Knock... Knock. "Who's there?" "It's the FBI and we're listening on all your phone calls, is that cool?"

No it is not Mr. FBI man. Please hang up or at least offer to pay for half of the cost of my phone sex conversations. Mistress Sally charges 19.99 for 20 minutes and that's a lot of dough for an unemployed blogger. If she finds out someone else is listening in on us she might double the charge.

I guess the FBI liked it when cellular phone providers updated their phones with GPS technology so they can find out that I tend to do my masturbating at the nearby Wendy's once a week. You can't Find Osama, but you can hear me jacking off.

I just want to alert my family that ABC news is reporting how the FBI listens to your cell phone even if you turn the power off. So maybe that whole blow up during Christmas dinner is looking pretty justified. And Bloomberg is reporting that all the CCTV's in England are going to start talking back to you.

I think I read about this in a book somewhere. Nah, that was fiction.

Sports Break II. Updating My Fantasy Football Team's quest for Awesomeness!

Not all my posts can rock as hard as my Fantasy Football team.

My team is in a double game elimination showdown for awesomeness. Right now my team's awesomeness is just 4 points down. Next week will be the key. The title is up for grabs.

But I am going to win. I just know it.

If you meet a Wangster and it's a 19 year old blonde girl. Trust me. She's as hard as she says she is.

Things are looking up again. If you had gotten used to my new posting pattern then you might be worried that I wasn't posting daily anymore. And wondered what I was up to.

Don't. I was just out of cola. When I am out of cola I can't function.

Speaking of people who barely fuction I "hung" out with Jeramey and his friends the other night. Which means I stayed at home and his friends got high on the reefer in my garage. I didn't mind it that much since my stepmom and dad were visiting and I needed help entertaining them.

One of those entertainers wanted to get a tattoo.

"I want to get a tattoo." She might have looked like the new Britney Spears, but she had been to Jail plenty. Enough that she wanted to get a tattoo that read "Fuck the Po-lice." Why?

"Because anytime you go to jail the cops ask if you have any tattoos."

Good one.

You are probably thinking that a girl like that needs to get a good plan together for her life. But I've got to admire anyone who has that much of a hold on their lives.

If you know you life is going to be spent answering assenine questions to the police in holding tanks it's good to have ready-made-answers like FUCK THE PO-LICE!

Woman has Two Vaginas

Holy Crap. I just don't know what to say about this. How can this be true?

I didn’t know anything was different about me until I was fifteen. I was having all sorts of pain—woman stuff—but I’d get it checked out, and they wouldn’t find anything wrong. I guess the eighth doctor was more thorough. I remember I was lying there, and I heard her say, “Oops.”

What I’ve got is a rare condition called didelphic uterus—two vaginas, two cervices, and two uteruses. I look completely normal from the outside, but there’s a septum inside where everything branches into two. My doctor says I’m one in a million.

For a while I thought I was a total freak. I lost my virginity twice. The first time was when I was eighteen. Then I lost the other side two weeks later. To the same guy. You’d think I could have saved one of them for marriage.

Just like a woman not to at least save one of them for a Rainy Day or something. Does that mean you get twice the menses?

Can you think of the mess that poor JEWKAT would leave behind if she came double loaded.

As I type this I want to wish you all a Happy Festivus

And I want to remind you that all this typing I am doing is building huge finger muscles for me. Specifically my ring finger on my right hand. I am not sure why only the right ring finger of my hand is developing such massive muscles of weight lifter proportions. But I know it's happening. I can't deny it any longer.

I wonder how I will get through life now that I have such a "misshapen" hand. Most of you will laugh. You should know better than that. The might I now have in my finger may upset the balance of power in the known universe.

Ponder. And beware. And Happy Festivus!!!

When the Laughter Dies: Blogging the loss of privacy in the age of the internet mob.

I don't care if the Terrorists win.

I don't have anything to lose anyway.

Like most other bloggers I am an unemployed sexual deviant who lives in his mother's basement. The closest I get to screwing a girl is fist fucking Rosie Palm after decorating her in my cousin's dirtiest Barbie doll outfits.

A number of those deviant basement bottom dwellers survive and prosper because they have developed a relationship with their readers. They call it a community in the blogger world. Even this tiny blog has a culture and small readership community.

And I don't think there is anything wrong with that. I've always encouraged participation here and will continue to do so in the future.

And I have no problem with how most other blogging communities handle themselves either. I consider myself an admirer of Podcasts such as KATG and Ze Frank. They have an economic model they can pursue because of fan loyalty and community support.

I am just not too sure if bloggers understand their power yet. None of them had time to learn to deal with the ferocity of allegiance they can command, like say a Howard Stern has.

Recently on The Show with Ze Frank he suggested that members of his community adopt a myspace friend. All of his fans would bombard the "deserving" but nearly friendless victim. A prank. Funny and harmless really. I am sure the "victim" would be flattered by all the attention and revel in the amusement of being pranked by so many people at once.

But Ze does admonish his followers to beware of "looking like spam, whatever that is." So even a relatively harmless joke has the danger of misperception. And apparently some of Ze Frank's followers are in danger of changing into a tin can of salted meat.

I am astutely aware of how this weblog can appear to some people. I was recently tipped to an "inappropriate" posting I made on this blog which many people in a particular community felt went too far.

Maybe it did. I tend to cross the line to find out where I can next draw it.

I decided to review the post and I removed it. While I corrected the problem and that could have been the end of it, I think not. Why not take this oppurtunity to lecture others? It could be instructive if some of the "A" list bloggers and podcasters out there took the time to consider the direction and intent of their communities. They need to understand the responsibility that comes with reaching large audiences in the age of the internet.

Old school and mainstream media were founded on the ideal of the public good. They served the public interest and their existence was predicated on the belief that they actually served something more than the private interests that financed the publication.

Today's mass media serve only private tastes. It is formed in the uncensored unconscious mind. Private thoughts are no longer constrained within the minds or journals of their creators. Instead they are vomited on the anonymous Internet. Releasing the private unconscious over the the false anonymity of the internet only reinforces our unconscious impulses. We feel safe to create. But that privacy is an illusion.

My illusion of privacy was broken a long time ago. I have a past that makes me sensitive to those efforts. It should have made me more careful about what I post, and made me sensitive to the potential ways I might break the privacy of others.

All I can say is that it has not been enough. I've been fired for posting on this blog. I guess it takes a long time for me to learn lessons. Probably has something to do with my frontal lobes malfunctioning. I am working on it. May I suggest humbly that other communities do so as well?

One might consider a community broken after communities stop being gathering places for the like-minded and descend into a state of mobbery. For instance, after an anonymous poster recently suggested his community had begun to secretly orchestrate against me. Efforts were "put into tracking you down was no doubt to reassure her that we knew who you were and where you were. " This little fact finding mission KATG members started could have been just an attempt to put their minds at ease. It just as easily could have spiraled into something dangerous for yours truly.

Privacy may be gone. Somebody famous said that. So it must be true. And there is no going back. But there are ways to handle situations before they spiral out of control.

First I would suggest that communication is important. Many times people are unaware of their wrong doing. Pointing out a problem quickly and directly is a requirement for citizenship in the blogging communities.

Often the problem ends there. Encouraging a bloggers courtesy will typically resolve any problems that a lawsuit doesn't cover. Removing the "citizenship" of the offender can act as a powerful punishment to the guilty.

If common sense can guide us in our efforts to deal with individual offenders, what guides the community at large? The first step is to examine critically a communities policing. At a certain point the mob mentality can reach critical mass.

How to know if your community has reached the Crisis of Mob Mentality:

• The creator of leader of the blogging community losses control of the direction or intention of the blogging citizens.


• Threats of violence


• Cyberstalking i.e. abusing or flaming individuals, harassment at work or in the non-digital world.


• Releasing of private information onto the internet.

Act before it takes place to encourage responsible behavior by setting a good example yourself. And take responsibility. It's the creator's job to make sure the community is policing itself through courtesy, not torches.

A sports break. My fantasy football team could kick your fantasy football team's ass.

Yeah, that's right I said it. My fantasy football team rocks. I just defeated the league's "best" team. Not once, but twice! And they were 12-1 before the double elimination playoff match.

I rule! And so does a certain Indianapolis quarterback I was told not to draft in the first round. I also took a chance on Ahman Green, and not just because he's a possible Muslim. But because who'd thought he could regain his former 1,000 yard a year form?

Me. That's who. I have entered exactly 2 fantasy football tournaments and I have made the Superbowl both times. Do not mock my abilities. I believe my finish this year cements my reputation as an amazing fantasy 'baller. Cemented like concrete. Which I hear the Egyptians favored for creating kick ass pyramids. Not as kick ass my Team USSR fantasy football team. But close.

This post is dedicated to all those readers who feel disappointed by my failure to allow them to root for my FF team every week. Sorry. Don't forget to keep us in your prayers this playoff week.

Robots Will Get Rights

The United Kingdom, home of the world's most surveilled people, have just issued a death warrant on the human race.

“If we make conscious robots they would want to have rights and they probably should,” said Henrik Christensen, director of the Centre of Robotics and Intelligent Machines at the Georgia Institute of Technology."

"Visions of the status of robots around 2056 have emerged from one of 270 forward-looking papers sponsored by Sir David King, the UK government’s chief scientist. The paper covering robots’ rights was written by a UK partnership of Outsights, the management consultancy, and Ipsos Mori, the opinion research organisation."

Podcast Test 2

The World's worst Podcast just had it's second test run. Things don't appear ready for prime time. But music was played. So that must be good.

Test # 3 will have some interesting things. This week in news of the surveillance society.

Thomas Pynchon hates his family too

Pynchon is such a moody artistic ass that he won't show up to his nieces big movie opening.

Just because the big movie opening is a porn movie. Ever read a book by Mr. Pynchon? Well he has erotic imagery in it. The least he could do is give his family members enough money so they can get addicted to crack or show up to their pathetic public attempts at attention seeking.

Either way I blame Thomas for two things. The proliferation of "famous authors" niece porn. And his nieces decision to get that flabby belly button pierced.

Hayden Panettiere is My HERO

She plays the indestructible teenaged cheerleader on NBC. But all her superpowers combined were unable to fend off the advances of "Creepy 31 Year old Record Producer Guy."

I take comfort in that. I think me and Hayden will be BFF soon.

Hearting Jailbait is wrong. Maybe you should just erase me from your RSS feed now. Before the Feds do.

Jeramey has an alter ego. Meet Cody.

"They took everything away from me. My cars, my house, my things. They even put my dogs down."

I think one of his eyes made contact with me. I wished his teeth hadn't. His black eye peas were spitting at me distracting me from watching another Rockets 4th quarter collapse.

Luther Head just fouled off the ball with under 2 minutes to play. I can't believe you can make that kind of bone-headed play and still call yourself a professional, Luther.

"I got 2 more days before I go back in. I'll be going in for 7 to 9 months."

Where is my brother? He's in the bathroom cleaning off the 3 gallons of puke from his shirt. Before Cody and Jeramey walked in with their puke stained jeans and shirts I got excited because Jenny walked in the house alone.

She was talkative. Flushed from drinking. When I got up to get myself a beer she kept talking to me. She seemed unusually interested in speaking to me. I think it was the first time that she intitiated a conversation with me.

I guess she was preparing me for the amount of puke I was going to see on Jeramey. She mentioned she once puked on her steering wheel while driving home. "Puked all over it." And kept driving. She's a trooper like that.

"Well that sucks for you."

I did my best to affect some sympathy in my voice. Then turned my head to address Cody.

"Why did they put your dogs down?" I hate to admit it, but I was curious why the cops put his dogs down.

"They put the dogs down because they tried to bite the cops when they came to arrest me."
"Well that makes sense." I reply.

Cody is not nearly as excited about the game as I am. Cody wants to discuss why his previous trip to prison lasted 18 days.

"Last time I was in I got 5 day. Then I hit a {expletive deleted} and got 5 more days. When they finally put me in the general population I saw the {expletive deleted again} and kicked his ass again. So I got 9 more days."

"So you don't mind going back to jail then?" I ask.

"Not at all. It don't bother me a bit. I've been to Juvenile for 3 years. I've been to jail lots in my life."

I am sure you have. But I have no intention of leaving with you when you're finally done cleaning the puke off and leave. I don't really want to get drunk with you. I think you're kinda scary. And I hang out in dive bars all the time. So I think I know why I am scared.

Go ahead and take Jenny with you. She'll drive off in her Mustang with her passed out boyfriend on the passenger side.

This post is dedicated to how effective Smush Parker can be in the second half and overtime.

Does this mean that I will have to stop my Jailbait of the Week profile?

I already have enough problems with my comments. Now McCain wants bloggers to police its commenters.

"McCain Wants to Require Bloggers, not just MySpace, to police its commenters. News.com's Declan McCullagh reports that McCain has draft legislation that would make any blogger with a comment section liable for damages unless they report child pornography or obscene images. Really this has nothing to do with sucking up to radical Christian fundamentalists and feeding the fears of suburban parents in the run-up to McCain's presidential bill."

My list of things that make it hard to be a pervert.

1. Perverted Justice.com


2. Yahoo removing chat rooms for teens


3. Non-stripper females in Gentlemen's clubs


4. Dateline NBC

Missing me?

Some of you are having problems with comments.

Go here for a fix.

You're worried when you can't get a hold of me. I know. I missed you too! It's OK though. We're not fighting or anything. You've done nothing wrong and you're not in trouble.

It was somebody else's fault. I blame the ninjas.

Ask me why I hate ninjas.

I know I have been memed more times that you care to read. Like my ex-GF on myspace I will saturate your In-box till it is full of mindless crap.

But it is the only way I can keep track of who my ex-girlfriend is fucking, so I never complain directly to her about my inbox.

So I guess I wish you wouldn't complain to me directly either. Though I have noticed how my comments have dried up over the past few days with all "edgier" material.

I miss your comments and meme requests. Somehow I convinced Kate that memes are not real science. But now I have a new friend. And while he couldn't come up with 6 weird things we didn't know about evil Vulcans, I expect he thinks I will have an easier time coming up with my list.

He's wrong. My entire blog career consists in pointing out weird things about me. I am not sure that I have 6 left. If I did have 6 more weird things they would be quite embarrassing for you to read.

1. Like I might be a stepsister fucker.

Let me explain. I was pre-teen. My step sister was a whore. And I always wondered if a finger could fit "in there."

2. I can't remember the last time I had sex.

Let me explain. After reading the first point you need further explanation? I was abused. And the "kicks" you get from finger banging relatives cannot compare to "kicks" one gets by getting laid the usual way. Date rape is a close second. But I have no idea how to get a hold of Rohypnol.

3. I caught my brother blowing his nose in the family's towels. Every day my mind drifts back to the horror of that moment.

4. I am a member of the Communist Party USA.

5. I love citizen band radio.

6. I pick my nose to much. But I read somewhere that it might be good for you. So suck on that, America.

I hereby MEME Foxxxylove, Jezebel, Knows it all,and the Real Salty Senorita . If I thought Utter wonder & Drunkenstepfather would then I would meme them too!

Make Me Famous, I'll make you famous. Then we can lie down in bed and rub money all over each other. I just hope your boy bits aren't bigger

First of all I don't really think it is going to take peeing all over my cousin on my incest webcam to become famous. I'm sure someone has already done that, so it wouldn't very unique or anything special.

And like my cousin says through a stream of urine "that's some warm ass piss in my mouth."

But that's not all she says. She also says things like "pornography is violence." I remind her that violence is hitting. And then I punch her in the face. Just to make sure she remembers. My cousin has a Ph.d in annoying normally, but she can shut the fuck up quickly when she needs to.

Not that it's not fun to listen to hear moan sometimes about men. How we're all rapists I mean. I wonder after my cousin says retarded things about men if she ever considers how men treat other men. Does she think it's with kid gloves? All Hooter's and strip clubs? Because I seem to recall men are not very nice to other men. Actually we're kinda bitches.

I don't want to be President of Harvard, but men and women often have a different take on things. What you call my objectification, I'll call Romance. Who's to say how I should conceive romance? I say don't be such a Notion Nazi.

This post isn't dedicated to you. Even if you think it is. So stop thinking this post is about you. It's about me, baby. It's always about me.

I Don't Want To be "U" Tubed

It didn't take Jeramey long to get over his failure to get me out of the house. Instead Jeramey brought the Real Palmetto here. To my house.

At least that is how I will describe the Redneck boxing matches that took place today. My Pops decided he would rather go back to the Fifth Wheel than take a chance that our illegal boxing show couldn't get us arrested.

To the lady holding the Video Camera I can only say, "I don't wish to be You Tubed."

After editing out any of the clips that accidentaly get me in the shot, I will post said video.

That's right. I just said it. I will be posting redneck boxing matches that were held out in front of my home.

Somebody shoot me.

I thought I was a celebrity blogger

How can it get to this point?

Dad:

"You should start an advice column on the internets. On what not to do with your life."

I know I haven't in so many words explained to my dear readers my desire to become a celebrity blogger. But I was hoping that you would just get the point. I am not into conflict and I didn't want to add any drama to our already unstable relationship.

Getting me to the million dollar salary may require a few of you to do something other than read the "one post" on my blog that matches your Google search.

Otherwise I don't see why I should write such interesting posts that you can search for mork and mindy gum egg and somehow get a response to read.

I know I have those 4 or 5 fans. You guys check my site 2 or three times a day. But I need an army. A nation of worshipers who will do my bidding. Otherwise trying to convince my Dad that the only example I can be is the example to avoid being is going to a hell of a difficult task.

I might have to get a job, a woman, a house, a god. And vote Republican.

Robots...Robots ...Robots

Metafilter devotes an entire paragraph of links about robots.

"Sherry Turkle, who used to believe in the benefits of robot pets, has changed her tune and now "finds human-machine love unsettling (pdf)". Tyrell:"We began to recognize in them a strange obsession. After all, they are emotionally inexperienced, with only a few years in which to store up the experiences which you and I take for granted. If we gift them with a past, we create a cushion or a pillow for their emotions, and consequently, we can control them better." Was he referring to us or them?"

Google in bed with CIA

Google's motto may be "do no evil." But revelations that Google may be in bed with the CIA call into question the nature of good and evil when it comes to privacy on the net.

Geez, that almost sounded like I worked for the Associated Press, huh? I didn't even slip in any mentions that you caught me masturbating to the Sears' catalog. Don't get me wrong I love Google. Google even informed me when my last girlfriend broke up with me. Google helps me find porn. We just have to worry about Google the same way we worry about any company with nearly unlimited power.

According to the not so reliable source Prison Planet, the CIA gave Google some start up money. Google's relationship with the CIA has caused them to censor some websites and manipulate page rankings of critical stories. In addition Google admits to a program that taps in to your homes by listening in on your computer's microphones.

I am sure the CIA would have no interest in such a program.

Freedom? I don't need your stinking freedoms...

"Big Brother" is up to it again.

And I don't mean peeking into your underwear drawer and borrowing your panties for a little masturbatory fun. No I mean the bad kind of big brother watching.

England is fast becoming a dream come true for Orwellian irony lovers. The nightmare state is soon to be the home of RFID chips and unmanned blimps listening to your conversations on the street.

"In a new report entitled A Surveillance Society, information commissioner Richard Thomas predicts a world in 2016 where technology is extensively and routinely used to track and record people's activities and movements."

Meanwhile in the United States we have an ex speaker of the house and candidate for president advocating elimination of the First Amendment.

And more secret monitoring and "domestic intelligence-gathering on U.S. citizens" by the government of the world's freest peoples. It's been reported by Unclaimed Territory that the Federal Aviation Agency has assigned risk assessments to every passenger flying in America. Of course you have no right to contest the records that will be kept on file for 40 years or even review them for accuracy.

Update 1

And more news. The FBI is spying on you by listening to you when your cellphone is turned off.

Anyone care to join me in the revolution before it is too late?

Tagged Again.

DO YOU SNORE?
No. That's gross.

ARE YOU A LOVER OR A FIGHTER?
Neither.

WHAT'S YOUR WORST FEAR?
I have to pick one? How about being tagged again?

AS A KID, WERE YOU A LEGO MANIAC? Hell yes. When I visited my Auntie Norma all she has on the TV was Christian Broadcasting. I honestly thought her TV was broke. So I spent all day with the Lego's or outside away from all that Christian Propaganda.

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF REALITY TV? Sucks for the most part. But most TV that is not Battle Star Galactica sucks.

DO YOU CHEW ON YOUR STRAWS? Only when I am horny or near death. Or in prison for a weapon.

WERE YOU A CUTE BABY? O hell yas.

IS THE SINGLE LIFE FOR YOU? Sure. Chicks digg me.

WHAT COLOR IS YOUR KEYBOARD? Black like my penis.

DO YOU SING IN THE SHOWER? No. I bathe.

HAVE YOU EVER BUNGEE JUMPED? Scared of heights mofo.

ANY SECRET TALENTS?I am uniquely known to posses zero talents whatsoever.

CAN YOU SWIM? I won't drown, but I am still not letting you on the lifeboat first.

HAVE YOU SEEN THE MOVIE DONNIE DARKO? Yes. What is the big deal about this movie? Let me guess before this movie your favorite was the Green Mile.

DO YOU GIVE A DAMN ABOUT THE OZONE? Sure. I care more about getting laid though.

HOW MANY LICKS DOES IT TAKE TO GET TO THE CENTER OF A TOOTSIE POP? I think a lot, I'll ask a hooker.

CAN YOU SING THE ALPHABET BACKWARDS? No.

DO YOU PREFER ELECTRIC OR MANUAL PENCIL SHARPENER? Manual is always better.

WHAT'S YOUR STAND ON HUNTING?I just don't understand it. But I agree with killing animals.

IS MARRIAGE IN YOUR FUTURE? not for a while. After I get jailed for killing a lot of women, I will be found a great deal sexier by the finicky opposite sex.

DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? No, they might use it to profile me.

WHAT ARE YOU ALLERGIC TO? This question was written by BIG PHARM. This whole meme has no other purpose.

WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU SAID, I LOVE YOU? To my mommy.

DO YOU CRY AT WEDDINGS? They are so sad. Of course.

HOW DO YOU LIKE YOUR EGGS? Over easy. There is simply no other way.

ARE BLONDES DUMB? Women yea. Men only sometimes.

WHERE DOES THE OTHER SOCK END UP? That's where Dark Matter comes from.

WHAT TIME IS IT.
1 P.M.
DO YOU HAVE A NICKNAME? Romius T.

IS MCDONALDS DISGUSTING? Delicious cheeseburgers.

WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WERE IN A CAR?
Yesterday.
DO YOU PREFER BATHS OR SHOWERS? Shower. I ain't gay.

IS SANTA CLAUS REAL?yes. And don't fuck with him or piss him off. He would molest you and kill your parents. Also he might be a cannibal.

DO YOU LIKE TO HAVE YOUR NECK KISSED?only if your kissin it.

ARE YOU AFRAID OF THE DARK? No, just the stuff I walk on.

WHAT ARE YOU ADDICTED TO?coke a cola

CRUNCHY OR CREAMY PEANUT BUTTER? Both I like old fashioned peanut btter too!

CAN YOU CRACK YOUR NECK? That's wrong on every level.

HAVE YOU EVER RIDDEN IN AN AMBULANCE? Like I would tell you.

IS DRUG FREE THE WAY TO BE? I'm not sure. define drug free? caffeine is a drug, no? I'm a coke ho.

ARE YOU A HEAVY SLEEPER?Not at all. I never sleep. Which is why I am a terrorist.

WHAT COLOR ARE YOUR EYES?Awesome.

DO YOU LIKE YOUR LIFE? Are you kidding?

ARE YOU PSYCHIC? Are you kidding. Any idiot who still believes in magic should be shot.

HAVE YOU READ CATCHER IN THE RYE? yep.

DO YOU PLAY ANY INSTRUMENTS? First chair violin in the 7th grade. Hell ya. Mad props to me.

HAVE YOU EVER STOLEN MONEY? What else do you call it?

CAN YOU SNOWBOARD? No.

DO YOU LIKE CAMPING?I could. Can I kill any islolated campers while I am there?

DO YOU SNORT WHEN YOU LAUGH? Only when Bill cosby comedyy albums are playing.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN MAGIC? I just answered that question, but no. God is not real. There is no such thing as Karma. ETC. etc.

ARE DOGS A MAN'S BEST FRIEND? I fucking hate dogs !!!!

YOU BELIEVE IN DIVORCE? of course. I've had a starter marriage. big fan of divorce. everyone should give it a twirl at least once.

CAN YOU DO THE MOONWALK? no, but I can do the earth walk.

DO YOU MAKE A LOT OF MISTAKES?yes

IS IT COLD OUTSIDE TODAY?no

WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE?chicken wings.

DO YOU WEAR NAIL POLISH?no.

HOW MANY PEOPLE DO YOU LIKE RIGHT NOW? 323 of Larry King's Laoatian Min-Wives.

WHAT'S THE MOST ANNOYING TV COMMERCIAL?I don't know.

DO YOU SHOP AT AMERICAN EAGLE? wht? No amercrombie?

FAVORITE SONG AT THE MOMENT?anything by UFO

ARE YOU TAGGING?no

I just got back from walking to the store for some coke.

I need to rest up a bit. If you had my blood pressure you would understand. I am 345 pounds and half gorilla. If you could feel my jugular right now you would feel how it is pounding away at me.

My fat isn't the jiggly kind. It's more like hard yellow brick. Sometimes it feels like the blood feels all pudgy and gets stuck in my veins. I want to rub it. To coerce it through back through my veins like jelly stuffed in a donut. But I hear that is the worse thing you can do for a clot. You rub a clot and it couldpass through right to your brain or to your heart.

I have been called a hypochondriac or an "Aunt Jeannie."

But if your blood pressure was as high as mine I think your thoughts would naturally turn to strokes too. 36 members of my family have died by stroke and 72 of them have been on November 29th. And most of all them before their 36th birthday.

So you'll have to pardon me if I am a little skittled today.

I've got other problems like the shooting pain in my left hand. I can't tell if it is just carpel tunnel syndrome from blogging so much this month or if it is just one of my premature heart attacks again. I've been hospitalized a few times for this before. I get doctor's notes but you scoff. That's very uncaring of you.

I know you're thinking it's just "gas" again. Not so quick. I think I have a real weakness in my arms. It is getting hard to lift the drink up to my lips. I am still breathing pretty hard too. You would think the heart rate would slow down by now. You would think it would be easier to swallow.

I don't see why you think that pain in my elbow has something to do with my Gastric reflux disease, or any potential ulcer I may have. My tummy was hurting yesterday and I have had more gas pressure this month than in the last 2 years. I still don't see the connection. But I sit here trying to convince myself that's all it is. I don't have the AIDS. Just guilt over my latent bisexuality.

Maybe the diabetes has given me the shakes and that's why I have all this muscle pain. Maybe it is just the liver finally going out. I can't decide if the red in my eyes is just the chronic sinus infection which has been uncooperative and oblivious to the antibiotics I've been prescribed to treat it. Instead maybe it is jaundice. Muscle pain is a sign that your liver is shot.

Another glass of Coke. Another sweet swallow. Another serving of caffeine. Breathe deep now. Everything is OK. And if it's not you don't have health insurance anyway.

Can I ask you to stop using your vibrator? I think there is something growing something on it.

Bacteria can be a hell of a problem. But if your vibrator has spots on it in the classic shape of an e coli infection. I must plead with you to quit inserting it in your vagina. It can't be healthy for you.

I am not suggesting that you have to replace your toy with any of my attached appendages. Though you probably guessed that last night when I jumped out of my seat shouting "What the fuck is that?" after you placed your foot on my crotch.

It's been a while. I am sorry I lost my head. You know it's been a while since I have encountered the the soothing touch of a female human.

I thought your foot was that little dog of yours that enjoys licking me so much. You know the one you trained by spreading peanut butter on your crotch.

Seriously, that dog likes people too much now. It's sorta creepy. From now on couldn't we just leave the dog locked up when I come over?

Maybe you don't blog drunk. Maybe you're a loser who just stays home surfing the net all day.

Either way you are a fucking geek.

But you are my geek. So don't get all crazy pissed at me. At least somebody loves you and that somebody is me.

I know most of you may take issue with my misogyny. But I can't get through life without getting a little pissed off at someone.

I write a blog I've named for my Misanthropic rantings, so maybe you need to check it out yourself. Have you ever asked why you put up with my shit? I think it has to do with your "Daddy issues." I too wished Daddy hadn't snuck into your bedroom to get all that extra alone time with you. But he did. And worshiping me isn't about to solve that Electra Complex for you.

It's true. Lately I have been going after the vagina. Maybe if you could convince some of your hot friends to have the sex with me it would be OK.

It's not like I ever hit a woman square in the face. I am not a total dick. Though to be honest I am not much of a fighter.

You see I am only 5 foot 8. And for all you chicks out there who stand over 4 feet tall that means I am way too short for you. I read this shit all the time. Every god damn personal ad on Yahoo has chicks under 5 feet wanting a 6 foot tall guy for themselves. Why you gotta be greedy like that? What makes you think a shortie like you is entitled to a tall heaping pile of man meat 6 feet in length?

I have a second message for you gals. I'd like to see you all under 122 pounds. Any chick and I don't care how tall you are. Any chick over 122 pounds is fat. But guess what you'd think if I said that. You'd think I'm an asshole. But you can say short and bald guys suck and it's like no biggy.

Also you all want the guy to have a job. That is just code for "I may not want to work in the future." Which is cool. I hate work too. But just admit it and don't try and hide the fact that you want me to take care of you.

And quit having a double standards about me thinking skinny chicks are hot. They are. The same way tall guys are better looking than short guys. The same way you'd like me to have hair is the same way I'd like you to quit bitching about my drinking and gambling.

Daddy walked out on Mommy because of all that henpecking. Don't fuck up what's between us or the same will happen to you. Then who's gonna help you raise them kids? No one. That's who.

I can't write for 3 blogs forever. A Romius T. Thanksgiving Message to all you Suckas!

"Why put yourself though it?"

I've pretty much resigned myself to just entertaining the 4 readers that I have. Not to getting much more. I can't even get people who actually hang out with me to read my blog.

It's unfair really.

Like other serial killers and psychopaths I carry around an unquenched and overwhelming desire to be understood. I just want y'all to get to know me. I am alll gushy on the insides, so it's like all warm and stuff if you stick your fingers in. I am protective and snuggleriffic.

I know you guys get it. That's why you're here. Be careful out there though. I am worried about you. You are all so special. Unpredictable. Though I still think your lives are all worth saving. I'll fight for you. None of you guys are colateral damage to me. Even when you don't stick around.

90% of my viewers leave this blog quickly. So quickly on average they leave after only 18 seconds. I don't know how they can ascertain anything so fast. But I guess the human unconscious is a lot faster that I like it to be. First impressions are really something aren't they?

I just wanted to let you guys know that other that a certain cola drink I really don't have any reason to get up in the morning without you.

But with your wind beneath my wings or ...sails... I know I can go far. Like a friend of mine once said "tomorrow I might have enough energy to get drunk and play video games." You don't know what that would mean to me.

A feeling of accomplishment like that.

This post is dedicated to Peanuts and the great Pumpkin Charlie Brown. This post is actually dedicated to breaking down and losing the staring contest with your neighbors dog. It seems dogs really don't have much to do after all. They sorta live for events like this.

Sneaky Robots are gaining on us

Don't look back in the mirror. If you do you may notice just how fast the Robot Uprising is approaching!

I haven't been keeping you up to date on all the horrific things out there, but that is just because it is all too scary and because nobody cares.

And since I want to be famous I normally will keep to posting about things you care about.

Now for the stuff you don't:

The Computer has over taken the human brain as the fastest and largest instrument of computational power. The Psych Pundit explains:

"As you may know, the brain is exquisitely designed to process information. Its array of 100 billion neurons, interconnected in a lattice of 100 trillion synapses (connections), is capable of processing an estimated 100 trillion pieces of information every second. This is an unfathomably large amount of computation."

None of my readers knew that Mr. Fancy Pants Scientist. We only knew that K-Fed had written something very obscene to Ms. Spears on a bathroom wall.

"For the first time in history, the human brain was supplanted as the most powerful computer on earth. That distinction is now held by an IBM supercomputer known as Blue-Gene/L, which clocked in this past October at an astonishing 280 trillion operations per second. It has about three times more processing capacity than the human brain!"

Luckily enough for us all that computational power is not going to waste, but instead is being used to improve our national nuclear missile arsenal.

Over at Robots.net they have a link that showcases a militarized robot that can choose to kill you or not. And if you think you can defeat Robots with guns, you are dumber than marrying an unemployed backup dancer without a prenuptial agreement. That's because Robots can now heal themselves.

We are all fucked. Not as fucked as K-Fed now that he will have to survive on his own. Because some of us still have skills the robots will desire after the overthrow. Me? I am gonna be a love slave. I have always wanted to be a "house" human.

Free advertising

I know I tell you guys how I am nothing like that Drunken Stepfather guy. I've complained before about his constant berating of his audience in search of new hits for his stat counter. But the guy has a point. And I am not talking that nerdy point about how most of you are just lurkers and never post comments and shit like that.

What I am saying is what have you done for me lately? Nothing. Not a goddamn thing is what.

And I have been amusing you with anecdotes from work for over 2 years now, and keeping you up to date on the Robotic uprising, and the growing threat of Fascism. Let's not even mention all the Britney Spears news I throw at you guys. Or maybe you just found that picture of me on one of my blogs and started masturbating to it. I am sure you have spent plenty of spooge covered hours of fun jerking to that.

And for all that I give have you ever once passed on a link that you thought was funny? Sunday I had 6 unique visitors. That should be impossible for a blogist of my caliber. Even if this blog is down in the dumps at least my other blog Bathos is still kinda funny every once and while.

Linking to me is not enough, unless you are the DrugMonkey. DrugMonkey gives me like 80% of my traffic. But the rest of you slackers aren't bringing me up in the office around the water cooler. You aren't sending junk emails in my name out. You're not scribbling my web address in McDonald's bathrooms. What are you doing? Don't give me any shit about how you have a life, cuz then just why the hell do you keep coming back here?

If the only sales I make when my book comes out are to my 3 friends and my Mom, She is going to be really disappointed that she fronted me the money to self publish.

I am posting this so you won't stop visiting here. You're not gonna stop visting are ya? Good.

When I am not working this blog dries out a bit. It is hard for me to come up with ideas to blog about. Nobody wants to read about how much I masturbate in every new post.

When I get bogged down over at Bathos I rely on Hugo Chavez, celebrity stalking, corporate personhood, justice and ethical theory, and Larry King's mini-wives.

At RomiusTexis I just substitute the work inspired inspired angst and ennui that you have all come to expect, with obsessive reporting on robots, Big Brother, election fraud, general conspiracy theories, and strange news.

Speaking of which I just TIVO'd a documentary on the Human Quadrepeds. As you know I am your #1 source for quadruped info on the net.

I am so gonna have to live blog that recorded broadcast.

Meet Jeramey. Jeramey likes to steal my couch when I live blog for you. Jeramey is an enemy of Democracy.

"Jeremy" is also the enemy of my good sleep. I put Jeremy in quotes because that is the pseudonym my littlest brother uses in the hood. Cuz you really don't want anyone to know your name when you're doing business out there.

I should have also put "sleep" in quotes as a good nights rest on a couch is probably an oxymoron. A reader of mine wanted to be me for just one day. Believe me, one day would be enough.

You're probably thinking that if your life was exactly like the TV show 2 and Half Men your life would be pretty glamorous. I mean everything sounds glamorous when it is on TV. I live with my two brothers just like on TV.

Only I we don't live in a mansion. Neither of my brothers are rich. And the only chicks that stalk us aren't all that hot.

My middle brother is like the Charlie character and I guess that makes me kinda like the nerdy Alan. And that makes an almost 30 year old little brother a fat prepubescent kid.

Only you're not fat, Jeramey.

I told Jeramey that I was gonna write a book and he might be a character in it. He seemed excited at first. Like 60% of the population he believes his life story should be made into a book. But after thinking it over, he quickly became apprehensive.

"Can that Jeramey have all his teeth?"

Of course he can't. Who wants to read about a Jeramey with all his teeth? Pearl Jam did that all to death a while back. Nobody wants to read about a redneck Jeramey who steals his brothers "long" couch when he is out protecting Democracy.

They want to read about the toothless "Jeramey" who invents a second persona for his wacky adventures in the 'hood.

I know Jeramey you'd rather sleep on the floor than sleep on the love seat i.e. the short couch, but that doesn't give you the right to commanderie my lovely long-couch.

Even if it is 2 am and I still haven't moved my ass from the computer to the "bed."

Of course I really don't have to worry about either one of my brothers reading this, as both have told me they can't make it past 2 paragraphs down of any written word. Even if it involves one of them. Even if this is source material for the greatest novel in the world.

Live Bloggin the Election with your host Romius T.

9:41 p.m.

Maybe my near total loss of faith in American Democracy isn't valid. MSNBC is projecting a huge "wave" for the democrats. I thought with all of Karl Rove's "just you see" smirks that he had fixed those Diebold's to go his way.

But then I heard rumors that the DemoCrats had gotten tuff and started in on the election fraud too. Maybe that's what got it for us.

Hardball's Chris Matthews needs to give Governor Dean a break about his position on Iraq. He knows that Dean is against the war. That doesn't mean that we can just "get up and leave."

I know Chris Matthews is spinning that he was always against the War in Iraq, but I know that ain't true.


Matthews should also avoid the word "Tsunami" I find that word to be on par with the "N" word. We're just not allowed to use that word anymore after Katrina. And those Indonesian disasters.

9:50

Florida's Governorship is called the Repooplicans. Boo. Christ he's so gay too! Why are all the male politicians in Florida gay?

9:51

I've been pumping MSNBC because of their Internet broadcast coverage.

10:08

I am eating all my nieces Halloween candy. I mention this because I just turned on CNN and saw how fat Bill Bennet is.

10:20

Q. What's the percentage of folks that can delude themselves about a candidate in Virginia?

A. 56% of Virginians think George "Macca" Allen respects minorities.

10:23

How come gerrymandering didn't work for the Republicans? All it took was a disaster of a War, lying, sex scandals, etc, etc. for the Dem's to finally pull it off.

10:24

All my fellow bloggers don't forget to email me and leave comments I will post . Let's make this interactive. Next time I do something like this I promise to give some advanced warning. My readers are so damn funny I would love to get them all involved.

10:33

Rick Perry of Texas was just re-elected. This prevents the possibility of the funniest governor of all time Kinky Friedman.Kinky enjoys giving the middle finger more than Britney ever loved K-fed.

10:42

In her acceptance speech, Hillary Clinton looks like a banana wearing a pearl necklace. Funny, the biggest applause line Hillary got was for congratulating Eliot (the next President of the United States) Spitzer for his victory in the New York State Governorship.

10:43

Speaking of speeches, the first time I ever liked or had respect for Senator Rick Santorum was his concession speech. Go to the MSNBC video page to watch it. Rick is human? C'mon. Where's the hate man? It's the hate that got you where you are. Fuckin' homos didn't vote for ya, huh?

10:51

Heath Shuler the former NFL quarterback wins an election as a democrat. Olbermann's comment was hilarious "he finally completed a pass." He never did that in the NFL. Since I am a Cowboy fan when he played for the team that cannot be mentioned I was always happy to see him suit up.

10:55

Democrats win the House! MSNBC calls the election in the House for the good guys! Subpoena power means an investigation into the Downing Street Memo.

11:00

Jon Stewart is on.

11:09.

Fox still has not called it. They have the Dem's at 13 seats.

11:15

The Daily show calls the election against Katherine Harris. Ahh. Kathy loses.

11:25

Dan Rather makes his first appearance on my TIVO'd edition of the Midtacular. On Hillary's landslide "She Run Away With It Like a Hobo with a Sweet Potato Pie."

11:46

I guess this is how you are supposed to LIVE Blog!

12:29

I was gonna make a joke about Heath Shuler's carrer stats, but they won't come up on NFL.com. Democrat election trick? You decide!

12:55

Senator Allen of Virginia went to bed and won't concede. Concede Senator Allen! Concede! I guess I might as well go to bed then too. Visions of Chris Matthews running through my head. But anything is better than a naked Andrea Mitchell running through it.

Hacking Democracy

The epic HBO documentary "Hacking Democracy" is available in full on Google video.

This is a must see program, if don't have HBO go see it NOW!!!

If you think there might be something to the whole "election fraud" you will know there is something to it after viewing this program.

Buster Poindexter Must Die

I have been avoiding posting about this shit man, because I need some fucking dignity.

You must push play to read the rest of this post. Otherwise you will not be able to share the sheer hell that is my life.

Once you hear it, this song refuses to leave your brain. It simply deposits itself, like a certain human autoimmune disease, right in your gut-where it waits to strike at you when you are at your weakest.

But as my brother likes to say "at some point you begin to ask yourself, not 'if' but... how many flies in your eye are ok?"

"The Shame and Yeast of it all."

"I did not sign up for this."

It was the only thought that ran through my head, following the explanation by my department manager for our new procedures for selling French Bread.

Well, there was also this:

"I'd rather eat raw the unwashed placenta from Suri Cruise than do this."

We must place a small cd player on the top of a hot rack full of bread, playfully decorated with a Carmen Miranda fruit hat, and blast Poindexter's "hit" while attempting to hock bread to our typically unresponsive customers.

"Some of the stores are even forming conga lines for the hot racks."

Buster Poindexter should die a painful death.

A hot... hot ...hot... death if you will. I wonder though, maybe Buster doesn't realize his masterpiece of kitsch has been appropriated by corporate miscreants.

Maybe I should get somebody from the recording industry to find out if we are paying royalties.

Perhaps, Buster is much of a victim here as I am. Perhaps. But just in case, Buster, I want you to know, if you gave them your permission, I will hunt you down... you dress wearing clown of a fag.

The Butcher. The Baker. The Candlestick maker. An introduction to a done deal.

I have decided to Interrupt whatever narrative flow this blog may have in order to take advantage of some of Blogger's new advances.

I am going to post the 2 missing posts about my short grocery store career. That way if you click on the grocery store work blog label then you will get all the posts from both of my blogs together.
****

Sorry to interrupt all the alone time you've had lately with my light posting.

I am working in a bakery at a local grocery store.

My job consists of placing endless rows of toll house cookies on baking sheets and then into a giant oven big enough to bake several Jews.

I am gonna let you in on a little secret. Flies. The Flies. Big juicy southern Florida flies. Big enough to put on the grill.

A brief intro to the cast of characters:

Marci de sade-

Married with 4 kids. Her husband is 'well connected' within the AB. That's the Aryan Brotherhood to you and me. Her father has given her a Walmart card that he pays off. I tease her relentlessly regarding this. She has asked me if "I wanted to go shopping with it."

Key Talents:Cake decorator and perhaps the finest double barreled fly swatter I have ever seen.

Favorite quote:"Ever had an abscessed tooth? I have one."

About J. -

Female co-worker who worked as a penal officer in a maximum security prison.

Her only regret? When she had the chance to kill a prisoner, she only wounded him.

Key talent. Good with a shotgun.

Favorite Quote:"Can anyone do with out 10 dollars until Tuesday?"

About Me-

Secretly rated Mike and the Mechanics "Nobody's Perfect" as a 4 Star song on his Yahoo Radio Player.

Key Talents:

Using both charm and wit, convinces people the purple Pontiac Sunfire he often borrows from his mother doesn't make him gay. Took it upon himself to "once daily" check the cake freezer display and dump all the frozen flies from the cake lids. Has yet to be on time.

M&M-The boss.

Likes-to throw boxes around and yell.

Dislikes-customers who only buy from the discount rack.

Favorite quote:"Ignore me."

Fun Facts about my former job:

No less than 3 dogs along the 4 mile walk route to work must be avoided in order to arrive safely. Two of the dogs are of "Marmadukian proportions."

How listening to Yahoo Radio for six hours will stifle your dreams and make you lose your mind

If my name was Paolo Nutini I probably wouldn't write a song about how a new pair of shoes makes you feel "alright."

I know what you are gonna say that the King, "Elvis" Pressley wrote a song about wearing shoes and he wasn't gay. True. But Elvis wasn't about no "post-modernism either."

He wrote that in the margins of some Sparkle Hayter novel.

The king was always like that, scribbiling down important stuff on the top of Dominoes Pizza boxes while he was sitting on the John. The King just wouldn't "get" going to thrift stores to find your style.

But I am just sure I can hear Paolo Nutini's rebuttal:

Look man, I like shoes because it is like expressive. It's refreshing. You come home and change your socks throw some anti-fungus powder on your feet and it's like refreshing. Really ...really ..refreshing.

And at the end of the day this thing about the shoes, it's about Art. It is Art.I don't care how many times I have to have this conversation with you guys in the buisness.

You guys just don't get it.

Now go visit my Radio Station!

I'd need three blogs devoted to the Surveillance Society if I wanted to keep up with all the news

That our society moves closer and closer each day to a police state requires little speculation on my part.

You don't need to be Alex Jones to get caught up in the conspiracy hype.

Today I learned that George Bush has made it easier to declare Martial Law in the United States.

"The law also facilitates militarized police round-ups and detention of protesters, so called "illegal aliens," "potential terrorists" and other "undesirables" for detention in facilities already contracted for and under construction by Halliburton.

That's right. Under the cover of a trumped-up "immigration emergency" and the frenzied militarization of the southern border, detention camps are being constructed right under our noses, camps designed for anyone who resists the foreign and domestic agenda of the Bush administration. "

Boston Celtics Dance Team-way ugly

I can't wait to blog about my road trip. I am headed from Tampa to Tempe via I-10. That means I will party down in New Orleans and visit my old hometown of Houston.

I am sure to bump into plenty of hookers at the Gainsville Florida Greyhound Bus Depot, the best bus depot in the world.

Until then I am pretty bored and I will have to spend my time surfing the net and maturbating to the half naked women on the internet like you losers do.

That's why I read the Bastardly because I enjoy any blog that uses Jailbait as a category.

Like the bastardly I also tend to be snarky and gossipy, but I am comfortable with that fact. Any website that allows gossip to stay firmly and securely within the confines of my latent misogyny is fine with me.

It's simply sexist to insist that gossip should be reserved for women.

And just like the Bastardly, I can't get over how ugly, fat and manly the current "dance team" for the Boston Celtics is.

The Celtic Dance Team makes Kelly Clarckson's new hairdo look flattering. After all she is just fat with a bad wig, but it wouldn't take you looking under her hood to convince you she had a pussy.

Thanks Drug Nazi

I want to thank the Drug Nazi for sending me all his traffic today.

I'd also like to take credit for the Drug Nazi becoming so popular.

Long before he began his resurgence, I was one of his first 3 readers. I think it was my encouragement and kind words that kept him writing.

And I am certain that the time I talked him out of substituting cyanide for those tylenol 3 pills kept our dear nazi out of jail. Though that would have made for a great blog.

I could just see the Drug Nazi complaining to the warden about how bad the living conditions were.

"We only get basic cable?"

Rest up old chum. I hear LSD was approved by Dick Cheney for use against unlawful combatants.

Now that I think about it, maybe you are in jail. Sweet.

I've been Memed. 5 things you did not know about me.

Katie has Memed me.

1. I am only answering this meme because it is easier than thinking of a post myself now that I am not working on this blog.
2. This Blog is going on walkabout. I am taking this blog on the road. It will be called "On the road with Romius T." I will visit exciting cities like Gainesville, Florida.
3. See you guys in Tempe Real Soon!!!
4. I secretly hate being memed or tagged. I have had a disastrous relationship with memes. And even though I support Darwin and evolutionary theory, I think the concept of meme is as scientific as Forensic Science.
5. Fried coke sounds like a good idea to me.

For your viewing pleasure.

Since RomiusTexis is mostly the minor accomplishments of one Romius T. while he is at work and since Romius T. is not working you could try going to this guy's weblog.

Source: Metafilter

"When you have a blog , and you're the Special Representative of the UN in Darfur, be careful about what you write. Jan Pronk's blog gives you a good idea in what a high level UN diplomat actually does, and how difficult it is to get anything done in a country torn by war. Oh, and check these photos out, if you just want the non-political goodness."

The Butcher of Palmetto.

I am not the kinda person who likes drama. I try to avoid drama in my personal life as much as possible. I go so far as to avoid watching TNT because I dislike drama that much.

That being just said, I think we all say that we dislike drama. So I don't think you should just take the word of people when they say something. Because there are facts in the world we can discover things. And sometimes those facts have a way with not corresponding to our expectations.

The other day I went to work and both my store manger and department were waiting for me. Turns out they "don't have enough work to justify the number in the bakery." But they did have the "numbers" to justify hiring a person at the meat department. So I was offered the choice unemployment/meat department.

"You're not gonna quit are you?" The bakery manger asks. She repeats the question three or four times before I can think about an answer.

"No, I am not going to quit." I finally decide. "I guess I will take the butcher position."

"Great." The store manager declares and then he inquires about my payscale.

"Oh. Well that's fine." It is? I am not sure you heard correctly then.

"You start tomorrow." He informs me.

Nice.

My first day as the Butcher of Palmetto is my last.

Customer: "Can you rinse off the ice off my crabs?"

Me: (but to myself) "Are you fucking serious?"

The first and only lesson you need to know in regards to the etiquette of the butcher's block at your local grocery store.

1. If you cannot afford to pay for the "ice" that sticks to your crab meat, you cannot afford to buy crab meat. Try frozen ground turkey. It comes in a at around $1.69 a pound. And I would be happy as fuck to rinse it the fuck off for you.

How I stopped working and started loving being a bakery team member.

You would think standing around in a 34 degree cooler with your hands in frozen chicken blood would be the bomb. But it's not all what it's cracked up to be.

First, I would like to remind you that chicken blood is basically fecal matter. By basically, I mean it would be cleaner for me to have the chicken squat over my face and take a shit in my mouth than it would for me to rub my eyes after working with this product.

I only make this point to indicate to you that it is impossible to work in the meat department and not get blood splashed in to your eyes. They should issue you one of those high school chemistry class goggles that only the nerds wore when they toss you your apron.

Second. I don't really have a second. Working with guts and intestines was not what I signed up for. I will not even mention that the meat department requires you to work.

"We are not even in our busy season yet." I was told by one of the very brave meat guys. We really need to have 2 or three times the number of guys working that we have.

The first and only rule you need to learn on how to make sure you frighten the staff on their first day of work.

1. Tell newly hired staff members "how it's just a matter of time before they get a rash that starts near your fingers and ends at your shoulders." But "not to worry about it, you probably won't die."

Got a Job?

The Minor Accomplishments of RomiusTexis.

I am listening to Keith and the Girl on my I-pod and washing dishes. The dishes are actually large metal trays covered with bits of baked on bread.

Baked-on dough does not come off easy. I have to let it soak for several hours and then take a scouring pad to it.

I apply myself to the task and begin with forceful elbowed jerks to the pans followed by splashes of hot water to rinse. The banging and rinsing of pots and pans in a sink located at the back of this bakery makes it a bit difficult for me to hear you calling for assistance sometimes.

"Excuse me!" "Excuse me!!" "Excuse ME!!!"

At first all I hear are the pans banging against stainless steal sinks, but soon it dawns on me that someone is yelling. Yelling. And I mean YELLING at me at the top of their lungs.

It is the screaming voice of a child no more than 6 years old. And if you have ever had the unfortunate experience of being a parent then you know the freakishly large lung capacity that human offspring have.

This little fucker is standing there and facing me with his hand on his hip muttering "it's about time" and asking me for his goddamn "free cookie."

I am not ashamed to tell you my reaction. At least the reaction in my head.

"You little fucker. I am gonna strangle you. I'll watch as your last breath leaves your body, then I am going to cut that lifeless body into bite sized portions I'll ingest in front of your sibling. I will then shit out your sibling with dysenteric force and compel your brother... that oh so willing accomplice, to eat your remains as shit."

But instead all I did was look around for his parents in the hopes that I could give them a look that says "Is that really necessary? Couldn't you learn that child some manners?"

But in my world even this small amount of satisfaction will not come. Instead I just meekly hand over the cookie failing to give the miniature tyrant his napkin. He views my restrained philanthropy with the native unimaginative curiosity of his age, operating only at Level 1 (Pre-Conventional) on Kolberg's Moral theory of development.

1. Obedience and punishment orientation
2. Self-interest orientation

Psychology 101 is not very helpful to me at this point in my life. I don't want tips to help me understand the ego-centric nature of childhood wants.

I only need tips on getting the balls up for killing the personification of those childhood wants.

I understand fully now how people crack. When interviewed the friends and family members of discovered serial killers always trot out the same hollow cliches. Like..."He had a job." "Seemed normal enough." "He seemed like a pretty smart guy."

Just smart enough to to be aware of my growing and total frustration with life. And my complete lack of ability to persuade hot chicks to fuck me. I was once asked, "What's it like to be you?"

Now you know. Imagine if you will a man with no discernible talents or skill who winces at even the slightest tug from inertia to defend his low rung beta-status.

"Poke that little fuckers eye out!" Shouted out my ghosts of evolutionary past. But I abstained. And because of that abstention I am ashamed. And too pathetic for words.

What if I were to lazy to post today?

Couldn't I just google for a few 'grocery store blogs' and send them my massive traffic?

This Garrick knows way too many languages and is "made ill at ease" in grocery stores "by the artificial lighting, the monstrously huge red and green peppers, the giant, perfectly yellow Costa-Rican bananas."

I don't really know why he is afraid of large red bell peppers. They are the best kind. Also I tend to think we are a bit high up on the food chain to be concerned by something without teeth.

Any visit to the grocery store for Garrick becomes unsettling as he "wander(s) from vegetable to vegetable like a lost nomad, gazing with glazed eyes at the products of pesticides, herbicides, fungicides."

"I can spend thirty, forty-five, fifty-six minutes wandering the isles thinking of consumerist food bliss. Buying prepackaged this and precooked that," but "eerily, my societal musings don’t end here."

Getting eerily freaked out by ordinary things like grocery stores, leaves Garrick plenty of time for his Early Critical Theory ponderings on preferred shopper’s cards, RFID's, weird stickers, consumerism and just plain old Idenity Theory.

Good luck with all that thinking. Just remember, Garrick, too much thinking and the Terrorists win.

The Baker's Moral Code. A code I can't live by.

"Do you have an 99 cent Donuts?"

Asks Diabetic Amputee Girl.

Sure she has one leg already amputated, and yes the other one is grossly swollen. But as she likes to say "I needs my sweets!"

So now I have to ask myself "Do I have some kind of 'Moral' obligation to prevent said single amputee girl from actually becoming double amputee girl?"

Too late! Before I can get all "Kantian" on Diabetic Amputee Girl she powers up her scooter and races over to the reduced table and snags the last three bags of donuts.

"It's the only time I can afford them. When they are reduced and all!"


What sort of insulin doping junkie knows how to time her visit to 8 p.m., right after I break down the bakery bins? Nice.

***
Attention Shoppers:

From now on if you make the manager call "customer service to the bakery" when I am on the john taking a shit, you will be getting a very special chocolate chip cookie.

P.S.

If you are gonna make me leave the washroom early just so your stupid little kid can get a chocolate chip cookie, you might wanna pretend to buy something from the bakery. Grocery stores are notorious for their sectarian infighting, so I could care less that that you will be buying 3 dollars worth of fish sticks.

***

And now more of:

ASK the Baker.

Q. "Dear Mr. Baker, what is the difference between French Bread and Italian Bread?"

A. You mean other than the label on the cardboard box of frozen dough in the freezer? Not a damn bit of difference. I think we charge more for the Italian. But when we run out of the French bread we just substitute the Italian for it. Don't worry you can't tell the difference and either can we.

You want a real answer? In theory Italian is supposed to be chewier, but I am not an Epicurean expert. I am trained only in the meticulous nuances of placing frozen dough on metallic trays. And you're just going to slather it up with butter and garlic spread anyway completely obliterating any taste difference if there was one to start with. So I have a question for you. Why do you care?