I Feel My Temperature Rising

Here's some food for thought. Spontaneous Human Combustion. Some people believe in it, some don't. I'm not sure if I do, but I'm going to die from it. I know this as sure as I know the sun is going to rise tomorrow. Flame on Trashman.

How do I know you ask. Because I'm always thirsty. That's right, thirsty. I drink all day long and not sodas or juices or anything like that. But water. Lots and lots of ice cold water. The colder the better. I'll fill a glass to the top with ice and then fill it with water. Then I'll refill it with both all day long. If I'm not at home I'll buy bottles of water. Drink, drink, drink all day. It may seem excessive but I'm trying to put out a fire.

I grew up in west Texas. The temperatures are pretty high there. I lived in Phoenix, it's hot there too. But I was most comfortable in Jersey. Cooler temperatures. Less likely to burst into flames. I keep my house cold in the summer and colder in the winter. Once again if I don't get too hot, I can't burn. I don't mind breaking a sweat, cause wet stuff don't burn. In fact I prefer sex on a hot July afternoon with the air conditioning turned off. It's sweaty, no flames. Plus it's dirty and I like dirty.

Back to burning. I remember the first time I saw a special on SHC on TV as a not so small child. I knew then and there that SHC would be my form of demise. I've been trying to put out the flames since. I drink lots of fluids and swim whenever I can. I keep as cool as my surroundings will let me. Can't stand the heat so I stay out of the kitchen. Plus that's a woman's world anyway.

I don't know what causes SHC but I'm pretty sure it's not gas. Otherwise I would have gone up in flames years ago. I don't think it's static electricity either, I don't short out small appliances. One of the theories is alcohol, but I don't touch the demon drink. Another theory is stored body fat. If that's it I'm definitely doomed.

I just refilled a 32oz glass with water for the third time since I sat down to write this. If I don't burn, I'm going to drown.

Merry Crimas

A lot of you stopped by and wished me a Merry Christmas and a few of you even gave me virtual gifts. This really means a lot to me. And I thank you. Unfortunately we don't celebrate Christmas. No. We celebrate Crimas. The difference is Christmas is all about the birth of Jesus and good will towards your fellow man and all that other good stuff. Crimas on the other hand is all about "Whadjagetme?" and "Howmuchdjaspend?". If you haven't figured it out yet I'm about to unload another one of my crackpot theories on you. The worse part is I'm pretty sure this is not even an original thought.

Let's start with Santa Claus. We all know if you rearrange the letters in Santa you have Satan. His last name is Claus and I'm pretty sure Satan has claws. Scary, huh? So Santa and Satan could be the same guy. They're both dressed in red. They're both immune to fire, otherwise Santa couldn't come down the chimney. Satan makes adults forget Jesus by promising untold wealth and material things and Santa uses the same tricks on kids with "presents".

The ninth commandment is "Thou shalt not lie." People do this every time they tell their children about Santa. I'm guilty of it myself. So now Santa has gotten millions to break one of the commandments, something Satan tries to do all the time.

Santa makes us lie to our children, he's immune to fire, he's dressed in red, he overworks the reindeer (somebody inform PETA) and he has managed to take Christ out of Christmas. Satan's gotta be loving it.

Every year Jen asks me what I want for Christmas and I always tell her nothing, because the things I do want we just can't afford. Plus the fact I'm just disgusted with the whole thing. If you want to buy something for someone, just fucking buy it. Why do we need a special day?

Why do we need a special day to climb in the car and drive several hours just to have dinner with family? Why can't we do it just because we want to? Is the long ass boring drive filled with threats to pull over and climb into the back seat and beat the shit out of everyone back there any shorter? No. We do it because we feel obligated. For once I would like to make the drive because I want to, not because I'm supposed to. There are lots of times I want to, I just don't, because a holiday is coming up and I'll have to then. So I just put it off.

There are times I see things that I would like to get for Jen or the kids, but I don't, because Christmas is coming. Why do I have to wait and lump all the crap on them in one day? Just so they can go into sensory overload and get bored with everything after 15 minutes and not appreciate a damn thing?

Well I'm putting my fucking foot down. NO MORE CRIMAS. From now on we celebrate Christmas. If you want to give someone a gift, make it with your own two hands, put some thought, love and time into it. I would rather get something from my kids that they made and put some effort into, instead of something some little Chinese kid put together for pennies a day. Fuck Walmart, fuck Target, fuck Penneys, fuck them all. Fuck anybody trying to make a quick buck on the sale of goods in the spirit of the birth of our Lord and Saviour.

Now that being said don't forget I have t-shirts and bullet earrings for sale. They make perfect Kwanza and Chanukah gifts.

Vanity, Pride, Headaches

Nightmare has made the revenge list. Not for the questions from the last post, but for tagging me with one of those fucking meme things. Here are the directions: Write 5 random facts about yourself, and then list the names of 5 people whom you in turn infect (infect is the correct word because it takes a diseased mind to come up with this shit). These things are called meme's for a reason, they're all about vanity, which I'm an expert at. So here's my fucking list. Heaven forbid I rebel and fight the system.

1) Women find me attractive.....and I know it.
2) I'm a very shallow person.
3) I prefer women with small breast and a great ass. But the right set of boobs will catch my eye. Inanna and Zelda know what I'm talking about.
4) I have a unnatural deep seated fear (I blame the Southern Baptist) of going to hell.
5) Regardless of what Jen says, everything is all about me.

Now for the list of people I'm going to infect. Nobody. If you want to do this and give me credit fine, but I refuse put anybody on the spot, at least with a list, I normally enjoy putting people on the spot, on my terms.

Side note to Michael: You were think about my "stick" and it hadn't even entered my mind.

As y'all can see I'm trying to write more often. Hope you're fucking happy.

This last weekend my boys took it upon themselves to go out and earn some money raking leaves. Between the two of them they earned about $70.00 in an afternoon. I was really proud of them. I figured if they were old enough to work for their own money they were old enough for a speech. That was a mistake.

Trash: "Boys sit down I want to talk to you."
Trash Jr & T3 (in unison): "Come on Dad. Do we have to?"
Trash: "Sit down and listen. Kick it up."
Trash Jr: "Huh?"
Trash: "You work my neighborhood. You kick it up."
T3: "Whats that mean?"
Trash: "It means you work my neighborhood, you pay me for the privilege. Tell all your friends too."
T3: "Keep your hands off my money."
Trash Jr: "I'm telling Mom."
Trash: "Tell her and I double my cut."
Trash Jr: "DAD I'm trying to save money for Christmas."
Trash: "Oh I see you're hiding your money behind Jesus. Ok. Then you just have to listen to a speech."
T3: "Can I just pay you?"
Trash: "Nope, it's speech time."
Trash Jr: "We should of just paid him."
T3: "Don't move maybe he'll just go away."
Trash: "Boys today you earned your own money and I'm happy about that. Now here's the secret to money. Save it. Don't spend it just because you have it. Hold on to it tight. Someday you'll need it. Get as much of it as you can. When you make some don't stop working just because you have a little money in your pockets. Go make more. Don't over charge people just because your cute and you can. Treat your customers right so they'll call you back and you can make more money off them. Give them a fair job for a fair price. Never be satisfied, always strive to do a better job and always bust your ass to make more money, because I don't care what people say "money does make the world go round and it can by you love ($200.00 an hour) and it will get you happiness", so if you want the world to continue to go around and you want to hang on to the love and happiness you better have more money. What I'm trying to say is work hard, treat your customers right, strive for greatness, and be frugal. Be thankful for what you have but always try to get more. Work for more. Do y'all understand me?
Trash Jr: "Uhhhhh."
T3: "Yeah?"
Trash: "Good. Do you have more yards lined up for tomorrow?"
Trash Jr: "I ain't working tomorrow. I made enough for one week."
T3: "Right. Can you take me to the store so I can rent a game?"

My head still hurts from beating it on the table.

Tuesday Tuesday

By the amount of questions you people asked I'm assuming that a lot of y'all think you know me. If you've come to the conclusion that I'm an ordinary run-of-the-mill asshole, then you're wrong. There's nothing ordinary about me. On to the questions. Questions are bold and answers are italic. New post Thursday.

Jethro asked the best. How many times have you been incarcerated? I don't know. Honestly. If you count the times I was bailed out before I made it to the jail house and how many times the charges were dropped, and how many times they decided not to charge me and all the actual arrest, I'm sure it hits the way high double digits. You have to remember I have been very lucky in my life of crime. And, what was the longest stretch of time? I believe it was 4 days waiting for bail. Once again very lucky.

Michael asked. My question is, what are you gonna get me for Crimes? As in, when you rob that bank, what's my % of the take? I'm answering a question with a question. Are you driving the getaway car?

El Sid was wondering. How do you feel about socks? Hate them. They suffocate my feet. If it was up to me we would all be nekkid.

Ford W. Maverick had a random thought. I met a G Love in Morgantown. He was in some sort of band. Wonder if it's the same guy. Nope.

Beth wants to know more about me. (I think she's hot for me.) You remember that movie, Brewster's Millions? Yes. If you were Brewster, how would you have spent all that money? Hookers and Cocaine. Just like any red blooded American male. Or would you have copped out and taken the money they offered in the beginning? Probably. I plan on dying surrounded by hookers and cocaine anyway. You have nine years to do everything you've always wanted to do. What's the first thing on that list? You. Why did you leave Jersey? I didn't know your address, or I was on the run from the law, not sure.

Zelda has met me, she knows I'm full of shit anyway. Have you ever had a drink called a Spanish Fly? No. And Fuck You. You still have more readers than I do and I've been writing longer and better. (How was that for sheer balls?) Incredible. You are a more better writer than me.

Kim is getting me a Crimas present. What do you want for Crimas? A big tattoo.

Boo asked about Crimas. I do wonder though if I'm wasting my time wishing for Bionic Woman DVD's for Xmas?? The magic eight ball says "Don't hold your breath." And in answer to your earlier question....Of course I feel that strongly about you. Couldn't you tell? Yes, I felt it in my groin.

Seth insulted me, then wanted to know. When was the first time you went to jail? I think when I was 12 or 13. When was the first time you were arrested? About 15 minutes before the first time I went to jail. Ever been kicked out or banned from any other casinos, or any other establishments? Quite a few bars and pool halls.

Inanna has issues. It sounds like the apocalypse outside, sirens all over, what the hell is going on? You're imagining it. It's all in your pretty little head.

Jeanette is spying again. Real tree or fake tree this year? Same fake tree as last year. What you really wanted to know was boxers or briefs?

Brighton converted. How about I just wish you a Merry Christmas? OK. Will you be naked when you do this?

Jack has two questions (one came via email). When's the next revival? When you get here. Can I rub your naked body with chocolate pudding? Jack you're one sick twisted fucker.

Kristin wants me to make her dream come true. Oh and how's your schedule looking this week, I'm free. I dig free chicks. Call me.

Collin asked me. Are you annoyed that I still haven't drawn the zombie pimp and hos? I'm a very patient man.

Nightmare has made the revenge list (next post will explain). See what I get for not checking up on you yesterday? Yes, I do. I'm sneaking this under the radar. Here is my Query, Why the hell is it that I read Rob's blog and sometimes send him emails and I get no linky goodness, or a blessed shout out? He don't like you. Is it because I tend to be more like hemmingway, and less like cussler? I'm sure it is. Or is it a deep disdain for the midwest? Nah, Rob likes everybody especially guidos. I'm kidding I could give a rats ass less as to why I am not on his short list. I do want to know however why you chose a life of crime instead of a college career and a cube job. I don't think you're stupid. You might be but I doubt it. So why the darker shades of gray, instead of walking the short and narrow path of righteousness? Who's to say I'm not on the path of righteousness. Maybe all the cube guys are on the path to hell. Actually the rush of it all. I'm not stupid by any means, but I have played dumb so less would be expected of me. Plus I never was a corporate zombie type, not to mention when I grew up only rich kids went to college.

Cootera wants me. Where's the love, dammit? Hanging between my legs?????

Just me (not me) had a few questions. Do you like to tie up or be tied? Tie up. Ain't no woman ever tying me down. When are you going to open your restaurant? What restaurant? What was the hardest thing in your life that you've had to do? Bury a friend. He wouldn't stop trying to climb out of the grave.

tCj HAS to touch me. I'm not too late, am I? Never! CAN I EVER MEET YOU? YES! No need to bring clothes. I've met people who've met you...but that's like getting second best.......I wanna meet YOU! I wanna do you too!!!

Memories Light The Corners Of My Mind

I was at the store the other night and saw a container of Tang sitting on the shelf. I told Jen I was going to buy it. She asked me if I was supposed to drink it due to my diabetes. I figured what the hell, astronauts drink it. It must be healthy. I haven't had Tang since I was a little kid, and then I only got it when we visited my rich cousins. It was as good as I remembered. There's nothing quite like a cold glass of chemical dust mixed up in bad water. MMMMMM yummy.

Anyway that glass of orange goodness got me to thinking about other pleasant childhood memories. Who remembers the Christmas time Coca-Cola song? You know, the one that goes "I'd like to teach the world to sing..." Have you seen what the hipsters have done to one of the few good memories I have of yesteryear? What the fuck is this shit? A bunch of wanna-be hippies dressed up in retro t-shirts with out-dated hair cuts sitting on a Philadelphia roof top singing "I'd like to teach the world to chill..." all being lead by G. Love, some white guy trying to rap and sound black. It's as bad as Madonna singing "American Pie" maybe even worse. It's like all the remade movies. The Dukes of Hazzard was ruined. Is there no originality left? Can't they come up with something new? Why do they have to ruin all the good stuff? Redo some of the bad shit, maybe you'll make it better.

Speaking of making things better. I got to thinking this morning, I'm 41. It's time to make my life better. Not that it's bad, but it could be better. Statistically speaking my life is half over. That gives me 40 years to do all the things I've wanted to do (like rob a bank). Now once you subtract the last ten years because those will be spent in a nursing home, wheel chair bound, trading lies with the other old timers, shitting myself cause I think it's funny that the nurse has to wipe my ass ("pull my finger" has a whole new affect at that age). I'm left with 30 years for fun. I should probably subtract at least 7 years for incarceration. Now I'm down to 23 years. Take away the 9 years my baby boy (T3) has left in school and I've got 14 years. Need to take off about 5 years for surgery and sickness (I'll lose a leg sooner or later due to diabetes, but that's OK, I'll just get a peg) and I've got 9 years left. So 9 years to do everything I want to do.

Now I just need to figure out what exactly it is I want to do. I have a short list, but I'm greedy so I want a bigger list. I'll work on that and let y'all know.

My readership is dropping again. I have nobody to blame but y'all. I guess I'll have to speed up on the posting again. I know I keep saying that but I'm the busiest broke guy I know. All work and no pay makes Trash a dull writer. Money makes me happy. When I'm happy I write. When I write I'm happy. If I could just get paid for writing everything would be fine.

Most of my hits come from Rob's site. I'm hoping it's Harper Collins checking in on me. They better hurry up with an offer before someone else does. Anybody out there wanna publish the memoirs of a fucking freak? Maybe I should post a few more wild stories. Trouble is I want to get paid for my stories. Would y'all buy the book?

It's Christmas time again (not the holiday season). Christmas. Ninety six percent of the people in America celebrate Christmas, so stop with the PC shit and wish someone a Merry Christmas. Although I will admit sometimes I say Crimas, just cause. So in the spirit of giving I'm going to give y'all the chance to ask me anything you want and as much as you want. I will answer the questions truthfully or to the best of my ability or with humor or I just may out and out lie to you. I will at least answer your questions. I will answer on Tuesday. I promise. So let the asking begin and have a Merry Crimas.