FIGHTING FOR WHAT YOU BELIEVE IN

FIGHTING FOR WHAT YOU BELIEVE IN 

There are times in everyone’s life where they do not try hard enough or persist or do what is right in their heart.

They simply follow the crowd. They ignore the causes that are near and dear to their hearts. They ignore their friends because well that person may not be as liked or as popular as they so wish them to be.

However there is one constant with all of these things. You see people come and people go. When you take away all those people and all the material rubbish you are surrounded with, all you are left with is you. Nothing more, nothing less. And no matter who you are or how flawed you may be or what masks you wear to the world, well you know what it is that you believe.

       

“Reputation is for time; character is for eternity.” -J.B Gough

It just really saddens me to see how we as a people don’t fight constantly enough. For our world’s belief (belief as a whole), for our friend’s beliefs, for our core beliefs. What a sham(e).

Belief on the Whole

When the whole of something deteroriates all we are left we is parts that are somewhat combined and somewhat fragment.

Thankfully most of us voted in this election. The majority spoke when it came to the presidency. However one of the things that makes me most proud is that despite the unfortunate ruling in California people are peacefully protesting Prop 8. They are not bombing abortion clinics or looting stores, they just want to be heard.

       

Keith Olbermann. Whether you agree with him or not this man has a lot of passion and the kind of fight that more of us need. We all need to express and not repress and listen to each other. Well I let him say the rest:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cVUecPhQPqY

Frankly for his belief and his expressions well that helps the world on the whole. If not helping the current vote or current situation it maybe helps move people in the future. It’s not about shifting the view of one or two or three, it’s about a shift in the generations to come. If generations didn’t progress forth from their predecessors well then we wouldn’t have had a black president now, would we?

       

Belief of Friends

Obviously none of us believes everything another individual says. Friend or foe, husband or ex-boyfriend, wife or mistress we all have disagreements and similarities. The thing that we must remember is that WE chose to have this people as our friends. We are not forced. This is not an arranged marriage (sorry for those of you that it is).

Once upon a time, one of my really great friends in life had a great mutual respect for me and I for him. Yes, he was overprivledged and yes he was over the top a good deal of the time but I believed in him as a person, as a friend. I stood up for him many a time. I will admit on occasion this wasn’t the “popular” move. I even lost touch with a few acquaintance type friends because of this. Still I believed in his inner goodness.

Not everyone sees this good in other people. Everyone has good in them. People usually only put emphasis on the bad. It’s a sad fault but that is life. I saw the good and it caused me to perish in ways but sadly not everyone in life can accept your choices and not everyone can be your friend.

       

“If it harm none, do as ye will.”

Also in the same aspect if we agree with our friends and they get persecuted for it we need to stand up as well. And vice versa.

If they don’t believe in going home with someone from the bar, I need to tell that other person to back off when they get too agressive and my friend can’t do it himself.

If they didn’t do drugs and I was I wouldn’t glorify it and push it down their throats.

It’s all about respecting one another and standing up for what you ascertain to be true.

Yes, we are not perfect. I am guility of not fighting at times when I should have but am getting much better at this through the years. Yeah my depression gets in the way at times, but if I ever had to be there for my one of my true friends I would. My situation, financially, emotionally or spiritually, would not effect this. I have done some pretty stupid things to try and protect the people I love but I would do them all over again.

     

Belief of Our Core

Perhaps the most important set of beliefs that we have are the ones that lie at our core. When the day is done and the lights are out at night, all you have is you. You are the only person whose own beliefs you can control. You must stand up for them at all costs.

Call them morals, call them creeds, call them principals, call them what you will. They are all uniquely ours. Some people live by more beliefs on a consistent basis and others fly by the seat of their pants. Without these beliefs, there is but a shell of a person, a body without a soul, a face without a name.

As I stated before we are not perfect. I believe in love, but that does not mean I haven’t ever had sex with a stranger. I believe in respecting others, but I’ve definitely been an asshole my fair share of times. I am not going to list all my beliefs one by one since I know what they are and hold them close to me and they affect the way I lead my daily life.

       

People can be very devious creatures. They find out you believe in love; they try and pull you around by a string. They find out you are generous; they blatently take advantage of this. They find out you are honest; they lie their teeth off. Opposites do attract and at times this can be tumultuous.

In a room crowded full of people acting completely fake to one another, would you be fake as well?

“Many a man’s reputation would not know his character if they met on the street. ” -Elbert Hubbard

How very true. You see what we portray to the world is not necessarily who we are. If people strived to make their two sides less in conflict perhaps we would all live in a world Mr.Hubbard would be more proud of today.

        

So truely ask yourself, are you fighting for what you believe in? Even if you are only fighting for the beliefs in your heart it is a start.  Inside each and every one of us within the deepest darkest core and tucked away through all the recessess of pain, misfortunate, and chaos is one thing that always burns. That one thing is love.

  By SpaceDog

Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watcher (21/365)

“Look I know You’re young Guys and I could care less if You Guys wanna Drink some Beers or Smoke a little Pot, But NOT on My time, NOT on My dime You hear Me?” asked Bob in a  Authoritative Tone that resembled a Stern, but Fair Father Figure more than a Boss.

“I here You loud and clear Sir.” replied Lee being sure to sound as Sincere as He actually was.

“I’m not joking here I don’t need any extra bullshit to deal with. I already got a heaping helping of Everyday Bullshit on My damn Plate. This is a Business and I’m not in the Bullshit Business. This isn’t a damn Manure Factory for Christ’s sake You know what the hell I’m saying?” said Bob who was beginning to sound a bit worked up.

      

Bob walked over to the Office’s Big Plate Glass window and peered out Purveying the Gas Station from one end to the Other as if He was standing Guard. Bob then turned to Lee and sighed before offering Lee the Job which Lee gladly took.

“Now I don’t wanna come off like a hardass here, But I’m dead serious I don’t tolerate a bunch of juvenile bullshit. You gotta see where I’m coming from.” said Bob exasperatedly, “There was this one time a couple of the Boys who were off work swung on by to keepTheir Buddy who working the Overnight Shift from 11pm to 7am company. Well They’re hanging out and decided since it had gotten so damn late that there wasn’t a single damn car out on the Road more or less one needing a fill up.”

       

Bob wondered behind the Office Desk as He talked and started to fuck around with some of the Work Order’s on the Counter. Lee couldn’t help at this point thinking Bob looked like Mario’s (from the Classic Super Mario Brothers Video Game) lesser known Older Brother Antonio or some shit.

“Anyway These geniuses go buy some beer from the Connivence Store across the way there, and started knocking them back.” continued Bob as He started to fiddle with the Computer Mouse while squinting at the screen ignorer to see what it said before finally continuing the Story.

     

“So its the following Day which was a Saturday so that’s a busier Day around here being the Weekend and All. Well around lunch it was around 1 in the afternoon if I remember it right a big old wind started blowing. Well wouldn’t you know it all of a sudden You know what starts blowing down off the Roof?” asked Bob fustratedly, “Damn Empty Beer cans. The Guys thought it was funny to throw Their empty’s from the previous Night up on the damn Roof instead of just chucking them in the damn Trash Dumpster.  So as a result I now had a barrage of Beer Cans flying off the Roof with every Gust of Wind pelting My Workers, The Customer’s, The damn Pumps, and worst of all the Customer’s Cars. And on top of it all the damn things are scattered all over the damn Lot rolling all around like a bunch of aluminum tumbleweeds or some damn thing. It was a complete mess, and damn near killed off My customer base because No One wants to deal with that bullshit just getting some damn Gas You know.”

      

Stay Tuned Kiddies for Tomorrow’s Exciting Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (22/365)

Thanks for Reading,

  By Les Sober

Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watcher (20/364)

Lee nonchalantly picked up the phone and called Frank’s Fossil Fuel Gas Station. He had brief (yet very to the point) conversation with a Man who identified Himself as Bob told Lee if He was actually interested in Applying He should swing by and Apply in Person. Lee got His shit together and hopped in His car and sped off towards Frank’s Fossil Fuel with High Hopes.

Lee pulled up to Frank’s Fossil Fuel Gas Station to find your basic 8 Pump Gas Station with a small office and two bay Garage set up. Lee parked next to the Dumpster, exited His Car, Walked Determinately into the Office, and asked to speak to Bob. While He waited for Bob He looked around the Office curiously inspecting the lay out and contents.

It seemed to be your typical far  small set of High School Locker Room Lockers in the far left corner opposite the door. There was a small and surprisingly clean Restroom located in the back right corner off of the Office. There were a couple shitty chairs in a half assed U shape forming a cramped and grimy waiting area for those waiting for their car repairs.

On the Right was the Door that leading the actual Garage and a tiny L shaped “Cashier” complete with an Out Dated PC, a Pay Phone (Yes the Dinosaur of Telecommunication), a Cheap ass Office Rack stuffed with fist fulls of Disorganized looking Paperwork, and a Rack of miscellaneous Engine Products with Different basic motor oils, Power Steering System Fluid, and Anti-freeze.

       

Just as Lee was wondering how fucking back dated the feeble collection of Magazines actually were the Garage Door swung open and a Short and Stocky Man entered dressed as a Mechanic who’s name tag read Bob.

“So you’re here for the Job are Ya?” asked Bob questioningly as He did a quick head to toe visual scan up and down of Lee.

“Yes Sir I’m Lee.” Lee replied extending His hand.

“You reliable, Can I count on You to show Up, work hard and not get into any bullshit?” asked Bob guardedly.

“No Sir I don’t even know what You mean by That?” responded Lee curiositly as Bob did in all due fact seem like a Strait Forward No Non Nonsense No Bullshit sort of Guy.

     

Stayed Tuned Kiddies for Tomorrow’s Enlightening Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (21/365)

Thanks for reading,

   By Les Sober

The Hallucinatory Hoax: The Placebo Effect Is Real

I have mention once or twice before that after I graduated High School and thought I knew everything about fucking everything. Instead of making the smart decision to go to Collage My buddies (The Arminian and His long time Girlfriend E) and I decided to try our hand at Drug Dealing. Now This was a Time before the Prescription Pill (Xanax, Vicodin, Oxycontin, Valium, and all that Man Mad madness began. Also its’ important to point out We didn’t sell Hardcore Street Drugs so We didn’t deal Heroin, Crack, or Cocaine.

We dealt Marijuana (which is NOT A DRUG but it was Illegal at the Time as California had been to that point the ONLY State that had approved Legal medical Marijuana) LSD in both Blotter & Liquid, Magic Mushrooms, Angel Dust, Ecstasy, a little PCP, and Meth which was a quite few Years away from becoming the National Epidemic it has become today. I mean the first time We decided to sell it (it just called Crystal way back when), and I had no fucking idea what it was. I had done Speed/Crank before, but like I said this was in the very early days of Meth.

       

One of Our biggest Hits if you will was some Highly Potent Blotter Acid called Black Magic. It was called Black Magic because one side was of course plain white and the reverse side had an insanely intricately detailed swirling tribal like Pattern in Black. This was the Acid that I mentioned in another post that was so goddamn strong we cut the Normal sized Hits in Half and sold the Halves as Wholes without complaint from a single customer.

This was of course a great advantage since we were going to Double our profit Margin. Also it may seem weird to most people but believe it or not most Drug Dealers do have feelings, and care to some degree about Their clients/Clientele. We were very glad We had personally tried The Black Magic (as a Quality Test) before selling a single dose to anyone. If We had for whatever reason sold Regular standard sized Hits of Black Magic We would have been ridden with Guilt and racked with worry at selling such a powerful Hallucinogenic Product to utterly unsuspecting Buyers.

Every Dealer has the same categories of Clients. There are the Regulars who You see frequently and are more social with, and then There are the Big Fish Who Buy in Bulk because they’re not just looking to Party this weekend, but for an entire year of Weekends. Then You have the once an a while acquaintances who buy off You intermittently, and of course You have the Chumps who are the sad sacks who get exploited by Their dealers because They’re ignorant and more over usually obnoxiously Annoying. They’re essentially Narcotic Nerds for lack of a better term.

Our to Chumps being due to a small town were also ironically regulars, but they just so happened to be a grade or so behind us. To keep Our strangle Hold on the High School Sales Market We had a Friend of Ours Cid (like Acid minus the A) who too was a year behind us. We all really adored the shit out of Cid the guy was Sarcastically Absurd and insanely fucking funny.

      

Cid was also Loyal and would never Narc Us out if the shit hit the Fan. Also He was trustworthy as Hell I mean He’d pretty much have to be right?! I mean We had to intrust Him with Our drugs AND Our Money in good Faith. And for His part Cid never fucked around with Our product, and His cash counts were NEVER even a Nickel Off.

So when We got Our hands on the Black Magic We figured when it came to Our Dipshit Duo We could (if the plan was successful) triple our Money dealing to these Two Tools. Our Plan was very simplistic indeed. We would Sell them One Half Hit of the Black Magic, and a Second Dose that was entirely fucking fake. Since the Chumps hand’t heard about the New Batch of Acid, We would tell Them the fakes were the last of Our previous batch, and that gave us another advantage when it came to our plan. The whole plan was based on the belief that if the Two Turds took BOTH hits They’d never know one was fake.

       

To make the Fake Hits We cut Open a Letter Envelope the kind with the Safety Design on the inside so You couldn’t hold it up to the Light and see what it was (like say a check for example). To add authenticity We used the Serrated Side of a fucking Butter Knife to create the perforation that so many People were familiar with (Our never came Perforated. It was just one solid Sheet of Blotter Paper), and then applied the slightest mix of Pure Lemon Juice Extract and Table Salt to lend to Authenticity though I have no fucking idea why. None of the Hundreds of Doses of Various Kinds of LSD have never had a taste or residual taste as the case may be.

Once We were done We called Cid who came over and we informed Him of the Plan at Hand when it came to dealing to the Two Twits which He thought was imaginative and Hilarious. And that was that after We told Cid what was up He left with His supplies and said He’d see Us in a couple of Days. A Couple of Days passed on by and true to His word Cid called and said He’d be stopping by Shortly to settle up.

       

When Cid arrived We ushered Him into the Apartment, handed Him a Beer, and asked what was going on. Cid got a dumb founded look on His face which startled not to mention concerned Us since We assumed the Face was indicative of some shitty issue We would have to deal with. Cid took a minute to comprise Himself before answering. Cid then went on to Tell Us that the Two Twats had taken the Bait hook, Line, and Sinker. Cid then put our minds at ease when He confirmed that Our Marks hadn’t figured out the Scam, but that wasn’t all Cid said.

Apparently Chump One in fact did as we perceived He’d do and took Both Hits (I’m not sure if it was actually at the same time or one after the other in an overlapping situation) and was Obliviously Happy. Here’s where it gets fucking really kind of fucking weird. The Second Chump only took the FAKE hit, but instead of discovering Our scam and getting pissed off He had approached Cid requesting MORE OF THE FAKE ACID.

       

After racking Our brains in complete confusion as We sat Dumbfounded by what We had just heard, and Cid didn’t fuck around when it came to Business so We knew He wasn’t messing with Us. In the End We had come up with only two possible scenarios that could possibly explain what had in fact happened.

ONE it was the simple BUT EXTREMELY EFFECTIVE Placebo Effect. This means (even though the Acid the Guy took was 100% fucking fake) because He BELIEVED it was real He thought He experienced the Effects of LSD though He had ingested NONE.

        

TWO was a bit tricker to figure out as a possible explanation. The only other thing that could justify this odd occurrence was that after taking the Hit the Second Chump DID realize it was fake BUT decided not to mention it because He may have been to afraid to do it (and might have been pressured into it by His Friend the Other Chump in question), and was relieved to find out it was Fake. That way He would have avoided any fear he had of doing LSD, and since No one was the wiser He could also get the credit if you will for taking LSD.

Yet to this Day None of Us truly know what the fuck the Second Chump’s true intentions were in this, and chances are We never fucking Will.

Thanks For Reading,

  By Les Sober

Chances

My phone rang one desolate, dank, and cold evening.

She asked for Carlos.

I told her she had the wrong number.

She called back.

She called back a third time.

   

My jack and coke told me that I was bored.

So we talked.

For thirty minutes.

A strange girl and myself.

I don’t talk to strange women.

Women have cooties.

       

So we went on a date. It was rather bizarre. A date with a woman. We met. She was a pretty girl, but I think I was just being nice when I told her this. She liked pixie sticks and newports. I had both of these in my pocket at the time as well. We hit it off somewhat. We saw a movie. Then sanity kicked in and I  never saw her again.

This was the ultimate chance meeting. I wanted to say I went out with my wrong number girl. If I was bi, I would have gotten in her pants so I could say I have sex with people that dial the wrong number. But I had already pilfered my friends phone line one day and made dates with six different guys who were actually calling him. My phone booth whore days have long since vanished.

       

GOOD VS. EVIL

Some chances we take have results not always visible to the naked eye. We take a chance on lending a friend money. Let say $500. That person promises to pay us back but everytime we ask them for our money the subject is changed. We hear about their abusive boyfriend, we hear about how expensive gas is, we hear about their drunken sister.

Then we suddenly remember this person is single. Then we remember gas is like a buck fifty a gallon. Then we recall they don’t have a sister.

So we stop asking.

         

We try not to harm the friendship in this person’s mind even though they might be harming it in ours but not making any attempts to pay us back. They don’t seem to have much of a consciousness or a soul when it comes to these things. Then you think for a second that you are being too harsh. Then you find out another friend of yours lent this person money and never saw a dime of it either.

Several weeks pass by. You have a few drinks at your friend’s house and fall asleep on the couch. In the morning you part ways and find your wallet to be short a few bills. You go home. You wonder what to say. Whether to say anything. What you say is ignored. So you keep silent.

     

Then we go off into the night.

Then we try and forget this person existed.

We hear rumors about their plight.

We hear sordid fairy tales, most likely a melody of facts and fables, everywhere we turn.

We wonder what went wrong, why we took such a chance on them.

Why couldn’t he have been honest? Why can’t we tell the truth and be honest for once?

 

BLACKMAIL

I like the way you look at me.

I like the way you brush your hair.

I think your eyes are a glimpse into heaven.

I know you had sex in your car last night. I am going to rat your ass out.

 Yup sometimes we are lucky little ones and aren’t always the ones with our hand caught in the cookie jar. We catch other people’s hands in the cookie jar quite often too. I was involved in one of these situations before. Well shit I seem to have been involved in many of these situations, who am i kidding?.

Sometimes all we have to do is shut up and listen. You can hear drama from quite a distance.

        

All of the thoughts in my head told me to go for the money. Extort! Extort! Extortitionaaayyyy! I need a vacation I thought to myself. I chose to have a conscience. I laughed about it with the dude, who was the “other woman”. The months worth of laughter provided much more valuable than any payment plans.Chance provided a good chuckle.

CONCLUSIONAIRE

We all take chances. Sometimes they take us.

We have the power in ourselves to determine the final outcome.

Time may have had its way with you.

Time may be your best friend.

        

But when the time comes to make your mark.

Will you actually take that chance you have been dying to take your whole life?

Or will you let time have its way with you and regret those leaps of faith?

Those chances you can’t take back.

Those choices that beckon forth your reaper. 

I simply call him Dismay.

  By SpaceDog

Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watcher (19/365)

Lee waited till He heard the solid plunk of the Dart lodging in the Dry Wall before opening His Eyes. Lee slowly crept towards the Post It that Destiny had guided the Dart to in an almost Ritualistic manner.  When Lee was face to face with the Wall He plucked the Post It off and read His Fate. The Post It had the words Gas Station Attendant. Huh Lee though to Himself this was indeed an intriguing new Venture.

Lee found the idea of working as a Gas Station Attendant on several different Levels. There was that on the Historical Level Gas Stations and America’s Golden Age of Car Manufacturing when The Road was King went hand in hand. Gas Station Attendants played a much bigger role back in the Old Days where They wouldn’t just refuel Your Vehicle.

They would also wash the front and rear windshields, and if You wanted check Your Oil and other small routine Maintenance  like Putting Air in Your Tire. This fostered a relationship based on reliance where both the Customer and The Attendant shared a mutual respect for one Another.

                  

Now a Days the Attendant and Customer interact as little as Possible while trying to virtually ignore one another. Lee couldn’t help but think that the 1980’s had facilitated the Beginning of the End for the Gas Station Attendant Job. The pivotal point Lee was trying to pinpoint in His mind was when Gas Stations went from Full Service to just Some Guy Pumping Gas.

On a Secondary Historical Level Pumping Gas is/was an Iconic Piece of Americana when it came to Teenagers. Countless Hordes of High Schoolers throughout the Decades have Manned the Pumps be it either as a Summer Job or as a First (Part Time) Job. It was almost a fucking right of Passage type scenario Some would Say (especially if They grew up in the 1960’s to Mid 1990’s)

Lee also held the belief that this very well could actually be His Last Chance to Work a Job Pumping Gas before the Job Itself unfortunately, but inevitable transitioned from Decline to Extinction. The way Lee saw it with More and More Companies Utilizing Technology as well as Mass Incorporation of Robots some Jobs like certain Species would one day soon be completely Non Existent.

          

Some examples where The Post Office which was Doomed to Death the Day E-Mail hit the Mainstream. Robots replaced Auto Mechanics on the Assembly Lines at the Big American Auto Plants causing Mass and Widespread Layoffs as the actual number of Human Employees dwindled to just a handful. Traffic Camera’s are currently killing off the Mass Majority of Toll Booth Attendants who’s last salvation Lies in Large Cities with Multiple Forms of Public Transportation like Subways for Example.

The so-called Big Box Store Giants like Walmart and Home Depot have already been cutting Cashier Jobs using Self Check Outs. In fact the Number of Self Checkouts is on a steady and consistent rise. It’s gotten to the point that some Major Companies like Apple are looking to Fully Automate Their Stores thus requiring NO HIRING OF HUMANS.

        

Lee chuckled to Himself since the Idea of the Condescending assholes over at the Apple Genius Bar being out of a Job due to the Technology of the Company they serve so fucking Proudly puts Them out of Their Asses jobless. to be utterly Hilarious.

Stay Tuned Kiddies for Tomorrow’s Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (20/365)

Thanks for Reading,

 By Les Sober

Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watcher (18/365)

Lee awake around 7:00am and remembered He needed to get a New Job. SO Lee started His morning routine starting with a Lengthy Shower. After His shower Lee headed downstairs, turned on the Coffee Maker, Packed His Bong, and sat down with the Want Ads.

Lee wasn’t too concerned about the prospect of landing a new job as Lee had done His homework. You see with Lee’s Personal People Watching Employment Plan He had to keep one Eye on the immediate future since He only allowed 90 days per Job. So Lee had gotten in the habit of par-oozing the Want Ads on a Daily Basis to see what was currently available, and might be a Future Employment Prospect (aka a Job He’s get a kick out of having).

        

Some of the Jobs Lee had scouted Possible Prospects especially in the last couple of weeks which had yielded a Plethora of Potential. Some such Jobs were for example A Trailer Park Supervisor, A Parking Lot Attendant, and Rest Stop Night Time Security Guard. he had also contemplated working at An Exotic Pet Shop, Cigar Shop, Tattoo Parlor, Brewery, and perhaps in a Pawn Shop too.

Lee took some time to mull things over in His mind as He drank His Coffee while intermittently Hitting His Bong. When all was said and done Lee who had always been bad at making designs was No Closer to His answer than He had before. Since Lee found Himself in this hapless situation decided to copout, and use the Shitty Cliche Romcom meets Dipshit Disney Method.

       

Feeling like a suckass Sellout Lee wrote out His options on Post It Notes, and then stuck them in no particular order to the wall of His Living Room. Lee made all His Life decisions in His Living Room. Lee thought it appropriate considering the Historical Rebranding of the Living Room.

To keep it simple the History of the Living Room is as follows in a condensed version. Originally what are now Living Rooms were called Parlors as in Funeral Parlor. Times and Society changed when Undertakers Opened Mortuaries, and the Science of Embalming was Discovered. Thus Families didn’t have to Display Their dead Family Members in the From Room of Their House for Several Days before Burial (basically at Home Wake that lasted typically 3 Days).

       

It was at this time in History that The Parlor which was associated with Sorrow and Death was simply and brilliantly renamed The Living Room. The reason is simple the Room Associated with Dying would now be the exact opposite a Room for Living. Thats why Lee thought it just made sense to make major Life Decision and the like in His Living Room.

Lee had all the Post Its up on the wall at last. He then Took a Huge Hit from The Bong, Closed His Eyes, and Exhaled Slowly He threw the Dart to decide the Next Step in His Destiny.

      

Stay Tuned Kiddies for Tomorrows Thrilling Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (19/365)

Thank for Reading,

By Les Sober

Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watcher (17/365)

Goddamnit! Lee thought not because He was moments away from being seriously fucking Fired by a Furious Fran or anything like that. Lee was annoyed because Fran was going interfere with Him getting to see the Conclusion of the Parking Lot Lunacy.

“LEE WHAT THE HOLY FUCK IS GOING ON?! WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS WHAT THE FUCK AM I LOOKING AT?!!” Screamed Fran like a goddamn Airhorn. It wasn’t so much because He was infuriated, but mainly to be heard over the Sea of Sound in the Parking Lot.

      

“What the Hell Fran this shit is some act of God shit I didn’t fucking plan for this shit to happen for fuck’s sake.” said Lee indignantly even though He knew His firing would play out this way. Lee knew He would be unfairly held accountable for the insane shit that was far beyond His control in the first fucking place, but He’d be damned if He didn’t Go Out Swinging.

“How did you let this happen, and why did you let it get totally out of fucking control?” Demanded Fran who’s Blood Pressure was so high His face was flushed making Him look like He had a fucking 3rd degree Sunburn.

          

“They just showed up and jumped the shit out of Me. I was concerned that perhaps the Little Old Lady at the Door was perhaps a tad senile and might be lost. I unlocked the Door to see if She need assistance, and Her Anti-Porn Posse shoved Their way in. Next fucking thing I know Their fucking rioting and wrecking the Joint.”Lee replied matter of factly as He stood His ground.

“Well goes without saying that as of this moment You’re fucking Fired. Give Me Your Key.”said Fran through clenched Teeth now on the verge of having a Full Blown Stroke.

        

Lee figured fuck it there wasn’t any point in arguing since He didn’t actually give a shit about the Job, and has thoroughly enjoyed the Events of the Day. Lee took the Shop Key off His Keyring and tossed it lamely in Frans direction before getting in His Car. As Lee drove off (down Route 22 to the Prospects of a Better Job to come) He shot a quick glance in His review mirror to get a final look at the Spectacular Sex Shop Showdown, and Smiled with Satisfaction.

Stay Tuned Kids for Tomorrows Enticing Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (18/365)

Thanks for Reading,

  By Les Sober

The 3 Tiers of The Flea Market

Over the last few Months I (along with My Wife and a Few Select Friends of f-yourblog) have been hitting up the Local Weekend Flea Market. The Weekend part is due to the fact that this particular Flea Market is only Open Saturday & Sunday. Also when I say Local I mean an Hour long Drive Away from Our Home Office in the Sticks.

During Our time Scouring The Flea Market for Cool Shit that We like or Appealed to Us We learned the Lay of the Land, Scored some really Good Deals, picked up some kick ass Cool Pieces, got to Know Our favorite Vendors, and started to build a more Personal Relationship with Them.

We observed that the Quality (and Coolness of the various Merchandise) along with the People Selling it relied on a very simple Geographical Geometry. It consisted of Three Principle Parts or Territories as I prefer to refer to it as.

     

At the Center of the Flea Market is the Big Building or Heart if You will because like a Heart without it the Entire System Dies. Next as You work Your way Outward from The Big Building You find The Vendors of the Cement Circle that Surrounds the Encompassing the Entire Exterior Perimeter of the Big Building.

And Lastly there is the Sketchy Outer Circle frequented by “Vendors”that I have dubbed The Gravel People. Their feeble Circle separates the very Fringe of the Flea Market from The Dirt Parking Lot (that at one point was Gravel but obviously there hasn’t been any attempt at upkeep since it was installed).

Don’t worry Dear Reader I will elaborate further on the Three Tiers in Detail as I describe The Who’s & What’s of the Three Very Different Tiers of said Flea Market. I know right know it may seem rather confusing if You haven’t either been there or at least seen Pictures. Well Lets get started in that case.

      

The Big Building is a rather interesting structure. There is a Main Hallway that runs around half a mile from one end to the other. Along this long corridor are intersecting Hallways that are Alphabetically Labeled, and designated with a Directions such as C North. To Me it would look like a set of Cartoon Stitches if You could get an Arial Photo of it, please feel free to refer to the Diagram (Diagram: +++++).

The only Downside outside of Restrooms that make the Restrooms at Bus Stations look Sterile is the Building Lacks Heating and Air Conditioning. Needless to say Spring and Fall are the Prime Seasons due to Their temperate climate and Milder Weather. I have personally gone in July, and holy shit I can’t even describe how God Awful Hot it was. Within 5 minutes of Entering the Building I was Sweating like I was on an African Safari and shit.

      

The Stalls that line the Walls of the Big Building Aesthetic is reminiscent of Third World Markets. It all starts with the fact the Big Building is in all actuality a Massive Prefabricated Structure comprised of a Wood Frame and Corrugated Metal Siding. It gives it the feel as if You’re wandering around in some Giant Garden Shed Display Model and shit. The Booths are Open in the Front located between Two Make Shift Walls slapped together with random Pieces of Ply Wood in a Clapboard Architecture Style.

There are some more Grandiose Vendors Who have build Faux Store Fronts complete with Plexiglass Windows, Exterior Doors, and Wood Frame with Painted Ply Wood walls. And they’re all types of Businesses You can Find Besides the Usual Vender Peddling a Schmorgesborg of Assorted Wares such as Lamps, Glassware, Antique Furniture, Vintage Video Games/Toys, Clothes etc.

       

Some of the Exceptions are an Exotic Animal Vendor, A Krantom Dealer, a Palm Reader, Knife/Sword Dealer, a Crappy Dairy Queen Knock Off, Hemp Product Hawker, Computer Repairs, a T-Shirt Screener, a Head Shop, an exclusively Hot Sauce Salesman, a Boiled Peanut Vendor, A Leather Dealer, A Pair of Old Men that Sell Pet Fish, an Ice Cream Joint and a Couple of Christian Ministries holding Court and general talking about God/Bible/Jesus.

The Vendors that Operate in the Big Building are the most Personable as well as Knowledgeable (Perspectively) when it comes to Their Merchandise. They also have the Vast Majority of Quality and Interesting Pieces. The Inside Vendors are by far more Friendly, Welcoming, and Engaging than Their Counterparts that occupy the Subsequent Additional Two Outer Circles. These Vendors seem to have a serious Carnie Vibe to say the Least. It’s a VERY tight knit Community. They all know each other and all get along, and They take care of One Another. Be it Watching a fellow Seller’s Booth while They take a Bathroom Break to Running into Town to Get A Fellow Vender Lunch.

     

Speaking of the Outer Circles lets address the Vendors of the Concrete Tables now. These Vendors set up is far more simplistic than the Big Building’s Booths. The Vendor rents a Large Stationary Table constructed of Concrete thats lined with a shabby sidewalk that laps the Big Building. Now the Concrete Table Crew have the Option of Providing Their own Tent to protect Their Merchandise and Customers from the Blistering Sun of Summer or for the Gloomy Overcast Slightly Rainy Days.

The Concrete Table Vendors wares are less distinguished, and more Generic than the Collection of Cool Antiquities located Inside. Here You can find People Peddling more common wares such as Clothing, Bargain Jewelry, DVDS/CD’s, Old Yard Equipment, Perfume/Calone   and Fresh Produce such as Fruits and Vegetables. This strike Me as the kind of Shit You more Typically see Someone Selling on the Corner Sidewalk in Any City USA.

      

The Vendors like Their Merchandise are Unassuming, don’t get Me wrong They aren’t rude or assholes They just act the same as any Retail Employee in They hang back and wait for a Purchase without really even acknowledging Their Customers. Their quite and Reserved in Their own right.

There are certain advantages if You can find them as Well. I mentioned that inside the Big Building there was a Overpriced Knife/Sword Dealer, and I’ve been collecting Knife/Swords and such for 15 Years from Retail to Pawnshop. The point is I’m not blowing smoke outta My ass and Up Yours, I actually due know what the fuck I’m talking about here.

Well not too long ago while walking The Cement Circle I found a Boisterous and EXTREMELY Friendly Man who was also there to solely sell Knife/Swords. The difference in the Vendor was He was Happy and Humble where as the Knife Guy in the Big Building Thinks WAY TOO HIGHLY of Himself to the point He comes off rather rough and bit condescending. Let’s just say He doesn’t know as much as He thinks He does. He just got lucky and has a good customer base which is Why I assume He has such a Pretentious Attitude.

     

The difference in Merchandise was also notable. The Indoor Knife Guys had Display Cases, Shelving, Shit Hanging suspended over the Counter, and a The Back wall adorned with all types of Weapons hanging on it (it’s Overkill You ask Me). Now the Gentlemen selling Outside had His Knifes in Recycled Produce Bins with Price and sometimes a Unique Description like “CONFISCATED AT AIRPORT” for Example. The Outside Vendor also had a much more accurate Price Point though some of the Knifes needed sharpening or a hinge tightened (But thats Shopping the Flea Market for You. You want pretty packaging in a Tranquil Retail surroundings go PAY RETAIL)

       

Now as for the Last Group of Flea Market Vendors are the aforementioned Gravel People. These are the so called “Vendors” who display Their wares either by Setting them on the Ground, Thrown haphazardly into Extra Large Plastic Bins, and in some bizarre cases They have the Goods in an Actual Pile. It’s as if  They drove up in a Dump Truck packed to the Gills with Glorified Garbage, and Unloaded on the Spot. They kind of shit the Gravel People Sell is Your Typical Garden Variety Yard Sale bullshit. It’s the definition of USELESS CRAP. Seriously No One’s Grandmother would even bother looking at Their junk.

      

The Gravel People are also hard on the Eye as They look like They’ve been living under a fucking Bridge or in a Homeless Shelter. They’re sweaty, dirty, and run down by the trials of living a Hard (and usually unpleasant) Live. Their attitude matches Their Merchandise its quite unattractive. The last time I and My Wife were there We decided to check out the Gravlers for the first time ever since We started frequenting the Flea Market.

While We were overlooking this particular card tabled with Cheap and Broken items on it We overheard some of The Gravelers conversation They were having amongst Themselves. The conversation was One White Trash Meth Addict bitching that He only made $40 in the last 3 weeks, and He hated Thieves to the point He’d Stab/Cut anyone he caught Stealing From Him. The Skinny Old Guy who looked like a late stage Alcoholic nodded His head and mumbled in agreement.

   

I couldn’t help but to look around at this Guys Goods, and Though Who the fuck would even bother to Steal this shit to begin with?! It was the kind of crap You couldn’t even give away for the low low Price Free at Yard Sales half the time. I swear 80% of the Gravlers are there to sell Their sub par shit to fund Their Drinking or Drug Habit.

The other 20% are just a bunch of Poor Bastards just trying to scrape by anyway They Can. It’s those Poor Souls be it a Grandmother who lives in a Single Wide Mobile Home trying to supplement Her Shitty Social Security Check, or Immigrants who came to this Country in Hopes of a Better life for Them and Their Families only to find None. Whatever the Misfortune I try to buy a couple of Trinkets (I honestly end up donating them to Goodwill) from The Poor 20% of the Gravlers now each time I go. I do it because its one of those situations where the Money doesn’t matter to Me, but that couple of Bucks is a much bigger Deal to say Someone fighting to avoid being Homeless or someone Who Needs a decent fucking Meal.

=       

In the End the Flea Market is entirely a World in itself full of Colorful Characters, One of a Kind Pieces, and Stories to Tell. And just like Tattoos or Potato Chips it’s Addictive as all get out. Once You’ve gone and experienced The Flea Market in all its Oddity You’ll find Yourself walking to Your Car while simultaneously Planning Your Next Trip back.

Thanks for Reading,

  By Les Sober

I hate Oprah Winfrey

First of all, I must say I do not entirely hate Oprah Winfrey. The success she has achieved as a talk show host and business entrepreneur is indeed absolutely remarkable.

So why exactly do I hate Oprah Winfrey??? It apparently is today’s million dollar question. Well I happened to watch yesterday’s show with her mentioning some mumbo jumbo about never having to be overweight or unhappy ever again.

So anyway……she had some talking head middle aged woman on with her blabbing about her new book or some grandiose bullshit like that. Then she had different assorted women talking about their weight loss struggles or something like that. I don’t even really know I was really not even paying that much attention.

   

However there were several things that greatly disturbed me. This talking head blabbing woman on there with her, maybe she was a doctor or some accredited something or another, talked about how in order to lose weight you cannot deprive yourself and shouldn’t count calories and all that.

People like this are exactly the problem that we have with obesity in this country. For Oprah Winfrey (who so many women understandable look up to her) to allow this woman to say something like this is a complete mockery.

First of all in order to lose weight one must create a calorie deficiency. You have to burn more calories then take in order to lose weight. I highly doubt Oprah’s legion of follows is going to burn more calories then take in if they do not deprive themselves of food somewhat. No one really wants to do two hours of cardio (or an hour of high intensity interval training) on a daily basis in order to keep consuming their fried chicken or their sugary treats or their ice cream or their cheesesteaks or their biscuits and gravy.

    

Then she goes on about how the most important thing is to be happy with your creator and you will be happy. OK that is fine and all. Now we get to have a bunch of fat women sitting in church not depriving themselves and celebrating with their 3500 calorie chompdown at the Old Country Buffet. While God is an important figure in many people’s lives it is not the above all and end all of happiness. Well if there is a God when you die I am sure it is, unless you are a naughty Catholic and thus damned to hell.

      

The craziest thing about Oprah’s struggles is that she is so rich that she should not need to worry about what she is consuming and how much is exercising. She could easily have people figure this out for her. She could easily have wonderful meals made for her that are delicious and low calories. She could easily find something to graze on like lettuce or carrots or hoodia. Yes I said hoodia.

Hoodia is found in South Africa or other parts of Africa. Oprah is a racist. It is quite funny how we can allow black people to be racists in this country but not white people. Oh wait, I forgot about the small but vocal minority of people in this country that consider themselves birthers. People that believe are president is not from this country. But this is not about Obama. This is about Oprah.

I’m really not all that frazzled by Oprah’s comments on the web talking about the white people that work for her. I might say the same about black people I worked with who were kind, decent people due to the fact that most of my contacts with black people have been with gangsters, criminals, and black men who have some kind of horrible fever for my flesh.

       

I’m really most appalled by Oprah not allowing whites into her school in South Africa. If someone white did this it would be all over the place. It would be protested and it would be stopped. I suppose because this is in a foreign country that only recently ended apartheid the people there are more then happy about having the blacks away from their white kids. Oprah is only adding to the problem. She is not helping that country progress. All the money in the world she has does not make this right.

So in closing I must say this. Oprah should really inspire our country’s women (and possibly men) to lose weight by setting an example. So many people admire her and this would mean a lot to so many people. On this one regard I have to say that Oprah is a quitter and a major disappointment to me.

Mind, body, and soul Oprah. Show me some gusto. Until then enjoy being overweight. Enjoy your shortened life span. Enjoy your rolls, both at the table and under your clothing. Inspire. You’ve lived, you’ve dreamed. Your generous. I know I’m all over the place here but in closing all I can say is I am very disappointed.

  By SpaceDog