Flakes, not the kind you eat.

Its a simple premise that all should stand by in order to make yourself a respectable and honorable person. If you commit to something, don't back out on it. It is by far the largest pet peeve of mine, the flake. It encompasses all elements around me, work, family and personal. You are supposed to show up on time, and in fact, just show up. The whole no call no show for your shift at work is really disrespectful, not only to your bosses, but to your co-workers who now have to either stay longer or work doubles to cover your butt. If you don't like working somewhere, that's your prerogative, but quit in a respectful manner and see your stuff through.

As for more personal connections. I'm glad to say that those around me who committed to things and then did not show up have had the decency to call or contact me saying that they can't make it. That's the right thing to do. At least I won't be fuming at the fact that nobody shows up. I may still have a surplus of food and drink or whatever else, but I'll still put it to good use, even if, as of lately, its with myself.

Now I'm going to go off on a tangent about my social life. It's more of an introspective rant than anything else. I find it disconcertingly curious that I'm always the one to contact people to make plans, whether it be to go do something, to party, or just to hang out. Being a "B" type personality, that seems odd to me. The mind reels. Do I smell? Am I not cool enough for others to think of hanging out with me? Am I just being used for my provisions that I wantonly give out without discretion? Am I too old to party with now?

My sincere self knows that I am an entertainer. I love taking pride in the fact that I can, and have taken care of people and give them a good time. It ties in with my passion of foods. In viewing myself in third person, I like to see people enjoy the food as it feeds their soul. But yet, sometimes I have felt that my efforts, while appreciated, are just used by people for its face value and are never reciprocated.

Case in point-when was the last time I actually had a birthday party? Sixteen? Fifteen? I'm going to be 32 in October, which is less than 2 months away. Being 31, this is supposed to be my "golden year", which is complete bullshit. In the past year I've lost a girlfriend, had sick parents, downgraded a couple of friends to "accquaintances", had some ex coworkers try and throw me under the bus at work (didn't work asshole!), quit my job in order to find a bit of self peace only to fail, went back to my old job and have been tryin to crawl back up the financials, had the west nile virus, totally fucked up my right knee, and its been 105+ for the past 2 months.

Well whatever, I'm rambling. The good friends I have are the ones that count.

Lord of the Flies

I completely forgot about this strange once a year summer occurrence. I woke up the other morning to walk into the kitchen to find my kitchen invaded by a swarm of flies.

Considering that I am anal retentive about keeping my house clean, I hate this yearly happening. It still perplexes me as to; one, where they came from and two, how the hell they all got inside the house!

The only thing I can think of is that the garden moisture and compost may have helped, but that usually only brings small fruit and white flies that stay in the garden. The trash cans are empty and not breeding anything. So I'm stumped, but it's happened every year since I've been here. I just wonder how they all got inside. All my windows stay closed, and if I open the doors to go outside, they get closed behind me or they stay open for no longer than like 30 seconds. It's not like one little fucker is running a covert ops point team stationed above the door to call in the troops once I open the door or something.

Anyways, I get out the vacuum and have sucked up about 30 to their deaths in the past 3 days. I think they are attracted to the cooler weather inside the house, yet most of the time, once they get inside, the temperature shock kills half of them off within a day. Suicide by air conditioner.

This only lasts like 2 weeks tops too, which is strange. Meantime, I am winning the war.

angry beaver!

What a weird and stressful day today. I had to try and tie off a bunch of loose ends today before I head out of town tomorrow for almost a week. Apparently mother nature tried to put the kabosh on my needed yardwork today first of all. I planned on doing it today because there was a front coming in this afternoon that was supposed to maybe give some rain on Friday and drop the temps from 102 to 76 in one day. Figure I would take advantage of the cool weather while I can.

I get started and barrel through the front yard with the trimmers and start to rake and bag up the junk. That's when the thunder came, then a drop, and another, followed by about 2 million more. Now what else would you expect out of me? Shorts, tank top, in a rainstorm....using a leafblower. Sorry, had to get it done else it would be a shitty yard in the morning. As if that wasn't enough, when the rain really started coming down, I had to dig up and install one extra drip line in order to save a couple of plants. Work done, soaked, I shower (the irony...) and head out to get a haircut and then head to the gym.

I get back, shower again, and pack up for manana. After, I'm using the laptop to look up directions, weather, travel info when out of nowhere my connection crashes. WTF? I blamed it on the servers being swamped, but then I checked the actual router modem in the office to find it smoking and fried. Wonderful. Not only can I not really afford a lot of things outside of my bills, but I need to drop $80 on a new modem.

Soooo...until I get it next week, I will be living off the whims of the airwaves and random servers. I may or may not be able to connect to email or the net. I may end up going somewhere I can get a signal once I get back in town to do so until I get my replacement. Not too far away though, gas is still rising. I paid $30 for less than 8 gallons today. Pathetic...

I'm out of town suckers....later.

munch munch munch

I have a big annoying hypocritical pet peeve. Now I say hypocritical because I have not been immune to certain related gastronomical acts that may make a average person feel disgusted. I've sat and eaten a pint of Ben & Jerry's and then started on a second one. I've gotten into a pizza eating competition between myself and one other dude wherein we tackled 2 little Caesars pizzas each. I'll make a full meal in the middle of the night. I've stuffed a whole hamburger in my mouth before. I started a candy collecting competition with dirty Ryan for the sheer sake of collecting as much candy s possible in a set timeframe, afterwards to eat ourselves sick.I eat my meals incredibly fast, so fast in fact that I once set a personal record for eating 6 taco bell items in less than 3 minutes...on several different occasions.
Yet out of all this, I am disgusted at the existence of the open mouth chewer. Whats worse is that the open mouth chewer dude is my Dad.
Sometimes its so bad that I lose my appetite. The nonstop shoveling of forkfuls into an orifice that still has unswallowed bites in it. The visual references of mashed up meat and vegetable bits rolling around in open air. Whats worse though, is his incessant smacking. A ever present wet "mack,mack,mack...squack, mack" permeates the dinner table. Worse yet, an occasional unidentifiable food flake sometimes flies out of the mouth and onto the table.
I suppose we have our own flaws in regards to the culinary world of gastronomical oddities, but his didn't really surface until about 6 years ago. That or I never really paid attention to his eating style. I'm going to guess also that at his age, the "I don't give a fuck" age as I call it, he shouldn't care. On the bright side, I'm happy that he can enjoy his meals now since over the past 5 years, his past cancer treatments has massively wrecked his GI tract and had limited what he could eat. Now he can enjoy himself again.

it takes a LOT

As most people who know me, I have a very long fuse. It takes a lot to piss me off to the point of saying something or doing something about what upsets me. But the fact that a photograph can do it is amazing. I'll warn you, it is very upsetting. Continue down..

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.
.

.

.

.

.

.

..

.

.

...

.

..

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

And on top of that, notice that she is standing on the American Flag.

The sheer fact that youth like this can be corrupted by some extreme adult group to publicly commit an act of blatant insenitivity and degradation is appauling. I wish nothing less than a long painful life for these people filled with a final agonizing death.

Apparently in the midst of their warped sense of "righteousness" they had forgotten that they have the ability to spead free spoken hatred due to the battles and lives lost of the soldiers they condemn.

Children of the vitcims of 9/11 who currently serve or will be serving in their hated armed forces to preserve the ability to speak their twisted language of brainwashed hatred.

Those men and women in those forces know that these individuals live in our country, and are aware of their preachings, yet they continue to do a job that preserves their right to say those things, regardless of their assumed dissapointment and animosity towards them.

Soldiers hurt. In addition to the blood and sweat they shed, sometimes in their own deaths, they also hurt emotionally. Soldiers cry.

Soldiers miss their families, thier husbands and wives, their children, miss the births of thier new children, and sometimes die before even being able to see thier children. They miss thier home, their neighboorhoods, cities, states, and their country. When they finally return, they come back to see people that are upset that they made it home instead of being blown up by a IED or shot to death in combat.

They come home to see someone standing on the flag. The flag that was one of the only things that gave them a feeling of safety, comfort and pride. A small piece of home in a world full of death and dispare.

How you feel about the war is your God given right, by living in this country to feel the way you decide, and everyone will at least understand that it is YOUR view. Sometimes however, the rare occasion of freedom may need to be bound and duct taped shut due to blatant stupidity and wanton hatred. I pity those wasted souls.

I'm an ass at times, and I like it.

Yep, I am an ass at times. If you have a problem with that, you can dag-gum leave. I can come off as an ass to most people at times. I don't discriminate. Whether it be a friend or girlfriend, family or customers and coworkers it's all the same. I honestly don't care too much about it at the time. I have my moments that tend to overbalance it. Why do I do it?

Hormone imbalance, lack of chocolate intake, bad night's sleep, tampon in too far, Emo's, Arizona drivers, or no reason at all. It happens. It's who I am and who I'll always will be (barring prescription mental drugs and psychotherapy for my past issues). That's why I generally am not an ass to those really close to me that have been around for most of my life, for they know what's going on with those marbles rolling around in my gourd.

What I get tired of the most is people telling me to fucking smile because I always look upset. When people say that, I'm not upset. It's my "normal" face. If I was upset, you'd see a distinct difference. My "normal" face just happens to appear agitated. Yours may look peaceful, happy, neutral or whatever. In fact, when people tell me to smile, it irks me. I already have to try and slap on a plastic smile at work and that's tough enough.

It's like me telling you to "be skinny" or "don't be stupid" or " don't be ______(insert trait here)". It can't happen instantaneously.

There, now I ranted and feel better. I'm still in a ornery mood today, but at least I can head into work tonite with a real smile.

Sponges, Uncle Sam, and other things that soak up money

Ah, my weekly rant. This week I rant on the unfortunately ubiquitous "sponge". That person who hangs around you or a person in general for the sole purpose of sponging off said person.

The kind of person who doesn't lift a finger to assist with a dinner check, or to chip in for gas, or a bar tab, sodas out of your fridge, whatever...Of course one doesn't wish to confront them for the fear of looking like a cheap ass prick, or to back the sponge into a corner and force it to try and defend itself to the teeth in all its spongy ways.

I see it all the time at work, mostly through random first timers that come in a group, and especially in a girl/guy pair. Please you spongy gold digger wearing knock off coach and fendi gear that you picked up at the Apache Junction swap mart, don't try to play yourself off like Paris Hilton when you are hanging with a guy wearing a hand me down hoodie that he found in the lost and found from his $5.75/hr Target job. If your succubus self wishes to sponge all the life out of HIS wallet, it won't take much, about two drinks, so I hope you feel good about yourself.

Even Kanye West would call you a Golddigger, and he usually tries not to.

There's a word every sponge should look up- Contributing.

And not the obligatory once a month donation just to squeak by and claim to help out. For J.C.'s sake, at least ask to help out and hope that your host is numbed enough to say that they'll take care of it.

It goes all the way to the government, and Uncle Sam is the biggest dirtiest sponge of them all.

It's bad enough that I have to pay taxes now on a regular basis, but its worse this year when I try to set up IRA accounts and transfer funds from my mutual funds to other accounts within the same firm. Apparently sales of funds are equal to exchanges and must be taxed as sales of shares. So, even though I already pay capital gains tax on the accounts, to transfer the money to myself, I sell and buy my own shares to myself and pay taxes on both ends on top of the capital gains.

Did I give you a headache? You should feel mine. It would be comforting to know if my b.s. tax dollars went to something cool like a guided missile, body armor or time travel research. Instead it will probably go to some pork belly representative's $500 toilet seat.

Keep in mind everyone(and especially you sponges out there), that just like your old kitchen dish sponges, they eventually get so old,dirty and contaminating that we have to throw them out.

Bear with me

Bear with me because I am truly offended. Tonight, as I was playing around and posting on the net, I came across a Myspace persona called "Fuck the soldiers". At best, a publicity stunt, at worst, a blatant attack upon our service members past and present.

First, let me present you with a non-descript, unheard of urban legend that, as you see above, from personal experience, may be true.

I've been to Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, numerous times to visit and pay my respects.

Above is a picture of the main mast copper bell from the USS Arizona, salvaged from the ship after the Dec 7th, 1941 attack. As per my personal, first hand knowledge, any picture taken of this bell is somewhat out of focus. I have various photos taken, from both this past year's visit, and from years before of this bell. None of which are fully in focus. The legend is that you cannot take a perfectly focused picture of this bell due to the fact that because of the severe destructive and deadly nature of that's day's attack, that the spirit of the ship and it's lost souls forbid any recording of this bell. In effect, its so traumatic of an event, that the bell itself is tainted by death.

I was 10 feet from the bell in this picture and focusing on the bell. The lady in the background was 30 feet away.

Why this point?

Try to at least attempt some general respect.

Some concepts and ideals, may be questioned at best, but should not be chastised or condemned, in my opinion.

I have numerous family members that served in wars from WWII to present day.

"Fuck the soldiers" is around to isolate and degrade those who are not only currently serving, but those who have served, and died for our country. The soldiers who have served and died for not only our freedoms, but for those who have no ties to our own country except for humanity in general.

Shame on them.

We are based on the principle that those who started that webpage have the inherent right to post their views, whether right or wrong, popular or not, due to the general freedom fighters past and present. If it were not for those souls, that person/persons would not be able to post such a degrading point of view. Apparently they have lost such hindsight in their hatred.

I am a military supporter, regardless if the war being waged is righteous or not. The current soldiers may or may not wish to fight and serve, but they do their job regardless, which is honorable and justified of recognition at the least and not deserving of condemnation.

People have their opinions of mainstream politics. I know that mine are totally different than say the person next to me. I at least have the respect to understand and hear the differences with an open mind, regardless of my personal beliefs.

That's what makes this nation great. Whether it be that you and I differ on if you like Twinkies vs zingers, Cowboys vs Colts, Ford vs Toyota, Republican or Democrat.

It becomes wrong when someone spews out blatant, ignorant, and asinine gibberish without said respect for common sense.

I respect your opinions, but sometimes, for some people out there, I feel regret for the inadequacies and ignorance of others.

To our boys and girls in harm's way- Godspeed, always the wind be at ye back, the sun shine upon ye face and the grass rise to meet ye feet.

80's coke revival part 2

To summarize yesterday's post, I believe that coke usage is back on the rise again. Last night I had confirmation of this. One of my regulars is a crisis intervention and behavioral addiction specialist at an undisclosed Arizona hospital. I asked him flat out, since it was his area of expertise, if coke use was on the rise. His answer was unequivocally yes. He explained that there was a difference in the habit this time around though. Back in 80's, coke was in all by itself. Now however, it has two deadly partners in crime.

Backtrack 5 years ago. Half a decade ago, and still prevalent now, methamphetamine (ice, meth, etc..) use in Arizona was leading the nation. It was cheap and easy to make, gave a long lasting high and was readily available almost to the point of equalling heading own to the corner store for some milk.

He said that the concept of meth encompassed all forms of use. It can be snorted, injected, smoked, and in desperate cases, eaten. The abuser wishes to maintain the highest dopamine levels possible ( feeling the high) without losing control, getting too high or crashing too hard.

Eventually meth use reaches a critical mass so to speak, and the users need an additional "bump" to maintain the high, or a different combo high to get the job done.

Enter the coke revival.

Users now are combining meth, coke and alcohol use to get a solid high of managed dopamine.

The initial high off meth to start the high, and then an orchestrated use of coke (a stimulant) and alcohol ( a depressant) to manage the ride. Hence, aside from the general coke usage mixed with booze for the average user, the hardcore users are riding the meth train, with coke as the stoker for the engine.

So...now we have a main reason for the increase of use, but how is it becoming more prevalent?

My idea stems from the current societal and political state of the state and country.

Our country is still at war overseas on two fronts, and a third ( Iran) is possibly looming. So the current administration is hogtied with maintaining a war on terror, not a war on drugs.

In addition, the current internal security is also centered on terror, but also on illegal immigration. It would make sense that centering on illegal immigration would round up drug traffickers, but honestly...when was the last time you heard of a huge drug bust on the news?

We hear now about how many marines were killed today, or what illegal legislation protests are marching, but the drug lords are under the radar.

Don't be surprised to see even more instances of hardcore drug use as they become more readily available. When that happens, once again, expect the 80's to come full circle, and we have another Reagan era drug war to quell. Followed by a 90's and 2000's return of terrorist activity...unless somebody actually decides to do a job right and take care of everything.

80's revival and its dark side

There are two things that I love about being a kid of the 80's.

It's music, and Ronald Reagan. Unfortunately, we can't bring back Ronnie, but the 80's music has already made a comeback.

Unfortunately, along with it, I've noticed another comeback of something that I generally hate. I've been seeing a rapid increase in the sightings of cocaine at work and around town.

Now, as I've been working in this industry for over 10 years now, I've seen a lot of vice. Ranging from the usual alcohol abuse, to minor drug presence, prostitution, blackmail and other illicit acts. I always knew it was around me, but since I am never directly involved with it, it doesn't apply to me.

Obviously, coke use was huge in the 80's. Big business, yuppies, 30k millis, all involved the lifestyle. It's all come around again. In the past month, I've seen a massive increase in the prevalence of the drug.

Honestly, I hate coke heads. Ironically I can withstand alcoholics and potheads, but I hate the coke habit. It's so addictive and self destructive, and chances are, leads to many other avenues to more hardcore vices and lifestyles that are, well, generally undesirable.

I actually told off a said cokehead on Weds nite. This dude came in with 3 friends, already all 8balled up, and ordered 3 shots and a water, and some coke. Coke as in the snorting kind.

I told him one, that we are a cop bar and its a generally bad idea to ask around in here, two that there isn't anyone in here that COULD help you, and three, that I hate that fucking habit and don't like anyone who does that shit.

Apparently I caught him off guard, for he was under the impression that bartenders are the general go-to guys when it comes to this stuff.

I have given out advice to customers as per what strip club to visit, who to ask for a free cover charge and generally where to go for a good time, but as for that stuff, I'm glad to say I am not involved.

Anyways, he tried to make good by saying sorry and he thought that I would know. Needless to say, he and his group avoided me the rest of the evening. I just wished that we had a off duty cop in the bar like we usually do so we could have messed with him a bit.

Hopefully I'll be out of this industry soon, or at the very least that this habit won't make a comeback.

34 cent anal retention

So, this is yet another reason to believe that the fanny pack mafia and HOA associations are in cahoots and must be wiped off the face of the earth.

I was off today, Thursday, and after cleaning house a bit this morning, I decided to head out to the Goodwill first to drop off a bunch of donations, and then decided to try out my new metal detector that Doug got me for Christmas. I wanted to try it out on a few of the neighborhood sand pits and common areas in my surrounding housing developments. I hit up one small playground and got 34 cents and a action figure, score for a first outing.

I left that area and drove up the street to a sand volleyball court that I usually walk Jenny by in a development called Silverwawk, a two block jaunt south of my house.

After scouring the sand court with nothing to show, I decided to walk through the greenbelt aside of it to a flood control drainage ditch 100 yards away. Along the way I had a good hit and started digging a small hole with my knife to find what may be underground. It was a small hole, about 2 inches by 3 inches by 2 inches. As I got down, turns out I was uncovering a buried can.

Just when I realize that, I hear someone yelling at me from back at the sandpit.

"Hey! Excuse me! Excuse me! Do you live here!"

There was this old guy wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt, a black fannypack and a cell phone belt case, wearing old school blue blocker sunglasses.

"I'm up about 1 1/2 bocks north in Stonehenge." I say.

"What's your address!"

"Excuse me?"

"WHAT is your address??"

"Why would you want to know that?"

"Because you can't be here, let alone digging on our property! You're trespassing!"

I didn't say another word while I got up, neatly repacked the dirt back in the hole and walked back to my truck under the careful eye of said neighborhood Nazi watchdog.

I get to my truck to find him parked behind me, religiously writing down all my pertinent information...truck make, plate number, description of me, all the gun stickers on my truck, realizing that I could have squashed his ass in a second for being a wannabe step below rent-a-cop no talent assclown.

As I got to my truck, one of the female neighbors was in front of her house and cheerfully and warmly asked if I had found any goodies.

I smiled and said " I only found a quarter today, but SOMEBODY doesn't like me walking around in your neighborhood, so I gotta leave" , as I turn and say loud enough directed to his car.

" Yeah, I think you parked in front of his house."

Good to know, I always like to know where the enemy lives, what gold colored Hyundai he drives, what he looks like and what little black and white yapper dog he has in his backyard.

I guess I was in the wrong in digging up and removing a piece of garbage from his HOA greenbelt. My Bad.

I was seriously shocked. As if I'm doing something so wrong by exploring harmlessly. I just find it amusing that a HOA representative, if even that, takes it so seriously. I hear there is a shortage of neighborhood rent-a-cops, good to know that he is the best in the biz...which is just about the equivalent to saying that you are the smartest kid with Down Syndrome...

Dude..ease up off me.

Grrr....this past week, everything that can go wrong did.
I had a crew from Southwest gas come out and examine the house due to an oddly high gas bill in the middle of summer. Turns out that a underground pipe that ran under my lawn eroded away and was flooding my yard with gas. At some spots in the dirt, the gas was over 50% saturated. So they dug up my yard and detoxed it all day 8 days ago.
I brought in my lawnmower to get repaired after attempting to rebuild the sputtering engine. It didn't work, so I bring it in and they tell me 2 weeks to get it repaired. Turns out that it's lawnmower season. Obviously, seeing that in the monsoon season, my grass grows an inch in like 3 days. I needed to rent a mower before the two week time frame. Day after day they were rented out, and finally, after 3 days, I found one. $12 later, the lawn was mowed.
Just in time for me to see that either due to southwest gas' digging process or the pressure change from removing the natural gas that saturated the ground, that a water pipe was now leaking. I'll have to take care of that later.
So, after I mowed the lawn on Thursday, I had extra time to bring my truck back into the shop because after the $700 of work that was done to it before my California trip, the new belt that they installed was constantly squealing.
They said that it was the tension pulley. Once again, my neighbor told me it would probably be that. I hate it when he's right. So, after 2 hours and another $160, the truck is finally working perfect.
So, Sunday rolls around. I invite some peeps over to party with after I ran a bunch of errands seeing that since I got back from Cali, it's my first day off in 7 days. I grill and smoke up a shit ton of food.
Apparently a hot day and a smoke flooded patio with the screen door open a good amount of the time makes every single fly seek shelter inside the house. I must have a hundred flies in the house. I've been killing 10 a day every day since the initial invasion.
God faced Sunday night, and that was fun.
What was not fun was Monday.
When the day starts with puking up on the carpet in the morning I knew that
I was going to be at wits end Monday night.
Ok, so, my new cell phone has a flaw. It keeps shutting itself off at random times. In the middle of a text or phone call, whenever...Supposedly it's a bad battery. So now I have a semi-reliable phone that needs fixing. Whatever, I'll just bring it in and they'll tell me to call someone...and then they will tell me to call someone, who will then tell me to go talk to the tech guy at the store which was where I'll be in the first time. Can't wait to deal with that.
The main bullshit on Monday was this-I hate my computer. Immensely...
My computer is like 3 years old, a relic in tech years. Over the years of use and porn, it got bugs, that were fixed, files went missing or corrupted and it got to the point where applications, windows explorer or the Internet browser would shut down for no reason. So, after attempts at various fix-up software programs and tinkering, I decided to use the computer's restore system.
Strike 1-the computer is 3+ years old and the restore system brings everything back to the factory settings while leaving your current files and other things you have done to it (supposedly)
Strike 2-I did not make a backup of important items and files.
Strike 3-The system restore lied.
So, after "restoring" it, I wiped out all my addresses,forms,passwords,email files, Internet settings, antivirus software, financial files...everything. All gone.
So guess what I did yesterday? Reloaded all my erased programs that I could, redid up my email accounts (still missing addresses), reloaded all my Internet settings and am in the process of regathering all the important things I did to my system for 3 years.
On the plus side, no programs are randomly shutting down anymore....
I still don't have an anti-virus/Internet security firewall program anymore and well, my financial records are thrown back to the stone age (you know, writing checks and balancing your accounts via carbon copy paper...)
Can't wait to see what other bad luck I get this week.

Some things I don't get

So, the Hoff was in force on Thursday night at home hanging with Chris and Doug. I think that the Hoff comes out in full force more if wine is involved. Can't help it, it just tastes so good and is pretty good for you. Anyways, besides the point.

About 1am and we have the munchies, but we obviously can't drive anywhere. Doug is crashed out in the extra bedroom because he has to get up early. So Chris and I take a walk up the street to Wal-Mart for noshing supplies.

We get there on a mission for some ice cream and taquitos. There's a combo.

While we are there I pick up a handful of vitamin waters and a gallon of milk.

We are meandering through the produce section when, in my drunken shopping vision, I see a girl in front of the veggies. What caught my eye was the fact that I could see the BONES IN HER ARMS!! Her skin was starting to hang off them, as well as the rest of her 80 lb body.

Totally grossed out now, I look at her cart...she had 5 heads of lettuce in it and 3 other veggies.

That's it.

Now, albeit, I am not the leading authority in high health, but what the hell is wrong with some of you bitches out there!!! I applaud my friends and strangers that have preset goals and wish to try and make lifestyle changes for the better, but some people take things to an obsessive extreme that not only is actually repulsive but unsafe.

Yeah, I know when I look in the mirror, I see a little bit of chub, but most of the time, I'm looking at my attempt at macho flexing. You know what, I know I can lose a little more weight, but I am not one of those people who in reality is 80 lbs and sees themselves as 300lbs.

That's why I own a shirt that says I'm winning in the battle against anorexia.

I know I will never be small. I could lose all the fat and still be big. In fact, the way my frame is set up, if I got all nothing but muscle, I'd look awkward.

Point being, people shouldn't be obsessed with looking how the media,Hollywood and magazines tell you what looks pretty. Do something until it makes you happy, and fuck the rest.

Been working out and been being responsible all week...go ahead and have a slice of cake...and eat it too fuckers!

That's my rant...I'm a foodie...and I will always will be, life just tastes too good to give it up.

"Excuse me, could you shove your boot up my ass?"

Wooonderful flippity pancake flippin day today I must say. A wonderful transition from a superb frekkin night last night.

-I picked the wrong day to stop sniffing glue!-Airplane 1982

Work, for once, was balls to the wall busy last night. It hasn't been that busy in a very long time, which was good, because I know that I needed the cash. I didn't mind so much the crowd, I can handle busy. It's the associated drama that comes with busy that stresses me out. As a litmus test to last nights levels, my paper was turning bright red.
1) When it's busy and there's one bartender-there's a learned skill out there called patience, which most people commonly lack. Hey, believe me, I would really like a jack and coke served pronto to me as well, but tonight it just aint gonna happen on demand.
2) However, hot bitches and people that have been tipping me extremely well have immunity to the above number 1.
3)We run a game show on Wednesdays. A very nasty, dirty, insulting and debaucherous one. So much so that we issue warnings to our customers who may be too sensitive. Say sensitive enough wherein the husband of one of our contestants who showed off her white trash titties, which literally popped out of her top and bounced off the floor and spawned the " you could mop our floor with your tits" comment from one of our hosts-starts chucking glasses at the bar, and myself, resulting in a 8 person brawl which the end result was me not being able to get good sleep from a throbbing pain in my right arm from crashing through the front door jam to get said "unable to take a joke" husband out. Not to mention I damaged my favorite pair of cargo shorts to the point of no return in process.
The good part of the night?
I did make good money, which I needed for the second boot up my ass. I leave work and drive home to try and take a 4 hour nap and get up early to bring my truck into the shop to be serviced for the long road trip to cali in a week. Did I get good sleep? Hell no! My right side was throbbing so bad that it woke me up once. I was still so pumped up from a bad night that I couldn't relax to fall asleep. I think I dozed for 2 hours.
I get up and head over to Brakes Plus a few miles away. I have a shop next to my house, but after the last time and ESPECIALLY today (as you will see later) I won't go to Advanced Auto service again. I check in and request a 100,000 mile service, a A/C system check, and fuel filter change. Granted, I have never brought the truck in for a major service since purchasing it in 2002, so I shouldn't have been surprised at the results. They called and said I needed a power steering and transmission flush, a new serpentine belt, new shocks and struts(still the original 1999 ones), replace the rear brake pads, fuel filter, oil change and filters,resurface brake drums and a new kitchen sink. I okayed everything except the shocks n struts. All of it would have been over $900. Well, last night I went though the paperwork in the glove box and the last time I was at Advanced Auto service, in addition to the oil change, I ordered the FREGGIN POWER STEERING FLUSH! What? did you conveniently forget to do it? You remembered to charge me for it, I know that.
After knowing that know, I called back Brakes Plus and asked for them to put all the replaced parts in a box for me so that I can see that the work was actually done. They are, after all, mine. I think I can handle tossing them in the trash myself. Maybe I'll make a fucking sculpture out of them in the shape of a hand giving the finger and give it as a gift to the other auto shop entitled "Boot ass fucker #1"
*I just cracked myself up on that one by the way*

So, I get to drop $700 on the truck today. They also lack a shuttle service, so I got to ride my bike back and forth to the place in 105 degree heat...which really wasn't too bad, I'm nit picking now. That said...
Hasselhoff out!

Passion, or the lack thereof

Captain Unmotivated. It's what I've been calling myself lately, especially in the past 9 months. My motivation to do anything just doesn't seem to be there anymore. If I appear peppy and gun-ho, it's guaranteed to be from a vitamin B and redbull shock to the system. What's sad is that not even that works anymore.

Unmotivated and passionless. I don't get it. It applies to everything too, not just to isolated hobbies or T.V. shows. I almost feel like things have gotten so stagnant and predictable.

Friends and social outings aren't as lively anymore. My job is feeling stale.

Nothing new is happening in the family. Hell, even my dog is just as lazy and predictable(as well as the wear spot in the carpet where she likes to lay).

Strangely, the only thing that I look forward to is sleep nowadays, and that is an entirely different tossing and turning struggle in itself.

I have heard that the constant desire to sleep, as well as an adherent to specific vices (aka cocktail hour and the ever persistent midget porn fix) for comfort is a sign of depression.

Believe me, I have plenty of issues in my past and current life that could have very well effected my psyche and I'm starting to think that my constant lack of energy and motivation isn't a physical ailment such as anemia (which I have been in the past) or the lack of nutrients but very well be a mental issue.

Being stagnant isn't a good thing, but there is only so many things that I am able to do within my confines of my current lifestyle now. My job, my family, my location, all of which are not easily altered, nor would be wise to dramatically change course on either.

Still though, it would be wonderful to have enough cash to live on for a while and just drift with my dog across the country, or to some random island somewhere.

People tend to get tied down by the things they desire most in life-their job, their house, their lifestyles, and on top of that, all the things you want to own, end up owning you. Thank you, Tyler Durden-"you are not your job, your car, the contents of your wallet...you're not your fucking khakis.."

Not that I think the objects I have own me, I'm not materialistic at all. I can't remember the last gadget or high end electronic I bought, nor tell you the last time I bought a piece of clothing that cost over $20.

I know I'm more experience based. Trying something new, or revisiting something that I did before that I liked pleases me. It's bittersweet though, for when that experience is over, I know that I am returning to the same mundane and predictable lifestyle that I described above.

It would be interesting to be someone that had long-term memory, but their short-term memory only lasted a day or two. Besides a constant supply of post-it notes to remind myself of things, a fresh outlook on a daily basis is definitely desired.

But I ramble now...I have things to do, like weekly chores. Maybe I'll try to find a new way to wash my damn laundry.

The first sign of the Apocalypse

There are few articles that can get my blood curdling, but the ones that always do are any article or story that vehemently expresses uncompromising truth that there is such a theory called "the Pussification of America"- thank you George Carlin for that theory..go ahead, research it, nosh on it, chew it, enjoy....
So, there I was, checking email, and reading my daily news blurbs spat out on the only neutral, non leftist, non right wing source I have found yet, MSN.com.
I'm browsing down the screen, noshing on a granola bar for lunch, when I quite nearly spat it out all over my monitor. There in the middle of the webpage was a short, two line link and a picture entitled- "Makeup for Men? More mainstream than you think..."
You have got to be shitting me.
Apparently there is a push to make Men's cosmetics more widespread for "today's" man. Concealers (coined blemish cover sticks on the website), eyebrow gel, and eye liner, they say may very well sit next to a man's razor, aftershave and deodorant in their travel bag soon.
DUDE!!!!
YOU'RE A MAN!!! Knock this shit off! There are only a few times when makeup takes a major hands on part in a man's life!
1) green, tan, black and grey smeared on a man's face as he charges headfirst with pistol and bayonet in the thickest, darkest jungles of god knows where in hand to hand combat.
2) Acting in a major movie, which is part of the job.
3) glitter and hot pink lipstick smeared all over his face as he sits in a dark, strobe light filled titty bar and some half or fully nekkid stripper named Bambi grinds and molests the poor bastard.
4) His bed pillow has a residual image on it after possibly going home with said Bambi, or some other chic from a night of drunken debauchery and slum-busting.
One more step in the world of a possible metrosexual takeover.
You know, I'm cool with whoever you want to be. I know bi and gay people, and work with some that are far worse, and may be a whole lot closer to some than you may think. I'm cool because it's not pushed on me. This may be a step in the wrong direction though. Men don't wear makeup. "Boooyssss..(said with a lisp)" do.
I can't wait to see what the next half dozen signs of the Apocalypse are...in the meantime, I'll be sitting at home, sexist, rednekked and even homophobic (if you with to label me as such), with my dog, a case of Budweiser, a bottle of jack daniels, eating nearly raw steaks, loading magazines with hollow points, polishing my rifles...sitting, dressed in camo, with camo MAKEUP on.

Put a bullet in them already!

Last night, Crystal was browsing around reading various news articles and she stumbled across an article on Arizona's death row. Upon seeing the article, I have come to realize how stupid bureaucracy in the legal system is.

Here in Arizona, there are inmates on death row that committed crimes and were sentenced clear back in 1977.

Um...why are they still allowed to breathe my air?

Not to mention waste my tax dollars?

It takes on average (depending on state and local funding) between $60,000 to over $100,000 per YEAR to maintain,feed,care for, EDUCATE, and give medical care to death row inmates.

The average cost of a bullet? 40 cents.

Why the need to school them or provide comforting amenities in jail? What, are they planning to get a good job or start a family someday? Did they suddenly get rehabilitated, found God and are trying to live a wholesome life now?

Remember when Saddam Hussein got sentenced to die? It was law that stated once a sentence was handed down, then it must be carried out within 30 days. Sure enough, 28 days later he was swinging in the gallows.

THAT is justice my friends. You have 28 days to pray your ass off, write letters to families,friends, do some soul searching and prepare yourself to die. That's it, after that, consider your debt to the man upstairs paid for-whether you are forgiven for your crimes after that is only up to Him now.

So why are all these inmates allowed to remain alive? The appeals process, liberal human rights groups that wish to abolish the death penalty, money hungry lawyers, etc...

"(Insert name here) has the right to live!!!"

Bullshit! You know what...The baby thrown in an Arizona canal tied to a cinder block had rights, the store clerk that got murdered by a racist post 9/11 fanatic had rights, and the two young ladies in 1977 who were bound, mouths taped shut, sexually assaulted, then had dirt shoved in their noses to asphyxiate them and then afterwards stabbed multiple times to make sure they were dead followed by having their breasts mutilated by the dude in the picture above....they all had FUCKING rights too.

Hell, one inmate even wants to die. He's been on death row for a few years and has blatantly rejected his rights to appeals and wishes to die. Yet he is still delayed because a Right to Live group filed an appeal in his name.

Put a damn bullet in them already! You do the crime, you do the damn time!

Cinco de drinko

Yesterday was once again one of those fun filled days that bartenders hate. While y'all are busy having a great time tearing it up on a holiday created by American liquor companies to celebrate an insignificant day in Mexican history wherein they whooped some french butt-we're busting our asses for not enough money in order to get you that ice cold corona that was brewed in Chicago.

I hope you all thoroughly enjoyed the holiday guys. As for me, I'm enjoying the fact that today, Sunday, you are all in a world of hurt from suffering from nasty hangovers. If it's any consolation to you, I only walked with a mere $130 last night after dealing with every single short-bus drinker that was either too wasted to get into, or not cool enough to get into one of the many "Mexican" bars nearby, therefore had to resort to coming into our bar as leftovers.

Bitter? A bit. It's a wonderful start to the slow season in Arizona. Last night was just a grandiose shotgun start to the summer season of no cash. A veritable combo-platter of slow cheapness...

1) ASU finals week-apparently kids are too busy studying to go out- that is definitely a FIRST!

2) Cinco De Mayo- guess what, our bar isn't a Mexican cantina. We didn't promote anything for the weekend, we were overstaffed, overpriced and definitely NOT busy.

3) Fight night- Mayweather vs. De La Hoya on pay per view. People watching the fight at home or somewhere that carried the broadcast. We didn't have it.

Add them all together and we have a super-shitty night.

While I'm on a bitter tirade relating to a Mexican holiday- We (Phoenix) had a protest march last Tuesday, along with most of the other major cities in this country regarding immigration reform and amnesty. I'll be short, as I've already touched on this subject before.

All you guys that protested on Tuesday can eat me.

My contributions/payments -

$120 a month for my own health care/insurance

$42 a month for dental/vision insurance

$600 per 6 months for auto insurance

$140 a week average on groceries/gas

$70,000 (my parents) for my education from ASU

$4000 a year average on state income tax/welfare/social security that I can't use.

$200-$1000 on other utility/necessary/personal bills

$39.95 for a Mexican Flag so I can shove it up your ass due to the fact that illegal immigrants come here and are now expecting to get all of the above items plus a whole lot more for free.

Come here legally or get the heck out.

Speaking of getting the hell out, it's about a month out until Hermosa Beach. Still no travellers confirmed, or reservations or dates made as we are still too tight on cash, but it still is in the works.

That's my rant for now, and I'm sticking to it.

Part 2...Princesses

As I was working last night, I saw a few "CP"'ers with their collars popped up and it reminded me that I still have the other side to bag on...the princesses.

Princesses, Scottsdale Princesses, Daddy's girls, or as people in my general stature call them (no joking here), Scottsdale Bitches.

Picture this...you are out on the town, just kickin it the cool, doing it your own way as you always do, enjoying a frosty adult beverage with some of your friends at a local bar or club in downtown. Across the way you see this fine ass girl. I mean fiiiinne...nice and slim, tig 'o bitties, pretty face and hair, a sense of style, cute friends she's with...i mean nice. So, you caballero, get your mojo on point and stroll on over there to make her acquaintance. You get there and simply say hello. She turns to look at you and gives you a look as if you have an assortment of visually disturbing skin disorders like rashes, boils, lesions...leprosy, etc...oh, and you are poorer than her and are definitely invading her bubble.

So you get your clothes at stores ranging from Wal-Mart to Macy's. It's frugal, but still trendy. Not trendy enough for her unfortunately as she ONLY shops at the borgatta and at the Biltmore, where it should cost a mere $100 to just enter through the front doors of the place.

You are scum, in fact, worse than scum because you are a "commoner".

Oh, where do I start...

First off Daddy's girl, you should be extremely thankful that you will never have to work a single day in your life. Poppa got you covered. Nice 6 bedroom house (at least), a few cars, all the clothes you want, maybe a boat, vacations all the time, and a $200,000 throw away college degree that you will never use (that college money was just for you to go party your ass off four 5 years and say you got a degree). Now all you have to worry about is finding a cute rich boy to hook up with, lay out and tan all day while your cabana boy brings you pina coladas and meet up your cosmetic surgeon to get your annual lipo to remove said pina colada fat buildup on your booty.

Granted, there are some "chosen" children in this world that are taken care of by their parents who understand and appreciate what they have gotten and actually adhere to a good work ethic, all the while not letting anyone know that they come from money. I'm one of them.

As an only child, yeah I got spoiled back in the day. In high school and early college though, I had an aversion to my folks, moved out of state and tried to get away and do my own thing. I still feel guilty about ostracising my parents like that. But now I work alongside my parents and still don't ask for handouts. I work a full time job, save my cash as best I can, pay my bills, and try to live a happy existence with what I have.

Do I have a trust fund? Yes. Have I touched it? No. Will I ever touch it? Yea, way down the road. That trust fund, while made for me, is going to go to my kid's(if I ever have one) schooling. If not, then it will be a down payment on my house, or for emergencies. Most of the time, I forget it's there until I get a statement in the mail.

I work relatively hard for my cash. I started working when I was 12 on a paper route. I worked at my family's ice cream shop at 15 til I was 19. I've worked in retail at a second job 18-20 at Macy's. I've worked at Pizza Hut, by far the greasiest and worst job ever when I first started college. Then I've been working in a bar for over 10 years. At all those jobs I worked my hardest I could.

Those are things you will never see. Your hands will never get dirty. You will never sweat in the summer heat, nor will you ever sweat it out when you have to float a check for bills all the while hoping that your paycheck clears first.

While I'm on the subject, this line has to go, as well as your butt..out the front door whenever you use it..."Do you KNOW who my (Mommy or Daddy) IS??"

First off..honestly no, I don't know who they are. Secondly, DO I FREGGIN CARE???? The shear fact that you are attempting to drop that line on someone just proves how much of a spoiled bitch you really are. Your parents may cater to your every need, but here's a rude awakening fun fact..the world doesn't my dear.

To think of all the potential you wasted on the world because of the way you are, instead of the way you could be. You could be a mentor, a provider for others. You could infinitely help others not as fortunate as you. Hell, you could just try being nice, civil and generally pleasant to be around. Instead you chose that way of life, with a tainted, tilted tiara on your head, mocking the peons below you, resorting to only hanging with people of your kind.That is why people will hate you, and chances are, the people around you are somehow using you for your stature or money instead of liking you for you.

There is only one thing worse that people like you...people who act like you when they have no money at all or come from no money. I've seen it first hand, intimately as well as in public. True false princesses...princesses of what? Nothing, that's what. The ballad of the $30,000 shoebox millionaire. That sickens me the worst. Get a clue before someone kicks you off your milk carton thrown and you shatter your K-Mart cubic zirconium tiara.

How about this...do you know who MY daddy is?

He's the guy who immigrated to this country with only the clothes on his back and a few hundred bucks in his pocket after leaving an island with his parents and 12 brothers and sisters behind, get whatever cash he could make working odd jobs and in steel mills to one by one, help the rest of his family immigrate here after buying his parents a home while he still lived in a apartment with his wife and newborn son. He's the guy walking around in his Mervyn's sale clothing that he's had for a few years, but it makes him comfortable. He's the guy that came from nothing, started with nothing, made everything but still acts like he has nothing, and THAT'S why you will never...

ever...

be as rich as him, or as you ever want to be.

If that makes people like us better than you, so be it, hope you enjoyed my slap of working middle upper class reality across your botoxed face. Now if you would excuse me, I'm not going to waste any more of my day off on bitching about you...

Collar poppers and Princesses..part 1 "CP"

Collar popping...or "CP" ing as the lovely metrosexuals call it, makes me retch. My god how gay are you?
Speaking of gay, being a "metrosexual" is the new gay. You are not this super-sensitive ultra converted "Emo" that saw the light and got fashionable but still kept yourself a sensitive male. You're gay.
It's just more widely acceptable now to be called "metro" than homo. Hey, I don't mind being sensitive...I cry when I have to put my dog down, when a close relative passes, I'm out of beer on a camping trip, I even tear up a bit when the national anthem plays at the super-bowl. Other than that, suck it the hell up and be a man. Just because you can dredge up some crocodile tears to try and score points in getting a girl to spread open her thighs doesn't make you any more acceptable in the heterosexual community. It makes you gay.
"CP"ing started coming around back in like '88. In fact, it was only "popped" for a few seconds by OG mutha fuggin hustlas who took offense to some poor broke ass punk that got in their face.
Instead, big wig fashion gurus took the collar as a fashion statement so that it became a preppy-frat boy movement.
It became socially "cool" to get on that striped Tommy shirt with the white collar popped, wearing those aviator glasses while driving down the main drag in your convertible BMW. (Which, no doubt, your ass got as a gimme from mommy and daddy on your 18th birthday because you didn't get accepted into Stanford.You no money earning scrub ass mo'fo.)
Well, we all thought that this style went by the wayside long ago, but as most fashion trends do, they make a retro comeback.
Now in Scottsdale and most of the Arizona State campus, "CP"ing is the trend to do. Frat boys, Preppies and "metros" all grouped into one lump sum. I know that you preps and fratties hate the homo clan, but guess what...you're in the same fashion group now...which is pretty close to hanging out with your arch-enemies, if not being one...in fact there may be one close to you right now...is he in your frat? No? Then he's probably thinking of your sweet virgin ass.
Seriously though, all you guys, no matter what you are or lifestyle you may live. I don't care about the clothes you wear. Your style, albeit, as personally disturbing and easy to mock as it is, is your choice. It's the attitude along with it that bothers me.
Just because Nelly does it, does it mean you are as cool as him? Or as rich? 99% of the time, no.
Once that collar gets popped, you are king of the world aren't you? Not that I'm saying I'm better than..., well...okay, I am better than you.
Trust me, the collar thing has to end soon. And when it does, after a given time, you lemmings will find another fashion to follow and realize that "popping" that collar was a pretty stupid idea. Until then, keep on CP'in, that way I know who to laugh at in public.