Sunday, April 30, 2017

Do NOT Let Jesus Take The Wheel

First off, driving in sandals is dangerous. Second, I don't think Jesus would be allowed in the country under the current administration (Just getting my slam of the CockSmoker In Chief out of the way early on).

This Wednesday morning, I endured my third worst driving experience. It was the shortest of the top three, but no less taxing.

This last week, Monday through Thursday, I had to attend training. I will not get into specific locations (see reference below), but it amounted to my normal 1.5 mile, on suburban streets, commute being extended into a 39.4 mile, multiple interstate, 6 lane superhighway commute.

I have lived/driven in the DFW metroplex going on 20 years now. 20 years this September, come to think of it. I have faced the unrelenting hell of a daily commute into downtown Dallas from Arlington... WITH my second wife in the SAME car with me... GOOD TIMES!

For the last 4 years, I have been incredibly spoiled with my commute of about 8000 feet. So, I was not looking forward to the inevitable suck that was forthcoming.

When I get in the shower, I turn on the radio. I can time my routine pretty closely by knowing what the DJs are doing. "Okay, I should be getting out of the shower and drying off when they come back from this commercial break."

For the first time in almost a decade, I had to remember to listen to the traffic report.

The training started at 8:30 AM. I left my home at 7:00 AM. To go less than forty miles, I allotted ninety minutes. I knew that about seven of those miles would be side streets... stop lights... school buses...

I get to the highway, and... I am booking... I arrive at the building in DeSoto at 7:45. The initial thought of... "I am the world's greatest driver" did, in fact, pass through the head more than once.

The trip home... Bah-reeeeeez. The fears and hesitations vanquished.

Tuesday morning, I leave my house at ten after seven.... I arrive to the class with about 2 minutes to spare. Wreck on the highway... I am not a fan of a single digit miles per hour. I could feel my brain dusting off the tome of vulgarities reserved for being stuck in traffic..

"Oh, you want over now, you cock smoking, monkey fucking, shit heel?"

"Go suck a dead dog's ass, ya Beamer drivin' Beeeeyotch"

"I swear to all that is fucking holy AND fucking unholy, there better be a severed head up there."

Just truly vile shit.

Tuesday's trip home... Bah-reeeeeez.

Then came Wednesday morning.

There were storms moving through. I listened to the traffic report before I left, warnings to watch yourself, but no accidents mentioned for the roads I would be travelling. The DJs mentioned a lull (I have discovered I think this word sucks. "Lull".) between storm fronts... Well, I better get on the road...

I leave about 7:05. The side streets to the highways were not ideal, but no one was being too much of an asshat. I almost get to the highway, I am five cars from the light... I see the other street of the intersection's cars going... and going... and going... "Why in the name of St. Fuckery are we not moving?!?!?!?!?"..... Ah... Train... Damn train... Damn, dirty, rotten, stinking train.

When I FINALLY get to the highway, I am pleasantly surprised by the cadence and just flat out "respect" the motorists are giving each other... Decent spacing... People actually using turn signals for lane changes... Craziness! My guts, thus far clenched in worry began to ease up... I was coming up on the I 20, 635 merge south of Mesquite.

And then...

Within thirty seconds, it got dark. Not "morning" dark. Not "night" dark... No, no... "End of the world, all happiness is gone" dark.

And then...

The skies opened up like a woman if you play Otis Redding's "These Arms Of Mine" at the right time.

I have driven in some rain storms, really torrential ones... but nothing like this. My windshield wipers were glorified, synced metronomes. Good for nothing but keeping a beat. I could not see anything worth classifying out the back window.

I had moved over to the far left lane... ONLY because I could make out the yellow line of the shoulder. So... focus on the yellow... back to the road... no brake lights... back to yellow...

Whilst literally craning my neck forward trying to make out "Shapes"... Lightning flashes about 50 yards off the highway... So, it's dark and now my vision is fucked... like our nation's credibility with other nations level of fucked...

So... Back to the yellow... Is that semi? Nah... Okay that is a fucking semi... back to yellow...no brake lights... *tink*... back to yellow.... *Tink*... ?.... Yellow...

And then...

Hail. Dime sized mostly, some quarter sized. I have a low slung car. It is not "cavernous". When it hails in some cars... You hear it, and you wince but there is a "separation"... In my car, it was like I was wearing a football helmet, running around and getting hailed on (Sadly, I have done this... so I know of what I speak and have an actual basis of comparison.).

This shit show lasted about 10 minutes... To me... It probably actually lasted closer to 3 or 4.

Apparently, the train delay allowed the next line of storms just enough time to catch up with my route.

There were a couple cars that had spun off into the grass, then one full on wreck in the left lane for the rest of my journey. Mother Nature eased up from her bitch-fit and I took the time to peel my fingers out of their death grip on my steering wheel...

I made it to the campus with EIGHT minutes to spare, and no rain falling. The day had resumed just being overcast-cloudy vs. "Apocalypse Like" cloudy.

At least the class had donuts.
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The boss texted... Asked if I made it... My reply was calm and measured. It was also the third revision that ended up being sent. I figured it was not her fault, so, she did not deserve the tirade and artillery barrage of f-bombs.

No damage that can be seen to the car... Thankful as all hell on that note.

I am kind of glad this happened. I had come to take my commute for granted. I have gained a new appreciation for my happy little jaunt. 

Friday morning's commute to work was 4 minutes, 25 seconds. Stupid goddamn school zonNo!!! Stop it... Just stop...

Faster than the speed of life,

d

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Sunday, April 16, 2017

Squeezed, Spanked, and Screaming

Today, being Easter, and given last weeks topic, I will talk about Easter a little, and something we all have experienced but not one of us remembers... Birth. Sorta bookend the whole "life" thingy. Last week was "Point B", today is "Point A".

This will not be a long blog. I am not a fan of birth. This planet is a tad crowded as is. I have heard that at our current rate of consumption, we would need 57 more Earths to sustain the population. Since we do not have more Earths, we can only control one part of that equation. I might get more into that next weekend as Saturday is the last Earth Day... Pretty sure it will be outlawed by the current administration.

I know that there are emotions I missed out on because I did not spread my seed. I have heard more than one parent croon about how once their child looked up at them, how "Everything changed."

Yeah. Everything like: Finances - Do you know how much they cost? Holy Shitballs!

Freedom - "No, we don't have a sitter, so go enjoy that once in a lifetime concert/event/something awesome."

Sleep schedules - Show me new parents and I will show you people who would murder for sleep.

Watching/Listening to anything at a decent volume - Once the monster is asleep, you DO NOT WAKE THE MONSTER.

Sex with your significant other - There IS the recovery period. Then, apparently, kids are blessed with a natural cock-blocking type radar. "We are go for penetration in t-minus 4. 3. 2..." "WAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!"

Your relationship with your significant other - Some people tend to focus on their kids rather than their spouse, whom they hopefully have known a bit longer period of time. I call people who do that "Future Single Parents".

And what do you get? For the first two years or so, your only job is making sure the creation does not get broken. No return policy and all that. The warranty on those things sucks as well. 

After that, a contest of wills for, oh, say, the next sixteen years. I was at a severe disadvantage in that department. My parents are (NOTE: NOT PAST TENSE!) a united front. One on one was an almost impossible proposition and an exploitable opportunity rarely presented.

Also, during those formative years, there will be a period where YOU, THE PARENT, THE PROVIDER OF ALL THEY POSSESS, THE SHELTER-ER, THE VERY HAND THAT FEEDS, will be viewed as an enemy, as you "ruin their life!".

I am not the type to let shit go, like being told, nay, having "I HATE YOU!" screamed at me. If that were to happen a couple times a year, I can totally see me buying a varying array of different sized boxes in December. I would wrap each and every one of those boxes - and do so beautifully.

I would start filming as my offspring tore into each gift... only to find each box has a single piece of paper with "I hate you", and the calendar date it was verbally spewed at me, written on it. As the sobbing commenced, I would keep filming, and make them open each and every one.

Yes, I would put differing amounts of rocks or weight in the last couple of boxes... Ya know... Give em hope.

If I were to have a child, I am pretty sure that they would inherit all my worst characteristics... They would be an obnoxious, manipulative, little shit. It would have my own parents aligned against my by the time it was out of diapers.

So, it is probably a good thing I never had a kid... Sorry, Mom.

In the end, that is what is Easter is about... Birth/Rebirth. Bunnies are known for a couple of things... Voracious desire to propagate their species among them. Eggs as a symbol? Little heavy handed on the symbolism, wouldn't you say?

As many religions are quick to remind, "Go forth and get pro-creatin'!!!" I won't bore you with the details of how Easter is yet ANOTHER pagan holiday, from the way back, co-opted by the Carpenter Cult in order to be the "cool religion". That and sell chocolate. (But will provide the link!)

I do have good memories of Easter... Mom and Dad would hide plastic eggs with little clues in them that led to the next egg until the end, where a token/gift was waiting. This went on until I got older... I can now understand the hypocrisy of receiving Metallica's "Creeping Death" EP as a present on Easter... 


_____________________________

Another reason I am just not that interested in Easter as a holiday... You get ZERO days off from work. It is always on a Sunday, so - BUPKISS! When Xmas is on a Sunday, I usually get the Friday before AND the Monday after off of work. Easter... NADA!

Lastly, something to trip on... I am a big believer in reincarnation, having met the same asshole twice. Now... people have said that when they feel they are dying, they see a tunnel of light... and all their relatives...

WHAT IF... 

That tunnel with a light at the end is the opening of your new Mom's birthing canal as you are being born... As oxygen hits your newly "infantized" brain, it causes a memory dump... Like a hard disc in your computer being overwritten and formatted. Wiped clean... As it does this, it causes memories to flash by... Like your whole life, flashing before your eyes...

OOH... It could be your SAME Mom's vag... Like we are just on a repetitive cycle... A Life Cycle version of "Groundhog's Day"... Doing the same life over until we get it right. Woah... Deja Vu explained... Trippy... 

Now we run,

d

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Sunday, April 9, 2017

Larger Than Life

A friend's mother died rather recently. I never met the woman. I do know she had a profound impact on this guy's life. 

I was out at Scarby with a mutual friend, who has known the bereaved umpteen billion times longer than me. He was visibly shaken. Taken aback. Hell, he poured out his mead because he knew he had to go.

My friend remarked on how his mother counted the departed as one of her closest friends. I think this also compounded the sense of loss. The dawning knowledge that he would probably have to tell his Mom that her friend had passed.

It was a long drive home. My head was awash of thoughts of the final curtain that awaits us all.

When it comes to the topic of death, I speak directly from zero experience. Yes, I did knock on my wooden desktop. I am not good at condolences. I can say the phrase, "I am sorry for your loss." and it be truly sincere. I do not like to see my friends in pain. I am not even a fan of seeing strangers hurting.

I can say that there are three deaths at the moment that will absolutely demolish me. I mean, to the point of, "Dougie has checked out with no return date, press '1' to leave a message."

There are about 10 to 12 deaths that will jack me up and make me take off time from work. I will soldier through the grief, but will need a moment...

The ONE funeral I attended (again with the knocking of wood) was for X2's grandmother. She had battled lung disease and been on oxygen for a good while, and when she finally succumb, it was seen almost as a relief.

An old boss came in on a Monday once, looking just beat. "Jeez, Man... Weekends are supposed to be regenerative, or so I have heard."

"Man, I have an uncle, great guy, been sick for years... Last three Fridays, we get the call, 'Hey, he is not doing so good... You should prolly head out to say your good-byes.'. So... we pack up the truck and my wife, daughter, and I make the three hour drive west. By Saturday, he is on the mend, Sunday, he is wondering what we all are doing hanging around."

"And you feel bad because you are feeling kinda 'teased'?"

"I DO feel like shit for it... but YES!!!."

My Dad told me that at his mother's funeral, people were really trying to say nice things about her. The clergy said something along the lines of "I have never felt closer to Vivian than I do now."

On the long journey home from Scarby last night, I thought about my own parent's mortality. It is not a pleasant thought, but one my Mom has always said, "You don't really have a choice, kid."

Dad was always more... "technical"... "On a long enough timeline, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero." He told me that shit long before I read it in "Fight Club" (Which is another reason I think you should watch it sometime, Dad).

I don't know the exact plans my folks have. Last they told me, it was cremation. Mom has declared  (stone cold sober I tells ya), that the first one to "go" is cremated. The second one, upon not living, will be cremated, and then... Their ashes are to be added to same urn housing their spouses ashes. 

Then Moms will get a wicked grin and say, "Every once and a while, shake the urn up... That's us... getting frisky!"

Went from "Awww" to "Ugghhh" real fucking quick.

I was speaking to a friend the other night... About what I had in my will. Mind you this was drawn up before I went to Turkey, so... October of 1995. I was a tad bit less... "conscious of social graces". I was an obnoxious little shit.

It was stipulated that if you wanted to say a few words, you had to do a shot of tequila before being allowed to speak. Putting the "Fun" back in funeral!!!

So, the other night... I had an epiphany... drunken, but still an epiphany... I told my friend, that when I cease to be, I wish to be cremated and my ashes be infused with some silicone or latex or plasticized jelly, and then be molded into a vibrator. Then, after the "curing" process (I don't know?, I have yet to see the documentary on how vibrators are made. "Yet" being the operative word...) the vibrator can be presented to my significant other. 

My friend called me "ridiculous"... She was laughing her ass off though.

There are kits available now, to mold an adult toy based on a man's apparatus.

So, if I were to include a provision to do such a thing, I would stipulate in my final will and testament, that I would like my... um... "dimensions" increased by 20%.

Read the title again... It's how I want to be remembered!
_______________________________

Shitty joke aside... I face death just like I face anything else that troubles me and makes me not know how to react.

I make jokes. I got to laugh. Otherwise, the whole ugliness of the world would cripple me. I am getting better at knowing when it will do more good than harm to throw out a joke though. 

To my friend who lost his mother, I have no words. I can't speak as to how I feel about it because it would make me do just that. Think about the loss of my Mom. And sorry, man... I can't... and I just don't want to. 

I will let someone wiser than me sum it up...

"Death is a natural part of life. Rejoice for those around you who transform into the Force. Mourn them do not. Miss them do not. Attachment leads to jealously. The shadow of greed, that is."

However, the guy Yoda said that to, went on to be a colossal dick. But ya get what he was layin' down.

I hope this blog made the topic a little less dark. I hope the next time you hear the words "funeral" or "death", or see a vibrator... You think of this blog and laugh a little bit. You're welcome?

SEND IN THE NUNS, 

d

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Sunday, April 2, 2017

The Road To Golgatha

I was up early into this morning. Got to bed around 2 AM. At my "advanced age", if I find myself up at 2 AM, there is usually glittered boobies involved, belonging to a single mother, putting herself through school.

This time, I was talking to someone who, for all intents and purposes, is a Republican. We were discussing a wide array of topics*.

I am completely aware that the blame is totally on me. I should know better than to try and reason with certain types. It will just lead to frustration.

The only reason I can figure I entertained and allowed the delusions to permeate my head space, was for "exposure". All of my friends on Facebook, and those in the real world, that I hold any conversations with, that I would deem intelligent, share my point of view on a great many things.

If I am not challenged, never hearing a differing point of view, that mental edge can get dulled.

That being said, the conversation had all the greatest hits. Classic "pivot" maneuvers. Blaming others for something unrelated, or just avoiding topics all together.

"45 straight up lied about..."

"Obama lied all the time..."

"No No. I started the sentence, I DO have a finish for it..." (Mad props to Larry Miller for that one.)

During the verbal sparring, I was exposed to a new one... "MAGA!" Which is short for "Make America Great Again". At this point, I admit, I turned the volume waaaaaay down on the rhetoric. First off, leave it to the right to shorten a slogan. I mean... C'Mon... When hats and bumper stickers are just TOO taxing... All them thar words!

Throughout the conversation, one or two salient points were given to the other side. We agreed that it is sad there is such a division. That the divisiveness has reached the level that it has.

That was about it.

Climate change... "Are the regulations worth the killing of jobs???"

45... "That is the result of good, decent folks feeling left out of D.C."

Taxes... "Too high and why should we, as free and independent people need to pay for other people?"

As to the first point, let me be crystal clear. FUCKING RIGHT THEY ARE.

Many publications this very week were quick to point out that there are more people employed at Arby's than in the coal industry. Rounding up, the number of people in the coal mining industry is 77,000.

So, if enacting a regulation that can possibly slow down the DEATH OF OUR PLANET, cause harm to an already dying industry, then I will be in favor of it. If need be, I will help minors learn how to ask if a customer wants "Regular" or "Curly" fries.

This person lives in Florida, and I am sad I forgot to ask if they have started saving for a houseboat yet, ya know... because Florida is heading underwater... Opportunity MISSED!!!

This is another example of how short sighted and myopic the administration is.

I could go on and on, citing example after example of the hypocrisy and out right lies perpetrated by 45 and his Ministry of Propaganda crew.

If the President Of The Unites States of America, opens his mouth, and words come out... I automatically believe the exact opposite of what he just said.

"I never said that!"

It takes, on average, 32 seconds to find a clip of Cheeto Boy saying EXACTLY what he just claimed he didn't say. Other people who type fast and have a lot more time on their hands can probably break the 25 second barrier.

Michael Flynn, the DISGRACED general, who was forced out resigned (only when the FBI informed him that they had TRANSCRIPTS!), is going to ask for immunity in exchange for his testifying.

32 seconds of searching later...  

Hey, does anyone remember back in September, on "Meet The Press" when Flynn said, "When you are given immunity that mean you've probably committed a crime."

The very next day, the future Sexual Assaulter in Chief quipped, "If you're not guilty of a crime, what do you need immunity for?"

How do those people, who felt they had no voice, feel things have changed in ol' D.C.??? You could always ask Conway, or Melissa McCarthy impersonator Sean Spicer, if you want NO answer to that or any other question.

Conway has been a little secluded since she was busted plugging Ivanka's clothing line, and sitting on the couch in the Oval Office like she was at a sleepover in Jr. High.

On the issue of taxes, there will never be any negotiations. I , being a human being, don't want my tax payer dollars going to buy tanks that the Army does not want. The other side is not a fan of subsidizing an artist pissing on a crucifix and calling it "art".

I find this laughable as all hell, because while we argue over those aspects, the top 1% receive the largest tax breaks. Meanwhile, Meals on Wheels "doesn't work".

In the end, I found things puzzling. I learned absolutely nothing except that the administration, and the propaganda arm of the GOP has firmly made any reporting of facts to be questioned or outright dismissed.

"Do you believe everything you read on those news sites???"

My only counter would be, "Would you, if it was complimentary to the Glorious Leader?"

"People are so closed minded. Not giving the guy a chance."

Um... If you opened your front door and saw a Golgothan Shit Demon walking up to you... Would you close the door or let it walk right on in?

Gosh... so close minded. But reminds me of a joke...

A demonic pile of animated human excrement, a duplicitous, assaulter of woman, who conned his way into the White House, and a crooked, nepotistic, thrice divorced, "Businessman" (with numerous bankrupt businesses) walk into an empty bar...surrounded by the presidential secret service detail.

The bartender says, "What'll be, Mr. President?"
___________________________________

Yes... It was a woman I was talking to. Only reason the conversation went on as long as it did.

No... There is no attraction there (Now...). And honestly... I don't give a shit how hot a woman is, when I think of women supporting Trump, my mind conjures some vivid, dark shit. I mean, he is already fucking everyone over... Then they support him and it is like "consent"... Just ewwwww... No sloppy seconds for me, thanks, 

Support of something as ugly as this administration, in my minds eye makes a person just as ugly. And that is sad... I can handle being sad, I could not handle being as scared as those people are.

Thorn in my pride, 

d

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* - To be fair, this is my accounting of the affair, so there is some paraphrasing... But not to the point that I feel bad about publishing.