Stopping Quitting Smoking

So there I was smoking and drinking with my friends in my usual fashion holding a beer in my left hand and a cigarette in my right, hunched over, elbows on the bar protecting them like I’ve done time in prison or I’m in the fast lane to self destruction,

“Move over Grim Reaper, I got this one”,

Understand, this is where I am at home at peace, all is right in the world, my heart is in it. On this not so particular night someone made mention that a friend was back to her regular drinking. She stated,

“I felt like drying out, now I’m done with that.”

Exactly I thought.

“Good for you”

I said.

“You know I am sick of society cramming exercising, proper diet and not smoking down my throat!”

And for what I ask you? Fine if they have the time, money and motivation to “take better care” of themselves. More power to them. So they will be those healthy RVing seniors galloping the entire world in their retirement. Burdening health care and sucking social security dry.

Well not me. I will gladly give my life to lesson our country’s social security debacle. I refuse to take care of myself so I can take money from an antiquated system that shouldn't exist. I would much rather have that money to do with as I please. Save it, invest it or drink it and smoke it away!

Avoiding things that you love for whatever the reason, is torture and a waist of time on Al’s planet. I like to subscribe to the philosophy of,

“What if a bus hits and kills me tomorrow or I’m carried off by a twister. What then I ask you?

Why should I spend the rest of my life running on a treadmill?

All the while, still tortured by the itching, nawing of severed nicotine and beer that societal pressure made me cut off when there is high probability I might die tomorrow.

I know life is full of other activities that don’t involve drinking and smoking. Is it not cruel to ask me after years of Pavlovian conditioning to try to change what is so certainly ingrained into my personality? I am positive there is a family smoking, drinking genetic code in my DNA. Unless one of you out there sends me off to some reconditioning camp while paying all my bills for a year, I will be what I am to the day I die. Maybe a little sooner than it has to be, but who can say what fate as in store for us. So, I choose immediate gratification as I always do!

Today! I’m stopping quitting smoking. I’ve tried many times and failed. I don’t have the will power and I obviously don’t want to quit. Also, I’m stopping feeling guilty about being a smoker. Fuck off! You health Nazis, pushing your opinionated agenda in my dry, pale wrinkled smokey face!

i HATE clowns

“I mean who really likes clowns? At best we tolerate them.” - P. Alice

What The fuck? Why would anyone want to be a clown? Really, I mean Seriously.

What kind of freak wants to be a clown?

John Wayne Gacey, that’s who.

How does a person arrive at a place and time in their life that they decide to become a clown?

“Well, I’ve already accomplished alcoholism.

I guess I could move on to public masturbation or

hone my skills as a pedophile.

Trifeccta ! I’ll be a clown!”

Hey clown! I can still smell your beer and cigarette soaked lungs breathing all over me. Fucking clown with your laughing face, caked with grease paint hiding all your dirty little secrets.

The only thing worse and lower than a clown on the piece of shit totem poll (not sorry PC’ers) is a pantomime. Why you might ask knowing that clowns are truly putrid?

Because they are physically healthy people who rehearse and practice. At least a clown has made a logical and only natural choice of effortless progression. It takes motivation, effort, practice and physical ability to become a pantomime. But for what? To stand in the street to be starred at by tourist.

I’M PULLING A ROPE, OH NOW ITS PULLING ME…

THE WIND IS BLOWING SOOO HARD…

HELP! I’M SOOO PUZZLED, I’M STUCK IN A BOX!

I really, really don’t get it. It is like being a Blogger

READ ME, HERE ME, FEED ME, NEED ME!

one dead body away from serial killing

I started with this title because my friend Mandy said it best describes me. Summed up in a nice equation of 7 words. So i begin my first entry.

I DON'T LIKE PEOPLE.

If you could ask the people that know me best, they would tell you so. They tell me in observational comment quite frequently or maybe as a kind gesture of suggestion for me to seek help. I have and i can tell you there isn't any.

I guess it comes from simple general disappointment. I thought we would be better as individuals making up the whole. You could say my disappointment is only a reflection of myself. But it isn't. Sure there are those few individuals in my life that are ok. But the human race as a whole... really look at us. I include myself. If civilization had been left up to me we would still be eating carrion.
(not sorry to the those who subscribe to intelligent design for my evolution reference.)
Oh sure, with the exclusion of a few artist, writers and scientist in the history of people on planet earth what mark have we made in the universe?

(not that we have to accomplish anything)

but for the sake of my position
lets say there are two existences
not mine and yours,
but ours and theirs
and to exist
there should be something to show for it {just in case the alien Joneses are watching})

I like to think there is some purpose to life not to mine or yours but to humanity. So how many smiths, joneses and halls does it take to get a Da vinci, Shakespeare or Einstein for fucks sake? Talk about your law of averages.

So this brings me to intelligent design. IF there is some intelligent designer, did it just stop at DNA. "Well lets see what happens now" i mean time is running out according to al gore, we don't have much earth left and we have only gotten to lindsey lohan, brittany spears and 2007.
(by the way what a fucking shitty ass year 2007 was. fuck! you! 2007! and all you treadmill running assholes, do you think you are getting anywhere? we are ALL going to die.)

Ok back to my point. Sure we have indoor plumbing, religion, drugs, www, ipods, booze, cable, porn etc... but to what end? to what means? do we have to have so many trailer park, NASCAR inhabitant excess to get so few Peter Gabriels in the world? Really, he is only going to live so long. Why cant he live 200 years in the place of of a couple former Jerry springer guest?

So the loathing and rage builds. I look in the mirror. I think one dead body is a start. Not me of course I'm too narcissistic to start there. But how can i leave MY mark? How can i help correct the nature of the law of averages. I cant stop procreation .....

but i can do damage control.