Monthly Archives: December 2006

Alamo-duh.

A few days ago, I saw a small packet of papers stuffed into my windshield wipers in my usual work parking place.  At first I was dismayed, the fucking meter maid/parking lot enforcers got confused and ticketed me.  Turns out, I was wrong, it seems a myth-loving nutcase was let loose in the parking field.  It was a newsletter, entitled, earthquake.  By a man named Tony Alamo.  Basically, its a scare the crap out of you until you see the light -fest. 

But here is where I found the ultimate in irony.  One car down from mine, there was a car with a bumper sticker always giggle at.  It states, “god is pro-life”.

They can’t possibly be talking about the judeo-christian god, there is no way.  What audacity, what blatant lies.  At least the muslims are honest about it, you ask them and they will tell you, “oh yeah, we love peace, uh huh, right, but you even blink the wrong way honkey, and allah will kick your lily white ass.”

Lets see what the ever brilliant Tony Alamo has to say about this, shall we?

“The false prophet licks the wounds of the frightened, sinful world, soothing the crowds by saying things such as, “it wasn’t God who caused this earthquake,” or “God would never kill all these ‘innocent people'”, when God admits it was Him that killed these ‘innocent people’, and states that He intends to kill and surely will kill hundreds of millions more of these ‘innocent people’.  God’s Holy Word clearly promises that God’s angels will “slay the third part of men.” (If that event would happen today, God, by just using four of His angels, would be killing at least two billion people with one stroke.  This will soon come to pass.)”

Here is another little gem from Mr. Alamo-dome,

“God is mankinds worst enemy.  The only way to prevail with God is to yield to Him, to comply with Him.  Satan is the next worst enemy.  He can be defeated only by resisting him with all of our might in Christ.”

(any tips on resisting God Mr. Alamo?  and why shouldn’t we just yield to the less dangerous one exactly? hrmm?)

Well, I suppose if we have to choose, you might want to go with the lesser of two evils eh?  In that case, being Satan??  Make sense man!

I don’t know about the rest of you, but that really doesn’t sound very “pro-life” to me.

And thats merely just Tony Alamos dumb-assery.  In other related biblical slaughters we have, sodom and gommorah, then there is the flood.  (kinda makes you think about those old bugs bunny cartoons when the big hand would come down with an eraser and start erasing parts of bugs to start fucking with him, eh, whats up god?)

And my personal favorite, King Saul asking god to let the sun stay out a little longer so that his army could slaughter the opposing army and their refugees down to the last man, woman and child.  Uh huh, pro-life.

But I don’t want this to be all negative, so lets end on a bright note, shall we?  Here it is, concrete proof that not only does god exist, but he realllly, realllly, likes Tony Alamo.

“Thursday, January 13, 1994, I was in Los Angeles for a court appearance.  Three days later, Sunday, January 16, 1994 , I was inspired again by the Lord to leave Los Angeles without delay.  (He had been inspired to move his ministry five months before, cough, tax breaks, cough, also, he never mentions why he had a court appearance, sketchy?? hmmm?)  I explained to everyone what I had heard.  We then packed and left in haste.  Everyone was disappointed because our original plans were to spend the afternoon at the sunny beach on Venice.  The weather report at our destination was icy rain and snow.  We travel by car and generally never stop, except for fuel and food, but this time I felt inspired to stop in Arizona for the night  (News flash, old folks get tired when they drive for hours Mr. Alamo, but I’m sure jesus put the whammy on ya).  We were shocked at what we were seeing.  God’s wisdom for our leaving Los Angeles was now fully known to us, and the reason for moving into a motel to watch what we were delivered from was now made known.  Everyone, including myself (oh, thats very big of you), was thankful to the Lord for having delivered us from that earthquake.”

I want to be Tony Alamo.  That way I can ride gods hand like a divine surfboard past all the bullshit on this planet.

Ever hear of luck, and tectonic plates Mr. Alamo?  I’m sure plenty of folks left LA right before the earthquake hit. 

My favorite is how he ends the pamphlet.

“Praise the Lord, May God reward you abundantly.”

Why would I expect a reward from mankinds worst enemy exactly?  And why would I trust that?  And finally, what the hell would be the point of a “reward”, since everything is going up in smoke reallll soon anyway?

Hail Xenu!  (oh wait, wrong boogeyman) 

Hail Satan!  (There we go).

 

Tools.

PETA = PUKA.

I had planned to rant and rave about the evil that is PETA today, but then I discovered something amazing.  There are many, many, who are just like me, and see through this bullshit, propaganda pushing bunch of nutcases as well.

www.peta-sucks.com

brilliant.

Anyway, I hope that all those PETA folks out there catch a deadly disease, and the only cure comes from ground up puppy livers.  And their families too, for good measure.  If you think their terrorist tactics are purely altruistic, then you have a lot of growing up to do.  PETA is a tool like any other extremist group.  They are fed information, and then used to cause havoc.  The “corporations” they claim to be battling know how to play them like the dumb fucking self-hating fiddles that they are.

I can imagine a group of fat fucking cigar smoking white men sitting around a board room table, recalling humorous memories, “Hey bill, remember that time we sent those videos of the chicken plucking to PETA?  Haha, our buddies over at KFC sure took some shit for that, that’ll teach those bastards to report our unlawful logging to that conservation group!”  Do any of you really think these “activists” do a fucking shit of good, for anyone, or anything?  Were I a puppy, I would bite their fucking useless ankles.

Fur is dead!  Not nearly as dead as your moral compasses, you fucking tools.  You want to put animals above humans?  Ok great, why don’t you just kill yourself and then maybe you can come back as your favorite furry little pal, and frolic about.  Because if the hindus are right, you certainly aren’t coming back the same way you left.  To save my child, I will personally suck the blood from every last chinchilla, every last whooping crane, every last fucking endangered piece of shit flying, crawling, and swimming creature.  Oh, how typical, right?

Thats fucking right, I am a living creature on this planet too, and if those fucking bald eagles knew that snuffing a few humans would save some more chicks, loggers in the midwest would be dropping like flies.  The audacity of these fucking “activists” to assume that we are so much higher, and better than these animals, that we should not kill them, and eat them, and find better ways to live through them.  There is a term in biology that describes what I just stated, I think they call it, evolution.

So, in essence, were it up to PETA, we would never have started wearing animal skins to stay warm and survive a bit longer, we would have never developed techniques for raising and domesticating creatures for food and warmth, basically, civilization as we know it, would have come to a complete standstill, and we would most likely be extinct.  Ok, thats fine with me.  So all PETA subscribers, stop driving cars, stop using your ipods, and stop using the fruits of human progress altogether.  There was a ton of animal “cruelty” involved in the evolutionary process, so go back to scrabbling naked in a wild berry bush somewhere, because that is what your ancestors would have been doing were they stupid enough to believe what you do.

Oh, and while you are at it, perhaps you should send a delegation to yellowstone park, because even though most bears are omnivorous, they do prefer some good ol meat when they can get it, oh how cruel, they need a good talking to, preferably at close range, you can whisper all the secrets of good berry hunting.

So, to the president, and vice president of PETA, and all those awful, truly cruel people that spend their time supporting these lying terrorists, and enemies of humanity.  May your beautiful precious child desperately need a cure for a disease that involves animal testing.  Oh, and for those of you who believe in synthetic cures and vaccines, once again, you have years and years of painstaking animal testing to thank for that too.  It would not have been possible without the millions of dead little furries, so, go ahead, be a hypocrite and think that synthetics are a better alternative.

And finally, one last point.

Plant life, is life.  It may not curl up at your feet, it may not have soft fluffy fur, and it may not whimper when it is damaged.  But it lives, and it reproduces, and it fights for its life.  (Ever see two trees intertwined, doesn’t that look pretty?  Guess what?  They are fighting for the sunlight, and one will eventually smother the other one, granting it the right to make more seeds, and therefore, the better tree gets a better shot at reproduction, just because it happens over decades, doesn’t make it any less of a struggle to survive).

We are all fucking “murderers”.  Get over yourselves, you selective motherfuckers.  Self-righteous pieces of shit.  Every time I see celebrity anti-fur ads, I feel like dressing like huggie bear and walking around.  Nice oversized fur and a pimp hat, fur-lined of course.

My father had an interesting life.  He spent time jumping from ship to ship in the sixties, fleeing facist spain.  He ended up guarding a white area in apartheid south africa, he traded rum with kalahari tribesfolk, basically, he ended up doing what he had to in order to stay on the run.  On one occasion, he ended up on a ship that would stop and club baby seals for profit.  Like on every other ship, he was pressed into service, and he did what he had to.

He reluctantly told me tales of how vicious those little bastards could be, but he was lucky and managed to escape injury.  I always thought that was not a very nice thing to have to do, but given the circumstances he was faced with, he did what he had to, but now, well, after reading and watching these disgraces to humanity push their pablum, I have changed my opinion.

I’m proud of you dad.

Go to hell PETA, may you all die terrible and ironic deaths at the hands of your furry compatriots.

I am an animal too, which gives me every right to kill, and eat what was killed.

Hear me roar.

Update

That’s right.  I’m listening to a remix of the Brokeback Mountain theme, and it’s really fucking good.  Paul van Dyke.  It really is quite good.

 

So, I haven’t written much in the past few days.  Well, holidays are coming up, which makes me sluggish and depressed, not to mention that I have been swamped with work.  It’s funny, I say swamped with work, you think menial tasks,like papers, or business.  Meanwhile, I had an eyeball put out by a fork, cancer, and a host of other medical issues that would make most of you puke or laugh.  Add to the fact that I have been feeling like my nose was a broken faucet, and my throat were a cheese grater.  All of this adds up to a miserable, unproductive tobas.

I have a story to tell, several in fact, and I will tell them.

Soon. 

 

Addict.

I wrote this poem many years ago, on the subject of addiction.  More than anything else, that loss of control frightens me to no end, which is why I often get so angry at addicts that I personally know, because they personify what I fear the most.

This is for you guys, who lost the handle.

 

Addiction.

 

Ever hungry, ate my fill,

Always thirsty, drank a gallon,

Ever horny, fucked all night,

Always betting, up a grand,

Ever fiending, just got high,

Always drunk, but I worked all week,

Just one lap dance, one last shot,

Lucky sevens, coming up!

Tie me man, one last hit,

I won’t get aids, that’s faggot shit,

Just one more,

And more,

Then more,

It’s never enough,

I need it always, it tucks me in,

Wipes my chin, dries my eyes,

It never asks why,

And for a moment, I touch the sky,

It lets me down, but it catches me at the bottom,

Rough hands shove me back up,

Tough love, it says,

Up you go, but you’ll be back,

And I’ll be waiting,

Forever.

?

Game. Set.

“40 love” 

 

Oh my dear, you make me hurt,
And I can’t tell which one hurts worse,
Holding me hostage with your invisible gun,
Must be fun,

Find that spot and squeeze, oh baby,
Make me beg you please my baby,
The cards are yours when you hold that gun,
Must be fun,

I will wait as long as I have to,
Patience brings a thicker hide,
Soon that lead will not go through,
The shell of my enormous pride,

So put that gun away, put that weapon down,
Do you hear that sound?
It’s the scraping of my knees,
It’s me standing on my feet,
Looking down now,
At you instead,
Laughing when you turn it on your head,

So long baby,
So long they seem,
Days of lacking self-esteem,
But I’m too strong to abide here,
Your very worst fear,

When I rise up and make myself,
And you get put back on the shelf,
All alone now,
And I wont say I saw it coming,
And I wont say, I saw right through,
I will try to swallow my tongue,
A life well lived is better food,

Once before I tried to save you,
Once again I did the same,
Twice it seemed you turned a deaf ear,
My condolences on your shame,

I cared enough to see, you know,
Shame you left me for a sumo,
Spread the salt, bless the ring,
Never mind the awful sting,
My god, oh god,
What a terrible loss,

I sure hope you feel that toss,

I will not die because you want me to,
I will not go where you want me to,
Righteous life is where I’m headed,
Turn to someone you never knew,

What did you think was going to happen?
Fairy tales of sick betrayal?
What did you think was going to happen baby?
You could live because you say so?

 And I will never try to forget,
And I will keep this close to me,
And I will win the final set,
Count the days and you will see.

Redemption man.

Tobas circa 2004.

 

This tale begins at the end of 2004.  I was still married, and I was about to go through one of the hardest years of my life.  At my job, we had a new guy come in as our assistant manager.  He was quite large, and quite black.  When I say large, I mean it in the stocky sense, as he was not much taller than I was.  And he was not fat either, its safe to say he looked like Micheal Clarke Duncan, but about a foot shorter.

He was somewhat nice, yet he went about his business in a military fashion, despite not being a military man.  Often he would state regular phrases in such a way, that even asking you to do something simple seemed like a rude remark.  Myself and the ladies I worked with often wondered what his poor wife must be subjected to.  He made comments about her weight, appearance, and sometimes he did so to the girls at work too.  I could tell he was trying to be “one of the girls” by commenting on fashion faux pas and split ends, but it generally came across as prying and obnoxious.  Now it might seem that I am painting a grim picture here, but it wasn’t always quite so bad as all that.

As time went on, we began to talk, him and I.  By this time I was having major difficulties of my own, and we began to share war stories.  I thought mine were bad, and the truth is, well, mine were worse.  But not only did he give me a run for my money, he added his critical barbs often aimed at his wife.  In short, I would imagine it was not very fun being married to him. 

He had two boys as well, and in that department, he put me to shame.  He was the athletics coach, he was on the parent council, he picked them up from school, and pretty much ran the show, he was quite possibly one of the most involved parents I have ever seen.

He brought his wife to several events we had.  She was a pretty woman, a little on the heavy side, but nothing close to making her unattractive.  We spoke on several occasions, and she came across as sweet, and shy.  In truth, I felt a little bad for her.

Eventually he was promoted to a different position, and I saw him rather infrequently.

Over the summer, one of the girls I work with told me that he was getting separated.  I was immediately saddened to hear this, knowing the price he would have to pay as a father.  I felt like calling him, and saying, ‘look, just get your shit straight, work it out, go to therapy, it is not worth it, stop acting like a dick.”  But I did not.

Months went by, and the other day, the same girl tells me, ‘hey, did you hear what happened with such and such’?  I say no, thinking the worst, and then she goes on to tell me, ‘he worked it out with his wife’.  I was relieved, and I was very happy for him.  In a way, I was glad to write this now, because last night at the christmas party, I talked to him about it.

He told me how hard it was for him.  I completely understood, but then he went on to tell me that he was a damn fool, and that he made a mistake.  He told his wife he was ready to move on with someone else, which apparently he was, but it did not work out so well.  She then found someone too, which he didn’t seem all too upset about.  But almost half a year in, he couldn’t take it anymore, and he knew he had made a huge mistake.  I felt his pain, I knew it must have been killing him to be away from those kids of his.  He pretty much admitted the same to me, and then told me how he sat them down and explained how he had been selfish, and how sorry he was to them. 

He went back to his wife, and he begged her forgiveness.  She was already seeing someone else at this point, he knew.  She thought about it for several days, and finally came back to him and gave her answer.  He told me she said she forgives him, but a big part of it has to do with how great of a father he is, and the fact that she is still his wife, and a promise is a promise.  She then told him that that better be as bad as ‘for worse’ gets, because next time, it would be death ending it.  I was amazed.

Now there, is a quality human being.  I turned to him and told him, do not ever take that shit for granted, ever.  Everyone makes mistakes, when you find someone with the capacity to forgive like that, and the honor and dignity to live up to their vows no matter how hard it gets, and enough love for their children to recognize anything is worth their happiness, you grab them and never ever ever let them go.  The irony is, you often dont find out how incredible a person can be until you do something really, really stupid.  Therefore hurting them so badly in the process.

He got his boys back, and he looked me straight in the eyes and told me that he was like a whole other person.  And I believed him, because he loved those kids so much, and I know that would have been me too.

It made me so happy, and yet so sad.

What a sweet, loyal, wonderful woman, I wanted to hug her, honestly.

 

For you.

I am so pleased that I am home, and that I will not be disturbed tomorrow, that I have decided to write about it.

It is not late, not at all.

Yet, I am here, full of joy, in bed, knowing that I will sleep, and sleep, and sleep.

Nothing else seems as good to me, as that. 

Really and truly, I am very concerned about my future, I think about how things will turn out all the time.  But, I have decided, as well as I will do in other aspects of my life, as many literal triumphs as I will crow, as many accolades as I will accumulate,

None will hardly be as satisfactory, as the thank you, from my two boys, when they realize, that I never wanted anything more, than to be with them. 

I hope I can convey to them, just how much I wanted to be there for them, just how much I loved them, just how much I gave to be with their mommy, just how much I sacrificed to try and make a life that would give them the stability they deserved. 

I gave everything, and I was willing to give more.  When they are old enough to understand, I will make it my lifes mission that they know daddy was willing to do anything for them.

I was selfish once, and I repented quickly.  I will spend forever letting them know that I would never do that again.  I will apologize for their selfish other parent, and hope that they forgive me for not letting them have the regular childhood they had a right to have.

I tried guys.  I write this all for you.  I want you to know one day, that all of those nights, you were sick, and you were alone, and you just wanted your daddy to come and make it all better, I felt every bit of pain, so much more.

I hope so much when you both are big, that you understand, that daddy was not the best man, but he was willing to try to be, for your sakes, and he was not allowed.  I hope you can read this and know that everytime I talked to you on the phone I was wishing I was next to you, hugging you.  I hope you can feel how hard it was for me, to love you more than anything, and to want to tuck you in at night, and not be able to.  I hope you know that you were everything to me, you always were, and you always will be, and that is why I was so willing to find a way to make a life with mommy,  not just because of her, but because of what I made with her.

I write this because one day you will read this, and you will know that I wanted that more than anything.

My happiness was always what was best for you, and I will always be sorry that I didn’t make you with someone who felt the same.

There will come a time when I can make it up to you, all of this, and I hope it is not too late.

One day, you will both be with me.  I know this.  I am a good parent, and I have shown this, and time will prove this as well. 

Boys, daddy made a mistake, but I will fix it.  I love you, and this is why I write anything, so one day, you can see.

Please forgive me.

Fury.

Whew.  I had planned on telling the story of what happened to the guy I worked with, but I am so disgusted at the moment, that I may have to hold off on that tale.  Mainly because it is about decency and loyalty, which unfortunately, I am unfamiliar with.

 

Ho, ho, hoes
Merry Christmas little chil’rens,
Papa papi has gifts to give!

Lil’ balls to sink and play,
Lil’ gats to load today,
Many toys to make daddy angry,
Lil’ portions keep me hungry,

I don’t care, what happens to you,
No daddy, but thats what lil’ mami calls me,
I’ll just be here ’til I’m through,

I have no pride, no dignity,
Take something so precious,
For me,

Steal two lives, with my accomplice,
She should know better,
Let’s be irresponsible together,

Funny thing that is,
You were wondering what we had in common,
Lil’ white and grotesque brown,

But there it is, in plain sight,
Not giving a flying fuck,
Who goes down.

 

Oh, do I sound bitter?  It’s unhealthy isn’t it?

Fuck anyone that thinks that,

The only thing that is unhealthy is a loving father denied a life with his children, this is a fucking disgrace.

?

Quick stuff.

Lots of things to write, almost no time to write them, hopefully tomorrow there will be plenty of things to scoff at on here!

In the meantime, bookmark me at del.icio.us, I know registering is annoying, but it really does help quite a bit.

 Thank ya, thank ya.

 

I wonder if the radiochick will actually look at my stuff…

 

that would be fucking sweet.