such is life

Hey kids…

Today I want to talk about life, love and the pursuit of happiness. I’ve written a few posting regarding my personal life and, for one reason or another, didn’t publish them. This is one of those posts.

Whether you are a friend that reads this because you know me, or a reader that is getting to know me, or it’s your first time here…here is my take on today…

We live in a world full of uncertainties, and if you believe in fate, we swirl around in it like turds in the toilet waiting on that particular moment that we disappear; flushed away…

Now he will wax poetic…

We are into the fall of the year. My favorite season. The temperatures cool, “the autumn moon lights my way.”, (bonus points if you know the quote) and the earth gives us its hearty bounty and prepares for its own hibernation and rejuvenation.

The kids are back in school and the house has grown quiet for the family folk. An almost eerie stillness falls over suburban neighborhoods. Folks find their routines again and life returns to “normal.” Whatever that is, I’m sure I don’t know and it will never so much as touch me.

My few attempts at it have been jokes at best. Not really in the funny sort of way, but should you try to turn spots to stripes you just end up looking silly.

I’m sitting on my patio in Portland-Fucking-Oregon drinking a beer and pecking at my laptop while my lady friend’s cat mewls behind me perhaps simply waiting just as I find myself doing.

I’ve been in Portland now for 16 long ass fucking years. In that time, I’ve had maybe 6 months combined where I thought I liked it, but the truth is the only reason I’m here is for my daughter. Or rather a promise I made to both of us. That promise is that I wouldn’t leave her. My promise, my love for her, is more than my desire to be somewhere else, do something else or be with someone else.

She’s going to be 15 years old in just over a few days and I hate it. I wanted her to be 8 years old forever. I’m going to hit my half century mark on Christmas day this year, and the best time of my whole life was the summer when she was 8. It was pure magic.

Now she’s a full blown teenager. Dad isn’t nearly as rad, and, for her, time is much better spent with friends.

In the middle of April this year I met my lady friend. She drives a beat to shit barely running Volkswagen something, dresses from thrift stores and has the furniture to match. She is beautiful, plain, nerdy, doesn’t wear or need make up, and is quiet and unpretentious.

We spent the summer playing. Taking motorcycle rides to nowhere just to be out and away. We had great talks, grilled many dinners just off this patio, foraged mushrooms and fucked in the woods. It was pretty fucking great. We, my lady friend and I, took a strong liking to each other, and in July she moved in with me.

As I move towards more history than future I can’t help but think about ending my affair with this city and retiring to a small town, open a little home cookin’ style café and live out my last days telling war stories in the local tavern with my lady sitting next to me rolling her eyes at how I embellish the tellings she’s heard no less than a hundred times. She enjoys my rhetoric, but wants to be home making dinner with me and then cuddle on the couch watching a movie once in a while. I tell her that though I’ve never been a huge fan of people, I’m ironically social. I need the interaction and entertainment of others. It truly has been my way.

The small town cravings of my mid-sized life seem so far away and so near at the same time. As my lady and I toured around on the motorcycle (the bike that I swear is my only real freedom) we stopped in depressed, yet happy, small towns and just observed. We talked about running away all the time, but knew that we wouldn’t earn enough to sustain the “golden years.”

Starting before my lady friend and I had met, I had taken a time out from kitchen work, well mostly, and figured that I should start thinking about the fact that I’m getting old. I guess most people do such things on approach.

I took my first corporate job. (as an under chef. My past had only seen me as the boss. No. Not Bruce Springsteen.) I took this position with a lot of enthusiasm as it offered good benefits, retirement, upward mobility and relocation potential that seemed more promise than potential.

Anyway, I wrote an entire post about that experience but my lady friend, more or less, talked me out of publishing it because, ooooh, Portland people would know who I was talking about. Suffice it to say, for me, the corporate job was a complete shit show and an untenable situation. In under three weeks I walked. No notice and no hard feelings. (I think)

My lady friend is in the same business and actually works at the restaurant literally two doors down. So after I grabbed my knife bag heading out of the corporate world, and on my way to my motorcycle, I texted her to meet me outside. I gave her the news. She knew it was coming, but I guess really didn’t expect it if that makes sense.

On my ride home (thank God for that motorcycle) my mind returned to the small town dreams of an easy life growing old and fading into an existence far away from the stresses of running kitchens, city life and “San Francisco cocksuckers” (more bonus points if you get that reference) and finding that certain white noise to spend the last few fleeting moments off the road well-traveled.

I went back to working with a friend that I had been helping out while I searched for this untenable corporate job. It’s pretty cool work, great hours that include three day weekends. It keeps a knife in my hand and offers pretty much zero stress. Completely different from running a restaurant. COMPLETELY.

About a month ago I noticed subtle (negative) changes in my lady friend that quickly became more pronounced.

As her changes became too pronounced to ignore I ask her to join me here on the patio, where I am sitting now, to discuss whatever the fuck is happening.

She with a glass of Rose and me with a beer we convene…I, in an emotional vent, said that sometimes love isn’t enough to make a relationship work. There are few truer statements. In that moment we agreed. A mutual decision was made to separate our lives, being changed by our time together, and to return to our lives without each other. Simple on paper, right?

She has uncanny way of falling asleep in a second, much like her cat, at any given moment. So she just went to bed without any reason or resolve of the problem I was addressing. I gave thought to the conversation of vagueness and the lack of issue regarding issues and, as is my way, took a mental inventory.

Our relationship had yet to be truly tried. There had been moments where things weren’t amazing, but duh, that is how it goes. We were, and still are, absent of arguments, yelling or calling names or any of the other insane bullshit most relationships bear. It would never come to that. And I say that with all honesty. Atypical I know, but true.

Within my ruminations of the past six months I found nothing actually wrong. She isn’t the greatest of communicators, but I have a fairly good read on folks. Especially on those I’m close to, but, then again, she is a quiet one.

In my life I have missed many things. Missed them because they weren’t there any longer. Missed them because I never knew them. Missed them because I failed to catch. So, I thought of my life before I met her. I thought of my life since meeting her. I thought of my life being with her. And then I thought of my life without her. That thought was grey. I couldn’t pull it into focus. And not to romanticize, but I felt it was because we weren’t done.

The next day we went about everything normally. After making love, we again convened on the patio. I gave her my thoughts from my ruminations, realizations and the lack of effort on both our parts. This is an ironic statement considering the quote from my past I spoke to her last night.

She then told me she had found a place but couldn’t move until the end of October. I thought to myself, okay, perhaps whatever is going wrong will right itself between now and then. It only got weirder. Worse.

A few days’ pass…we had both just settled in after our work day, and, again, on the patio…we talk…

The conversation begins where she says she doesn’t know where to begin, but suddenly she does. She goes into a soliloquy about her ex, and the fact that he didn’t have a job for the last three years they were together. (ok?) Then she goes on to say that she wants to go out to eat every night and we can’t afford it. (huh?)  Is this really what first comes to mind from my unpretentious little thrift store girl? Is this really issue number one? Umm…yes? money. Here’s where I go. “That should have been on page one and we would never have wasted each other’s time.” The sweet little woman I met back in April disappeared as the words past her lips. The lips I loved to kiss so much. I sat staring at her then not knowing who she was.

I have no aspirations of being wealthy in the monetary sense. That isn’t happiness. I’m beginning to realize I don’t know what either is, by definition, to most folk. Wealth or happiness.

The conversation continues, but it’s needless. Point number one was on the shallowest of ground that a puddle couldn’t form and all around me it was pouring down rain.

Here’s a situation presented where one of two has just said we don’t have enough. The other says I have no more. THE END. Right?

Then I actually really start thinking, wondering and questioning.

She, the month prior I’ve been telling you about, had brought home near constant talk of a new coworker. Her “only friend.” The Chef for a new, yet unopened place owned by the same people she works for. It all coincides with the changes I’ve seen in her. Just a coincidence? What would you think, dear reader? I mean given the scenario I just gave you, would you see something like a lie dripping off of someone’s chin?

I merely ask. I’m suspicious, but not accusatory. She gets fucking agitated, red faced and raises her voice.

It gets better…(worse?)

Her plans to move become immediate. She tells me that this coworker is going to help her move her things. “He’s all I’ve got. I have no one else to help me.”

Now whether this be my past making assumptions, or the truth of a lie I’ve been told, I tell her it would be a really bad fucking idea to bring him to MY HOME.

She gets verbosely defensive. Again. In my life’s experience, this is generally a product of guilt. I wasn’t angry before that point. Then, well, I got angry.

He will not be coming to my home. All of her will be vacant within my walls in two days’ time. The flow will become ebb. Calm will return.

But right now, I feel…I think…does it matter what happened? Whatever it was, it just happened.

It boils down to this…and correct me if I’m wrong…

It takes much effort to become effortless. Don’t pray for an easy life; pray for the strength to endure a difficult one. Or, if all you really want is money then pray the opposite. Greener pastures? Go for it.

Maybe a better way to put it is to quote something my mama used to say; “Want in one hand and shit in the other. Tell me which gets full first.”


Tonight I’ll sleep alone. Tomorrow morning I’ll wake the same way. My routine restarts. It’s coming into fall. The kids are back at school. Hibernation. Rejuvenation.


Hate Crimes and Humanity

There a very few reliable sources for news today. And by that I mean unbiased, unbridled, bi-partisan and trustworthy anatomically correct reporting: Al Jazeera, BBC, The Associated Press and (me)

Once again I have been accused of inappropriate verbiage and had my blog temporarily shuttered. It took me a few minutes to even be able to sign in after the embargo was lifted with the promise that I would be a good boy.

That being said…

Let’s talk about hate crimes for a bit, kids. (notice the political correctness? I wasn’t gender specific. sickening fucking bullshit, boys and girls)

We all know of the typical hate crimes involving race, sexual orientation, religion, etc.

Even here in Portland-Fucking-Oregon, the most white bread cracker-town in America, folks are getting wonky. Mostly in the passive aggressive Portland way. But…

I read this morning about a bartender leaving work after closing and cleaning up. He is a gay man that works at a gay club in Old Town.

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A group of white punks (we just don’t have enough people of color here to perpetrate all the crimes) start giving him shit and the bartender asks them to leave him be. One of the punks proceeds to follow him and attack him at a crosswalk just a couple of blocks down the street. The bartender starts back towards the bar he had just left, presumably to get some help, when another one of the little fucks kicks him in the head.

When the cops arrive, the main instigator and the bartender are the only ones left that were involved. The cops arrested the punk kid, 20 years old and homeless, and cart his sorry ass off to jail.

The cops released a statement this morning warning people to be careful while walking in this neighborhood at night because it is dangerous. Really? Tell me you’re fucking kidding. Perhaps patrol the area? You know, do your fucking job?

This ties in to several issues I have written about here.

The homeless sympathy and subsequent crimes related to it are being coddled.

While there have been a few neighborhoods demanding the removal of homeless camps all that is happening is the “unhoused” (as mayor Charlie Hales puts it. more fucking pc garbage) are packing their stolen shopping carts and pushing them down the street to set up camp a few blocks away. It doesn’t solve a fucking thing. And now our police are telling US to be careful leaving work or strolling our neighborhoods! WTF?!?!?!?!?

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So here, aside from the obvious, is a hate crime in a much broader scope. You see our officials HATE to do their jobs. They HATE to admit the problems are severe, let alone exist. It’s a CRIME, dammit!

The PC thing to do is keep the problems quiet and draw accolades for helping the “less fortunate.” Let’s build the unhoused homes. Let’s set up more soup kitchens. Let’s start more handout programs. Let’s take tax dollars from our children’s education, the elderly’s social security and improvements to the fucking town to set these fuckers up real nice so they have a better place to go after they rob, rape, beg and beat on people leaving work. I want to fucking go to city hall and shit on the floor as a reminder of what the sidewalks look like where the homeless drug addicted and drunken criminal society drop-outs park their shopping carts. Let’s protest PC bullshitness. (oooh, a new word)

The burden of being politically correct is turning the country into a bunch of passive aggressive pussies. Except, of course, for the fucktards who take to the streets, including the cops, to create mayhem.

So now, born from hate, another ridiculous HATE group is on the scene. Blue Lives Matter. Huh? No, this isn’t about the Blue Man Group. (which would be a better cause, and, by the way, if you haven’t seen the show; do so! It’s awesome!) Blue Lives Matter is regarding the uptick in police shootings due to the uptick in violent demonstrations by Black Lives Matter. Just one more thing for folks to protest and fight in the streets about. I smell a civil war coming…

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Now let’s talk about some real hate…

Poli (many) tics (blood suckers): a hate crime all its own…

My big number one here is Trump. I truly HATE that fucking guy. Truly. Not a crime. An intelligent decision.

I am loving the slamming anti-Trump ads by the Clinton campaign. They don’t even have to take things out of context to make this idiot look like an idiot.

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I’ve listed so many derogatory remarks uttered by the Cheetos-toned moron that I can’t remember them all, but when I think of them I laugh and puke in my mouth a little. (Do you know how to starve Trump to death? Hide his bankruptcy filings under the presidential oath. I just made that shit up! HAHAHAHA!)

A big hate crime in this presidential run involves military endorsements…meaning the military HATES both candidates.(the Hills later)

Trump boasts he has 88 military endorsements. 88? Out of tens of thousands all you can muster is 88? And of those 88 who stands out? Umm. No one. Four star generals and the other higher ups in the armed forces state they don’t recognize any of the names on the list. Could this be more of Donald’s make-believe friends? Hmm.

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Of course, par for the course, Trumpelstilskin, has created a negative out of what was barely a positive, and has immediately slammed the generals of our active military.

Last night both shitbag and Hills sat with another idiot, Matt Lauer, for the Commander in Chief forum to discuss National Security. Another fucking sad joke involving this election. Do you remember when the seat for the presidency was a serious thing?

Trump’s earlier attack on John McCain for being a loser because he was a POW obviously wasn’t enough. During Trump’s difficult to watch national security commentary, he vowed to replace the generals that are in place currently because they aren’t doing a good enough job. Though Trump is a known draft dodger and can’t remember for sure when his bone spurs went away (poor Donnie) he was deferred FIVE times from the draft. Perhaps it would be in the countries best interest to abandon the idea of the military altogether. All our soldiers should enroll in college and see the doctor about their feet, right?

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And if you’re a woman in the military, according to Trump, why wouldn’t you expect to be sexually assaulted? You are a woman after all. Trump asks, via his favorite form of communication, “What did these geniuses expect when they put men and women together?”

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It’s really hard to take a man seriously that looks like he has an orange chinchilla glued to his head.

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Are these not hate crimes? Perhaps civility and respect would be expected, douchebag.

Trump’s camp…hate crime to “infinity and beyond”…Buzz Lightyear, Toy Story circa 1995.

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Seems like his campaign office has seen more changes than I have socks. It’s obvious, if you want Fuckface von Clownstick to act like an actual presidential candidate, should you want him to act and speak presidentially, you’re a long way from home in his campaign office, Dorothy. “You’re Fired!” (his campaign is very much like “reality tv”)

We’ll just discuss the one major roster change as his office has seen more come and go than I can count.

On August 17th, with just over 80 days left until the election sees us in the booths, Trump replaced Paul Manafort (manafort quit, by the way) with Breitbart executive, Steven Bannon as CEO. His campaign manager.

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Bannon is a troubled soul in his own right and promises to add fuel to the flaming idiot’s derogatory campaign. Bannon has been (allegedly) a wife beater, accused of sexual assault in the workplace and voter registration fraud and, of course, he’s a bigot.

Breitbart is a website, politically bent, that appeared to lean left. Mr. Bannon kept the covert cover while turning it into a shithouse that suited him. He called it the “alt-right.” (what the fuck does that even mean?) It just so happened it was very Trump-like. Anti-Jew, anti-Muslimism, etc.

Trump is a turd tornado. (paraphrased from a comment made by Ben Shapiro, former editor at large of Breitbart) i.e. A SHIT STORM. So why not pull in another country’s worth of outhouses? Trump has been called the most unfit and dangerous man to ever vie for the presidency and Bannon has been called the most dangerous political operative in America. Kismet?

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Trump plays with the “Big Lie Technique.” Lies so big and outrageous that people just assume he’s telling the truth. At least those dumb enough to consider themselves his support.

A Trump supporter once said, “She told me she was bi-partisan. I told her I’d watch, but I’d never let another dude’s wiener near me.”

No one is fact checking anymore. The presidential race has become so comical and audacious that the public looks at it like the Sunday comic strips or Enquirer headlines.

Speaking of headlines…

Here are a few headlines from the Breitbart site under the reign of Bannon…

“Birth Control Makes Women Unattractive and Crazy”

“Would You Rather Your Child Had Feminism or Cancer?”

“Gabby Giffords: The Gun Control Movement’s Human Shield”

“Hoist It High and Proud: The Confederate Flag Proclaims a Glorious   Heritage”

Beautiful stuff, right? Does this sound like would-be quotes from “The Donald”?

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Trump still tells us that he is not our best hope, but our only hope.

This week, Trump said that Putin was a great leader and much better than Obama. (Hmmm. If that’s what I thought and was running for President of the United States of America would I say this out loud? All hail Satan)

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(Did you know that when the secret service asked him to choose his code-name that he said “humble”? I was home alone when I read that and laughed so hard my balls hurt.)

Hillary, on the other hand, has her hands full. She controls a comfortable lead and will no doubt be the next leader of our country. But she is just a polished turd.

Amid the Benghazi controversy, which I’m surprised wasn’t as big an issue when it ACTUALLY HAPPENED and her email scandal (see Watergate) shows her only real strength is Trump’s weakness. His utter stupidity, lack of linear and/or lateral thinking and his ridiculous wavering on issues he actually knows nothing about give Hills a free run. The bitch is doing parkour all over the country while Trump looks on in a wheelchair.

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In Hills corner is a lifetime of political involvement, a certain savvy from a presence in the senate, a former presidential husband and a whole bunch of fucking politicians, both left and right, that don’t want her as president, but want Donald-Fucking-Trump to literally die.

She boasts 95 military endorsements. Again I ask, “Out of tens of thousands?”

The rub…

Hers are all notable career armed forces folk. Respected Generals and Admirals.

(Mitt Romney, whom I would have shit on before ever voting for, had over 500 military endorsements.)

Hills has shown a disregard for American lives, an avid disregard for the laws that are set to govern the nation and its security, and, unfortunately, doesn’t have an opponent in this race. What the fuck happened?

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A vote for Trump is a hate crime. A vote for Hills is a hate crime. A vote for green or independent is a waste and a hate crime. So now what?

Let’s get to the real rub…

Dickface Baby Huey, Kim Jong-un, in North Korea banned sarcasm this week because it only played against his rule. He’s testing nukes bigger than the A-bombs dropped on Hiroshima and laughing his teenage little girl laugh.

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Let’s face facts; this is a guy that has had his family and friends executed. Maniacal recklessness. Do you think he’ll actually hesitate to push the button when the tests results come back positive? (Perhaps it’s the Asian small penis thing? It would still look small in Trump’s tiny hand)

Putin is playing war games with live ammunition. Another one practicing to be a dominant world power.  More maniacal recklessness. And again I’ll state, Trump likes him.

Brown University is putting tampons in the men’s rooms. Melania Trump, the plastic robot wife of “The Donald”, an alleged former high-priced escort (whore) that is an alleged illegal immigrant, still hasn’t answered as promised to tell us the truth. She has just disappeared from the public eye. (I have a feeling more speech writers have been fired and they are currently vetting others) Apple has a new terrorist-friendly iPhone coming, and I want the death penalty to be nationally accepted and immediate in cases of zero doubt. And the best, and worst, part of it all is that it’s 100-fucking-percent true.

Russia and North Korea, as well as China, know our military is weak and divided in two actual wars and spread further thin by the terrorist gang known as ISIS(L). Why the fuck not take advantage to advance? In the wake of the debaucherous presidential race, we are a country distracted and comical to the rest of the world. The U.S. is fucked. Period. We are, simply put, a country at war. At war in Iraq, Afghanistan, quawkfuckinstan, with our own government and each other.

Every single fucking word you’ve just read is part of our actual today and tomorrow, and woefully unquestionable.

Trump is being shown that, aside from plastic prostitutes and failed casinos, he can’t buy everything. And Hills is being shown the way to the presidency due to the aforementioned.

Think of Mozart and then turn on the radio. Music has digressed to the point of a Cro-Magnon beating on a log again. It looks like current politics have mirrored it.

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Hills often quotes, “It takes a village to raise a child.” I say, “It takes a nation to build a president.”

So, who do you hate? What do you hate? And what crime are you willing to commit for it?