Observational Humor – Page 3

So The Other Night Like An Asshole………

So the Other Night I My Wife and I went out to Dinner with a Couple of Friends and Associates. We ended up in the City at some Upscale sort of Trendy place named after a fucking Flower. It wasn’t a Michelin Star restaurant Owned by some Pretentious fucking Chef, but it Definitely did have that air of a Fine Dinning Restaurant to it.

The Food was Fine nothing Spectacular, Yet quite Tasty indeed. When the Check came I decided on a Whim like an asshole to Pick Up he Check. Without looking at the Bill I went for My Wallet, and extracted a Credit Card thus crossing the Point of No Return, That’s due to the fact that Everyone at that point had seen Me go for the Check and All so now at this point They all assumed (as would have I) that I was paying the Bill Period End of Story.

I finally after backing Myself into a Financial Corner I looked at the Check to see the Total which was around $400 including Tip (and to be fare there was a GREAT Deal of Drinking Involved as Many a Cocktail met Their demise thanks to Our Throats), and immediately had what the professionals would refer to as “Buyers Remorse”. Well aware I had stuck Myself with the fucking Check, and took a minute to Compose Myself.

I called the fucking Waiter over and He came bounding over like a Peppy Cheerleader fucked a Gazelle, and Our Server was the Bastard Offspring of an Inter-special Fuckfest. As I tried not to fucking go blind thanks to Our Servers insanely White Shirt that there was in fact a Problem with Our Bill. He pleasantly asked what the Problem a tad Condescendingly. That was NOT a Smart thing To Do.

I decide right then and there that I have fucking had it, and the last fucking thing I need is some Pretentious Shit Stain of a Server working at a Pompous and Over Rated Restaurant giving Me a fucking Attitude. I then told Him I believe the Mistake was that He didn’t bring out Our Entrees to Suck Us Off delivering The World’s Finest Blow Jobs.

I then informed Him that if He was going to fuck Me He could at least have the fucking common goddamn decency to bring a Tube of Lube to the Table along with the motherfucking Check. I let Him know that if I was aware of what the Bill might have been I would have had a lot More to fucking Drink to Soften the fucking Blow thats for fucking sure.

ALSO considering a Chunk of the rather Hefty Bill belonged to the Server via His Tip I then suggested perhaps in fact He should Blow All of Us or at Least a Round of Hand Jobs because after this fucking Fiasco We could all use a fucking Happy Ending.

Just had to get that Out of My Head.

Thank for Reading,

By Les Sober

Not Totally Off The Record

Well it’s been a Year and a fucking Half and,I still have a few Medical Bills I have to get sorted out which is No Big Deal really it just takes some time. As I said before TIME TAKES TIME.

So Monday Night I went to My Local Bar to meet up with My Brother, SpaceDog, and some Mutual Friends for a couple of Drinks. Once We all had arrived We ordered a Couple of Pitchers of Beer and started to Shoot the Shit and Blow off some Steam.

Unbeknownst to Me My Brother had made up His mind to Record Me (Using His fucking Cell Phone at that) when He thinks I’m saying something with Some Sort of fucking Value. What that May or May Not be is left up to His discretion.

I can’t be Mad about it in the Least. I constantly tell Myself I should utilize Voice Memos on My Phone to Record ideas as I go on through out My Day. I’m not always near My Laptop (I’m not one of those Assclowns that walk around all fucking Day with Their Laptop tucked under tTheir Arm or in some shitty bag slung over Their shitty shoulder.).

Also there is NEVER a fucking Pen and Paper when You Need it, but thats alright I end up writing shit down on whatever is handy and then promptly loose Them. Cell Phones aren’t always Sufficient and can be Temperamental twats.

So really He’s doing it on My Behalf. This is a Excerpt from what He recorded That Evening. NOTHING has been Added, Deleted, or Embellished. I like this recording because it showcases both sides of My Personality. On one Hand You have the Decent Guy with a Big Heart. On the Other Hand there’s the Sarcastic, Pessimistic, Shit Talking, Opinionated, Rude, Brutally Honest, Anti-Authority, and Offensive Foul Mouthed Asshole.

“You, I feel bad ok there two Schools of Thought. You feel bad because I’m not a complete asshole so I feel bad for the Debt Collector because I am aware of what Their day is like dealing with People like Me when I’m acting like Me.

So thats why like I get really fucking indignant when I don’t duck Your phone calls, I’m not procrastinating, I’m not bullshiting, I’m not wasting your time in fact I’m calling you so all I’m saying is I expect you to be cooler because I’m basically walking up to You and going Hey here’s a free present. I’m not going to yell and curse at you. I’m actually calling you because I want to find out how I can pay the bill or a payment method to do so.

What more can a fucking Creditor want?! I mean fucking seriously, fucking seriously. It should should be Their wet Dream. Even this Lady today was great towards the end and shit We were joking these People do have a sense of humor. They really fucking do. They will admit what Their job is asking of You absolutely fucking ridiculous because They Themselves could not fucking do it, and They work for these people.

It was all good like I was confused, but that’s from talking to the other people so a that point I had a limited capacity. Um… I was kind of thinking about what My Wife was saying. Admittedly there is some diminished mental capacity at that point, so that’s all I’m going to say thats My only statement. Um… but like right after We got to joking and like everything was under control as far as I’m fucking concerned things were going great at that point.

I’m like I’m exhausted, I barely know what the fuck is going on, but I got this Lady laughing I haven’t told Her to go fuck her own face this is going great. And yes I understand there is another second bill…Oh Shit.

+At this point I was unaware of where I was waving My hands and knocked over My Freshly made Rum & Coke+

That’s a dead solider right there, but My point is I dressed that with Her so not only have We taken care of 1 account plus what I had already paid the Doctor’s office before I called Her, and We addressed the 3rd account so we should be fine. Like I said everything is going great. I told Her I had to talk to a particular person to acquire the cash to pay off the 3rd account in full in just one singular fucking payment. Pretty goddamn reasonable if you ask Me for someone who’s being contacted by a fucking Collection Agency.

And like I said I realize it’s Her job dude but it’s the quickest way to get Me to FUCKING HATE YOU. It’s like all bets are off I was playing nice, and self justification that if They aren’t playing nice then I DON’T HAVE TO PLAY NICE. This happened when She jumped Me like an parasitic asshole and was like “Oh Well When will You be Talking to That Person? Do you know how much money you can get from this person? Can you get all of the Money from this person? When do you think you can get some money from that person? When can you get all of the money from that person?

So I’m like OH YOU CAN SUCK MY DICK because thats just fucking ridiculous. I just fucking did your job and made your day a whole lot easier by one phone call You can go tell Your Boss You settled an account, They paid this initially today, We got a split payment plan for the rest, and I told Him about the 2nd outstanding account He told Me Blah Blah Blah He’s going to make some calls or whatever.

I’m sorry but as far as I’m concerned thats a fucking Win-Win for fucking both of Us. So I just like I know it’s part of Her job, but like You still as a person She has free will so She didn’t actually have to say that.

And if someone had come to Her and been like “Margret You Didn’t ask THE QUESTIONS?!” or whatever the fuck Her name was She could have been like “HEY in all due favor LOOK Payment, Set Up Payment, and addressed payment So You can’t really be mad at Me.” because basically She did her job Great. I got money, I set up getting more money, and Addressed the 3rd Money What do You want from Me so what if I went off script or some shit?!

It wouldn’t mean shit to anybody as long as She collected some fucking cash or a Commitment (AKA a Payment Plan) for Payment because lets face it thats all They give a flying fuck about is the Money. So She literally in all actuality even though I am saying it’s Her job I’m making excuses for Her because I don’t think She had to do that. Why become an asshole at the end of a successful phone call?! What fucking purpose could that serve?!

When She did that there was a feeling like Oh Ok now You’re going to slap Me in the fucking face? We just went thorough all this bullshit, We came to a resolution, We’re all Happy and We’re going to shake hands and instead of shaking My hand You’re going to just slap Me in the Face. And then start drilling Me like some insane interrogation Which by the way I’d have to be fucking Psychic to have any sort of answer about future fucking payment.

I have no idea when or where I will speak with someone it’s not fucking like “Oh sure I’ll be having Lunch with them in 3 weeks on the 24th at 12:33pm at The Greasy Spoon Diner. I will have a Cheese burger and They will have the Soup of the fucking Day. They will be impeccably dressed as usual. GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK YOU UNREALISTIC ASSHOLE(S).!”

That is were that particular recording was abruptly ended by My Brother.

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

2010s Death March

Just thought I would compile a list of all the things that have died in the past 10 years or so.

Well not all everything. Things die innumerably every second whether a person, animal, physical thing, or idea.

These a few of the more obscure.

1) deadoraliveinfo.com- possibly dead. HOW THE FUCK am i gonna know who I am about to outlive now?

2) tumblr porn- for those amphetamine fueled nights where the other 50,000 porn sites didn’t quite cut it.

3) aol IM- the last time i was on here was 8 years ago. All i remember is some black guy from the city randomly Im’d me. I used to yell at him. A lot.

4) AOL chatrooms-

These may still exist within the void of folks still using dialup. This group contains a few personal thins.

Goodbye free passwords.

Goodbye Trisha from Wyoming.

Goodbye Trishas lover

Goodbye free money.

Goodbye AOL sugar daddy.

GOODBYE my johns.

Goodbye my puddlediver.

Goodbye free religious propaganda.

Bye pencil dicks.

Goodbye you’ve got mail.

5) Goodbye Leonard Cohen, the only person i was drunk the whole time from death to funeral thanks to #6.

6) Bye Trump.

7) Bye light cigarettes. And fuck off colored cigarettes.

8) Goodbye me having to imagine obscure celebs shirtless. Holla instagram!!

9) Goodbye Sonic Boom- no one over 21 should be trying random underknown drugs. I could say no one should but teenagers don’t listen.

10) Goodbye vomiting red wine 20 feet from Sonic Boom.

11) Goodbye my insane neighbor and her banshee family.

12) Goodbye giant bags of gum

13) Later Blockbuster

14) Goodbye my 30 inch waist.

15) Goodbye fake facebook friends.

16) Goodbye being spared from 90s action movie stars. They seem to have formed a union where i must see one every week.

17) Goodbye and fuck you hurricane sandy.

Related-

goodbye some of my dishes

Goodbye my lamp

goodbye wendys coffee. Don’t do it. You’d be better off trying Krokodil.

goodbye me being a tool

18)

Goodbye light cigarettes. Thanks for confusing me and every cashier nationwide.

19) Bye Lena Dunham. Seeing your vagina every week was the final cement in me being gay.

20) Goodbye Blockbuster.

21) Goodbye apps that paid me 5 dollars for watching 5 minutes of videos.

22) Goodbye couch guy. I’m never adopting a couch guy again no matter his cuteness or penis. You shouldn’t either.

23) Goodbye shitty seedy cheap weed. How i dont miss my ounce of weed being a quarter ounce seeds.

24) goodbye procrastination. This blog has been in drafts for 4 months.

25) goodbye whatever else i missed.

Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watcher (31/365)

” There nothing I like better right now than a Cold Beer.” Said Lee emphatically with His eyes still Locked on The Fatal Four Way Refund Death Match still going Strong in front of Them.

“I know a place Near by. It’s My Actual Neighborhood Bar believe it or Not. Low Lights, Cold Beer, No $15 Cocktails, No Flare, No Pretentious Mixologists, No Dj, and No Trendy goddamn Hipster Half Wits. People at The Boozehound are content to leave one another in Peace. Respect the Institution of Bars.” said Dizzy almost growing giddy a the Thought, “It’s called the Boozehound and it’s a True American Classic Dive Bar.”

“Dive Bar you say?” responded Lee His Apprehension being quite evident.

“What? You got a fucking Problem with Dive Bars, I mean what are You one of those Commercial Sheep? One Those Applebee’s Assholes or What?!” demanded Dizzy defensively.

“No Offense its nothing fucking Personal in the least. It’s just that sometimes People get confused on the exact Definition of a Dive Bar. What you described is the Ideal Dive Bar Scenario and I’m liking it again don’t get Me wrong. Some People mistake a Shitty Hellhole of a Bar as What a Dive Bar is or should. When in Actuality its nothing like the fucking stupid Stereotype as Stereotypes go,” explained Lee plainly, “Dive Bars don’t Stink of Stale Beer or Urine, They don’t smell like fucking Vomit either. They’re not dirty, scummy, disgustingly unhygienic, The Bathrooms aren’t total shitholes that make Gas Station Restrooms look like the Fucking Four Seasons. You walk into a place like that its just a Shit Bar it’s No Dive Bar by Definition thats for sure.”

“Oh shit Ok I see what You’re saying. No I assure I’m not an Ignorant asshole or anything. Its a straight up by the Book Dive Bar.” said Dizzy with renewed Confidence.

With that the Two New Acquaintances departed the Theater leaving the Refund Turmoil behind. They walked several blocks through a nice Working Class Neighborhood until They Reached the Boozehound located on the Street Corner. Dizzy threw open the Door and strode in like He owned the fucking joint with Lee in tow.

Lee looked around the Bar assessing the Layout. To the left was the actual Bar that stretched almost the entire way down the wall, and a Row of High Backed Booths lining the wall to the right. The Restrooms were located all the way at the back of the Bar next to an Antique Wurlitzer Jukebox, and one of the World’s Last Pay Phones.

Dizzy and Lee posted up at the Far end of the Bar because Dizzy apparently had some fucking Mobster Complex. He said He always has to have His back to a Wall, and Where He could See the whole Bar but more importantly the Front Door. Lee wondered if Dizzy had a good reason to be Paranoid or if it was simply a Personal choice.

“See the Middle Aged Guy sitting in the Last Booth?” ask Dizzy in a hushed Tone.

“Yeah I saw Him when We came,” answered Lee, “Why what’s His deal?”

“Its one of those No One really knows. We Call Him Vladdy He first came to The Boozehound in the Winter of 1980, and been showing up every single day since. Vladdy keeps solo to Himself and He doesn’t say shit. Not that it matter though since Vladdy doesn’t speak a fucking lick of English and No One round here Speaks a lick of Russian, but Somehow Vladdy and the Bartenders have found some sort of way to Communicate even if it’s in a very Simplistic manner.” Replied Dizzy sparking up a Joint and continuing, “Oh it’s fine if I Smoke a little Weed in here I know the Owner. Anyway every morning when the Owner comes to Open Up Vladdy is already here and waiting on the Stoop. Everyday it’s the exactly same fucking routine. Owner Opens up, Vladdy takes His spot at the Last Booth along the Wall. After Vladdy takes a seat The Bartender brings Vladdy a Jar of Kosher Dill Pickles, a Shot Glass, and an entire unopened Bottle of this Insane Russian Vodka. I think I heard His Family actually makes the shit and ships it Stateside for Him or some crazy shit like that. It’s Vladdy so who knows.”

Dizzy paused for a minute to get the attention of the preoccupied Bartender who was standing with His back t the Bar intently scrutinizing the Football game that was on the Bar’s only TV. When Dizzy got the Bartenders attention He ordered Them a couple of Ice Cold DraftBeers along with a couple of Shots of Maker’s Mark before returning to the conversation.

“Well Vladdy spends the Day sitting in His Booth Taking Shots and Eating a few Bites of Pickle in-between until The Vodka Bottle is Empty. The Vladdy gets up and Leaves for where who the hell knows most likely its Home I’d suppose. And then it starts all over agin the next Morning kind of like an Alcoholic Version of that Bill Murray Movie fucking Groundhog Day and shit.” said Dizzy right before slamming a shot and a Beer, and then ordering another round.

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

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (32/365)

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober.

Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watcher (28/365)

The Lights went out again as the Shell Shocked Performer was escorted off to seek Medical Attention no doubt, and for the Second Time the Poor Janitor had to come clean more Bodily Fluids off of the Stage in the Dark. During this Emergency Intermission Lee hear the stumbling sounds of yet more Members of the Audience had had Enough, and Stormed off to more than likely Demand a Refund.

By the time the Spot Light once again Illuminated the Tiny Theater Lee was extremely fucking happy that this was the Final fucking Act. For the Final Act an Obese Man who had to be pushing 400 and standing an unimpressive 5′ 2″ on a Good Day. He was wearing one of those humiliating Hospital Gowns with the fucking Ties in the back to keep the fucker closed.

Lee understood and could Fully Appreciate the Medical Reasons for Their Design, but still Lee considered Them to be more Insult to Injury than Medically Necessary. It was Indisputable that it was vital to the Patients well being to be Dressed in this mockery of a Gown as They call it in the Medical Community. Lee damn well knew it was so the Doctors can Grab whatever Part of You that They need Access to (for Poking, Pounding, Prodding, Probing, or Puncturing) as Fast as Possible since in Medicine Time IS a Deciding Factor.

For Lee there were 3 questions about Hospital Gowns that had always lingered in Lee’s Mind. One was Why the hell couldn’t the fucking Material be made of something thicker or more substantial that the feeble glorified Toilet Paper?! The Doctors/Nurses aren’t ever going to fucking inject you Through the Gown regardless since doing so would contaminate the Needle.

Second Why the hell did the Ties have to be located at the fucking back which lets fucking face it is the most inconvenient spot to try and Tie so fucking thing. Why couldn’t the Ties be in Front or at least located on the Side anything would be better than on the fucking Back.

Three why the hell especially if They’re made out of Thin, Cheap, and Flimsy Material why the fuck does it have to be White AKA Almost fucking see through?! What the fuck do moronic Designs or what have You do, They don’t conceal shit very well if thats Their fucking Point.

Lee’s Fourth Question was why the hell couldn’t the Medical Gowns be fucking Longer. This thought always made Lee chuckle since there were so many Catholic High School Girls continuing the Ongoing Battle for Their Uniform Dresses being Shorter. Lee’s point was if shit goes down and the Doctors rush in to do Immediately Necessary Medical shit, and first would Open up the Gown. And since basically at that point They Medical Personnel have access to Your Fully Naked Body so why couldn’t They just be longer?! They weren’t fucking Cocktail Dresses for fuck’s sake.

Lee shook himself to Dispel the Daydream He was Diving into about Medical Gown Questions and Improvements. Once Lee’s faculties had righted themselves Lee saw That the Man in the Medical Gown had indeed unfastened the back of the gown, and it was now flying open. The Man had bent over at the waist and placed His hands on His Knees.

He then reached down to pick up a Small Lime Green Notebook that was laying in front of Him, and started to read aloud. It turned out He was reading Excerpts from “The Vagina Monologues” intermingled with Lyrical excerpts from various Songs by 2 Live Crew. The Man was reading the add mix of Literature and Lyrics with the Great Enthusiasm and An Unbridled Passion.

Lee looked around the Theater to see how many Audience members there in Fact were still remaining. Lee quickly counted 3 including Himself , but the Absence of a Viable Audience didn’t deter The Large Man on Stage in the least. The Man on Stage ended up reading for 45 minutes before standing upright, Closing the Note Book, and Staring strait into the Black Void of the Almost Empty Theater.

After 30 seconds or so the Man Lifted cast off His Hospital Gown, and Hoisted up His Belly to reveal a Monster Cock that was as thick as it was Long. He then lifted His Massive Member showing the Audience He was in Fact a Legit Eunuch, and where His Scrotum had been was a Intricately Detailed and quite Life like Tattoo of a Vagina. “I am The Recycled Sex a Homemade Hermaphrodite.” the Man proclaimed before walking off the Stage.

Lee now fully believed that Performance Art’s reputation for Weird Beyond the Fringe on The Fringe shit was Well Warranted, and that the Show He had just watched was all the Proof He needed. Accept for the Theremin Player Lee thought that Guy was fucking Awesome.

Stay Tuned Kiddies for Tomorrows Nail biting Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (29/365)

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

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

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

By Far The Worst Strip Club I Have Ever Been To.

Now just to get it out of the way if after Reading this Post You honestly want the Address to this Surreally Shitty Strip Club (as it like to call itself) all You have to do is send Us an Email Requesting it. Ask and You shall Receive.

Back in My early 20’s I was Living in some shitty Section 8 Housing Apartment Complex with a Buddy of Mine I had met while in Rehab. He went by the nickname Kujo. He spelt Cujo with a K to be original. Here’s a fucking idea if You want to be original don’t pick the name of a Legendary Horror Character asshole.

Neither of Us had jobs and We spent Our days killing time fucking around aimlessly. We were basically broke most of the fucking time since We were self-Unemployed, and if We got hold of a couple Extra Bucks We pissed it away Parting.

It was one of those rare times when We were rather flush from having worked a couple of Day Jobs for some Day Labor Company, and had racked up some spending cash. We were sitting around shooting the shit trying to come up with some dumb shit to do. Finally Kujo volunteered We could go to The Strip Club. I had no fucking idea where the fuck there could be a Strip Club Our are area I sure as fuck didn’t know of one. So out of a mix of intense Boredom and Curiosity I said sure why the fuck not.

We got in My car and headed out to whatever Strip Club Kujo had been babbling about. We drove for about 15 minutes into the City Suburbs when all of a sudden Kujo told Me to park when I saw a spot on the Street. I though what the fuck are We stopping Here for? The I assumed Kujo was picking up some coke or some other Party Favor. I Pulled up to the curb and parked outside of what appeared to be a Block of Retail Stores that had closed hours ago.

I parked the car, got out, locked it, and proceeded to follow Kujo who had already started walking off down the Sidewalk. I kept waiting for Him to say some shit like “We’re going to see My Guy so be cool” or “I’m going to see mY Guy to pick up some Colombian Marching Powder so wait here a minute”, BUT Kujo walked instead of in total silence. Then out of no where Kujo stopped, took the last couple of drags off His Cigaret, and opened some fucking random nondescript Door. It honestly looked like a Door that would lead up to a Residence where someone was Living.

When I stepped through the exterior Door I found Myself walking directly behind Kujo since the Hallway We were walking down was so fucking narrow it felt like I had boarded a fucking Submarine instead of entering a fucking Building. The walls were painted this disgusting very light Yellow Pastel so for all I knew We had entered a fucking Elementary School or some shit.

Once We reached the End of this bizarre Hallway there was a Cashier’s Window the type you’d find at an Older Movie Theater. Behind the Glass sat this Older hefty Gentlemen where a light blue button down shirt that was 2 sizes too small for His Stature. He also was suffering from a bad case of Male Pattern Baldness. The most notable thing about the sunken eyed pale skinned Cashier was He seemed to be coated in a thin film of sweat from Head to Toe. We paid the bullshit $10 per Person Cover Charge, and then We turned to the Left where Kujo opened yet another Generic Plain Looking Steel Door.

We entered what immediately reminded Me of someone’s fucking basement that They had attempted to convert into a legit Strip Club, and failed fucking miserably. The entire “Club” was approximately 400-450 square feet in total. I suppose that the fucking Horrible Pastel Easter Yellow Paint must have been on Sale because the entire Room was Painted with it. The Walls, The fucking Ceiling, The Extremely Basic Desk like sitting area’s, and the Inside of the goddamn Door it was almost made You feel Physically fucking Ill.

I couldn’t help but notice that this so called Basement Strip Club was lacking ALL the essentials that a Good Strip Club has. There was No Bouncer, No Sound System, No Bar, Not one single Stripper Pole, No Lighting System, No DJ, and No VIP Room. This “Club” was a tiny fucking Windowless Room painted in a Make- Me -Wanna- Vomit -Yellow, with Florescent Ceiling Lights, and that was almost completely Empty.

I was informed by Kujo that because this “Club” was ALL NUDE They didn’t Serve Alcohol, BUT You could Bring You Own which made No Sense to Me. They didn’t want to serve Alcohol to Their Customers, Yet They could Just BYOB it thus negating this weird sort of Alcohol Law. We had neglected to bring any Beer with Us which didn’t exactly help this shitty situation.

We slowly made Our way to the other side of the Room and sat down on a fucking Steel Folding Chair (how fucking much of a cheap ass did the Owner have to be that He/She wouldn’t even spring for decent fucking Chairs?!) behind what looked like to Me as if a Office Desk and a Table had a fucking Kid, I assume They were Homemade especially for this Strip Club Shithole.

The Stage was just a Large fucking Block about 4 Feet high, 4 Feet Wide, and 10 feet long at the most, and Yes it was painted that Hideous fucking Yellow like everything Else. The Talent were NO WHERE CLOSE TO BEING ACTUAL STRIPPERS. The Girls lackadaisically mousied through a Doorway that was covered with a Black Sheet, NOT A CURTIN some asshole just tacked up a Bed Sheet, and called it a Day.

The Girls were already completely Nude when the strode out onto the Floor. They would then ascend to the whack ass excuse for a fucking stage, and pace around in a fucking circle and that was it. There’d be 6-7 Girls lingering onstage again pacing in a circle like a bored Zoo Animal in its Enclosure. They didn’t interact with the handful of Scummy looking Customers (Myself included not going to lie), They never Waved, Made Eye Contact, Talk to, Smiled at, or even fucking acknowledged They or We were even fucking there. The Talent seemed utterly oblivious to Their surroundings.

Every couple of minutes or so one of the Girls would be swapped out for a New one like a fucking Conveyer Belt of ass. After about half an hour I turned to Kujo and told Him as far as I was Concerned all this place was was a waste of $20, and that I was leaving to go look for the nearest Neighborhood Bar. Kujo begrudgingly agreed, and Our short Visit to this Clusterfuck of a Crappy “Strip” Club had finally come to an end.

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

3 Man Made Failures: Organized Religion, Politics, & Money

I’ve been told countless times that I’m a seriously Intense Person to Deal with or Even be around sometimes. I’m told is completely Draining. While I have been well aware (or accepted might be a better word oh well fuck it) of this for Several Years, BUT yesterday I found out Additional Information that I had NOT been privy to Previously.

Apparently even if I’m on Your Side fighting on Your behalf in a Debate, Argument, Or Conflict EVEN THEN it can still be Difficult to Deal with. That I suppose is because it can be extremely Uncomfortable to watch Anyone (for whatever Reason) utterly Tear into Another Human Being with total Abandon.

So this time Around I’m going to adapt a much more Zen like approach to this Post while leaving the Ranting, Raving, and Railing on the Back Burner for this One.

Now one of the BEST pieces of advice I ever received was NEVER talk about Politics or Religion with Anyone. I added Money as it Needs to be Included in this List of Human Social Failures as Money can Rile People up, and Cause as many Problems as Organized Religion or Politics.

Let’s start with Organized Religion shall We. which is also referred to as Institutional Religion. I’m from the Spirituality School of Thought. What I mean by this is I am Religious Person, but I am most definitely a Spiritual Person. Spirituality differs from Organized Religion in that Spirituality focuses on the Individual (example: Meditation or Spending Time Communing with Nature) as opposed to Converting Society as a Whole.

Now some People could argue that Religion like Spirituality has a element focusing on its Followers Self Betterment, BUT at the same time Organized Religion’s focus on the Big Picture. That is while it does allow a Follower Self Reflection and Self Improvement it dictates that EVER FOLLOWER Should conduct Themselves in the identical Way.

Organized Religion on the Other hand is a STRUCTURED System of Worship (Especially by or in LARGE NUMBER OF PEOPLE) which unlike Spirituality has DEFINED BELIEFS, RITUALS, and GUIDELINES that are Systematically Arranged and Formerly Established.

These Defied Beliefs, Rituals, and Guidelines feed the “My God is Better than Your God” which has led to such Atrocities like The Spanish Inquisition, The Crusades (Crusades are NOT LIMITED to Christianity Only) , and all Other types of Religious Persecution including Torture and Murder in the Name of a Certain God. It also creates unnecessary infighting pitting Follower against His/Her Fellow Follower with the Negative Attitude of “I’m more Devout than the Other Follower’s”.

I believe if You do choose to Follow a “Organized” Religion, and it works for You helping make You a more Positive, Productive, and Happy so be it. I’m for whatever works as long as it isn’t Hurting OR Harassing Anyone Else. What Anyone else believes is THEIR BUSINESS not Mine. I don’t understand when “Being Organized” turned the Religions of the World into a fucking competition over Who’s right and Who’s wrong when it comes to a God.

I mean NO ONE KNOWS if there is a Singular God or Possible Several Gods working together (like The Ancient Greeks believed) or Perhaps all the various Religions Gods/Deities work along side on another without Conflict of Religious Interest. The only People who know what lies beyond the Death are all DEAD, and Dead Men Tell NO Tales. Still without a shred of actual evidence People will still attack Others over Their different Religious Beliefs?!

Also Why do Organized Religions focus so much on Converting Others and Force Feeding Members of Society Their Particular Indoctrination?! Why is it that People can’t Worship as They Will in Private Free of Judgement, Condemnation, Demonization, Prejudice, Persecution, or Conflict from Other Religions or Their Followers?! Why do Men constantly and Bastardize the Religious Texts (I.E. Bible, Karon) for Their Personal Agendas, and why do People try time and time again to Weaponize Religious Texts to serve Their Personal Desires?!

Thats Why I favor Spirituality because it’s Me, About Me, and For My Well Being. With Organized Religion there are just Too Many motherfucking Priests in the Pulpit. More is NOT always Merrier in fact it can be Murder.

Enough about That lets move on to Money. Just the mere mention of Money is enough to put People on the Edge of Their Seat were They sit Perched Anxiously waiting for Whatever may come Next.. First off Yes People need Money to Live in Today’s Society, BUT after paying for Food, Healthcare, Clothing, and Lodging everything else is just Greed, Ego, Envy, and Social Status Bullshit. You need to Eat to fucking Live what you don’t NEED a 90″ LCD TV to Live You just WANT IT.

I fucking hate when assholes confuse Want with actual Need. You Need to Breathe You don’t need a fucking McMansion to survive Happily. Commercialization has consumed Society into trusting the Illusion that if You don’t Buy/Own all kinds of shit then it Sucks to Be You. Thats fucking Insane.

People were Happy and Productive for THOUSANDS OF YEARS without all this Tech Shit, Without the Internet, Social Media, Smart Phones, Smart TV’s, DVR’s, Streaming Services, Tablets/Ipads, Texting, Podcasts, and Uber weren’t EVEN AN ABSTRACT THOUGHT.

I think the Invention of a Monetary System was Doomed from the Beginning as Human Nature twists Everything Humanity comes across. I believe We should reinstate a Barter Economy where Goods and Services are Traded without a need for Monetary Compensation.

A Barter Economy Eliminates all of the vast Myriad of Issues Money Causes People as well as Society. Remember some cliches are cliches because They’re True, and “Money is The Root of All Evil.” is a perfect example of this. Also with a Barter Economy People are required to Learn actual Real Life Skills (ie Hunting, Fishing, Trapping) or Trades (such as Blacksmith or Mechanic) to Barter with.

Alright Money be Damned Lets move on to Our last Topic Politics. Politics is a NO WIN situation. The Government was meant to be FOR THE PEOPLE BY THE PEOPLE which is no longer the case in Todays Political Climate. Politicians have been thoroughly corrupted by Personal Greed and the Appeal of Increased Power.

The real Point is debating.Talking/Arguing Politics with Others is ABSOLUTELY FUTILE. No One is going to convince Anyone Else that They are Wrong or Changed Their Political Allegiance in the end. Politics should be a PRIVATE and PERSONAL CHOICE it shouldn’t be a Talking Point of any fucking Kind.

The Only viable Government is a Stripped Down, Bare Bones, Back to Basics minimalistic Government to avoid all the issue with MONEY (which We Just Discussed) and Thirst for Fame along with More Personal Power over Others and Issues. Politics is EGO DRIVEN just like People with Their Sports Teams where it becomes less and less about the ACTUAL SPORT/GAME and More and More WE ARE THE BEST & ALL OTHERS ARE SHIT SO FUCK THEM.

I’ll wrap it up with this Quote by GEORGE WASHINGTON Himself:

“A Two Party Political System will be the DEATH OF AMERICA.”

Thanks for Reading,

Les Sober

A whine, a whine, and cake

This month has been incredibly hard for me. With my new found dedication to my mind, body, and spirit which includes sobriety, health, and meditation has come a lot of new found pitfalls. Not really new just that I thought quitting smoking would come very easy to me like quitting drugs or quitting drinking, but those did not come on the first try so why should this have.

It has kept me from writing as much I would have liked. But changes need to be imminent, otherwise change will never occur.

That being said. I started writing this yesterday however I needed a bit of a kick in the ass, a nice taste of stupid people, and a little bit of eye candy.

Unfortunately all I saw at the gym were five foot tall power lifting gym rat muscle heads. I’m pretty sure one stood at maybe 4’4″. I always find it cute with double numbers, just not with those two. I guess if I liked women I would like 44 better. I mean Pam Anderson does have a nice rack.

Ugh so all these people that think they can drive the speed limit or better in the snow are amusing. It’s not that bad out yet, maybe two or three inches and people drive like they are God. I am waiting for someone to crash into the median in front of me at some point. It would be pretty funny unless an airbag went off or glass broke. Most silly accidents like that are relatively funny.

OK I’ll stop being sick in the head. The funniest thing about the snow is there is always someone on TV shoveling it way, way, way too early. In this case about 15 hours too early. And he looked 70. I wish there was a way to broadcast to all elderly people when they are cutting up.

Or anyone really. Like sometimes my conscious mind seems to take a trip to a far away galaxy. There should be a chip in my head. Bad Spacedog, Bad Spacedog!!!! And transport me to some shackles.

That all being said…..I am not in the mood to bitch a whole lot more.

I am in the mood for cake. An entire cake…. decadent, lascivious, homemade, mouthwatering.

Men are like cake.
If I could I would eat cake everyday.
For every meal.
Then I would waddle eventually.
Overly indulged I would not want cake ever again.

Men are like that. You have too many, you will end up waddling or walking with a certain slant or strange visitors in your nooks and crannies.

Yet there are so many kinds of cake. It’s easy to find any old piece of cake. A vanilla with vanilla frosting or a chocolate cake. Minors are kind of like cupcakes. When you are a little cupcake, they are nice and tasty and big cakes are rather frightening or daunting or cumbersome. Hopefully we grow out of cupcakes.

Sometimes I still feel like a cupcake or I feel like eating one but I like a biT more satisfaction. And besides cupcakes don’t come in as many flavors.

And my favorite cake. I’m not really sure. My favorite cakes changes from year to year to year. Right now it probably would be Black Forest. But if I went around looking for a man that was black forest I would probably find something similar but not the same. Like a chocolate cheesecake covered in cherries.

But it’s easy to find cheesecake too. In fact most of the men in this world are cheesecakes. You can top them with strawberries, cherries, blueberries but guess what? They are still cheesecake underneath it all. Maybe if I liked cheesecake I would have been the type of person that has had a piece of cake under my grubby little fingers since I was 16 years old but I’ve never really been the biggest fan of cheesecake. It probably would be easier. But why just settle for the cheesecake?

I’d even take my second favorite cake, Triple Mousse. Then I find Triple Mousse and realize that cake is no longer what I want. I suddenly am allergic to chocolate. I suddenly am allergic to you. I ponder and I plot and I worry about what I am supposed to do. It would be nice if I could put a rain check on the Mousse or the Black Forest.

But then some days I want pie. And on those days I hide. I love lemon meringue and I love key lime, but the pie sometimes symbolizes what is wrong with life. It is so convenient and so easy, like the crack cocaine of sweets. Hostess and Tastycake and Drakes offer it for a dollar or less at times and it is so accessible. It calls right there and screams my name. It is easy to resist but hard like all other bad things can be at times.

So I sit here on this post snowy day wondering what exactly Christmas cookies are.

Then I wonder about Advent calendars. Why can’t their just be a man hiding behind the many days leading up to Christmas? That I can take with me and wake up under the Christmas tree and then just put him away a few days after New Years and forget about him and throw him in the crawl space until the following December.

I suppose some things will never be perfect in the world.

By SpaceDog