im going to be the best middle manager i can be
my new destiny
to take an entry level management job at 42
outwork the fresh faced college grads with their boundless enthusiasm and youthful energy
beat them im pure mean
never sleeping
ill sleep when im dead
a true company man
yeah
thats one nightmare of mine
that i find a job i love
thats why i apply for shitty jobs
the same reason i talk to ugly girls
if you apply for a good job the lazy train has reached its final stop
time to get to work
ewww
if you start flirting with hotties
lookout
you need a good job
or an insane hottie
and the insane ones are already all dancing at the clubs
and scorning you when you have spent all your extra money
for a fat dude
with a better job and more money
for the old guy who is looting the pension plan for his lapdance habit
for the roofer on payday
capitalism at its best in the strip club
where the girls usually win the battles
stripping losers of their cash
feeling superior
until dude offers them 10 grand
and they realize that they are just another high priced commodity
with a short shelf life
in an ever-expanding marketplace
and their expiration date is coming nigh
and their memories of those high earning evenings come back to them when the drug haze lifts

sitting in front of the computer
its a beautiful day
sun is warm for november
but i must stay inside
if i walk the streets tonite
i will see it

hope
for the future

the anti-me

what if i'm wrong
and all the halloweeners on the streets aren't doomed

if halloween isnt a parade of young doomed souls
doomed by their leaders actions
doomed by greed
doomed by powerlust

yeah...
i want to be stronger than the seasons
stronger than the moon
stonger than the cosmos

go for it
id rather float along

i see the iceberg, yet am strangely calm
doom is in the air
can you smell it?
go ahead, have a kid and explain global warming to him
explain racism to her

explain why paradise is fighting back

and this time ITS FOR REAL
PARADISE-BO
the final mission

when a planet turns RAMBO on the people who despoil it
hurricanes are just the beginning
the people in florida are still without power
hurricanes are old news if theres no flood
or rioting negroes
haha
you chose to live in paradise
you live with the consequenses when paradise fights back
on pay-per-view
where i live we need to outrun a glacier
and fight off the hordes crossing the landbridge over the sea from romania
and russia

too drunk to write
so i peck away, anyway
fartin, drinking, smoking a doob
i know im too old for this level of amusement
yet
i persist

bakeowski came about in a bout of cannibis inspired frantic scribblinG. yeah, du-uu-uude
like charles bukowski except he gets BAKED man
and its sorta a hybrid between you and your favorite authors name yer last name aand all and it just works on so many levelS.

i was a drunk waiter when a couple came into the bar where i worked after dropping out of college the first timE.
the cooks and i would kill takeout sixpacks when the owner went downstairs to get things from the office or store rooM.
the owner would check the fridge for sixpacks, so we had to kill all six each time, sometimes one cook sometimes twO.
i got really good at drinking beer fast, which pays off in so many ways and in so many social settingS.
thats why i started "chugaluggy with mr. rugby" friday nite seminars on drinking beer fast and manly thingS.
a survival seminar for city stranded country fucks such as myselF.
before i became a nigger, i became a redneck, spending some years in fresh air that changed my reality with all that nature and shiT.
then i moved to the city and used a word that cam only be used by "uS"
but the otherr party in the conversation did not recognize my credentials, my certificate of niggerdom had expired, so i became unemployeD.
in a tearful moment of after schoool special bonding between a young man and his teacher and softball coach, robert johnson (probably his real name)said to me,
"mr baker,
dont take this the wrong way but, youre my nigger"

it was the nicest thing a kid in a school ever said to mE.
then i get fired for saying it
i should have called him into the office for my hearing with those scowling all business bitches from the schoolboard who were so happy to have caught themselves a racis, so happy to rid the school system of a monster who had fnally showed his true colorS.

anyway

im doing my first ever "drunk waiter show" and it goes pretty well, people think it funny that during brunches im drinking as much champagne as their table is and when skip the cook is working im chugging lots of beerS.
this couple think that i should read this bukowski dude and i ask my dad about the author and he says oh shiT.
so i knew it had to be gooD.
the college professor wasnt interested in discussing this author at all....hmmmm.
so i think thats why my mom enrolled me in kutztowN.
i was living in fairmont, walking the same streets buke was when he was fetching sandwiches and writing brutal prose...
i get a call one day from my mom, pack, you start college again on monday...
and there i was...
discovering rugby, becoming sexy, and trying hard not to graduate...
but thats another story, this is a shout out to charles bukowski, read love is a dog from hell, war all the time, woman, and play the piano drunk like a percusiion instrument until your fingers start to bleed a bit...
from the years before he qualified for the senior citizen early bird specials and wrote the same poem about
dying soon,
as the plane flies over his house
cats scattered at his feet...
before he was big in germany
and selling a screenplay and hobnobbing with sean penn.
back when he was survivng on guts, shitty beer and a negative attitude....
when life was his canvas and brutality was his medium he still created beauty
like compost
turning shit into flowers

double shifts coming my way and its my challenge NOT to stick a fork in some rich fucks eyE.
white gloveS.
these jitbags are so rich they dont even want to risk touching the skin of a lesser caste person such as myselF.
well i wont be touching you it will be all five tines of a dinner fork and if im lucky ill make it out of the buildinG.
if not im a martyr, striking a blow for the common maN.

"dont push me cause im close to the EDGE
im trying not to lose my head
huh huh huh huh huh"

i probably wont do it because im too pretty for prison but its FUN to think abouT.

my aura glows prettily with each passing day of poverty for this is the road to success in this world. one must become so disgusted with the way things are that he or she sets out to change the planet, buddha did it the cool way, walking into the woods from a life of prosperity. he had a bit of a safety net tho, he could always go back to his wife and kids and his part of the kingdom. its not as noticable when a nobody drops out of society. no ones looking for homeless charlie, but they know where to find him and if hes not there theres a whole set of assumptions and judgements and commentary about his chosen life style. its actually pretty exciting to be doing nothing important with my life right now. when i did the important job it set new high blood pressure marks in all the doctors offices i found myself in. walking around like a time bomb, getting drunk and high as much as possible, playing rugby on the weekend frequently also drunk and high and teaching in he hood. I was a bomb waiting to go off and i almost did that day on the stretcher when they kept me in the hospital an extra day and threatened a second night of incarceration if my number did not go under 100.
so i meditated and relaxed and calmed and got it where it had to be and moved on.
so there must be a cosmic reason for me not to have that stroke
yeah
cuz im an important man in some corners of the cosmos
you earth cats just aint hip to it yet
as you destroy your paradise and turn it into a festering shit hole
caught in the illusion of greed
which is an animal impulse that does not infect spiritually clean entities
thats why you were put here on this paradise
to see what sort of caretaker you would be
to see if you can be trusted in the more fragile yet breathtakingly beutiful corners of the universe where you can see the wind and that smell just before a heavy snow is just the beginning of the aromatic banquet
where everyone is fulfilling their truest natures and its so good you need a break from all that happiness because happiness is a drug almost as bad as greed
smiling all the time llike ental patients or people on prozac
yeah get me some prozac
i want to know that everyything is ok even when it so clearly is not
i want to be blissfully unaware that there are too many bunnies in this particular hutch.
that even adorable bunnies, when overpopulated, turn cannibalistic
i want to witness the cosmic payback to you foul creatures who populate this world
im working undercover for the galactic press
galactic press update
GPU- Earthlings today again ignored the death throes of their planet, genocide seems to be the only thing they are good at. But they fail to realize that the planet isnt quite dead yet and still has a few defenses left and here comes the latest,

the catering director told me that there was a man in the lobby with a bone in his hand. that was my cue to spring into action. i assured her i would take care of it immediately and headed out there with my trusty napkin-lined tray.
"can i take that for you sir?"
picture 4oo hungry richfucks and their hangers on in a feeding frenzy and a bunch of butlers circulating with trays of lamb chops. what are they to do with the dainty bone after sucking and munching on the poor unfortunate lambs carcass? thats where i came in...
when i was lucky enough to time it JUST right id get it right from their mouth onto my tray, no waiting. picture me on the wrong end of the distribution network, kicking the waiters and telling them to stop what they are doing, calling them all sorts of names. picture me almost killing the chef who asked why i needed white gloves to pick up those unhygenic nasty chewed up bo-peep remnants.
so i had a more violent rugby game than usual this weekend and it felt good to step on people maybe just a tad malicioiusly, to hit a little later than normal and a little harder than a b side match usually warrants...
its like my inner asshole woke up from hibernation or something
i like having him around
he noticed that some of the younger folkes werent exactly respectful in their interactions with the 42 year old prop that they spoke to that evening
perhaps a little too cocksure, a little too disrespectful
well thats what rucking practice is for
im taking the inner asshole to practice on tuesday night and apologizing in advance
if i have some still simmering rage left fom the lambchop nite from hell to work out
that whole "you better make sure your mouth dont write a check your ass is unwilling to cash" paradigm is what i hope to share with these mouthy young fellers
but thats what rugby is anyway
the ultimate clearinghouse for testosterone and testosterone fuelled conversations
but talk and typing are cheap replicas of the real rugby world that has to be felt and smelt to be believed
time to make a few more friends

handcuffs have an annoying habit of clicking and becoming tighter when you or her toss and turn in your sleep on a bean bag and the floor in some nice fellows montana home on a rugby tour.
i think it was the first pac tour there. jake hooked us up but good. rugby in paradise.
this wasnt the tour when we laxed the cats, the side from canada, by mixing exlax in pitchers of beer which we graciously porued for them and chugged our own non laxxed beers...
at a scrum down i asked my opposing prop if there was something in the water up here or what? and he agreed that many of his teammates were still shitting themselves as i chuckled and took another tighthead off him....that would be two years later...
this was my first real tour so i made sure to pack the handcuffs, just in case....
the tour started off when we drank the plane dry and were almost grounded in utah because someone was having too much fun with some wheel chairs...i believe it was the mayor of missoula on the flight with us who told them we we all ok or the tour would have stopped there....
they served us no alcohol on the flight to missoula and as we deplaned grabbed our kit bags and were introduced to the maggot bus a deluxe school bus with couches in the back area known as the pit

no shit from the pit
ruckking cans
we travelled in style peeing in the funnel in the front door lavatory no stopping
simple casual elegance, great tunes

that night i believe i was wearing the life vest from under my seatmates seat
not as comfortable as you would imagine
this was the tour where my host happened to have a refirgerator full of mushrooms, freshly picked for the festival
the maggot fest
hosted by the missoula all-maggots www.maggots.org

the granddaddy of all rugby tourneys anywhere in the universe
mecca
one should make a trip to the maggot fest once in ones rugby career it is truly lifechanging
so my graciouis host says help myself and i did
i retired to a room with a waterbed and i was watching the ceiling wiggle when my host again appears asking if i am going to town, and if so hes out, here are my car keys and theres a line on the dresser to help you drive
I LOVE THIS PLACE
im not advocating polydrug abuse in anyway
but if you ever have a chance to do a handfull of fresh shrooms and just when you start seeing the colors all pretty and vibrant if you should happen to do a rail that is an easy half gram
get into a car and drive
its beautiful a cocoon of happiness
nothing wrong with the world
some dead on the tape deck and you are truly space trucking with cosmic charley and the bebop orchestra
but then montana gets better
we played the maggots as a tune up for the festival and stepped on and rucked each other savagely then drank each other under the tables and all was good
there was some rafting and some buffalo and plenty more rugby great rugby where the air is still clean
then theres the womens teams all in town to party hardy
university of washington in particular is that the studmuffins? or did i imagine that was their name
they were all cute and flirty and fun to sleep next to in a drunken mess
but as fine as they are i would advise you to remember that they are rugby players and they will hurt you in your sleep if you fuck with them
so anyways i think i missed the huge mega keg party because i was handcuffed to a local lovely in my hosts home, smoking some weed...
i handcuffed her in town because she had tremendous brestesess and a warm smile that didnt leave her face when the handcuffs clicked on her and i invited her back to the house
so an hour or two into the party, me a handcuffed cary grantish brute, suave debonair witty and smelling like a man because of course there are NO SHOWERS ON TOUR
she liked manliness but nature was calling...she had to go
i made a show of looking for the handcuff keys
she said it wasnt funny but of course it was
and she couldnt hold out much longer and dam where did i leave my keys?
how am i gonna get into my house back in DC?
natures call had to be heeded so i suggested that i could stand in the bathtub behind the shower curtain becasue i am such a sweet decent caring person who respects a wonmans right to privacy and need for decorum
util she wipes and flushes that is
the shower curtain slides away and we are kissing
shes on the sink and you cannot take a shirt completely off in handcuffs but its alot of fun trying to and did i mention she was magnificently well endowed in the mammary department and its getting really interesting and we hear the first click of the handcuffs tightening but do not care at this point
were on the floor and the rug is bunched behind her head and her knee keeps hitting the cabinet door with each copulative thrust and many someones are knocking on the bathroom door and laughing their asses off asking if we are alrgiht and the dam cabinet door banging sounds like we are doing remodeling in there
we sort ourselves out and at this point i really look for the key and it isnt anywhere
and the evening winds down and we're sleeping on the floor and beanbag and the cuffs click and tighten three or four more times which is really getting painful
morning comes and we call the police and the chief comes and says these arent real handcuffs do you have a screwdriver and he gets them off of us in two minutes and we say goodbye and that is not the best story of carnal lust on that tour
that storyy would be the one involving another prop on my team, the middle of a road and a full colostomy bag
i forget if she had a glass eye or one leg but that gemtleman is a personal hero of mine
he describes the colostomy bags sloshing in rhytym and we wind up being the most honored side that weekend becaause at the maggotfest everyone is a winner they serve buffalo steaks at the party they have hundreds of kegs of beer and its friggin MECCA up there and life was grand

i remember being a badasS. primal, id walk into any room, scope out the booze and the nubile females and begin my worK. thick and mean, no one to trifle with, sometimes with my head shaved to a nubbness that women loved to run their hands oveR.

the gas company sent my bills to my dads house so i never got theM.
he would write them letters saying "i am beyond tolerance in this matter" and similar phraseS.
trying to get them to send the bill to me instead of him, calling them and being put on holD.
ive spent hours in different gas company officeS.
that phrasings not phasing theM.
they sit behind bulletproof glass in the cashiers office and have an armed guard in there because people get irate when you shut off their hot water and heaT.
they get hypE.
not mE.
im amuseD.
its a puzzlE.
hot water can be run thru a coffee maker and you can take it with you into the bathroom like the cowboys used to do with a washbasin of steaming water brought seductively inn by the innkeepers wife the morning after you ravished her because you are really a ghost of a us marshall that was bullwhipped to death right there in the middle of the street and you were sent from hell to punish these cowardly townfolke, who didnt lift a finger to help you that horrible nighT..
yeah, i channel clint eastwood when i deign to bathE.
the bill was only about 60-70 bucks, thats the funny thinG.
the gas company is going gangsta on uS.
i carried a balance of 5-7000 dollars when i lived in my moms house and she forgot to tell the first floor tenants that they should pay for gaS.
it was really warm in there those two winterS.
tropical eveN.
now they shut you off with a vengance and thats oK.
if it gets too cold, ill buy a space heater for 22 bucks at home depot and burn electriC.
but my bill for the winter was tiny last year, im on the top floor and hot air riseS.
and my neighbors on each side heat their row homes as well, my bill was puny last year, when i saw what they shut me off for that iS.
i also have an electric frying pan once owned by my dead aunt and im getting good at sauteeing things in it, i may never have gas heat agaiN.
its a trade ofF.
instead of polluting by burning gas and sending dead dinosaurs souls skyward from my south philly location
i am burning coal
very far away,
is coal a fossil fueL?
i know alot of it is laced with mercury which gets into all the water in pennsy so you cant even eat the fish in the water herE.
like the big ocean fish they say pregnant women should eat in moderation because the mercury in their tissues can fuck with a fetuses brain chemistrY..
one can of tuna a weeK.
because we need cheap electricity because electricity is civilization, it runs all the coolest toys and lights and TEEVEES and computers and everythinG.
to heck with the tuna obsessed mommies of the worlD.
im starting shit on this onE.
TUNA OBSESSED MOMMIES OF THE WORLD UNITE!
someone call opraH!
yes i boldly plan to rally tuna obsessed milfs to actioN.
i have an action plan, talking points, a phone list, canvassers, the whole nine and me and these tuna loving milfs will not be ignored by big energY.
were starting a movement man, me and my milfS.
you love tuna milf? ME TOO!
lets right this terrible wrong together.....
even betteR.
if you are pregnant i urge you to eat nothing but tuna, sushi, canned casseroles, tuna salad sanwiches, tuna on your cheerios, salad nicoise',tuna melts, all tuna, all the time, and then when you give birth to the mongoloids you are giving back a living sacrifice to the gods which is something we have gotten away from that is a pretty smart practice i thinK.
more aztec hearts on the temple stepS.
more dudes on crosses, more crusades, oh wait georgy boy you have restarted the crusades again havent you, what a brainy dude, i guess great minds think alike, old boY.
and i know that blogs ae really a tricky way to catch the few remaining humans who are free thinkers so i await my jailing on trumped up chargeS.
i know this but type on, and if i ever dissappear one day you will know it was the man who did me in, for being so onto his schemes and spreading the word, and wait, whos that at my doo

What a hilarious jest I have been typing here tonight. Of course it is all quite silly. The government is your friend. They benevolently look out for us and think of only our best interests in their every waking moment. Haliburton uber alles.

i have silently served beers to rhodes scholars using phrases like "lachrymose countenance" in a sentencE.
sad face is easier to saY.
i have heard politicos give earnest caring speeches about reforming health care for the needy in the top of the largest office building in the citY.
the one with the blue cross on iT.
a building built on denying coverage to generations and populationS.
the nurses in the audience knew he was lying, but he was really good at iT.
the smiling kids in the photos on the wall did not know they were being useD.
the kids without healthcare or food are too busy holding their bellies and starving to smilE.
starving to death in americA.
dying from treatable maldieS.
but profits are uP.
maybe the dead appalachian kids get the easy way ouT.
some even are heard to envy dead hillbillie corpseS.
"man i wish i was a dead hillbilly corspe kid,"
"yeah they gotta sweet deaL"
"no bills, no problems"
"Yeah they be chillin with tupac and biggie and stuff"
"and they always have the option to become a zombie crusader for justice, going around eating the brains of the truly bad people in the world."
"yeah thats the life, i mean death, ai'ight"
"word"

his theme song goes something like this....

"he crawls right into their beds to suck bad mens brains from their EAR HOLe,
hes zombie hillbilly crusader infant, american HE-RO"

ZHCI on his diaper, no cape, just a baby, a diaper with his logo and a taste for the brains of executives in the health care and insurance industries, their pr people and the polticians that do their bidding while lying about their concern for the lil people
its the ultimate lil peoples revenge
and its fitting that he sucks out their brains as these brains were put to no good use and are obviously diseased or deranged or controlled by greed
and then they can harvest whatever useful organs are left in the still warm body
vans with ZHCI on the side roll up to the front door after the brains have been sucked out

i play rugbY. I guess ill keep on doing so as long as my knees hold out or until some sweet tender thang convinces me that there are better things to do with all my freetime that fuse the vertabrae in my neck some morE. then ill have to sneak out and play secret rugbY.
i play to test myself and define my limitS. to explore the brutish shadow creature of purple rage that it is impolite to inflict on societY. rugby provides a neanderthal outleT. rugby gives me a chance to share this with the world that provoked it and keeps me out of jaiL.
i test myself against a menagerie of machO. the full spectrum of the alpha malE. from marines to bbikers to roidheadS. foreign born dirty fucks, american badasses and everyone in between. some are just in it for the beer, we call them

blackthorN

some are so focussed on rugby carnage that they have a tangible aurA.
we play to satisfy a primal urgE. you do not know what kind of havoc testosterone plays on your mind until you are on a field with two dozen plus fast mean strong alpha males half of which want to take your head ofF. strong male egos, kicking ass, taking names and leaving your body covered with aluminum tipped footprints that sting in the showeR.
its too hard to explain to americans because the action is just beginning at the tacklE. that guy who booted you is right there on the ground and payback is a bitch and ive got 80 minutes to get you bacK. and if it isnt me it will be one of the fifteen large thuggish friends i took the field with this daY.
the best thing about the game is that i can walk into a bar anywhere in the world and probably find a rubgy player or someone who knows onE. the following saturday i could again be sharing my pain with the world, giving back to the world that has so richly rewarded me with reasons to ragE.
and after the sharing of the blessed sacramental rage we would again adjourn to a watering hole with the other berserkers, conversations peppered with words like torn, sprained, concussion and friendly banter about how next year it will be a different story, now that you know what a cheating bastard you conversation mate iS.

toddler sees big bird, his teevee friend, breaks mommies distracted tourist grip and lurches towards his pal excitedly calling "bee bo, bee be, bee bo"....the bird in question is painted larger than life on a the side of a moving bus...
a security chain stretched between fat steel posts to stop the nasty terrorists saves this kid from being scraped out of the wheel well...this time...that would be a bit of a downer, hitting a human speed bump...maybe you can hear the head bursting like a dropped pumpkin, skissss, a sound that will stay with you for awhile...and then the day is shot waiting to be interviewed by the cops, watching mommies anguished wailing, the shaking, in shock bus driver who keeps saying "there was nothing i could do" as big bird looks on with the same inane expression of joy...eight feet of gore spattered advertisement...sesame place open on weekends thru november...one less consumer, one less believer, two new reruits to the prescripption drug army, neeeding their pills to get thru the days now, in quiet moments they still hear "bee bo" thump skisss...
so maybe the war on terror is doing something worthwhile afterall, showing tangible results...
i need a new war myself
im quitting the was on apathy, illiteracy and ignorance that i waged as a teacher
they win
so many people working so hard and getting something so wrong
i think my new war will be on pervert priests
i have this poverty lifestyle working anyway
i may as well take a vow and try to root out the secret homo priests
go undercover
try to make it through the repetitve "god this and god that" stuff and catch and kill monsters
undercover in the seminary
instant justice
a serial killer stalks the halls of st charles seminary but since hes killing twisted homo froccked freaks the only reason the cops want to talk to him is to give him a medal...
be the new priest in town
how did that work anyway?
some dude, out of the blue, administrative transfer, after living in boston for 25 years, being a real pillar of the community by day and sicko at night....
"so why'd you move to topeka father?"
"uumm, i needed a change of pace, to be somewhere out of the limelight to pursue my faith in christ almighty more devoutly."
the other preists would have to know why the transfers happened, as they know why father reilly was shipped out
"dont worry about it father, here in topeka our boys know how to show proper respect for a man of the cloth, you wont have anything to worry about, as a matter of fact johnny here is all set to recieve a 'special communion' from you if youd care to 'consecrate' him"

from the archives...how many drinks is enough?
how much more trash do i need to view before teevee is unwatchable?
how many more dudes must i push around the rugby field to prove myself?
how many hunchbacks must i create as the result on my manly scrummaging?
who am i proving myself to besides myself and what still unproven hypothesis still needs to be turned into a proof?
what dramatic turn of events comes next in this exciting life and why?
when opportunity meets preparation some view it as luck....
when lack of preparation meets pseudo opportunity you have my life...
time to prepare...
for what? for who?
what is the perfect end result....
the fog clears on a ride to work in the hood
the person who taught me to teach was filled with a missionary zeal
she stayed late, was mean to the "ignorant ghetto children" she taught and they ate it up
it was said she could teach a rock to read, and she by any means neccessaried them, keeping them 2 hrs after school, having pre-dawn tutoring sessions...
she was the terminator of teaching
she took her responsibilities very seriously as a church going woman and was saving lives
thats when i started to question my motives for teaching
summers off, a 6 hour work day, work 186 days a year, benefits
you earn those great perks
in the time tremiteacher grew up people had more respect for the profession
school wasnt free
school was something that was fought for, slaves that could read were killed for the mos part
the southern radical underground taught them to read
that was a great fight
you mouthed off to the teacher youd get it from the school, and when you got home get a second dose, and maybe a third dose from grandpa or some other village elder
it was also a time where lynchigs happened to the uppityest of negroes
so i tried to access my negro grandma as a discipline strategy
i had mxed results
by the time i would explain the dynamic, their eyes would already be glazed over
"dont make me turn into cranky gramma on you now chile
now be a good boy and fetch grannies jug and teefus
or go out behind the outhouse and cut yesself a switch
jess down come back empty handed, ya hear?"
"NOW GIT, an doan cummback widdout somefin in yo hand"

when i told homeless charlie, aka tangerine man, that i was broke and jobless he told me i was always welcome. he was standing in the middle of columbus boulevard in front of YOUR STORE NAME HERE and begging for change with his "i am homeless, please help God bless you sign. YOUR GOD HERE^^^
it was the best offer ive had in days.
ive been applying for jobs everywhere, and while tailoring my cover letter to indicate that i was a loyal customer, as well as a crack management candidate, i realized what a whore i was being for cash and decided to go all out. to become the best money grubbing whore i can be.
yeah i applied to the army today.
^^^^YOUR BRANCH OF THE MILITARY,GOVT AGENCY HERE
...lied about my age...lessee how far into the intake process i can get before their computer finds out im 8 years too old...theyll prolly throw me in some jail for lying to the government in a time of heightened terror....
or give me the option of going to iraq for a year, ten in jail or one in iraq...
if you want to buy any of these links you can pay the standard fee and the link is yours for one year, then the rights revert to me...ill give you a discount price on the next year, a very special one at that....
anytime you see a place in all caps YOUR NAME is the greatest rugby player ever and this is why, its your chance to get on the imbakeowski team in a very tangible and everlasting way....
you will be issued stock
i know this is prolly illegal too, but heck, its a white collar crime, ill go to a pussy ass white collar jail and run the shit....yeah thats right, ill be bossing all them tyco motherfukkas around and the enron boys and all those cats....unless they are out already...prolly are
^^^^YOUR SCANDAL RIDDEN COMPANY HERE!!!!
yeah ill make those ceo millionaires my bitches and make sodomy(non homo just as plain old maile dominace tool) no lube <<<to the tune of howdy doody time<<<<"its anal karma time,
its anal karma time,
its anal karma time
its anal karma time"
and now the anal karma time dancers, entering to their official song
"doin da butt, hey sexy sexy<<<
ok baybee, its all about the marketing now, yeah, ill provide the product, and even the references, maybe even making links to some of the harder words if i can find the right ONLINE DICTIONARY COMPANY...
this definition by websters, bloviate...verb. to do something and describe it with an obscure term, when a simpler term would have sufficed.
i started hanging out with homeless dudes on a trip to vegas with my rugby team.
we stayed at and the hookers were three deep around the bar...
i never got so many pretty smiles in my life, but 400 was the going rate and that would have left me close to fundless....i wish theyd come thru the poker area when i was up that 1800...
i could have come out way ahead there..
anyway i ran that pile of cash down to nothing in a day and a half, not sleeping round the clock poker was doing me fine.
36 hours of white russians into this poker orgy, no accelerants in my system and my adrenal gland failing i played some drunken blackjack...and went quickly broke
so i was walking across town,
all the way across,
when i noticed train tracks, so i climbed up the gravel embankment and started walking along them sort of hoping for a train to come and singing >DRUNK LOSER SONG HEREi saw movement ahead
stopped melodifying
and entered stealth mode...
young voices in the night...one of my favortie sounds...ahhh nocturnal beach sex, fun in the pool, dorm girls staggering in late, young voices laughing in the nite air is delicious to my ears.
not that i have a shot or that i am anything but olde fat slow broke and creepy with no rap these days.
it was just an olde habit
and you know about the elderly nuns who wear those habits and how they die so hard,
i mean you kick them,
you stomp them
and they still finger you in a police lineup,
their crushed windpipes never seem crushed enough,
thats why i always use>YOUR BASEBALL BAT HERE<
so i stagger towards these young voices
it sounds like a party up ahead in the construction rubble strewn gully they are walking out of.
the teens and i walk down into the gully, which i later find out is actually a wash, and its all post apocalyptic there, with the concrete and rebar debris and teh shacks in the little camp at the bottom of the wash...
bedsprings and tin cans dominate the trash pile, but theres really nothing near the entrances and there are a few chairs set up outside one of the dwellings.
a battery powered tv is on inside
i meet the fellas and theres a wild eyed skinny one who does most of the talking and his dog.
his dog weighs about the same as my 270 lbs and looks like he had one too many hits of acid
in his day. eyes that alwyas seem to be focussing just to one side or the other of you and a voice that is a whispered shout, damaged vocal cords like he tried to crush a nuns windpipe one day and the tough old bird turned the tables on his biker lookin ass.
the talkative one says his dog was once a hells angel, i think he looks like a great prop,
like he is readily capable of mayhem. but he is a mostly gentle giant, here at his home with company over...
they say they are just on the way to the store to get some beer and i say that sounds "like a capital idea,"
"tut tut old man " and a hoarse "cheerio" are the bums replies.
the spigot on the warehouse we pass turns into a brief head dowsing and drinkup for the big fella. we get to the store and the skinny guy says wait a minute and the big guy starts panhandling the cars that stop at the light. hes good, a nice vacant smile makes him look a little less likely to eat your children, and he seems to make himself smaller.
i decide to treat, go in the place and overdraw my debit card, what the heck its vegas, and when i come out i find out that their favorite malt liquor is the as mine. the strongest potion they sell.
the one that rips your stomach lining out and makes your head feel so fine the next day.
we get back to their camp and they offer me "the good chair"
its a nice one alright.
skinny dissappears into blue tv glow of his shack and emerges with the surprise of the evening, a large cup of ice.
they get it from the ice machine at a nearby hotel. the ice cuts the nasty steel taste of the can that is dissolving because of the nastiness of the beverage it holds, but all is fine in the world as we share two four packs.
they feast daily on the day old sandwiches the vending guy throws out and its a pretty good life here, but the big dog wants to move to the state capitol because the begging is better there.
and theres the big red ball every morning that ruins their sleep.
it gets hot in the wash so they move around most of the day begging and finding air conditioned refuges from the heat.
we are out of beer so i say good bye and scratch at the last sand flea and feel good about myself for the first time in months.

hanging out with fellow spelling enthusiasts in a south philly sports bar i began noticing their limited repitoire and lack of appreciation for ironY. when the sideline sports girl, pam oliver was on screnn i started chanting "pO! PO! PO! PO! PO! PO!" and got no supporT. it was confusing as they all seemd to know the TO song, maybe they are all misogynists at this place and dont appreciate fine female sports sideline hard hitting coverage, as i dO.
the skinny drunk guy in his heros jersey got them to spell with him shortly thereafter, so i know they were all big fanS.
i tried again, but my word wasnt in their working vocabulary i guess which is when the confused looks started turning to hostile stareS.
i suppose i should stayed in the safe spelling zone, but a chick across the bar was laughing with me and the bartender thinks im cool and that doesnt happen ofteN.
i won tthe crowd back when the opposing coach, first name dick, threw his red flag to dispute our players recent athletic accomplishment, the red flag meant he was telling the refs to look at it on super slow motion upstairS. everyone hates a tattletale, a snitch, a crybaby, so my "Fuck you dick" was well recieveD.
the bartender was asking why i didnt where a jersy and i was explaining to her that i thought it was a little gay to wear a mans name on your shirt, like the cheerleaders did in highschool the monday after the big game, the jersey being their reward for all they did to help the team that team member deal with his hormones at the big post game partY. i started to get the hostile looks again, but luckily the team scored and all was forgotten during the frenzied high fiving and spelling orgy that followeD. then i went to wash my handS.

ok, this time i mean it, i'll really do iT. i will step into the machine that crushes hope and souls better and more efficiently than any ever inventeD. Thats righT. tommorrow i calibrate my life goals even lower, to their most demeaning depthS.
at 8 a.m. i will pour some water into my coffee pot, then jump into the cold shower, with hot accents that has kept me almost fresh since the bastards from the gas company screwed me out of hot showers yet agaiN. gel in my hair, clean shirt, i will stride purposefully into my new future, fill out the application and firmly shake the mangers hanD.
the surly waiter show, starting up a new engagement at the fabulous melrose dineR. see if you can be the straw that breaks this weary camels bacK. im gonna take the 11pm to 7 am shift so i can leave the days open for interviews and maybe some more fabulous temp shiftS!!!
to say that i am excited by this rich new chapter in my life would be vastly understating the casE.
i get to be mother theresa every night, feeding the poor, the hungry, the huddled diner masseS.
to say that this is pulling the trigger on my "suicide of hope" would be much closer to the trutH. unless the cartridge is a dud, i plan to be miserable, but, knowing this going in prepares me more to enjoy the miserY. the zen of it alL. the beauty in a job well done, perfectly refilled coffee cups and endless ashtrays, extra napkins and the smell of grease that sinks into your pores late in the shift, mixing with your sweat in a smelltastic melange, a bouquet that says... "winneR"
a waitress i worked with last week said it all used to get to her too, then she remembered that jesus was a servant toO. "hi, im jesus, ill be your waiter tonight, for the bluplate special we have baked haddock with macaroni and cheese with string beans for 5.99, which also includes one beverage, no refillS. a trip to our fabulous salad bar can also never mind i need to start drinking noW