Monday, May 30, 2011

Our own worst enemy

Taking a look at the endings and beginning of life's most taxing and daunting tasks it is hard to find the common ground on which we would recuperate. Where to go after a relationship when friends are lost, when moving out of state, it's the high school effect all over again.

You don't know where to go or how to insert yourself to any situation. Our strives for affiliation are our own downfall. What active role will you be playing if any?

From seeing a pretty face in the distance and the time it takes to re-configure the mindset and move forward. Some pele lock up based on social insecurity. That hermit life style is counter productive as it is comfortable.

So what od you say to that group, that girl or boy? How do you conduct yourself? The problem is not the inadequate feeling that comes with being the new guy, it's our obsessive approach that we succumb to. We constantly question our own worth and approach and try to dissect our different vantage points on how to adapt instead of just adapting.

We ask for the advice that we will just as soon dismiss, mostly because everyone loves the sound of their own voice and feed off of the attention given by the outside party. I y this because there really isn't any other reason why one human being would waste another's time in such a way. I call it the high school girl approach.

It isn't easy. But much of the difficulty comes from our second guessing.

Sometimes you have to just go for it. But don't "try", that will ultimately be your downfall. Think about the friends you have already, are you well liked? Nerves will always get the best of us.

Stop being such a puss.
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Thursday, May 19, 2011

Someting in a smile... some assembly required..

Plastic Surgery Slumber PartyImage via WikipediaVisually speaking the female "set-up" is so much better than that of any male. Maybe that's why I'm not gay.

In any case I think about the daily interactions that I deal with.  In SoCal it is easy to find a woman with an amazing backside-although you'd be hard pressed to find this in some Mexican women, but I digress.

With the explosion in plastic surgery and other aesthetic enhancements big tits are amassing like nobodies business, and as much shit I get from my friends I'm just not big on tits. Plainly put. I'd do just fine with a solid B-cup and a great tush. Tho some do look amazing with the larger set, I should be so lucky.

Other aspects that drive my attention are legs and this has been played to death, also not the point to this post.

A smile delivers much more than any other body part can bring to the table. A great smile can promise so much if on the right face. I know that is a really odd statement but it's true when you think about it. A smile is always the first thing to catch my attention. Even better if they got the nose and eyes to further accent this phenomenon.

At the end of the day the smile is all that matters. Think about, for a second, all the shit that women cake on their faces. By the time you wake up in the morning next to that pseudo-playmate that you picked up at the bar or night club the night before she now has an awful pasty-faced ghoulish creature that has no eyebrows and smells like a tanning salon.

The bottom line is that there is no substitute for a beautiful set of teeth and sensual lips. This goes beyond any sexual desire more so it is just a pretty face. One to be admired with no agenda. A simple glance in the direction of such a sight can relieve all your stresses.

If you know anyone with these features and they make you feel the way I have illustrated, is it too much to go over and engage? The smile nowadays has dropped in value faster than the American dollar. Between reality shows and stupid Real World-esque shows only leave the mindset that those busty bimbos with future liver problems are what is to be desired and acquired accordingly.


I call Bullshit!!!

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Monday, May 16, 2011

Everything is just hunky-dory

Whatever the hell that means. Time stands still sometimes in the retail environment, I'm convinced of this. You find yourself trying to occupy yourself with little activities that bear no importance.

You know work is bad when you go to the bathroom and sit on the toilet for a half an hour and you don't even need to shit.

Instead you play time wasting games, browse the web for photo-blogs, check your email 40 times without anything new coming in. Some will even go so far as to pick up smoking just to get a feeling of accomplishment.

We all have our poisons, vices, and guilty pleasures. Thankfully I haven't plummeted tot the point of masturbation in the restroom. But the progression of the day almost begs for a David Carradine.

That's how daddy likes to get down..(Not Really.)

The faces become blurred, I don't even ask for names anymore.

It slows down to a point where I'm just excited to speak to another human, regardless of the buying condition.

Everyone seems to work in the computer field yet have no fucking clue how the hell to program a contact in their flip phones. Old folks come in looking for smartphones that their grand-kids have and act like you just handed them the Holy Grail when you put some touch screen doohickey or Blueberry in their palm to "give them ownership" of their new product.

At least that's what they teach us in training when in reality we are just owning the customer with their painful hours of questions while everyone else in the place is making money.

So much for the up-sell.

Then you have the asshole that walks in at the most dead point in the day who laughs and exclaims

"Oh man I got the whole store to answer my questions!!!"

That's enough asshole don't waste my time with your idiocy just buy your son who acts like your daughter an expensive phone that wont see life past three months.

The monotony takes its toll but it also finds a way to pay the bills..

Till I find something better everything is just Hunky-dory.
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Sunday, May 15, 2011

The Passing Lane Theory.



When driving, you automatically choose the lane with the fewest cars so that you can speed by and get to work, home, or even a hookers house. I don't know I'm not judging. 

In any case reading online you can find different theories of human behavior that lead into speeding up passing and, once pat the mass of vehicles waiting to get off their respective exits, going back at the original pace in front of the traffic. It also mentions that with no real gain other than a mental sense of accomplishment, someone will do the same to you. 

We are all just trying to get by. 

However my passing lane theory deals less with the physical road on which we drive and more so the path we take in life. 

I'm guilty just as most every one else for wishing days away and hoping that the weekend comes fast and the work week witless away with the desire to finish. This holds true for days off or maybe even an event that we are counting down to. 

The bottom line is that we spend most of our days wishing them away due to the daily "hassles" of work, school, whatever ails you in the current state. Tis sort of wishful thinking can really be harmful if not kept in check. By that I mean looking at the opportunities at hand. I get being at work sucks. If given the chance I would much rather write all day and make a living even if under meager conditions, at the very least I'd be happy with what I'm doing every night. 

I see Facebook status update that beg for the weekend to come; before you know it we are 30-something and lacking any real substance to life. We just want the day, and all subsequent days till the desired calendar day, without so much as a thought to what we are giving up. 

I know that this isn't true across the board but to see if it applies to you, think about how many times we've justified putting life by based on our moods. Rather than taking on an additional task that may enrich their daily experiences. For some it comes in the form of working out or joining some fitness program, others find school as an activity but again this isn't the point here. 

The point is to find something that inspires creativity. One beautiful blonde once told me that the people we should include in our lives should enhance or simply put: make us better. I was almost a shocking wake up call to life. I took an inventory of those I was previously involved with and realized that most of the stress came from those I didn't even really care too much about. I know this may sound a bit heartless but looking closely you may see those that are in your life almost as auxiliary components in life without the benefits of support. 

You know that person that only calls you to see what's going on, and yet when you need something you'd be better off bottling smoke? That may be a kinship worth revising or scrapping all together. If you're anything life me you might have a hard time taking in this information, and you'll probably procrastinate until the next episode where you find yourself secretly playing tug of war with a brick wall with the promise that someone else has "got your back".

Unfortunately the truth is far less attractive. But soon you'll notice the difference. This was made most apparent to me when I moved out west. Ever have that thought about who would come to your funeral today if you died yesterday? Finding the answer was much easier moving than dying. 

At first I thought it was a bit of a depressing thought but soon found without too much surprise those I had in my life that would eventually miss me just as much as I would miss them. It's good to have close loved ones. 

I had spent so much time in the passing lane that it was time to do something radical. Im not saying that everyone should just pick up and move. Family and friends will be a solid anchor to hold us down, and maybe that is what we need to re-evaluate. Find some purpose you never knew you had before. Luckily I found a muse to subconscious voice the decision process in my head to help me try out different things and spice things up.

So get up and do something, chances are its better than whatever you're about to settle for. 

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Saturday, May 14, 2011

Sun God is My Homie!

It came to me one morning that I didn't want to do anything at all. The day was to be mine and mine alone. I quickly found this to be boring so I texted a fellow blogger and good friend of mine to see what was the current happening. I remember him saying something about some Sun God festival. I asked him if he cold get an extra ticket or whatever was necessary to enter said event. He told me that he had a plan and to meet him at his place. I packed up a few necessities and all substances that may be appropriate to honor Ra, or Annu if you're of the Egyptian persuasion, and I was on my way.

This meeting did not come with its hiccups, during and planning process, but I'll get into that later. As hastily as I had driven over we had paced up from his place. Apparently he had an in at the festival. I figured it was a coordinator.  I later found her to just be another patron to the event.

We sped off in a crazy race against time. Literally. It was nuts, and if I had to go I would have shat myself. The plan was this: I was going to get dropped off on campus so that he could go and meet up with the contact. He actually gives me his phone and shows me an image with the anticipation that I may run into her before he.

"Remember her face, go up to her and tell her you are friends with me. Stay close to her, anchor yourself."

I flicked through Facebook photos that had nothing to do with a clear shot of her face. I kept thinking this is some CIA trained spec ops shit. I knew I had abandoned all hope; So far. We arrive and part ways at the shuttle bus stop. His tires screech in his departure.

I could see the inebriated faces awaiting their shuttle to cart them off to rest and recovery. I try to find a place to settle where I would be the least intrusive. I try and make small talk with the college attendees only to receive awkward glances and smiles. Foreign students are so socially awkward.

A few more stumble past by and bump into me. I'm done with this crowd. I find an empty bench, and I sit and wait. I'm coming down from my buzz from earlier. I'm tapping my feet feverishly waiting for the coming fleet of shuttles to empty their contents with the hopes of recognizing this mystery escort. After several buses and no sign of my friend of the escort I decided to abandon my post.

I got up and surveyed the area. I saw a path of grass in the direction of the festival and figured it was time to begin my journey with the Sun God. I lay with my hoodie over my head sparing me the discomfort of the dry grass' pickle against the back of my neck. I had my aviators on. They were a new pair and were very dark. I could barely make anything out of the brightest of conditions. The sun poured over me evenly and equally tranquilizing. I took out my phone to check if I had missed my buddy’s call. There was nothing, bus after bus. At least at this point I was comfortable and lucky enough there was enough eye candy out and about. It almost didn't matter that they could barely understand me.

As I lay in the grass I just wondered about the progression the day might have. I liked the idea of being invisible. Keeping my hood up and glasses on even throughout the night. As I thought more about this, I felt a vibration in my pocket. Someone was calling me. I picked up and it was my buddy Moose. He began frantically,

"Where are you I need you to walk directly adjacent to the shuttle stop.."

I quickly looked around and found his loud green shirt; I hung up on him as I started in his direction along the concrete.

He introduced me to the escort and company. I don't remember the names. It was a guy and girl, seemed to be involved somehow, and yet looked casual.

We walk. We gather a crowd and pick up food anticipated the long haul. I am introduced to more people who's name I don't remember especially this one middle eastern girl that was certainly all about me but Moose had ruined that for me. I will eventually forgive him (It's all good Bud).

The to somehow manage the wrist bands so that they were easily removed, they had three metal prongs that needed to be bent to allow movement-this is done with my puppy's old I.D. tag and a hand cuff key that I had on my key chain, and passed on to allow us to enter; very simple process, very difficult delivery. It was definitely one of those situations that it sounded harder than it was but pitching the idea to a mass of drunken college students eager to get laid was a hard sell. The girl became irate because she couldn't comprehend Moose's and as an ace tried telling him that once she was in she'd send some help. Lyin' Bitches.

We found ourselves on the roof of the office sections to get a buzz going and formulate a new plan he remembers that we ran into a buddy of his earlier and he gave him a ring.

While waiting for the reply we had gotten pretty wasted, at this point I'm convinced that if for no reason but utter defeat, in a relatively short amount of time. It was almost a complete loss because we were to also sneak in a few other friends later on and if it was this difficult to get us in it may have been impossible to get them. Then the phone went off.

His buddies had gotten back to him and let hum know that they were just laying low till the last act of the show. And with this we had our in. We met up with them at one of the campus's mess halls and laid out our plan. Thankfully these guys were as bright as we were and obliged immediately.

On the way to the entrance we ran into a few cute college girls who actually approached us with an offer to sell a wristband. This bought us so much more time because the other party had shown up and we had the opportunity to make this one quick shot.

Giggity.

I was among the first group to go in. Moose would do the running since he knew the campus the best. That is a completely different blog altogether (I hope ). It was almost like after hours of sidetracking and borderline failure we had everything go right for us. I'm walking through the checkpoints showing my wristband when the thought of how asinine it was to have a limit on the amount of attendees the concert is to have. I walk onto the field. I can see tents set up in the distance for food water, porta-potties even these crazy stall like urinal setups. The field is broken up by two stages: one is playing crazy techno and dubstep music; the other has the evenings talent. Both sections were roaring with energy as the drink kids sprinkled in between. It was almost like walking between two realms of music separated by sound waves and bass lines as Jimmy Eat World and some D.J. in a new era fitted cap collide in the infrastructure. 

It was so surreal. Tossed in the mix are flashbacks to some ice coffee drink, me laying down in the dirt, me again-this time dancing in a large crowd with my glasses on reflecting the laser show in the air as it mixed with the fog and steam, a lap dance, and losing my friends. But in the end it was all worth it.

More so the night taught me an interesting lesson. Sometimes when we allow others to lead on an expedition, you'll find yourself embarking on a journey you'd never otherwise see. The catfish in our lives make it more interesting.

Create your next adventure

Good luck

Goodnight.

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Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Elementary mentality


Dear Lips of something past,

As these cliche words make phrases

I'm racing the stop watch

I swear the next time we meet time will stop,

All the while I'm re-inventing my childhood

Bringing Me back

Step one

Step two

This heart beat races beating the pace car on this drive home

You're riding on my arm And so they say.....

The left hand vessels lead to the heart

I beg to differ

It seems for the next 15 minutes My heart is being held by my right

Step three.....

You're poker face is giving you away as you fondly look over your shoulder

Step Four

My expression is full of suggestion

Don't worry baby girl this sharp turn has nothing on your sharp tongue

But I'll keep you safe,

The honks and horns drowned out by your smile

And In this light I adore you

I'm an 8 year old Man, without a path, without a plan

It say this tanks half full but I'm running on fumes and dreams

Step Five.....
 A long kiss goodnight that'll keep me grinnin' til the sunrise

Keep me smitten over your Ed Hardy's and how you look so cute in skinny Jeans

Thinkin about how my hearts hanging by a thread through our window of opportunity

Step six

I see you walkin away..

Walk around the bed for one more fix of this night cap kiss

I think my smile sold me out

But It's okay

I've got deep pockets...





Feelin Like a little boy


-Jack

Social Networking?

Cover of "Anger Management (Widescreen Ed...Cover of Anger Management (Widescreen Edition)I remember the day I first got into the social networking craze. I was in high school and one of my friends at the time had asked if I had a myspace.

"What the shit is a Myspace?" I asked, and at that point I felt a little older. Luckily for me I am quick to adapt. This is something I hope to continue so that I never feel out of date; a friend of mine used to refer to these sites as The Myspace and The Facebook, but that's a different story.

So I'm sitting there, watching her cats stalk the area. It had only been my second or third time at her place so I was still unfamiliar territory. I sat there in my Standford Hoodie passively listening to my iPod when she handed me one of her cats. Of course she had handed me the fattest fucking cat I've ever seen. This thing weighed like forty cats, it was unreal. Anyhow, the cat sat tamely on my lap as I began petting him. He purred playfully under my hand and he had that comical look of content on his face as his whiskers flew back and his nails dug into my jeans.

She takes a photo of me with her digital camera. This was before everyone had a fucking darkroom on their phones. After a few minutes at her computer she says, "Viola!"

And there it was, my digital connection to the entire world. I sat trying to figure out what the hell to put on my "about you" section, and for some reason, even now, when that section pops up I have no idea what to write. Nothing ever comes out sounding right. It has gotten to the point where people just say "Just ask" and that shit is boring as all hell.

But is any of this information relevant or true in any way? I mean really, girls talk about how they're bad bitches and drama free, bros and tools talk about how they love to party. I am almost reminded of that scene in Anger Management where Jack Nicholson's character asks Adam Sandler who he is, not what he does. It is kind of frustrating.

So what is the right information to put down? Who really gives a shit about anything that we really write? It's all so arbitrary and usually not true at all. I"ll go ahead and say most of them aren't true, I think that's fair.

I think we write the things we WANT to be true about ourselves. Most people write the basic "truths" right: Drama Free, love to live life, meet new people?

Loosely translated: My life is so engulfed in drama that I don't even notice it anymore, I drink myself retarded and black out, I only want to meet potential fuck buddies. I think that covers it pretty much.

So where am I going with this? Basically the Internet version of us is almost shittier than the real version. At the very least personality is something that is very hard to counterfeit. At first I thought that may be a bit of a reach for a statement, but its true. Someone that knows how to have a good time and is genuinely a great person to be around will emit such a vibe right away. I have had the privilege of meeting these people first hand and consider them my best friends.

But in the process of meeting new people, getting my blog out there for others to hopefully enjoy reading as much as I enjoy writing it, and just spark good conversation, it has proven to be a prospect long lost in HTML programming. I find this very unfair. But is the blame on our end as users, or is it that childhood mindset of wearing masks making us invisible to the world?

A good example of this is just the other day I found a girl on Facebook, I wasn't looking for anything romantic or potentially physical, just a fellow user that had all the same interests as I and figured I'd add her. This little scenario usually plays out in two different variations: I get no response and possibly no acceptance on the friend add, or she accepts and we either talk or not.

Some girls still have the Myspace mentality of hoarding friends.

This scenario, however, did not end in either. She actually wrote me and asked if she knew me. I responded saying that I didn't, but we had almost everything in common and thought it would be cool to get to know each other, to which she responded, "don't fucking talk to me I don't know you, don't waste my time". Now I sat back and reflected on the situation, she wasn't underage, she had photos of her in a sorority tee, she had a bunch of photos with her at bars and even had a photo album that said "My 22nd". I thought about what to do. I should have probably just ignored it and gone about my business.

Have you met me?

This actually got under my skin. I tried ignoring it for a day and that's where my limit was reached. I wrote her back asking what her problem was. I was as textbook friendly as I could, although brimming with sarcasm. I asked her if she knew about meeting new people and what that entailed. I understood the general awareness that women put forth whenever a guy randomly "friends" somebody, usually that consists of some douche writing a message full of filth and sexual requests; I save that for face to face encounters.

Joking of course.

I went on to say that she should take the false information on her profile off and write only the truth, and if she was that drama free she wouldn't waste her time writing back to me in such a hostile format.

And that was really it. I didn't go to far, I didn't to scare her obviously that wasn't my intention.

My point is this: if you're a whore and only concern, and associate yourself with those who approach you with a six pack and a promise to shove their manhood down your throat till your mascara runs down your face so be it. I wont judge. Do not pretend to be something you aren't only to prove that you are a complete shitbag freak that shouldn't be allowed in any social situation.

I can go on for days about the ridiculous contradictions of the digital world. With as much potential that these social networks have, there are users that are making this a counterproductive experience.

I can't wait for the next massive social failure.

Goodnight!
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Monday, May 9, 2011

Revisiting the past only makes us more hopeful for the future.

A window shade glows a golden hue as it illuminates a kitchen breakfast table.
The hidden sunrise gently warms and intensifies the scent of Arabica beans
percolating.

Drip drip. Drip drip.

Sleepy eyes bat at my smile. Walking towards her ready to lovingly hold. I'm not
just a man. I'm so much more. Kisses and hugs to go around. She puts her arm
around me as we lay lazily on this Sunday thinking one day this will someday be
my life.

Our romantic combination of nicotine and caffeine brings us closer at the lips.

Your eyes being my light at the end of my tunnel I crawl closer and closer.
Until reality sets in.

I open my eyes to discover an empty seat where she used to be.

Lying up in the corner, my bed much colder than I remember. So ill drift off
into my slumber. Sleep quietly till she returns.

Only she'll never be back. She'll never be mine. And with this volatile mix of
prescription cocktail......

I'll never wake up

Where the hell has dating gone?

I remember the times when you saw a cute girl at the bar and you asked the bar keep to deliver whatever fruity drink whatshername was drinking and if she was interested she'd come over and say thank you.

Now every woman reads some random psychologist's recommendations about how to turn on your guy, spice up the relationship, or crazy shit to do in bed.

The most ridiculous is the sex talk. Every month like clock work, some lady uses big words to deliver a tantalizing bedroom experience to enhance the love life that is falling apart as the reader takes notes.

Are we really so oblivious that we need someone else to tell us what to do, who to do, what to look for, what someone's choice of footwear means in their bank account, so on and so forth.

Maybe try not being such a bitch. Leave the make up behind because honestly honey that $300 bag of MAC or Sephora make up you got wont hide the fact that every morning you wake up a monster.

Again, EVERY SINGLE WOMAN has their own sense of self beauty and it seems more that these editors should focus less on what crazy shit to do with your tongue on some dudes nipples and more on how much less crap to cake on your face.

Waking up to some chick who had eyebrows and now doesn't is no way to spend a Sunday.

Tisk, tisk.

I'm sure that somewhere along the way we will go back to what mattered. At least that's the hope. Dating raccoons isn't my scene. But it continues to be the bane of the dating scene. Prepackaged disappointment waiting to happen.

Epic stand-off between Canine and Feline.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Color Coded Notsalgia: Tonight We Go Red Line

I remember the almost therapeutic effect riding the subway throughout the city of Boston had on me. Since I can remember I had been taking bus to train and vice-versa exploring the reaches of the city.  Even in the pursuit of musical liberation I would venture out farther than I had ever comfortably gone before.

But it was all in the spirit of adventure.

Looking back I could have very well ended up in some nut-case's fuck dungeon. But I was still young and somewhat pure.

Moving On...


I spent a majority of the my last year in Boston traveling on the red line. I could have driven and cut my travel time by 60% but I really couldn't see past a $300 a month parking pass against a $60 unlimited travel pass from the good ol' MBTA, not to mention savings on fuel and the ability to get plastered each night without so much as a thought about how I was gonna get home. (Chelsea was a mere 1.8 square miles, even the most inebriated crackhead could stumble his way through the city in less than 30 minutes.

Harvard square was where I worked and it took a good amount of time to get there. I began developing hobbies that I hadn't really had the time to indulge. Reading an writing became a daily thing. My iPod gave me a soundtrack to enjoy each day; going with a different band or genre each day.

This made the people watching all the better, and Folks if you enjoy people watching as much as I do the MBTA is the transportation service for you. Take the fella above, I almost felt that actually approaching him would diminish the amazing stories that were now flooding my brain. Whatever the reason he had for wearing such an amazing hat I have no explanation, but I had fun making them up.

This was almost a daily occurrence. Between homeless people, train dancers, and ravers to start it never really gets to be too dull on the subway.

It's all a part of the city's undeniable charm.

Damn That Smooth Pounding Bass.

Ever sit around for a long period of time and feel a slight pinch by means of your very own imagination? Where you feel like somethings there, but not really. I try and develop some sort of appreciation for anything and everything that comes my way.  I'm sitting in front of my computer being drowned in the essence of Dubstep. I like the music I hear but do not feel the necessity to dedicate a part of my knowledge trap to artists and DJs.

Is that wrong?

I enjoy the cataclysmic effect the wavering bass lines has on my psyche. The way it cradles my thoughts; slowly massaging my brain. I can almost feels its affects manifest themselves physically. Little treasure troll like creatures just kneading at my temples whispering,

"Everything is gonna be alright man"


I dunno why, but I believe them. The music promised such power under sensual light; tickling the back of my neck, putting me to sleep, meanwhile the raw energy fuels my body to do a jumping roundhouse kick.

If only I could.

Kittens do the darndest things.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Truth sometimes comes to us in a cookie.

I get it, but really!?!?!

So The infamous Osama Bin Laden is dead. He was found in some mansion and we "brought a known criminal to justice". First of all, we spent the last decade looking for some asshole in the caves surrounding, and no one thought to check down town? Second of all, there is no second of all. The rest will forever be printed in our history books. The culmination of our nation in the war against terror. Hooray.

But seriously.

Facebook has plastered all along the news feeds about Bin Laden's death. Every one has something to say but one post actually caught my eye.

In short this wonderful person wrote about the celebration of death , despite the fact that this man was the most hated individual for the last ten years, and how it is all in bad spirit. Death needs no celebration, and I agree.

I get that there is a sigh of relief that comes with this victory but does it really need to be as much as it is now? I say this because I am more concerned with the negative ramifications that are to be widespread across the board. Whee people find humor in posting up pics and fake videos of Osama with cross hairs on his head and "exclusive footage" plastered on the web. And for what reason? What is to be gained?

She also mentioned that hate multiplies hate. I haven't read such a truth in a long time. Heard some asshole say to one of my best friends "so I heard they killed your uncle", and as outspoken and rather dickish as I am this bothered me... A lot.

So I began to think about all the shit that we do as a country. This will be going on for generations. To this day white shit bag supremacists are still raggin' on Koreans and the Japanese for the shit we had to suffer years back in past wars, and we bombed the shit out of other countries, we had are "bittersweet victories" and yet we still feel the need to spread ignorance across the board.

So are we left to disrespect the middle eastern community because of the death of a terrorist. Does one person or organization really affect the reputation of an entire race? Because as I see it we don't walk about Germans as much, Cuba had it's shot in the public eye and Fidel's doings are kinda stashed aside, or is it simply because the American people don't like to talk about shit they have no idea about? No one seems to be in a rush to put an end to the KKK or deal with the racist shit fall that we have spreading across the country like super herpes.

Yu can go ahead and argue that we've done well to support Haiti and Japan in the wake of tragic events, but my point is that it should be a cataclysmic event that bring our countries support to others.

Are there still starving countries in Africa while some fat fuck little child is being stuffed with cheeseburgers and soda pop by his fat fucking mother? yeah I think maybe we should shut the fuck up about how progressive and involved our country is and sit the fuck down to fix the shit we have here.

Budget issue? How about we kill every fuckin' rapist, murderer, bigot, pedophile and low life we have cooped up in prison eating more meals than a single mother of three struggling to juggle school , four jobs, and the content stress of how next month will go. The concern for the potential innocence of these inmates went out the window the second we told them "you'll never have a normal life again.

We spend way more money on fancy new shit that we do not need just to hate it later, toss it out in the trash and start all over not even thinking about the damage done to the environment.

So maybe we are still selfish. Maybe we are fitting to prove or establish an image in the world. I don't know I'm not a politician. I just think we all need to st the fuck up and stop passing judgement.

Life liberty and the pursuit of happiness was the goal and we are so far off.

Sunday, May 1, 2011