death dying and slicing and dicing.

I remember when we people died for real, like sabre tooth tiger attacks and defending one's honor in the street.  Now we all just die of this mythical cancer.  Boring.  I want my death to mean something. You know, Blood, Guts, Gore, and Glory.  None of this " I am sorry you have cancer, I must dissect you immediately and then Medicate you to death."  So quick we Americans are to cut out the bad.  I understand the theory, I mean we don't eat the bad spots on a potato or apple we cut them off, But I ain't no damn apple.  So you believe I will have a better quality of life without this portion of my liver, lung, pancreas, breast, mouth, throat, colon, testicle, lymph-node, etc. " Don't worry we can provide a pill that will produce the chemical necessity that the organ in question used to do for you."  ARE YOU FUCKING SHITTING ME?  Never before have we been so lucky as to have the medical advancements that enable us to so thoroughly, be able to alter, mimic, and enable you to live a life that resembles the one you used to have.
 So now I come away from the doctor visit I initiated because I couldn't ride a bike up the hill in my neighborhood anymore, that I had ridden up almost daily for the 10 years I have lived here.  I figured I was just getting old, but after a month of not making it up that hill I decided to have a check-up.  I walk out of the doctor's office flummoxed, unable to catch my breath on the way to the car.  Triple Bypass Surgery is what he said. The sooner the better.  Holy shit! I thought I was just aging now I am going to have Heart Failure?  So a month later still sore from my surgery and on a regiment of pills that would could make a tweeker cry, I fall asleep standing up and fall to the floor with a crash.  Mid fucking sentence.  We thought I had fainted and the doc said it could of been due to the medication. Then it happened again, and again.  Now I can't drive much less ride my Harley, my baby, my life.  The doc put me on more pills for the fainting, Narcolepsy, I believe is what they call it.  Bullshit is what I call it.  So now after my complaint of not being able to bike up a steep hill, I can  no longer drive, I can't walk for a mile without thinking I might have a heart attack and die.  Some days I would just rather die than live like this.  I miss not being able to bike up that hill.

Money as always.

So, if I was making half as much money as I am now in a forty hour work-week at a job I have to commute to, doing absolutely nothing, am I losing money?!  I mean I thought my unemployment benefit was extremely sub-par but the difference between having a productive personal life; as in working on my farm, spending time with family and friends, writing, reading, and the occasional odd job to supplement and standing around doing absolutely nothing for $9 an hour is devastating.  At forty hours a week that is only $360, and that is Before Taxes!  $360 a week. Are you shitting me?  I mean I am a MANAGER at a international corporate pizza chain.  Before taxes without bonuses that is only $18,720 a year. Surprisingly, I just read that the federal poverty level is $10,630 a year so I am above that but seriously who can live on these kind of wages and where?  So after I subtract let's say 10% for taxes, which we all know to be more, $4200 for rent, which is way cheap for an annual number,  I am left with a little over $12000.  Now imagine if I had a car payment, children, health insurance, life insurance, any type of social life whatsoever.  I am beyond broke. I have to eat, I have to heat, I have to keep my piece of shit car running and full of gas for the commute.  Now my time is very limited for my much better paying odd jobs, I am stressed over money and have much less time to spend with family and friends.  How is obtaining this job beneficial to me? As far as I can tell it is just one giant pain in my ass.  I miss sleeping in until 10 having a leisurely breakfast and ding about 6 hours worth of work getting paid in cash and not having to share any of it with the government.  Work is so over rated.  Quite possibly the most over rated notion in America.  I don't exactly hate my job.  But I surely don't feel it to be rewarding or productive.  Now I just hope I don't get fat.

O'Reily

Really, Bill O'Reily.  What a fuck tard!  Seriously his reason for God is that the ocean's tides cannot be explained scientifically.  This man has a TV show?  The worst part is that people actually believe this idiot.  There are people that eat and breathe fox news, believe Sarah Palin is a good moral choice for America.  These are the things that sadden me.  The "sheepol" it seems are completely complacent with the way things have been. Fearing change for the possibility that some part of it will affect them.  Scared that they might be asked to do their part. Happy to celebrate their consumer holidays on their specified extended weekends between the monotony of their daily slavery routine. Slaves to money, time, and the demands of all others within their lifetime trying to just share a piece of it.  So, I ask you stop, take a deep breath, think about your future and how you would like to spend it. I hope you would like to join me in doing my part pushing to rid our world of close minded ignorant people and those who honor them with their dutiful service.  Let us take part, bring about change and allow ourselves the one thing that this country was founded on; Freedom.

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Tadaa!

Tuesday of the first week of the year and I have officially earned about fifty bucks for 2011.  That fucking tax man will want 32.50 of it I am sure.  Prosperity where did I leave you? Why do you forsake me?  Now the Assistant Manager at a Dominos Pizza, I wonder when do you throw in the towel and just kill yourself?    Because I obviously spent 9 years in college to make 9 bucks an hour in a Management position in Roanoke.  Really, how in the fuck is that legal?  But a job is a job, but a blow job pays more and takes less time.  So maybe I should just start peddling my ass.  At least there is a recession free market.  So I aim at the sunshine, suck it up and know that before summer starts I will be a making an honest wage and working decent hours.  Otherwise I won't be here.  So if anyone sees, hears, smells any decent work that a dedicated, disenchanted, underwater basket weaver can do, hit me up.  Oh yeah people would have to actually read this bullshit to respond.