This Is An Attempt To Collect A Debt

5 Mar

I got something in the mail, some debt collector out of Oklahoma offering me some settlement on a credit card I never had.  Someone stole my identity.  Good for them.  I hope they bought TV’s and Xboxes and got huge cash advances for massage parlors where they could prematurely ejaculate into some Korean sex slave.  I only wish I didn’t have the ethical hangups that keep me from doing that kind of shit.

But now I have to call… not the debt collector, because if you’ve ever dealt with any kind of debt collector, you know they will give you no information.  They’re like one of those grass seeds that gets up a dog’s nose; little thorns and barbs that make it only slide further up when you grab at it.  Get some kind of admission from you of who you are and take this as an agreement that it’s your debt and bug you and bug you and bug you.  They are masterful about this.  Well, it is under your name sir, and you are liable.  No, I have to call Citibank; I have to pay for a credit report, I have to identify in whatever jargon is used thereupon what item matches up with a Citibank credit card.  The amount won’t be the same.  The debt collector just makes up some huge amount and knocks off most of it to make it look like a deal.  Then one in one thousand checks roll in.  Free money.  From a person so stupid and unsophisticated they think any official looking letter is gospel.  Free money from the only sort of person who really needs it. Continue reading →

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I Beat The End Boss

4 Mar

GhostsNGoblins3

I’ve crossed the cock rubicon and I can’t jerk off to porn anymore.  For the first few weeks of my unemployment it was six to eight times per day.  When I discovered that Bing enabled perfect porn searches I was in a kind of heaven.  There was no hour unjerked.  My penis was beat up and scabby but it responded nonetheless.  Looking back now this was the penis Beatles.  Studio 54 in the 70’s.  Now nothing excites me. Continue reading →

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You Should Message Me If Part 2

2 Mar

okc robot

I’m bored with OKCupid.  Thinking about nuking my profile by putting this as the new “You Should Message Me If” section:

Look, just fuck me, for Christ’s sake.  Why do I have to write this god damn essay like I’m applying for college.  Why don’t we just admit that’s what this web site is for.  You’re not gonna meet your husband on here.  You’re gonna meet your husband at work where you’re forced to be around him without an agenda.  You two will slowly grow on one another.  That’s how relationships happen.  Me, you’re gonna let me buy you a couple cheap wines and wake up groggy in the morning with my boner grinding your butt crack.  We will make a half hearted plan to meet up at some art show; whichever one of us is better looking will flake, and we will never speak again.  Why do this fucking kabuki dance.  When you meet your true love in ordinary life I will congratulate you.
Continue reading →

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Protected: Mother Nature, You Cunt

1 Mar

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Protected: My Stupid Fucking Ball Sack and its God Damn Demands

1 Mar

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She Doesn’t Like It

28 Feb

when I hassle her about other girls.  Did you get that girl’s number.  We could have a three way with her.  Pressuring her into three ways when I just want a new piece of pussy.  I ask her because she has it so much easier.  Girls can go up to girls and just say “you’re hot.”  You don’t have to pretend you don’t want it.  It’s such a fucking process with men and women.  You, you can go up and say fuck me.

You ask me to move your fucking couch, I ask you talk to girls.   Why don’t you do it yourself, she says.  She has contempt for my neediness.  Asking her to ask for pussy implies that I can’t get pussy on my own.  Well look: I get pussy, but I still need more pussy.  There isn’t so much pussy in the world that I won’t run out.

A Thousand Ships

26 Feb

What killed me was the way she walked.  She would pick up her feet like a cat in a litter box not wanting to step in its piss.  Like a fawn trotting.  It made her ass shake in that sheer little Wilma Flintstone dress and she knew it.  She was “bubbly.”  Friendly.  She dropped a piece of ice and the host said it’s great to watch you bend over and she giggled like it was 1962 and no one ever got sued.  She laughed in a way that let you pretend.  You know she’s fucking some yoga instructor or some Russian guy for money but you can’t remember these things like you can’t remember the alphabet backwards when a cop’s shining a klieg light in your eyes. Continue reading →

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Protected: The Internet Is Evil

26 Feb

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Product Review: Kidde® Combo Smoke/ Carbon Monoxide Alarm, Model KN-COSM-IB

22 Feb

combo-smoke-carbon-monoxide-alarm_install

I woke up and a demonic metal brontosaurus was leaning over me, shrieking, and then murmuring in a woman’s voice.  Behind her was Satan, in a long black cloak with glowing red eyes.  I screamed and screamed.  “Low battery” said the demon.  What the fuck?  “Low battery.”  What– Satan was my coat, his eyes were the reflection of my alarm clock in the window.  The dinosaur was my lamp.  I must have taken my phone off vibrate, it was telling me to charge it.  Weird, it had never done that before.  I could hear the neighbors thumping upstairs, thinking I’d been gutted.  Their dog was freaking out.  I found the phone, turned it off.  Started drifting off again.  Dreamt I was on a boat in the ocean. Mona was there, her sun-warm skin, her belly.  The wind.  Sardines glimmering in the sunlight under the waves… Continue reading →

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Unemployment Diary: The Job Market

21 Feb

jobbureau

You get scared when you leave a white collar job that you’re gonna end up picking up trash.  Well, not to worry. You can’t get that job.  It’s a union gig.  A city gig. You get scared that you’re gonna get trapped in some soul-crushing civil service shit for years like Bukowski. But you can’t get a job at the post office.  They’re cutting back.  You have to know somebody.  You can’t get a job flipping burgers.  You’re overqualified (in my case, this is true). You can’t do shit labor on a construction site.  Half of Mexico is up here trying to do that.

So what can you do.  You can get a job in a STEM field, they tell you.  If only you had gotten your degree in a STEM field, you would be in great demand.  Science, technology, engineering, mathematics.  A computer programmer, in other words.  Do you know how fucking hard that shit is?  I could barely pass my intro to C++ class, and I’m smart.  Your ability to do that shit is purely genetic, and it’s the same gene that makes you smell like cheese and talk like that pedophile’s RealDoll from Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close.  Hearing that little pussy talk makes me think we need more bullying in schools.  There is no talented computer programmer on the face of this earth who can buy a six pack at the liquor store and make small talk with the clerk normally.  There certainly isn’t one who can speak to a woman.   Continue reading →

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