So Dale took me hostage at gunpoint in the breakroom. The boss walked in and saw me in a chokehold with a Smith & Wesson to my head and called the police. The cops subsequently called in a hostage negotiator.
I was in no mood to put up with this shit.
“Just shoot me already, Dale. Let’s get this over with,” I said.
The cops had the building surrounded with their weapons drawn and ready to shoot. The negotiator came out over his loud speaker:
“Dale, my name is Philip, we’re all here to help you. Tell us, what can we do for you?”
“Listen you mother fuckers!,” Dale said. “I just want to talk to my wife and kids again, a little respect, and a plane ticket to Columbia!”
“Okay okay. We can get you the plane ticket, but we need you to drop your weapon,” the negotiator replied.
“No! If I don’t get what I want I will blow this dipshit’s brains out! Tell him, James!” Dale declared.
“He will!” I said. “But don’t worry about it. I’m ready to die.”
Then a sniper round went through Dale’s leg, severing a major artery, and spraying blood everywhere. Dale screamed in agonizing pain, begging for death.
I was okay
But facing my own mortality made me ask some difficult questions: should I pay my mother’s nursing home expenses or should I pay my gambling debts?
I visited Dale in the hospital and he appeared to be in better spirits.
“Great news Jim,” he said. “It appears my violent tendencies lately have been due to a bad interaction with my medications! So now I’m on Xanax!”
“Oh that’s good to hear! What about your wife and kids?” I asked.
“Oh don’t worry about that. I’m sure my wife will lift that restraining order eventually.”
“What about your assault charges?,” I asked.
“Welp, I took a plea deal so now it’s 14,000 hours of community service and I have to register as a sex offender. But no jail time 😎”
So I decided to not press charges against Dale for threatening my life and putting others in danger.
So I was watching porn on my work computer when I heard the sounds of death blasting from my co-worker’s phone.
I said, “Dale, what are you watching?”
He said, “It’s a documentary about the Battle of Tannenberg during World War I. It was a nightmarish time in global affairs. Men were senselessly butchered for the sake of gaining a few yards on the battlefield. How callous were such leaders? To permit the deaths of so, so many people? Is human life that meaningless to those in power? How could god permit such suffering? Have we been forsaken?”
“We’ll keep it down over there,” I replied.
So I went back to minding my own business when I heard Dale loading his Colt Cobra.
I said, “Dale, so help me god, if you don’t quiet down I will grab that gun and use it myself.”
“Sorry,” he replied “I’m just a little suicidal from my multiple bankruptcy filings and sexual assault charges.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I said
Finally when there was a little peace and quiet, Dale comes around the corner pointing his gun at me and crying profusely.
“I’m sorry Jim”, he says. “Everyone has abandoned me. My wife left. And my kids won’t talk to me.”
“So what do you want from me, Dale?” I replied. “My wallet? The keys to my car?”
“I want someone to listen to me for once in my life! I had a very lonely childhood. My parents never listened to me, I had no friends. I suffered from dyslexia and all my teachers thought I was stupid. Just absolutely stupid! I’m not a bad person. I’m just misunderstood and have been my entire life. Just for once, I want someone to understand me! That’s all I’ve ever wanted!”
Out of frustration, Dale fired his Colt directly into my computer. We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, not knowing what would happen next. As I looked into Dale’s eyes in terror, I knew that he didn’t have the heart to shoot me. He was just a broken man and out of options.
Finally, he laid the gun down and sat down then buried his head in his hands. We both sat in silence for a few moments.
“Well,” I said. “How about I just give you my wallet.”
Thank you to the wonderful, fascinating, intelligent, beautiful, outstanding, great, fun, hilarious, engaging, charismatic, smart, intelligent, super, warm, talented, and outstanding Sophie at the Starting Today blog for nominating this page for the #BrainstormsAward.
To think that people actually enjoy reading fart and cum jokes in addition to my occasional thoughts on movies and football is truly an honor.
Rules to follow for the Brainstorms Award:
1. Thank the one who nominated you
2. Tag your post with #BrainsStormsAward and follow BrainsStorms if you are willing!
3. Display the Brainstorms Award logo
4. Display the rules on your blog post.
5. Talk a bit about your blog, why you started it, what you write on and your goal for your blog.
6. Answer the five questions you have been asked.
7. Nominate five other amazing bloggers.
8. Ask them five new questions.
A Bit About This Blog
I started writing when I woke up hungover, confused, and fearing for my life in the back of a Ford Probe in Mexico. The cartel decided to let me live if I spent the rest of my life humiliating myself. Thus, this blog was born.
I try not to confine myself to any one subject. If I have a story, joke, thought, etc. fall out of my brain, I try post it here. I don’t really think of myself as a “writer” or as an artistic type really. Nevertheless I have a ton of ideas that I would eventually like to translate into a novel, screenplay, or whatever. So I like to think of this blog as “target practice”, if you will, to keep myself in the habit of writing (before the cartel uses ME as target practice 😕)
Q/A
1. What is your biggest regret and why?
When I was a young man (back in the 1940s), I stretched myself too thin. I was trying to go to college, start a career, and be a party animal all at once (being shot at by the Germans was a problem too).
I wish I focused on one thing and not be worried about everything all the time.
2. Can you do a cartwheel?
When my arthritis isn’t acting up.
3. Are you a lone wolf? Or extremely sociable and outgoing?
I believe that it was Cormac McCarthy who stated that drinking is a workplace hazard for writers. When one commits to the blogging lifestyle, there are many such hazards and obstacles. One HAS to be a lone wolf, even in social settings…even at the cost of their own mental stability.
That’s the price of art.
But as to whether I’m naturally a lone wolf or social butterfly, I guess it depends on which drugs I’m hyped up on.
4. If you could start your blog over again what would you do differently this time?
Write it on an actual computer and not on my Nokia 8110.
5. Who are your three favorite writers of all time?
God (for writing the Bible), Charles Bukowski, and Cormac McCarthy.
My Nominees
I’ve only been on here for a couple of weeks but the WordPress community has been awesome. Unfortunately I feel like a selfish bastard for not getting acquainted with very many blogs since starting here due to my manic behavior (and being in and out of jail). But I pledge to be as supportive for this community as you all have been for me.
That being said, the following blogs have stood out for their perspective, creativity, and hard work. They’re an eclectic mix of poetry, creative writing, science, and language. They all deserve a shoutout:
(Additionally, being the kind of lowbrow blog that this is, if you choose to participate in this award, don’t feel the need to give thanks or reference my page. I understand completely 😎)
Questions For The Nominees
1. If you could go back in time to prevent any disaster in history, which one would it be?
2. Which living person has the greatest influence on you?
3. What is something that you find overrated?
4. If you had the opportunity to relive your life, correcting all your mistakes, would you take it?
5. What is the routing number to your bank account?
Or
If you had to learn to play a new musical instrument, which one would you choose?
Once again, thank you to Sophie for the nomination and all of you for reading. I look forward to getting to know all of you. So feel free to comment or just say ‘hi’.
After crashing my 97 Geo Metro into a tree, my family staged an intervention. My mom cried the whole time, saying “your dead father would be disappointed in you”, and my ex-wife said that “if you don’t stop drinking, you will never see your son again”.
I sat there listening to this shit until it was my turn to talk. I said, “I recognize that I *might* have a drinking problem. But…and I’m just making a suggestion…have you guys considered that YOU might have a sobriety problem?”
The cops later arrested me for property damage and I was court ordered to attend rehab. They sent me to a Fort Lauderdale treatment facility where they told me that I’m a “manic depressive” and “have unresolved issues stemming from childhood trauma”. I told them to fuck off, that psychiatry has been proven to be bullshit years ago.
Nevertheless the judge told me to attend AA. My sponsor, Jack, said that sobriety sucks and that there’s nothing wrong with alcohol because it’s a natural product from completely artificial processes.
Besides, lots of great things were done under the influence of alcohol. Ever heard of World War II?
So no, I will not be taking my clozapine and naltrexone. Things like “mental health” and “science” is liberal bullshit.
My buddy Randy got really drunk and started watching 9/11 videos.
“Never forget”, he told me.
“How could I?” I replied. “A bunch of people got trapped above the site of impact on the Twin Towers and either suffocated or leaped to their deaths. Can’t think of a worse way to go, ya know? Having to chose between choking on fumes or falling hundreds of feet to your gruesome death.”
But Randy forgot. And that’s kinda the point behind the “Never Forget” sloganing and the virtue signaling behind saying it, right?
The unfortunate thing about honoring and mythologizing tragedies is that it helps mask over the absolute horror behind such events. This is true for not just 9/11, but pick any war. I’m sure that soldier was really concerned about getting a posthumous bronze star after getting his legs blown off and bayoneted.
Sure, I can say that this due to some conspiracy from the government to feed us propaganda and keep their war machine fueled, which is true. But the fact is that it is much easier to focus on the mythos, revenge fantasies, and conspiracies regarding tragedy rather than on the tragedy itself.
To do so means recognizing that death is ever present. It can strike with no warning, no rhyme or reason. The universe itself is completely indifferent to our condition. In fact, it seemingly despises us. So love today, laugh when you can, because it can all be gone in an instant.
Anyways, started taking viagra today. They caused me to pass out in the Walmart bathroom, but at least they gave me a boner. Just can’t go back to Walmart anymore. 😩
There was this time when I got kidnapped by Marxist insurgents while on a drug run in Columbia. I was starved and sleep deprived for 72 hours, then afterwards came the long and torturous process of Soviet brainwashing. Those were the days!
Despite years of physical and mental therapy to overcome this horrific experience, I almost completely forgot about it until I started watching Dr. Phil and Judge Judy! After I finished convulsing, I suddenly remembered what those crazy commies taught me: the ruling class tries to control the proletariat through the means of “mental production”.
So I started thinking, “who the hell watches this shit?”
It turns out the answer is “a lot of fucking people.”
If the world is anything like me, which I presume it is, then we do a lot of self-loathing. We wake up each day, counting down the days to our inevitable deaths, when our bodies will rot and return to the earth, and we will be quickly forgotten…like we never existed at all.
So what do we do with the time in between? We waste it by interacting with meaningless products and services. One of these services is daytime network TV which feature the long running shows of Dr. Phil and Judge Judy.
Are they a real doctor and Judge? I dunno. They might’ve been one at one time, but they failed their way upwards into getting their own show.
It’s a pretty good gig if you can get it.
But because neither of them are current practitioners of medicine or law, their opinions are practically useless. However networks don’t really care if you were ever a “good” “doctor” or “lawyer”, they just want to know if you can mock and laugh at poor people and their problems. And Phil and Judy are pretty good at their jobs.
Occasionally we watch the guests on these shows and think “at least my life is not as bad as theirs.” But it is. It’s worse, actually. And we’re sadomasochists for watching. Not only are we sick for watching these people get embarrassed on national TV, but we’re disgusting because we secretly want to be chastised by two rich people for being stupid and poor.
That’s the entire purpose of these shows: so that the TV execs and the ruling elite can remind you that they are better than you and you should know your place.
The Internet Ruined Everything 