I Wish My Name Was Frank Cause I'd Like To Be

By Scoundrel Ghost

all the time.
Seems honest, efficient.
It's those "feelings"

we have that are so important
that get in the way.

If I said to a bartender, 

"I'm drinking, not in charm school.  Unless your going to feel me up, shut up and pour".
I'd have to watch every drink's perpetration after that. 

No, " I gotcha buddy."

More like 

"I will  get you. asshole. "

Personally, I would like to be directly, honestly and succinctly spoken to.
It's my lack of feelings that gives me the rewards of indifference. 

Humphrey Bogart's character, Rick Blaine in Casablanca summed up indifference best when he said ,
" Everybody has problems, maybe yours will work out."

Here is another time when I said what was on my mind. 

"If you will just touch it, this  will all be over and we can go home,"

Now that didn't go over like I thought it would. 

Followed with, 

"Really? What's the problem ? "

Then,

"One who waits who hesitates will be TOO late. "

Very quickly I found myself explaining to police that this was not my van and it belonged to a friend's mom. But I didn't know his last name. Or hers. 

Oh well. All is well that doesn't end in serving time again. 

Usually, I find my frankness when I've lost my ability articulate. Fortunately, most of what slurs thickly out of my mouth falls into the roaring noise of the bar or the numbed eardrums of those around me. 

But occasionally, it registers. 

That's when I offer that they were mistaken. I'm a gentleman. 

And if they want the cops here, I know them quite well and they will be happy to take us all for cheese sandwiches. 

One again indifference favors the fool.

It is such a shame born with two livers and only one bladder

By Scary Halloween 

God works in mysterious ways. To me that means he is a perverse deity with a precise, delicious, awe inspiring sense of humor. 

I love him for that.  I hate him for that. 

It's hilarious really how much time and energy we spend fretting, fighting living in fear. Obsessed in the pursuit for wealth, power and junk when we live such short momentary lives. So fleeting, seems like our time would be best spent elsewhere. 

But no. 

You, me. We actually think we own the physical objects around us that we have painstakingly accumulated. 

To what end to what means?
For security, self image?
To fill feeling?

Sentimentality is just that. Clinging to the physical to connect to a feeling a memory is odd to me.  Why not just connect. By pass the junk.

Now what I really wanted to discuss is God's ( in our eyes FAVORITE) mistake. Us. Humans. 

What a pretentious bunch of assholes. When you look at us, one can only rationally decide we are his Ebola or sitcom.
If not, then God is a drunkard. I can live with that.

Can you?

Regardless, for my sanity, I think it is laughter he is after. 

If not, God help himself and us all. 

I can only handle a certain level of crazy before I go mad.

By Scoundrel Ghost

Same with a pretentious irritating voice yapping on and on. It never shuts up unless it gets a beating it deserves. 

I would like to intellectually slice him up then physically beat him down. What an asshole to ruin my 5th gimlet. 

Assholes. They are everywhere. 

The other night I noticed a show, Celebrity Hauntings. For god sakes. I've never been haunted except by my past. 

How is it that these 3rd rate celebrities, one after another has been haunted? 

Attention, desperation, needy liars. 

Ghost hauntings?

There are enough assholes in this world,

 I don't need one from another dimension annoying me like this piss ant at the corner of the bar.

I know all he knows means nothing in the end. but now myself sitting alone with my gimlet while he is surrounded by hot chicks hanging on his every gratingly delivered word, haunts me. Asshole.