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Tag Archives: karma

Best to stay upwind

Perfume was invented by the ancient Egyptians.

They used it in religious ceremonies, burial preparations and daily use.

It is some of the most expensive liquid on the planet, ounce for ounce.

So, the modern usage for women is to lightly apply it.

So why do you need to know that?

Because I am under an aromatic assault.

Someone reeks.

Remember what I said about the modern usage?

Lightly being the key word there.

How the fuck that morphed into dipping yourself in a large wine barrel of perfume daily using some sort of repurposed sexual rope and pulley system is beyond me.

The term “Old French Whore” comes to mind.

Not to dabble in misogynistic slut shaming, but now I am wondering what kind of old French whore.

Not like a modern one that you know she could bathe more, but she has a meth issue that gets in the way of productive thought, but a French revolution era French whore that bathes once a year, has an opium dependency and is rocking that whole “Les Miserable” vibe.

My nose actually hurts, how is that possible?
Growing up, one of my grandmother’s friends was an Avon sales lady.

And while grandma loved her perfume, You could smell the Avon lady when she pulled up at the curb.

I think the outrage, and sinus pain, that I am feeling is that the woman sitting next to me is not from my grandmother’s era.

She appears to be in her 30’s.

Stunning Japanese women that have an obvious talent for dressing and accessorizing never go wrong with perfume.

It boggles the mind that a woman in stiletto heels would not realize she smells like Miss Redneck at the homecoming tractor pull.

I am attracted and repulsed.

Let me clarify that.

My mind is repulsed.

My penis is lacking a nose or any sort of restraint, he finds her wonderful and would like to wear her ass for a hat.

(I am sure I will pay for that last line somehow, Karma has been taking cheap shots lately.)

The ring on her left hand tells me there is a mister somewhere, working his ass off to afford her expensive shoes and barrels of cheap perfume.

I wonder if his lack of a sense of smell has held him back in life?

Or perhaps he was raised in the family business, hand cleaning septic tanks.

Maybe she is the trophy/fetish wife?

None of my business, although my penis is nosey-rosey today.

The second my coffee cooled to the point that I figured I was offending some coffee based diety by not drinking it, I fled the building.

It took a full five minutes of walking and breathing deeply to clear out.

In thru the mouth at first, out thru the nose, just to push the crap out, then breathing in thru the nose after awhile.

And then I smelled the perfume on my shirt.

And realized I was sporting a semi against my will.

Karma, you are a twisted fuck.

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Posted by on March 31, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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Here’s why you’re wrong.

As human beings, once we get out of our teens, we live our lives based on theories.

There are thousands of theories about work, careers, relationships, spirituality…etc.

You name the subject, somebody has a theory about it.

But not all of them are useful.

For instance: (If you did not see this coming, my theory is that you are stupid. Thats not your fault, by the way, most people are stupid.)

I have a theory that people that are born in or move to places that are freezing in the Winter are being punished for crimes committed in another life.

Not murder, but maybe petty theft, vandalism, that sort of thing.

Cold weather is a karmic community service kind of punishment.

The truly heinous crimes? I have a theory about that.

Cows, pigs and chickens were pedophiles and murderers in previous lives.

The cosmos has ruled that they should be eaten, and who am I to get in the way of that?

That is the foundational theory behind my “Being a vegetarian while eating mostly meat” life choice.

Seafood? My theory is that they were the innocent ones in past lives, the victims of various crimes.

Eating them is disgusting, they are living beings and deserve respect.

Moving on.

Some, in fact most, theories are so wrong that you almost wonder what kind of horrible abuse had to happen earlier in whoever came up with that theory that caused their mind to manufacture this fucked up equation.

Like the idea that “Liking” or “Sharing” a meme on Facebook is anything other than a totally selfish act.

Here’s why:

The tragedy in France, when the terrorists killed 130 innocents in the name of Allah?

A massive amount of people superimposed the French Flag over their profile pic.

What did that do for the French?

Not a goddam thing.

What did that do for the person with the pic?

It says “Hey, I know that what happened is bad, BUT DON’T FORGET ABOUT ME! Look at how caring and sad I am. Remember me today.”

Argue that one and dismiss it, I dare you.

And later today or tomorrow, it will creep into your thoughts and you will think about it again.

Why?

Because the truth is like that.

BS disappears without a whimper, like any speech/excuse from a Clinton, they never enter your head again.

Mainly because they had no weight or mass, and just disappeared into the ether.

BS is like that.

I can’t tell you how many people have come back to me to admit they were wrong.

I once told a hardcore animal rescue friend that perhaps the animals she was trying to save were pedophiles in their last life and this is her punishment.

Did I spin doctor this up to fit her semi-buddist view of reincarnation?

Maybe.

She laughed, flipped me off, called me a name and pretended to let it go.

Right.

The view from my ivory tower is stunning and the air is so clear that I could see it brewing in her head from a distance.

Didn’t see her for several weeks, but she said an interesting thing when I did.

“You asshole, do you know how much that stupid theory has screwed with my head over the last few weeks?”

Yes, yes I do.

Do you really think I do this just for shits and giggles?

The actual reason I do this comes from a pretty dark little theory I have.

I have a theory that only half of the people you see thruout your day actually exist.

The rest are just figments of your imagination.

Before you dismiss that, how many of them have you physically touched to proved they are actually here and not just illusions or mirages?

Like shimmering water on hot pavement, maybe they are a refraction of reality passing thru the perceived densities of hot and cold air, happy and sad emotions, pain and orgasm sensations. (This one WILL fuck with you later)

Why are they there?

Evolutionary thinning of the herd on an existential level.

Those that chase the illusions and try to “Be a better person”.

And those at the opposite end of that spectrum that view them as interesting toys to be messed with for my personal amusement.

But thats just a theory.

You’re welcome.

 
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Posted by on February 5, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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Naughty or nice?

“The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit.” (Proverbs 18:21)

Eat it, bitches.

That has always been one of those Proverbs that I am sure is directed at me.

Because while some will end up eating its fruit, I seem to binge a lot on it.

There has always been a certain amount of heretical flow to the blog that I have enjoyed.

Since I am the generator, editor, publisher and the only critic that is consulted, what I say goes.

I like that.

Despite my rotten bully demeanor, I do employ a certain level of fairness and morality to the process.

Basically, I am a good person, better than most and good to the poor.

My kids love me as do my parents and everyone tolerates my shit, which I am appreciative of.

And I just upped my game.

On my road to moral superiority, I have made the decision to become a vegetarian.

Murder is murder, people, no getting around that.

I will not eat seafood or shellfish, they are living beings and deserve respect.

Chicken is delicious and I tend to eat a LOT.

Cannot turn down beef, no matter how hard I try.

And I LOVE pork!

In fact, I do not really care for most vegetables.

This may seem like odd statements coming from a dedicated vegetarian.

However, I have always thought that maybe chickens, cows and pigs were criminals in their past lives and this is some sort of karmic justice.

Who am I to fight the system?

Since I started being a better person, I find myself noticing the sad failings of those around me.

Like at the Toyota dealership.

Total discrimination.

I asked to test drive a Prius and they told me that being Hetero, I am not allowed.

So unfair, I am the victim in this.

But I am not bitter. (HA!)

Ok, that one was stupid, but a little funny.

You take what you can get around the holidays.

Speaking of the holidays, I was just talking to one of those delusional people that grew up in Southern California, raised in the sunshine, but now lives in one of those GODAWFUL frozen places that gets too friggin cold breathe and they spend all of their time trying to convince others that still live in paradise that the frozen place doesn’t suck.

Yes it does, it sucks a lot.

Moving on, I realize that I am running out of people to piss off.

And yet, no matter how many I piss off, you will all forgive me, no matter how mad you are.

Tis the season, and all that.

Without warning, your overly twisted panties will suddenly untwist, the planets will align and a sincere love of all things bitter will wash over you like sunshine on a cold day.

You will begin to see life thru bitter colored glasses and wonder what your whiny problem was in the first place.

Perhaps you will find yourself running down the street waving at passersby.

“Merry Christmas, Bedford Falls!”

And almost unnoticed, a bell rings softly.

And a bitter blogger will get his wings.

Merry Christmas, one and all.

 
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Posted by on December 18, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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Change is in the air.

First, a haiku:

 

Dancing words on page,

Literary merriment,

Sooth my soul in print.

 

I was raking a zen pebble garden for an hour before composing that.

I contemplated my fourth shakra the whole time.

Why so negative?

I am dedicating the blog to a higher conciousness.

A more positive perspective of the people on spaceship earth as we journey together.

Like the Zen philosopher Basho’s concept of Dual Oneness describes, the center of balance is within and without.

I also dipped my yoga mat in bleach.

Because when I contemplate? I contemplate commando style, people!

And I don’t want to put my taint at risk for staph while I am ommmm-ing.

It occurs to me that I am not fooling anyone.

There is a part of me that is lamenting the fact that ALL of the above is total horse shit.

It would be nice if at least some of that was true.

Alas and alack.

And if there was a Lass, there would be no lack. (Oh COME ON! You people are so hard to please!)

Yesterday was Thanksgiving here in the US.

A day to give thanks.

Not really my style.

There is more of a selfish prick angle to my roll.

Its not nice or even easy to admit, but it at least approaches honesty.

But is it funny? Really?

Got a little bit of a brood going on today.

There are a lot of things I would change about myself, not just the blog, if I could.

The Bitter mind is a twisted miasma of baggage and knee jerk reflexes that makes it hard to be me sometimes, much less date and deal with someone else.

So maybe the point of this little screed is in sending out the proper thoughts of apology to those wronged. (Jeez, that list is LOOOONG.)

To those I have interacted with, going all the way back to high school, my sainted ex wife, and any woman who had the misfortune of deciding that this hot mess looked like a day at the beach.

Sorry. You all know who you are.

For those of you who have been offended by the blog, and are waiting for an apology, keep waiting.

You got on this bus of your own free will, and you don’t get the luxury of bitching about the destination.

I have long maintained that the blog is a mental chamber pot that I empty out of the window of the internet every Friday morning at 0500, to be dumped on the ignorant and the dumb.

There are a precious few of you that have the nimble feet and dodge it, taking what little of value you can find in it and leaving the rest in the gutter.

One man’s shit is another man’s, well, shit.

But it might be a little funny.

So at least thats something.

Namaste bitches.

 

(FOOTNOTE- Molloy gets the assist for the blog above. I rarely edit after posting, but it has been pointed out that I am an ungrateful shit. Turns out thats true.)

 
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Posted by on November 27, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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Castration is a bitch.

For the record, Bruce Jenner is dyslexic.

I am not saying that this had anything to do with his gender reassignment.

But what if he went in for a vasectomy, and there was simply a misunderstanding.

Shit happens.

Does he miss his balls? Do they wonder what they did wrong?

Where they donated in some sort of “Testicular rescue” program?

Have they found a “Forever home”?

Will we see them on a Facebook post?

An infomercial plea for cash to save his balls with sorrowful Sarah McLaughlan music playing in the background.

That seems a little heavy handed for a set of nuts.

But I wouldn’t put it past Sarah.

Even with the airbrushing, Bruce has some pretty grim cheekbones.

But, go to any bar at last call and you will see guys pumping drinks into way fuglier women than Bruce will ever be. Or Caitlyn.

Whatever.

Honestly, I think the dividing line is the basic equipment.

You can’t just decide you are a woman and demand everyone change gears if you are still sporting a penis.

Take hormones all you like, but a dick is a dude and the ladies have lady bits.

At least Braitlyn chose the right time to do this.

The gender reassignment surgeries have hit their high point.

Google it and you will see some pretty gruesome pics of what they viewed as a “Success” 10-15 years ago in turning a man into a woman.

From an uneducated civilian point of view, it was a horror show of oddities that had more in common with an old school freak show than any sort of corrective surgery.

And someone (Actually several thousand) are living with that today.

Wonder what their sex life is like?

Wonder what Braitlyn’s sex life is like?

After all, he was married to the Unholy One, Kris Kardashian. (It has yet to be proven that she brokered Kim’s sex tape, but I have seen Hollywood premieres that did not roll out as smoothly and had less advanced notice in the press.)

Also never proven is how big a penis Kris has. But we all KNOW she has one.

Is that where Braitlyn decided being a man was no longer an option?

Chilling. Mean and funny to those with a twisted sense of humor, but chilling.

Which begs the question, when is Braitlyn’s sex tape coming out? That seems to be their MO.

Will we be able to actually see Kris’s face? Or will it be blurred out? Will Kim be in it? Probably, she is every bit the attention whore (Emphasis) that her unholy mommy is.

I never cared for oddity porn, just not my thing. If it’s yours, God bless, it’s your journey. Just wear a condom, for God’s sake.

What I can’t understand is that everyone is making such a big deal out of Braitlyn changing from man into woman, and no one has even mentioned Kris’s transformation from woman into “Babylon the Great, the Mother of Prostitutes and Abominations of the Earth.” (Revelations M-Fer!)

Just saying.

 
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Posted by on June 5, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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The End is Near, maybe.

I am the harbinger of doom, you’ve been warned.

To judge by the results, I have been breaking mirrors as I hit black cats to make them cross my path so that they can knock over the salt as we walk under a ladder.

The bad luck/shit karma storm seems to be endless.

Not for me mind you, but for everyone around me.

I exist in the eye of the shit storm.

And I feel bad mainly because Karma has been my bitch for a few weeks now.

But that is not what I am hear to talk about.

You all seem to hate the positive shit, you’ve proven that over and over.

The positive or uplifting post are among the least read.

The one’s that detail people held down by Fate and fisted by Karma?

Shit, you can’t get enough.

It boggles the mind and makes me feel bad.

Not to complain, but you do treat me like a whore.

No eye contact, just do your business and leave the page.

Leave the money on the dresser as you go.

So be it.

Why so cheerful today?

Ok, you asked for it, here is the roll call of crap.

This has all been related to me since I wrote last weeks blog:

  • I have had a half dozen people tell me about a close relative with a shitty prognosis involving cancer.
  • 3, count them 3, acquaintances have told me they are getting divorced.
  • 5 car accidents.
  • 1 cat rape involving an out of control horny bulldog. (Sorry, I laughed so hard at this one, I almost shit myself. The dog/cat owner has unfriended me on FB and will not return texts. Still funny.)
  • 2 people related having ED for the first time. (We are getting older, fellas. Its called Viagra, look into it.)
  • An old acquaintance’s child was sentenced to 20 years in prison. (Isn’t meth wonderful?)
  • I got a flat tire on my bike. (Really not much compared to the rest, but I SUCK at changing tubes. All about me.)
  • A married couple I know decided to spice up their bedroom activities and try some new things. They ended up in the ER later trying to get a string of beads out of her butt. (Pissing off people left and right today.)

It seems to be a time for keeping your head down.

Survival instinct kicks in and you learn to adapt and keep the shit stink from finding you.

So you don’t necessarily avoid people, but you are seeking out people either.

I know, that sounds mean, kind of because it is.

But I mean it in the nicest narcissistic way.

In the end, I look on the activities and things that have gone on in the last week as a cautionary tale of sorts.

But the moral of the story is this:

Be bold but be careful and if the bulldog of life looks your way?

Cover your ass.

 
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Posted by on May 15, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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Hating a stranger.

Its not often, but sometimes, when I least expect it, I instinctively hate people.

Case in point, I am in Starbucks, its not my favorite one, but its still a Starbucks.

For those of you that pay attention, its the “Icebox”, so named because the temperature is always at 60 degrees, Winter or Summer.

I used to think this was a bad idea, then I realized that on those days that I am there for an hour or more, I buy more coffee to keep me warm.

Maybe the manager is a genius.

And in she walks.

Something about her screams “Bitch”, loud and clear.

Of course she is on her cell phone, what else would she be doing?

And maybe it is just because I didn’t like her from the beginning, but I swear that the people around her moved just a touch more away from her than you would normally.

Maybe its an unconscious thing, just some sort of evil presence, like a low level fart in an elevator that you don’t know who did it, but you know it wasn’t you.

Anyway, she gets thru the line, gets a spinach quiche. (Red flag – Spinach quiche is the food of choice of pedophiles, serial killers and overly monied coffee hoes.)

Her drink, when it came, had a lot of foam, another red flag but I’m gonna let that go.

As luck would NOT have it, she sat at the seat next to me.

Conversation still going on.

Here are the highlight quotes.

  • “Marshal is having problems at school, he failed a test and the teacher is being a bitch about it. I told him he could stay home this week and calm down.” (My comment is to fucking long to put here, so its below.)
  • “Jack is still arguing about the alimony, I mean, I gave that asshole my life, and thats going to cost him.” (Lesson learned boys, some people, not all, just some people, when they are flat on their backs the meter is running. Talk amongst yourselves.)
  • The car is still not running right. Every time I put it in gear, I have to let off on the gas COMPLETELY. (You mean revving it and dumping it into gear is NOT good for the tranny?)

It was the Polish astronomer Copernicus who first offered the model of the universe that had the Sun at its core and not the Earth.

And it was the shithead sucking down a frappuccino sitting next to me that first offered the model of the universe that had Marshal at its core.

That means the center of the universe was somewhere local, still in his pj’s during mid morning and crying like a pussy.

For a long moment I was outraged.

We are currently raising a generation of kids that are being taught that, God forbid they ever encounter a problem, the only proper response is to freeze in place and over analyze it until someone comes along and either solves it for them, or it goes away on its own.

That was a shitty long moment.

The highlight was when I made her leave.

Its called the creep move.

It is a beautiful study in low level emotional intimidation.

I began to furiously scratch my armpit, the one closer to her.

I grunted slightly.

Once I could see her staring, I stopped scratching and smelled my fingers.

Wait for it……..

I scooted a half an inch towards her.

Then I turned my head, locked eyes, and smiled.

If you have ever seen someone fleeing a burning building, that is a lot like how she left.

Hung up her phone, stood and stomped her little feet out of Starbucks.

Even left her coffee creation behind.

I would feel bad, but, after all…

I didn’t like her to begin with.

 
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Posted by on April 24, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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