Category: Ramblings

Ah, freedom.

Ain’t nothin’ quite like it.

The sun shines brighter, the birds sing sweeter, and the cat litter smells less putrid.

The physical realm our meat-suits currently inhabit is considered by some to be a school of some sort, or perhaps a playground — a temporary construct for a greater consciousness to learn more about itself, to acquire novel experiences from a limitless variety of unique perspectives, and to foster growth and evolution… Continue reading Good Enough for Me and Bobby Mcgee

I remember the good ol’ days when Daily Bread was actually fucking daily!

I remember the good ol’ days when writing less than 3 blog posts a week felt like I was being lazy.

I remember the good ol’ days when pumping out at least one book a year was routine.

I remember the good ol’ days when the winter holidays were something to be excited about — feasts with the family, extra days off to chill and relax, snowshoeing, cross-country skiing, handcrafting stained glass or paintings or anything non-store-bought to give away as presents to friends and family…

Continue reading What the Flying Fuck Happened?

I’m of the mind that bottling up emotions ain’t a good thing. I’m of the mind that negative energy should be channeled away from the body as quickly as possible. I’m of the mind that a little screamy, yelly rage is fantastic therapy, cuz once it’s done, and out of the system, happiness resumes.

So lemme share a quick story before I go stab one of my loser, faggoty co-workers in the face with a fucking fork…

All I wanted to do was get home.

Get home after 5 weeks of stupid fucking Xmas parties, stupid fucking insane Russian old ladies yelling at me, and zero fucking days off to do the 9 loads of laundry piled up on my filthy bed that my Kitty Kat climbs like Mount Everest.

Just as I was about to turn into my driveway, and crack a pamplemousse vodka soda I bought at the Quickie Mart to numb the pain of my existence, I realized the driveway was blocked.

Not blocked by debris, the recycling bin, a small filthy child, or other shit I would happily run over.

Nope.

The cocksucking snowplow came by to make everyone’s life easier and more effective.

The cocksucking snowplow motherfucker put up an ice wall barrier to make my safe space inaccessible, so the streets could look neat and clean.

The cocksucking snowplow motherfucker hasn’t the slightest clue that I’ve never had an issue driving down the road, never got stuck or snowed in or lost traction because there were 8 inches of melty white shit on the street, but thank Jesus he came by to pile it all up right in front of the lane I was going to turn into.

Thank you faggoty cocksucking snowplow motherfucker piece of shit!

Love you!

So I had to park my truck (sorry van, van, I’ll get it right one of these days) on the side of the road and go find a fucking shovel to facilitate access to my safe space to numb my brain.

You know what’s better than shovelling your driveway at 10 pm when all you want to do is fucking sleep?

Oh, I know…

Jamming an ice pick into your cock.

Fuck you loser snowplow piece of shit motherfucker douchebags!

Stick to the highways, your side street service is NOT FUCKING REQUIRED!

BURN IN HELL YOU SLAVE WAGE GLOW IN THE DARK ORANGE VEST WEARING TURD MUNCHING REDNECK CUNTS! FUCK YOU!!!

And…

I feel better

 

 

 

 

I clearly fucked up somewhere navigating this stupid reality. Or it’s possible God just hates my guts, and toys with me like I’m some loser rescue-cat obsessed with playing in old Domino’s pizza boxes, meowing desperately when no one’s fed me a bowl of tuna for at least 17 minutes.

Back in the good ol’ days, before my brain became somewhat enlightened and aware (EDITOR’S NOTE: NOT ENLIGHTENED OR AWARE!), shit just rolled easy peasy. Everything fell into my lap with minimal to zero effort… the bitches were all over me, my mural painting business was rocking, my band was rocking even harder, and I didn’t give two fucks about asking the deeper questions about Life, the Universe, and something else from a Douglas Adams title.

I don’t really understand how developing a greater empathy for humans has shunted me into an isolation box.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m much more content putting other people’s priorities before my own, but just don’t understand why being more attentive and caring locks me out of my golden ticket familiarity of getting whatever the fuck I want whenever the fuck I want it.

Whatever.

Fuck you and your irony God!

I really can’t wait to work another 10 hour shift tomorrow. Or today, whatever the time is. Insert facetious emoticon graphic here.

That’s it. That’s the rant. It’s short, I don’t care, fuck off and die.

Also, love you!!!

 

 

The old stupid cunt I hired a month ago just quit. Or called in sick, or said she was snowed in, or whatever. Pick up a fucking shovel, LOSER!!!

My 19.23 hours off (see last post) have become irrelevant.

Gonna sacrifice doing a much needed 4 loads of laundry, cleaning my van/room/toilet/kitchen to go into work again to make this fucking business magical.

Venting is good.

Rocking at your chosen vocation-de-jour is even better.

Despite zero days off again, there will be a Daily Bread tonight, this I promise. And I’ll give you a basic caveat to justify my insanity:

Responsibilities abound, but always make time for the shit you love! And fuck anyone who doesn’t support you! Well, don’t fuck them anymore. They missed they’re chance when you were into them, so don’t let the fucking douchebags back into your life. Fuck them! But don’t fuck them anymore. Also, fuck everyone. 

Now that’s a quote worthy of Alan Watts.

See you at 10 pm for Daily Bread…

Not sure if I’m bullshitting myself correctly, but methinks I will have at least 19.23 hours before I have to step into the Benmiller building again, so I’ve got some time to pump out a Daily Bread (see Daily Bread!) and write a short, stupid blog post about dumb angry shit.

Except me gots an issue…

I’m not really riled up or angry or out of sorts in anyway… (see KttyKat)

I’m kinda content.

So I have a better idea.. let’s do a “Best Of” segment to balance out some of my harmony with good ol’ fashion rage…

Rage dial still winning on average…

Enjoy!

Practice Doesn’t Always Make Perfect…

 

 

 

 

Although I realize I’m much happier being sober and never touching a cigarette again, the restaurant industry is far more tolerable when you have a beer for breakfast and chain-smoke whenever possible.

Yeah, not the words of an enlightened being, but that’s not my point here. Sometimes a 5 AM beer motivates a bit of gratitude blogging…

Much thanks to my bro for a surprise early Xmas gift. Fucking love it!

Although I’d much prefer to have a physical book in my hand at any given point, an E-reader is practical as fuck to ingest information, and a great motivation to never waste time on idiotic Tubi movies or other gay shit again.

I didn’t realize how much I missed reading, so thanks!

The same day I got this gift, I purchased a protective cover from the unholy conglomerate called Amazon. Got it today. All I wanted was just a basic, black, “this cover doesn’t define my personality” kinda thing, but I found a bullshit 40 percent off deal on a “galaxy” looking design, so I clicked a button to own it.

No regrets here, but my Kindle kinda looks like I spilled milk on it, which I would never cry about, but it also looks like spooges of dried jizz splattered and not cleaned in an efficient manner before staining into the polyethelyne lining, or formaldehyde, or whatever China uses to mass produce unlicensed Kindle products.

Whatever.

Thanks bro, Love you! Totally Awesome!

Who own da Chiefs?

Owns, Owns…