Archive for the ‘humor’ Category

Butte – A grand city of bars and prostitutes, according to a random tourist at the Safeway store.

Well okay she didn’t say grand.

I can’t say what she called Butte.

We were someplace around “The Pit” when the drugs began to take hold.

I kid.

There were no drugs, not even a we, except for my imaginary friends.

I was drinking whiskey and cokes in a room at the Motel 6 in Uptown Butte.

In a few days, I’ll be leaving Butte for the 2nd greatest city in my life, Louisville, Kentucky.

Butte is the city that made me who I am today.

A drunken writer.

I’ll miss this town.

She isn’t for everybody.

But maybe that’s what makes her so great.

She isn’t a typical tourist trap.

She ain’t no beauty but she has a huge heart and a brilliant beautiful soul.

She is pock marked hard with a long mining history.

But without Butte, a lot of “better” cities in Montana and even the USA wouldn’t even exist.

Many family fortunes would not have been gained off the backs of the Butte miners.

My grandfather being one of them miners.

He raised a family here.

His son, my dad, Rudy Giecek, saved part of Butte’s “wanted to forget” piece of history, The Dumas Brothel which he bought from the last madam, Ruby Garrett back in 1990.

He kept trying to save it till 2012 when his health finally wouldn’t let him.

Me?

I just write about her.

A lady, a tourist, came through another checker’s line at my store.

She was pissed.

“There’s nothing but bars and prostitutes in this town!!”

She had read on some website that Butte was a great town to bring kids.

She stormed out of the store yelling about giving Butte a negative review on Yelp.

I think Butte should market her bars and prostitutes.

And our casinos.

We have the best casinos.

No, I don’t know which bars have the best prostitutes.

I was once hit on at a bar by a mother of the bride to be.

We were both pretty drunk.

I almost went with her on a bar cruise but instead I stumbled off my bar stool and wandered off.

I fell into the Blacktail Creek instead.

My fiancee laughed at that story.

Butte should be marketed as a writer and artist colony.

Wander the streets and the alleys and discover the real Butte.

Its heart and soul.

Butte is a historic town.

And yes she is still rough from her years of mining.

But she will always be my city, my hometown.

I love her bars and prostitutes.

And okay, she has some pretty good people in general.

Remember to “Tap ‘er light” and see ya later Butte, I’ll be back!

I’ve always been horrible at goodbyes.

I have traveled somewhere and got lost in a book store once. It may have been in Lexington, Kentucky. It was wonderful!

I need to write tonight, I am very tired, not necessarily physically, mostly mentally!

I’m trying to be a good boy, I didn’t kill anyone today!

I may have beaten some customer with a loaf of day old french bread and may have shoved a ten pound turkey up their butt.

Cashiers can get cranky when they skip nap time and then have a customer screech, “This turkey should have rang up at $12.95, not $12.96.”

DO YOU FEEL THE PENNY NOW MY FRIEND!!!!  I scream, shoving pennies by the bucket full down their throats. I AM RHAK, WARRIOR GOD!!! DIE PAGAN FILTH!!!

This gets you a visit to HR.

“Do you think that it was appropriate to scream….” reads transcript from the video surveillance “You have awaken the evil inside of me that has slept for a thousand years!?”

I shrug and then reply, “Maybe, the entire scene needs to be viewed in its entirety, it’s a master piece in English Norse Theater!”

“Does shoving a bottle of $18.45 wine down the customer’s throat while screaming, TO THE WHORES OF YOUR MOTHER’S WOMB compile into this theater script?”

I nod.

“We’ve had 58 complaints today about you!”

I smile.

“That’s down from yesterday, gotta admit, it’s an improvement!”

“GET OUT OF MY OFFICE!!”

Also, my brains are turning to mush.

People don’t realize the fun of being a cashier.checker.dragon slayer.

We stand there for hours, scanning your otter pops, control top pantyhose, and $4.95 a box condoms.

“Pick up a pregnancy test as well, same aisle!” I smile, fake of course. Checkers don’t have real smiles, just like they don’t have souls anymore.

They sold theirs for a box of cereal.

I sold mine for some Raisin Bran.

Nummy for the raisin bran!!

Course, standing there, you get to think, deep thoughts, deep, deep thoughts, like —

  • I really must have done something wrong in a previous life, maybe killed a whole bunch of babies. Maybe I was Hitler. Or a Pharaoh of Egypt, one of the evil ones, who killed a whole bunch of babies.
  • Why did I go to college for?  “Hot babes, lots of drugs!” my brain responds.
  • Do cashiers really get laid a lot like the recruiter said?
  • What is “Getting laid”? Will I ever see a really life naked vagina again?
  • “Probably not, loser!” my brain responds. “You should have stayed in school, became a doctor of literature or underwater basket weaving.

Seeing my old professor from my college days brought back some of those memories, of college frat parties, girls, girls, men, men, more men, no wait, wrong flashbacks!!!
Professor was head of the humanity department, I took his history of the 20th century world, and learned to question authority or do drugs.

I don’t remember.

If you remember college, you did it wrong.

Or maybe that was the 1960s.  I forget.

“Hi! Been a long time!!” I said.

He beamed.  “Did you take my classes, what was your name again?”

I told him.

“I remember you, you were the smart ass in seat 7 row A!”

I nodded.

We both laughed.

I told him about my adventures as an IT monkey for the mafia or a casino in the middle of a corn field, my descent into madness AKA retail.

“You should write a book!! I’m working on one!” he nodded and then we had to part ways.

It’s always nice to see old professors and teachers so they can see where their prized students landed.

“You were my hope…” one of them almost cried at me, running away in tears.

If I’m your hope, you’re f*cked!

I wasn’t his real hope, he was going senile, his wife explained to me later, but if it made me feel better, worst, whatever, then go ahead and believe it.

I’m a hope!!!

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On the Road to Lake Mahaka – 1986 – A semi true story

1986, June, my friends, John “Hawk” and Francis, decided to take a trip, our first road trip on our own, no fathers, no mothers, just us and the open road, heading to Lake Mahaka out in the wilderness.

17 and full of life, men on a journey to find themselves, the call of the wild.

We howled as we packed our clean underwear and such into the back of the truck.

“Do you have enough sandwiches?” my mom asked, as all moms do.

“We don’t need sandwiches! We are going to live off the land!!” I said, thumping my chest and grunting.

“I’ve put some sandwiches in the truck for you!” she said, sighing and then laughing softly.

I sighed.

We took off towards the horizon, our eyes filled with ideas of mountain men tales; fishing for the big trout in the lake, sweet raspberries for dessert.

“Did anyone bring a tent?”Hawk said as we were passing mile marker 75.

No one had.

“We won’t need a tent! We are rugged men!!” I said, grunting, a manly grunt.

Mile marker 85, the horrid sound of a police siren.

I pulled over.

“Boys, do you realize how fast you were going?” the officer said as he stood by the window.

“Uh, no officer…”

He sighed.

“I’m going to give you a warning, this time, but slow it down! You boys going fishing?” he said, looking in the back of the truck.

“We’re on a trip, rugged mountain men!!” we all said, grunting.

The officer smiled.

“Be careful out there boys, don’t die!!” he laughed and headed back to his police car.

We wouldn’t die!! We were men, manly men, hair on our chests, a few hairs on our chins.

We even had beer in the color; five cans!

Mile marker 95.

“I have to pee!! Pull over!” Francis whined.

“No! Hold out!” I growled.

“I can’t!!”

I sighed and pulled over.

And before I stopped, we heard a psst.

“Flat!” Hawk growled.

No spare.

Our luck was going down hill.

15 miles to nearest gas station and a phone.

We flipped a coin to see who would hike back to the station.

Hawk lost.

“Shit!”

A few hours later, a truck drove by and stopped.

“Uh…” Hawk hopped out, “My dad has a tire but it going to take him awhile to get here….”

“How long?”

“Not till tomorrow morning!”

We were still 75 miles from our camp site.

“Are we real men yet?” Francis almost cried.

“Shaddup!”

Two of us hunkered down in the front seat of the truck, the sleeping bags gathered about us as we tried to fall asleep in an awkward position.

Francis won the back of the truck, in the bed.

2 am his won turn into a loss.

Thunder storm, 3 hours, he shivered in the shower, soaked to the bone.

“Next time, I’ll sleep under the truck!” he growled in the morning, trying to shaking himself dry, failing miserably.

A few minutes later, Hawk’s dad showed.

“How are the real men doing?” he almost laughed.

We almost cried.

Tired changed.

“What do you wanna do?” I asked the other two.

“GO HOME!!” they shouted in unison.

We were on our way home without debate!!!

10:46 PM – 5/16/2017: Butte, Montana

It’s dark outside and raining.

Soon, according to the weather man, the rain will turn to snow.

We’re under a winter storm watch.

Welcome to the spring times in the Rockies, it’s a great place to live but not if you like the warm tropical breezes.

I guess you can pretend, sit out on a snow bank and pretend it’s a nice comfy beach.

Frost bite just doesn’t equate to sun tan, trust me on that!!!

I’m sitting here watching The Golden Girls and listening to some YouTube.

Andrew_Jackson-ABI wanted to post something less political than my last few other blogs.

I know there’s stuff happening over there in Washington, DC.

Our president, Donald Trump, in his late night wanderings around the White House is probably throwing his hands in the air, ranting to the ghost of Andrew Jackson.

“Why won’t they like me, Mr. Jackson?” he says pounding the desk in front of him

“I don’t know!! Maybe it’s your face!” Andrew replies, sipping a diet Coke.

President Jackson was apparently a dick in life, so what do you expect from him in death.

I know I said this blog entry was going to be less political but I can’t help it.

It’s just so much easier to write about the current political mess than it is to write about my feelings, my depression, my love of musical theater.

18556267_10158871450295294_5078773635501260390_nI may do that soon, like, my reviews on plays and stuff, if I ever go out to plays and such.

Maybe soon, I’ll hit the movies again, with my imaginary friends, like Anna Lope.

She’s a cool mounted head of a antelope who loves war movies!!

“I love it when the tanks roll, the bombs burst in air, and Tom Cruise comes to rescue me!”

But for tonight, here I sit, in a lounge recliner, watching Fraiser now, Combichrist – Everybody Hates You Full album Disc 1 is playing from YouTube – This Shit will fuck you up.

Sounding like a sound track of my life, this shit WILL fuck you up, like reading my blog, your mind will melt, you will see stuff, like ghosts, spirits, Ann Landers on acid, etc. etc.

I don’t even know what I’m writing about tonight, it’s just stuff drifting inside my head, the weird stuff, the normal stuff, life is there, wondering what I should do now, where should I go from here, maybe Detroit?

Well, okay, maybe not Detroit, though it does have some cheap housing.


Am I enjoying life?


6548847483_8dea35ddc9_bI don’t know how to answer that question.

I’m trying to be a happier individual, someone that people enjoy being around, rather, like my ex, running away from me in terror as I approach them.

I’m a people person, I like people!!

Not really, I tolerate people, for the most part, and they tolerate me.

I haven’t killed anyone, that can be proven, by a court of law.

I did write a blog dedicated to Jack Kerouac – found here ->

Jack Kerouac: Where are you now? A retrospect of my life in words and music.

I’ve also written horrible poetry and song lyrics which one can be found here —–>

PHOTOGRAPH: MEMORIES AS SUNG IN A DREAM

Here I sit, wondering what the next adventure should be, where should I go, down the hill or up the mountain?

Where should I go?

To Hell or back?

I try to keep my mask on, to never let the general public see me cry, try to keep the happy clown mask on.

Why?

Guess it’s just how I am!

87b613ba42b812669526d2f389f55082How the voices in my head want me to be, they don’t want the doctors coming around, to quiet them.

“Shaddup Jason! Don’t let them see you, as the real you! They’ll put you away into the nut house!! We no wanna go there!!”

Choirs in my head, nobody wants to go in there, inside my head.

I have a feeling President Donald Trump is the same way, no one wants to go inside his head either.

Hell, I know I don’t want to be inside my own head, which is what makes this blog so great, you, the reader get to come on inside without going inside!!

Selective travels!!

Come hear the voices inside my head!!!!

I’ll try to write more here than I have in the past!!!

As the real me!!!

The drag queen!

Anyways, another good night and have a better tomorrow!!!

5/16/2017 – Somewhere, USA

Donald_Trump_official_portrait_(cropped)The next day of disclosure by the “fake media” that Trump MAY have disclosed classified information to the Russians, he went on the offense, blaming those who disclosed what had been said at the meeting and stating “Naner naner poo poo butt!! I’m the President, I can do anything I want!!”

He also apparently justified his disclosure as a lead into defeating ISIS which is important no doubt but serious damage could be done in our relationship to those who gave us that information, which, apparently was Israel.

We tried to call Israel in an attempt to get an interview but all we got was a cleaning firm in London, England.

“Israel not here, on lunch, want to leave a message?”

We didn’t.

The White House once more threw out its defense of “It’s all fake!! FAKE!! HEAR US!?!?!” which hardly works even for a 3 year old who blew up the Walmart.

We here at Wandering Where I am Going want to believe President Trump isn’t that stupid but every day is a new vision into a office that is not only in disrepair but already sunk into the murky waters.

Lets stay tune for more of the reality show that would be awesome, if, it wasn’t real!!!

Maybe tomorrow, President Trump will get his tax or health care reform out there.

Yeah, I know, that ain’t going to happen!!

Good night and have a better tomorrow!

 

What did President Donald Trump tell the Russians?

May 15th, 2017

Donald_Trump_official_portrait_(cropped)Apparently The United States President is in the headlines once more again this hour.

Apparently, President Donald Trump, according to some source, revealed classified information to some Russians during their visit last week.

What was revealed?

“Nothing! It’s fake news!!” President screams from the Oval Office, where he’s Tweeting even now as we type this up.

He’s a big Twitter fan!!

But we here at Wandering Where I’m Going decided to investigate into this whole shit ball and went straight to the horse’s mouth.

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“Hello Russian Media!!! You were allowed into the Oval Office last week, what was discussed between President Trump and uh, the Russians?”

“Hello Black Bear, we are big fans of your blog!! You tell truth, so shall we, it was discussed about your lovely Detroit, Michigan!! And your delightful little ham sandwiches with spicy mustard!!”

“Is that all?”

“ISIS may have been discussed but only in reference to ‘Who has the best looking women’s basketball team!?'”

“That sounds feasible!!! So the main stream media is just trying to make something out of nothing!?”

Russian Media sighs and hangs their head.

“You’re not telling us the whole story are you?”

“No! We can’t!!! Your weird delusional president will kill us if we tell you the whole story!!”

“Come on, we’re friends here, tell us! Tell us!!”

“Your President Trump told our government, he LOVES SPAM!!!”

**GASP**

You read it here first my friends, President Donald Trump LOVES Spam.

With pineapple.

**MORE GASPS**

So no investigation into Trump’s ties to Russia is needed!!

President Trump said nothing classified!!!

If you believe that, I have a bridge for sale for you in New York City, and if you buy it today, I’ll throw in the Statue of Liberty in for free!!

CHEAP!!!!

The current President of the United States is digging a hole, deeper and deeper and the more he screams, “FAKE!!” the worst he makes himself look, I’d say even making himself look like a traitor to the country he’s suppose to be the leader of.

But what do I know, I’m a bear!

He won’t even reply to my requests for an interview but will allow Russian media folks into the Oval Office.

I now know how CNN feels!

It sucks!!!

I thought I’d never say this about a President of the United States, but, YOU MR. TRUMP SUCK ASS!!!!

There, I said it!!! And he can suck a fart outta my big bear ass!!!

Good night and have a better tomorrow!!!

 

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A “Bear” Review of Politics! Rob Quist VS. Greg Gianforte for the souls of Montana! Congressman too!!!

All eyes are on the State of Montana.

Why?

Montana has an open congressional seat sitting empty due to Ryan Zinke, the past Congressman, being chosen to lead Satan’s army or something.

Apparently, there’s three candidates running in this special election on Thursday May 25th, 2017 –

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1. Rob Quist: Democrat – A singer and song writer and killer of babies if you believe his opponent, and who doesn’t?

Bernie Sanders, the devil’s play toy, will be in my town of Butte, Montana next Saturday, May 20th, campaigning for Rob.

I’d like to be there but I finally got a job after almost a year with no job or hope.

Now, I have some hope, but my hero, will be in the same town as me and I can’t go to scream, “MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!!!” or something.

I get confused easily.

According to Greg Gianforte, his opponent, Rob doesn’t pay his bills or taxes.

“I paid! I paid!” Rob screams from the TV set then shoots it.

I haven’t listen to Rob’s music but right now, I’m listening to ABBA and that’s all that matters!!!

According to his opponent, Rob hasn’t had a fishing or hunting license in 16 years.

Dear Greg, neither have I but shhhh, I still go hunting and fishing!! Giggle!!

Just kidding, to any law enforcement agencies reading this, I obey the law and so does Rob!!

We no use dynamite to hunt and/or fish!!

God’s honest truth.

We heard Greg though uses live human bait to enhance his bear hunting experience!!

Bad Greg!!!

Hunting bears? ANIMAL!!!

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2. Greg Gianforte: Republican – We’re not sure exactly what Greg is doing nowadays but at some point he engineered which means, we’re assuming, he killed babies, if you listen to his opponent.

Now Greg stands patiently with his hands cross waiting to be elected to some public office.

Or a meteor to strike him dead.

According to his opponent, Rob Quist, Greg doesn’t pay his bills either!

“Do so! Do so!” and then shoots a TV set!

Apparently the cool thing to do is to shoot TV sets!

Donald Trump Jr. was in my home base of Butte, Montana yesterday aka Thursday the 11th and Vice President Pence is up north trying to get out the vote.

I wish Mike Pence would come to Butte.

I lived in Indiana from 1998 to 2013 and miss the old girl, he could bring that down to me.

And we could play corn hole.

Nobody here in Butte wants to play corn hole!!!

Not sure why, it’s a fun game with a horrible name apparently!

I was going to write a stance on each of these candidates but I won’t.

This candidate wanted a sales tax in the past but now, “I did not say that!! You stop with your fake news!! LIAR! LIAR! PANTS ON FIRE!!!”

Us here in Montana have voted against sales tax numerous times.

We don’t want one and those who advocate a sales tax can go to hell!!!

Or New Jersey!

Also, his stance on trying to deny access to public land is a put off for me, a public land fan.

Also Greg thinks it’d be nifty if we sold those public lands off to different companies, something I’m definitely against.

Sorry to my “Drill now!” fans.

Both candidates seemingly think we should go out hunting and fishing….FOR HUMANS!!!

Just kidding on the human part.

Or maybe not!!!

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3. Mark Wicks: Libertarian or maybe Librarian , we’re not sure! – And a third candidate, who we didn’t even know was running as we don’t see any of his ads on TV!!!

We don’t know if Mark pays his debt or shoots TV sets.

Libertarians, you need a media director, someone to make commercials for you.

Talking cats!!!

Nobody running for office uses talking cats!!

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Voice overHi! My name is Mark Wicks and I’m running for Congress! My opponents are dogs. No, seriously, they drool and everything. Go Google that! See? DOGS!! Do you want dogs running your political lives?

Of course you don’t!!!

You want a cat!! I’m that cat!!! Vote for me on May 25th!! Vote for those other guys on May 26th! Har! Har!!!

I’m a comedian too!!!

See me at Butte Civic Center July 12th!!

Bring a friend!!

We had to go to Mark’s campaign site to find out about him.

He’s a rancher!

We like ranchers.

He’s a writer!

We might be too!!

He’s a family man!

That means the mob right?

We HEART the mob!!

Dogs love him! (See pic above!!! that we stole from his website! Sorry Mark but some coverage is better than none which those other news organizations are doing!! Bad Fox News!! COVER MARK!!)

If we were allowed to vote(bears in Montana are not allowed to vote! UNFAIR!!! Bears now!! NO BEARS! NO PEACE!!!!) we’d vote for Mark!

Why?

He has a bear face and I bet he can shoot a TV screen with the best of them!

But since we can’t vote, we’re going to down a bottle of whiskey at the bar, maybe Uptown Butte, hope Bernie Sanders and VP Mike Pence will join us in a bi-partisan salute to freedom and the American way!!!

Ryan Zinke, you’re invited too!!!

So with all the facts on the table, who would we vote for?

A bottle of gin!

Who will probably win if the past is any indication? Greg Gianforte

Who will win if people decide shooting TV sets is wrong?

Bear-Grandfather-Mtn-Tim-Floyd-779608BEAR FOR CONGRESS!!!!!! 

Sorry Mark!!

We’ll endorse you though, just cause we like the dog!

And Rob, play us a song, and well, we’ll vote for you!!!!