Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watcher (60/365)

The Bus Load of Passengers Panicked, Anxious, Traumatized, and some what Bloody were running amok in the Parking Lot as The Police and EMTS tried to make sense of the Increasingly Chaotic Situation. The Cops were running around trying to find out what the fuck happened and if They had due cause to Arrest Anyone. For Their part the EMTs were also running around in a Blind Frenzy Assessing Injuries and Dealing with the General Pandemonium created by the Freaked Out Cast of Characters from the Bus.

It was the Preverbal Three Ring Shit Show as Drama Reigned Supreme as all sense of Order had been Abandoned as the Strip Mall. Lee and Dizzy agreed that They didn’t feel the need to be around Cops since They both shared an Equal amount of Distain and Contempt for The Boys in Blue. Also Dizzy had stated that They had far better things to do with Their Time than Spending the Remainder of the Afternoon Sobering Up in the Police Station’s Drunk Tank. So in Onslaught of Insanity that Ensued from the Bus Fiasco Lee and Dizzy made an Easy Exit (as Fast as They Possibly Could without calling Attention to Themselves). They turned the first Corner They came to and then the Next before taking a short cut through the Park to avoid being seen on the Street. Once They exited the Park on the Opposite side They figured at that Point They had successfully  made Their Getaway Unnoticed.

              

“Well Thank God We managed to avoided getting trapped in all that Craziness with the Cops there and all,” said Lee being Honestly Relieved at Not Being Detained, “What the fuck are We going to do Now?!”

“I’ll tell you this We need to Hit up a Liquor Store ASAP since all that Bullshit with the Bus seriously Killed My Buzz.Nothing Sobers You Up like when the Police Show the fuck Up” replied Dizzy rather Irritated.

“If We keep walking We’ll come across a Corner Liquor Store in No Time especially when We are headed into a Poorer Neighborhood. Not a Slum or Ghetto Mind You, but a Economically Depressed Neighborhood.” said Lee as He figured remaining Practical was the Best Strategy as Dizzy was Obviously Agitated.

“Yeah You got that Right,” signed Dizzy growing Weary of the Day’s Ordeals, “I don’t know about YouI need a Sincerely Strong Drink and a Big one at That. I can’t stand People and All the Stupid shit They do and the Cops fuck Cops.”

                

It occurred to Lee just then at that Moment that He was growing Tired of Dizzy’s company more by the Minute. First Off Dizzy was extremely emotionally volatile Who Feelings could change Drastically on a Dime. One Minute He was Witty, Sarcastic, and Easy Going without a single care in the World. Then Suddenly and without warning in the Middle of a Laugh He could become Pissed and Aggressive or Down right Deeply Depressed. There didn’t seem to be any Rhyme or Reason behind the Sudden Trading off of Emotions. It wasn’t all Bad mind You as Dizzy’s Unpredictability and Unorthodoxly Outlandish Behavior is what made Him Appealing as You never knew what to expect Next. Dizzy definitely kept Other People on Their Toes, and it was the Emotional Intensity provided the Sitting on the edge of Your Seat Feeling You got every time You were with Him. Although at the Same Time the Unpredictability Factor was too Draining even if He was in a Good Mood the Whole Time You hung out You still felt Exhausted just being around someone who’s Intensity can be Overwhelming to the Senses.

Lee thought to Himself as They Duo lazy strolled down the Sparsely Littered Street. Lee mulled over His relationship with Dizzy, and after a good bit of Deliberation He came a Conclusion. Lee Concluded that He had to Distance Himself from Dizzy for a Long While if They were to remain Friends. The Trick was Dizzy in Small Doses that way You could circumvent the Unpleasant Side Effects of Dizzy’s Intensity. Lee wasn’t upset with Dizzy it just seemed that aside from His Overpowering Personality Dizzy seemed to be a Magnet for Madness. Eccentrics of all Sorts The Mentally Unbalanced, The Damaged, The Defective Misfits and Outcast Naturally gravitated to Dizzy a Perfect Example being the Bus Scenario. Lee wanted a Break and Needed to Rid Himself of Dizzy even if again only temporarily.

               

Lee decided to to Temporarily Tune Out the World and Observe the Various types of Graffiti Plastered across Store Fronts, Lining the Walls of the Allies, and in less Traditional and more Random Places (such a Mailboxes or Public Garbage Cans for Example). The Contrast between the Eclectic Mix of Street Art as Lee liked to Refer to it as since Graffiti had a Negative Stigma attached to it. There were Basic Artist Tags scrawled Hastily in Passing to Full Sized Murals that Encompassed an Entire Side of a Building. Lee chalked up the Variations to the Artists Time (How Much Time Did They Have to Paint Their Piece), and of Course the Raw Talent of the Particular Artist. Graffiti Artists tended to be Self Taught since the Academics Don’t Teach Graffiti in Art School. Lee’s Train of Thought was quickly Derailed by Dizzy’s Shitty Demeanor.

“Can I borrow a couple buck for a Bottle?” Asked Dizzy Demandingly

“Wha Yeah Sure thing.” Lee answered a little caught off guard since he had been Day dreaming at the time.

Dizzy snatched the wadded up Bills from Lee’s hand like a Wild animal snatching Food from a Person’s Hand. This irritated the living shit out of Lee as He felt Dizzy was being a major dick since Lee was the one doing Him the Favor. Dizzy Barged into the Liquor Store like a Bull in a fucking China Shop Flinging the Door Open to the Point to Strained on it Hinges emitting a Sickly Squeaking Sound. Dizzy sorted up and down the Small Row of Isles whipping His he’d Back in Forth which reminded Lee of a Shark in a Feeding Frenzy. At Last Dizzy grabbed a Bottle of Winkler’s Whisky off the Shelf aggressively as if He was taking back some Stolen Property of His.

              

Dizzy proceeded to then March determinately up to the Store Counter and plained the Bottle down with a thud indicating His currently Abominable Attitude. The Lanky Store Clerk grimaced at Dizzy with a look of Disgust, and made a snide comment about how Dizzy didn’t need to be banging Bottles on His Counter. Dizzy totally disregarded the Clerk and Threw down the Handful of Crinkled Cash Unceremoniously onto the Counter as if making a point to the Clerk that He could be as Disagreeable as He fucking damn well Pleased. The Clerk picked up the Money and Started to unfold it as He counted it out, and after seeing the Money was Sufficient grumbled something about Dizzy Not Hurrying Back anytime soon. Dizzy Exited the Liquor Store in the Same Fashion as HE had Entered in another subtle fuck you to the Clerk.

Stay Tuned for the Next Life Confirming Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (61/365)

Thanks For Reading,

  By Les Sober

Less Sober Begrudgingly On Less Sober

Ask and You shall receive they say well I hold more with the saying be careful for what you wish for because you might just get it. In this case in particular Your Gonna Get It Ladies and Gentlemen. I fully understand especially in the age of social media dominated by millennials that someone attracts the exact attention I don’t want. See the less you say about yourself now a days the more ravenous the curiosity of others grows and abounds. So for those who wanted to know so goddamn bad that they annoyed me to the edge of sanity this ones for you so with that said I don’t want to hear anymore personal questions about me from here out.

Here some facts in Bullet Note form:

Age: Old enough to be considered Ancient.

Looks: Like a Basic Human with 10 and 2 of everything required.

Right or Left Handed: Ambidextrous

Education: Street Smarts with a Collage Education.

Occupation/Vocation: Writer/Expert Cryptozoologist on Chupacabras.

Salary: I’m chronically broke, but I can pay my bills.

Social Status: Social Deviant

Marital Status: Married to my Wife

Ethnicity: Unknown due to the fact that if I were a dog breed I’d be a Ethnic Mutt.

Accent: Slight Southern Accent that slips in occasionally.

Tricks: Getting people to buy any absurdity based on Reasonable Doubt

Polotics: I agree with George Washington when he said “A Two Party System will DESTROY AMERICA.

Hobbies: Sharpening my knife collection or cleaning my guns while thinking about people I hate.

Addictions: Ex Junkie, Heavy Drinker, Fast Food, Death, Doom and Destruction, People Watching.

Pot Smoker: Yes daily

Social Media Used: Twitter and FaceBook only for Blog Promotion nothing else.

Obsessions: Sociology, Death Metal, Horror Movies, My Dogs & Snakes, Revenge, Under Dogs, Anything Anti Authority, The Occult, and more.

Beliefs: I do not believe in organized religion of any kind, I prefer Spirituality. I also fully endorse Karma.

Superstitions: Murphy’s Law, It’ll Get You Ever Time Without Fail.

Attitude (General): Stubborn, Aggressive, Impulsive, Opinionated, Demanding, High expectations of others and most of all self, Vengeful at times, Anger bordering Rage (Terrible Temper), Sceptic, Natural Born Pessimist, little to no Patience, open minded, Sarcastic, Trust Worthy, Loyal to a Fault, Witty, Entertaining, and Extreme Story Teller to name just a few.

Prejudices: I hate the Rich, The Police, The Government and any Institution of Authority such as the FCC. I hate millennials with a undying passion. I hate technology but use it as it becomes a necessity because the public integrates it into social life. I hate big pharmaceutical companies, Lobbyists, Politicians, The Legal System, Taxes, The Health Care System, Large Corporations, Bullies of any kind,  SUVs, Rules and most Laws. Think thats enough to list for now.

Ambitions: To make a comfortable living as a writer and to get this Weblog financially self sustaining. Becoming a Marijuana Millionaire in the Medical/Recreational Marijuana industry. (It be nice to get paid for what I know as opposed to be sent to prison for it.)

Medical History: I had Hep-C and was treated making a 100% recovery. I have never broken a bone, BUT I’ve had more stitches then I can count, and I had my Appendix removed TWICE (but thats another story all together)

Sex: I was born with a penis so obviously Male.

Fears: There will never be justice.

Pets: English Bulldog, French Bulldog, Miniature Dachshund (who is completely deaf and only has 1/2 her vision in her left eye) Ball Python, and a Colombian Rainbow Boa Constrictor. Also 3 evil ass cats.

Tattoos/Piercings: No Piercings, 6 Tattoos with plans for many more

Handwriting: Shitty, my handwriting makes Doctor’s handwriting look legible.

Friends: Small Handful of people I have met throughout my life. I generally dislike people and avoid them a great deal.

Personality Type: EXTREMELY Introverted

Favorite Movie: The Toxic Avenger

Favorite Singer: Chris Barns (formally of Cannibal Corpse now with 6 Feet Under)

Favorite Band: Currently for the last 3 years or so Ghost (also known as Ghost BC in America due to copyright laws)

Hometown: Cliche USA

Currently Living: In Parts Unknown to Man and Beast

Country of Origin: Antartica

Astrological Sign: Maximus

Personal Heros: Nicola Machiavelli, Nicola Tesla, Vlad the Impaler, Genghis Khan, Hunter S. Thompson, Lloyd Kaufman, George Remero, Les Claypool, Tobe Hooper, Eli Roth, Doug Benson, Sam Kinison, Samuel Jackson, G.G. Allin, Kevin Smith, Kevin Spacey, Ron Jeremy, Popcorn Sutton, Johny Cash, Tommy Chong, Scortese, Dr. Ray, Jerry Springer, Doyle, Merle Allin, Dave Brockie (aka Oderus Urungus), Mr. Lordi, Werner Herzog, Micheal Jordan, Cliff Burton, Clive Barker, Wes Craven, and thats plenty for this piece.

Favorite Color: Black (the absence of color)

Favorite Song: Bite It You Scum by G.G. Allin & The Murder Junkies

Siblings: Yes 1 younger brother Moore Sober

Instruments: Used to play Bass guitar, but gave it up along with my teenage dreams of being a rock star.

Height: The National Average for my demographic

Weight: Could stand to lose 3-5 pounds.

Sports: I do not play any sports and am anything but a sports fan.

High School: Ignorant High

Favorite book: Tie between “1984” and “Animal Farm”

Favorite Place: Inside my own head

 

 

Murder And Mayhem At Trump’s Insidious Impromptu News Conference Of Death & Damnation

Have you ever woken up in the morning and the first though you have is that you really want to pick a fight? I have many times and today I decided the person I was to pick a fight with would be the one and only Donald Trump. I ,along with the rest of the American people , have been bombarded by Donald Trump on television, printed interviews/articles in newspapers and magazines alike, Twitter, Youtube, and even radio. I must be clear I hate Donald Trump politically and personally as he is an extremely shitty person to begin with. Now why, or for what reason do I dislike Trump so highly?
Donald Trump looks quite similar to the past 44 presidents (excluding Obama obviously). He dresses in expensive high end suits worth thousands, predominately wears red or blue ties, is a 70 year old white man, and has a rather large belly. That is where the similarities end. Trump’s unique physical characteristic being found in his ungodly fake spray tan that leaves him looking like he has the worst case of jaundice in recorded history. The second primary physical characteristic is his hair which has remained a mystery for so long it can finally been called the 8th wonder of the world.
As for Donald Trump’s personality characteristics they are truly deplorable as he seems to have a Pandora’s box of bad behavior. Trump is a narcissist of Freudian proportions who’s extreme ego borders on megalomania. Also, for being completely ignorant of the American political system, Trump is over opinionated as well as ruthlessly aggressive on every front and every platform because his unquenchable thirst for power and control are unparalleled. For a president, Trump seems ignorant of the issues and takes every negative comment as a personal attack upon his character. Trump’s immature attitude has him tweeting like a tween and seems to cater to his child-like mentality that causes him to have terrible tantrums reminiscent of a 2 year old. Trump also is a sexist who’s views are almost on par with pedophilia. He is a closet racist and blatant anti semite. Trump is not only rude and insulting, but he always remains unapologetic as he points his finger at anyone but himself.
I just so happen to live in Florida and am located so geographically close to Trump’s Mar-a-Lago mansion that when I saw he was due for another visit I decided this was my chance. I drove to the Palm Beach Post newspaper headquarters down in West Palm Beach to meet up with a buddy of mine that works for the paper. He hooked me up with an official press pass and credentials which (unless you were in the know) made me look like a legitimate reporter. I then made my way to the Trump National Golf Club also located in Mar-a-Lago where Trump was due to throw an impromptu press conference. I strolled past the news truck barricade parked directly out front and past the handful of reporters shooting pre news conference pieces. I entered the club’s front door where a large security man who scowled at my press pass before ordering me through a metal detector. On the other side of the metal detector I was met by another rather large looking security man who gave me a pat down that was so intense it was more like a massage. I made my way into the conference room and managed to finagle my way into the 2nd row front and center where I waited for my prey to enter the room.
It didn’t take long before the rest of the press personnel were herded into the conference room like cattle. About a minute later Donald Trump entered from behind a curtain lazily wandering over to the podium as he smiled with self satisfaction. Once behind the podium Trump proceeded to slowly scan the room from side to side with his classically vacant stare. The conference was a fiasco and made little to absolutely no sense at all as Trump dodged questions, made false allegations and rambled on about subjects that weren’t addressed in the news conference. After 45 minutes or so Trump finally wound down his inane diatribe and opened the floor to questions. This was my opening because to fight Donald Trump your best weapon is Donald Trump. All one has to do to pick a fight with Trump is to say anything remotely critical about him and he launches himself into a terrific tirade which surpasses self defense. He then plunges head first into full on attack mode.
By the time fourth or fifth question had been asked Trump was already leaning aggressively forward over the podium his face flushed with outrageous anger. Trump’s facial features had twisted and contorted into an insane mask of rage filled disgust and endless contempt. He was cracking quickly and I knew it was now or never. I raised my hand and was lucky enough to have him call upon me.
I simply asked the president how he plans to make America great again if his bartenders at Trump’s Bar and Grill couldn’t even make a proper cocktail? Without pausing for a millisecond I continued by explaining. A patron of his eating establishment photographed a $22 gin martini because it was served in wine glass filled with a generous handful of ice. I was some unknown brand of gin, and had a very weak looking olive.
This was the straw that broke the Donald’s back as it were. Trump started waving his hands in the air like a demonically possessed air traffic controller screaming at the top of his lungs that in fact, the world has been making martinis wrong, and Trump’s bar staff actually know the correct recipe. Thats when the shit really hit the fan as they say.
Trump’s private security burst open the conference room doors with the force of an atom bomb and came charging in like rabid bulls. Unfortunately the private security team had had a miscommunication issue as to what was happening and who they were supposed to subdue. This miscommunication led Trump’s private security personnel to engage in an all out fucking fist fight with the Secret Service who too where there for the protection of the president. Steve Bannon appeared out of no where holding a copy of “Mien Komf” which he immediately started reading in German. I wanted to punch Bannon in his white nationalist fat fucking face, but I didn’t want my hand to stink of cheap whiskey, sweat and nazi for the rest of the day. Mike Pence, being the giant pussy that he is, had been methodically backing up since the opening of the Q and A to the curtain behind the podium, which he now utilized to hide with only his expensive Italian loafers poking out from the bottom. Reporters scrambled to defensive positions tripping over each other’s camera cords, and misplaced chairs in an attempt to capture as much footage as possible. Kellyanne Conway showed up to pander to the remaining cameras and reporters jumping around like a jack rabbit on crystal meth. Kellyanne was trying in vain to convince the reporters that this was not a riot of any kind, BUT it was a rally born of over exuberance, love and support for Trump. This over exuberance had caused a spontaneous outbreak of fanatical joy and sincere celebration. Moments after appearing on the scene Kellyanne was struck violently on the top of her head in the misguided attack by a Trump supporter armed with a confiscated boom microphone. The boom microphone crashed down upon Kellyanne’s skull with such brute force it split her head in half in a volcanic explosion of blood. Kellyanne’s body wavered a second with her eyes still blinking in such a way it was reminiscent of a Hammerhead Shark before collapsing lifelessly on the floor. Just then I spotted the one person I hate worse than Donald Trump, the British journalist Milo “I will say anything or back anything outrageous for attention” Yiannopoulos who is employed by the GOP to run interference using the most vile propaganda to distract the public from the president. Milo was dressed in a British school boys uniform to accommodate his latest travesty of defending, exuding and virtually promoting pedophilia. My attention was drawn to Yiannopoulos. He was fleeing franticly towards the fire exit at the back of the room when he got knocked flat on his back by an improvised nazi salute from Bannon. I ran over to Milo and informed him I was the vice president of NAMBLA (may all members of NAMBLA be castrated and left to bleed out)and I was here to help him escape. Once Milo was on his feet again I led him to the center of the conference room directly under the industrial fan that was humming like monster truck engine.
Once we were positioned under the gigantic fan I bent down, grabbed Milo behind his legs under his buttocks, and hoisted him strait up into the fury of the fan blades. The fan blades turned Milo’s head, arms and upper torso into minced meat with a shower of blood, bone and body parts raining down upon the entire room. I dropped Milo’s mutilated and mangled carcass and looked back at Steve Bannon. Bannon had worked himself into such a fury he had triggered a massive fucking heart attack. His face as white as his KKK hood, sweating like a pig at the slaughtering house, gasping for air and clutching at his heart with his right hand while still kept on reading. Seconds later Bannon dropped to his knees, explosively shit his pants and fell over dead as a door nail, and his eyes looked like 2 fucking blowfish due to Bannon’s extremely insane blood pressure right before death. The chaos was reaching a climax when I realized if I believed in self preservation this was time to make my exit. Trump’s security had surrounded him and were ushering him out the door with great difficulty because Trump kept stopping to turn around and yell ridiculous claims such as this was a media plot to destroy and discredit him, this is part of the Liberal agenda, this was in all reality fake news, the electoral college, the boarder wall, molesting women, his bank account, Putin and how it was mother Russia marrying father America, questioning Obama’s birth certificate, China hackers that plagued the election, hair care, tanning tips, advertisements for Trump Towers/ Trump casino’s/Trump Hotels, unifying America, Rosie O’Donell, preaching he never once went bankrupt, the annoying planes that fly over his mansion, tweeting, and vast voter fraud. I ducked and weaved my way to and fro, out the conference room door into the foyer. As I made a beeline for the club’s front door I saw radio personality and Trump lover Alex Jones standing in the middle of the foyer like he was the eye of a hurricane. Jones was spouting Trump propaganda and undying support for him, like a deranged circus barker. I couldn’t resist so I got in front of him and when he opened his mouth for another decree I rammed my microphone into it, and then proceeded to jam the microphone as far as humanly possible down his throat into his esophagus rendering Jones silent as well as dead the mic cord hanging out the corner of his mouth like a wayward piece of spaghetti.

As I strode towards my car drenched in blood I thought to myself what a wonderful little riot that was.

The Id, Ego & Super Ego as Explained By Me Less Sober

The Principles of The Id,Ego and Super Ego construct was created by the acclaimed Godfather of modern Psychology the one and only Sigmund Freud. Now its a fairly well known fact that Freud prescribed cocaine as part of his patients therapy, but what is far lesser known is the fact Freud not only prescribed cocaine to his patients he also used cocaine. The question remains at what point in Freud’s carreer did his cocaine use affect and subsequently undermined his work. Lets face the facts, no one listens or believes the ramblings of a coke head no matter how smart they may have been before succumbing to the negative affects. So without further a due  here is the Id, Ego and Super Ego explained by yours truly.

The Id: First we start with what Freud referred to as a person’s Id. The Id is the part of a person that is primally hedonistic, its the part of a person that lives to drink,fight,fuck and indulge in any and all hedonistic activities no matter the consequences (consequences don’t exist in the Id’s world and if they did the Id wouldn’t care less about them)) If you think of the Id, Ego and Super Ego as members of the same family the Id would be the “Problem Child”operating with beyond ruthless abandon. The Id would be the wild younger brother who only gives a shit about himself and what he wants to do which is essentially to indulge deeply in pleasure seeking activities. The Id’s motto is “Long Live Me and Fuck Everyone who disagrees or tries to stop me!!!”

The Ego: The Ego is born from the so called wisdom of experience through the countless trials and tribulations that are life. The Ego is the Goodie-Goodie straight A over achiever older brother of the family. Being the “sensible one” puts the Big Brother Ego at constant odds with its younger brother the Id. The Ego’s job is to counter act the insanity of the Id at all costs. If the Id wants its entire face tattooed then the Ego must automatically stop the Id from doing so by dominating the outcome. Thus the relationship of the Id and Ego is a nonstop, full throttle, extremely intense, passionate and brutal argument over every subject under the sun in an eternal battle of wills.

The Super Ego: Now with the Id and Ego being in constant disagreement there is a need for The Super Ego or the Parental Figure of this little family. The Super Ego incorporates the learned values and morals of society, and acts mainly as a   referee meets politician meets police officer. The Super Ego’s job is to defuse conflict between the Id and The Ego and to broker a truce. If the Id is screaming bloody murder about a Full Face Tattoo, and the Ego is yelling at the top of its lungs that a facial tattoos are for degenerate criminal prone anti social cretins its the Super Ego that steps in. The Super Ego must find a acceptable compromise for the War over facial tattoos. The Super Ego can for example say  “Lets let the Id get a tattoo BUT somewhere thats not the face.” this hopefully appeases the Ids desires and give into the Ego’s need for control over the Id.

So in conclusion though you may consider yourself a singular person there are three distinctly different personality traits locked in endless combat and compromise inside your mind. You have the self indulgent Id with sometimes darker impulses (i.e. “Carl stole my promotion and I’m gonna kill him/beat his ass/burn down his house etc) You also have the Ego that allows you to maintain an acceptable/normal life regardless of its disagreements with the Id. You also out of necessity have the Super Ego, and lets face it without the Super Ego humans would never have evolved since they’d be stuck in a constant struggle to make even the simplest decisions.