family – Page 3 – f-your blog

The Amazing Adventures of Dr Lisa Lithium Part 1

In a place not far from where you may live a little girl was born many eons ago. The year 1950. Her place of birth though remains a mystery. She was found in a public restroom outside of an unknown Washington Township. All that was found with her was a piece of paper which read, “This is Lilith. We do not want her. In the toilets she shall remain, the sewage that she is.”

She was found by a family named Smith and a family named Jones, though these were not the names the families had come to America bearing. They were the 1950s version of a gay couple; two gay men and two lesbians who after one drunken evening found each other’s truths and married.

The families decided to rename her Lisa Smith. Lilith was not a name they wanted to keep attached to her, with or without the harrowing note. She was named after a longtime friend who knew their truths but had passed away in a horrific boating accident.

Dead Lisa was a bubbly, warm soul who always gave 110% of everything. If you needed a lift she was there. A shoulder to cry on. A hug. A handjob. Anal. Dead Lisa was a bit too ahead of her time and this is ultimately what lead to her untimely demise.

It was so told that while vacationing in the bayous of Mississippi, Lisa and two friends had the unfortunate experience of a foundering motorboat. On top of this, the propeller had completely stopped working. One friend wished that someone could swim and push the boat towards safety. Lisa heard the call and into the water she went.

She was only in the water for about a minute when she emitted a scream. A gator was attacking her. It took a healthy bite out of her shin, not quite taking everything below that but leaving her dangling like a rogue piece of spaghetti not wanting to play with the other spaghettis on the fork.

Amid her agony suddenly the propeller reactivated. Usually this would be a good thing but she had won the Powerball of bad luck. The gator had dragged her directly to it. This was the actual cause of her death, not the gator, but her being motorboated by a motorboat. Just to top things off as she went under it took off all the recognizable features of her face. Her soft lips. Shredded. Her fat pointy little nost. Her green eyes sunken deeper into her skull. Her forehead shredded to the bone.

But enough of Dead Lisa. This is the tale of the living one. She will not be denied.

(Stay tuned for more….)

By SpaceDog

Returning to Man the Keyboard

As Our Reader are readily aware at this point We have a tendency to how do You say Fall off the Face of the fucking Earth. For this Inconvenience We Wholeheartedly Apologize, and We will attempt to keep the Sporadic Disappearances to a Bare Minimum.

So if You possibly find Yourself pondering what exactly it is/was that We were up too while We were wondering in the Void I’ll tell You, well I’ll give You the Pertinent Points as there’s No Point in Me writing a bunch of Unnecessary shit, and You reading it.

I’m aware most if not All of Our Reader’s more than likely don’t give a shit, and would be happy if We just Stayed Put. You’ll have to Pardon Me then as My Mother raised Me with Manners. Manners are truly a thing of the Past as Manners DIED right after Chivalry.

Now its a bunch of Self Serving, Self Absorbed, and Self Centered Social Media assholes Who desperately want to become the next Big Social Media No Talent Scumbag Hack or a greedy Youtuber twat who only cares about Monetizing Their fucking crappy Channel.

It’s all the same stupid shit. It’s the “Look at Me! Look At Me! I’m so interesting, I’m too talented, I’m God’s gift to fucking Humanity.” mentality. Take FaceBook for instance where assholes post constantly all fucking day long about:

Where They are (NO ONE GIVES A FUCK YOUR AT WALMART ASSHOLES)

What They Ate (ITS FUCKING FOOD NO BIG WHOOP)

Who They Saw or Did shit with (WHO CARES I DON’T KNOW THOSE SAD SACKS OF SHIT.)

What They’re Doing (SO FUCKING WHAT WE ALL HAVE SHIT TO DO.)

What Mood/Relationship Status is (I DON”T GIVE A FUCK WHO YOU FUCK OR HOW YOU FEEL BECAUSE YOUR A FUCKING FACELESS FAKE AS FUCK FB “FRIEND”)

Anyway I digress.

The First thing I for One was dealing with was I got into a Dispute meets Debate. Then when I became Irritated I was convinced a Thought I had had previously was In Fact absolutely right. I still believe this. As for what the fuck is the Reality of the Situation I believe (after conferring with My Wife) that it squarely falls on My Brother. My Brother You see is really shit at making Decisions as He spends most of His time Precariously Perched on the Fence unwilling to set Foot on either Side.

I had initially thought My Brother’s Wife was playing a much larger part in the matter than She actually was/is. Though to be utterly honest I did spend a good deal of time trying to Demonize the shit out of Her for it. So be it.

I also had the distinct displeasure of seeing My Cardiologist for a 6 month check in to see if I’m Alive and Still Kicking essentially. There was a fucking Medical Student who for this particular appointment was part of the Package. NOW YOU CAN simply tell said Student or the Doctor that You don’t want the fucking Student to sit in on YOUR Appointment with YOUR DOCTOR.

I know They have to fucking learn, but I view these Shadowing Exercises to be GLORIFIED FIELD TRIPS for Medical Students. I don’t want a complete fucking Stranger sitting in the fucking corner during My Appointment. I know this isn’t the popular PC answer that’s because its the fucking TRUTH.

The Student DOESN’T NEED TO BE PART OF THE APPOINTMENT because I’m talking to My Doctor about sensitive Personal Health History, Current Situation, and Future Treatment Plans such as Various Medications or Diagnostic Tests or perhaps Surgery. Your relationship with Your Doctor is fucking PRIVATE thats why Medical Records are LEGAL DOCUMENTS, and We have a little thing called DOCTOR-PATIENT CONFIDENTIALITY.

But I’ll Digress for Now.

The Biggest Challenge over the Last Week was the Shit Weather. A massive motherfucker of a Storm front came rolling through Our neck of the Woods. It was Overcast and Rainy along with Blustering Winds and Severe Thunderstorms. So needless to say Our Internet Connection Capabilities/ Service was Virtually Non Existent. It’s the One True Disadvantage to Living in the Middle of No-Fucking-Where USA. Hopefully things will Markably Improve Next Month when We switch Our Internet Provider.

The f-yourfilm “Shoot My Face Off, I Like It” (SMFO) Video Game Documentary has already turned into a Labor, No Burden of Love. This Project is not an easy to say the Least. I feel like some sort of fucking Gamer Spy or some insane shit. The Company that made the Game Vanished overnight, and it Removed almost every Scrap of Evidence that the Game ever in fact Existed at All.

To further make things difficult the Japanese Government ended up Outlawing SMFO and Did everything in It’s power to make any and all information pertaining to SMFO miraculously Disappear from Public Record. All Sites and Forums for SMFO along with any News Story or Article (Televised, In Print or Online) or Advertising pertaining to SMFO has apparently been Suppressed to the umpteenth degree.

We may just end up Posting a 6 part SMFO Series on What We have managed to scrape up by the skin of Our Teeth. Since We aren’t at all sure the Documentary will be able to Answer the Vast Majority of the Questions surrounding this Video Game Enigmatic Mystery. We shall See.

For those Who have commented on the LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER series Yes We fucked up and LJPPW faltered in Our goal of Daily Posts/Posting. We were concerned that New Reader’s may become confused or miss something because They might look at the Post List and think its a LJPPW centric Blog. We have had a sit down (by this I mean We sat around Our Favorite Bar and Brainstormed using Alcohol as Fuel for the Process) and here is what We decided.

The first thing We decided to due is Scrape the Failed Daily Post/Posting since its an exercise in Futility, BUT We knew We had to think of something. Quite Obviously the easiest thing to due was Limit the Number or Posts to Every Other Day. This seemed like a similar set up issue wise as the Daily Posting Deal. We certainly didn’t want to fuck up again so We kept Thinking and Drinking.

Someone suggested perhaps making just 2 LJPPW Posts a Week One on Monday at the start of the Week, and One on Friday at the End of the week as well. This was Not at all a bad idea yet it seemed to be lacking something key. In the End We agreed LJPPW feels like a Sunday Comic like Dick Tracy and Tarzan from The Past in Print. Thats to say its an ongoing Story but like with Sunday Comic or Television Shows its contained to a single Episode Per Week. That Episode will be Posted every SUNDAY starting with this Coming One (6/30)

Thats All We got for Now So Stick With US and See Were It Goes.

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

Misunderstandings, mishaps, and misguidance….

Sometimes things are done that are irreversible. Whether they are words, whether they are thoughts, whether they are actions, whatever means the university has to dispense of them, they to be insurmountable when they occur.

I almost wrote about one of these misunderstandings lately. Fortunately the gods of social media, let the misunderstanding between the X on my browser and the little button called submit blur. This was a positive misunderstanding.

However most misunderstanding is not positive. Most of it is what divides people from one another. Misunderstanding is different then a lie. Lies are purposeful and can be hurtful whether or not they were intended to be. It’s just that most lies can be exposed as such. As lies, as mistrusts, as transparent as the shaky foundations they were built from.

They can be fixed in many cases, harmless in others, and cause a complete lack of mistrust and mishap and all the other mis- words you want to think of when done on a frequent basis.

Misunderstanding is where the real problem lies. Too many people are too busy with their lives, with the things going on; important and complete frivolity to even bother to try and understand others and the things they say and the things they do to try and grasp a more complete picture.

Of course there are people who I would rather have misunderstand me then know the complete and total picture. We repaint this on a daily basis, usually just a few strokes here and there on the canvas, other times we wish to start a whole new work of art. Usually it is just a few strokes here and there with an occasional day of massive labour to complete a few more pieces of the puzzle then usual.

Who then are we most upset about when a total lack of understanding occurs??? For me this is friends, parents, lovers, mainly the people closest to me in my life whom I wish to share more of myself with then the casual stranger. Unfortunately this misunderstanding occurs in these situations as well and sometimes it gets a bit more deep then it should, whether the fault of one party or both.

For myself the part about misunderstanding and mishaps, the part occurring involving former lovers and friends, current and former, have shaped things more then anything involving my family.

For me, at least in all my experiences so far, the misunderstandings for me that are hardest are those involving love. Friends and lovers. Lovers and friends.

Love actually????
So what is love? It is a word some people throw around as if they were throwing a penny into the grab penny, take a penny or a penny into a water fountain; while to others it is something that is rarely said in fact all too rarely.

People are so afraid of this word for the most part however but for it to be said meaning friendly love and respect it is rarely done with a throat penetrating kiss or even with a very deep look in the eye unless maybe you are looking at one of your parents. Even if you look at them too deeply, that might be considered incest in some regions.

However when love is said to mean something more then just the friendly type, it is done with a certain tone, it is done with a deep look in the eyes, it is followed by a kiss, a feeling of lightness and is not thrown around like pennies. It should be only used in very special circumstances and once it becomes fodder as a prelude to a kiss or rubbish in order to get your wife to throw up her legs it becomes meaningless as a person telling it to their acquaintances, frenemies, and one night stands.

I believe love can be shown in many different forms. The words, “I love you.” only mean so much. Actions are what show love. Doing nice things for people you care about, treating people with respect and decency consistently not when it is convenient, and holding the door for an old lady show love. Love for your fellow man.

While a lot of those things are just common courteousy, well guess what??? These are all love, just not the Romeo and Juliet bullshit that society raises us on. If they make children read that, why not give a counter point about Syd and Nancy, for better yet something boring about people such as my grandparents who have been together for nearly 60 years and have truly survived the old adage through better and through worse.

Back to misunderstanding…….and love……..

So what happens when love or lack thereof it is misunderstood???? It is a rather unfortunate event. Some people I have really cared about and definitely loved in a friendly, non-romantic manner, well frankly I am afraid to tell them I love them. For some people it is such a tabu, as if i told them to drink a cup of their own urine or walk naked into a church. And it hurts to not be able to say it, even without a look in their eyes, even without meaning, even without a passionate kiss, even without as slight as a passing glance.

It hurts because I feel that is what they need at the moment. Because I have not meant anyone yet who does not like being told that they are loved. It is just when people misunderstand the love that they are being given in which the issues begin.

I’m maybe a victim of this misunderstanding. Maybe because I was raised on Romeo and Juliet and not Syd and Nancy my ideas of romantic gestures are old fashioned, not newfangled. Maybe I’m the last person left who thinks of something sweet as candlelight and a homecooked meal and a freshly drawn bath and rose petals as being appropriate gestures of love, courtship; rather then a bottle of jim beam, a flea ridden motel, and a few packets of astroglide.

And since I sometimes believe this to be true, these are a few things I thought were universal, a few things I would never give to someone except under special circumstances.

The things

Anyway like I said maybe this is because I have too much of a grip on what societal norms seem to be, especially for a person who does not consider himself very much in the norm, but well I do I guess……

Flowers- I feel somewhat that flowers given to someone symbolize a certain love, however this pretty much can be devised into, what the note says if there is a note and if there is not the abundance of the flowers. Special circumstances also can apply like a housewarming gift, a holiday like mothers day, weddings, funerals, etc. However flowers given for no particular reason to me are not common places unless associated with love.

Chocolates- While chocolates never asked to be brought into this whole love mess they fucking have. Thankfully they come in those little gay heart shaped boxes for Valentines Day and come in cheap little packages like a Hershey bar to differentiate between the two of them.

Stuffed animals- Stuffed animals didn’t ask to be brought into this mess either but they have been. I have always thought as them as something a guy wins for his girl/boyfriend, child, wife at the shore and as nothing more or less. Especially when used a prelude to a sexual encounter or as the aftercare for being told you were like someone’s soulmate. But hey maybe I’m just old fashioned. Maybe I’m just stupid.

Banners from airplanes at the Jersey shore- If someone is going to dole out the cash to say they love you being dangled from an airplane or dangled any sort of thing for you up for the whole word to see, it’s either love or a psycho with way too much money.

(women only, maybe men?)- Undies from a place like Victoria Secret- Wait I don’t know about women, but can only imagine this would be love, psychopathy, or a husband buying their wife underwear 4 sizes too small as a suggestion his chick got a bit too big.

Anyway that’s about it I’m getting stupid and I’m more sure about it this time.

The ENDish

It is a shame, that they say all things must come to an end. But in many cases, this is the complete truth. When misunderstanding and mishaps combined equal more then the love of any kind it is very hard to repair without an open line of communication. It would seem for this not to be a very hard thing, yet most people do not wish to maintain communications such as that.

Yet it is the reason that I do things that may seem dumb to others. Like blog. Like saying hello to strangers and holding doors for the elderly. Like listening to others even when they have reached the twentieth degree of annoyance.
Like not needing to hide behind a private profile on social media. Like treating people in equal fashion and manner no matter who they are surrounded by or who I am surrounded by.

Of course I have not been perfect in this and sometimes fall back on my old ways of being a complete and total jackass. If it were perfection I were looking for, I would never have had any friends, any lovers, or even had a family to hold onto at this point in my life.

It is also the reason that people sometimes have very strong opinions of me without getting to know me and just knowing my words or a few choice actions. It is also the reason I may come across as a know-it-all, misinformed, stupid, intelligent, caring, asinine, naive, friendly, or as a complete jackass. But I would rather have people know me or try to have them know me then to constantly run and hide behind a million walls. Yes, it is healthy to have some walls but when all you are doing is building walls, there is no time to enjoy the house behind them.

So for those of you I consider my family and friends I would consider to be like family.

I love you.

For those of you I consider to be little more then acquaintances or frenemies or just random people on my friend’s list or people I do not even know.

I love you too.

And for those of you with whom I may be going through misunderstanding, misfortune, misguidance, mishaps, (pick your favorite -mis word).

I love you still. (and no I’m not lookin’ deep in your eyes)

By Spacedog

The Cell Phone Show Down

One night after having a few beers I decided to call up my Brother in Law who I hadn’t spoken with in some time. Now I had several phone numbers for my Brother in Law since he was a rather active guy shall we say.

Anyway I called the primary number that I had been able to reach him on only to discover it had been Recycled, and now it had be assigned to some unknown random woman. I hung up as soon as I heard the voicemail thinking that was rather strange. Had my Brother in Law ditched one number, but hadn’t given (to my knowledge) a new number to anyone?! My Brother in Law is also know for his extreme impulsiveness so I had to also wonder if there was a scheme afoot.

Well just a minute or two after I attempted to call my Brother in Law my phone’s text alert went off. I picked it up to check the new text it without looking to see who the fuck was actually texting me.

This is where the Shitnado of Absurdity started and would go on to span a couple of hours.

I checked my phone to find it was some fucking Guy texting who I had no fucking clue who the hell he was. I was pondering what the fuck was going on. Well it didn’t take long to find out.

This was in fact the Boyfriend of the nameless, faceless, unknown Woman who was now in possession of my Brother in Law’s old Cell Number. And just my fucking luck he’s one of those Overtly Paranoid Untrusting Jealous Controlling Assholes.

Now I’m going to take a minute to address this type of fucking Guy. I have no fucking clue whatsofuckingever why a Woman would date nor stay with this type of Guy.

This is the sneaky son of a bitch that checks his girl friends phone every chance he gets behind her back.

This is the kind of Shit that thinks every other guy at the Bar is eyeballing his girlfriend, and more often than not it leads to a drunken jealousy fueled fight. And more times than not its also where the asshole boyfriend gets his teeth kicked in.

This is the type of Scumbag that tries or succeededs in controlling his girlfriend’s make up, clothing, and friends through bullshit manipulation.

This is the kind of prick that thinks every one of his girlfriends coworkers is hitting on her daily, and spends his whole day keeping tabs on his girlfriend like a fucking Stalker.

Essentially these type of Guy’s are SO FUCKING INSECURE that it breeds this paranoia of losing said girlfriend causing the said boyfriend to rashly assume that anything with a penis wants to bang his girlfriend, AND/OR he’s afraid she actually doesn’t care for him that much (in this case the jealous Guy is EXTREMELY CLINGY I’m talking about that “You’re Suffocating Me” type shit) and will dump him in an instant.

Granted Clingy sucks to no fucking end BUT its the lesser of 2 evils. Having a Jealous, paranoid, and controlling boyfriend (trying to dictate every aspect of his girlfriend’s fucking life like she’s a fucking slave) SUCKS WORSE.

Now back to our story already in progress…….

So His initial Texts where: Wanting to know who I was, Why was I calling, and that this was his girlfriends phone.

In return I Texted: You texted me so who are you, I told him I was trying touch with my Brother in Law, and got his girlfriends voice fucking mail by accident.

After that he starts acting like the tool that he is. He sends me a screen shot of his girlfriends recent call list with my number highlighted. Now I never denied calling because I did, BUT I had no idea the number had been Recycled to some fucking girl.

Being a Jealous Boyfriend the asshole said he didn’t buy it, and I better stay away from his girlfriend. I could just see this fuck on the other end of the line so to speak standing all tall, puffing out his chest for all its fucking worth, Glaring like a angry drunk hawk, and pacing frantically periodically looking out the windows as he passes for some threat thats not fucking there.

I basically didn’t give a rats ass from the beginning and couldn’t help thinking how many people have accidentally texted or called this girl only to have to deal with her dick of a boyfriend (bitchfriend is more like it.) At this point I really didn’t give a good goddamn about this overly jealous, insecure piece of human shit. I thusly ended the whole bullshit exchange with the alright my fucking bad whatever I deleted the number since its obviously no use to me. And that was that. Well for a few brief minutes anyway.

I decided that if the primary cell number that I called my Brother in Law on was Recycled then what about the secondary number I had. Me being Me and rather drunk came to the conclusion the best thing to do is call it, and find out if the number worked, was Recycled or possibly disconnected.

As it turned out that my Brother in Law’s alternate phone number had also been Recycled again I got some random girls voicemail. I hung up immediately and deleted the number figuring this situation was rather fucked up. LOW AND FUCKING BEHOLD this number too had been Recycled to the same previous asshole. Why the hell did his girlfriend apparently have come into possession of BOTH fucking numbers was baffling as hell.

Needless to say this set the little motherfucker off like a fucking rocket. This time around the little punk ass had the artificial confidence to call me up this time to chat about what the fuck was going on. As I stated I had no fucking idea, and couldn’t get over how utterly moronic this shit was. And now this paranoid and jealous little twat of a boyfriend thinks for sure that I’m scamming on his girlfriend.

The first idea that came to my mind on how to handle this horeshit was the old make him think your fucking insane, some real sick fuck that cuts off people’s heads and wears them as a fucking hat type of a Murderous Madman a real life Slasher Movie. Then I thought how cliche that shit was and opted for a new idea. The new idea turned out to be making this little turd think HE’S THE ONE WHO’S SANITY IS SLIPPING essentially flip flopping the original idea/concept.

This is how it all went down in operation “Its Not Me Who’s Crazy, Thats YOU”. For his part this Jack Ass spewed the normal line of macho bullshit cliques (doing his damnedest to make me think he was 10 feet tall and fucking bullet proof) like Propaganda for Pricks. It was SUCH OVERKILL the Guy was trying WAAAAY TOO Hard to be the almighty Alfa. What an Asshole.

In reality I imagine this little bitch was about 5 feet nothing, weighed about 90 pounds soaking fucking wet, Whiny, All Bark and NO BITE like a Tiny Toy Chihuahua. You’ve heard this shit before and I for one from what I have seen of the World am inclined to agree. Real Tough Guy/ Bad Asses DON’T WASTE THEIR TIME YELLING ABOUT IT WHILE HURLING THREATS AND INSULTS. They know they can kick the shit out of pretty much anyone so there is no reason for them to try and impress people.

I didn’t really have a set plan per say I just ad-libbed and then went from there. It started by me repeatedly telling him that the phone he is calling is STRICTLY a Business Phone. After a while of that I added that ONLY AUTHORIZED People have access to this phone. Again taking a few minutes to repeat this as much as possible BECAUSE its all about REPETITION, REPETITION, REPETITION.

Now before anyone feels the need to point this out theres no need. What I’m talking about is this I DID SWITCH my original story. Originally I told this Putts I accidentally called which was the truth, BUT to aid in my new game of “Who’s Crazy Now” as it were I SWITCHED my stance to I DIDN’T call you. Why you ask?! Well its simply because I needed to switch to keep the game going is all.

At this point the Butthead Boyfriend is getting confused. He can’t figure out why I’m not acting like an asshole too and yelling a bunch of bullshit trying to out macho his punk ass. He also is beginning to lock on the whole Business Phone Story which only serves to increase his confusion. So now he’s running out of steam having screamed himself fucking silly.

This is where I ramp things up. I start speaking in a aggressively Authoritarian Voice like a Law Enforcement does for example. I am now speaking to him like he’s a irritating child that got caught red handed doing some shit they shouldn’t. Some would call it ‘Talking Down” or “Being Condescending” and I would agree with both summations.

I start to shove the I didn’t call you from this phone which so happens to be a highly restricted Business Phone of some unknown sort. I start hammering the little Snot with the line “NO ONE is Authorized to make PERSONAL CALLS on THIS PHONE”

He has no clue now what the fuck is happening, he’s been so thrown off his macho bullshit ranting that he’s begging to flounder. The tables were starting to turn.

I then launched into “I DON’T KNOW who called you from this phone, But if we find out who they are they will be SEVERELY REPRIMANDED for their egregious actions.”

I’m now employing more militant or governmental type of speaking. This poor bastard now was beginning to get nervous that HE was in some sort of Danger. I then just unleashed like a Monumental Shitacane. I informed him that We had no clue who the fuck was violating a strict no personal phone calls from our exclusive Business Only phone. We would find out who called his girlfriends phone hell or high water. That NO ONE was Authorized to use this phone without selectively been given clearance. I went on to say I didn’t appreciate him being difficult and he should reconsider his behavior. I told him then to just drop his despicable attitude because it wouldn’t help him in the long run. This conversation was in fact being recorded (without a reason why given). He’s wasting my time with this trivial nonsense was not a wise decision.

The sad little fucker now is in a state of shock, confusion, and paranoia with good reason. Without acting like a typical macho male Jersey Shore Shithead he had no idea how to deal with the situation, and now had lost any and all control of the phone call. He was left wondering if I was somehow a Cop or Law Enforcement Agent, A Member of Biker Club, Political Group, Religious Group, A Governmental Agency, The Masons or possibly a Militia of some kind. There was no actual context so he became pledged by self doubt, and then had a mental melt down.

Seeing that the game had run its course and getting bored with the whole ordeal decided to end this shit circus once and for all. I told the little Pisser that enough was enough. This conversation was now over. Whoever called his girlfriend had violated Authorization of a Business Phone, and would not call back ever. They would be facing Strict Punishment. He then mumbled some garbage I assume was a last pitiful attempt at being a Big Man I mean his brain was fucking soup at this point the poor son of a bitch.

I then lastly took the time to inform him that if he called back he would be in direct violation of our mutual Cease and Desist agreement (which I made up right then and there there was no agreement of any fucking kind), and We would be keeping tabs on him in the future (thus playing into the paranoia of being watched and possibly being in or getting into trouble in the future.)

To This day I have never spoke with that little Dimwitted Douche again. I do ponder from time to time when I have a free moment to think (like when I’m eating or taking a leak) what the fuck did he tell his girlfriend happened that night or did he just not mention it at all because he still had no idea wtf was going on. Either which way heres looking at you ASSHOLE.

Thanks for Reading,

Les Sober

The Paradox of Family

Along the course of one’s life they will experience a multitude of different people. Some of the individuals will have a nasty and negative affect while others will have a productive and positive influence. There lies a third personality that will knock you down into a sea of negativity only then to throw you a life preserver. I am not a person who grew up with bullies for me that third personality which influenced me to become the core of who I am through both negativity as well as positivity during my grade school years would be my father Stephen Lawrence. My father was my hero and at the same time my tormenter as I grew up.
The most positive characteristic of my father’s that helped me become the man that I have would be that he was well educated he graduated high school, college, got his masters in English, and went on to teach English at Temple University. Now one must remember a person can be well educated , but that doesn’t mean they are intelligent. My father had an unquenchable thirst for knowledge that lead him to be a prolific reader averaging up to three or four books a week. My father read up on a myriad of subjects, fiction and non fiction alike, to satisfy his intellectual curiosities. My father also became extremely interested in cooking and decided to teach himself using cooking shows as well as reading cooking books. By the end of his life he was truly an accomplished chef. My father also loved to travel. He traveled everywhere from Costa Rica to France but he never wanted to be the generalized cliche American tourist. My father taught himself Spanish, French, and Italian for the purpose of being able to converse with the locals as opposed to just being able to hail a taxi or find a bathroom.
I am proud to say that this thirst for knowledge has greatly influenced my life to this very day so much so that I used to joke that I must have been a cat in all of my previous lives. My father taught me to not only question anything and everything, but to research the facts, pertaining to a subject for myself. I’m definitely a “Must see it to believe it” person. Thanks to my father, I also share his enjoyment of learning. Whatever it may be that sparked his passion for knowledge; I am the same way. The best way I can sum up my father’s and my pursuit of knowledge is thus “No one ended up on their death bed wishing they didn’t know so much.”
Unfortunately the worst personality trait of my father was his terrible and intimidating temper. My father would loudly criticize the other party and then he could/would hold a grudge for up to and including decades. My father was also fond of his own version of the cold shoulder. He started the usual way of just coldly ignoring the person he was angry with, but periodically he would walk past the person he had taken issue with and glare at them with intense contempt and unparalleled disgust. He would maintain this icy stare until he was recognized at which point after a minute or so of unholy silence he simply would walk away not saying a single word. My father could get himself so enraged that even the most honest heartfelt apology would accomplish nothing. The issue was only considered resolved when my father was satisfied with the current state of affairs. Then and only then was the argument over. With my father it was never his fault for anything. It was always someone else complicating his life with nonsense, and this served as a constant and all encompassing excuse for his tremendous temper. My father was born with the proverbial chip on his shoulder and nurtured a “The world vs. Me” attitude.
I’m sad to say that I inherited in many ways my father’s abominable anger. I can be criticizing to the point of cruelty, but unlike my father I do not indulge in the cold shoulder concept. Instead of being cold I come in hot and only get hotter as my anger feeds upon itself growing more enraged with each passing minute. Unlike my father who was above insult and profanity I am most certainly not. When angry I swear like a sailor with Tourettes and have no trouble lowering myself to the low level of hurling insults upon one’s character. I, like my father, will only be satisfied when I feel the issue has reached its end and then in my mind it is actually over. Yet through all of this my father’s ill temper has also helped me become a better person in the end. I’m fully aware that my temper greatly mimics my father’s, but once I turned thirty I realized I don’t want or need to be like my father when anger rears its combative face. I started (and still am) working on my anger issues and how I can /could learn to control them before I totally become unhinged to say the least. Now to give credit where credit is due my father attempted and succeeded greatly to control his own anger, but he didn’t start this so called transformation of character until he turned 61. Part of my realization has been, if he could change at 61 then I have the opportunity to not only change my ways, but to do it with a thirty year advantage.
Another major influence my father had on me was his fear of illness as my father was a consummate hypochondriac. My father never had just a common cold he always had cancer. Thats to say my when my father got sick he would immediately go to the worst case scenario and then act accordingly. My father convinced himself he got sicker more often, for longer periods of time, and had the most severe symptoms out of anyone he knew who may have contracted the cold thus far. My father also made a point of making it abundantly clear that he was suffering each and every time he got sick as if he expected that at any given moment he would end up an invalid on his death bed due to his current horrendous state of heath. I possess the same brand of hypochondria with a few exceptions.
Growing up with my father instilled an intense instinct to remain healthy. If my wife or coworker for example were coming down with a cold/flu I automatically go into decontamination mode. I will start to take excessive amounts of vitamins, spray down communal areas with thick clouds of Lysol disinfectant, obsessively wash my hands, and avoid the infected person as much as humanly possible. When I do contract a cold I too assume the worst and begin to compulsively monitor my symptoms for signs of improvement constantly until my previous good health is restored in full.
I think the most admirable thing about my father was his incredibly strong work ethic. When my father took on a task/job or had a specific goal he wanted to achieve nothing short of death could stop him from accomplishing task/job or completing his goal. My father never procrastinated, delayed or did anything half way, for my father it truly was all or nothing. My father gave a hundred percent while staying intently focused on the work at hand, and if the job in the end wasn’t a hundred percent then the job was a total and complete failure. My father knew failure was unavoidable and he none the less detested it.
My father’s incredible work ethic is more than likely the strongest influence my father had on me growing up. When I have a task/job or goal to accomplish I too have to give it a hundred percent or nothing. I won’t let anything get in my way either and will not stop working from the beginning to the end relentlessly. With that said the influence of my father’s work ethic has a definite up side, but it also for me has a detrimental downside as well. I have unintentionally become the most ferocious perfectionist which causes me to be extremely hard on myself. I am most critical of myself above anyone else to the point which I beat myself up over the littlest things making mountains out of mole hills as the saying goes. I at some point along the road decide that nothing so far is any good and I can convince myself the entire project is flawed thus rendering it a futile waste of time and effort.
Once again we can see life is far from being simply black and white. In fact most of life falls into an enormous grey area. While it is true there will be specifically negative influences such as bullies or bad bosses, also there will be positive ones such as siblings or significant others. Most people you encounter will have a mixed influence upon your life and character. There will be some good along with some bad. It all comes down to the following: no matter who or what the influence may be, remember you can take what you like from the situation and leave all the rest behind.

The Cop, The Crooks and The Kegger

It was a night as another night in the small town of Phucitville USA when I along with my friend Space Dog ran into a couple of friends of ours at a local shit strip mall. their names were Firefly and her on again off again love triangle entangled boyfriend Hermoor which is Scandinavian translates into ”War Spirit”. Now the gruesome twosome had gotten themselves into a bit of trouble (selling counterfeit acid) and needed a ride out of town about as fast as they could get one. They asked Space Dog and myself (though I was the one with the car) if they could bum a ride, but this wasn’t just a spin around the block as it were they needed a road trip into the deep south. With Space Dog as my copilot as well as my traveling companion for the return trip I said it be no problem so we planned to meet up the next day and hit the road.

When the morning arrived I drove over to Space Dog”s, picked him up and headed out to meet up with FireFly and Hermoor at the designated location. Once we got to the spot we had to find them in a crowd of people who turned out for some fundraiser “fair” that had been scheduled for the same day. Finally we found them collecting money owed (as he was the biggest drug connection in the entire county in spite of his acid antics) and peddling whatever contraband they had left to fund their/our road trip. At last with cash in hand and out of contraband (accept for the personal head stash Hermoor kept at all times.) we managed to get going as it was going to be quite awhile on the road to say the least. We spent the entire day limping down the highway as my car (being older then dirt) kept over heating every 45 minutes or so (turned out once we arrived to be a minuscule hole in the radiator hose) and smoking weed at every rest area along the way waiting for the car to cool down. Once the sun set traveling was much more productive since obviously it was much much cooler.

It was around 1 am I was driving (Hermoor and I were trading off driving as Space Dog and FireFly where old enough but yet still didn’t have a drivers licenses) I had been driving 6 hours or so straight and started to suffer white line syndrome, thats when your so tired you start to see double as your vision becomes increasingly blurry. I took the next exit I could find and pulled into a gas station at the bottom of the exit ramp. I woke the crew up for refueling the car and ourselves then decided it was time I called home since my family hadn’t seen hide nor hair of me in 72 hours (friends used to call and where told by my family that wasn’t there and had the caller seen me and if so when) I moseyed over to the pay phone (Yup life before cell and smart phones) and called my family collect. No one answered because it was after 1 am in the morning , but the answering machine (yup life before voice mail hard to comprehend even for me) so I left a message saying I was on the road with friends headed into the deep south and would be home in a couple days or so. As soon as I hung up the receiver out of the corner of my eye I saw a fucking cop drive into the gas station and park. Now he didn’t park at a gas pump nor near the gas station’s front door instead he pulled up next to the curb where he could see us and us him (common cop tactic to intimidate so if the civilian acts nervous because fuck their being intimidated on purpose then the cunt cop can fuck them over 9 ways till Sunday.) The first thought that went through collective conscience was “FUCK! Now what the hell we do??!”

What you must understand is the following facts:

I was 19 and my friends were 17-19 years old so to the cops we were a group of young punks.
There was the matter of the various contraband items that comprised Hermoor’s head stash in the car.
We all were exhausted not to mention stoned as Tommy Chong at the time.
We had out of state plates on the car (a natural attractant of unwanted police attention) too.
We had by this time ventured into the religious region of the south and we obviously weren’t church going folk.
Cops are BIGGER assholes in the religious religion of the south BIG TIME.
The way we were dressed made us stand out like the Las Vegas strip. I was wearing a leather biker jacket (no shirt), worn as worn can get jeans, a pair of shot out shit kickers and a dog collar with pad lock. Hermoor was sporting his Black Metal Scandinavian heritage gear that consisted of a Leprous Troll T-shirt, combat boots and some sort of Norwegian viking kilt. FireFly was sporting a tie dyed sun dress and was barefoot like some wannabe woodland hippy elf. Lastly Space Dog was wearing a Sonic the Hemp Hog T-shirt, ragged jean shorts and a stuffed pair of Doc Martins.

At this point we figured all we could do is prepare for the worst and hope for the best as we were destined to get royally fucked with and likely over by this deep south son of a bitch pig. The cop after pausing an exorbitantly long pause (also designed to instill unease in citizens by the cocksucking cops.) rolled down his window and asked us strait away if we were coming from the local collage kegger party to which we responded that no we hadn’t been at the party as we were out of staters just stopping off to get some gas before moving along. Once again there was a longer then normal drawn out pause on the crappy cops end. After his 2nd planned pause the cop said something we had never anticipated so much it almost turned our brains into shit with utter surprise and awe. What follows is almost verbatim but time has worn my memories so its not quite a direct quote.

Cop: “Have you all coming from the kegler down at the college?”

Us: “No just getting some gas and heading out back on the road and not aware of this or any kegler.”

Cop: “Well then, I’ll tell you how you can get there….”

The cop went on to give us complete details and directions to the party before telling us rather cheerfully to be safe, take it easy and safe travels before rolling up his window and slowly driving off into the shadowy vail of night. As soon as he was out of sight we jumped in our car and drove like a motherfucker as far away from there as we could get.

Nice not to get arrested for once, not to mention a cop has never given me directions to a college kegler or any party for that matter. Luck be a lady tonight.