is totally awesome. I love that dude. He’s all in the middle of raising a family now, whereas I’m just getting done. He’s a few years younger than me, better looking (but only physically), and nicer, though he doesn’t seem it at first. He comes off as a dick at first, but as you go along you realize what a nice guy he is. He’s just blunt.
Give him some time.
Me, I come off as a nice guy immediately, but as you go along you realize I’m a pompous dick who probably thinks you’re stupid. My head nods are empty.
I’ve always considered Simon my brother, even though he’s my cousin. We grew up together and neither one of us had brothers. So.
He teaches English for a living. In high school. To inner city kids who have no interest in school, let alone English. He fights a losing battle every day and is often demoralized, the poor little bastard.
Day in and day out he does it, even though he feels like he’s doing nothing.
Recently, he was back here from Arizona and I was very excited to see him. I even showered. Seriously, I was stoked.
We hooked up at the bar and just got BLASTED. I mean, shots, beers, shots, beers, drinking, drinking. I’m telling you, we got puke-out-car-window-piss-the-goddamn-bed drunk.
And now it’s like I never even saw him cuz I don’t remember it. I still miss him!
Weird. They tell me I was with Simon, but for all I know they could be lying. Was it just a dream?
August 2011
I shit you not. That was the name of my high school guidance counselor. Bucky Beach. Bucky FUCKING Beach.
His real name was James, but for some bizarre reason went by Bucky.
He was an old hippie who had long hair and little round John Lennon glasses and he always wanted to “touch base” or “have a sit down.” Sometimes, he even wanted to “rap” about things.
In school, I was always in trouble. I kept skipping and got into fights and smoked weed out in the parking lot at lunch. I could have been just another loser except I got good grades, so I was all over everyone’s radar. If I had been a D student, no one would have paid me any mind.
So I had to constantly go and talk to Bucky FUCKING Beach.
Every conversation with him was like this (I’m paraphrasing for honesty): Bucky: “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Me: *shrugs shoulders, looks out the window*
A couple years ago, I searched for Bucky Beach on Facebook, but didn’t find him. He’d be in his 60s now. Maybe even 70s.
I remember liking going to see him because it was something different, different than sitting in class. He seemed like he cared, but what the hell do I know?
In June, Florida, America’s flaccid penis, geographically speaking, passed a law requiring all applicants for the federal Temporary Assistance for Needy Families (TANF) program to pass a drug test. Last month, that law went into effect. Florida governor Rick Scott says it’s “unfair for taxpayers to subsidize drug addiction,” you see.
Florida is not alone. A couple of weeks ago, the go-ahead was given in Missouri for the same thing.
The stupid thing about these laws, apart from from being unconstitutional, is that they will do absolutely nothing. In Missouri, for example, the program will cost 2.3 million dollars a year to administer, but will save exactly no money. Not even a penny.
Both measures and the thinking behind them are Republican in nature, of course, and we all know that the basic philosophy of the Republican party is “I got mine. Screw you.” Punishing little children for the transgressions of their parents, however, is a little too draconian, even for Republicans.
Both laws have failsafes built in for the kids. If mommy applies for TANF, pees hot for drugs, she will get TANF anyway. In Florida, she can designate someone else to receive the benefits in her name—her boyfriend, perhaps, or maybe her dealer. In Missouri, the state will designate someone for her, but at high cost. Missouri, I would imagine, will have to hire a bunch of poor people chaperones.
To apply for TANF, you see, you need more than just a cup of fresh, drug-free urine. You need children. The laws will do nothing to save tax dollars since people with children will still get benefits and you can‘t get benefits without children. The laws will, however, do much to waste even more tax dollars.
Basically what has happened is that the Missouri and Florida governments each added a new layer of bureaucracy to make their Republican constituents feel better, even though Republicans like to pretend they are for smaller government.
How stupid is that?
Of course, both laws are unconstitutional and violate the provision against unreasonable search. A similar law was already struck down in Michigan in 2003. Both the Missouri and Florida measures will head to court as well, where millions more in tax dollars will need to be spent in losing the battle.
A recent poll by Rasmussen shows that 53% of Americans support automatic drug testing for welfare applicants, even though automatic drug testing for welfare applicants is unconstitutional, does nothing, is extremely wasteful, and violates the rights and dignity of those who don’t have a lot of money. Nevertheless, most of us think it’s a dandy idea.
Clearly, our nation has the finest educational system in the world.
But the stupidest thing about all of this, the very stupidest thing, is that a conservative philosophy point has, in one fell swoop, flushed hundreds of millions of dollars down the toilet, generated even more bureaucracy, and attacked the privacy and freedom of the poor.
And for nothing. For absolutely nothing.
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actually alcohol addiction permanently alters your brain chemistry. and addictions are mental diseases. I usually find your posts quite amusing but this is kind of dangerous.
That’s ok. It’s interesting that none of the dissenting opinions (to mine) match. Perhaps the real danger lies in the fact that no one knows what addiction really is, and yet more and more behaviors are considered addictive.
I will forever be a thoughtcriminal, questioning and doubting every prevailing opinion simply because of its prevalence.
Introducing an external chemical into your body for a period of time long enough that your personal body chemistry alters itself and incorporates the external chemical in such a way that it can’t properly function without it.
That’s it.
You are not addicted to sex. You are not addicted to shopping.
Sex and shopping provide pleasure, which is the release of serotonin, a chemical already present in your body. You are not addicted to it, just as you are not addicted to adrenaline or to testosterone. Calling yourself addicted to sex or shopping (or anything similar) is simply a cop out so you don’t have to take responsibility for the choices that you make that give you pleasure. Embrace your choices or make different ones, but stop being a pussy.
Addiction is not a disease, since it can be overcome. Diseases are never overcome. They are either cured or maintained. So alcoholism is an addiction to the chemical ethyl alcohol. Nothing more.
So remember, if what you are doing does not involve the introduction of an external chemical into your body chemistry, you are not addicted. You just really, really, really like it.
Just thought I’d clear that up.
And as with all nonfiction books that possess an index, I immediately turned to it and looked up “penis.”
The entry reads: The penis or phallus is most often used as a sign for masculinity or virility.
No shit, Sherlock?
July 2011
Samosa filling
About 2 tbs. of olive oil. Traditionally, ghee is used but i’m not traditional, so…
So take an onion and chop it up. Take a couple cloves of garlic, mince ‘em up. Take a little ginger, chop it up. About a tsp. Oh, I remove the ginger skin, too. Take a large potato or a couple small potatoes (about a pound). Chop into cubes, like about half an inch or so. get a bag of frozen organic peas, open it, and take out a cup of them. You will need a pinch of the following: chili powder, mustard seeds, cumin & corriander (both ground), tumeric, salt. Put the onions & ginger in the oil, which should be hot. Stir and cook till softened a bit. 5 or so minutes. Put the rest of the crap in now. Stir. Add a tablespoon of lemon juice and and couple tablespoons of water. Stir somemore. Cook another 5 or so minutes, maybe a little longer. Take off the stove and allow to cool.
Pastry!
2 cups AP flour, pinch of salt, stick of organic butter that’s cool, but not extremely firm (i.e. cold). A little less than half a cup of extremely cold water, even iced water. Egg yolk, beaten.
O, let’s see…Put the flour and salt in a bowl and mix in the butter with your hands, rub it in until the flour is, like, crumbly. Add about half the water and keep mixing, adding more water until you have a nice soft dough…you may not knead all the water (ha,ha…see what I did there?) or you may knead a little more (again! goddamn, I’m a funny fucking cook). Once you got yourself a nice soft dough, knead it briefly (proper usage. not funny at all). Now roll out the dough flat and cut into circles about the size and shape of DVDs. Make a stack of them, putting plastic wrap between them and chill for awhile in the fridge, oh, about 20 minutes.
Pull out and stick a couple spoonfulls of the filling in the center of the pastries, fold over and seal with a little egg yolk. If you seal them with a fork, it’s prettier. Arrage on flat sheets and brush tops with a little more egg yolk and bake about 15 or 20 minutes.
BAM! Samosas!
The rice is just long grain rice made with salt, ground pepper, oil, and thinly slice onions and bell peppers…..
Today’s menu
- bowls of creamy asparagus soup with homemade onion buns
- spicy potato samosas with savory rice-n-peppers
- also two baguettes for good measure
All organic and made from scratch!
We got two plans: Obama’s and the Tea Baggers’. Everyone has picked a side and are bitching and yelling and whining and fighting……to raise the debt ceiling, to go FURTHER into debt.
Hilarious. You’ve heard the phrase “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” I’m sure. Well, it seems to me our motto should be “If it’s broke, don’t fix it.”
Moody’s: Neither plan will work. So, pick the shitty idea that’s in line with your philosophy, say the other guys are destroying the country, and watch the country be destroyed.
I think we’d totally rock our new Third World style, so I ain’t even mad. For real changes to occur, some real shit has to go down. Busting our asses to maintain the status quo is stupid.
Something bit me. I’m out in my yard, hanging out with the night, and something bit me. It was dark and I didn’t see it and it STUNG. Not a mosquito. It hurt. I brushed whatever it was off and went inside to look at it under the light. A spot of blood, a tiny hole, an elevated bump. Still kinda hurts. (It was like 10 minutes ago).
So I spoke before how I have a real job through the Rally. Tonight was fun. I actually like working hard, physically. I like the mellow, easy going feeling afterward. My favorite waitress worked tonight and she tipped me 13 bucks.
A waitress who tips the cook=ABSOLUTE FUCKING GODDESS.
I’ve drank four beers and feel quite pleasant. I dislike getting stupid drunk these days, these older, more responsible days. I do enjoy a nice beer buzz, though.
I WATCHED THE FIRST EPISODE OF SEASON 9 PROJECT RUNWAY!!!! I almost came in my shorts. God, I love that show. I don’t have tv and get everything off the internet. Snag the torrent here.
I have no life, really. Haven’t been writing, really. I work. I sweat. I drink. But it’s only temporary. I would never take a job that didn’t END. A few weeks, a couple thousand bucks, and I’m outta there.
Life is good.
they talk about having a 42% graduation rate.
since when is it considered a bragging right when roughly only 2 out of every 5 students attending your university actually graduate?
Because it’s a realistic number. If 100% graduate then the curriculum is shit. Anyone can do it. Nowadays, people think of college as a sort of birthright that takes them into “good job” land where they’ll have a nice car and a big house and 2.5 children. Then they get old and die. In previous ages, college was where you went to get educated, where you went to become a real member of the “elite”…intellectually speaking. It was a weeding process. In college, you should leave your averageness behind and become special. If you can’t do it, then you’re part of the 58%
:)
Growing older = Growing sadder
As a man in his late hundreds, I respectfully disagree.
Life fucking SUCKS when you’re young. There are little things about getting older that are cool, things like thinking IT’S OK and I’M OK and IT’S REALLY OK.
When I was young, everything was a fucking crisis. Now I’m like don’t call me unless someone dies.
Took a real, live job at a restaurant through the Sturgis Rally. The guy who fries up your mozzarella sticks while you suck down your beer? That’ll be me :)
Howdy. I’m Mike. I enjoy intoxication, long, drawn out blowjobs, and pipe tobacco. I speak English, and very well.
The place is called Shipwreck Lee’s and it’s a bar alongside the highway, doing its part to contribute to the state’s DUI income.
Everything is fried or grilled. No brainer cooking. I like it.
The guy who owns it, Shipwreck Lee himself, is a former container ship captain who moved a zillion miles away from the sea to retire and open a bed-n-breakfast-plus-bar.
Shipwreck Lee’s. You’d think it would be an Asian seafood place, but it’s not. It’s just a little bar on the way to Mt. Rushmore. We’re like 15 miles away. Across the road is Reptile Gardens, a reptilian zoo I actually robbed in my younger days and wrote about in my book. Read it here if you want.
Anyways. Good times.
In other news, just had an in-depth convo about oral sex with a girl who has a very, very pretty mouth. I showed her my tongue and my fingers.
I think we’re going to get along just fine.
A fucking brothel! How cool is that? It was right down the road, a big purple house with even purpler trim. I drove by it all the time. I’m gonna snap a photo of it and post it on Tumblr cuz I’m awesome like that.
Each day, I like this town more and more.
So I’m all wondering what the girls were like. Were they hot? Were they even girls? Were they drug-addled zombies with scrawny legs and missing teeth?
Personally, I like to imagine them as hot and totally in love with their jobs, saying things like, “I’ve always been a very sexual person!” You know, Playboy TV prostitutes.
But they weren’t streetwalkers, that’s for sure. They had a madam, a whole business going on, an actual ‘client list’, and I totally missed it. I even google “Brothels in my area” on a nightly—nay—hourly basis.
Nothing.
