PC? FU!

WARNING: Severe craziness ahead. I've lost my mind.

Okay I've tried to remain silent, but that all ends now. I thought I would hurt my chances at the presidency, then I realized I don't stand a chance of the country coming to their senses and electing me, so I might as well say any fucking thing I want to.

Welcome to The Trashman's Neighborhood. The word of the day is sympathy. You'll find it in the dictionary between Shit and syphilis. If you New Orleans "refugees" want some, look it up cause you're not getting it from me. You had three days warning before the big bitch hit and you sat on your fat lazy welfare receiving asses and did nothing. You could have walked to safety in three days. Now you're laying around the Astrodome and the Austin Civic Center whining about "When do I get my FEMA card?" I haven't heard any whining from Mississippi or Alabama or any other place in Louisiana, just New Orleans. I know the bleeding heart hippy liberals are trying to blame George Bush for the hurricane and the lack of government response. Fact is, it all falls on the local government, that's right the local politicians of one of the most corrupt cities in the world. To think otherwise is pure hippy stupidity (don't get me wrong,, I'm not trying to offend anyone, wait a minute, yes I am).

It seems to me that the liberals have destroyed the basic things that made this country great in the first place. God, guns, guts and glory. This great nation was founded by a group of people trying to escape religious persecution. They believed in God, not allah, or budda or any other heathen deity. Therefore God had a very important role in the founding of America. Liberals have taken God out of our schools. Guns. Our founding fathers used guns to fight for and protect our way of life. Daily the liberals try to force through guns laws that will take away our right to defend ourselves. Guts. It took a lot guts for the settlers to explore uncharted territory and battle the Indians (I can say Indian because I'm part redskin)and the elements and to stand up for what they believed in. Liberals are gutless. Glory. The word itself says it all, that and I can't think of a way to describe it. Liberals are gutless therefore they will never know glory. Another thing the liberals have done is try their damnedest to turn America into a communist country. They do this through welfare. I work. You work. 80% of the citizens of New Orleans don't work and we just give them money. Liberalism at its finest.

I've read hundreds of blogs and news articles and watched all the news reports about New Orleans. Yes, it was a tragedy. Yes, it was catastrophic. Yes, it was dismal. Yes, it was a lot of things, but the thing it was not, was unexpected. You had time to get out. You didn't. Fuck you. Compassion is in the dictionary between cock(as in suck my) and crap (as in what the liberal media is feeding us). Hate me if you want, I don't give a rats ass.

More liberal bullshit. My baby boy (T3) can't hand out birthday invitations in his class unless he gives everybody one. God forbid Little Bertha feels left out. I got news for you Little Bertha. You're not little, your name is Bertha, you're 160 pounds in the 3rd grade. Nobody wants you at their party.

Which leads me to Hollywood. The movie people have become so politically correct that now when you watch a movie involving cheerleaders there's always a fat cheerleader. Don't get me wrong, I prefer my women healthy, but when I'm watching gyrating teenage girls on TV I don't want it ruined by some fat chick with a better moustache than me in a short skirt. Another example of this PC bullshit run amok is the remake of The Bad News Bears. They have a kid on the team in a wheelchair. I'm not saying the paraplegic can't do anything they want. But I will say they can't run bases, even in a souped up wheelchair. Let's not hurt anyone's self esteem.

More liberal stupidity. Some bitch is trying to outlaw dodgeball. It seems that the first kid to get thrown out of the game is in jeopardy of being traumatized for the rest of his life, because he's not good enough. Guess what, that's life. We're not all good at everything. Kids in wheelchair can't play baseball. Fat chicks shouldn't be cheerleaders. Some kids suck at dodgeball. I have my own limitations, I can't see my dick without a mirror. Do I sound like my delicate psyche is hurt. It ain't.

I'm not Caucasian, I'm white, I don't say African American, I say black. Native American, nope. Injun. Latin American. Wrong. Mexican, Puerto Rican, Cuban, or whatever you are. French, never, just another dick sucker. Liberal is another word for spineless shitbag.

Now before y'all get all crazy calling me a racist, I just want to reassure you I'm not a racist. I'm a bigot and there is a difference.

Mysterious Ways

Religion is a subject that I'm not real comfortable with. I'm not sure that I'm what you would call a good Christian. In fact I've kind of always been pretty sure that I had front row seats in hell. I do know the difference between right and wrong and most of the time I try to do the right thing, not because I'm trying to get in God's good graces, just because it's the right thing to do. I have cheated, lied, stolen, coveted my neighbors ass and other parts of her as well. I've broken every commandment, except maybe for the one about killing (I'll never admit to that one, since there's no statute of limitations). Bottom line is God and I never really saw eye to eye. For a long time I lived my life for the dark side, but I find as I get older that I'm being a little nicer to my fellow man. I don't know if I'm just getting soft or if I'm trying to buy my way through the pearly gates or exactly what's going on. I do know, however there may be something to this whole higher power thing. Not to long ago as most of you remember I was whining about being broke and I was attempting to sell some earrings (which most of you didn't buy). Well things have taken a turn for the better since then.

Let's go back in time a little. A while back I was little better off financially and one of my fellow bloggers wasn't. So I helped where I could and I figured that was that. Then I got into my present financial shape (broke). In fact I got so broke that I was off my medication for a few weeks. Then someone very special sent me the money for a months worth of pills. I threatened to return it but I was told in no uncertain terms that would not be allowed. A couple of days later I received even more money from someone else special. This individual told me they did it in a Christian sort of way. I also know that the first person that sent me money for my pills received some very needed financial help from a unnamed source. I'm not saying God had anything to do with any of this, but it really makes me wonder and I sent thanks His way just in case. One thing I'm sure of is my meds are covered for the four months.

Not long ago I started a remodeling business with a friend of mine. I don't know much about construction. I know people. I handle the phones, the money, and the customers. He handles the work. Before the job starts, I'm in charge, after the job starts, he's in charge. We now both work for another contractor, for even more money than we were making on our own. I'm the foreman. I don't know how it happened, but I make a ridiculous amount of money making sure other people do things I don't have a clue how to do myself. Good thing I learn fast. Once again I chalk it up to the Big Guy upstairs, that or I'm a better con-man than I thought. Either way I'm getting paid. Thanks God.

I've also been questioning my purpose in life a lot lately. I figure it's to entertain y'all. That's the best I can come up with, after all I am a funny mother fucker. Maybe y'all have some idea what I'm supposed to do. Maybe I'll go into the religion business and compete with Tommy. After all much like Jimmy Swaggart I have cavorted with hookers and like Robert Tilton I have shamelessly begged for your money.

It’s Been A Long Time Since I Rock And Rolled

A lot has happened since I last talked to y'all. For instance my baby boy (T3) got crabs from a stripper and my namesake (Trash Jr) discovered his hard on. I am however most perplexed by the lack of attention my disappearance has generated. That Kevin guy left and got 200 comments, Jay quit and got about 140. I take time off and get 38. What the fuck is that? 38 is an insult, yeah granted a bunch of y'all emailed and checked on me and I really appreciate that, but the rest of you fuckers ain't no good. Next time I disappear I expect at least 80 or 90 comments.

I called Angi and Tommy this weekend, simply because they're on my favorite people list, that and I needed Jeanettes phone number. I called Jeanette, and Inanna was there with her. That was a surprise. I knew she was going on vacation but I had no idea where. The reason I called was because I heard Jeanette was getting married and I wanted to make sure it didn't cut into her stalking time. I need at least one stalker, since the rest of y'all don't seem to care if I'm alive or dead.

Speaking of alive or dead, I didn't take my meds for about two weeks due to lack of funds. I figured I found a way out without pulling the trigger myself. Some very special people got wind of my self imposed slow torturous death plans and gave me the money for my prescription. I don't know whether to thank them or be pissed at them. Just when I thought I was out they pulled me back in. This last paragraph is meant to be taken lightly.

I'm finally wireless so I no longer have an excuse for not blogging. I guess next time disappear it's cause I just don't care. No really. I've been working 10 hour days for the last 19 days straight. I love what I'm doing. I finally found something challenging. That just means, I don't have a clue as to what I'm doing but it's lots of fun.

I bet y'all are really wondering about the crabs, stripper, hard on thing by now. Y'all are some really sick fucks.

This took place at the dinner table the other night. Trash Jr was wondering where his squishy ball was.

Trash Jr: "Where's my squishy?"
Trash: "I don't know where your squishy is, but I know where mine is. Ha Ha Ha."
Trash Jr: "That's sick, besides it's not squishy."
Trash: "Sure it is."
Trash Jr: "No. It's hard most of the time. I even can make it move up and down. I do that and say, Say hello to my little friend."
Trash: " Now that's funny."
Jen: "AAAAAAHHHHHHHH"

Now the part all you twisted perverts have been waiting for. T3 got crabs from a stripper and I watched while it happened.

I was sent to a house to knock some walls out. I had T3 with me, he was my little helper for the day. When we got there, I walked in and found three tattooed, pierced, bleach blondes sitting at the kitchen table. One of them was in the process of moving out. It was her bedroom we were knocking the walls out of. I entered the bedroom and saw about 40 pairs of high heeled shoes and thong underwear everywhere. It was rough working conditions but some how I managed to finish up with out leaving in a fit of disgust. While T3 and I were knocking the walls out the stripper walked back and forth swaying that beautiful as....... I mean carrying load after load of sweet smelling underwea..... I mean her stuff to her car. She stopped to talk to T3 for a minute.

Stripper: "Hi."
T3: "Yo what up bitc..... "I mean he said "Hi."
For a minute I was living through him.
Stripper: "Some one gave me a gag gift last Christmas and I can't take them with me. I was wondering if you wanted them."
T3: "Wanted what?"
Stripper: "These crabs."
T3: "Dad can this lady give me crabs?"
I almost choked on my tongue.
Trash: "Sure son. Tell her thank you."
T3: "Thank you."
Stripper: "You're welcome. I hope you enjoy them."
She carried another load of lacey soft undergarmen...... stuff to her car.
Trash: "You got crabs from a stripper."
T3: "Huh?"

What did you people think I was talking about.

Here's a little something for Angi. I know how much she likes critters.

Busy Busy Busy

I've been real busy this last week. It's given me a lot to talk about, unfortunately it's kept me away from my one true love, this blog. I start a new job (sort of) tomorrow. It's quite a ways from here and it's 10 hour days, so I don't know when I'll get back on here.

I got a call from a guy tonight, he lost a couple of guys and he's working on a government contract, so he has to be done by the end of the week. I'll be working for him for the rest of the week, hopefully this will turn into more work.

I lost four jobs this week due to lack of respect (not mine, theirs). Two people didn't call back, one bitch didn't show up for her estimate, and one low-life mother fucker gave me the job until the next day when I showed up to start, then he told me his partner went with someone else for a higher price. I asked why he didn't call me before I drove 30 miles and his lame-ass excuse was "I lost your number." Neat fucking trick since we did business over his cell phone, which was hanging on his belt. Luckily my partner pulled me to the truck before I hit the mother fucker. The whole way he was whispering in my ear "We don't have bail money." That's why I call him JC (Jiminy Crickett) he's my conscience. I call him before I do anything I think might be the least bit ignorant. Which is at least six times a day.

So in the very near future I will be doing a post about respect, then I have one planned for education reform, and another about religion. I realize religion is a touchy subject, but I have been questioning my own mortality quite frequenting lately, what with getting old and all. Reverend Tommy has set me straight on a lot of things, but each day I come up with more and more questions. I want to be 100% about things before I croak.

I asked for a laptop or new tattoo for my birthday ( I have expensive taste for a broke fuck). I got a cake and a couple of cards, then I went down and got myself a new laptop. Well, it will be mine if I make all the payments for the next three years. Woo Hoo. I think I finally have it all set up and running right. JC is also my computer guy, he came over and fixed things as I fucked them up. What a friend.

So, that's kind of where I've been this week.

TRASH DAY

Well, it's finally here. The day you've all been waiting for. Trash Day. Now you don't have to read anymore notes at the bottom of my posts, asking for cards, gifts and dirty underwear. Today I turn 41 and my blog is officially one year old.

Over the last year I have told you about the day I was born, my perverted neighbor, why I chose the name Trashman, and my oldest boys miraculous birth. I have shared with you stories about our move from Phoenix, my views on women, my wet dreams and scaring myself with my own tattoo. I wrote about Jen getting pregnant and losing the baby. I discussed with you the smell of ass sex, dumping my dead friends body (he really wasn't dead), being attacked by an evil ventriloquist dummy and having my life on the line (somehow I avoided getting killed). I've announced my bid for the presidency. I told you about the time an ugly woman held my dick for two hours while tattooing it, and the time my son was assaulted at school. You've read about "THAT" girl, old loves that never were, my run ins with the police and "tricks" that didn't want to pay, my wedding, and why Jack doesn't go to my mom's house. I've written stories about bear rasslin, getting caught fucking by dear old mom and getting my dick puked on by Jen, why not to date three women at the same time, the differences between men and women, and my ability to bullshit. I talked about a trip to jail, another police story and my ability to bullshit, where Jack went, when he pulled his disappearing act, my death when I came back to life, and mine and Jack's trip to the Old Time Tent Revival. I waxed poetic about the time I shot myself, my mom's cancer and the seven stages of catastrophe, telemarketers, Starshits coffee, the time I threatened my mom's doctor with a double amputation, and the time I tried to sell a half Puerto Rican-half Indian girl to some Japanese gentlemen as a white girl. I've answered your questions. Me, Jack and Jay told you three different versions of the same story. I've been on my soap box about healthcare, relationships, cops, and the greatest American alive (me). I whined about my father (Satan) and the way he treated his kids. I cried about being broke, attempted to sell you earrings and threatened to sell Rambo for cosmetic animal testing. I've answered I don't know how many of those tags you people hit me with, wanting to know the color of my underwear, favorite suppositories, etc.

Over the last year I've gotten to know a bunch of you and have become friends with some of you. I've made you laugh, cry, scream, and I'm sure I've made some of y'all hate me (right Grace). I've bared my soul to y'all. I love y'all all most as much as y'all love me. Love me or hate me, one thing is certain. I should have charged y'all to read my blog.

Note: Some of you received earrings damaged by USPS. I will be replacing these, this week. Jethro, yours will be mailed this week. I need a new shipping method. Thanks to Micki for the animation and Jeanette for my birthday card. Happy Birthday to Boo. Cards, gifts and women's underwear will still be accepted.

Two Birds, One Rock

OK, I have a couple of people to answer to. First, my vice-presidential running mate (Jenn) asked me five questions and then Nightmare asked me to list five things I just don't get. I'm a little slow in answering these and I would like to apologize for that. Let me start with Jenn. My answers will be in red.

1. When you're elected president will you be letting the vice president make most of the major decisions like how things are in this administration? I don't know if I can handle all that pressure so I need to know now so I can prepare. Jenn, as vice-president your only job will be to stop me from making an ass of myself. You will fail at this, at the inauguration. Other than that I don't know what a V.P. does, hell I don't even know if we have one now and if we do, what his name is.

2. How did you sucker Jen into staying around all these years? Charm, wit, and personality. Not to mention my large bank account, big dick and I'm fucking hot.

3. How is your mom doing? She starts her chemo soon. The operation was a success. Chemo is just to be sure. No inheritance yet.

4. In light of all your health issues have you been trying to take better care of yourself? I work out at least an hour and half every day in the pool and I'm real careful about my caloric intake. Hang on I smell cookies.

5. If you could change one thing that has happened in your past what would it be? Nothing. My past is what made me the warm, wonderful, caring, person that I am today.

Now on to Nightmares list of five things I just don't get.

1. I don't get lawyers that advertise on T.V. saying things like "Hire me now, and I'll get you a ton of money." or "Did you kill a family of 12 while driving drunk? Call me and I can get you off with a misdemeanor". Who hires these idiots?

2.I don't get depressed people. I'm short, fat, bald, broke, have a little dick, no job, too sick to work, have an area in my pants known as "The Dead Zone". Yet I'm happy. What the fuck are you people depressed about?

3. I don't get why I didn't sell more earrings.

4. I don't get today’s gas prices. Yeah crude is $60.00 a barrel, but that's sweet crude. The price of sour crude hasn't changed. There are still refineries in America that process sour crude. The companies that own these refineries have reported record breaking profits. BIG companies. Companies we all buy gas from every day. I won't mention the names of these companies, simply because I don't want to disappear in the middle of the night.

5. I don't get paranoia. There's no such thing. Big business and the government are really out to get us all. So are our neighbors, and that weird guy standing on the corner with the sign is really an agent for a government department known only by initials.

Bonus I don't get it. I don't get why anyone would vote for anybody but me in the next presidential election.

I will not pass these on to anyone. I like to make sure the buck stops here. That and I'm not as cruel as my kids think I am.

Note: One week until "Trash Day". Gifts, cards, and used underwear from you women, will be accepted.

Hero's?

This made national news. I have a lot of problems with the way our supposed public servants handled this.

Man who saved swimmer at falls hauled off to jail

(AP) - A San Marcos man was arrested after rescuing a swimmer from the swirling waters near a restaurant on the San Marcos River over the weekend.

Police say Dave Newman, 48, disobeyed repeated orders by emergency personnel to leave the water. Newman responded, "Why do I? The guy is out of the water," the report said. The police report does not mention Newman's rescue of 35-year-old Abed Duamni of Houston on Sunday afternoon.

"I was amazed," Newman said after getting out of Hays County Law Enforcement Center on $2,000 bail Monday morning. "I had a very uncomfortable night after saving that guy's life. He thanked me for it in front of the police, and then they took me to jail."

After being handcuffed and put in a Texas State University police squad car, Newman was taken to jail and charged with interfering with public duties.

Abed Duamni of Houston got caught in the current while swimming Sunday afternoon and became stuck under a building. Duamni said he found an air pocket and stayed there for about 15 minutes before Newman grabbed his leg and pulled him out.

Duamni, who said he did not see any signs warning swimmers of the dangerous currents, jumped into the water several times before the current caught him. He had just finished eating at the restaurant when he decided to go for a swim. "I reached a point where I said, 'I'm dead,'" Duamni, who was visiting San Marcos, said from his Houston home Monday night. "There's was nothing I could do. I thought, 'That's it, I'm over, I'm gone."

After pulling Duamni out of the water, Newman said, he swam him under a waterfall and over to the shore opposite from the restaurant. He could hear law enforcement personnel telling him to come back to the shore by the restaurant.

According to the report, Newman smirked and seemed annoyed by officers' requests. He stood in the water for about 15 seconds before swimming downstream, to avoid the turbulence from the waterfall, and across the river to the officers, the report said.

Newman would not get out of the water, Bell said, even after Duamni was safe and talking to authorities. Bell said Newman then swam to the other side of the river and was "sitting Indian-style on a concrete wall saying, 'Why?' " when asked to come over.

Newman said he was trying to get out of the river as fast as he could.

"I was pretty tired when all that was finished, and they wanted me to hop-to," Newman said. "I came out as soon as was reasonably humanly possible."

"When he came across the river, the officer stuck out his hand like he's going to help him out of the water, and he put cuffs on him," said John Parnell, pastor of St. Augustine Old Roman Catholic Church in Fort Worth.

According to the police report and witness accounts, the crowd that had gathered to watch the rescue was upset when they saw the police arrest Newman.

Parnell and another man blocked the police officer's path to the squad car while other members of the crowd yelled at the police, telling them Newman had saved Duamni's life and should not be arrested.

University spokesman Mark Hendricks said he did not know whether Newman rescued Duamni. Hendricks said it was his understanding that Newman was uncooperative with authorities.

When Duamni got out of the water, he saw Newman in handcuffs and asked who he was. "I said, 'What's the deal,' and the police said, 'He got you out,"' Duamni said.

San Marcos resident Bob Ogletree said he understood why emergency personnel wanted to clear the water, but didn't understand why Newman had to be arrested.

Later Newman crossed the river, he was arrested on a charge of interfering with public duties and refusing a lawful order, a Class B misdemeanor punishable by up to 180 days in jail and a $2,000 fine. As he was arrested, a crowd yelled at police.

Ralph Meyer, director of the Texas State University-San Marcos Police Department said Newman probably would not serve any more jail time relating to incident. And he would not rule out the possibility of the charge being dropped altogether.

"Anything is possible," Meyer said.

Police said Newman had heard the order to leave the spillway area and said later, "I saved the guy, and there was no need for me to leave."

Newman said he heard the order to get out of the water but initially ignored it because he'd thought he felt Duamni underwater.

"The one thing I did wrong was not just jump out of the water at the first command," Newman said. "But I had already touched this fellow under there."

Now what I want to know is, how many cops got wet? How many firemen jumped in? Since when does a river have to be clear to save someone's life? How do they know he was smirking? Maybe it was a grimace from being tired from swimming. Maybe it was a smile because he thought he did something good. After all he saved someone's life. And what was his reward? He got arrested. He jumped into the river to save a life and the only life he endangered was his own, and he fucking got arrested. This is just a case of police gone crazy with power. They arrested him "because he didn't do what we told him to do". Somebody call a fucking Whhhaaaabulance. God forbid you ignore the police and save a life. Ooooo, now your a dangerous criminal. The arresting officer should be reprimanded and told to sit it out for a while. If somebody saves my life and gets arrested, then I'm suing the police officer personally for putting my life in jeopardy. I know I won't win, but he'll have some sleepless nights and a bill from a lawyer. Make them pay, just like Newman had to pay bail. I know when they drop the charges, he gets his bail back, but he doesn't get back the 10% he had to pay the bail bondsman. Why didn't the police report mention Newman saving Duamnis life? Because that would make the police look bad. I thought they were supposed to put all the facts into the report. I wonder how many other reports are slanted to make an arrest seem necessary. The police are no more there to serve and protect than I am. They are there to make you pay, one way or another, and if they can't make the charges stick they can damn sure make you spend a lot of money defending yourself. Real hero's, huh?

Note: Once again July 17th, also known as "Trash Day" is almost upon us. Letter bombs are expected. Gifts and cards will be accepted.