Sunday, July 17, 2022

Scolding Turds or Something- I Tend to Ramble About Shit, and I Think One of My Neighbors is Being Abused Regularly

 From my bed and with the door opened just so, I can watch at night every time one of the aids slips into the room across the hall from mine and then back out approximately fifteen minutes later.  I'm sure he thinks the nighttime trysts go unnoticed, though I'm also sure he likely wouldn't give a shit that one of his charges knew what he was up to, but that's all for another time.  

I'm dealing with a gastro-whatever-the-fuck issue at the moment, on top of everything else (or, more directly, what put me here in the first place- again, another time), and the daytime pain, cramps and bloated sensation are replaced at night with the ability to actually feel my shit- or the stuff that'll become my shit- sliding its eventual way towards daylight. 

The cold, hard plastic seat slides to one side as I plant my cheeks firmly, and I'm reminded that I've yet to let anyone who might give a fuck know that one of the seat bolts has snapped off.  I know they have a maintenance "team" here, though I've never actually seen anything being repaired and it seems more and more each day that anything falling into disrepair here shall remain so for eternity.

I'm usually pretty regular on my own, thanks, though I'm certain we're all given daily laxatives in some of the bland heaps of garbage that arrive in front of us three times a day, and almost as soon as I'm seated my shit slides right out of me, jetting into the bowl with great shit-determination.  


Friday, March 18, 2022

Spendthrift (I'm trying to be nice here)

So anyway- 

It's amazing how fucking wasteful some people are.  I know of a human being, generally a good person to my face but in all honesty quite shallow and self-important, who puts on this air of   "save the environment", "recycle", "healthy habits", "reduce/reuse", "compost", etc., etc., etc.  Said wastrel probably tosses out more food in a week than I buy in two or three.

  Yeah, the broccoli, parsley, peppers, yams and oranges were in his trash. And don't even get me started on another bag the following week that weighed about 40 lbs. and was full of partially eaten takeout, ribs, steak, sausages, a full, unopened container of fresh chicken breasts, soups, sauces, and yeah, more produce that was only slightly not fresh.  And he's the type that only buys "the best", so you know it's not the cheap shit that the average person can only afford.  In today's world, where so many are struggling to make ends meet and can't afford even the basics, seeing this shit makes me sick to my stomach.

Okay, I'm done.

Sunday, October 31, 2021

A New Addiction

Well, that last one scared even me.  It was too long ago to remember what I was feeling at the time, so there's no explaining it.  Plus, my brain- and my creative abilities- have hit a wall that I hope is only temporary.  Anyway, this post's about addiction.  I'm struggling with an addiction of sorts, though not in the way you're probably thinking.  I'm addicted to a particular jobs website because I'm having employment issues.  Don't get me wrong- I've got a decent job, but things change, you know, life changes.  I've been poring over job listings, sucking up all the time I'd ordinarily be writing or reading, eagerly rising at ridiculous hours, hurrying to log in and enter all sorts of search terms.  One thing that's become crazy clear: employers should pay closer attention.  With staffing shortages, changes brought on by the pandemic and workers emboldened by new opportunities like working from home, starting their own businesses and the like , it's looking from the amount of time I spend searching like employers aren't catching on and upping their salary game to keep up with what's going on.  In my field of "expertise" which shall for the time be left unknown the salary ranges I'm seeing posted are insulting.  But it's not only in jobs for which I'd be qualified.  All fields seem to be sorely, disgustingly lacking.  Many employers should be embarrassed by what wallet squalor they're offering vs. the qualifications they're looking for.  I don't get it, especially in this age of new flexibility for job seekers.  In my particular field alone there are countless positions requiring degrees and boundless experience, yet offering hourly salaries that would make highschoolers scoff.   

Friday, October 1, 2021


 i am an apple

You know that saying

i'm sure you've all heard it

or maybe even said it yourself at

one time or another

i have no control over where i landed

or how close to the tree

sometimes when you cut into an apple that appears fresh clean and wholesome you find a small dark spot

a spot of rot so to speak

a spot of rot that should be cut out

the apple is good overall but theres that dark spot and sometimes it grows until the apple should be dispatched discarded and sometimes it just stays the same and no action need be taken

if the apple is never cut into the spot will never be found and the apple will appear insert air quotes here normal


Friday, September 17, 2021

Ashes Ashes- the inspiration

 A while after moving into the house my wife and I currently live in which, by the way, does have a beautiful fireplace, I realized that there was no clean-out for the ash pit.  Was the cast iron hatch removed and the hole blocked up?  Was there never one in the first place?  Who knows.  Curiosity got the best of me, so one day I removed the wood grate, lifted the lid & cleared the thick cobwebs and cautiously lowered my cell phone through the opening in the floor of the fireplace.  Sure, it was a little discomforting putting my arm down there, but I really wanted to see what it looked like.  We all find beauty in a wide range of shit, and the photos I took of the inside of our ash pit were, in my opinion, fascinating.  And no, I'm sorry to say, there were no bodies down there. 

Inside the actual ash pit.  The white spots are cobwebs

Unless, of course, they're buried beneath the mounds of powdery ash and soot at the bottom.

Wednesday, September 8, 2021

Ashes Ashes final

 I got sick of her bitching about everything, and she got sick of me just lying around, pissing and moaning.  After a while I stopped going to physical therapy and lied about it.  I knew she'd eventually find out, but I was caring less and less.  I spent more time at Casper's, the shit hole dive bar at the end of our street, just so I didn't have to go home.  I know, I know, home is where the heart is, and all that.  I just couldn't do it.  When I was home, we were at each other's throats almost constantly.  Something had to change, especially with the baby coming.  I just didn't know what.  All I wanted to do was tie one on and forget about everything.

Fat chance.  After she realized I'd drained what savings we had left she blew her top.  She told me I'd either have to get back to work or go live somewhere else.  She told me she couldn't take it any more.  Said she didn't need no slacker hanging around making things more miserable than they already were.  That was the final straw.  

  I'd needed to find a way to get rid of her but didn't honestly want to bury her out where critters would almost certainly dig her up and carry her parts off where someone might find them.  One of the things that struck our fancy most when we bought this house was the fireplace in the middle of the living room.  At the time I hadn't given it any thought, but realized after researching some things that there was no clean-out in the basement for the ash pit.  There was a trap door beneath the grate up in the fireplace, but no way to clean out the ash that got dumped down it.  "Well," I thought to myself, "no time like the present."  

After I'd cleaned up all the mess from her and sealed the chimney down in the basement I headed down to Casper's to think things over.  Any regrets?  Should've used more lime, maybe? I suppose I might be just a little sad, and mostly for the baby.  Will I miss her?  Hard to say.  Let's just allow some time for things to sink in. 

Thursday, August 19, 2021

Ashes Ashes part I

Moving to the secluded area out by the lake four states away from both our fucked up families was the best thing we could've done for ourselves.  The toxicity had gotten overwhelming, the family drama nauseating.  We knew no one would ever visit, and that's how we liked it.  We were happy in our own little world out here.  Nothing lasts forever, though.  Sure, we'd joked about it aplenty.  "You know, I could chop you up and bury you out here and no one would ever find you," I'd jokingly said more than once.  She'd just laugh and agree, and everything would be okay.  I picked up work pretty easily when we relocated, and we decided she'd stay home and take care of pretty much everything.  First, she tried to respond with, "well I could do the same to you."  Then, "I guess your boss would wonder where you were, though."  Now, I know for most people, "jokes" like this would make one question the relationship, but we were, well, a little different.  You know, saw things with a twist.  One of the things we noticed when we first met was our shared off-kilter sense of humor.  

We kept to ourselves, didn't care to meet any neighbors or make friends, and life went on.  At first everything was good, we managed to put a bit in savings, and we'd settled into a nice quiet existence.  Then I got careless while moving some equipment, you know, trying to be all macho in front of the younger co-workers and all.  Then the baby came along.  Ordinarily that'd be fine, but with the mounting out-of-pocket shit, my physical therapy and whatnot, and being out of work for so many weeks well, things just kind of piled up.