Just Stop Eating The Crayons

Throughout my life it’s been an established fact that I don’t mix well or tolerate people of the fucktard classification. As well, I’ve made it no secret here on this blog. From an outsider’s point of view it may appear I interact with more than my fair share of fucktards and the more I look into that sad little fact it seems to be more true than I’m willing to admit at the moment. Eventhough I’ve never, that means not even once in my life, claimed to be smart, educated, or well versed in any one particular area which I could be considered an expert, with one exception, I have common sense. I have learned over the years, and pointed it out often, that every situation and/or conversation should have a basis in common sense but often skips that particular rational part and heads straight down the rabbit hole. Which is where I usually stop, so I can grab my shovel and fill in the fucking hole so the ignorance can’t get back out. It’s a beautiful process I use because most people cannot handle my version of blunt sarcasm and don’t know how to react. However, last night I met a young man who was more challenging to me than I could have ever easily imagined possible.

Strangely enough I was at Walmart, getting some Crayons, watercolor paints, brushes, and a large pad of art paper to box up to send to my granddaughter for her 4th birthday which is coming up. Crayons were what I was on the hunt for because the school supplies have yet to recover from being picked over since the start of school this past Monday. Anyway, I spotted what looked like the last big box of Crayons and this younger guy, late 20s, reached in and grabbed it before me. He had the look of victory on his face, as if by mere inches he had beaten me in his imaginary race, while lipping to me in silence “eat shit you fucker” as he smiles to walk away. Meanwhile, an older lady in her probably late 70s asked him where he had found that box of Crayons because she has been looking for the better part of 25 minutes with no luck. He got real close to her and, while talking extremely loud, I guess he assumed she was deaf, began by telling her, “sorry you old bitch, you and that other motherfucker there are shit out of luck so you two slow losers should just move the fuck on and get out of the way”. In my head it took me a minute to process what this douchebag just said to her, the lady now who looks very scared. As he walked away I put my hand on his shoulder and told this piece of shit, in my most civil tone, that he owed this woman an apology immediately. With this cockeyed look he asked me ” and what the fuck would I want to do that!” Which is where my sarcasm came flying out when I told him that “I’d love to explain it to you but I don’t have any Crayons”. I further explained to him what a grand gesture it would be if he were to just hand her the box of Crayons and then walk away. By this time we have sparked the interest of a Walmart manager who asked if there was something she could help with. The dickhead barked off to her the she could kindly fuck off. C’mon man, its just Crayons is all I can think to myself.

And then this man opens the box of Crayons and begins shoveling them into his mouth, chewing them up with his mouth open and slobbery pieces falling out when he tells me ” if y’all want these Crayons so bad y’all can pick the nuggets out of my shit later tonight. ” I know I was just staring at him in amazement as I watched him walk to the line to check out. By this time he was greeted by our friendly boys in blue who kindly helped him find his way outside the store. Well, shit, I guess I’m done here, I checked out, and was waiting on my son in the restroom when the older lady came up to me asked if I minded if she hugged me as she was hugging me. My son caught the end of the hug and then she told him he was lucky he didn’t have a violent dad, and he replied to her saying “my dad isn’t violent but he hates Crayon eating crazies.” She cracked a smile and walked off. As we walked out we see the Crayon eater in the back seat of the patrol car, I wonder how he plans on explaining his behavior to the judge.

On the way home my 14 year old son, now a freshman in high school, explained to how surprised and disappointed he was in the man’s behavior, and while shaking his head he says “some people’s children”. Of course as soon as we get home he started telling his mother about the Crayon eater, who stood there with her jaw dropped in amazement. She explained the ONLY reason his dad didn’t kick this piece of shit’s ass is because he knows he’s too old to be someone’s girlfriend in jail. I guess that does cross my mind. As I think back on this whole thing I’m still left wondering what would posses an individual to eat Crayons to show his victory. I’m reminded that he has already reproduced, I would assume, or maybe the Crayons were for personal use. Fortunately I will NEVER have the displeasure of knowing. Now I get to add him to the growing list of fantastic fucktards I have met in my lifetime. If it matters, I did find some Crayons for my granddaughter, one day I will have to tell her this story if her mother doesn’t beat me to it.

Countdown To The New Year

It becomes evident fast on the day after Christmas that this year, like every year before her, is indeed going to be ending very soon. Many if y’all will spend the next week trying to figure out what wasn’t done this year, what gets carried over to next year, and what will changes y’all want to make. I don’t fucking do it. What is or isn’t done is done, its too late now, its time to focus on the present. Unfortunately, I watch those around me who make excuses to why they didn’t accomplish a goal the set for themself. Want to know why the goal wasn’t reached? There was never intent, words sound good in the mirror and in front of company but often its just vibrations moving through the air, its just words. Promises are the biggest invented problems that man has created, we cheat ourselves for no purpose, and we hurt those we love because we are selfish.

As we, my wife and I, were playing our fifth game of spades, I listened to a compelling story told by my sister in law, who explained that she will be getting back into church because her youngest daughter (3) has been very fascinated with baby Jesus lately. Therefore, in order to broaden her horizons, she will depend on teaching from a stranger instead of taking responsibility. In the end, we walked away with 5 clean wins at spades. As well, I kept my mouth shut to keep the family peace. There are three things I don’t talk about with friends and family, religion, politics, and football. Because of this I live a peaceful life, because of this I still like my in-laws. I avoid conflicts on purpose because they are battle engagements that I do not deem having a purpose personally.

Before cards began, before we ate, and before opening presents over there I was approached by my niece (13 1/2 y/o) about helping her create a blog. Her mother chimed in and told me if I was going to help her get started please don’t make it suck like mine does. Can y’all tell, her mother is not a fan yet she tells her daughter to ask me because she doesn’t have a clue. Hell, I don’t have a clue yet and I’ve been up to no good blogging for some time now. In reality, my blog is not a good example, so we explored some of my friend’s blogs which are very impressive. She had a favorite, the blog of a poet, one I share allot of her content here, because that is what my niece is interested in, art and poetry. Fantastic, two things I know very little about. So, we spent time exploring, reading, and having ideas, but no blog was spawned. I was asked, by her mother, not to have a link to her daughters blog on mine as she will not host a link to mine either. Fair enough.

In the end, yesterday reminded me why I don’t dwell in the past or make resolutions for the future, it let’s me live today without being bothered by things I cannot change. What is done is done, it is what it is, the milk has already been spilled so to say. I lead a quiet boring life on purpose, I don’t like other people’s drama, and I refuse to get sucked into someone else’s little slice of hell. Oh, that reminds me, I need to put out an email I got this week from a friend I used to work with, because it shows how one person who is determined to change her life made it happen.

I will leave y’all with a final thought today. If you let people drag you down you can only blame yourself. It is your own responsibility to live your life. Only you have control over your happiness. Only you can be in charge of your life. And only you can be responsible for you.

Words Are The Double Edged Sword

What we have here today……… Is a failure to communicate. Everyday in our daily lives we encounter those people who are not capable of telling the truth, to speak without lies, to give excuses not reasons, and fail to be accountable for their words or actions. Why do we allow this to keep happening? The growing trend is having an excuse instead of a reason, to push off responsibility instead of having accountability. Does it bother you that few people want to own what they say or do?

“When people give you excuses day after day, think of them as sandpaper. Eventhough this may scratch and irritate you, you will end up polished in the end and they end up becoming useless.” The first time my dad told me that statement because I was complaining about something I don’t even remember, he told me to think about it anytime someone wants to give an excuse over a reason, therefore not wanting to be held accountable. That statement comes in to play often in my life because I really dislike 2 things people do on a very regular basis, feed me bullshit and/or lie to me. I think the main reason I ask why or wtf so often is because I have little faith that people are capable of telling the whole truth. I question almost everything because there is truth in every word not spoken.

Am I’m alone in my quest for wanting everyone to be responsible for their words and actions, therefore being able to be held accountable. I really wonder if it is easier to lie and bullshit then to make an effort to be forthcoming. My wife tells me I’m guilty of judging people not for what they are saying, but for what they are not saying. I used to not know exactly how to take that observational comment, but over time I realized she is right, I spend allot of my time thinking about what the person didn’t say. Do y’all think people have lost accountability for their own words and actions?

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WTF Are You Fuckers Smoking?

For one short moment last night I was close to just shutting this fucking blog down, throwing in the towel, and let the sheeple fucktards move in to take over. It was a momentary lapse in my own fucking common sense to say the very least. If y’all really must know why I created, maintain, and update this blog, its real simple, because Fuck You, that’s why. I hate the fucking question, “what is the focus or purpose of The Sting Of The Scorpion?” Why? Because its impossible to post one motherfucking thing on any topic and not have 100 crawling up my ass bitching and complaining. Go cry to your fucking momma because I don’t give a flying fuck. I do this blog for “entertainment” mostly, it has never been here to please one group of people or another, ever. Even though I attempt to entertain people here with my sophomoric sarcasm there is also a great deal posted about things going on in my own fucking life, some good & some bad, some humorous & some on the more serious side, some that is relevant to many & some that only will matter to me, but all of it is done because I make time to pull my phone out and make time to keep my blog active with new posts. But nooooooo, I get bashed because I’m a sick twisted fucker who belongs in a straight jacket locked up in a tiny padded room. Well, fuck you, I’m not, I’m here posting whatever in the fuck I choose because that is what I fucking want to do when and how I fucking want to do it. You have choices and one if them is to not to click the link which leads you here. Once you are here you have the choice to leave as well if The Sting Of The Scorpion isn’t your fucking cup of tea. Either way, if you stay or if you leave, The Sting Of The Scorpion will still be here.

So, let’s explore what has your panties all wadded up in your cunt this time. If that just offended you then its because you know I am talking directly to you so you can stop guessing in your head who I am pointing out. Its fucking you! First I would like to address the fucknuggets who, so colorfully, addressed a post I did yesterday about my real life backyard hog invaders. Just because I own guns (yes multiple guns) doesn’t mean I wish to hunt and kill everything that walks this planet. Just because I hunt doesn’t mean I wish to hunt and kill everything on this planet. It does mean, however, that I have options, not that I’m an indiscriminate killer of all the cutesy wutsey creatures which roam in the wild. But then again, some of us call some of those humble creatures fucking dinner, sorry to be the one to inform you, but some if us hunt for our food. However, in that particular post I never mentioned hunting the sow hog pictured, I just want to help move it on along, but I will win one way or another because I have options. Don’t hunt? I really don’t care. Don’t eat meat? I really don’t care. Don’t like guns? I really don’t care. I will protect my family and property against man and beast because that is the kind of person I am. Do I speak for everyfuckingbody? Nope, just for myself. Hogs are dirty destructive beasts who cost property owners allot of freaking money every year. I am happy for those of y’all who live places where there aren’t any invasive vermon threatening who you love and what you own.

Yes, in real life, fuck and variables of the word fuck are my favorite words. Yes, my blog tends to reflect directly on how I speak. Yes, I am a grumpy fucking bastard who is tired of people’s bullshit in real life too, this isn’t some fucked up twisted freak show you are watching here, some of it is my life as well. Yes, I know I have my autocorrecting spell checker off since I am the one who knows what I want to say and how I want to say it. Moving on now I would like to address something, that I was told is holy and sacred, my use of church signs over the last couple of days. Boothefuckhoo if you thought they were in “bad taste” because I thought it was a hilarious idea. Did they get your attention? Mission accomplished. Did you find them personally unique to The Sting Of The Scorpion? Mission accomplished. Did the fact that a person who despises organized religion used a church sign to promote his blog throw you a curve ball? Mission accomplished. Were you fucking offended? Well, that’s all on you, maybe you are too sensitive to be here in the first place. By the way, for those of y’all wondering, sometimes I do think that there needs to be a “complete guide” to The Sting Of The Scorpion because many if y’all just do not have the mental capacity to have an open mind about the life we live or the planet we live on or the societies we are a part of because some people choose to have their eyes and ears shut but have their big fucking mouths open. This blog does not focus on organized religion or politics because there is absolutely no desire to vommit up the vile that everyone seems to already be so in tune with. Yes, I stab at the obviously ignorant shit one sees in the news on occasion, but it isn’t a staple here. No, we probably do not share the opinions I might have about our fellow human beings and that’s okay with me because I think you need to have your own opinions and conclusions on people and life. We are individuals for fucks sake.

Now let’s talk about you slimy fucking spammer bitches. Do you know that I delete 200+ bogus spam bullshit comments every fucking morning? No? You thought you were the only one spamming The Sting Of The Scorpion? Wrong. You idiots don’t get it. This is not a porn site. This is not an international dating site. This is not an anti-gun site. This is not an anti-gay site. This is not a skinhead site. We are not interested in the “legal drugs” you have to offer. We do not have any friends or family members whose benefits we wish to seek laundered out of a third world country and all you need is our banking information to make us millionaires. No, I don’t need hints in vaginal freshness. No, I don’t need the next best thing to Viagra or the no name generic drug which I can buy from Mexico or Canada. No, I do not need help finding Jesus Christ. No, I am not going to vote for you. No, I am not seeking help cleaning up the looks of my website. These are just examples of the regular bullshit that the spammers consider relevant to any given post done here. My favorite tho is the multiple ads I get on the prevention and care for the wounds caused by, wait for it………………..scorpion stings! We don’t advertise here, we don’t do this for fame or money, we are here providing all of this at no cost to the reader, its free.

In the end, read/view/skim The Sting Of The Scorpion for whatever your reasons might be at that given moment. Yes, I know this blog is an acquired taste and not everyone will always be happy about it. Oh well, I don’t really fucking care. Y’all come back for some reason and that is enough for me. Oh, as far as the recommendation that I perform a complete overhaul to reformat this blog, y’all can go to hell because The Sting Of The Scorpion will remain as it is and always has been.

An Open Letter To Whomever

It has come to my attention within the last 24 hours that I made remarks which certain people on our planet have taken to be historically in bad taste. These people mistake my sarcasm as me just being a cold hearted bastard. I make light of many things in current times as well as in history but for some reason, that I am obviously to damn ignorant to comprehend, people find cause in pointing out WHY what was said was so wrong and offensive. I have the answer to why this happens and that answer is simple. I am who I am and you ate not me, you are not capable of knowing what I know, seeing what I see, or even grasping why I speak the way I do. I don’t offend people on purpose, people make the choice to get offended by what I say. Here’s the damn deal, I don’t give a shit. It goes well beyond this blog, it goes deeper than social media, and the big picture is something these people choose not to see. Its great that they can pin point focus on a tiny part but 99.99% of the time it is taken way out of context which really draws one attention away from how words were being used. Right now there are people wondering what in the unholy Fuck I am talking about, which is cool because we don’t all travel in the same social circles. If you know what I am referencing that is great and if you are not with the program that is great as well. All I ask is that one must remember that there are things and people and placed that I understand all to well and the way I choose to interact is my way, its not something I need permission to do. It doesn’t make a difference to me if people come here or interact with me. Its nice that y’all do but I don’t run off and cry when people leave me. Shit happens because that’s just fucking life. I will be the first to admit we ate different, and you should cherish that fact not be offended by that fact. But who am I to say, y’all are strong willed people and should already now this. I mentioned, when I started here on WP that I was being reborn, that I was back with a purpose this time, and will not cater to the pussies in the world who think that complaining enough will finally get me shut down. Should it offend me that you are offended? Nope, fuck you. My blog and what I say is not for everyone, hell its not actually for anyone, except those who have the stomach to go ahead and be amused with life and the people here on planet dirt. We, the people of planet Earth, are all fucked up in one way or another. I have yet to meet the perfect human and I am comfortable knowing that I never will. Its probably a stretch to ask people to have their own lives perfect before deciding mine is not, I will make it simple for you, I don’t live the perfect life in your eyes, but I do live a perfectly happy life in my own eyes. Luckily I gave up, many many years ago, trying to convince people that they are very different from each other. As a bonus, this decision to give up has given me a better opportunity to watch people make complete asses out of themselves while they try to get me and others to give a shit about there opinions.

In conclusion, I know I have opened the literal flood gates of hate and poison that certain people have coursing through their veins by merely having an oppositional opinion that may differ from their own. Yes, I am an asshole. Tell me something I don’t already know. But, y’all should know that generally I don’t pull out my asshole card unless provoked to do so. Some will argue, as the do regularly, that the mete existence of this blog and its contents will always provoke an I’ll response from just the right person at that right moment in time. At the end of the day we can all agree on one simple fact, each of us must take care of ourselves and our own sanity. We can’t all be sheeple and Fucktards now can we.

Pushing Beyond Black History Month

My general focus here today, or any day for that matter, is to ask questions, provide information, and try to understand why selective history is used to create passions with no end in sight. Before we get our collective shorts in a knot let me just state that I speak from my personal family history when I say that my ancestors were not slave owners (of any race). With that being said I am very confident that myself nor my family owes reparations to anyone for the compensation for their ancestors’ unpaid labor and bondage. I have heard that we need Black History Month in the United States to further educate on history that isn’t taught in the schools or has been abolished altogether. Is it true? Is it true that there are people who do not know their own family history? I hear how the United States Government all the way down to local schools have the burden of responsibility to educate people. Let me tell y’all this quaint little fact, they don’t owe anyone anything. Want to know who needs to take responsibility to know their history? Everybody. Everybody who wants to know something needs to dig a little deeper than the schools and the government, they need to look to family for accurate history, our families are the ones who made the history. Besides, the complaint is that the history of the United States is too “white” and does not cover everyone in the same detail.

A part of history one rarely hears or sees is that slavery in the New World could have never taken place with same numbers and impact if it were not for the African elite selling African slaves to European traders. That’s right, Africans were selling Africans for profit. Why don’t we hear this information during Black History Month? I will tell you why, in my simple opinion, because it is hard to sell a struggle when your own ancestors are the root of slavery. Its hard to make it seem as tho the white man chased down and captured each slave that was brought to the American colonies when the truth is more damning. Now, I have had discussions like this in the past with friends, co-workers, and family before and it always ends up being the same outcome, people hating me because a white man pointed out their ugly history to them. What sucks is the fact that when the words came out of my mouth they reacted as if it was the first time they had heard it.

Want to be pissed of because your ancestors were slaves? Want to be pissed off because you are black and have no ancestors that were ever slaves? Want to be pissed off at me for being white? Good, get pissed off. Get good and pissed because the focus on hating an entire race because a portion of it owned slaves seems like the real mainstream thing to do, it’s very trendy amongst celebrities and well known people as well as the man or woman who is sitting right next to you right now. I don’t owe you anything, not even an apology or a condolence. I used to wonder why a black person hated a white person. I know why now. Do you know? We are raised to hate. We are raised to hate oppression. We are raised to hate the oppressors. We are raised that we need an excuse to hate somebody because it isn’t our fault we are the way we are. We are raised not to be responsible for our words and actions. We are raised and taught anger, fear, and retaliation. Why? Is it because the generation before us did the same thing, and so on and so on?

Who here reading this post even knows the origins of Black History Month? Who here reading this post even knows why Black History Month is celebrated in the month of February? That’s right, leave here, go Google it, and then come back because I’m not done yet. Go ahead, I’ll wait. I fully understand why Black History Month occurs. I respect the search for knowledge. What I can’t appreciate is it being used as a platform to promote hate of other races or that people make money on it as profit. Those of y’all who think I’m wrong don’t get out much do y’all? Celebrating one’s heritage and history should also include the darker side of the history. Perhaps even include a question I would like to ask someone who is black, someone who holds strong to the self appointed title of African American, someone who sees the white man as the devil, and for that person who just hates me for my color. If African slaves were not sold by your African ancestors how likely do you think it is that you would have migrated to North America on your own? If there wasn’t a slave trade which your African ancestors profited from heavily, would you still be here today? When you have an answer to both of those questions then come at me with why you still hate the white man.

Okay, so where do we go from here? Who knows. I’m sure I’ve pissed more than one person off. I think it would be nice if I didn’t know more about black history than most blacks know about black history. That would be a nice start. Will I ever see it? That question will remain unanswered and unpredicted. I would like to think that people who want knowledge would rely on multiple sources before coming to a single conclusion. In the end, it doesn’t matter what a person’s race is, at the end of the day we are living in the year 2014 in a country where slavery has been abolished and not living in Africa where slave ownership is currently still a way of life. Sometimes the truth sucks, sometimes the truth sets you free, sometimes the truth makes you a prisoner, and sometimes the words from the unexpected shake up the way you think. And yes, before everyone starts yelling at me, I know Black History Month goes well beyond slavery in history, it is time “set aside” to celebrate the little known to the famous black people that history has chose to overlook or understate.

Yes, I am white. No, I am not your enemy.

Time To Take A Look In The Mirror

It truly is time for the people of the world to look in the mirror and see that there is only one “race” that will ever matter. Every single human being here on planet dirt share one bond that, no matter what, can never be changed, we all belong to the human race. With that statement I could actually close this post and consider it complete. But, I’m not done yet because there are so many boneheads out there that just don’t get it. Why? Is it too simple in the complexity of our society? Have human beings not evolved enough to recognize that it isn’t our color that makes us different, it’s our DNA. Even with that being said, DNA isn’t even enough to separate one person from every other person on the planet. I have read plenty over the years about how “race” divides our societies and just recently I read a very interesting article at “Classic Ruby: Unadulterated” which sparked up a conversation between myself and the author. She has a way of delivering a message that made me sit back and take a moment to give it all some thought.

Before we actually get into my personal thoughts on “race” I want to point out, especially for new readers, that I am color blind in real life. I don’t use the term metaphorically to make a point but to illustrate how there might be a perspective that y’all haven’t thought about before when thinking about the races on our planet. Sure, I see some color, but I don’t see color the same way as others. In reality, it’s not color blindness but more like seeing with a color deficiency. Overall, it is hard for me to explain, but that’s not the point of this post either. I will make it simple, because it is simple, we need to look at the person next to us as a fellow human. One’s color has little to do with who that person really is. We should spend less time worrying about what race someone is and spend more time just being human to one another.

But its complicated isn’t it. We can’t look at another human being in black and white. Why not? In my opinion, based on my experiences in life, I find it is because we get programmed through our learning early in life to judge another person because of their color. Why? because they are different than what we see in the mirror. How does that end? I have had people tell me I have it easy in life because I’m white and they are handicapped because they are not white. That being bullshit is putting it mildly. We all take a different course in life, we all make different choices, and we all make different decisions. No, we definitely are not all the same but we all definitely bleed the same color, red. Perhaps it is everything we have in common with each other that drives us to notice the obviously distinctive differences. We need the other person to be different because we don’t want them to be like us. All races are no different in the fact that they like to point out and clarify the differences between the races. But then we sub-divide within the race we belong to as well, further dividing us from our neighbor.

So, I’m white. Does that make me wrong? Does it make me less aware of what the difference amongst the races are? I have been told before, in fact today being the latest time that I’m white therefore I can’t possibly understand anything beyond being white. Why not? Here’s my opinion why not. Look around you, listen to some different music, drive into a different neighborhood, talk with some new people, and y’all will see that different races thrive on being different. They say it makes us a stronger race to recognize ourselves. No, it makes you stupid because you choose to continue with false propaganda witch harms the different races. Have a culture, have a way of life, but don’t use those as excuses to not allow everyone else to do the exact things you want to have freedoms to do. So we are different, so the fuck what.

In closing, I would like to mention that I don’t judge you by your race or your skin color. I will judge you by the words you speak and the actions you take. Too damn bad that every single person on this planet can’t do the same. Racism, at least in the United States, is kept alive by the very people who claim it is holding them back. Again, why? I have found that some people need to be mad at something, anything, right or wrong. People prey on “race” because there is money to be made and 9 times out of 10 it is the same race preying on their own, admit it to yourselves, every race does it. Why? I think this might be a good place to sew up this corpse I have been kicking so I can bury it once again. Race, racism, and the people who proliferate it’s existence really piss me off. I look forward to hearing your thoughts. Feel free to comment openly. Maybe this time I will get to read something new.

Not Even Traditions Are Safe From Hate

Shortly, and I do mean shorty, like within 40 minutes shortly, after publishing Our Family Thanksgiving Tradition the meat eating hunter haters started their barrage of literal crap. I was a prepared because I know their are many people who A) don’t hunt, B) don’t eat meat, and C) think they are better than people who do eat meat and/or hunt or both. I have tried to understand the freakish nature of not hunting, I have explored that subject allot here and in real life as well. I have tried to understand why people who live a meat free life believe that everyone else is doing it wrong. I have tried to consider that when I write about hunting or meat in general that it will not appeal to everyone. I have come to a conclusion bitches, I don’t care what you do in your life, as pathetic as I might think your life is, it is still your life to live, not mine. I have been told by a few friends that by having a blog I open myself up to negative feedback, negative comments, and exposure to negative people. Well, they were right, eventhough I didn’t want to accept that some people are assholes just for the sole purpose of being an asshole. Now, I know my own personal intentions are not to offend people, but I do know that people will go out of their way to be offended because my lifestyle is not theirs. This fact used to concern me and I felt I needed to approach it all with soft gloves all around so everyone would be on an equal playing field. Well, fuck that, fuck it until it bleeds out because the gloves have come off, no more love taps, no more pulling back on my jabs, from this point forward I’m going straight for the juggler. If you don’t like what I say, what I do, how I write, or anything else, be prepared to be splattered all over my blog. Used to be, a big FUCK YOU would suffice. But you bitches are greedy and selfish, you want more, you need more, your over-indulgence has become overly-obvious, and now I plan on turning up the heat hoping you get burnt to a crisp.

One of the latest e-mailers (spammer tracks back to a virus infected website) stated that I needed to blog responsibly. The fucktard went on to explain the I have not been writing responsibly since I invite controversy with every word that is written here. I suppose the fucktard is correct, there are people who, in general, look to be offended. I often remind such fucktards that just because you are offended doesn’t make you right. It doesn’t mean you are wrong either, it just means that you let something I wrote offend you because you look for things to be offend by so you can justify your views. Well, here is my view. Since you made the choice to click the link, no matter where you saw it, and visit here. You might have seen it on WordPress, Blogcatalog, Pinterest, Facebook, or Google+. Those are the 5 places I place a link to updates on my blog. So, since I have to “belong” to each one of those websites and have an account I know I have “members”, “followers”, and “fans”. If you are getting my links then you too are a part of one or more of those five communities. If today, right now, all of my numbers dropped to dead zero I would not close my doors and blow away like dust in the wind. I would continue on, I would continue to do everything the exact same way. Why? Because I have no plans to cater to whiney sniveling crybaby bitches who have nothing better to do with their lives except be on the internet bitching about “content” on somebody’s blog. But, without you, without the grand ol’ fucktard, I would have just a little less to write about because I enjoy exploring the content of e-mails from ill-informed fucktards.

As I stated above, I had one meat-hater in particular try to explain to me that I was a terrible father for teaching my children barbaric traditions and skills. The fucktard goes on to explain that if we choose to eat meat why can’t we buy it at the store like normal people. So much to cover in those two small sentences. Readers here and people in my personal life know that we are hunters in my family. It has been these skills passed down generation after generation that keeps it alive in our family. My children have the choice, if they don’t want to hunt they do not have to. If they wish not to eat the meat provided by hunting, then they don’t have to. But, I doubt you will ever hear those words from my 3 children or my wife. We buy very little from the grocery store and annually we only buy about 5%-10% of our meat from the store. Why? 1) We don’t need to, 2) we have the means not to, 3) hunting to provide food for the year is the preferred way. One doesn’t get more “free-range” or “fresh” then putting an arrow in it yourself. I know the fucktards think all hunters are barbarians, and in a way, you are half right. We, as a family, are not special in any way, but we don’t trophy hunt, we don’t hunt just to kill something, we eat everything we kill. In my family we are bow hunters traditionally, a skill very few people still posses these days. But lets get back to the e-mail and how us killing our food is wrong. It’s wrong because this fucktards doesn’t agree with hunting or eating meat. I have never really understood, not that I’ve tried real hard, how a person doesn’t eat meat. I can see not hunting by people because most people are too big of a pussy to end the life of an animal. In fact, most people are too fucking lazy to hunt because their little life has consumed them in such a way that all other means besides the grocery stores seems to be a little out there in their opinion. Is that breeding? Is that the way they were raised? Is it because of where they live? Is it because they are comfortable in how ass backwards they live their life. Yes, I consider those who don’t hunt but bitch about hunting ass backwards. you wouldn’t be here if your ancestors were pussies and didn’t hunt to provide meat for their family, if they didn’t grow other food in the gardens, if they weren’t able to use an ax to chop wood, or if they didn’t have the balls to pull the trigger to defend the people and things they love and cherish. If they were all fucktards like we have today none of us would be here right now,

So what if we hunt. So what if we eat meat. So what that my children are well equipped to provide for themselves and others. So what that you are too fucking stupid to wipe the bullshit from your eyes so you can see that none of my life has diddlely dick to do with your life. The only way our paths cross is that you are too fucking stupid not to click the link to my blog. I challenge all the fucktards not to click my links, to un-friend me, to un-follow me, and to un-like me, and just move the fuck on. We will miss you, don’t get me wrong, but I want to help you onto the road to recovery. the first step is to admit you have a problem. Say it out-loud right now. I (state your full name) am a fucktard. I am addicted to being a fucktard. I can’t stop being a fucktard because (fill in the blank) and I am willing to take the first baby step right now to recovery so that one day when I reproduce I do not have fucktard offspring. Repeat that 100 times, look at yourself in the mirror while you repeat it over and over. After you have admitted you are a fucktard and you do have problems, then, and only then, can we move forward to help you shed the wool of being a contained sheeple. One day, one day you will want to hear the popping sound of your head coming out of your own ass. You will smell like shit but you will be happy once you stop looking thru your bullshit-o-vision glasses. Join us now, my brothers and sisters, let us take one another’s hand to have a moment in silent prayer. Whoops, that’s taking it a bit fucking far, their will be no fucking hand holding here. Now, do you feel better? No? Well, I can explain that to your simple simon little peanut fucked brain. That pain you feel in the back of your neck is your fucktard stupidity trying to get out, just let it out. When you see that little fucktard hit the floor then stomp on that fucker, smash it, grind it into the carpet, the wipe your shoes on your lilly white curtains and move the fuck on. Farewell fucktards, we are taking it all back. So, buckle up fucktards, hold on, shut, and get ready to be rode like the little bitches you  are!

So, while all of you freaks are enjoying a nice Tofurkey Just known my family will be feasting on a smoked turkey provided my son’s dead accurate shot. I don’t knock the vegans and the vegetarians, they are doing their own thing, which is what we do because that is how we live. Be assured, y’all have your own traditions and we have ours. Yes, they might be different, and yes our opinions may differ about the differences, but in the end, we are all here sharing the bounties of this great planet we live on.

O.P.C.

Those of y’all who were regulars or even know me in real life already know that I find it quite sad that I have to be responsible for Other People’s Children while I am at work. Having 3 children of my own of various ages and a young grand daughter I would like to say I have a little experience raising children. I see, in life in general, that many parents don’t take the time to teach their children how to act in the real world or when they have a job. I know I cannot be the only person alive that has witnessed young adults in the workplace who need a babysitter to help them get through the entire day. I work with 3 such people and quite frankly wonder how they even wake up in the morning. I have seen over time that none of them seem to have an alarm clock because none of them have been to work on time at 8 a.m. since the day they were hired. Two of them are even married. Now, these 3 grown ass men range in age between 22 and 26 so I know they are old enough to know better. Stupid me, I am proven wrong on a daily basis by at least one if not all three of them. I have to wonder how they survive the complexities of daily life since they barely know how to tie their own shoes. No, I do not jest. Two of them will tell you they wear boots simply because they can never get their shoes to stayed tied more than a duration of a couple of hours at a time. I don’t think the other one even knows what laces are, he has big boy velcro strap shoes. Collectively these three boys are referred to as my “work kids” to pretty much everyone I know and will listen to me bitch about them. You see, I don’t complain about my job, I really don’t, I have that perfect job. I do, daily, complain about my work kids since I should not have to raise three grown men at work and hold their hands so they can function the 9 hours a day they are there. Sadly, I am their co-worker, not boss, not manager, not supervisor, not their superior in any way, just their co-worker. In my bosses defense, they have washed their hands of them long ago, they are just fixtures in the workplace that are tolerated because the bosses feel too sorry for them to fire their sorry asses. Even the threat of me quitting doesn’t even raise an eyebrow. I get “it was nice working with you” or “its been nice knowing you” or “hope you find work soon after you leave”. There is zero gratitude and no love lost in this workplace. I am convinced one day I will be proven wrong and these three boys will start earning their 43K a year, that day was definitely not today I assure you.

I have to get on them like my own kids everyday, ten plus times a day or more sometimes. I know that they really cannot be as stupid and lazy as I get to see of them at work, it can’t be true because nobody can really be this stupid. Since obliterating my shoulder a few weeks ago I have found myself needing their assistance on a very regular basis, you see in my position I move many heavy boxes each day and I can’t right now, hell I can barely pull my own pants up to be honest. Unlike the kids I do not have a complete day where it doesn’t matter if I accomplish something or not, I have responsibilities to people outside our department who depend on me to do my job well and in a timely manner. A task that has been hard over the last few weeks since I have to go to their hiding spots and “bribe” them out to actually work. When I say bribe it usually is chocolate from my secret stash. Just don’t tell these boneheads its sugar free or I will have a war on my hands. Don’t worry, they can’t read so I don’t have to be afraid I let the cat out of the bag just now. Their mere existence burdens me, I often wonder why I am being punished and why they are sucking up all my oxygen in the first place. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate them, I just wish somebody else would take a turn raising them because I am tired of them. Does that make me a bad human? I know I should care but I really don’t, I have done my time for whatever crime against nature I committed and I am ready for them to move on.  But they just keep coming back everyday. Reminds me of buying a scratch off lottery card and not winning, same thing happens every day, I am not the winner and they keep showing up at work for their free paycheck. Not that it matters, but I was just remembering and having a chuckle about all three of them coming back after voting for President, each for the second time in their life, because politics are the one thing they take serious I guess. Give me a freaking break! I don’t think they voted, they didn’t even have the special “I Voted” sticker, plus, I think they think I believe we could vote at the taco shack up the street. How can a dumbass vote that can’t tie his own shoes?

I have set ways at work, they are my ways and are not subject to debate, ever. Why? Because my ways keep everyone, including the children, safe and employed. There is specific ways to do a variety of things. If someones needs parts, there is a request form for those parts. If some thing needs to be shipped or received, there are procedures for that. If someone has a task to do that is work related, there is most like an instruction for that procedure. I had a rather large role in the production and implementation of our guidelines, procedures, and the instructions because I have experience in that role. I am a firm believer in continuity at work because it makes my life at work that much easier. Of course, the children have their own way of doing things, which in turn means I butt heads with the kids all the time. I am the asshole at work because I think they should have to contribute to the success of our department and company to in turn get a big fat paycheck. In more ways than one it is my rules they get to play with or they don’t get to play. Often they will go to my boss to cry that I am treating them unfair by making them follow the procedures. Boohoo………….I make him follow the same damn rules. I can’t afford to lose my job because of the arrogance of somebody else’s children. If I had my way I would line each one of their parents up in a row facing away from me while they grab their ankles while I shove my size 16 steel toe shoe (with shoestrings I have to tie) straight up their asses for doing such a shitty job raising their children. Sadly in the United States we have to have a license to drive, a license to have guns, business licenses, and so forth, but any fucktard can have kids with no prerequisite whatsoever. Reminds me of a western themed parody to madness, Have Penis…….. Will Travel. And, 2 out of the three are following in their parent’s footsteps, having 3 and 4 children respectively. Both of the boys are receiving food stamps and supplemental income because their wives won’t or can’t work for one reason or excuse of another. The third one, he’s all messed up, I think he might be too stupid to know how to make children of his own. My dad once told me that we need to promote fornication amongst the stupid so they will breed themselves out of evolutionary existence. It doesn’t work tho, I know many people who shouldn’t breed under any circumstance yet they are humping like bunnies. I don’t feel sorry for the children they would birth because you have little choice in who your parents will be, I feel sorry for each sucker who gets stuck in the position of adult babysitter like myself. Since it is the weekend now I get a small break from my bastard work children, but Monday will be here all too fast. I wonder what way these freaks will dream up to screw with me next week. No, not really, I think their dumb shit just happens by accident and at random, you know, like breathing. Until next time………….