. They know desperate (or malingers) can get some help. They know that the rich always get richer. All they know is that being working class gets harder every year. Gas and rent prices go higher, but their salaries never seem to catch up. Food costs rise and cutting coupons no longer helps. We eat beans and rice and chicken.

I know that being a member of the working class is hard. Sometimes just getting up to go to work is difficult. Nobody gives the worker respect these days and the pay you bring home does not afford you even the simple dignities of an earlier time. A place to call your own. A secure retirement and benefits that do force you to lean on family and the state.

But working people have a calling. Karl Marx knew that. Things will only get better if working people band together. It takes energy and commitment to locate the true enemies of working people. It takes a strong will and willingness to see the counter intuitive. Working people need to understand the errors that our brains make in logic and thinking. We cannot examine the world from just our experiences. We must trust logic, science and the empirical descriptions of the world that violate everything our guts tell us.

Barack Obama will lower working people's taxes more than John McCain. I know that does not square with what most working people feel. But working people need to stop feeling so much. They need to avoid emotional conclusions. They need to look to facts and logic. That is not to say the rich are logical and the poor are irrational. I don't believe that for a second and it was not the point I was trying to make. My point is that the rich can afford to be irrational. The working poor cannot.

So here is at long last the copy of the e-mail I sent to my parents. If you want send this e-mail or website to those republicans on your e-mail that annoy you by sending you copies of Sarah Palin is a wonderful human and never lies about putting her airplane on E-Bay. I think they deserve it. I know it sounds like I am talking down to my fellow working class members, but I hope I am not. And if I am. Well sometimes they need to be. That is what Obama means by stop holding on to your guns and religion. Sometimes you need to examine the world from a scientific and reasoned perspective. Actually you probably need to all the time. But let's start at least at problems in the real world need to be addressed by real factors in the real world with real solutions, not blame. Maybe you should include this post with the email. I am considering sending it to my family who will be horrified that I talked about our poverty.

The E-mail was:

A little known website that allows you to see how much of a tax cut you will get if Barack Obama is elected. Did you know that 95% of all tax payers will get a tax cut with Barrack Obama Tax Plan? Go calculate your tax cut at the website below!

http://alchemytoday.com/obamataxcut/

According to the Chicago Sun Times an independent tax group found that:

"The rich would pay more under Barack Obama's tax plan, and the poor and middle-class would pay less, a nonpartisan analysis finds. Under John McCain's plan, the rich would pay much less than they do now, the poor and middle-class would pay a bit less, and the federal deficit would grow, the study found."

Barack Obama's Plan to Provide Middle Class Americans Tax Relief:

Obama will cut income taxes by $1,000 for working families to offset the payroll tax they pay. Provide a Tax Cut for Working Families: Obama will restore fairness to the tax code and provide 150 million workers the tax relief they need.

Obama will create a new "Making Work Pay" tax credit of up to $500 per person, or $1,000 per working family.

The "Making Work Pay" tax credit will completely eliminate income taxes for 10 million Americans. Eliminate Income Taxes for Seniors Making Less than $50,000:

Barack Obama will eliminate all income taxation of seniors making less than $50,000 per year. This proposal will eliminate income taxes for 7 million seniors and provide these seniors with an average savings of $1,400 each year.

Under the Obama plan, 27 million American seniors will also not need to file an income tax return. Simplify Tax Filings for Middle Class Americans: Obama will dramatically simplify tax filings so that millions of Americans will be able to do their taxes in less than five minutes.

Obama will ensure that the IRS uses the information it already gets from banks and employers to give taxpayers the option of pre-filled tax forms to verify, sign and return.

Experts estimate that the Obama proposal will save Americans up to 200 million total hours of work and aggravation and up to $2 billion in tax preparer fees. I should point out that if you make 5 million dollars or more a year then might want to consider voting for McCain. Otherwise if all you care about is your money, then voting Republican if you are middle class or poor is against your economic interests.
Objections:

Republicans are for smaller government Really? Did the government get smaller during Reagan, Bush I or II? Federal Spending increased dramatically.

Deregulation? Did not reduce the number of laws under republican presidents (again a dramatic increase). Deregulation allows companies and lobbyists to write the laws instead of a watch dog government. That is why we got the savings and loan disaster (Bush). That is why we ENRON. (Bush II)That is why we get housing collapse.

PASS THIS ALONG. LET PEOPLE KNOW THE TRUTH ABOUT TAXES. McCAIN WILL RAISE YOUR TAXES. OBABMA WILL NOT RAISE TAXES ON THE POOR AND MIDDLE CLASS

I have another mantastic day. I solve mysteries. I can change the air filter in my truck. Trust me you want me on your side when it all goes down.

I am juiced. I have had a lot of caffeine today, but do not take what comes next as some kind of hallucination, as some kind of misperception of reality. I am mantastic. I can't help it. Get over it.

I took the truck to get an oil change. I got overcharged by three dollars. Walmart is a racket. According to the technicians who changed my oil several of my fluids where overfilled at the last oil change. My last oil change was at Walmart, though not the Walmart where I got my oil changed today. I wonder if I can sue. On the drive home a rock ricocheted at my window causing me to hear a loud cracking sound and so now I am wondering when the glass to my windshield is going to cave in. Even though the noise was loud and there were cars all around me I was able to safely keep control of the vehicle and prevent any further damage or accidents.

The walmart printout told me that I needed to get my air filter replaced. If there is one thing I think I know how to do it is replace an air filter.

THE SELF HELP GUIDE TO REPLACING AIR FILTERS FOR THE NON-MANTASTIC

Even a girl should be able to replace her air filter. If you take a car into the repair shop and they say they want to charge you money for replacing your air filter I want you to look them straight in the face and tell them to fuck off.

You can replace an air filter even if you don't know where your current air filter is housed. I did. So I know you can do it. I will teach you. I walked into the Auto Zone and asked the attendant to look up the type of air filter I needed for my truck. All you need to know is the year, make and model of your vehicle. If you don't know this ask your dad or your boyfriend. Or just go look at the trunk of your car. It will say something like 2009 Honda fit or something gay like that.

Once you have the replacement air filter, spotting the air filter housing is easy. Most of the times the air filter is right on top of the engine in a round container. At least it was in all my dad's old cars and trucks. It usually has a a screw on top that you can loosen and the top lifts right off. You will not likely need any tools for this.

But sometimes it is more tricky. Use the shape of the replacement air filter and compare it to the objects under the hood of your car. My air filter was located on the left hand side against the wall of the engine compartment. (see photo) The air filter compartment had two hooks that needed to be unlatched and then the compartment needed to be detached from the other side. When I did this the air filter was exposed. I took it out and the technician was correct. The filter was massively dirty. It was dirty despite the fact that the Mormon mechanic Card Shark trusts was supposed to have changed it a few months back. Unlike the rather naive Card Shark, I do not trust mormons to do repair work for me as I am not a mormon and mormons only look after their own. It looked as if the filter had been there for some time. I replaced the white filter with an orange Fram CA 9563 heavy duty air filter. This air filter kicks ass. It promised to be twice as good as my puny 1 year normal duty air filter. Cost was $14.99 plus tax.

What you don't want to read is my review of my oil change if you work in the Walmart corporate office.

Oil change was 36 dollars and included 10 ball point pens for 44 cents (nice sale), a large container of knock off Oil of Olay body wash, and one of those gay scrubby things I pretend I don't use to scrub away the rough skin I get for being manly by working on my truck and using rough pumice soap to get the grease off my hands. I repeat that I was over charged by three dollars for the oil change which was supposed to be 26.99, but inexplicable was priced at 29.99 on my receipt. In addition my windshield was not cleaned despite the fact that the service I pay for included it. The car was properly vacuumed. The front tires where inflated improperly to 35 inches despite the warning on the inside of the truck door requiring the front tires to be inflated to only 30 psi. 4.9 quarts of oil was added to the vehicle and the technician noted that at the last oil change (at walmart) the vehicle was over filled. I hope that is not bad. I have no idea if it is as it has nothing to do with air filters and changing air filters is all I know. Well that and changing batteries of course.

I solve Mysteries like I am one of the Scooby Do gang.

My time is being cut off. I must end this post abruptly.**

**I am back. I went down stairs and used my connections (I am mantastic like that) and got hooked up with an additional hour of Internet service. I know the library offers two hours of Internet service in one hour blocks a day. Most days waiting for the second reservation takes too long and I end up shuffling off to work with just an hour for online time. Today is my first day off in 15 days so I plan on using all this spare time to be online. I think I could probably get a third hour since my friend at work did not use my library card to get a reservation for me.

My computer is located across from a young woman wearing a blue tank top. She is either Native American, Mexican, or Indian. Either way she has tremendous cleavage. She is chewing bubble gum and I would place her age at 17 plus or minus 2. Her cleavage had a hint of a tan line suggesting that her natural color was less carmel than the exposed skin showed. I found that prospect to be alluring. I was reminded of a conversation I had with Card Shark last night while playing poker. We talked about how white people identify non-whites. I told him the secret to understanding how white people determine if you are white is that if you have any hint of color you are considered a colored person. I exposed my under arm to him and told him, "now this is white." I relayed to him a story about when I met my wife. She asked me if I could tell if she was Mexican when I first met her. I remember laughing at loud. "Of course I did." I told her while trying to catch my breath.

"It's just that I am light skinned." She replied. I think she was a bit hurt that I could not have mistaken her for being a white girl. She told me how her fellow Mexicans thought she looked white and did not accept her for being truly brown. I told her she had nothing to worry about as any white person could clearly see she was all Mexican. I think she took the news badly as I think my wife liked the idea that she could pass as a white girl. I know she liked that her married name (and her very white girl sounding first name) made everyone who met her for the first time believe they were going to meet a white girl.

i MAY NOT OWN A VAN BUT i HAVE A MYSTERY MACHINE OF MY OWN

I knocked a few times at the door. Fro's mom finally answered. She met me at the door fully dressed.* I guess that is what took her so long to answer. She let me know what is going on and so I have solved the mystery of the missing fro. He is no longer missing and is doing as well as can be expected.

*This is an inside joke among my friends. When I spoke to some of them about talking to the fro's mom they all wondered if she came to the door, "fully dressed?" I answered in the affirmative and I suppose that must be the reason my knocking took a full 4 minutes to get an answer.*

I knocked on the door for a few minutes without an answer and decided to give up. I walked back to the truck but then turned around and decided to give it another try. A shy voice asked me, "who's there?" I replied with my name and an assurance that I was a white person and some white people don't want to kill you. In the background of my mind I heard every song I know with the word "ghetto" in it. I was apprehensive that the door was taking so long to open. I looked around nervously from side to side at the neighborhood. A number of cars where parked on the grass in the house next to me. I drove past a house in the neighborhood that had a TV and couch on the front lawn. I tried to remain calm. I knew I had a duty to my best friend. I tried to remember that is was only 20 years ago that I too lived in this neighborhood, not 4 streets away. During the wait I took comfort knowing that I was good with mechanics and could replace an air filter. Surely anybody eyeing me from a distance could discern such a thing. I knew I could fit in here.

The door opened.

The inside of the house was exactly the same as it was during my teen years. We were never allowed inside the Fro's home as kids. I think he was embarrassed of how most of his siblings were nudists. The house is still cluttered with rows of romance novels. Enough romance novels to start a books store with. In fact more romance novels than most books stores would keep. All the novels have been read by the Fros' Mom over the years. She reads more romance novels than any other human I know. I would consider her a grand expert on the topic with an almost encyclopedic knowledge of them all. Wikipedia should get a hold of the Fro's mom.

Unfortunately her genius in regards to the genre of romance novels does not translate into a knowlede of cell phones. She cannot remember her phone number and can't pull up the contact function to write my number down. I do get her home phone number from her which was just an area code off from what I remembered the number to be in high school. I told the family that I would do my best to settle everything that is going on. I don't want the fro to stay lost forever. The fro has stated that I am able to move in at anytime and I can request a key from (I am unable to get L. (fro's mom) to tell me the name correctly). I am sure I could get a key from the owner of the condo. But Married Guy has suggested that his parents no longer posses the key. I will need to confirm that later.

I do have Mrs. Card Shark looking for apartments nearby my work and she has located a few starting around my budget of 400 dollars a month. I may end up in one of those depending on a number of factors which I won't get into despite the fact that I have not really fictionalized some of this enough and maybe some of you will get what is going on and I hope that none of the fro's friends are reading this because I don't want to piss him off, but as far as I know the only person who reads this blog who might know the fro is card shark and I am not sure how often any one else reads this blog.

Maybe if you know me in real life you will drop me an e-mail and tell me that you read the blog.

I work 15 days in a row so please stop buying groceries

The Mexicans unplugged my stove so I can only eat fast food and the pizza bagel bites stored in my freezer which say that they can be heated in a toaster oven.

I still have no word from FRO. I am officially worried. I will be headed over to his parents house on my day off tomorrow.

The Mexicans are fixing the tree that fell over from the latest storm. It looks like it is going to rain today. The clouds are big and swollen purple like my testicles.

I was at the library yesterday, but I did not write a post on this blog. I posted a video of Sarah Palin talking at her church. I find religious people creepy. You could go visit the Bathos blog if you want. I think I get like 10 hits a day now since people noticed I don't blog there. I kinda like the idea of having one less blog, but I don't know how to merge all the content from that site to this site. If any of you awesome blogger folks now that is possible drop me a hint.

I have noticed that despite my awesomeness I do not have one blogger "follower." It just goes to show you that people don't really care about me. Also despite over 1,000 podcast downloads I only have 2 diggs at digg.com. I guess you guys don't need this website the way I hope you do. You don't wake up every morning with your first thought, "What does Romius have to say to day?"

I think you should. I give away all my content for free and when you look back at the hundreds of posts I have written I would say that a few dozen are laugh out loud funny. You can't buy that kind of fun and yet here I am giving it away for free. Sometimes I even have to pay to get you this. If you count all the money I am wasting sitting at the Internet cafe typing how people don't love me and I still get only a hundred hits a day though I have noticed that my "returning visitor" hits are up, I guess maybe some of you guys like all the extra posting I am doing. I used to have 3 to 5 return visitors a day. Now I get near 10. Maybe that poll is right. I do plan on posting a lot from now on. When I get my computer I will just work ahead so that I can put a less "blogg" blog out there. For now you get bloggy and today's post is bloggy with a side of extra bloggy so just get over it.

I don't have time to write anything about Sarah Palin Today. I did not stop at Whataburger on the way to the library today. I am going to leave early so I can get some lunch.

Work update

I have worked 15 days is a row. I finally have a day off tomorrow. We said good bye to the coolest assistant manager yesterday. I drew 2 pictures for her. One was a political commentary where I suggested that Barack Obama was a closet socialist and Sarah Palin's unwed daughter was bad for the economy. The second picture was full of stick figure caricatures of all the employees I could fit on an 8x11 piece of paper. It was full of inside jokes that none of you would get so I won't repeat, only to say that my genius was once again affirmed by the outside world that does not read blogs.

I catch Asthma from work. I almost don't get paid this week.

It feels like I swallowed play dough into my chest. I think the bronchitis I caught at work has turned into asthma. Sometimes while speaking I have to cough a bit and I can't get any air to form words. I know I don't really have asthma, I just need to go to the doctor and get some anti-biotics to finish off what my lackadaisical immune system seems to be unable to finish off on its own.

Some people get sick or the flu. I get asthma. Also because I have been eating fast food again I need to report to you that the weak shitting is back. My bowel movements have been very unfirm, pasty yellow, and squirty. They have been that way for a few days or a couple of weeks I can't remember.

I still smell cancer in the hallways and my room from the carpets. Most of the paint smell is gone and by gone I mean has been absorbed into my lungs where it probably gave me asthma.

It was horrible busy at work yesterday. I did three work sheets of money orders. On slow days I might do half a sheet. We were so busy that we had all 4 mangers at check stands helping out customers so I had no help with my line that stretched out of customer service and into the main floor. None of the customers complained but I felt their heavy stares at my back whenever I turned around to type in a Western Union. I did 12 Western Unions and if each one takes 5 minutes or so you can see I spent at least an hour typing with my back to an angry and impatient crowd. I think you can imagine my anxiety about having my back turned for so long. I just know one day one of you impatient little buggers is not going to be able to take it anymore and jump up at me while I am typing away and stab me in the back. When that happens all I want you to know is that I have "super" fighting skills that rarely come out but they will if you stab me and I can't be held responsible for what happens to you next. I think a good head slam to the desk at least.

I am OK dealing with all the weirdo customers I get at the customer service desk. But yesterday I had to deal with a lot of my fellow workers who were quite angry that our checks had not come in at their normal time. By 4 pm I had taken a few dozen calls from angry baggers and mop hands asking, "when they were going to get their money?" All I could tell them was that the checks were not here and I had no idea where they were or when they were coming.

It turns out that the checks got delivered to another store by mistake. We found this out not thorough the quick action of our esteemed manager, but because several employees on their own called corporate and tracked down our payroll. Our manager said some something dismissive about not having the time to track them down herself. I guess when you drive three different Cadillacs to work you don't worry to much about one missing paycheck. But as part time workers who get paid a few cents over minimum wage, most of us live paycheck to paycheck. A few workers were actually stranded at work as they did not have enough money for gas to go home and then come back later whenever the checks got it. Finally around 6pm the checks came in and a lot of workers were happy. Some of them missed deadlines for rent and other bills so they will have to eat a few late fees. Our checks were already a day later than usual because of the holiday (which we all worked but corporate does not so they send the checks out a day late.)

I can't help but guffaw at the irony of corporate fat cats taking labor day off and then fucking up the actual worker paychecks after forcing labor to labor on labor day-but that is because I am closet Marxist like Barack Obama and if you did not know Barack Obama was a closet Marxist then you obviously don't get the forwarded e-mails from my Mom that link to this webpage from Investor's Business Daily (according to the e-mail's author you can't dismiss this smear against Obama because "it's from Investors Business Daily, not some right wing publication* or McCain's political camp, and it is a very revealing view of Democrat presidential candidate, Obama.")

All I know is that the e-mail starts out with this bit of unbeatable logic "this is just my opinion and we all got opinions and if you don't like my opinion then delete this e-mail, don't send me your opinion about it."

So the author is fine with labeling all events in the world as simply events that get to be interpreted and because of the importance she places on opinions she feels compelled to share hers with me, but she does not want to hear my "interpretation" of her opinion. Well. You can't fault her logic on that one.

I would like to go off on a riff on the problem with the "logic" most Americans have. But I don't really have a lot of time left today, just seven minutes. All I know is that Sarah Palin has an unwed under age daughter and that daughter is pregnant which I guess proves the case that abstinence only programs really work, ...but that's just my opinion.

p.s.

I would like to point out that the author of the e-mails was not my mother in case I did not make that clear. I don't know if my mother even reads the e-mails she has been forwarding to me lately. I have to hope she does not as that would make me wonder how much genetics has a role in determining the political attitudes of humans. Even though I am Marxist, I take quite seriously the role that non-environmental factors play in behavior and personality.

*According to Investor's Daily (a non right wing sounding publication if I ever heard one) only a Marxist can think that a living wage of 10 dollars an hour is a good idea, along with say "fair trade" and "fair labor practices," with breaks for "patriot employers" who cow-tow to unions, and sticks for "nonpatriot" companies that don't." Gosh, I hope we don't start giving tax breaks to companies that provide good jobs to Americans and continue with the right wing approach of giving away our shared wealth to individuals and companies that export jobs overseas.

All I want to talk about is Sarah Palin and her under age teen daughter

If you are a lot like me then you spend all your free time on the Internet doing research because you don't want to be accused of not knowing what you are talking about. Also I find that researching my favorite topic of jail bait under cover of some kind of scientific rationale to be the best way to present myself to my ever expanding public.

I just read that the "number of girls marrying before age 18 expected to double in next decade." Which I guess means that once again I am ahead of a trend before it explodes into the world consciousness. 100 million child bride grooms can't be wrong. Long time readers know that I have several "spirit wives" so I can speak from a place of authority in regards to Sarah Palin's unwed pregnant daughter and her shotgun wedding.

My first reaction to the shotgun wedding being imposed by Mommie and Daddy Palin is that I would have been a poor choice as husband for this child bride. According to reports her boyfriend is a "f#cking redneck" and hates babies. I am not a redneck even though I am originally from Texas. And I don't hate children, I marry them is secret religious ceremonies that include being bound in sheer white clothing in a swimming pool. I like to know what I am getting right away.

An unwatchful Mother allows her slutty daughter to paint her toe and fingernails. I am sure this child is on her way to unwed motherville courtesy of Maybelline.

Speaking of child brides, Leslie, my number 1 spirit wife is being promoted to cashier which means that all my authority over is her is gone. It also means that despite not graduating from high school and being in the labor market for 20 years less than me she now earns only 40 cents an hour less than me. So much for me feeling sorry for child brides. They earn money and exhibit the secondary sexual characteristics that nature has deemed necessary for child birth. If they lack some kind of emotional stability or maturity ostensibly present in older females they make up for it by bonding to their spirit husbands like a duckling in a critical learning moment deciding that fluff the poodle is going to be his mamma.

All I know is I found a few awesome photos of Sarah Palin's daughter's mom and she looks likes she loves America!

My mommy wants to buy me a computer

My mommy wants to buy me a computer. She knows I like to be connected to the Internet at all times. I am a little surprised that she knows that about me since we only talk once a year or so on the phone and e-mail each other a few times a month. I don't include in that count all the forwarded e-mail she is flooding me with about what a great gal Governor Palin is.

I want a laptop pretty badly, but I told my mommy not to buy me one as I was saving money to get one myself. (I'm not saving money- I can't pay my bills.) All I know is it quite humiliating to be 37 years of age and unable to afford even the basics of life (and yes the Internet is a basic of life in the post-industrial age of advanced democratic countries). I am going to be writing a post about my humiliation and entering the post in Katie Schwartz's "cuntest." My working title is "I am a cunt. The public humiliation of Romius T."

My post covers how most teenagers earn more money than me. But I will talk a lot about fat chicks too, because I know how you guys can't get enough of the fat chick jokes and I know that because I read my stats daily. Also I recently discovered that Blogger offers its users the ability to "follow" fellow bloggers in the dashboard section of blogger. I am now following a few of my favorites and if use blogger I urge you to do the same. That way I could get all 6 of my readers in one place.

Speaking of reading my stats, I just discovered that I have another reader and not only does she read my blog she even links to my blog. Rubicon Mom is her handle and she writes a funny new blog you can find over at http://kyjeepchick.blogspot.com/. I am not sure if the Ky is short for Kentucky or KY Jelly. I can only hope the latter. I think all my mommy bloggers should go visit her blog and say hi and tell her she is the recipient of the Blog Friend of the Day.™

Why haven't I talked about Governor Palin's under age daughter's unborn baby?

I think by now you guys know that I am the last guy in the world to jump on a bandwagon. I don't mean to say that I don't jump on bandwagons, I just mean to say that I wait until the wagon has left the station and I can't possibly benefit from the additional hits Google would bring me from posting on topics when they are relevant. I suffer from approach/avoidance disorder so I can't help that.

All I know about Governor Palin is what I know about every chick I have ever met from Alaska. They are scary and they shoot at things (or club them to death.) I think I mentioned that I thought Palin was kinda hot in a soccer momish way. USA Today wrote that her hair style was 20 years out of date, but I thought it a bit fashion forward for a political figure. Her hair style screams, "check me out I am hot if by hot I mean it is still 1982." I mean it is not very often that a political figure uses their attractiveness as a comes hither sexuality.

"Mommy, are we slutty enough yet?"

I guess that kind of inappropriateness is why her daughter is knocked up at just 17. Kids copy their role models and you really can't blame Palin's daughter for being a slut, since her mom is one. All I know is I love lactating jail bait more than I like diapered jail bait but that is just my taste preference and I don't judge you for yours. At least when you make your 16 year old girl friend dress up in a depends adult diaper garment you are not thinking about forcing yourself on some unsuspecting infant. I applaud that kind of sublimation and I think Freud would to.

Boy I wish I could find a way to save pictures on this public computer so that I could post some of those hot pictures of Palin and her knocked up teen daughter. But I can't. Truthfully, I haven't tried to figure a way to do it. Haha I just figured out a way by saving all the pictures to the desktop. Now I have to save like a hundred photos to the desktop of this public library computer so that when the next person opens the computer all they will see is shots of Palin's daughter. I feel sorry for the next pervert to use this computer.

I get carpet and skylights. I go to the DMV. I have worked 11 straight days, so my eyes are blurry.

The carpet guys came today to install the carpet today at 8am. I got a text message last night at 11:37 from Card Shark telling me that the carpet installers would be coming by early in the morning, and I needed to pack up my belongings again, so that I could move them out of the room I am staying in, so it could be carpeted. I also got a text message that asked me to not wear shoes on the carpet. It was signed "one pussy whooped homeboy." I wrote him back and told him he was a ball less homo and he agreed.

I should say "Hi" to my newest reader, Mrs. Card Shark. I would normally hold Mrs. Shark to the same degree of snark and insults that I give to all my fans, friends, and enemies. But I am deathly scared of Mrs. Card Shark. Something about her going clubbing baby seals as a vacation idea made me think that is a chick you should not mess with. So I won't. Also, I promise to make the Mexicans take off their shoes while they are in the house even though that will just make the house smell like tacos.

I know some of my readers don't like it when I make fun of Mexicans, but I only make fun of Mexicans because I know for a fact that Mexicans eat raw the blood of javelinas and enjoy feasting on the flesh of white babies. I myself do not condone the eating of little white babies (excepting for down syndrome children.)* I know white babies are quite tasty. I've tried a few bites myself, but I don't eat them regular like you Mexicans do and like a certain reader and linkee of mine.

We have skylights in the house.

I still have not found the fro. I dropped by his house and the note I left was gone, but there is no sign of the Fro. I can't find his parents phone number, so I will have to make a trip back to the ghetto again to see them.
I went to the DMV yesterday. I needed to get my truck to pass emissions and pay for this years registration fee. My tags expired on the 31st of last month, so I drove all the way to Chandler worrying that I was going to be stopped b the police and arrested and forced to sit in a stall with smelly Mexicans. Luckily that did not happen. I got lost of course and sat for an hour in the out of state inspection booth before being told I needed to go to the in-state inspection booth.

Once I got to the right inspection center I moved quickly to the front of the line. I had no idea my luck for the day was over though. The computer that they use to test emissions crashed while it was hooked up to me. It had to be rebooted six or seven times. I was in a panic attack already as I was worried that the truck might not pass inspection. The truck has a bit of a rough idle and seems to cough or spit sometimes. I think the battery cable comes undone or something because I can sometimes hear a clicking noise. At other times the car jumps for no good reason.

Once in motion the car drives well, though right after it's started it is a bit sluggish like the fuel pump is blocked or something. Before Card Shark sold me the truck it sat for a few months without being started, so the gas may have gone bad and possibly that damaged something. I know the wait forced us to get a new battery, and I think you all remember what a mantastic story that was. (If not click on the I am mantastic link below.)

Luckily the truck passed inspection. I get around the rough idling by keeping the truck full of gas and by using the highest octane gas available. It seems to run better without all the knocking when it has a full tank and high octane. I've even gone and used a few octane boosters despite my belief in their efficacy.

I need to remind the Card Shark that we need to buy a vacuum cleaner. Maybe the Misses can do that for me.

The Internet Girl Friend would have been very happy to see all the changes taking place at the house. I no longer live in a home that has not been vacuumed in 4 years. Sure there is the faint smell of cancer one gets from the new installation of carpet. The ubiquitous smell of paint fumes which I doubt I will ever stop smelling as I think some of the paint has lodged in my gonads or my esophagus somehow. But Card Shard does have skylights. And if I know anything about chicks, it's that they dig skylights.

*this is my attempt at topical humor. hello vp palin. abortion good. retard bad.**

**fracking blogger erased half this post and I am out of time. Also the mexican baby eating joke was actually funny in my head at breakfast and before blogger fucked up.