Life in tha system: Bitching, American style. -- Final End

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Date Posted: 00:51:10 11/06/02 Wed
Author: The Serpent
Subject: Life in tha system: Bitching, American style.

It seems that their is an entity that hangs over my head (among other peoples) that has probably been labelled as "bad luck." Or, to religious fundamentalists, "satan." And is satan just giggling while, for no apparent reason, my washing machine breaks down before I get home? And is God's arms crossed, looking in the other direction, telling me, "remember all that 'god' bashing you've done and continue to do?" "Well, here's your punishment!!"

NO!

"Hell" is not the fire and brimstone place that your Sunday morning preacher likes to talk about for hours upon hours until you finally accept Jesus into your heart and give Pat Robertson all your money out of fear of going there. Oh, no. It's the chain of events of the hellish nightmare like dramas and traumas and nit-picky bullshit that seems to happen for no apparent reason. Although, I would say that sometimes a person can create a Hellish day for themselves or others. I wouldn't really throw all the blame on physics, bad luck, or even satan.

But did I throw my cat into the washing machine, and that's how it broke? No. Of course I didn't do anything as sadistic as that. What I did do, though, is I washed my clothes. And (if my room mates aren't lying to me) they've been doing the same thing. And that's all.

So, I come home from Ground Zero (here in Tennessee) known as the voting polls to hear, "DUDE!! The washing machine is fucked!" "So we gotta wash our clothes at the laundry mat." And, the laundry mat must be a place where dickhead Titan-fan babies live, apparently.

I mean, I saw a bunch of guys there discussing the lottery that we might be getting in Tennessee. I kinda brought up (the first time I went in) that I didn't think we needed a lottery in Tennessee. Well, guess what? Now I'm a "faggot" (among other things) for having a view point about anything, I guess. They wouldn't even listen to the reasons. They said that my kind and my stupid Christian views were keeping them down.

My kind? My stupid Christian views?

Well, I don't think there is even such a thing as my kind. And I defiantly do not own any Christian views. Much less, would I even want to harbor them.

Why would the lottery even be a Christian issue? Because Christians think it's wrong to gamble? They think it's wrong to have sex. I'm not protesting against that, am I?

The answer would be 'no.'

Then, I leave, and come back two hours (or so) later. Well, what do ya know! Those guys are still there. I didn't notice the last time, but this time they weren't even washing any clothes. They were just sitting there, at some table, eating snacks from the snack machine.

Why would anyone wanna hang out at a laundry mat or even eat at a laundry mat? The smell of Tide mixed with Clorox mixed with Arm & Hammer about made me sick enough to almost wanna throw-up. Even without having anything to eat for the last seven or eight hours.

So, now I'm a non lottery loving faggot Christian nazi who wants to keep Tennessee down, if not the whole entire world. Yeah, yeah! You know, watch out for my kind! There's one or two in everyone of your towns! All this because, at the laundry mat, I couldn't keep my damn mouth shut, right? Which I think is kinda sad. I thought one of the great reasons for having a mouth is so that I could use it. My step mom didn't think so. In fact, she hopes I have kids just like me. Wouldn't that be scary? I'd say, "Hey, kids! We're going to your step grandma's house - Muahahaha!!" And the good ole white boys at the laundry mat didn't think that anyone who is against the sacred lottery should have a right to speak, either. Especially since I disagreed with something that's gonna help nothing but our federal government and maybe Nevada, or something. And not Tennessee at all. More money for old ladies and the IRS! Hoo-Ray!

Here's another thing. I've been filling in on the drums for this local rock band and friends of mine, so they can get started. My main reason for this is because they have amazing songs, they're incredibly talented, interesting, and the song writer writes extremely well lyrics. Which I should post some time.

Anyway, their search for a drummer hasn't even started. I've even told them that I was willing to put up banners that say they're looking for a drummer at Sam Ash (a music store where I live). Well, no. They say that's their job. But it's a "job" they haven't even done yet. They say they've talked to a few people (oh, jesus), and they just can't seem to find one.

I've believed that up until recently. And I want to continue to believe it. Sure, I've been making a few extra dollars playing for them, but I don't wanna be in two rock bands for the rest of my life because of one other band's incompetence. Especially since my other band, before we got started, made a "loyalty oath" where we'd be fully devoted to our one band - long story.

So, I'm lost as to what I should do here. Just ditch the the other band? Give them an ultimatum? Which I would hate, by the way. Or just continue? I mean, I'm not that nice of a person. I don't like to get sodomized by a band (if that's what's happening here). I don't care how good they are. Or how they really need these gigs. I mean, if they really cared, I think they'd be looking for a drummer, right?

To put the icing on the shit cake I stupidly said I'd help this girl pay her last month's rent. Which I already had. She's a friend of mine. Not girl friend. Just friend. Actually, a friend I've had for a long time. Well, she got knocked up by a crack-head, had a kid, blah-blah- Jerry Springer.

Well, by my big mouth I tell my girl friend. Because I just tell her everything. I mean, we've already been through a few problems (that are my fault, by the way, and I accept that).

But, I still get the dumbest questions. I mean, she asks these questions as though we just started dating, and my history as any kind of a boy friend has been erased out of her memory. And it's the usual questions. You don't even have to ask.

Why do I get these questions?! Because I feel sorry for a friend (who could have even been a guy, but happened to be *gasp* female) who purposely got a baby injection by her boy friend so she would have to be stuck with him forever, but then he turns around and leaves and now she doesn't have last month's rent? I mean, for all practical purposes I just might have felt more sorry for the baby and not exactly her. Why does the baby have to suffer for their mistakes? The kid shouldn't.

But, no. I get hell for doing a good deed.

I guess I'm lucky that I don't live in Romania or South Africa where they don't have the luxury of these American soap opera like problems. But, as the soap dish grimes, I sometimes get pissed off enough about what our system is doing to us, and then, these little nit-picky problems, that shouldn't even be, that I feel like I could take about fifty hits of acid and just go insane, and not worry about anything any more.

I even get online for a second just to see what's up on the message board, and holier than thou Paul jumps on my case about talking behind his back. Oooh, man - shame on me, right? Like I'd really do that in the first place.

Anyway, just thought I'd take up some cyber space on Lona's message board by just bitching, American style.

If you actually read through all of this. I kinda feel sorry for you. But, thanks. :)

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