Friday, December 3, 2010
What the Fuck?
I’m sittin’ in front of a blank screen tryin’ to figure out what the fuck I started this ass fuckin’ abortion for. I have no agenda and no long term reasoning for its current incarnation. So why bother? I get paid to write so why, for the love of twat, do I do it for free for. I have no idea.
I spent hours standing in front of the latest painting project with a billion different things runnin’ through my head and a few of them weren’t even about pussy. With every earth shaking idea that sporadically exploded into my head I thought “…I could write about that” only to have that idea smother and fade as it’s replaced by another earth changing thought. I’ve got a brain wired like a rabbit. I cannot for the life of me keep focused on one thing longer then a nanosecond. I fuckin’ forget to eat when I get all manic and shit in front of a couple of thick layers of oil paint. I think it’s the lead.
I thought it would be a good idea if I made it one of my chores to write something at least once a day and get back into spending quality time with my keyboard being that I am supposed to be writing a book.
Writing a book, no that’s quite a leap of faith considering I have no knowledge of what the fuck I am supposed to write about. A couple of good chapters followed by endless pages of blather that makes no sense to even me. The only thing that I can decipher is that I need to get laid, I like me some motorcycles and society is fucked and I have the documentation to prove it…but who gives a flyin’ fuck? I don’t.
I write because, well, I’m annoying as piss in person and this gives me an opportunity to fain common sense and reasoning. Spell Check can make any douche rod seem like a scholar. So here I am wearing a pair of leotards and not listening to my dog talk anymore because she swears like a sailor, trying to puke out some dissertation that doesn’t sound either pompous or self loathing. The written word can blindside your point quicker than a left hander just in front of your 21”.
Fuck it worse has bit me in the ass.
Why the fuck does everyone need to be somebody these days? I ain’t on here tryin’ to get any point across. I’m the kind of guy that feeds off of things that might just blow up in my face so eat shit if something I say knocks me down a few notches! I’m just sittin’ here in a travel trailer in the middle of the desert…I’m nobody!
I have long past the point where I can say something that someone doesn’t like and they can hurt my feelings by writing a comment I capital letters. Fuck you! You’re a weeping sore on the ass crack of the world…capitals don’t mean shit if you starting to see a light at the end of a tunnel.
Every fuckin’ cunt in the U.S. is now puking their opinions on the internet. I ain’t. I am stating my view of the world from MY driver’s seat. I ain’t telling you what’s right or wrong. I ain’t tellin’ you how to handle your shit. I ain’t tellin’ you how to behave because of the way it will affect others. I am tellin’ the others how to react if your actions impede on their ability to live in a state of reasonable freedom. Laws that are meant to keep me safe I don’t need. Maybe that’s what I am trying to get across…but probably not.
Probably the worst thing you can do is to follow my lead. Remember last night I was running around the neighborhood with a meat clever stealing cactus…I ain’t no kind of role model! I ain’t no hero or worldly scholar sitting on a mountain waiting for my moment of Zen….I’m just an average fuck nugget just like the rest of you…ain’t that good enough? It is for me, what’s wrong with average.
Welp, this made no sense but I feel somehow better, I didn’t even know that I felt bad. This is all one big learning experience.
I think there might be a herd of canned green beans comin’ across the plains, better fire up Weed Wacker. My job here is done…”GTP”