Thoughts Out Of Season

My life is one with so many twist and turns, deprivations; filled with anxiety; a life where just making it to sundown with a little food in the house and the ability to flip a light switch and watch the bulb light up are enough to leave a sense of relief. I: Work as a hack for a bunch of crooks who praise God in the morning, fornicate with Harlot in the afternoon and play poker with the Devil at night. Through their smiles and slaps on the back they treat me like a mutt with mange, and rob me too! I have an ex who gets enough money a week to fund an Hammas jihad, a woman who I can readily foresee squatting over my grave and relieving herself on my coffin while the 4-5 other mourners watch. My family and friends think I'm a drug addict because of my past requests for a few dollars to help me feed my kids.Drug addict? LMFAO! I wish I was a drug addict so some of this ever present pain and ill feelings might be soothed at times with a nice case of delirium. I have 4 kids who will p...

It turns out that the old adage - espoused by many and believed by none - that money can't buy happiness has been debunked. A Harvard Professor  found that people who can afford things that are transient, "experiences" as she puts it are generally happier than those that cannot. People who spend freely on "Experiences" such as vacations, eating out with friends, visiting new friends who charge by the hour for their time... were generally happier than those who could only afford "things", such as food, shelter and the occasional Craigslist shopping spree that involves haggling a seller of a $30  watch down to $3.50. To quote: "Because experiences disappear, they let us make up a reality that was amazing and wonderful, and they make us happier," than stuff, Norton said. So in a sense what she really means here is that money can indeed buy happiness in ways that leave us delusional and perhaps borderline schizophrenic 

Let's face it. I'm a 49 year old, broken down , ugly son-of-a-bitch. I wake up 8 a.m having to take a raging piss. I walk over to the toilet. Two hours later the mirror is fogged up, my face is red as an August morning's sun and finally, finally I hear a dribble of water on water. Thankful to god for answering my prayers I turn to the sink and begin to brush my tooth. Working on that doesn't take long. I next turn towards the stairs.  It's only 11 steps but with each step my body parts start screaming at me and each other: Knees: "Loose some weight you fat bastard, you're killing us" Prostate:" Killing you? I'm as bloated as Big Ang's lip from Mob Wives. Every morning I have to hold back a river of human water until this lazy bastard wakes up" Eye: "You got more problems than you think. We can't see shit! Wait until we're crossing the street someday and we don't see that Mac truck coming. The you won't have any...