Tuesday, September 27, 2005

Yowza. What An Angry Bastard I Was

I was sitting here diggin' on this cold, slippery twelve pack of mass-brewed beer and looking back through the archives of this thing to see what exactly I could write about Rudy Jones that I haven't already, and came up with this post. The gist:

Get Your Own Blog

I can't say that I love you, kids. At least some of you. I can't say that I care too much about you, either--not because I feel like I'm some sort of blogstar or whatever, but just because I've emptied out my compassion and patience reservoirs over the last few months, for good and bad reasons...but really, sirs and ladies, what the fucking holy Jesus Christ on a stick do I owe any of you, at least w/r/t this blog? Not a damn thing, other than my own self imposed madness concerning telling you stories about my own life.

So, to get to the specifics, fuck you. Fuck you, you idiots that can't imagine anything beyond your next paycheck. Fuck you, you bitches who can't understand anything beyond the driving of an SUV from work, to Wal Mart, and home. Fuck you, you dipshits who don't understand that it's only yours inasmuch as you bought it and there are more important ties in the real world than a goddamn bill of sale, or treaty. There are things that supersede pens and paper and the agreements that treacherous bastards in Washington think are best. It's nothing==The feel of earth in your hands, the feeling of having dirt on your hands, and knowing it's your soil, your land, your life....

The IRA. Steinbeck, and anarchists and labor organizers and the motherfuckerst that truly understand what it takes to live a life on this planet, a life without getting kicked in the face by The Man, a life without getting bled dry by some asshole on welfare...

OK, I can ramble for days about what is good....but I've got someone already here to help load, and I've got another surprise visitor who doesn't know he's being suckered into helping load, so I must go and snaggle my snares. Extra good, since I've now found a second G and T that needed to be made.


Sigh...ah well, I don't know who's still checking this thing now, but I'm sure you've been disappointed recently. There's more in there, but...well, the stuff on the top is just excuses, and you've got to have a prybar and a snorkel, or be willing to sleep with me, to get at much of what's below that recently.

Perhaps it's becoming all drab and mundane--perhaps I should start lying, or rather, introducing some fiction into things. But you know me now, so I'd have to surreptitiously start another one, and develop a following over THERE (which I'm not sure the writing would be enough to pull...).

Shit. Well, I can't seem to find ANY of the RQJIII stuff, so I'm going to let this post do for now, and think about something easy. I think I have a couple that I can edit and throw up real quick...

4 Comments:

At 6:14 AM , Blogger Muskrat Love said...

Willing to sleep with you, eh? Looks like I'm okay.

 
At 6:47 AM , Blogger Beardking said...

Man, I miss the good ol' days when I could get mentioned in your blog for some evil comment that I made. :-) I remember the post, but can't quite remember the comments, but I'm sure they deserved the response.

 
At 6:59 AM , Blogger Jefe said...

We'll call it "the Muskrat Exception," and figure out how to apply it to this blog...

 
At 2:44 PM , Blogger k8 said...

hmmm....i've found that in general a willingness to sleep with someone (you only fit in a general sense since i've only ever seen you in a bunny suit) is inversely proportional to how easy it is to get past excuses.

but i may just be bitter and excuse laden myself right now.

 

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