I'm creepin' up on you

Little Jimmy whined like a bitch when I stuck a poker through his eye socket.  Careful though. I had to be careful, I didn't want to get to the mushy brain matter behind Little Jimmy's eyes. Puppies eyes are so damn delicate because they lead right to the brain, and even a tad bit too much pressure could kill Little Jimmy, and killing Little Jimmy was the last thing I wanted to do.  I wanted him to be conscious so that everyday he bumped into the living room furniture it would serve as a reminder to his master not to fuck with me.

Not that I really minded blinding that little pecker.  Fucking thing barked all night, even pissed on me the few times I was generous enough to pick him up and petted him.   

I didn't even have to use my AK 47

Got some good advice, I was told I need to be more positive. She wanted to see something on this blog that wasn't depressing. It was something like, "I always want to stick my head in the oven after reading your blog."

I tried telling her how it wasn't my fault, how nothing good ever happens to me, and how I'm just keeping it real and writing the things I know. But she was like I don't care about that, just make something up.  And wouldn't you know I would be writing this on the bus on the way to work when a homeless women sits right next to me.

Great! I'm thinking another stinky homeless. But she starts tugging at my manhood. I look over at her and she smiles a toothless grin. Then she hands me a blue viagra pill.  "I think you're going to need this." She tells me. And I start thinking, and maybe this is my lucky day.

Good things were just ahead, I got a phone call right before work telling me I didn't have to come to work, but I'd still get paid for my all my trouble.  I  then walked past a gaggle of teenagers, the kind that would intimidate a lesser man even with a few more inches.

The girls were combing each other's hair and discussing trade secrets about how to get their jeans so tight.
"Jenny, if you use super glue you can get your jeans even tighter!"

"Ahah! So, that's how they do it."  I thought and turned around to go home and walked past a couple of Japanese twins. One was close to giving birth. Between lamaze breathing she asked if I needed a ride. She winked and I climbed in. Both girls were wearing catholic school girl uniforms. The pregnant one hiked her skirt up and asked me, if I saw any crowning?

"Nope." Came my reply.
"Then I think we have time." She says.

Her sister had a hard time steering the car into the intersection because she was busy getting me hard.

"Viagra is a hell of a drug!" I told the two Chinese girls who both agreed.

By the time we got home I had popped twice on tiny Asian nipples. "We've got to get to St. Lukes!" They screamed at me as they drove off, big poppa jamming from the lowered windows of the 1987 Mustang convertible.

As soon as I was inside I got another phone call. My little brother had quit meth for good. He'd taken part in some secret CIA fluoridation project in Austin, TX and was clean and sober. He said he was on the way to see me because my middle brother had just won the Mexicana lottery while on a job down south working in a catina offering donkey shows.

"Fuck ya!" I told the mouthpiece which later informed me that Google was releasing a beta version of jelly bean the company's phone software on a brand new Motorola created Nexus phone and they, "totally wanted my input."

What a great day!

Happy New Year Everyone: Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.

Why talk about your three inch penis, when we all know that yo dick yo is so large that tribesmen teach their indigenous children that Mother Earth rests on the top of your cockhead?  Is it because you still want to do something with your life?  That's a delicious topping of ass crack.  Some would say that's a good sign at least compared to 2011.

But that's a belief that will kill you.

Here's another idea.

You are not great.  You are not special. You do not have a large penis.  Even if you did, you are fantastic at only turning women off.  You disgust the human yearning for aesthetics.

You will never be rich.  You will die poor.  You will die younger than you should.  You will die like the Kenyan from some preventable disease.  I will laugh at you as you die.  As you take your last breath.  Those of you without anxiety can ignore my truth, but if you had some anxiety you could understand it.   You could identify your tormentors.  You could identify the true victims.  But you are too stupid.  You are still too full.  Your food stamps cover up your failures.  Your unemployment will run out one day, but it will be too late.   You will be sectioned off.  Your shopper card, your ss# your credit score will segregate you to the land of hopelessness.  They will stop TREATING you at emergency room hospitals.

(It already happens.  You are fucking dying. The doctor knows it.  He just won't get paid if he treats you.  Ask him.  What's more important in your file: your medical history or your credit history.)

HE GIVES NOT A SHIT.

But he is not the enemy.   He wants to heal you.  Some part of him at least. (There are humans out there, a small minority.) But soon he won't understand why he'd ever want to help you.  Why?

Fuck the poor.  They stink.  They are stupid.  They are drug infected.

That is the truth.  I deal with the poor.  I am the poor.  We are fucked.  We always have been.

We all have the hope we get  to be middle class.  That's what we mean by everyone can be rich in America. But at last we are losing hope.  Soon we will all know there is no chance of getting rich.  Soon even the stupid figure out shit.

Fuck you when that happens.

Not really.  Nothing will happen.  This is not some foreign country., this is America.  We go down with the ship.  We are the Japanese that do not understand that WWII is over.  We are not the empirical beings are critics hope us to be.  We are fanatics about being Americans.



That's why we walk past homeless people, it's why we abandoned our homes after our interest rates skyrocketed, it's why we sing the star spangled banner at halftime, why we have military planes flyovers, and why we interview the military on gameday. It's not because we are more militaristic than anyone else, but because we are fanatical than most . We are fanatical about being American.

I know we don't seem fanatical to ourselves.  But we are fanatical, my friends.   It's why we don't understand/why we don't care about facts/why facts won't matter and never did.

We are fucking fanatics,  AS FANATICAL as FUCKING ANYONE!!!

You will find this out.  They will keep fucking with us, society will continue to break down.  We will still believe.  Ask DETROIT.  It's a fucking third world country, but they have no clue they stopped living in American years ago.

OWS is not enough.  It has already overextended itself.

Good bye America.

Happy New Year.