Archive for the ‘Current events’ Category


Dear President Putin,

Hello, how are you?

I hope you are doing well. You seem a bit uptight; I mean, invading a country, then going on TV and stating anyone tries anything, you still got nukes.

That’s like me standing in the middle of a Walmart screaming I am the Lizard King, I can do anything.

You should try that!

I decided to write this letter after drinking some crap beer, I couldn’t buy my usual crap beer, the nice cashier told me it cause you President Putin are causing issues.

Please stop that!

I doubt you will ever read this letter but I did once write a letter to Tom Cruise and apparently he read it and sent me a response; it was called CEASE AND DESIST!

I hope you find this letter! I once wrote Mitch McConnell and he replied! By sending a hit squad after me.

Please don’t do that! I know rumors of your temper and sending your opponents to a nice early “Retirement” are well known.

I understand why you invaded Ukraine, I too would love an busted leaking nuclear power plant too!! And the seaport would be nice too; sit on the beach, drinking good Russian vodka, straight, right from the bottle, as we talk about how Ronald Reagan wouldn’t have allowed you to pull this crap.

He was senile.

Our current president is that too but in the funny; “Look mom!! Him got his pants on backwards!”

Can’t you just ask California to give you some beach front property? They got lots! I could come over, sit on sandy beach with you, drink the good vodka.


Anyways; if you read this, please respond, I could forward it to President Biden; don’t mention that I told you he bad senile.

Your friend;



I know most of you read me for my poetry and I thank you.

Today though, I feel the need to talk about something that effects all of us in some way; The Facebook Jail.

Facebook is known for their “You said no no word, you get 30 days” without reason and once again, today, I got sentenced to 30 days but the other bot said 7 days ,so who knows, who cares, I appealed but might as well have asked the wall for a second chance.

“So Random Writer who writes the poems that make people cry, what got you busted?”

I used the term “pew pew pew” and finger gun, a childhood replacement for the fancy cap guns the rich kids had as we played cops and robbers.

“You animal!!!! They should throw away the kw

I know!

The even funnier part of this story is, Facebook has in their Gif sections 100s of “Pew pew pew”.

The official charge for the banning was violence or incitement.

I’m not sure when this happened, this rule that pew is a violent term but apparently awhile back as a friend of mine got thrown into jail for using the term pew as in “Pew! Your feet stink!”

Good times.

I have been thrown into jail numerous times, a few maybe correct, but most well, the one time I called someone a codsucker.

As in the fish.

30 days for hate speech or threat of bodily harm.

I should have punched the douche who threatened to kill me.

Facebook did nothing to that person.

Facebook has an appeal process –

  1. Appeal first time when the charge of violating terms of services. Chance you’ll succeed: maybe 1 out of 10,000. Seriously. You’re more likely to win the major lottery 27 times in a row then you are to win a Facebook appeal.
  2. After denial of appeal, you will be told of this independent council, a different company, that you can submit a case to for them to review. This is worthless for two reasons (a)they only take on very few cases, like President Trump’s case, which they denied as well. (b)Even if they take on your case, and agree you were banned for no just reason, Facebook doesn’t have to adhere to the judgement. They can say, nope still banned.

I don’t know what to say but going pew pew pew with finger guns is apparently a bad thing, right up there with killing babies.

Children at school grounds, little kids, have been suspended from their elementary school for going pew pew pew.

Where are we heading and should I just pew pew pew my brains out now?

Photo by Isaac Pollock on

02/8/2019 — Louisville, Kentucky

Dear K-Mart,

You apparently, along with Sears, have been brought out of bankruptcy, saved by that white knight in rusted armor, Eddie Lampert.

I do not know whether to celebrate, cry, or go eat cookies.

I know it will save jobs but will it truly save you?

For me, in this world of brick and mortar, you have gone away, sold off, closed to pay off billions in debt, sacrificed on the altar of greed by men in slick back hair and pinstripe suits.

Yes, I know your answer to me, will be, I can go to and order my items there, just like I can go to and buy sodas, but, it’s just not the same.

The interaction between people is gone, that’s what made you the best.

Getting chased out of the store by the store manager as I strolled drunkenly through the store trying on dresses at random, not even bothering with a dressing room, these experiences cannot be repeated online!!

The Blue Light is not the same on the web, it’s there, on YouTube, Radio Kmart, which use to blare over head in the store, is also on YouTube but it’s not the same.

I worked for two Kmarts in my career in the retail wars.

My first time was the store in New Albany, Indiana; Grant Line.

I was part of the team that converted the store from a Little K into Big K in the summer of 1998.

We were proud of that store; but I didn’t continue on after the expansion was done, deciding to go work for the mob in their IT department for a casino in Indiana.

I cried like a baby when I heard that my store, it was always my store, had been shut down.

Strangely, I was working at a Kmart in Montana when I got the news.

My second store was in Butte, Montana.

I’ll admit, I screwed the pooch bad and was fired from there, but I still cried when I heard that store was closing in 2018.

I thought Kmart would always be there.

It had always been there for me.

That harbor in the storm; a place I could fall back on, I met friends who I consider family, from my time at Kmart.

Friends who were still working hard for you, my Kmart, even when the doors shut for that last time.

Even a few years ago, if you had told me that Kmart or Toys R Us would have closed forever, death by bankruptcy, I would have laughed.

Giants like that don’t die from mismanagement or such things, they might stumble, lean back a bit, and regroup but never closed.

But closed you did.

I guess the old song is true; you can’t go home again!

You and TRU should be a warning sign to other companies; you can die horrible deaths, you’re not immortal giants, a crack in your base can bring the mighty tower down!!

Kmart; I know you’re just a corporate entity, no heart, no soul, and I know years down the road, no one will go, “Lets go to Kmart…” then pause and remember, Kmart is no more, but I will, I will never forget you.

I should say good luck, to that future, where you will survive, mostly as an online entity; and a few stores of brick and mortar, tucked away in Bumsville, Alabama or Cuba or wherever they keep the lights on, and I will; Good luck Kmart….

Into the future you go!


Your friend,


Things I have learned throughout my life as a blogger — Advice to the future  or How I learned to love myself in the modern age of Dance

A Look inside a Human Machine by Jason Giecek Human at Large

01/21/2019 – Louisville, Kentucky

I started blogging in 2008 on a site called Open.Salon, it was a fun time activity I began after working at a casino ran by the mob (Or Caesars and later Horseshoe) as an IT worker, breaking computers with a hammer or TNT as they wouldn’t reboot properly.

It was a good time to be alive.

I wrote about the crazy thoughts that poured into my skull and out of my fingers at 3 AM, a thing I still practice today except I don’t stay up that late, usually curling up into a ball in my bed at around 1:30 in the AM, still late for some.

Truthfully honest, I’ve been writing for a lot longer than 2008, I actually been writing my entire life, but, very rarely sharing my tomes, except for one girl I knew back in the third grade.

She laughed at me and that’s when I found out, women are cruel witches put on this planet to make men sad and miserable at their “Short comings!”

I kid.

Some were put on this planet to just run men over in their cars.

Moving on.

I discovered early on that in writing, sad depressive pieces sell better.

Not exactly sure why, maybe people like to read about people having more issues than them.

Happy love stories make them think their lives aren’t as good as the writer’s and it makes them sad whereas, they read a sad story, poetry, etc. and they’re like, “At least I’m not that guy!”

It’s like sad movies, sometimes we just need a good cry, get all the pain out of the system.

I will admit, most of my poetry is sad, depression filled words, from a deep dark place that is called me.

Sometimes when I write such things, I’m in happy land, but just picking at old wounds scabbed up.

For some reasons, we as humans like to pick at scabs, open up old wounds, bring up old memories, things that haunt us as we sleep, dream of old loves, loves that never were, etc. etc.

I really suck at letting go.

I think I get that feature from my mother’s side of the gene pool.

Along with me worrying about things I cannot change.

About the little things.

The big deals usually roll off of my back, becoming fertilizer for my writings, there sitting in some chair at 3 am.

Actually, the little things become good fertilizer as well.

I think everything can be used to grow the imagination, except the news, the news sucks!

Nobody likes to read about current events, unless, it’s a spoof of current events.

People love reading funny things about like Senators and Congressmen and sexy governors in lingerie.

The governor’s name?


Anyways, that’s about it, I write to keep from going insane. Well, more insane.

Okay, I write to keep from wandering the streets and get in trouble with the law.

Good night and have a better tomorrow…

Earlier today, I sat and watched the news, there was a story about how the current US government shutdown is affecting those in the United States Coast Guard and their families.

Apparently the Coast Guard, unlike other branches of the military services, are part of the folks not receiving paychecks during this situation.

This got me thinking and I posted the below on my Facebook and decided to post it here.

If we are so worried about border protection, terrorism, all those buzzwords that get thrown around, why aren’t the folks in the Coast Guard or the TSA not considered critical workers and getting paid right now?

Also to those people who say this is like a vacation for these government workers and they’ll be paid at sometime, try this — go to work but don’t receive pay, do this for awhile, fun huh? Try to explain to like your bank, land lord, grocery store, etc. that you’ll give them money when you will finally get paid down the road months from now.

Fun right?

Yeah, now isn’t that a fun vacation?

A good percentage of people in this country live pay check to pay check, one step from being homeless.

Stop playing this game, we need reform in a lot of areas in this country, too bad we can’t throw the effort that has been thrown nto building a wall into building a better United States; better infrastructures, try to help the homeless, the hungry, wouldn’t that be nice?

Instead we do what good for parties.

Sad really.

Good night and have a better tomorrow.

December 1st, 2018 — Louisville, Kentucky — Mood: Wha?

Apparently, if something is slightly offensive to a few people, if really any, it’s off the list.

A long time Christmas song has been removed from a radio station’s play list because a few people insist it’s about rape.

In this day and age, anything can be construed as “offensive” and deleted from society because well, we are snowflakes and hurtful things are bad, even the word, “Hello” could be construed as hateful.

Take a look at the make up of the word.


Offensive to me, hurts my feelings, people telling me to go to Hell when I enter a room.

Sinful even.

Frosty the Snowman should be removed as well.

First off, Snowman?  How sexist!!!

Then melting the man? We all know that the snowman represents our religious beliefs and are being melted by the Atheists who wrote this song.

Don’t believe me?

Just ask me, I’ll tell you.

I remember back in the day, there were things that offended society, we dealt with them by not listening to them, they usually went away if they were truly offensive.

We lived with bad TV shows, rotten songs, crap movies, even slutty priests and dirty nurses in Penthouse Magazines.

We lived. 

We actually grew up, maybe a little twisted but that could have been the lead paint.

Nowadays, kids do not know the experience of surviving of being nailed with a lawn dart or hearing the Satanic version of Frosty the Snowman, or seeing a priest and a nun naked in Penthouse Magazine.

A sad day indeed.

Tuesday, November 27th, 2018 – Louisville, Kentucky

Dear Reader,

I started thinking about this blog post around 4 am this morning, it was a cold start, snowing sprinkles of white dusting, a holiday cheer, apparently, direct from the Weather Gods to cover the piles of dog poop out there on the grass.

I had this vision, the American dream, as directed by a self-deprecating person who was in need of ADD medication as delivered by a drunken clown.

Whatever happened to the American Dream?

Two cars in the garage, a swimming pool that wasn’t filled with disease ridden geese we named Charles in tribute to Prince Charles, and a million bucks a month, tax free, no strings attached except we might have to do a favor for the President of Peru at some time.

Nowadays, we’re lucky to have a roof over our head; a cardboard box, to call our own, to even have a job that pays pennies on the dollars, and questions are asked.

Companies that we grew up with like Kmart, Sears, Toys R Us are closing or are closed.

Car companies, the past back bone of that American Dream, are in dire trouble, cutting jobs left and right.

Those past two cars in the garage are gone; no longer made, because damn it, they too expensive to make, in any country.

Even Walmart, the grandfather of jobs that kinda suck but you still work for them because Fat Burgers doesn’t give bathroom breaks, is cutting hours of their employees in a chase to maximize profits.

“We raised the hourly rate to $10 an hour, what did you expect?” 

Course, being an executive in this “Cut and burn” progression of our country is still a paid out job; even if a company goes bankrupt, these men in black suits, get bonuses.

“What? But they hosed the goose! No money!! No bonuses!! They should pay it all back!!” I can hear you screaming.

They should but they won’t have to.

Millions of dollars are giving to these turds while the worker, the true back bone of the system, get the hose.

“You should have worked harder!!! Like me!!” Some Sears executive says as he takes his golden parachute and jumps from the plane which will soon crash into the mountain top.

It kind of makes sense that we have our current leader, our President, at the helm of this cruise ship named the Titanic, plotting our course.

Some people are upset over the President’s family choice of Christmas decor for the White House.

Not me, I find them appropriate.

Listen, those trees are a representation of what America is, and what is will be for a very long time.

We’re that messed up family on the block, Grandpa is out in his underwear screaming about how taxes are too high, welfare moms are too high, etc. etc.

Mom’s in the basement, huffing gasoline with dad and sis!!

This is “Our America!!”, home of the all you can eat heart killing buffet, $12.95 with a diet coke to make it okay!!!!!

Don’t like it, there’s the door, bring help!!!

Yes, we can get a new Prez in 2 years, but we’ll still have the legacy, the nickname, best family on the block!!! Cause Uncle Don knows how to decorate the house with beer cans!! Amen!!

Even with a new President, the issues of what is causing the downfall, that death of the Dream our forefathers and mothers had for us, their children, is there.

The car companies failing has been coming on for a very long time.

The companies we thought would be there for a very long time, they were killed by greed; executives who shouldn’t have been put in charge of baby sitting an already dead baby, billions of dollars in sales negated by triple or more in interest on debt that was used for God only knows what.

It sure wasn’t used to better the stores or provide a living wage for the employees, it probably ended up some executives’ noses and possibly rumps.

Who knows with those executives!

Is America great?

We sure are.

We still have those buffets; shops that sell sex toys that also double as blenders, for some The American Dream is still alive but that number is decreasing.

People are having to work 3 to 4 jobs just to cover the basics; like a roof, food, it has been coming on for a long time, and even now, the jobs are becoming harder and harder to find.

Both sides of this mess we call politics will tell you, the economy is doing great, but if you dig just a little bit below the surface, you’ll discover, it really isn’t.

Do I have a solution?

No, I do not, except nuke it from orbit, and start over again, this time enabling cheats, like some sort of video game.

09/13/2018 – Somewhere outside of my mind

The music is playing; from out of some fools’ cars –

All the bitches,
All the whores,
They know me by my first name.

Wandering down the street; tired but too early for bed.

It’s a busy night for being a Thursday; people sit on sidewalk tables; drinking their wine, trying to flirt with first dates; last date from the look on the one girl’s face.

“Last time I’ll let Charlotte set me up with someone!” I hear her muttering under her breath, her date lost in his cell phone, who knows why.

I smile at her, she smiles back, by the time I come back from my adventure in getting a diet coke from the convenience store; they’ve gone, split in different directions according to the waitress who was cleaning the table.

“Damn shame!” I say smiling; the waitress returns a smile and nods.

Great night to be alive;

The sky is clear; slight humidity raising the temperatures up, enough to pretend I’ve exercised, a bead of sweet forming on my forehead.

I make it up the stairs to my front door.

A true wonderful night to be alive and well.

Today, I sat and watched my TV, nothing much on, but I kept an eye on the weather channel due to some storms rolling through the area.

The phone rang.

“Hello?” I said, dead air.

Most of the time at this point, I just hang up.

“Hello?” I repeated and heard two clicks then a male voice responded.

“Hi! How are you today?”

“Awful!” I replied.

“I’m sorry to hear that!” and then proceeded to go into its sales pitch for home security products.

I tried to get it to stop by saying, I’M NOT INTERESTED IN ANY HOME SECURITY SYSTEM, pleading for it to shut up and shut down but it continued and to be truthfully honest, I wanted to see how advanced this robo-telemarketer was.

After a few minutes, it asked, “Are you the home owner?”

“No, ” I replied

“I’m sorry, good day!” and hung up.

We may never get another man on the moon but we have almost gotten to a point in artificial intelligence for telemarketing robocallers.

Back in the day, I worked for a telemarketing company, I ran their dialers and maintained their computers which the service reps would read their script. 48 stations with 2 lines each running to them, all manned by humans, real flesh and blood.

Now, you don’t even need an IT Guy, just some computer in a rack somewhere in the world, dialing numbers, spoofing phone numbers so people can’t even call it back to complain, a world soon ran by machines…

08/09/2018 – Blahland, USA

I casted my first vote way back when in 1989, it felt good to be part of the “Democratic” process and from that day forward I voted, I felt like I was a solution to a huge problem, I was told by people I respected that my vote matter.

My voice was being heard, I thought, by people of great power.

You wanted to keep your job, you better do it well, or I’m voting you out.

I even helped a senator from the great state of Montana get re-elected in 1996.

And there, in that process of helping out, I peeked behind the curtain, I saw that the great and all powerful Wizard of Oz was nothing more than some frail old man in dire need of a blow job.

I learned that both sides were cobras, we, the people were just voting for which cobra we wanted to bite us.

(D) or (R), which one had the best fangs.

I registered as a D, they seem like they were there for the people, the Democrats wouldn’t fuck the working man.

The Rs were the evil, mustache twirling black hatters who cackled with nervous glee as the train came barreling down the tracks to the tie down damsel in distress.

The Third Party, the I, were basically two commies in a bathroom stall in a Greyhound Bus Station in Fargo, no real presence but you knew they were there because of the smell.

The Is never amounted to much, a tick in some elections, a barf in others, and if you asked your grandparents, the only good commie was a dead commie.

In 2016, something happened that pushed me farther away from the political scene as a voter.

A cluster fuck of a circus that for generations will be taught in history class as “The Year the Music Died…”

No wait, that’s a different blog.

The 2016 Presidential Election was a space flight right into the sun.

The Rs decided to hold a 100 ring circus before the main event; thousands of contenders filled the air waves with debates, punches, circle jerks, etc.

“I want to be your President!”

And there was some actual good candidates in the bunch.

But in the end, they picked a game show.reality show host.

The Ds, not wanting to be outdone by pure stupidity, held a race between two mice; one though, the Ds cut off his legs before the race was even announced.

It was a good year to stay home and vote for your penis as state senator.

The main event; laughable in the fact that the Ds swore they were going to win.

“How could we lose to a game show host! We have the chance for the 1st woman President right here!!! IF you don’t vote for her, you’re a sexist asshole!”

I decided to vote for gin.

“Don’t throw your vote away! Make it count!”

To explain the electoral process of the United States of America is like explaining the beauty of a mountain scene to a blind at birth person.

You can try and explain it but in the end, you’ll both just want to drink a lot of booze and write love poems to your mom.

I’ve had people from other countries ask me, “But didn’t Trump win by the peoples’ vote?”

And the answer is no.

The way the American election system works is people, pretending that their vote means a crap, goes to a place to check boxes, it doesn’t really matter which box you check as each ballot gets shredded and the computer assigns a random number every .000001 to the voter which is then translated to a candidate.

None of this matters as the final decision is sent to a college with no football team who then flips a coin; heads to the Republican or tails to the Democrats.

It has been ran this way since forever.

Back in the day, cow patties and huge rolls of butcher paper were used to pick the President.

I won’t go into the details except to say your plop mattered back then.

If you live in a state like I did during this election, where your “Electoral vote” is less than the IQ of a dead monkey, those ballots are just shredded and you just get the feeling that you did your civic duty.

You can get that same feeling by drinking a bottle of rum and then drunk texting your ex.

“But, Mr. Blog Writer, why don’t you go out and change the system! Go out and help the I to become a fighting force! WE CAN!!!”

Sadly we can’t.

Not without Corporate Sponsorship.

Or a dance off.

But mostly Corporate Sponsorship.

So what happened?

Donald Trump won.

It is now 2018.

The future science fiction writers wrote about way back when in 1942.

Flying cars.

Cities on the moons,

They couldn’t imagine.

A new mid term election is in play; the people are out!

“We are going to change the system!!”

“Come on Random Blogger! Get on board the TRAIN! WOO! WOO!”

I have decided to not vote this time around; take a breather from that feeling of civic duty; one I was beyond proud to do back in the day; now it just feels like giving a blow job to a dead monkey.

Both sides are insane; the only time I hear from either is when they need something; donations, my vote, blood.

Both sides are like blood suckers; “IF you don’t help me, the system will implode!!”

Well, in that case, goodbye system and thanks for all the fish, I ain’t voting, I ain’t donating and if I’m lucky, I’ll kick the bucket before 2020 when Kim Kardashian becomes the next United States of America’s President.

“That’s Madam President to you Random Blogger!!”

If you want me, I’ll be over here drinking rum and watching 100 Day Fiance…