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Tag Archives: prison

Season’s F-n Greetings

There is a meme going around facebook that says “Do this for fun after Xmas.”

It shows a Christmas tree, rolled in plastic and taped up to look like a body. It says to drag it to the dumpster midday, wearing a hoodie splashed with ketchup and sun glasses. They said to look around a lot and act like the tree weighs a lot.

Its worth a 2 second chuckle at most, but do yourself a favor and don’t do it.

If you have never had the FBI put the boot to your front door at 2am, its a holiday treat that is not to be missed.

Best to be in the middle of the living room on your knees, hands on your head with your fingers interlaced.  (They are still going to boot you prone and put a knee on your neck, but at least you will have a shorter distance to fall. There is a background soundtrack of shouted “STOP RESISTING!” that puts a definite spin on the event.)

If there is a silver lining to that little life event, its that while they are filming, hopefully you will not see it on an upcoming episode of Live PD, just in an intimate viewing during your trial.

Anyone who thinks this sounds fun has a masochistic streak that the Marquis De Sade would envy.

But thats just me.

There is an entire segment of society that seems to think tagging something as “It was a joke” or “I wasn’t serious” seems to put their get out of jail free card up in lights.

I spend a lot of my spare time writing a lot of offensive shit.

If it offends, trust me, that was my intention.

I have had people unfriend me, stop talking to me and on a couple of occasions, been threatened with an ass kicking.

I am ok with that.

I am not a badass, but I have had my ass kicked before, by people who know what they were doing.

Every now and then, I see an episode of Cops that the “perp” leads police on a car chase, ditches the car, foot race, and then, finally, gives up and seems shocked when there is a knee on his neck and a night stick halfway up his ass.

“Alright, I give up!”

Its so cute that they think that will help de-escalate the situation, its also more than a little sad.

This is a glimpse of the future and it is a sad one.

Sad because there is a whole dumb segment of the public that will say “Dude! He gave up. They don’t need to be rough with him!” (I am of the personal opinion that they need to take him out back and “Old Yeller” him, but thats just me.)

And that is where a middle of the night case of micro swamp-ass comes from, the realization that these ass clowns are next up to run the show.

God help us all.

I feel better having gotten that little rant off of my chest.

You may now return to your regularly scheduled programs, memes and cat videos.

And for God’s sake, have some coffee and stop breaking the rules.

But mainly, have some coffee.

Mmmmm coffee.

 

By the way, New Years is just a few days away. Do yourself a favor and try not to F-up your year and get arrested.

Not that I care, but if you are being raped in prison, you are not reading this blog or having decent coffee.

And THAT is the real crime.

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Posted by on December 29, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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The four horsemen of ignorance

“Try to be a rainbow in someones cloud.” Maya Angelou

Possible the shittiest bumper stick or facebook meme ever.

I saw that online today and laughed out loud.

The truth is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with caution.” Albus Dumbledore

JK Rowling is responsible for 40% of everyone currently reading.

Of the two, I think she beats Angelou like a prison snitch.

Sometimes, who says it has more value to people than what they say.

But there is nothing worse than something dumb that an idiot thinks is deep.

“I don’t want to just be, I want to be HERE.”

That was the empty headed, dip shit comment that caught my ear.

The patio at Starbucks is a dicey thing in the summertime.

Pick the wrong spot on the wrong day and you are drinking hot coffee at a sweat fest.

But a Summer breeze and some shade and damn that coffee tastes better.

Enter the morons.

First year college students are a notably ignorant bunch, but God save us from the induced retardation of first year liberal arts majors.

These kids are not goth, but they are trying so hard to be intelligent and deep, there is an actual pain associated to listening to them.

The lead pussy, lets call him Tristan, is an emaciated tall kid with stringy black hair, a touch of mascara, and if my nose is accurate, does not believe in that whole bathing thing.

Great, BO and mommy told him he is brilliant.

This is a bad combination for survival.

Pray he never goes to jail, because he has “Prison Bitch” written all over him.

His worthless liberal arts degree will fast track him for supervisor at Kinkos shortly after his first decade at the counter, making copies.

I don’t normally hate someone at first sight, but today I will make an exception.

His posse is an impressive bunch in the realm of ignorant wanna-bees, but they rank below Tristan in the Order Condescendi.

First is Molly.

Molly is the remora student of the bunch.

A Remora is a fish that cannot fend for itself, so it attaches itself to another fish, usually a shark, and feeds off of the scraps.

While I hate the thought of classifying Tristan as anything as impressive or aggressive as a shark, it seems to fit.

Molly seems to feed off of Tristan’s half assed comments as if they were manna from the heavens.

Also, chocolate and fried foods, if her skin is any indicator.

Then there are the Twins.

I say twins because they sound so much alike, if you are not watching, you are not sure which one spoke.

They are like the supporting characters in a Socrates play.

“Yes, Socrates.”

“How wise of you, Socrates.”

But no actual thoughts of their own.

This is prime Occupy [Insert name of someplace people work for a living] protesters.

Tristan is concerned about his existential placeholder in the cosmos.

He really shouldn’t worry, his place in all of this is assured, the fix is in.

He is a loser, wear that badge like a medal boy, you have been working hard for the failure in your future.

And someone should track down your parents, sober them up, and slap them both in the mouth for raising this little cross for society to bare.

If it were not for the coffee, I would have left by now.

Mmmmm coffee…

 
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Posted by on July 29, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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The little asshole that could.

There is a fine art to procrastination.

Much like sleeping in, its awesome, right up until everything goes South and the situation turns on you like prison rape, uncomfortable leaving a lingering awkwardness.

And that brings us to this morning.

The blog, when I am being diligent and writing it ahead of time, is usually scheduled to post at 0500 Pacific time every Friday.

Unless I have Friday off, then I write it on the fly while at my favorite breakfast spot.

So what happened today?

Me, is what happened today.

I am not seated in my favorite breakfast spot, I am at work, just barely 15 minutes early, desperately pounding out words for you ungrateful bastards.

Speak of the devil and he appears, my phone just buzzed with a text from one of the blog devoted.

“No blog today? You lazy fuck.”

Not to turn this into an angry backlash, but when was the last time any of you whiny bitches scribbled anything other than a complaint for me?

And lets get one thing straight, I do not work for you.

You did not pay for this.

I did not take your sister to prom and do barnyard shit to her. (Although I probably know who did.)

And while people only value what they pay for, they piss and moan like old women about free stuff.

The sick sadistic side of this is that there is an evil side of me that does enjoy making people upset.

I have crawled around on the inside of my own head long enough to know that I am at peace with my inner asshole, that it really doesn’t spill out into the rest of my life in a detrimental way, and therefore I like to encourage the little guy.

Now, true, he is a little spoiled, my inner asshole is, and tends to be disruptive, but he is mine, therefore, I am of the opinion that he is brilliant and beautiful.

A lot of people don’t get it because they don’t have one of their own.

As a society, we have been systematically beating down our own asshole urges to the point that it only comes out under extreme stress or is alcohol induced.

And that is never pretty.

The repressed asshole is an over the top diva, that once she makes her entrance, all hell breaks loose.

Bar fights, pregnancies, STD’s, lost jobs, and family feuds, all are possible when dealing with the repressed asshole.

So take a tip from me, I started taking my IA (Inner Asshole) out for some quality time, just the two of us, back when I first started this blog.

Liberating is a word that comes to mind, so does indulgent, but cathartic is there also.

Free your mind, and your asshole will follow.

 
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Posted by on April 15, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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Peeing is tough enough.

I don’t like being mad-dogged at the urinal.

Let me pee in peace.

There is kind of an unspoken etiquette at the men’s room urinals.

It is a lot like being in prison.

For the most part, guys are convinced that a possible prison rape seen could happen at any moment.

Its a tense atmosphere for most guys. Except the guys that are in the men’s room, looking for love.

Me? I don’t need any new friends.

That being said, could you look lovingly into someone elses eyes for 2 minutes?

No offense. This is a don’t ask, don’t tell. I don’t ask because I don’t want to be told.

Let me set the scene.

There are four stand up urinals against the wall, with the door on the right.

If I take the one 2nd from the left, that leaves one between me and the wall and two between me and the door.

If you come in, please take the one furthest from me, it causes the least trouble.

If you take the one next to me, on my right with the door, you will interrupt my urinating as I wonder if there is an attack coming.

And god forbid you take the one between me and the wall. At this point, I am done urinating and I KNOW you have an agenda.

And I don’t need to have my urinating interrupted. I am at that age where any issue with the flow has me worrying about my prostate. You have to watch that sucker like a hawk.

Back to the urinal.

I realize how all of this sounds. There are some of you screeching “Homophobe!”

And?

I think a little fear is good for you.

So is guilt.

Keeps you on your toes, your head in the game.

I was raised Catholic, so the whole fear and guilt thing goes with it and I get that.

We keep getting away from the urinal and I am starting to think that it is an ok thing.

Urinals smell horrible.

Ladies don’t realize how bad men’s rooms are.

I always refer to them as the Monkey Hut.

Like at the zoo.

Shit on the walls is unpleasant, but not all that unexpected.

Men will pee on the seat, on the floor, the wall.

You name it.

I once read a news article about a man who had never used a public toilet. He spent a huge amount of time travelling from work to home to use the bathroom.

The more I think about that one, the more I think that it would be awesome.

It would be clean.

It would smell nice.

And no one would maddog you mid-pee.

 
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Posted by on October 14, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

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