It's Springtime & Maggie Is Dead

As much as you mofo's in the UK are celebrating The Grand Dame's demise, it means jack shit to me. Guess what- in the Olympics of asshole rulers of the free world (1980-2013 division), she doesn't even win the bronze.

Here in the States alone we've had Reagan and Dubya. You're guyz have had Blair. Maggie ain't squeezin' into that triad.

So she invaded an island full of Penguins? Hell, at least she didn't go toe to toe with the Russkies or an entire religion!

Besides, think of all the great songs that you woulda missed out on!!!!!!

From I-phone to I-Pussies

We were in Mexico a couple of weeks ago and Dave lost his I-phone. Thanks to his other I-shit, he was able to locate where the phone was via GPS. Despite repeated texts, the new owner of the phone wasn’t picking up.

It appeared the phone was a couple of miles away from where we were. Of course, being gringo tourist stoner morons, we had no idea how sketchy the area was.

But we decided that it was worth taking our lives into our hands to at least see if we could get the phone back. We had been smokin’ alot of Mexican crabgrass (how we eventually upgraded is a story for another day) and whilst Dave didnt drink, I was slack jaw deep into my third six pack of the evening. And tequila. Bad ideas are always marinated with Tequila.

So, we embarked upon I-Phone rescue.

We were getting further and further away from tourist zone and deeper into the real Mexico. It was approaching midnite and the only other thing on the streets were loose dogs. Lots of loose dogs. No problem there, Dave and I are both dog people.

We were testing each other on stanza’s of Crass’s “Big A Little A” to ease the anxiety. I won.

Finally, after what seemed to be hours, but was probably only 40 minutes or so, we came to the street where we thought the phone was. There were three or four small houses on the block.

And bats. 

A couple of the little bastards were buzzing around our heads, like drones or something.

One of the houses had a truck with a logo that said “blood of the dead” in spanish. We figured those were our boys.

I was about to knock on the door when Dave said, “fuck it let them keep it, I wanna upgrade anyway."

I didnt press the point.

We walked back, with our tails between our legs.

Only we weren’t dog people anymore.

Just a couple of I-pussies.

Wanted: Martyrs

With the Occupy Wall Street movement spreading to other cities, the media is paying a modicum of attention. Unfortunately, peaceful demonstrations are not going to get anything accomplished. Now that some Unions are involved, hopefully there will be some long term organization and goals. Demonstrations at the Koch brothers and Rupert Murdoch's mansions are nice, but burning em down would be better.

However, what will really get the media involved will be violence. As abhorrent a concept it is, cracked skulls and riots will be what really starts the ball rolling.

Bloody violent revolution- telegenic and exploitative.

That's what will get heads turning.

Talk minus action equals nothing

Watch live streaming video from globalrevolution at livestream.com

My Name Is Legion

BWM (Beached White Male) is a new term for the “displaced” increasing number of Americans who are largely over 35 and either unemployed or working at jobs that are paying a fraction of what they used to make. The other day, as I was at my first med exam in over a year (now that my crappy paying job at least has good health benefits), my Dr. actually had a copy of Newsweek on the exam room table describing this phenomenon.

per the article:

"Through the first quarter of 2011, nearly 600,000 college-educated white men ages 35 to 64 were unemployed, according to previously unpublished Labor Department stats. That’s more than 5 percent jobless—double the group’s pre-recession rate. That might not sound bad compared with the plight of younger, less-educated workers and minorities, but it’s a historic change from the last recession, when about half as many lost their oxford shirts. The number of college-educated men unemployed for at least a year is five times higher today than after the dotcom bubble. In New York City, men in the 35-to-54 kill zone have lost jobs faster than any other group, including teenage girls, according to new data from the Fiscal Policy Institute."

Seems I’m not the only one freaking out about low pay and dwindling prospects. Meanwhile, as I went to pay my deductible, there was a Pharmacy Company rep at the receptionist’s desk, buying lunch for everyone (something that happens 15 times a month, apparently).

Because, that’s where the money is… in pushing drugs to Doctors… who then in turn get US hooked.

Meanwhile, it’s a game of ruses at home; trying to keep the bill collectors at bay (that’s got to be a terrible job, calling people up for unpaid bills) and projecting an air of nonchalance to the kids. I crunched the numbers, and, we’re looking at a huge plunge into the red over the next 18 months. And we have always lived very economically, no vacations, no outlandish spending. Which is a relief, since our somewhat frugal lifestyle has resulted at least in savings to burn.  According to a survey, over half the familys in the U.S. of A. have less than $2000 in the band in case of an emergency.

Of course, Princess Nomad is starting college in another year and we’re gonna have squat to offer in terms of $$$ for tuition.

None of this was in the “middle class white guy brochure” I was given as a teenager, that’s for sure.

The American Dream is now a Pharmaceutical aided coma (so states Captain Obvious).

A St. Pattys Gift For You

(Leper, Leprauchan... what's the difference?)

I don't give a Leprauchans green ass about St. Patty's day. I'm holed up in Corporate Hell. And besides, if you need an excuse to go get drunk once a year, you're a giant pussy. Fucking amateurs.

Here's some ugliness to nurse you through your hangovers. Enjoy watching the ceiling spin...

Toonage:
Nirvana - Gallons Of Rubbing Alcohol Flow Through The Strip
Jon Spencer Blues Explosion - Hey Mom
Sonic Youth - Hallowed Be Thy Name
Crass - Sheep Farming In The Falklands
Husker Du - Drug Party