Welcome To Miss Piggy’s House!

Stop Trying To Be The Wallflower

The Grand Tour Awaits You All

Thanks For ALL The Great Emails!

When I began checking my email this morning I realized how much email accumulates in 24 hours and have noticed the daily increase over the past several months. On a daily basis I sit down to over 250 unique emails and twice that in spam that is actually filtered, caught, and segregated. It typically boils down to 100 or so legitimate blog related messages which I read and respond to as needed. Why is this all important? It shows me that people are not only visiting my blog but they ate reading as well. In fact, a fair amount of what is posted (refers to “pictures” or graphics) comes from visitors wanting to share. I can never say thank you enough for those. Let’s just say I get many stories, pictures, ideas, and comments that are ALL greatly appreciated.

Which leads me to want to answer some common questions I get to help everyone out. Yes, I refer visitors to explore the links/tabs at the very top of the blog and the links to the right for a shotgun blast of information about me and this blog. Yes, I am a retired disabled United States Air Force veteran who has seen some bizarre shit all over the world and I like to talk about most of it here. Yes, for many years I have been a real life bartender and much of that time was spent working in a full nude strip club. Yes, the bartender stories I write were told to me in person at one given time or another. Yes, I will put your Magic Weekend story here on my blog, that’s why I have that particular feature. Yes, I am aware I use colorful graphic language, it is often a direct reflection of how I speak in real life. No, I am not a professional writer and I choose not to use a spell checker. Yes, Bearknuckle is a real Atlanta based band and yes, I do consider them to be quite badass and fantastically talented. Yes, I will put just about anything up here on my blog if I personally like it or personally find it interesting. Yes, everyone’s email is always welcome.

I think I will break it off there. I just wanted to take the time to publcally thank everyone who has been taking the time to email me for a multitude of reasons because I really do appreciate each and every one of them. Well, except the spam, I could actually live without spam emails. Again, thank y’all so much for the continued support.

Welcome To Scorpion Sting’s World!

I was asked once, long ago, long before the existence of blogs, long before the was an internet, long before cell phones and social media, but face to face, what it was like living in my world. I took pause for a minute as I reviewed the contents of the question because I had never before been asked about life in my world so I wanted the description to be true and accurate the first time. To begin with, I am really no different from anyone else, unless you are a useless tool, a fucktards, or one of the sheeple who follow the flock chasing your own tails, then we ate not alike, then we are very different. I have a very simple belief which has served me well my entire life, do the right thing whether someone is watching or not. My world is a place where pride, honor, and dignity are cornerstones that build the foundation which my world stands. My world relies on the brutal honesty which the political correctness police fear and condemn. One thing that has never changed and never corrupted is my very, very low tolerance for bullshit. Bullshit belomgs in my garden not in the mouth that speaks to me.

So what is my world? Its a strange place worth exploring, I recommend getting in, closing the door, buckling in, and enjoy the ride. I take no responsibility if you get hurt while in my world because you knew the risks when you were given a ticket. My world huh? My world, my life, and my rules. Love it or leave it. Remember to eat it every day and definitely remember that everything else just bites. Now, are there any other intelligent questions?

Reviewing The Lack Of Common Sense

Before we begin with today’s collection of complaints, suggestion, and requests for me to fall off the face of the planet, I would like to remind readers that if you are “sensitive” to the world around you then The Sting Of The Scorpion is not the blog for you to be reading. One should review the “Disclaimer & General Information” for The Sting Of The Scorpion and when y’all do the first paragraph reads as follows. “The Sting Of The Scorpion and my other pages are personally operated and maintained by me, Scorpion Sting, based on my opinions, beliefs, and observations. While you are at any of The Sting Of The Scorpion blogs I am not in any way responsible for your feelings or if you get offended in any way, since it is your choice to be here. I will discuss a wide variety and scope of many things, both popular and unpopular. Content using adult language, situations, and subjects, implied or outright, can and will be seen here“. Yet, many people believe I need to cater to them specifically. Some examples will be discussed in the paragraphs below.

So, let us begin, let us explore what I find as a complete lack of common sense and a complete lack, by some readers, to be able to adapt and overcome themselves. First of all, I mention this all of the time here, I’m not here to please you. If you get pleased while you are here then that is  bonus for all of us. I write, post, re-post, share, and commentate on a variety of subjects and that is just the way it is around here. Unless you pay the bills or sleep in the bed next to me at night your negative opinions of me and The Sting Of The Scorpion really carry very little weight. But, as always, complaints concern me a bit and “deserve” to be addressed. In the past, I would lay people’s e-mails, home address, phone numbers, names, blogs, websites, and so forth out so others might be able to share something with y’all. But, this isn’t the hall of fame for fucktard pussies. Y’all know who you are, I know who you are, and you should know I really enjoy fucking with y’all. More on that a little later.

Let’s begin with the language I use here. First, what is considered the bad words I use regularly. My absolute favorite word is fuck, it has so many colorful uses. In fact, I felt inclined to write a post on different ways to use the word fuck so people could study up at “How To Use The Word “Fuck” Properly“. Why? Because Fuck – The Only Word That Can Be Used As A Noun, Verb, And Adjective! In the fucking end,  the fucking thing I really fucking like about the English language is that you can fucking put the fucking words “fuck, fucked, and fucking” every fucking place you fucking want. Fuck is a word I use allot because I want to. Deal with it because it probably only gets worse as I get older. For all of y’all newbies I just want to tell y’all to buckle up and hold on, that is the one piece of free advice I offer. Yes, I know I don’t have a Rated G mouth or vocabulary. Yes I know that I’m not Christian ears friendly either. But, the offended fucktards keep coming back which really bewilders me in the end. Why return? Why subject yourselves to the “abuse” that y’all think I spew? Anyways.

Yes, I speak about adoption, my family, my journey, and the history of “ME” in a candid way here. Why? Because it is who I am. I don’t represent anyone in particular, just me and how it has been happening for me. Yes, I know not everyone has a “success story” and many will never know their roots. What do you want me to do, apologize because I was lucky? That’s never going to fucking happen because I have nothing to apologize for. Speaking of which, speaking of apologies, I think the fact that I can speak about my son being a bipolar autistic child openly would be appreciated, but no, this is supposed to be some kind of a dirty little fucking family secret. Well, it’s not, he is our son.

Yes, it’s true, I do talk about religion, God, Christianity, heaven, hell, and sheeple. Are these not all things that surround everyone every single moment of every day? Whether you have these things in your life or not they are still there, everyfuckingday. Yes, I find the fact that there are those who cling to ideas and fairytales that make no sense to me personally a point which I feel I need to write about it. I really don’t give a fuck what your beliefs are or why you have them. However, I do find it humorous when readers tell me I’m going to hell for blasphemous comments I make. Hell? Really? Again we can ask what this “hell” that is spoken of, but no matter what there will never be an answer to what hell is now will there? Who knows, maybe I’m already there if there is a there that is called hell.

Yes, it is correct, I do not have a political orientation. I do, however, know what I do NOT like. Y’all are correct, I don’t like our president, in my opinion he is the pure definition of fraud. Yes, I post different things here reflecting different political opinions. Does this make me a white supremest and a racist? apparently it does because that is the two most popular words I get called. How convenient the president is a black man and now those who disagree with his “politics” are labeled racist. I’m happy he gets your rocks off but that doesn’t mean I need to like watching it happen. I also write and post quite a bit about the government and it’s continuing quest to spent everyone’s money in a fashion which only seems to suit themselves. Yes, I know, it has been going on since the beginning of government, but I’ve only been around for what it has become now. Our government is full of fraud and frauds and I’m not okay with that. For those of y’all convinced that I only see our president as a failure because of his color then you just might need to pull y’all’s head out of the oven before it’s too damn late.

Yes, lately I have been writing about the cunt who is my ex. And? Have some compassion for her and her mistakes? Fuck her, she made her bed and got caught fucking someone else in it. I don’t ask you to walk in my shoes, I just ask that you pull your head out of your ass so you can see that some people are just cunts. Now, don’t get me wrong, I find the soap opera she calls a life very entertaining to say the least. She proves everyday that her status of cunt is well deserved. I have no compassion for her or how her life has turned out, zero.

Over the last couple of months I have welcomed many new followers. Why do they come? No matter, they have decided to follow, I won’t judge them for their lack of taste. Maybe everyone here is just looking for a little “strange” on the side. Speaking of which, I have found that when I re-tell the stories from when I bartended at a full nude strip bar that some people think that some of it is “too much information”. I can’t help it, life is graphic, life is colorful, life has nudity in it, life has sex in it, and life has people in it. I can’t sugar coat life for anybody that’s just the fucking facts. No, I’m not very politically correct, it’s not in my DNA. One more piece of fucking advice, just be who you are, just live your life, get over yourself if needed, pull your head out of your ass if needed, get outside to live life, and remember that somewhere somebody loves you. Other than that, y’all’s e-mails and comments are always welcome here. They may not ever get posted, but they are always welcome nonetheless.

Welcome To Wonderland

Welcome to Texas!

Welcome Home, Welcome Back To Texas

Ending back in southeast Texas was no mistake. It was part of the plan after getting a divorce and in the end divorcing the Air Force. If you need to get brought up to speed I suggest you read about the beginning of the journey at The Land Of The Rising Sun and the middle which was Welcome To The Land Of Enchantment and when you are done you will be ready to start here. I’m not going to wait for you tho, I must press on since I must get on with what will probably not be the last chapter, but might be close for now.I grew up in the great state of Texas and will always call it home no matter where I might travel in the world. Some of y’all might understand being from Texas but most of y’all won’t. Fortunately when I got out of the Air Force I had some things going for me. I found out real fast that I would being to work for my dad who was a residential concrete contractor. Not what I wanted to do, but I am dam glad a position was open for me. I learned that the degrees I earned while in the Air Force from a variety of colleges didn’t amount to shit. I earned three over the years which were a BS in Explosive Technologies and two separate AAS in Explosive Principles and Explosive Applications. Plus I completed many hours to retain my Bartender’s License in Nevada, New Mexico, and in Texas which came in more handy than all the others combined. However, a BS and two AAS degrees do look good on a resume. I’m not complaining since I didn’t pay one red cent for the collage degrees since they were completed through a variety of programs offered thru different Air Force channels. On the down side and on the upside as well I was discharged from the United States Air Force as a Disabled Veteran as I sustained a major injury while living in Japan that saw fir to follow me thru my entire career. Cycling back into civilian life was hard for me since I ate, drank, and shit the Air Force for so damn long. It is very hard to turn that off, even as I sit here today. It is funny for me to sit here and remember, sometimes not in the proper order, a course of events and most of them are because of my drinking. Which is this one will eventually start off because of the series of events which surrounded my return to Texas.

In fact, the very first weekend I was back I went out to a Gig (redneck performance for you yankees) where my baby sister’s husband (now her ex) was performing. He has an interesting set up, he has a DJ who plays all the popular country (old and new) and classic rock which he sings to. In a very weird way it is like a karaoke roadshow for one. But, he can sing his ass off and puts on a pretty good show. But, in defense of the rednecks and hillbillies, when you are in a hole in the wall bar in the middle of absolute BFE getting drunk, music is music since it just breaks up all the noise from everyone trying to yell over the next person. He did have his fans tho, fans my baby sister really didn’t like too much because they used to get up and dance with him, and usually it was more like porn than it was dancing. However, it was a party wherever he was performing and there was always alcohol and weed and whatever and this and that. If you were wanting to be trashed in no time flat then this was the party to be at. But, how would this be fun for me because I was going alone? I used to be “available” to catch all the cast offs and the heart broken. All the “work” was done for me without him ever knowing, they were drunk, horny, and basically naked so very little effort was needed on my part to take advantage of my surroundings. Needless to say, I enjoyed these partying drunkfests every single Friday and Saturday nights. I would venture to guess that I drunkenly slept with more woman I didn’t know or care to remember in six months than I had in my entire life or would ever see in an intimate way ever again in my life. Got a big truck, check. Got fancy boots, check. Got skin tight meat locker Wranglers, check. Got my fancy cowboy hat, check. Willingness to get shitfaced drunk and have sex with anyone with an itch, check. It was party time all the time and I was having fun. The fun can never last forever tho. Two things happened that changed everything. First, my sister got fed up with him being a manwhore, his drinking, and his overall attitude. Second, she decided that this was not the lifestyle she wanted to live any longer and kicked him out. Now, I have to be the loyal brother to my sister and the party was over, for everyone. No complaints from me, I had a good run, I enjoyed woman throwing themselves at me sexually and expect absolutely nothing in return from me, something I never saw in 14 years of marriage to my ex. Life moved on tho and I was able to concentrates a little better working for my dad, which is what I needed to be doing in the first place since I was being manicured to take over from him when he decides to retire one day. So, I became immersed in my work and had to make an effort to go drink and party. Most of the time I was too tired to even try.

It just so happens that being in a bar is how I met my wife. While doing some work on the other side of town I had some evening time to kill so I would go get a drink at this redneck bar. The first vision of my wife was her bent over a bar to put her purse behind it displaying how tight her jeans really were. One night I felt froggy and slapped her ass which cracked like the sound of lightning striking a tree. I actually thought I broke my hand. All she did was turned her head and smiled at me. WTF? Later she sat down with me at my table and informed me that I owed her a drink or seven now. One could say we started dating after that. In the end y’all know what happens, we get married. We did continue to go out but it was a little more on the tame side. My dad did retire. The weather, however, made it where I had to get a real job. One can’t pour concrete in the rain. For some reason, one day, I just decided to quit drinking. I had many reasons, but I just was done with it. Then, oddly enough, I found myself bartending for many years, which is a different story all in itself. As the years passed I found my self drinking again, but in severe moderation. It has worked out for the best because at least now I can wake up in the morning and remember the night before. I used to hate “losing time”, sometimes 10-12 hours at a time, all the time. I am surprised I remember half of anything to tell you the truth. Actually, I am sure that 90% of everything I do remember is only about 10% of what actually happened. Which, I realize nowadays, is really sad since I have been to some real cool places around the world and what I remember the most is the party. At my age I would like to be able to reflect on better memories, especially when my kids want to know what I used to do and see while traveling the world. I am happy nowadays to sit on the deck with my wife sipping margaritas and just enjoying everything and everyone around me. I know one thing for sure and that is that Texas is my home, no matter what everything I want is always here, and that’s a great thing to know.

 

Part 1: Land Of The Rising Sun

Part 2: Welcome To The Land Of Enchantment

Welcome to America