This site is a testament to not only my life but to the insanity of society. Dive into Psycho Carnival and you'll find tragicomic personal stories, wild yet honest rants, a little depravity, videos and a buttload of other goodies.

This site also contains adult like humor and ideas that could make you think. Consider yourself warned!

Monday, May 31, 2010

Your Favorite Nursery Rhymes

All Around The Mulberry Bush

All around the mulberry bush
I decided to chase a weasel
This monkey thought 'twas all in fun
When he tore off the head of the weasel

A penny for a mule's head
A penny for a weasel's
That's the way the economy is
Goddamn regular gas is so high right now
Might as well be using diesel

Up and down the Shitty Road I go
I'm pumping in and out of the weasel
Couldn't find a ho to give me a blow
Now Pop! goes the weasel

Higglety Pigglety

Higglety, pigglety, my friend Gwen
This bitch spreads her slop hole for all the goddamn men
Gentlemen come every day
To see how many my friend Gwen doth lay
Sometimes nine, and sometimes ten
Higglety, pigglety, my friend Gwen


Come To The Window

Come to the window
My baby, with me
And look at the stars
That shine on the sea!
Break out the bong
We'll sing a song
I'll bend you over
And ram in my schlong
I see two little fish
Far down in the deep
I see lots of things now
This is
good creep weed
Cry "Neap, neap, neap
Have no fucking reason why
Latch your hands onto that window sill
As I cream your sweet cherry pie

Diddle Diddle Dumpling

Diddle, diddle, dumpling
My retarded son, John
Went to bed
With his trousers on
So I went into his room
Dent his head in with a broom
Diddle, diddle dumpling
John's now in a tomb

Fee Fie Foe Fum

Fee Fie Foe Fuck
I smell the odor of an English schmuck
Be he 'live, or be he dead,
I'll grind his cojones and run him over with my truck

I Love Little Pussy

I love a little pussy
Especially when it's wet
And if I don't hurt her
She won't be a threat
So I'll not pull on her clit
Nor make her take any abusive shit
And that little pussy of hers
Very gently, I will hit

Georgie Porgie

Georgie Porgie, puddin' and pie
Kissed the boys and made the peter puffers cry
When the boys came out of the closet
All happy and gay
Georgie Porgie attacked them from behind
Put a bag over their heads
And had all of them filleted

With his goddamn butcher knife
Damn sick fuck, that Georgie

John Jingle Jingleheimer Shits

John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt
His name is my name, too!
Whenever we go out
The people always shout
"You fuckers have the same name, goddamnit!"

Jack Be Nimble

be nimble
Jack, be quick
Jack tried jumping naked over a huge bonfire
And burnt his goddamn prick

Then Jack jumped high
Then Jack jumped low
Then Jack fell into the fire
Received third degree burns
Losing all of his toes

And his prick
What a dumbass!

On Top of Spaghetti

top of my woody
I have a disease
I lost my poor meatballs
Due to aids and herpes
That fucking slut Gwen
She's the Queen of all Sleaze
Because of her rancid coochie
I now pee through a tube
I wish I could stab her
It might make me feel good

Hokey Pokey

You put your right foot in
You put your right leg out
You hook your right fist in

And you punch him in the face

You do the Hokey-Pokey

And you slit his goddamn throat
That's what it's all about!

You put your left foot in
You put your left foot out
You put your left foot in

And you turn yourself around,
Quickly firing off your bazooka
Decimating all of your enemies
That's what it's all about!


First, Gary Coleman and now, Dennis Hopper. That sucks. "Watchoo talkin' about, Willis?"

Friday, May 28, 2010

Man Quits Job To Realize Dream

Matt Green is an inspiration.

Thirty year old Matt Green worked as a civil engineer, a roadway designer, ironically, to quit his job to walk across America, a roughly 3,100 mile journey to a destination in Oregon. For Matt Green, there's just something about the act of walking that makes him happier than he ever would have been in his workplace cubicle in New York. In that cubicle, he used to daydream about doing something epic like this.

As he pushes his cart full of clothes, food and other gear, people often stop to ask him during his trek why he's doing it. Is it a fundraiser? Is he looking to break a record? Is it for any particular cause. The answer is no to all of the above.

"Good questions," he has replied.

Reflecting on his mundane life in Manhattan, inside his workplace cubicle, Matt says, "Playing it safe isn't really that safe. If you do that, you miss out on a lot of the great things life has to offer."

For months, Matt lived frugally in order to save up enough money and buy the supplies need to make his simple quest a reality. Along the way from Rockaway Beach in New York to Rockaway Beach, Oregon, people have offered him shelter, meals and money to realize his dream. He has seen many remarkable, beautiful sights and has met many charitable, interesting and kind people during his trek so far.

For the record, he has been walking his route for 63 days, thus far- with about 7 more months of walking to go.

You can check out his website, I'm Just Walkin', to read details of his experiences and to look at the photos of the people and the scenes he experiences every day.

How many of us would dare to walk away from our routine lives to live out a dream that we have only mused about in our normally stagnate existence? I know I've thought about doing something so grand and adventurous.

While working horrible jobs in hot, uncomfortable factories and filthy warehouses in the past, I would often search for a window to look out of for a chance that my mind could escape to somewhere I could call sanctuary for just a moment. Many places I worked at, there were no windows. As well as no air conditioning or reprieve from the hectic pace we were all expected to move at.

One such place, Mubea, was an automotive parts factory/warehouse. They manufactured stabilizer bars, suspensions and other similar parts for cars and trucks. It was the hottest, dirtiest and most unsafe place I've ever worked at. You would work next to dangerously hot ovens and assembly lines, receiving only two ten minute breaks throughout a nine and a half hour work day. After working at Mubea for five years, if you survived that long, you would be awarded a twenty minute lunch break during your working days.

Glowing red parts would pop out of the huge steel oven doors and you would be expected to grab them off of the above hanging assembly lines, wearing lightly protective gloves, to hurriedly put them on metal racks to be later shipped off to god knows where. The stench of the place, no matter where you were stationed, was overwhelming. A true sweat shop and hell hole with no windows, open or closed, to peer out of.

Everyone working there carried an expression on their face that seemed to be begging for a means of escape or quick death. Nearly everyone working there smoked and smoked their cigarettes until they hacked up black phlegm and gasped for air that was filled with paint and metal fumes. This often caused me to wonder if they were intentionally trying to kill themselves in order to leave anyway they could, only bound there to feed their families.

I withstood all the chaos and the inhuman environment that Mubea offered for roughly two months and left, never looking back.

When I could, while there, I would fantasize about being somewhere clean and a destination, whether in my mind or actual location, where I could feel at peace. A place like the Caribbean Islands- my destination this summer.

There was a scene in the movie, "Joe Vs. The Volcano" with Tom Hanks, that actually inspired me to take this upcoming cruise out on the ocean waters.

If you've never seen the movie, I'll give you a brief description of the scene.

Hanks' character, for almost the entire movie, mistakenly believes he is dying. Later we find out he was tricked by a greedy businessman in order for Hanks to willingly throw himself into a volcano. This movie is a comedy but it also has a lot of life's truths in it. To this day, I have no idea why this movie got mixed to bad reviews by the critics.

Anyway, the scene is this: Hanks is on a raft made of huge suitcases, out in the middle of the ocean. It is night time. He has been slowly dying of thirst for days. Meg Ryan's character is unconscious, lying off to his side. He has kept her alive by giving her small cap fulls of water each day. Suddenly the moon, huge in scope, is seen rising above the horizon of the water. Tom's character stands up, completely in awe of this wondrous sight, at complete peace and serenity with himself and the world around him. It's one of the most goddamn inspiring scenes I've ever witnessed in a movie and it's always been a secret fantasy of mine to see such a sight on the ocean waters.

Hopefully, I will. Hopefully, everyone can be taken in and enchanted by such an experience sometime during their lives. I think Matt Green, from New York, has the right idea. I wish him nothing but the best.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Stuff Is Messed Up and My Hands Are, Too

Whether you care for the music of The Offspring or not, you'll have to agree with the message of the lyrics of this song- of which I've provided below the humorous video.

In case you're wondering why I've been putting up so many video posts lately and slacking off with posting new stuff, in general... It's because my hands are "messed up"- my fingers, in particular. I've got these little goddamn blisters on my fingertips from something called Dyshidrotic Eczema. It hurts like fuck to type.

Moving on, I went to the doctor today, for my quarterly glucose testing appointment (for my diabetes), where four vials of blood are sucked out of my hand (not my arm, since they can never find a visible vein there). Anyway, while I was there, I showed him/told him all of my recent maladies which included the tumor on my foot, the rash on my belly and legs and the fact I can't get it up anymore unless I stretch the fucker out and use a goddamn skin splint. Tasty pain! Zippity-Yippity. And if you're thinking I actually use a skin splint on my pecker, you're a goddamn idiot.

So many different little side effects from having diabetes and high blood pressure, so little time on Earth to enjoy them all.

Now, bear in mind, I'm trying to explain all of my latest problems while my blood sugar reading is at 61. I tested my blood before going to the doctor today after taking my pill and plunging a syringe full of insulin into my rashy belly. 61. That's a horribly low reading. A blood sugar reading of 61 causes you to be quite fuzzy in the brain to the point where your speech is slurred and you forget shit and stand a good chance of hitting the floor face first. Luckily, the last one didn't happen.

The reason I had a reading of 61 was because I have to fast for 8-12 hours before glucose testing at the doctor's office, besides having to take my 8 different pills and insulin, in order for them to get an accurate reading. I hate having to explain all of this to you lucky non-diabetic fuckers out there but I will... because, of course, I care a lot.

Even though I didn't fall face first during the doctor visit, I did try to squeeze out a fart waiting for the doctor to come in and accidentally squirt some milk-chocolaty looking shit in my underwear. Do I have good times or what? But it didn't end there. After taking off my shoe and sock for the doctor and explaining all the skin crap going on with me, he walks out and comes back in with a little baggie of hard-on pills and several prescriptions for my skin ailments. After that, I go into the bathroom to clean out my undies and an old fat guy walks in.

He shouts, "Oh! Oh! Oh My!"

I say, "What the fuck?"

He leaves promptly. Yes, that's right. I forgot to lock the goddamn, fucking door.

Why? Because I can not think properly with a blood sugar reading of 61, you lucky non-diabetic fuckers!

I say this with much love, respect and shit. Enjoy the video. My fingers are bleeding.


all rights to offspring

Now, I don't know and its hard to explain, but it seems like things are just kind of insane because the world is crying but nobodys listening so please leave a message on my cell phone

I see bullets getting better Biblical weather
And the guy on T.V. is like a total asshole
What are you wearing tonight?
Celebrity fundraiser tight Blackties making wrongs right How's your social bandaid?

I don't know much
I don't know too much
But I know this
Shit is fucked up
La, La, La La, La
I guess it's all about the dream
La, La, La La, La
The ends justify the means
La, La, La La, La La La
I'm telling you
Shit is fucked up

La, La, La La, La
You know it's all about the dream
La, La, La La, La
The ends justify the means
La, La, La La, La La La

Now thank God for the media
For saving the day
Puting it all into perspective in a responsible way
With more celebrity news Typical bullshit views
I think we're losing this fight sponsored by Bud Light

Now we're rockin' the casbah
And taking the flack
The genie's out of the bottle
And we can't put him back (put him back)
All this stuff
It's overwhelming my brain
Can't you see the storm coming
It's coming this way

And I don't know much
I don't know too much
But I know this
Shit is fucked up

La, La, La La, La
I guess it's all about the dream
La, La, La La, La
The ends justify the means
La, La, La La, La La La
I'm telling you
Shit is fucked up

La, La, La La, La
You know it's all about the dream
La, La, La La, La
The ends justify the means
La, La, La La, La La La Justify the means

Shopping Sprees, RPG's
Pimp my ride
Injustice everywhere
I don't care
Climate change

Therapy, I won't tell
Rehab and LOL
Worldwide calamity
TV Reality
Euthanize, supersize
Death squads and boob jobs
VIP infamy
Gratify instantly

I dont know much
I dont know too much
I dont know much
I dont know too much

La, La, La La, La
I guess its all about the dream
La, La, La La, La
The ends justify the means
La, La, La La, La La La
I'm telling you
Shit is fucked up

La, La, La La, La
You know it's all about the dream
La, La, La La, La
The ends justify the means
La, La, La La, La La La
The means, the means

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Gored Through The Neck

Several days ago a bull fighting match took place that ended badly. The bull ended up being killed. But, at least, the bull got to score one for the rest of his animal brethren by goring the matador through the neck. Looking at the slow motion playback of this clip, you can clearly see the bull's horn puncture the fucker's neck and go up out through his mouth. The matador lived but needed extensive surgery. Sadly, they killed the bull.

What's more pathetic is that they still have spectacles like this where animals are tortured and killed for the viewing pleasure of a cheering audience. I don't get it.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Disturbing Neighbor and The Attention Needy

My neighbor that lives below us in our apartment complex is likely the worst one we've had in the ten to twelve years we've lived up here on the hill.

Not only is he annoying and disturbing, but he has that bad boy, punk ass, "gangsta" look about him. He has made it clear he is a bully and is possibly physically abusive to the woman and little girl who lives with him.

I'll get back to this douchebag in a minute but first I have to say....

It hurts me to utter or write the word "gangsta" because it's not a real word, but instead, something rappers and rap fans made up to make themselves sound tougher than they actually are. "Gangsta", which I'm guessing is supposed to mean gangster or some other similar tough guy nonsense, sounds silly to me.

In fact, anyone who tries that hard to impress me with their toughness or supposed uniqueness ends up making me shake my head. This especially goes for people who stick lots of metal jewelry into their skin or cover themselves with too many tattoos or black eye liner or wear their pants almost down to their knees.

I feel like saying, "Yeah, you're such an individual. How unique you must be. I get it." Or.... "Gee, what a statement you're attempting to make. I'm so impressed with your supposedly extreme, attention getting appearance, I'm clearly shaken by it all or, at the very least, popping a boner with excitement or whatever. Now, go away!"

At first, people like this made me laugh. Then I found them to be mildly entertaining. But as the years go by and I grow older, I find that they just bore the fuck out of me with their desperate need to get my attention or show that they are so much more different than the rest of us. Pure Silliness. Futility in action.

Hey, do you want to show me how unique you are, Numb Nuts? Talk to me and let me in on your thoughts or your true persona. Better yet, show me who you really are through your actions. No swaggering or over-the-top conduct, please. Just the real you.

There were real gangsters in the 1920's to 1940's in America. These were true criminals. Like Al Capone, for instance. Not that these true criminals have any more redeeming value than today's gangster wannabes in the rap industry, poverty-stricken districts and ghetto areas.

I guess you could call someone a gangster that belongs in a street gang. But that's really stretching it a bit for me. To me, they are just common street thugs, dealing drugs, involving themselves in petty crimes and sometimes committing violent acts. They have many excuses for needing to belong in these gangs and will usually acquire their money by doing anything but getting a real job and earning their money.

But getting back to my equally worthless neighbor....

He also wears the droopy pants, has tattoos all over his body and does the "tough" talk routine. Never before have we had someone (or something) like that living in our apartment complex in the years we've lived here.

More importantly, this gangster wannabe screams at the woman and little girl that lives below with him. He shouts at them in the parking lot, too, for all to see. I also hear a lot of thumping and banging down below. I can't say for sure if he's physically abusing the little girl but it wouldn't surprise me that much if I found out for certain.

My wife says the front door below, that sits below our stairwell, is broken at the top, where the metal arm thing was attached, because of him. My wife says she thought she saw him pushing his girlfriend so hard against the door one day, that the force of her shoved body caused the door to break free from the wooden frame above. Earlier that same day, she could hear what sounded like them arguing back and forth below us. The door is, indeed, unhinged at the top and I'll be calling our landlord soon to fix that.

This barely human turd also allows the little girl to drive her plastic tricycle all around the parking lot, not keeping a watchful eye on her half the time. With how busy our parking lot can be, this poses a real danger. On one occasion, I've seen him pull his car into the lot and the little girl looked like she was hanging halfway out of the passenger side of the car. At my angle of sight, I couldn't tell for sure if she was wearing a seat belt or not, but it still looked pretty wrong to me.

Whenever, I see the woman living below us, she is never friendly and, in fact, appears nervous, like she's hiding something. This is conjecture on my part, of course. There are also some unscrupulous looking types of people, "friends" of his who visit him time to time. Maybe they are decent people. I don't know for sure so I'm not going to assume -but all of these things put together make me a little nervous, myself.

Another bothersome activity this asshole likes to engage in, every so often, is thumping on our floor/his ceiling if we turn the volume up on our TV above the 25 mark. Not that loud, really, when you take into consideration that our TV goes all the way up to 100. We've had around five different neighbors living below us in the nearly dozen years we've lived up here and we've never had any complaints before -from neighbors or landlords.

Yes, I know. We should have called the landlord already for a variety of reasons. The couple of reasons I haven't done this so far are this:

1- I don't like to get people that live close to me in trouble. Usually, this will cause trouble for the complainer (me, in this case) and will sometimes result in having your car tires punctured or some other retaliation by the bothersome neighbor. Since I have a bad temper and am easily stressed out, I may do something even more stupid to him. I have my very weak and shaky emotional moments and then, on the other side of the coin, I have my super-motherfucker-I'm-going-to-fucking-kill-you kind of moments in these situations. I can be extreme, either way. And neither one of those ways is not good, I know.

2- Even though our most recent landlord is a cop, he's doesn't seem to care about when tenants complain about other tenants -even if it may concern a serious issue. One tenant, who talks to my wife, fairly frequently, alerted our cop landlord that she thought a person who had just moved into the apartment complex was a thief. He told her that he didn't care as long as he paid the rent on time. This tells me that he may not give a good shit when I tell him about the neighbor below us.

I don't know for sure what will happen next with this guy but I have a feeling I'm going to be forced to call the landlord and make a complaint or several complaints about him. I just hope it doesn't backfire -for our sake and if he pisses me off too much -for his sake. I don't want to go to jail over this gangster wannabe.

Besides, that would put a damper on my all-too-important cruise this summer. Ha ha. Good golly, I hate fuckin' bullies and other tough talking pieces of shit. How about you?

Friday, May 14, 2010

Funniest Video You'll Ever See

Short but sweet.

Song About Society And Greed

Eddie Vedder's song about society and greed. I haven't watched the movie, "Into The Wild" yet because I've heard and read that the main character dies. I don't care much for movies like that due to what I've been through in the past.

But now, in my present state of mind, I'd like to watch it because I've read that it's an inspirational movie about really living outside the constraints of today's society. If anyone reading this post has ever watched this flick or heard this song, let me know what you think. I'd really like to know.

Bad Hair

Sometimes the wifey complains about my hair before we go out in public. Since I'm not into the vanity and superficial thing about appearances, I don't care that much how I appear to people. People, in general, are far too worried about such trivial matters.

Now, I won't go so far as to leave my dick hangin' out of my pants before we go into a restaurant... but when it comes to having everything perfectly adjusted (hair, clothes, stray booger sticking out of my nose, etc) on my non-perfect self, I really don't think it's that important.

Looking good for the ignorant, unworthy masses is just NOT a high priority for me. They don't deserve such effort on my part. In fact, they should be overly delighted and tickled pink that I even take notice of their existence.

Besides, I don't think my hair looks that bad. It could be worse. At least I don't look like this...

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

The Melancholy Roller Coaster Ride

WARNING: The following post will not contain much cheeriness, weirdness, excitement, humor or depravity. It will, however, contain gloominess, discoveries, introspection and a happy ending. Sound like fun? And by "happy ending", I do not mean hand job.

If you can handle the above, read on. If ya can't, hit the road and sing "Zippity-Fuckin'- Doo- Dah" until you get plowed down and crushed by a semi-truck.

Eh, just kidding. No, I'm not. Now Kelly, if somebody doesn't want to read about some asshole's recent, boring bout of depression and they would rather move on to some other asshole's overly perky, happy-go-fuckin'-lucky, somewhat superficial blogger's blog, then that's their damn business.

Ah, now I'm talking to myself again. Great. Then I'll answer myself, next, shouting loudly. Not only does this freak the cats out but this type of behavior allows me to be a big hit at parties.

As I've mentioned before, this blog acts as part of my therapy. I sometimes write negative shit down (feelings) and throw it up on Psycho Carnival as a way of getting rid of those bad thoughts that have been weighing me down. Most of the time, it gives me relief.

I've been struggling with the idea of posting this nasty shit swirling about in my mind for as long as I've been feeling deeply depressed- which has been almost a month. I've been struggling with this-not because I cared so much about turning certain readers off with my onslaught of depressing thoughts, but because, in a way, when you write down that stuff, you're kinda reliving it in your head again.

But, then again, writing it down acts a release valve most of the time so- we'll see how this goes.

The only reason I'm able to convey my thoughts NOW, at last, is because I had my first decent day (two days ago) in awhile. It gave me the push forward I needed from this morass of depression. Eventually, I'll get to that. Hang with me, friends.

3 things have put me on The Melancholy Roller Coaster Ride. Here they are:

Friends To The North

For nearly 30 years, I've known these friends. We were a close tight-knit group for twenty of those years. We grew up together in the same strung-together small towns. We're in our mid to late forties now. One of them saved me from drowning at Lake Michigan. Of course, I'm forever in his debt for that and for being kind enough to say the words I wrote for my mother's funeral.


For the last several years, the distance of a hundred miles between those friends and I has been easily overshadowed by the emotional distance of our relationships. Gone are the days of visits, emails and any other type of communicating. I've asked them to come down for a visit numerous times but I'm either offered one excuse after another (usually, that they're busy) or no response at all. I'm tired of trying. Plus, it's insulting. One day out of the year, maybe, I'll see them at my sister's place (she's friends with them, too) and each of those times, the experiences of the visit are filled with awkward silence or conversation of the most brain-dead, mundane and even negative kind.

When I attempt to bring a little humor into the mix, I'm given glares of contempt or looks of misunderstanding. There was a long period in our lives when we had great times together, having positive, humorous talks around the campfire, drinking, partying, singing, camping out and having a blast.

Not anymore.

Some of you reading this might conclude this is because we've grown up or grown older. This isn't the true reason we've grown apart. Even for folks who are in their forties, it is still very possible to have a good time and interesting conversations with those folks in my age group.

Another thing that bothers me on a personal level is this: Even though I've emailed these Northern friends about my blog, along with the site address, off and on, for the last 3 years- not one of them has made a comment either on the site or in an email to me. That, I don't get. That too, is insulting and hurtful. I've asked them to share their thoughts with me on any topic I've written about or to at least go to the site to just have a look and I get no response on any of it.

I have no fear of any of them seeing what I'm writing here because I know for a fact that none of my friends check out Psycho Carnival. It feels like a slap in my face, whether it's meant to be that way or not.

Friends That Live In My Area

During my depression periods, it seems that it's hardly ever one thing that gets me down in this hopeless morass of thoughts. Instead, it's usually a combination of things.

I've known the few friends I have left around here for as long as the ones that live up north. In fact, we were all part of the same group of 12 people. The friends around here are more needy, less self sufficient and don't do much or anything to improve their poor and severely lacking situation in life. Several of these people are still leeching money and anything else you can imagine from their parents in this late stage in life. Pathetic.

One friend, Marty, refuses to do any physical therapy to help with his fight against MS (Multiple Sclerosis). He was diagnosed with MS about six years ago. Unfortunately, this old friend has simply given up and says he doesn't care if he lives or not. He's perfectly content to allow the few people (including his bitch-wife) in his house to take care of his every need. Sometimes she does. Sometimes not. Either way, I've never seen him help himself in life, even before his medical condition.

Marty also refuses to confront his wife about her ongoing tradition of keeping him from seeing his friends- me or anyone else- doesn't matter to her. He admits that she does this because she is jealous that he has friends and she does not. He accepts this like a fool without balls and that pisses me off.

This woman, who controls who he can see, recently threatened my wife and I when we attempted to pick him up and have him over at our place for a few hours of something he is not accustomed to- which would be peace and a non negative environment that is both roach-free and bitch-free. His wife suddenly snuck up on me and threatened me while I was trying to help Marty in our truck a month ago. Since I suffer from hypertension and anxiety disorder, as well as Major Depression, this sudden act freaked the fuck out of me, to put it bluntly.

After threatening me on the street in front of the entire neighborhood, she continued screaming at the three of us, ranting and not making any sense. This wife of his, that I've known for years, suffers from extreme low self esteem and anger issues, needs to be put into a mental institution.

For real.

His crazy bitch of a wife has pulled this same insane act on a lot of people besides me and it doesn't matter if she's on a busy street, or a restaurant or any other public place when she's doing it. She doesn't keep him from his friends because she's afraid they won't take care of him while he's with them. She does it because she's insecure, jealous and fucking nuts. Marty, when I do see him, complains about her almost constantly but still refuses to confront her.

Is he afraid of her? That may be some of it. But to me, he has given up on his happiness and really- himself.

This and the discontinuation of seeing my old friend, Marty, has gotten me down, also. Although, he has many faults, he can be fun to be around. But with him, just like the others, he's incredibly negative. Some of that, I understand with him because of his medical condition. But most of the time, he's just that way about everything.

Another friend of mine also refuses to help himself. He won't get his driver's license and he won't get a car. Dave, if you're reading this... and I know you're not, of course, would you please get a fucking job, move out of your parent's place, get a girlfriend and get a real goddamn life instead of sitting at home and playing video games at the age of thirty? Picking your ass up every time I want to see you, at my expense, is and has been getting old for the last ten years. Stop being dependent on everyone!

Yet another friend that lives close by is crazy, too. For real. But at least he's not always negative. Him, I can tolerate. Sometimes, he can be supportive. And he's not a leech. His main fault is being super critical of anything he personally doesn't do or think. Sadly, he's the best of the lot.

Surrounded By Negative People

My immediate family, those few that are still alive, bring up negative news or views almost constantly when I'm around them. My Aunt Kay is the exception to this and she can hardly walk or move due to brain aneurysms, strokes and a car wreck. You would think she would have a negative attitude, as well, but it's not the case. My family's negativity is annoying in the least and debilitating at the most. If you're surrounded by only negative people all the time, it's hard for someone like me, with Major Depressive disorder, to be able to keep your head above the emotional waters. If it weren't for my therapist, psychiatrist and the affection and company of my two cats, not to mention my own strength, I never would have made it out of the abyss I was kept in for years by my depression and guilt over my mother's death.

Speaking of my mother's death, the days leading to Mother's Day were full of dread because Mother's Day for me serves as a reminder that she's gone. She was the glue that held the family together. She showed she cared by listening, loving, giving and being there when you needed her, no matter what. Mom had a great twisted sense of humor and was truly fun to be around. In a heartbeat, she could lift your spirits. No one can take her place. And I can't say I haven't thought about joining her. But, I refuse to give in and I continue to fight the good fight, no matter how much negativity I'm surrounded by.

Finally, Something Positive

Two things, actually. First, my sister finally found the will that mom had made out a few years before she passed. We've been looking for this for five years, ever since she died. My sister found it on Mother's Day, this last Sunday, in an old cardboard box beneath a bunch of stuff in her old room at Mom and Dad's place. She was trying to get a hold of me on the phone when I just happen to pop in to help her and Dad clean up the house. Dad's trying to sell the place and wants it to look decent for potential buyers.

It was great seeing Mom's handwriting again and how much care and thought she put into the will, making sure things were to be distributed fairly and the things that meant the most to a certain person, went to that person.

I also went fishing with my crazy friend, Steve, Monday. We had meaningful, fun conversations and we caught a freakin' boatload of fish. Mostly, Large mouth Bass. He only caught three. I, on the other hand, caught about a bazillion- because I'm just that fuckin' great a fisherman. Heh heh. Really, I am. Even with the glowing red sunburn I got on the back of my neck while fishing didn't compare to the generally positive atmosphere of the day.

These last 2 things gave me the push forward and upward emotional boost I needed. After this, I was ready to get off The Melancholy Roller Coaster Ride.

If you've read this far and accepted the post for what it is, I thank you for doing that much. The rest of you are cordially invited to go fuck yourselves.

See? I'm back to my same old charming and witty self, at last.

Take care. And remember, anytime you want to talk about whatever crap you're going through, I'm your friend. I know what it's like going through rough times and fighting to be in the realm of the content and living.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

What's The Craziest Place or Situation You've Ever Had Sexual Intercourse?

-In a FunHouse

-While Going Down The Steps On My Ass With Her In My Lap (Meat Log In Upright Position)

-Inside DisneyWorld At The Tea Cup Ride

-On Top The Dining Table At the Nursing Home Where Old Folks Ate Supper (This, I've Done)

-With a Drooling, Cross-Eyed Retard That Will Not Stop Saying, "Egg. Egg. Egg. Egg....."

-While Out Hunting Quail And Happening Upon A Grateful, Happy Wood Nymph Named Pip

-At The Grocery Store, In The Meat Dept. (Where they sometimes leave the bone inside)

-While Enjoying a Stay At The Insane Asylum With Other Inmates Watching, All Bug-Eyed

-Inside a Hot Tub Full of Hairy-Backed, Fat Asses
--- Other --- If This Is Chosen, Please Explain (We're doing an important study)

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Is This Feminist Code Speak?

Some of these "translations" I find to be humorous. Some are outlandish. Yet some are true, I believe. What do you think? By the way, I have nothing against feminism. But I do think the more militant factions of feminism do go to negative extremes by pretty much suggesting that all men are worthless, abusive shits and, by doing this, these certain factions actually hurt the cause of feminism.

These "translations" were taken from

Men seeking equal treatment = "backlash"
Women seeking equal treatment = "
Discrimination against men = "equal opportunity"
Discrimination against women = "discrimination"
A woman with grievances = "victim"
A man with grievances = "angry"
Open discussion of gender issues = "misogyny"
Men looking for equal treatment in the courts = "abuse"
Consensual sex between a man and woman = "rape"
Heated discussion between a man and woman = "domestic violence"
Women receiving preferential treatment/privileges = "equality"
A numeric majority of the human species = "minority"
Any woman = "victim"
Any man = "oppressor"
Any child = "property"
A woman talking about hating men = "empowerment"
A man talking about hating women = "hate speech"
A sexually predatory woman dressed like a hooker = "liberation"
A man with any interest in sex = "rapist"
A woman who wants to be with her children = "mother"
A man who wants to be with his children = "abuser"
A woman who forces children under her care/authority into sex = "the
child was lucky"
A man who forces children under his care/authority into sex
= "pedophile"
A shelter providing emergency services to abused women = "women's
A shelter providing any services to abused men = "prison"
Female genital mutilation = "sexual repression"
Male genital mutilation = "acceptable custom that protects women from
A man assaulting a women = "(domestic) violence"
A woman assaulting a man = "humor"
A man who beats his female partner = "batterer"
A woman who beats her male partner = "victim"
A disposable slave = "man"
A human being = "woman"
Hating women = "a crime"
Hating men = "'a viable political act'"
Distorting or lying about reality = "
feminist analysis"
Biology = "lies"
Reality = "discrimination"
Any power a man has = "patriarchy"
Any power a woman has = "empowerment"
Pornography pleasing to lesbians = "erotica"
Pornography pleasing to men = "exploitation and degradation of women"
Person who says feminists are wrong = "hate criminal"
Woman-firster and advocator of any measure against men = "
Patriarchy = "bad"
Matriarchy = "good"
Male leader = "backwards"
Female leader = "improvement"
Pro-lesbianism and female, anti-male = "
feminist ideology"
Same standards, honest competition = "unfair"

Female sexuality = "nurturing"
Male sexuality = "objectifying"
Female virgin = "pure"
Male virgin = "pathetic"
Female modesty = "noble"
Male modesty = "creepy"
Pandering to male audiences = "sexism"
Pandering to female audiences = "fulfilling a niche"
Women standing up for themselves = "empowerment"
Men standing up for themselves = "chauvinism"
Woman proud of her appearance = "confident"
Man proud of his appearance = "vain"
Innate female advantages = "complementary"
Innate male advantages = "sexist"
Women's space = "safe haven"
Men's space = "patriarchal breeding ground"
Women discussing their issues = "theraputic"
Men discussing their issues = "whining"
Female intellect = "pioneering"
Male intellect = "masturbatory"
Man obeying a women = "respect"
Women obeying a man = "slavery"

Men being sexually critical = "shallow"
Women being sexually critical = "having standards"
Female rage = "indignation"
Male rage = "insecurity"
Male abuse of power = "direct consequence of patriarchy"
Female abuse of power = "indirect consequence of patriarchy"
Unemployed woman = "homemaker"
Unemployed man = "loser"
Female indulgence = "happiness"
Male indulgence = "selfishness"
Any male who argues with a misandrist = a male who "has issues".

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

The Courage To Experience New Things

Yesterday was a beautiful day here in Indiana. In days, previous to this one, we were overwhelmed by a deluge of rain. In fact, the rivers and creeks around the tri-state area are reaching flood stage. You can't really do much outside in the rain. And I hate being kept inside like a caged animal. You'll see me, in those situations, pacing back and forth like a tiger in the zoo, bored and waiting for the next meal. Unlike the tiger, however, I'm not waiting to die. I feel pity for caged animals.

Early in the day, my wife and I went to our bank to make a payment for our truck. We were pleasantly surprised to find they were having a Customer Appreciation Day. Some of the bank staff were out in front, grilling hot dogs and handing them out to customers, along with free drinks and snacks. That was nice. The hot dogs tasted great, too.

Later, we took a walk in the park, not far from our place. Hand in hand, we joked and laughed about many things. The smells of Honeysuckle and other trees and flowers were pleasing, invoking memories for me of times when my family and I would take nature walks in the woods of the many state parks in our area.

For a change, we didn't carry our pesky cell phone with us. Cell phones, those detestable electronic gadgets, are creations made by the Devil. They attack you with their constant interruptions, dumb ringtones and calls from people wanting something from you. My wife has a love affair with the damn thing. I... do not. I would very much enjoy crushing the motherfucker with my foot.

Anyway, as we were enjoying our casual two mile walk/workout, my allergies got the best of me and I sneezed. Unfortunately, when I sneezed, I shit myself a little. Even though it was uncomfortable, I continued walking back to the truck (as if there were any other choice) and enjoyed the rest of our stroll.

Afterwards, I made dinner for us by grilling out on our brand spanking new charcoal grill. As you can see, you can fit a lot of food on this grill and it has a handy thermometer on the cover, telling you how high the temperature is getting inside. Yesterday, I was cooking two inch thick rib eye steaks that had been marinated in pineapple juice and Teriyaki sauce, overnight. Off to the left of the grill, I'm grilling corn on the cob with pepper and garlic butter. Sometimes, when I'm cooking steaks, I'll use a dry rub consisting of garlic, paprika, chopped onion and other spices.

I'll try a different combination of things almost every time. I'm not afraid to try new things. The only things I'm afraid of are losing people I love. The nightmare of losing my mother five years ago trumps anything I could be confronted with in the future, besides losing other loved ones.

Everything on the grill turned out great, I'm happy to report.

Speaking of things that people are afraid of....

A new restaurant has recently opened in town the other day. A Chinese restaurant. Surprisingly, an abundance of hillbillies living here, along with the wifey and I, patronized the place the other day. This town mainly consists of fast food joints and plain old "meat and potatoes" type of rest of restaurants. This establishment had some very unique, at least to me, cuisine on the buffet. While some patrons (ignorant rednecks) made disparaging remarks about some of the items, based on looks only, I happily dove in and tried almost everything they had. A little bit of this. A little bit of that. It was all delicious.

I even had a go at the Hibachi grill section of the restaurant. Just a couple other customers and I were brave enough to try it out, picking out different items (eggs, pork, lettuce, mushrooms, shrimp and many more), putting them on a plate and handing them to the poor, bored, under-worked chef standing behind the grill to cook for us. I felt a bit of pity for him, like the tiger, as well.

The reactions of the ignorant rednecks, concerning the looks of the food at the Chinese restaurant and their unwillingness to try some of the items got me to thinking, once again, about how fearful people can be about experiencing things that they are not accustomed to. It can be food, activities, ideas or any number of things. It's sad, really. People miss out on so much by staying stagnate in their comfortable, monotonous ways.

I plan on taking up oil painting after our cruise. That's something new for me. The classes cost some money and since we've been saving every spare penny for our upcoming cruise, it will have to wait until after that big event. In the near future, I would like to try parachuting. Although I'm afraid of heights, I'm eager to try it out. For our cruise, I signed up for snorkeling. This is a big deal because I'll be snorkeling in a large body of water in the Caribbeans. This has real meaning to me because in the past, I've almost drowned in large bodies of water. Once in Lake Michigan. The other time in the Ohio river. Ever since those times, I've been leery of getting into water that is that deep and expansive. But... I have the courage to do it again and I'm sure it will be a wonderful new experience, being in the beautiful blue water and seeing all the different, amazing types of marine life.

I can't wait.

Sunday, May 2, 2010

Peculiar Paintings

Pictures of unusual paintings I've collected over time. Click on each one and look closely for full effect. The Leo painting, for example, should be examined carefully. :-)

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