Angi tagged me, I guess cause she likes to torture me. Then she went and complained about the number of these things floating around out there in Blogville. Typical chick.
I have to list 5 weird things about me or my pets then I'm supposed to pass the torture on to 5 people but I'm going to kill this one right here. I wouldn't want to upset Angi by sending more of these things out.
One reasons I'm doing this is because I need to post, this will be short, and I don't have the energy to rant or dig up my past.
On to the agony. This will be all about me. There's nothing weird about my pets.
1. My sunny disposition is a facade. I'm really very angry.
2. The voices of Fran Drescher, Rosie Perez and Megan Mullally really turn me on.
3. When I'm in a high place looking over the edge I have to really fight the urge to jump. It's not a suicide thing, it's an "I bet I could fly thing".
4. I like to shop.
5. I'm fascinated with death. In fact I really want to see what's on the other side.
Stay tuned for a new rant coming soon.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Choices
Through out our lives we are all given choices to make. I chose to stop playing football after 8th grade because I didn't want to play in a corrupt system that would let me get away with the shit I did. Texas football used to be a major deal even in grade school and junior high. Since I no longer played football I had to work for my grades, by that time I had become lazy and had really shitty study habits. I was also used to getting away with things so I tried to keep getting away with them. Therefore I was given the choice of being expelled for the remainder of my senior year or quitting. It was the first time I ever quit anything and that was just because I was leaving on my terms (or so I believed).
Now Trash Jr has to make some of the same choices. He plays football, at least until Friday when he gets his report card. He is failing History. At the beginning of the year I met with all of his teachers and told them this would happen. I told them we could stop it from happening if they would call me when they first saw any problems. My phone never rang. When I asked the teacher why she didn't call, all she said was "In retrospect I see that I should have done that." Fine she has hindsight, but that still didn't answer my question. After asking her why, four different times, I got retrospect four times. Which still doesn't answer my question. I hung up on her so I wouldn't threaten her life or start cussing or some such juvenile white trash thing.
I've tried my best to make sure he doesn't follow in my footsteps. He's smart but I don't think he can walk in my shoes and remain a free man, and I see a lot of me in him. This is not a good thing.
Like I said, choices. I chose to lie, cheat, steal, deal, hustle, con, pimp, rip off and swindle my way through life. I don't want him making those same choices. I want him to be better than me, much like I'm better than my dad. I want him to break free of the white trash shackles. I want to be the last member of my family that embraces my heritage. Once you head down that road it's damn near impossible to find an exit. I found an exit.
I turned my life around. I have car insurance. I attempt to pay my bills. I get up everyday and go to work usually for at least 12 hours a day. I don't have to sweat when I see the cops (but I still do). I work my ass off, hopefully so my children won't have to. Once again these are my choices. But sometimes you have to wonder if you're making the right choices.
Being the phil-os-o-fiser that I am, I've always said that I have no regrets in life, because every choice I've made is the right one. I know they're the right choices because God wouldn't let me make the wrong one (I know it may surprise a lot of you to hear that I'm a god fearing man. Well I was raised in a Southern Baptist Church, nuff said).
I'm starting to rethink my whole philosophy. I'm starting to think maybe I'm just an experiment to God. I'm thinking maybe he gets a good laugh out of me. In fact I think he's sitting on his puffy little cloud right now wondering what he can do to me next.
I've had to move twice since June, my business is going under (quickly), my son decided he wants to be like me, on top of that I'm short, fat, bald and I have a little dick. Not to mention the fact that I’m diabetic which makes me piss like a race horse. My vision is going bad probably due to the diabetes and Macular Degeneration which I inherited from my mother. And I don’t think I’ll ever get that book deal.
I think it's time to make some new choices. Choices that could affect the rest of my life (which is really a stupid statement because all of our choices affect the rest of our lives). Let's just say the title of my blog could become a self fulfilling prophecy.
I know you've all heard the saying "Crime doesn't pay." Well here's a new saying for you "Bullshit. Crime does pay and I think it's time to get paid."
Now Trash Jr has to make some of the same choices. He plays football, at least until Friday when he gets his report card. He is failing History. At the beginning of the year I met with all of his teachers and told them this would happen. I told them we could stop it from happening if they would call me when they first saw any problems. My phone never rang. When I asked the teacher why she didn't call, all she said was "In retrospect I see that I should have done that." Fine she has hindsight, but that still didn't answer my question. After asking her why, four different times, I got retrospect four times. Which still doesn't answer my question. I hung up on her so I wouldn't threaten her life or start cussing or some such juvenile white trash thing.
I've tried my best to make sure he doesn't follow in my footsteps. He's smart but I don't think he can walk in my shoes and remain a free man, and I see a lot of me in him. This is not a good thing.
Like I said, choices. I chose to lie, cheat, steal, deal, hustle, con, pimp, rip off and swindle my way through life. I don't want him making those same choices. I want him to be better than me, much like I'm better than my dad. I want him to break free of the white trash shackles. I want to be the last member of my family that embraces my heritage. Once you head down that road it's damn near impossible to find an exit. I found an exit.
I turned my life around. I have car insurance. I attempt to pay my bills. I get up everyday and go to work usually for at least 12 hours a day. I don't have to sweat when I see the cops (but I still do). I work my ass off, hopefully so my children won't have to. Once again these are my choices. But sometimes you have to wonder if you're making the right choices.
Being the phil-os-o-fiser that I am, I've always said that I have no regrets in life, because every choice I've made is the right one. I know they're the right choices because God wouldn't let me make the wrong one (I know it may surprise a lot of you to hear that I'm a god fearing man. Well I was raised in a Southern Baptist Church, nuff said).
I'm starting to rethink my whole philosophy. I'm starting to think maybe I'm just an experiment to God. I'm thinking maybe he gets a good laugh out of me. In fact I think he's sitting on his puffy little cloud right now wondering what he can do to me next.
I've had to move twice since June, my business is going under (quickly), my son decided he wants to be like me, on top of that I'm short, fat, bald and I have a little dick. Not to mention the fact that I’m diabetic which makes me piss like a race horse. My vision is going bad probably due to the diabetes and Macular Degeneration which I inherited from my mother. And I don’t think I’ll ever get that book deal.
I think it's time to make some new choices. Choices that could affect the rest of my life (which is really a stupid statement because all of our choices affect the rest of our lives). Let's just say the title of my blog could become a self fulfilling prophecy.
I know you've all heard the saying "Crime doesn't pay." Well here's a new saying for you "Bullshit. Crime does pay and I think it's time to get paid."
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Nuttin' To Say
I know I've been gone for awhile. Right now my whole world is upside down, but I'm not going to get into that. Instead I'm going to dig down deep inside and try to entertain y'all.
These are 20 things the Trashman will never say.
1. I don't care how fat you get, I love you for you.
2. Welfare? I think it's a great idea.
3. But I don't want a blow job.
4. Michael Moore is a genius.
5. Undocumented workers.
6. George Bush did not lose his mind.
7. We should let everyone come to America. After all aren't we all brothers?
8. Do you have stripper boots in a mans size 11 wide?
9. I'm going to the Dixie Chicks concert.
10. What happened on One Life To Live today?
11. Not tonight I have a headache.
12. Do these pants make my ass look big.
13. Katrina Victims.
14. I don't need a lawyer. You got me, I did it.
15. I'll have the vegetarian platter.
16. Do you have any Jazz music?
17. That guy is hot.
18. That's OK. When I said medium rare I meant burnt to a crisp.
19. Are you up for a game of Dungeons and Dragons?
20. Honey, strap this on, bend me over and make me squeal.
Now I'm going to put three of y'all on the spot. I want to know 10 things you'll never say. Jack, Jethro, and Kim.
These are 20 things the Trashman will never say.
1. I don't care how fat you get, I love you for you.
2. Welfare? I think it's a great idea.
3. But I don't want a blow job.
4. Michael Moore is a genius.
5. Undocumented workers.
6. George Bush did not lose his mind.
7. We should let everyone come to America. After all aren't we all brothers?
8. Do you have stripper boots in a mans size 11 wide?
9. I'm going to the Dixie Chicks concert.
10. What happened on One Life To Live today?
11. Not tonight I have a headache.
12. Do these pants make my ass look big.
13. Katrina Victims.
14. I don't need a lawyer. You got me, I did it.
15. I'll have the vegetarian platter.
16. Do you have any Jazz music?
17. That guy is hot.
18. That's OK. When I said medium rare I meant burnt to a crisp.
19. Are you up for a game of Dungeons and Dragons?
20. Honey, strap this on, bend me over and make me squeal.
Now I'm going to put three of y'all on the spot. I want to know 10 things you'll never say. Jack, Jethro, and Kim.
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Very Bad Things
Today is the anniversary of this blog. This year will be two years since Jack first introduced me to y'all. It's also my 42nd birthday. So I thought this year I would give y'all a gift. I'm going to step away from the political paranoia and conspiracy post and tell you a little story. A story that had it gone the wrong way I probably would be carving my blog on a prison wall. So get yourself a slice of cake, have some punch and enjoy.
All over northern Jersey there are little motor lodges. They are what you would expect them to be in the larger city's but in the smaller towns they can be quite nice. We used to use the ones in the smaller towns for the incall service. Most of these little motels are owned by people of the Hindu persuasion (is that PC for dot heads?). I had a deal with one of the proprietors of a motor lodge in a little town loaded with corporate headquarters of a lot of BIG companies. I would give Mr. Patel a percentage of what the girls would bring in and every once and awhile he would get a little action for himself (when Mrs. Patel was out of town).
This spot was a gold mine. The executives liked to run out at lunch and get a little, so I kept girls at most of the motels in the area.
I had picked up a new girl in Newark earlier in the day. She wasn't anything special. Really quiet and kind of mousy, plain face, plain brown hair, ordinary body but willing to trade ass for money. On the way to the motel I found out she didn't bring ID, that meant I was going to have to check her in, so we started off bad. I took her to the only place I could put her without having to answer a bunch of questions. We went to see Mr. Patel.
Mr. Patel: "Hello, Mr. Trashman. How are you my friend."
Trashman: "Yo. I got a new girl I need to set up here."
Mr. Patel: "Bring her in so she can check in."
Trashman: "She doesn't have any ID."
Mr. Patel: "OK we check her in as Miss. Smith."
Trashman: "I'll sign for her."
Mr. Patel: "Maybe I'll visit her today."
Trashman: "Don't waste your time. Something weird about her."
Mr Patel: "OK my friend. You know what is best. Room 116. This way I can keep eye on her for you."
Trashman: "Cool."
Now I knew why he wanted to keep an eye on her, it was so I couldn't cheat him on his percentage. I set her up in the room and explained how things worked. As customers called they were given descriptions (not always accurate) of the girls working in the area that they were interested in. From these descriptions they would pick a girl, then they were given the name of the motel. When they arrived at the motel they were to call back from a certain pay phone (for caller ID reasons) if the girl was not busy at the time they were given a room number. As soon as the girl had the money she called in and the timer was set for one hour. After the customer left the girl would call back and the next guy would be sent in. It went around and around like this all day. Sometimes. Sometimes there were problems. Problems like she ran with the money or said the guy didn't show up and ripped us off, or sometimes she quit answering the door. This time she quit answering.
Just as soon as I got word from WBG that the stupid bitch stopped answering the door I rushed over to the motel. She had already done about eight calls and I wasn't about to lose that much money. I looked around for the police before I approached the door (you can't be too careful). The coast seemed clear so I walked up and beat on the door. Nothing. I kicked the shit out of the door. Still nothing. I walked over to the office and was greeted by Mr. Patel.
Mr. Patel: " My friend you are back early."
Trashman: "I thought you were going to keep an eye on her."
Mr. Patel: "Is there a problem?"
Trashman: "She's missed a couple of calls and she's not answering the door. Give me a key."
I walked over, stuck the key in the door and tried to turn it. Nothing, it wouldn't turn, I went back to the office.
Trashman: "Wrong key. It won't turn."
Mr. Patel: "She must have the key in the door on the inside. It stops the outside from being unlocked. I have a special key for that. Come, my friend I will let you in."
We walked back over to the room an Patel used his "special" key. It worked. Now there was a new problem, the fucking chain was on the door.
Mr. Patel: "I'll get a tool and take the chain off. Wait here my friend."
He comes back with a screw driver and snakes his skinny little arm through the door and removes the screws and the chain drops. He turns and looks at me, grinning like an idiot and throws the door open. All I see is a naked blue whore with a needle sticking out of her arm sprawled out on the bed. He must have seen something on my face because he turns and looks in the room.
Mr. Patel: "OH MY GOD SHE IS DEAD."
Trashman: "Shut the fuck up. Go back to the office and forget you ever saw any of this. Don't call anybody. I'll take care of this. Forget it. Just forget it all."
Mr. Patel: "But she is...."
Trashman: "She's not even here. Miss Smith doesn't exist. Get rid of the paperwork. Go. NOW."
Patel ran back to the office never looking back. I looked around to make sure no one heard his screaming, stepped into the room and closed the door. All I could do was stare at the dead naked bitch and think "What the fuck am I gonna do now?" I called WBG with my cell phone. I wasn't about to touch anything in the room. Except I tried to feel for a pulse. The bitch was already cold.
Trashman: "We've got a problem."
WBG: "Did she skip?"
Trashman: "No. She's here."
WBG: "What's the problem?"
Trashman: "She's dead."
WBG: "HAHAHAHAHA yeah right. Quit fucking around."
Trashman: "I ain't kidding man. She's fucking 86. Looks like she OD'd"
WBG: "Oh fuck."
At this point I started going though her bags looking for my money. I was ripping open drawers, closets, lifting the mattress as best as I could with one hand.
WBG: "Find the fucking money."
Trashman: "I'm looking for the fucking money."
WBG: "What are you gonna do with the carcass?"
Trashman: "Get a hold of JJ and tell him where I'm at."
WBG: "What are you doing with the bitch?"
Trashman: "Fuck you man, you don't need to know shit. Call JJ."
WBG: "Fuck you too man. Find the fucking money."
Trashman: "I just did."
WBG: "How much? All of it?"
Trashman: "$2500 that's $900 more than she should have. Bitch was holding out."
Meanwhile a miracle was taking place behind me. The dead was rising.
Dead Whore: "What's going on man?"
Trashman: "WHAT THE FUCK?"
WBG: "What's happening? "
Dead Whore: "What are you doing with my money?"
Trashman : "FUCK YOU BITCH. PUT SOME FUCKING CLOTHES ON."
WBG: "Who the fuck are you talking to?"
Trashman: "I'm talking to this fucking zombie."
WBG: "Huh?"
Trashman: "The bitch came back to life."
WBG: "Get her the fuck out of there."
Trashman: "You want to handle this shit?"
WBG: "Fuck no."
Trashman: "Then stop telling me what to fucking do."
Dead Whore: "I want my money, man."
Trashman: "Pull the fucking needle out of your arm."
WBG: "When you're done come back to the office."
Trashman: "Blow me."
Dead Whore: "I don't blow anybody."
Trashman: "Not you, skank."
WBG: "HAHAHAHA later."
I put the bitch in the car and headed for Newark, at the first stop light she had already nodded off and when I hit the brakes she fell into the floor board. I did what any decent person would of done and left her there. When I pulled up in front of her house I threw the car in park and got out. I walked around, opened her door and grabbed her under the arms. As I was pulling her out she came to again.
Dead Whore: "Where's my money, man?"
Trashman: "You were a dead junkie whore, now you're a broke junkie whore, you give me any shit and you're going to be a dead junkie whore, again."
Dead Whore: "You ain't right, man."
Trashman: "Fuck you."
I hope you enjoyed the cake and punch.
Special thank you to micki for the new gravatar. SHE remembered my birthday.
All over northern Jersey there are little motor lodges. They are what you would expect them to be in the larger city's but in the smaller towns they can be quite nice. We used to use the ones in the smaller towns for the incall service. Most of these little motels are owned by people of the Hindu persuasion (is that PC for dot heads?). I had a deal with one of the proprietors of a motor lodge in a little town loaded with corporate headquarters of a lot of BIG companies. I would give Mr. Patel a percentage of what the girls would bring in and every once and awhile he would get a little action for himself (when Mrs. Patel was out of town).
This spot was a gold mine. The executives liked to run out at lunch and get a little, so I kept girls at most of the motels in the area.
I had picked up a new girl in Newark earlier in the day. She wasn't anything special. Really quiet and kind of mousy, plain face, plain brown hair, ordinary body but willing to trade ass for money. On the way to the motel I found out she didn't bring ID, that meant I was going to have to check her in, so we started off bad. I took her to the only place I could put her without having to answer a bunch of questions. We went to see Mr. Patel.
Mr. Patel: "Hello, Mr. Trashman. How are you my friend."
Trashman: "Yo. I got a new girl I need to set up here."
Mr. Patel: "Bring her in so she can check in."
Trashman: "She doesn't have any ID."
Mr. Patel: "OK we check her in as Miss. Smith."
Trashman: "I'll sign for her."
Mr. Patel: "Maybe I'll visit her today."
Trashman: "Don't waste your time. Something weird about her."
Mr Patel: "OK my friend. You know what is best. Room 116. This way I can keep eye on her for you."
Trashman: "Cool."
Now I knew why he wanted to keep an eye on her, it was so I couldn't cheat him on his percentage. I set her up in the room and explained how things worked. As customers called they were given descriptions (not always accurate) of the girls working in the area that they were interested in. From these descriptions they would pick a girl, then they were given the name of the motel. When they arrived at the motel they were to call back from a certain pay phone (for caller ID reasons) if the girl was not busy at the time they were given a room number. As soon as the girl had the money she called in and the timer was set for one hour. After the customer left the girl would call back and the next guy would be sent in. It went around and around like this all day. Sometimes. Sometimes there were problems. Problems like she ran with the money or said the guy didn't show up and ripped us off, or sometimes she quit answering the door. This time she quit answering.
Just as soon as I got word from WBG that the stupid bitch stopped answering the door I rushed over to the motel. She had already done about eight calls and I wasn't about to lose that much money. I looked around for the police before I approached the door (you can't be too careful). The coast seemed clear so I walked up and beat on the door. Nothing. I kicked the shit out of the door. Still nothing. I walked over to the office and was greeted by Mr. Patel.
Mr. Patel: " My friend you are back early."
Trashman: "I thought you were going to keep an eye on her."
Mr. Patel: "Is there a problem?"
Trashman: "She's missed a couple of calls and she's not answering the door. Give me a key."
I walked over, stuck the key in the door and tried to turn it. Nothing, it wouldn't turn, I went back to the office.
Trashman: "Wrong key. It won't turn."
Mr. Patel: "She must have the key in the door on the inside. It stops the outside from being unlocked. I have a special key for that. Come, my friend I will let you in."
We walked back over to the room an Patel used his "special" key. It worked. Now there was a new problem, the fucking chain was on the door.
Mr. Patel: "I'll get a tool and take the chain off. Wait here my friend."
He comes back with a screw driver and snakes his skinny little arm through the door and removes the screws and the chain drops. He turns and looks at me, grinning like an idiot and throws the door open. All I see is a naked blue whore with a needle sticking out of her arm sprawled out on the bed. He must have seen something on my face because he turns and looks in the room.
Mr. Patel: "OH MY GOD SHE IS DEAD."
Trashman: "Shut the fuck up. Go back to the office and forget you ever saw any of this. Don't call anybody. I'll take care of this. Forget it. Just forget it all."
Mr. Patel: "But she is...."
Trashman: "She's not even here. Miss Smith doesn't exist. Get rid of the paperwork. Go. NOW."
Patel ran back to the office never looking back. I looked around to make sure no one heard his screaming, stepped into the room and closed the door. All I could do was stare at the dead naked bitch and think "What the fuck am I gonna do now?" I called WBG with my cell phone. I wasn't about to touch anything in the room. Except I tried to feel for a pulse. The bitch was already cold.
Trashman: "We've got a problem."
WBG: "Did she skip?"
Trashman: "No. She's here."
WBG: "What's the problem?"
Trashman: "She's dead."
WBG: "HAHAHAHAHA yeah right. Quit fucking around."
Trashman: "I ain't kidding man. She's fucking 86. Looks like she OD'd"
WBG: "Oh fuck."
At this point I started going though her bags looking for my money. I was ripping open drawers, closets, lifting the mattress as best as I could with one hand.
WBG: "Find the fucking money."
Trashman: "I'm looking for the fucking money."
WBG: "What are you gonna do with the carcass?"
Trashman: "Get a hold of JJ and tell him where I'm at."
WBG: "What are you doing with the bitch?"
Trashman: "Fuck you man, you don't need to know shit. Call JJ."
WBG: "Fuck you too man. Find the fucking money."
Trashman: "I just did."
WBG: "How much? All of it?"
Trashman: "$2500 that's $900 more than she should have. Bitch was holding out."
Meanwhile a miracle was taking place behind me. The dead was rising.
Dead Whore: "What's going on man?"
Trashman: "WHAT THE FUCK?"
WBG: "What's happening? "
Dead Whore: "What are you doing with my money?"
Trashman : "FUCK YOU BITCH. PUT SOME FUCKING CLOTHES ON."
WBG: "Who the fuck are you talking to?"
Trashman: "I'm talking to this fucking zombie."
WBG: "Huh?"
Trashman: "The bitch came back to life."
WBG: "Get her the fuck out of there."
Trashman: "You want to handle this shit?"
WBG: "Fuck no."
Trashman: "Then stop telling me what to fucking do."
Dead Whore: "I want my money, man."
Trashman: "Pull the fucking needle out of your arm."
WBG: "When you're done come back to the office."
Trashman: "Blow me."
Dead Whore: "I don't blow anybody."
Trashman: "Not you, skank."
WBG: "HAHAHAHA later."
I put the bitch in the car and headed for Newark, at the first stop light she had already nodded off and when I hit the brakes she fell into the floor board. I did what any decent person would of done and left her there. When I pulled up in front of her house I threw the car in park and got out. I walked around, opened her door and grabbed her under the arms. As I was pulling her out she came to again.
Dead Whore: "Where's my money, man?"
Trashman: "You were a dead junkie whore, now you're a broke junkie whore, you give me any shit and you're going to be a dead junkie whore, again."
Dead Whore: "You ain't right, man."
Trashman: "Fuck you."
I hope you enjoyed the cake and punch.
Special thank you to micki for the new gravatar. SHE remembered my birthday.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
You Talkin' To Me ?
The Trashman has always wanted to speak in the third person, but the Trashman thinks this would hurt the Trashman's business. Think about it, if the Trashman were to walk around saying things like "The Trashman thinks you should paint the walls white." or "The Trashman thinks you should use oak cabinets." then the Trashman's customers would look at the Trashman and say "Are you a fucking idiot?" So the Trashman can't do that, but there is an alternative. Since y'all already know the Trashman is a fucking idiot, then the Trashman can type in the third person. Today the Trashman is going to fill you in on a few things and the Trashman is also going to address some of the comments from the Trashman's last post. But first the Trashman is going to stop typing in the third person because the Trashman is even starting to annoy the Trashman.
First, last Thursday I received a call from a low ranking government employee. The call went like this.
LRGE: "Stop with the conspiracy posts or we're going to pull up in front of your house in a black van and make you disappear."
Trashman: "I figured I would be spending some time in Guantanamo Bay."
LRGE: "Gitmo is easy. We've got something a lot worse for home-grown fuckers like you."
Trashman: "OK."
LRGE: "I'll be back in touch."
Trashman: "OK."
I haven't heard from him since. I won't lie to you, when I first received the threat I thought maybe I would stop. Then I figured fuck-em. I AIN'T SKEERED.
Nightmare, I'm counting on you to have my back.
Now on to the comments.
Jack said: Dude...whatever you're smoking, just stop it. You're sounding more and more like some kinda militia nutjob with every post.
There's no conspiracy. The government isn't pitting the races against each other (rap music does that.) Nobody is listening to your phone calls or checking out your bank accounts. Read past the alarmist headlines, bro.
Seriously...Prozac. Check it out. Much love, even though you're crazy as hell.
Jack, I'm smoking Marlboros. I am a nut job. See the beginning of this post, it proves there are conspiracies. Prozac is for light weights. I get high on my own brain waves.
Shoe said: no doubt, what jack said, you're obviously on crack
Shoe the only crack I'm on is... well that's x-rated.
Zelda said: All governments try to hide their corruption, and I'm not excusing it in the U.S. But to say we're the worst is laughable especially coming from a Presidential candidate in a state that borders a completely out of control country - one whose political policy involves mooching off of us to the best of their ability.
Politically speaking, folks don't like a tear down candidate. You have to find the good and build upon that instead of declaring it all bad and destroying it.
Zelda, I have to tear down. I'm counting on the idiot vote. I know my regular readers don't believe I'm really running for president. So I'm counting on all the nut jobs to write in the Trashman on their ballots. I know I won't win, but if there's enough write in votes it will make the news, then I go global. There is a method to my lunacy.
Brighton said: Thank you for the Happy Birthday wish : )
And as usual, you know you have my vote.
Can the Dixie Chicks play though?
Brighton, you're welcome, thank you and the only thing the dixie chicks can play with is my nut sack (after a really hot day at work).
The rest of y'all (magz, Inanna, ) want to know how I plan to change things. Welfare reform (no more welfare) Tax reform (flat sales tax rate, no more income tax). Immigration reform (close our borders). Education reform (college for those that can't afford it). Plus I plan on getting the best advisors money can buy, these advisors will be hand picked by my readers (see I trust y'all to be intelligent).
Other news: I'm thinking about becoming a life coach. As far as I can tell the only thing you need is life experience and business cards. I think I would be pretty good at telling others how to live their lives and charging an obscene amount of money for it. If anyone is interested I would be willing to practice on you for free. Let me know.
Until the next time. Keep on keeping on.
First, last Thursday I received a call from a low ranking government employee. The call went like this.
LRGE: "Stop with the conspiracy posts or we're going to pull up in front of your house in a black van and make you disappear."
Trashman: "I figured I would be spending some time in Guantanamo Bay."
LRGE: "Gitmo is easy. We've got something a lot worse for home-grown fuckers like you."
Trashman: "OK."
LRGE: "I'll be back in touch."
Trashman: "OK."
I haven't heard from him since. I won't lie to you, when I first received the threat I thought maybe I would stop. Then I figured fuck-em. I AIN'T SKEERED.
Nightmare, I'm counting on you to have my back.
Now on to the comments.
Jack said: Dude...whatever you're smoking, just stop it. You're sounding more and more like some kinda militia nutjob with every post.
There's no conspiracy. The government isn't pitting the races against each other (rap music does that.) Nobody is listening to your phone calls or checking out your bank accounts. Read past the alarmist headlines, bro.
Seriously...Prozac. Check it out. Much love, even though you're crazy as hell.
Jack, I'm smoking Marlboros. I am a nut job. See the beginning of this post, it proves there are conspiracies. Prozac is for light weights. I get high on my own brain waves.
Shoe said: no doubt, what jack said, you're obviously on crack
Shoe the only crack I'm on is... well that's x-rated.
Zelda said: All governments try to hide their corruption, and I'm not excusing it in the U.S. But to say we're the worst is laughable especially coming from a Presidential candidate in a state that borders a completely out of control country - one whose political policy involves mooching off of us to the best of their ability.
Politically speaking, folks don't like a tear down candidate. You have to find the good and build upon that instead of declaring it all bad and destroying it.
Zelda, I have to tear down. I'm counting on the idiot vote. I know my regular readers don't believe I'm really running for president. So I'm counting on all the nut jobs to write in the Trashman on their ballots. I know I won't win, but if there's enough write in votes it will make the news, then I go global. There is a method to my lunacy.
Brighton said: Thank you for the Happy Birthday wish : )
And as usual, you know you have my vote.
Can the Dixie Chicks play though?
Brighton, you're welcome, thank you and the only thing the dixie chicks can play with is my nut sack (after a really hot day at work).
The rest of y'all (magz, Inanna, ) want to know how I plan to change things. Welfare reform (no more welfare) Tax reform (flat sales tax rate, no more income tax). Immigration reform (close our borders). Education reform (college for those that can't afford it). Plus I plan on getting the best advisors money can buy, these advisors will be hand picked by my readers (see I trust y'all to be intelligent).
Other news: I'm thinking about becoming a life coach. As far as I can tell the only thing you need is life experience and business cards. I think I would be pretty good at telling others how to live their lives and charging an obscene amount of money for it. If anyone is interested I would be willing to practice on you for free. Let me know.
Until the next time. Keep on keeping on.
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
We The People
Two hundred and thirty years ago our fore fathers signed the Declaration of Independence. They were fed up with the tyranny and oppression of British rule. I'm pretty sure that they had no idea that they were setting the wheels in motion for the new government to be as tyrannical and oppressive if not more so. When John Hancock and those other guys signed the document they were trying to free the people of this great nation. Now, once again we are being ruled by an out of control governing body.
This is still the greatest nation in the world and I wouldn't want to live anywhere else. Yet it's time for some corrections to be made. Our government is one of the most corrupt in the world. The fiasco after Katrina proves this. There's not a single office of the government that is not muddied with dirty politics. Every time you turn on the news, there's another politician taking bribes. The government is not there for the people, it's there to control the people. Now before you right wingers get out of control, this has nothing to do with GW. This is ALL government. Republican or Democrat, it doesn't matter, it's all about control.
The powers that be control every move we make. They keep us against each other, rich against poor, black against white, haves against have nots. By doing this we don't pay attention to what they are doing. And what they are doing is ruing this country. GW tried to give away our ports to the enemy. Rep. William J. Jefferson sold his power to the highest bidder. Tom Delay has been indicted on charges ranging from money laundering to soliciting and receiving illegal corporate contributions.
Franklin Roosevelt started the downfall of our country with his "social" programs. More like socialism programs. He made it OK to be a bum. He made it OK to live off the hard working tax payers. He made it OK to expect the government to take care of you. He started it all by making the people dependent instead of independent.
Every president after Roosevelt has only made things worse. Nixon and his "revenue sharing". Kennedy and his entire family (he killed Marilyn Monroe). Reagan and his voodoo economics. Carter was and is just a joke. Clinton is a pervert (I can almost respect that) but not the lying and cheating or the killing of Vince Foster. Every one of them crooked, also I think there used to be some clown named Ford. Let's not forget the Bush's, two of the most corrupt.
GW has OK'ed the listening in on our conversations and watching our bank accounts. Some people say they're not worried because they have done nothing wrong. That's the attitude they want you to have. It makes taking away other rights a lot easier. I refuse to stand for it. The preamble of our Constitution reads as follows.
"We hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created equal, that they are endowed, by their Creator, with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness.
That to secure these Rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just Powers from the Consent of the Governed, that whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these Ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its Foundation on such Principles, and organizing its Powers in such Form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.
Prudence indeed, will dictate, that Governments long established, should not be changed for light and transient Causes; and accordingly all Experience hath shewn, that Mankind are more disposed to suffer, while Evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the Forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long Train of Abuses and Usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object, evinces a Design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their Right, it is their Duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future Security."
Pay close attention to the part I made bold. What this means is once a government gets out of control with abuse of power (much like ours is) it's time to revamp and create a new government. It means it's time for the people to step up and take back our independence. It's time for us to stop the abuse of power. It's time for us to declare our independence from tyranny and oppression. It's time for us to stop rolling over. It's time for us to stop taking it in the ass. You may think your celebrating Independence Day but you really celebrate Independence Days Past.
Stand with me against this corrupt system. Stand with me for what is right. Stand with me for what our fore fathers fought and died for. Stand with me for America.
Trashman, Mom and Apple Pie. Could you get more American? Vote for me, anything else would be unpatriotic.
This is still the greatest nation in the world and I wouldn't want to live anywhere else. Yet it's time for some corrections to be made. Our government is one of the most corrupt in the world. The fiasco after Katrina proves this. There's not a single office of the government that is not muddied with dirty politics. Every time you turn on the news, there's another politician taking bribes. The government is not there for the people, it's there to control the people. Now before you right wingers get out of control, this has nothing to do with GW. This is ALL government. Republican or Democrat, it doesn't matter, it's all about control.
The powers that be control every move we make. They keep us against each other, rich against poor, black against white, haves against have nots. By doing this we don't pay attention to what they are doing. And what they are doing is ruing this country. GW tried to give away our ports to the enemy. Rep. William J. Jefferson sold his power to the highest bidder. Tom Delay has been indicted on charges ranging from money laundering to soliciting and receiving illegal corporate contributions.
Franklin Roosevelt started the downfall of our country with his "social" programs. More like socialism programs. He made it OK to be a bum. He made it OK to live off the hard working tax payers. He made it OK to expect the government to take care of you. He started it all by making the people dependent instead of independent.
Every president after Roosevelt has only made things worse. Nixon and his "revenue sharing". Kennedy and his entire family (he killed Marilyn Monroe). Reagan and his voodoo economics. Carter was and is just a joke. Clinton is a pervert (I can almost respect that) but not the lying and cheating or the killing of Vince Foster. Every one of them crooked, also I think there used to be some clown named Ford. Let's not forget the Bush's, two of the most corrupt.
GW has OK'ed the listening in on our conversations and watching our bank accounts. Some people say they're not worried because they have done nothing wrong. That's the attitude they want you to have. It makes taking away other rights a lot easier. I refuse to stand for it. The preamble of our Constitution reads as follows.
"We hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created equal, that they are endowed, by their Creator, with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness.
That to secure these Rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just Powers from the Consent of the Governed, that whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these Ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its Foundation on such Principles, and organizing its Powers in such Form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.
Prudence indeed, will dictate, that Governments long established, should not be changed for light and transient Causes; and accordingly all Experience hath shewn, that Mankind are more disposed to suffer, while Evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the Forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long Train of Abuses and Usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object, evinces a Design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their Right, it is their Duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future Security."
Pay close attention to the part I made bold. What this means is once a government gets out of control with abuse of power (much like ours is) it's time to revamp and create a new government. It means it's time for the people to step up and take back our independence. It's time for us to stop the abuse of power. It's time for us to declare our independence from tyranny and oppression. It's time for us to stop rolling over. It's time for us to stop taking it in the ass. You may think your celebrating Independence Day but you really celebrate Independence Days Past.
Stand with me against this corrupt system. Stand with me for what is right. Stand with me for what our fore fathers fought and died for. Stand with me for America.
Trashman, Mom and Apple Pie. Could you get more American? Vote for me, anything else would be unpatriotic.
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Dirty Laundry
Since today is fathers day I thought I would tell a little bit about dear old dad. I think a lot of our behavior is decided by genetics as well as upbringing. So this may give you a little insight into my mind. I'm not like my dad yet I'm exactly like him. I know that's a contradiction but I'm a walking contradiction anyway.
This story covers about 11 years. In 1972 I met my dad for the first time, I was eight years old. He moved in almost instantly. The next four years were filled with emotional and mental abuse for my mother as well as me and my brother. Dad constantly cheated on my mom, mostly with his best friends wife. In 1976, dad whipped mom's ass one too many times, he had stupidly taught her how to use a gun. For this part of the story I'm going to refer to dad as OT (Original Trash). After he finished whipping her ass he went across the street and was drinking beer with his friend Jimmy.
Mom eventually managed to drag her ass off the floor. She got dads .22 pistol from their bedroom and headed across the street with me and my brother close behind. We knew this was going to be good. Mom walked up the front steps and right in the door, dad has his back to her and Jimmy's eyes were the biggest I had ever seen on a human. Jimmy screamed "LOOK OUT OT, SHE'S GOT A GUN." My dad jumped up from his chair and spun around. Faster than you could blink my mom shot him in the head. From about eight feet away she placed a bullet squarely in the middle of his forehead, he dropped like somebody that was just shot in the head. Unfortunately I come from a very hard headed bunch of people. My dad popped up from the floor like a psychotic Jack-In-The-Box, he had blooded running down his face and now he was really pissed. He grabbed the gun out of her hand and beat her with it until he got bored, meanwhile Jimmy got a fresh beer and went to check on something in the back yard.
Six months later they got into it again, this time mom used a new approach. She got the biggest butcher knife in the house and sat down on the couch across from him. Mom said "If you move, I'm going to kill you. If you don't move, I'm going to wait for you to go to sleep and THEN I'm going to kill you." Mom fell asleep first. Dad stepped into my room and told us that we knew where to find him if we ever needed him and he was gone from our lives.
Mom packed us up and we moved from North Texas to West Texas. She kept tabs on him for the next couple of years (she never stopped loving him). We found out he killed his best friend and married the widow. The widow died from cancer and dad wound up inheriting two bars. After that he disappeared.
Fast forward to 1983-84 (somewhere in there). I was working at The Armadillo Run, the phone rang and when I answered it the guy on the other end was asking to talk to me.
Trash: "Armadillo Run."
OT: "Can I speak to Trash?"
Trash: "This is him."
OT: "Hey son. It's me. OT"
Trash: "This some kind of joke?"
OT: "No. Your brother G found me and told me where to find you."
Trash: "What do you want?"
OT: "I want you to come to Oklahoma and work at one of my bars. I'll send you the money to get here."
Trash: "Send it."
I went to see my mom that night to tell her I was going to see dad. It wasn't pretty.
Mom: "You're doing what?"
Trash: "I'm going to see OT."
Mom: "You're no son of mine."
Trash: "It's something I have to do."
Mom: "Why?"
Trash: "Unanswered questions."
Mom: "I'll answer them."
Trash: "You can't answer these. They have to be asked a certain way."
Mom: "If you go after him, he'll kill you."
Trash: "He's older and slower."
Mom: "That doesn't make him any less deadlier."
Trash: "I can take him."
Mom: "Don't turn your back on him."
Trash: "Mom, I think I know what I'm doing."
Mom: "Well if you have to go then you have to go. I may never see you again."
Trash: "I'll be back someday."
As I walked out her door she said something the people in my family doesn't say very often. She said "I love you". I should have known then that I was in trouble.
When I arrived in Oklahoma I went straight to his house. I knocked on the door and OT answered. He hadn't changed much. Just a little older. He was 63 and still looked hard as rock. But he was older and I was 19. I was younger and faster and I had skills (or so I thought). I had had my share of fights and then some. Deep down I think I was preparing for this moment. The moment where I could make this son of a bitch pay and he was going to pay. I was going to take every beating my mom or my brother or I had ever received from this asshole out of his hide. I guess he could tell my intentions by the look on my face or maybe it was just the animal instinct he had inherited from the junk yard dog that had mothered him.
OT: "Well I guess you want to kick my ass?"
Trash: "Yep."
OT: "So I sent you the money so you could come up here and kick my ass?"
Trash: "Yep."
OT: "You know you're not the first one to try it, right?"
Trash: "Yep."
OT: "You sure you want to do this?"
Trash: "Yep."
OT: "I can't talk you out of it?"
Trash: "Nope."
OT: "I wish we didn't have to do this."
Trash: "Why, you scared old man?" (wrong thing to say)
OT: "Get in the yard so we don't break nuthin."
Remember mom told me not to turn my back on him. Well I forgot. I turned and walked down the steps into the yard, when I turned back around he hit me in the face with a 2X4. OT proceeded to beat me with the hunk of lumber, not hard enough to kill me or do any major damage but hard enough to hurt for a long time. When it came to handing out beatings the old man knew what he was doing. After he was done he stood there looking down at the pile of me in the yard.
OT: "You had enough?"
Trash: "Yep."
OT: "Then get up."
Trash: "You're getting soft."
OT: "What makes you think so?"
Trash: "You didn't kill me."
OT: "You can't kill your own kids. It just ain't right."
Trash: "But you can kill your best friend?"
OT: "Sometimes when another man has what you want, you just have to take from him."
Trash: "So it's true?"
OT: "Not a word of it."
Trash: "How come you ran away from her?"
OT: "She was going to kill me."
Trash: "All you had to do was stop beating her."
OT: "Yeah I know. You know of all the women I've had, your momma was the only one I ever loved."
Trash: "Bullshit. You've never loved anyone."
OT: "Yeah. You're probably right."
I was in Oklahoma for six months. OT never gave me the job he promised me. I saw him maybe once or twice a month. He tried to sell me a piece of shit pick-up for way too much money. You can't kill your own kids but you can cheat them out of money. I started selling him weed for his arthritis and he married for about the 15th time. She was 36 and attractive. He kicked her ass on a regular basis. When I left town I stopped by to say good bye. He was out of town. She was recovering from a beating. I got her stoned and we had barn yard sex. Maybe I'm a lover and not a fighter.
This story covers about 11 years. In 1972 I met my dad for the first time, I was eight years old. He moved in almost instantly. The next four years were filled with emotional and mental abuse for my mother as well as me and my brother. Dad constantly cheated on my mom, mostly with his best friends wife. In 1976, dad whipped mom's ass one too many times, he had stupidly taught her how to use a gun. For this part of the story I'm going to refer to dad as OT (Original Trash). After he finished whipping her ass he went across the street and was drinking beer with his friend Jimmy.
Mom eventually managed to drag her ass off the floor. She got dads .22 pistol from their bedroom and headed across the street with me and my brother close behind. We knew this was going to be good. Mom walked up the front steps and right in the door, dad has his back to her and Jimmy's eyes were the biggest I had ever seen on a human. Jimmy screamed "LOOK OUT OT, SHE'S GOT A GUN." My dad jumped up from his chair and spun around. Faster than you could blink my mom shot him in the head. From about eight feet away she placed a bullet squarely in the middle of his forehead, he dropped like somebody that was just shot in the head. Unfortunately I come from a very hard headed bunch of people. My dad popped up from the floor like a psychotic Jack-In-The-Box, he had blooded running down his face and now he was really pissed. He grabbed the gun out of her hand and beat her with it until he got bored, meanwhile Jimmy got a fresh beer and went to check on something in the back yard.
Six months later they got into it again, this time mom used a new approach. She got the biggest butcher knife in the house and sat down on the couch across from him. Mom said "If you move, I'm going to kill you. If you don't move, I'm going to wait for you to go to sleep and THEN I'm going to kill you." Mom fell asleep first. Dad stepped into my room and told us that we knew where to find him if we ever needed him and he was gone from our lives.
Mom packed us up and we moved from North Texas to West Texas. She kept tabs on him for the next couple of years (she never stopped loving him). We found out he killed his best friend and married the widow. The widow died from cancer and dad wound up inheriting two bars. After that he disappeared.
Fast forward to 1983-84 (somewhere in there). I was working at The Armadillo Run, the phone rang and when I answered it the guy on the other end was asking to talk to me.
Trash: "Armadillo Run."
OT: "Can I speak to Trash?"
Trash: "This is him."
OT: "Hey son. It's me. OT"
Trash: "This some kind of joke?"
OT: "No. Your brother G found me and told me where to find you."
Trash: "What do you want?"
OT: "I want you to come to Oklahoma and work at one of my bars. I'll send you the money to get here."
Trash: "Send it."
I went to see my mom that night to tell her I was going to see dad. It wasn't pretty.
Mom: "You're doing what?"
Trash: "I'm going to see OT."
Mom: "You're no son of mine."
Trash: "It's something I have to do."
Mom: "Why?"
Trash: "Unanswered questions."
Mom: "I'll answer them."
Trash: "You can't answer these. They have to be asked a certain way."
Mom: "If you go after him, he'll kill you."
Trash: "He's older and slower."
Mom: "That doesn't make him any less deadlier."
Trash: "I can take him."
Mom: "Don't turn your back on him."
Trash: "Mom, I think I know what I'm doing."
Mom: "Well if you have to go then you have to go. I may never see you again."
Trash: "I'll be back someday."
As I walked out her door she said something the people in my family doesn't say very often. She said "I love you". I should have known then that I was in trouble.
When I arrived in Oklahoma I went straight to his house. I knocked on the door and OT answered. He hadn't changed much. Just a little older. He was 63 and still looked hard as rock. But he was older and I was 19. I was younger and faster and I had skills (or so I thought). I had had my share of fights and then some. Deep down I think I was preparing for this moment. The moment where I could make this son of a bitch pay and he was going to pay. I was going to take every beating my mom or my brother or I had ever received from this asshole out of his hide. I guess he could tell my intentions by the look on my face or maybe it was just the animal instinct he had inherited from the junk yard dog that had mothered him.
OT: "Well I guess you want to kick my ass?"
Trash: "Yep."
OT: "So I sent you the money so you could come up here and kick my ass?"
Trash: "Yep."
OT: "You know you're not the first one to try it, right?"
Trash: "Yep."
OT: "You sure you want to do this?"
Trash: "Yep."
OT: "I can't talk you out of it?"
Trash: "Nope."
OT: "I wish we didn't have to do this."
Trash: "Why, you scared old man?" (wrong thing to say)
OT: "Get in the yard so we don't break nuthin."
Remember mom told me not to turn my back on him. Well I forgot. I turned and walked down the steps into the yard, when I turned back around he hit me in the face with a 2X4. OT proceeded to beat me with the hunk of lumber, not hard enough to kill me or do any major damage but hard enough to hurt for a long time. When it came to handing out beatings the old man knew what he was doing. After he was done he stood there looking down at the pile of me in the yard.
OT: "You had enough?"
Trash: "Yep."
OT: "Then get up."
Trash: "You're getting soft."
OT: "What makes you think so?"
Trash: "You didn't kill me."
OT: "You can't kill your own kids. It just ain't right."
Trash: "But you can kill your best friend?"
OT: "Sometimes when another man has what you want, you just have to take from him."
Trash: "So it's true?"
OT: "Not a word of it."
Trash: "How come you ran away from her?"
OT: "She was going to kill me."
Trash: "All you had to do was stop beating her."
OT: "Yeah I know. You know of all the women I've had, your momma was the only one I ever loved."
Trash: "Bullshit. You've never loved anyone."
OT: "Yeah. You're probably right."
I was in Oklahoma for six months. OT never gave me the job he promised me. I saw him maybe once or twice a month. He tried to sell me a piece of shit pick-up for way too much money. You can't kill your own kids but you can cheat them out of money. I started selling him weed for his arthritis and he married for about the 15th time. She was 36 and attractive. He kicked her ass on a regular basis. When I left town I stopped by to say good bye. He was out of town. She was recovering from a beating. I got her stoned and we had barn yard sex. Maybe I'm a lover and not a fighter.
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