Stupid People Stay Away

There are some days I would just like to enjoy the time and maybe get something done on a project. Work on editing, draw some things for the card game, hope the world can be a better more accepting place, and maybe hope for the future.

Nothing gets to me than the idiocy of a large group of very dimwitted people. Seriously, I understand learning disabilities I was told to have a couple, but I am shocked at the sheer duncery of a group of people who have told me to check my privilege.

So I did. These people who do not like ideas or opinions or even conversation that takes a half watt of brainpower to understand make me go back to being a problem solver, because by god the market needs one again. I once had a nice conversation with someone from the BLM group and while I do not agree with the group 100% there are things that could be good if they focused more on them. Back to the point I had a talk with someone who had a nice conversation as we went over our points to and fro in a respectful matter about things the group would have to do to become more of a mainstay and less of an extremist group.

Now some people may find it strange but people can actually get together to have a conversation despite having different opinions. It may seem strange, but do not worry because one day when your minds evolve you may find it needed for people of different pasts to work together for something like maybe a cure for cancer, a stable housing market, healing after a major world disaster or war.

Then we get people who believe that all white people need to bow to all black people because of something that happened more then a hundred years ago with a small viewpoint blown out of proportion until enough people are rattling it off looking like phone controlled twitter zombies and it makes me want to headbutt people with a longhorn skull.

Like someone who wanted reparations for every slave in America not thinking that also included child labor, the Irish, Jewish, Chinese and the Germans at various points in time. This person who was in another BLM branch then wanted to change their goals because they are not about helping people, no, this particular branch close to my own neck of the woods thought it should be all about Black lives, but they are not racist because white people are the majority in this country and through something missing the entire meaning in English deem that anything against the majority race of a country cannot be deemed a hate crime.

This logic dictates that I can go somewhere with another race as the majority and start the White Lives Matter movement? Cheer how some brainless dolts with the same amount of melanin as me do crimes that bring people’s eyes to our cause right should make me pleased, right? It doesn’t and anyone who thinks that it should get their head sweetly held by a pair of blue whales until it’s flatter than Justin Bieber’s talent pool. I actually feel for the people who look at these knuckleheads and just want to say they are from another group of lifeforms just to spare the associations with whatever group of pinheads may be vying for the right to represent a whole group of melanin levels.

So about that checking my privilege test backed by the group. I got 12, my sister got 14 and my father got 24. According to a test where if you are white or male counts for a couple to only get such scores made the test tell us we shouldn’t need to tell the world is unfair but surprise it seems we are part of the few that know it. Take this whole instigating race war hypocrisy horseshit and just shove all of it, piece by piece where it belongs which would be in a toilet while those left actually look to see if there is a problem before attempting to fix it because either way a united front will bring with it a united solution.

0 CommentsLeave a comment

2016: The year of the suckage.

If I can just wipe out all of 2016 with a magic wand I would do it in a heartbeat. Mine sucked, and not many people had a better twelve months then suckage almost hard enough to get a golf ball through a garden hose.

Politics, sucked.

Media, sucked.

Health, sucked.

Progress, sucked.

Supplies, sucked.

Jobs, sucked.

It just all made me want to call a year long mulligan and try it all again tomorrow.

Still doing this, still learning, getting saltier every day which at least as a slang term I can enjoy using and that is a small victory, I suppose.

See you next year.

0 CommentsLeave a comment

Dear Portlandia, screw you.

Some people may be reading this because of the series Portlandia. I personally cannot stand the thing’s existence. It used to be my spot reserved for stuff like South Park or Family guy, but I have never felt more insulted of my home then watching an episode of what some people call a satire.

I have even had some people want me to calm down, and take it for the comedy it is supposed to be. The problem is that if it does not make me laugh then it is not comedy to me, it is people taking a subject close to my heart and makign themselves look like utter fools with it.

What if someone made a show about everyone in San Francisco was a bunch of overly emotional nymphomaniac with sever mental disorders. I bet some would laugh, but some would still be insulted because somewhere where they may have established close friendships or found their loved one, made memories is being turned in to the butt of bad jokes.

Now, some may think I am overly serious. Most likely that is true, but I am not against the idea of a show like Portlandia, but the comedy that is supposed to make the reflection upon oneself go smoothly is rough and feels painful. I have tried watching it and fans I have spoke with have said it gets better I just can’t spare another moment of time nor a modicum of my remaining energies to try and understand this.

You want comedy in Portland, how about a transvestite putting a smack down on three gang members on a night Max from Chinatown. Cooks trying to backstab each other for horribly paid positions because a lot of them are just damn good at what they do. How the service industry in the city could double as a minute militia if the city was ever deemed dry by one of the dimwitted politician or social justice group. How strikes shut everything down or just piss people off when one group has barbecues to get their point across by giving away burgers and fries so people listen. Each of those could be funny, but just the way it is delivered needs to show the good and the bad which maybe they changed from the parts and episodes I tried to watch but it just looked like insulting garbage taking the best parts of a city and mocking them because of one reason for another.

If you like it, then great, but for the whole series of Portlandia, 

Screw you.

 

1 CommentLeave a comment

Shattered Reflections – Rough Draft Excerpt

Storm Brewing

Trying to think of what was going on over the next few days, the girls still held on my mind because they both stated that joining them would be the best move for me. There was other things that soon took my attention. I was in the car before I knew what happened while the street lights passing by as we made our way to the motor hotel. Spring break had just started leaving the town nearly empty while we took our bags up filled with what we could pack right then. My bag had enough stuff in it to entertain myself more about catching Mewtwo that kept me from falling asleep.

Janet had made a comment about Pops touching them. My brother had it happen as well. There were moments where flames were in my eyes. These actions occurred when I was at a friends, and my mother allowed it. Turning to her sitting on the bed I had to ask.

“What was the point of coming here if you heard about this and did nothing for a week?” My volume was higher then expected.

It would not have surprised me if the room next door could hear. Fuck’ em was my thought because Madre just sat there on the bed looking at her hands telling how we needed the money he brought in for everything. Really needing that money was not a reason that added up to scratch in my mind. My mother allowed a week without telling me. She had taken effort to make sure I was not to be told. After my knockout she was afraid my response would have me in a cop car. The whole thing was crap in my eyes. The Cozies were a family that I had taken a lot of time after helping her son out of a couple spots. They also had a fair grasp of things. I had to leave from this situation because it was clear they did not want my help with anything.

Sarah, their mother has had to see me tape myself up on a few occasions. Mom had asked her not to tell the cops while I was spending the nights at their place after I got back from Sean’s. Giving the excuse that they needed a little time to put affairs in order financially before he got sent out. What they told them was just based off the physical abuse against me.

Being corrected on the actual relations on the next night over there that Pops was in hot water made them feel played. They were feeling played, and that was started by my mother making sure that no one else would know. It was only after they talked again, and assured that he would stand trial provided that Sarah gave the week they originally agreed on. After that shouting match she had with mom over the phone Sarah had made her way to the couch where I was sitting that night after my friend had gone to sleep. Wondering where everything was at in my life made me just feel numb.

My friend never had to fight for his friends, or for his own life. He never had to bandage himself up, clean the blood out of his hair, or check older injuries. Part of me just broke down in that living room crying in a throw pillow to quiet the sobs. Up to this point I never got to let myself cry much. Everything was just too hard to find time to decompress for a period of time. There was always a danger, a fight, a problem, a knife in the back, gang problems, and now the family situation. Between all the problems that was piled on it was just an effort not breaking down. On that couch with the room half dark the years of pain finally had to let go, and it was the first time since the week after Sylvia’s death that I cried. Sarah really felt sorry for me as I cried while I just felt sorry for crying.

Going back to my house Madre did not want to say anything. Their friends would not say anything. From past experience the police would not believe someone like me. I didn’t have the power to make them listen. Then it came to me. I did not have the power to make the police listen, but maybe someone else did. Letting the idea roll over in my head it was clear that time had to be of the essence, and if they would not tell me the first time things had happened then my family could not be informed of my efforts. Despite some people not liking it this was one of those things that had to be done.

School was one of the few places where saying anything that the communication would travel up the chain to go uninterrupted. My health class was starting soon which would also give me access to possible resources or avenues of research in case any other skills would have to be demonstrated health wise.

When we had gotten back it took a little time to find my spine after the class period that day to explain the situation. Wondering where do I go with the information where it can’t be intercepted. Madre would want everything in house, but this time there was not going to be any change or mercy. Pops had to go for what he did for if any justice existed then he would have to pay for what he had done. Miss Logan said it was brave to do such things while I explained that it was more of a vengeance thing. True to her word the teacher made sure the word was not intercepted, but Pops was a couple days from collecting retirement from the military. His pleas to stay that way they could collect it gave him time to put his affairs in order. That week was hell in it’s own right.

0 CommentsLeave a comment

Nervous but Intrigued -Personal

Part of me is scared. I hit my head hard enough that I had a nice little ride to the emergency room. My balance seems like it is getting worse, but I cannot let this whole thing turn me into a hermit while there is so much to do, and there are still so many questions. Why did I gain 120 lbs in a week and not go up a size. Why is my balance and my back and shoulders shot to hell? Why do my limbs go numb for hours at a time making it harder to use them?

I have had to retrain my body to do things. I cannot cook like I want to without risking cuts or burns. If it wasn’t for the callouses my hands would look like charcoal by now, and all this bothers me because I felt I was so good at things. Despite how hard I pushed it was only looking back that the progress was seen. I hated how slow it went, but on the rare glances back I would have that monet of fleeting happiness before the next challenge lined up.

Some people said I was emotionally running away. I think it was more running to something. I always felt like my time had passed without me knowing, and since then I have felt like I have been in a constant battle against time. Not in the sake of life and death, but just getting that little bit more experience before moving to the next part of life that we all must face leaving this world to whatever is next. I guess it wouldn’t be a fight against the clock, but against the thought of total failure then now that I’m trying to put the thoughts to keyboard.

Rushing from one goal to another like I’m an old warrior looking fora fight, this way will not do me well to have it continue. That is where the intrigue comes in because I evolve to suit my conditions fairly well and I think it will get to the point soon because I am not just going to roll over and give it up. When I was 320 I could hit hard enough to break heavy bags enough to almost be banned from a gym after the third fix even off my bad leg I could stil do leg presses for reps at 600 which is not my original weight at about 900, but after a few years without trying to keep up with it you will lose some ability without bringing it back up.

I am intrigued to see where this wil leave me because maybe if I can get the balance things sorta settled maybe speed and endurance should be my next targets physically. After you train long enough in one thing it seems to stick better, and even now if I had to I could throw my weight around still it just cant happen so much since my balance has been shot so has my endurance or stamina. Still it may just be time to redesign myself with this new issues in mind, rebuild myself to the best of my ability before reclaiming what I think should be mine so to speak.

0 CommentsLeave a comment

Writing Time (nano book) – Rough Draft

Paul was laughing like he was out of it to begin with while Jake had told me if he see’s one more email about someone’s special little angel he is going to have an aneurysm. What we had gotten from the computers was a majority of useless emails about different buildings meetings, inspections, who is screwing who, and enough details to make sure I will never send anything personal on a work email again.

Seriously, who could think that sending half dirty messages to their coworkers for a tryst would be a good idea. From their faces after I had asked the answer seemed to be that a lot of people thought it was a grand old idea that only made Jake rub his temples asking when people would be the species they should before walking in to the isles to check where everything stood. Being set on their path for the night the little bots were doing there thing leaving what was left to be pored over by the three of us as we began to understand a step by step process of how some people should not work in an office building. E-mails about kids, sex lives, dinner dates, and whatever else you readers could think up polluted what we grabbed making what information we could glean something of an oasis in a landfill. Three of us on what was left made it easier to burn through them with little fanfare except for a great more understanding how people could be sympathetic to the villains in the comics.

After all of that was done my voice was full of salt and vinegar wondering. Jake had gotten his mood up a little bit more when there was some serious meetings from the higher ups flying in to inspect how everything was going.

“You ever think we should just stop this company for what it is doing to their workers. Cripes, a little perspective does matters on one’s mood just try to work here with all this going on. Would you like to work with us, No, that’s a fate worse then death it’s a miracle how these people seriously do not go bonkers from all of this.”

We had to laugh at all of it because just the way his voice first was normal before dropping to sound like an overweight Colonel Sanders before coming back up with the care of a man truly wondering what was going on had all of us nearly on the floor. It summed up how were feeling watching all the little pieces of their lives while our own problems hung over us. The mail was already opened while the emails soon were replaced with the packages of paperwork fell from the top of the cut envelopes sitting there like a beast ready to drain any fun from the moment.

Advertising some service or item there seemed to be more information that Jake found interesting so has soon as something looked or at least when he craned his long form over my shoulder from his seat he would just get the mail handed over. Claiming some from Paul’s pile it was clear he was on to something that neither one of us wanted to derail him from having the majority of the pile he seemed to be on a train of thought that would at least excuse Paul and myself while we made sure everything was going as it should be with the little bots. It was something to do that helped us talk about what other things they had found when it came to possibilities from what the info could be used for.

From the deli we could barely get to the stove without me running my elbow in to a stack of woks that seemed dirty from the oil in the bottom. It looked like a teaspoon had been left in them when it was explained how with woks sometimes that is done to keep the seasoning on them.

“With some pans, and iron skillets are included they will actually oil it lightly right after cleaning it by hand to keep the seasoning on it. Seasoning means deeper flavor when you use it again. While these guys also look to be a touch lazy about how they do it.”

Draining the excess it was clear that someone in the wok area couldn’t do a thing. It may have been a day where someone else was needed to work the station. Coming from day shift he was surprised to know that sometimes people were just put in to position to work the hours before the proper person came back the next day. Talking up a storm he had wanted to make a stir fry and some fried rice with the left overs in the walk in. How he would get in and out of there without a key was a question I didn’t want to ask. It was clear that if anyone noticed, then no one cared about it because while on the day shift nothing was said about these woks being used or supplies being missing.

Jake must have smelled the food coming his way as we made our way to the break room he had come slightly disheveled. His hair was flipped back showing both eyes in a look of spirited fire that seemed to spell something dismal for Paul as he met that look with a back step.

“No, no, no,no,no, no. I am not going back to do anything with any idea you have floating between your ears right now. That is the look of trouble, that is the look, look we have fried rice with ham, and a nice stir fry, don’t you want to eat first before you get us all in to trouble. After the past few nights we could use a break.”

“Walker will be here tomorrow. I already called him and we have something we need to go over then.”

Our eyes widened at the fact that the man on vacation would be here tomorrow while he would still be off the clock with something that had to be communicated with us. Gazing at how the fried rice looked he soon pulled the container still steaming from my hands before heading off to the break room. The stir fry would be good, but that rice was mine too.

“Seriously that look,is either meaning we have something great or we are all com-plete-ly screwed and he has flipped his lid.”

0 CommentsLeave a comment

Shattered Reflections Excerpt

Stealing For Charity

I was part of student congress. Do not ask me how I managed to do it even with all the fights. What gets me even more was I had to be elected from my Japanese class to do it. They had to fill the seat with someone and no one wanting to do it left me with it pretty easily one would think. Anyway each after school club had a different amount of fundraiser they could run in a year. Japanese club had used their only one for a can and bottle drive as summer became fall. Prime time for that sort of thing with plenty of return one would think. ASB was the group in charge of scheduling everything from within the school while also having the right as a club to plan a half dozen different fundraisers for things like prom, letterman jackets, and whatever else was so much flappery.

ASB had a habit of taking money from other clubs because Mr. Sullivan was the teacher in charge of student congress as well as the ASB club. When a club wanted to do something for a fundraiser they would have to let the congress knew who would have to vote on it and let Mr. Sullivan put it on the schedule. The point of all this was to make there was not a whole lot of competition allowing the best possible amount to be gotten with each fundraiser.

Thinking further head then other clubs Mrs. Grey tried to get as much funds as possible to lower the cost of the Japanese exchange program. More of the money we would collect here would lower the remainder that would be paid for them later. There wasn’t a chance in blue hell of going myself, but it was for a good cause and I wanted people to enjoy the trip.

Running both parties Mr. Sullivan also thought he would OK a fundraiser of a can drive a week before ours after one day of time between ASB and student congress Sullivan sent the request and congress Sullivan approved it request while everyone else had to give at least two weeks notice. That two weeks notice was fair because it allowed us to advertise further making sure the one shot we got were made the most of. ASB scooping the cans before we could collect was a grimy move, and after finding out where the cans were being held at made it clear that some imaginative reclaiming plans had to be committed to.

Edward and Tiny were up and Tiny’s brother decided to give us a ride with his truck. After figuring out the plan one of their friends confirmed the exact location of the cans at the bison ranch with the rest of the family out at a convention for a few days leaving just my fellow student. We all agreed on how to take back the stolen funds that were already bagged up for our pleasure.

Starting that night the weather was good while were in the back while Tiny’s brother drove the truck. The night was cool while not being uncomfortable with a bright full moon in the sky which in this case was a positive. Buildings dotted the compound giving a lot of dark corners to hide in. We all knew that the guy in the house would not give a shit searching because not a whole lot of people would fuck with a bison ranch. Police were out in the boonies an hour away leaving us with a nice opening to move in case everything goes sour. We made our way from different sides in the case that one of us being spotted didn’t mean we were all busted. There was going to be a patrol ATV making us at least careful enough to listen when hiding.

Bison are really gentle creatures provided you make sure they know you are not a threat. I know this because my path took through the animal pen and unknowingly the rock I was hiding behind when the ATV had come was warm and furry. Having my back to it after putting the pieces together the bison that was sleeping opened one eye to look at me. Seeing a high school student with face paint in kabuki ribbon style with camouflage colors; we had all done different designs to get in the spirit of things. Snorting for a minute part of me wondered if it was laughing at me or just wondering who was dumb enough to rest against a sleeping bison, but it went back to sleep with nary a care in the world. Not one creature in that pen cared to move when I needed to make my way out.

When we got to the door of the utility shed the lights in the house had just gone off. Edward was last of us to show up remarking how bison crap seemed to stink to high heaven. Calling our truck in there was a span of five minutes where the occasional dog barking would remind us this was technologically still a crime. Loading up the bed with our reclaimed prize we transferred it over Ed’s place where his mother surprisingly let us hold it no questions asked, as long as we were sticking it to Sullivan.

His club moaned stating how the perpetrators would be brought to justice. Some were even happy to see him and me at student congress, but it isn’t about what you know, it is about the evidence. None of which on the bags of cans could be traced to us when we put them forth as my own donation we were never brought forward as the evil crew. The Japanese club had to wonder how despite seeing me drink all the soda that all those large bags would be coming from one person.

0 CommentsLeave a comment

Nanowrimo 2016

So after a whole month and going down to the wire my word count is 50,743 making this year a success. In the process, I have finished both Shattered Reflections and my NaNoWriMo project from last year which has a title right now of Writing Time. That may change after some editing, and now I have decided on the next two book projects. The two finished ones will go into the editing pile while the next two are up one will be the sequel to Shattered Reflections.

Previously I may have said how I would not do it until my 30th birthday because of hearing about someone who has not lived life putting out books about life experiences seems a bit hollow. Shattered Reflections was stories about my life until the end of high school. From fights, shootings, police investigation, drug pushers, problem solvers, and I kept it to just about 66k words that it way it does not over stay its welcome. The sequel will be kept at about the same length and it has plenty of experiences to go in it including but not limited to college blacklists, lawyer payoffs, cooking on mountains, casino wins and losses, lawsuits, family drama, being lit on fire, fights, city fights, bad jobs, bad management and more. I always found a way to get into situations that most people hadn’t or shouldn’t but at least that will make it interesting.

Right now the big project is to as was said in a much earlier one have a dozen book projects before moving forward and it looks like there will be an almost even number between the two.

Time Wars is the project based on the media and audiences evolution over the past hundred years to present day as well as some theories on what the next hundred years could hold. It is the project currently up and I am aiming for about 80k word length, and of course allowing it if needs it or not. After the political cycle, I have found there is plenty there to write about with not a whole lot of people to do the writing. After that is the sequel to Shattered Reflections, and after that a Young Adult Fiction project. The card game is still dragging along and overall just things are getting there. Hopefully, I will have a better year coming up then I did before.

 

0 CommentsLeave a comment

Short Update

I had some recent problems that cracked my spirit a bit bu I managed to get within 4k words. it is so close that it could be done provided I get one more day of good rest which seems to escape me.

Recently my father, who has been helping me out as my condition worsens as been touted as someone living at the apartment despite him driving to and fro almost every day. On top of that, there was a recent letter telling us we had to leave on December the 1st because of it. It had to take three different people telling them that a provision in their contract is against city law especially on what accounts for a guest. Their determination to keep with their contract despite it impacting what the city counts as renters rights.

Far be it for anyone to actually read the law. It is hard enough to fact check them because many times when you ask for a copy of the contract they will not give you one until it is signing time and they rush you through as soon as possible. We are still doing the channel when the living conditions get hammered out which may be in a fair amount of time. Where things stand now, I can still record portions of it as well as work harder on my writing and be learning to make art from the computer.

I am going to try and sleep once again.

0 CommentsLeave a comment