That Does Not Smell Good...At All

I was thinking about culture while I was watching TV. It dawned on me that our current pop culture is the biggest piece of dog-shit ever served. I remember the 80s well, it seemed okay, Don Mattingly was my God, so was Larry Bird, New York Giants, Michael Jordan, Mr. T and his cartoon buddies. A lot of people hate the 80s, as if it sucked, wrong, they rocked...just with keyboards and drum machines. The 90s was a beast of a different nature, but still kind of cool all the same. 2000s was the beginning of the fall. Now we are in 2010, a new decade...of total big mac crap. I think we (Americans) are dumb as ever, gone is the fortitude and integrity. I know some do the best they can, but stupidity is a force stronger than God with brass knuckles. Everybody is dumber, me included. I might as well do what everybody else does, point a finger and blame someone else. So I am blaming you, its your fault, everything is your fault, even if I did it, its still all your fault...that actually felt pretty good.

Real quick, one thing that makes me bat-shit crazy is the GPS unit. I see them and become insane. I can read maps. Geese get their asses to Florida for the winter every year, without a map or a GPS. Are we seriously dumber than a fucking bird. Did we not navigate the Rocky Mountains, so we could kill a shitload of Indians on the other side.

I give up, I am going to take a nap, wake me up when its time to elect Miley Cyrus for president.

Put a Egg In Your Shoe and Beat It!

The illustration above is a pair a shoes designed for the 2012 USA Basketball team...and this little story has nothing to do with that.

I am thinking of what I am going to write about, the shitty time I had at the LA Marathon or how I started smoking cigarettes (Long Pause)...Okay, so my mom smoked since she was 13 and most of my friends started to smoke at about that age too. I never smoked at a young age, I dipped a little, but girls think that stuff is nasty. Also, I remember watching a video in health class about dipping that made never want to do it again.

The first time I actually got into cigarettes is a strange story, thankfully it is short. I was 17 hanging out with my younger brother at our summer camp (only one-side of my family had money, now everybody's poor), we were riding bikes around the woods looking for things to do. One of things we used to do was steal anything we could from the cars that were parked by people using the riverbanks to fish from. I would be the lookout and my brother would get the goods out of the car, sometimes we switched. Anyway, we got a lot of weird things, once we got a tampon box filled with condoms, weed, a pipe, a bag of coke, a weird religious coin and a really expensive fishing lure. My brother ran towards me with the tampon box, I remember seeing it in his hands, before I could say anything, he just said "Dude" and opened the box to show me the contents. One day, he got a carton of Camel Wides, I figured we could sell them or something. Instead we kept them. Since then both my brother and I are disgusting smokers.

The lesson to learn here is simple, if you start to steal then you will probably die of lung cancer, I know it doesn't sound fair, but tough titties, life isn't fair.

Not sure what this posting is about but it started with boys and gang violence

What is it about gangs and violence that attracts boys. I will admit I was in a little tiny close group of friends. When we were out we were always looking for trouble, blood was spilled, windows shattered, egos bruised...some egos were beaten to a pulp. I was probably the weakest link, I like a fair fight, I don't have the heart to smash some one in the head with a portable grill when they are on the ground in pain (also I have a glass-jaw that shatters with the slightest touch (as if I was Mr. Glass in Unbreakable)). I have been slightly cut by a knife, that was scary. I have been in the back of the head with a brick, that was very painful and also scary. No pain can match a golf club whipping over and over against your back, legs, arms...while you are blinded by pepper spray. Anyway, shit happens. As my girl Aaliyah used to say "you can dust yourself off and try again." I am older now, I have no insurance, no dental, no medical, no vision, plus now I am pudgy, slow, weak and soft. The 18-year-old version of me, could rape and pillage my apartment in seconds and all I could do is rock the fetal position as hard as I can.

The old days are over, I wish I fought better, but I wish I had done a lot of things better, much more important that I neglected. Now I am a lover, and I am much better as a lover than a fighter. I have a dog and she is not a pitbull. She's a lover too and hates social tension...goddamn I love her. click here for a great example of boy gang violence

Welcome to the Ole Silver Tush

I am new to this blogging game. Blogging to me always sounded strange. First of all I hate most blogs, as most are annoying updates on some one's boring life. On the other hand, The Killer Octopus blog is excellent. I can't promise this blog won't suck like all the others and I can't promise it will be great like the Killer Octopus. Anyway, if you don't like than you can find something else to do...like going for a walk outside instead of "surfing the web."