Archive for the ‘MAKE MONEY FAST!’ Category

Every so often, I get a friend request on Facebook, I know I shouldn’t accept, they always lead to heart break, cut down too soon before they are executed or something.

They always start out the same, I hit accept, and a few minutes later, there’s a message, HELLO! HOW ARE YOU? MY NAME IS ______! I am happy to meet you!

99.9 percent of the time, the conversation soon turns.

“Do you have Hangout?”

I don’t. I should add that to my profile but these folks never ever read the profile, they just want to get to the romance quickly.

Today’s love of the moment is Tsegay Araya.

She and I were destined to be, but Facebook is a jealous monster and well, you shall see in our conversation.

Her messages are in the red, mine are in blue.

Chat Conversation Start 

You’re friends on Facebook 

Lives in Washington D.C. 

8:52 AM 

Hello how are you doing today? 

Just awful. How about you? 

Am fine nice to meet you and where are you from 

The moon. Where are you from? 

Am from Washington Dc 

And you are you happy married with kids? 

Very cool. No kids, or married, I semi-not suicidal. How about? Married with kids? 

Am single never been married? 

How old are you? 


What do you mean 

That’s my age. How old are you? 


I’m old. Like millions of years old. nodding You are cute. 


What do you do for a living? 

I am an assassin. You? 

Am doing my nursing service 

Have you ever been dated online before 

Oh my yes. Met the love of my life online, Banana, but she split on me. How about you? 

You the only person i have meeting here am new person here how long have you been here 

Very long time, I forget, been online for billions of years, since the early days, when chat was pure text and cybersex was orange juice on a stick. So are you looking for dating and more? 

Am looking for a serious relationship 

Me too! Me too! So do you believe in long, prolonged deprivation of the senses? 

Are you on hangout? 

Yes are you on hangout? 

*Her profile was removed because of verification before I could respond – “TAKE ME NOW YOU FOOL!!!” Stupid Facebook* 

And hence ended that love story, it was quick but very sweet. Till next time…I am…..ME!!!!


Living on cheap wine and Marlon Brando, sweet wine, the stuff would make you want to die, throwing up on some lonely street corner, fifth and Vine.

Worlds were colliding, forced into making up, out, fucked, before being fucked was a thing.

July 5th, I found life on this shit hole planet, not much to write home about, two girls, Jim and Jan, maybe one was a guy, I wasn’t sure as the motley crew of drugs I had taken back in the city were starting to wear off.

“Recharge Mort! Refuckingcharge!” Dave, my travel companion and tax attorney was screaming from the back seat of the car we had stolen back in town.

I tried to remember if I was driving or if the imaginary bunny we had brought along was.

Turned out, nobody was, we were head up, ass down, in some parking lot in front of some dying casino known as the Flying J according to the blinking flashing sign.

“Bell hop!! Our bags!” I said snapping my fingers randomly, towards a midget nearest the door.

He smiled as he flipped us off and we climbed out of the car and into the casino/hotel/bordello.

We got two rooms, one bed, we wouldn’t be sleeping anyways, this was a business trip, to find that meaning of life, in the desert town of where ever we found ourselves.

“Do we have enough drugs?” Dave asked peeking into the large over-sized suitcase we had brought on this adventure.

“We got madness man, pure madness!” I replied popping two red pills and downing them with cheap Canadian beer bought from a Mexican farmer in some backwater town in Alabama.

I don’t remember much after the madness kicked in.

Blurry vision of me, Dave stumbling down the stairs, to the lobby, where the whores stood in line.

“We are not whores dear sir!” one fat ugly whore rambled on.

We weren’t here for the whores, we were here to find the story, the big story, the senator slinking his wet willy into a whore who wasn’t his wife.

Or maybe we were here to kill ourselves.

Dave was hoping for the senator.

He was here to keep me from going too far over the edge, or maybe I was here to keep him from going too far over the edge.

Neither of us knew what the other was for.

We took another hand full of pills.

Crazy mix of colors, for a random effect, later that night we found ourselves in the desert, chasing after pigeons, to communicate with our spirit animal.

I woke up three days later, face down, on some railroad tracks, last train left according to the locals in 1963.

I was 40 years too late, 50 if you knew how to count.

Dave was laying into a plate of hash brown potatoes and puke at some dingy truck stop.

He had left me to die there, hoping I wouldn’t wake up too soon but there I was, asking the waitress for a plate of goo and a cup of coffee to mask the taste of bourbon I was now dumping into a cup of black moldy coffee.

“Honey, you want some eggs and toast?” the waitress burped, fire ants crawling out of her nose.

I shook my head and popped a handful of rainbow colored pills.

“When do we get to Tucson?” I tried to make conversation with Dave who seemingly had left his body to go find a place to take a piss.

“Man, we ain’t going to Tucson!” he finally said, three hours later, as we traveled down the road, the steering wheel being steered by a bat we picked up in Cleveland.

The sign read ‘Truth or Consequences 25 miles’ we didn’t want neither of that so we roared past the turn off, into some purple haze that drifted up from the road, engulfing us in fumes.

“Man where are we going?” Dave looked around trying to get his sense of time and space, the drugs beginning to loosen their gripe.

“Here, take these!” I said throwing him a bag of colored pills I had gotten from my grandmother, a doctor. “You’re losing your reality! We’re heading into badger country man, don’t lose your wits!! They’re animals!!”

35 miles down the road, I lost my mind, it fell out of my ears and dripped onto the highway, trying to crawl out in the desert to find life.

“Oh no you don’t!” I said shoving it back into my head.

We were back on the road, after taking a long needed piss and a scratch.

An over-sized badger strolled up beside us.

“Is this leak taken?”

We all laughed.

It was half past a monkey’s ass by the time we reached Tucson.

A seedy place, Tucson, the kind of place where men are men and the sheep are afraid to pick up the soap.

We were suppose to meet my editor, Jackson, in Tucson, but he never showed.

He gave me some story about being 2 am, showering, sleeping, who the fuck knew.

I hung up the phone.

“So what do we do now?”Dave asked, lining up the coke in neat piled lines, snorting it straight into his spleen.

I shrugged, grabbing a straw, we’d worry about the next day, three days later, and ten whores down.

August 25th, 2019 – 10,000 miles below the Earth’s surface or maybe Rapid City, South Dakota

Hello and greetings my beautiful readers, I hope all is well with you on this Sunday morning.

I usually write a poem around 2 am and post it with glee but today decided to write a rambling piece at 9:45 am, and maybe, just maybe make someone who needs it glad to be alive.

I’m glad to be alive myself.


Sure, beats the other options.

“Being dead?”

Yeah, so anyways, what’s inside my head?

Chocolate pudding.

I don’t know what is going on in the news.

I stopped watching that mess of an atomic train wreck.

I guessing the world is still there, I haven’t checked yet.

*Goes outside, looks, comes back*

Yep, still there.

Glad too. Was kinda worried.

United States lately has been having a tendency in pissing off countries such as Canada.

How do you piss of a Canadian?

Call them a moose tucker!!


Anyways, this is today’s blog, hope you enjoyed!

If not, go tuck yourself!!!

Good night and have a better tomorrow.

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,


Louisville, KY — October 11th, 2018

I’ll freely admit, I really suck at writing titles, I mean, I’m just horrible at it.

I feel that some folks on this here Internet thingy are good at writing “Click bait” worthy titles but are also horrible at writing really bad “worthy” titles.

Click bait is when someone places a title such as MAN WHO KILLS HIMSELF GETS 50 YEARS IN JAIL in an attempt to lure someone into “Clicking” the article and instead of getting the gory details, they get like a recipe for a really good chocolate cake.

Or jack poo!

Basically today, you’re getting jack poo!!


Usually on this blog, I share my poetry, but today, I’m just not feeling that “poetry” or really even that “Writable” in the serious sense of the word.

Again, my apologies.

I was inspired to write this blog today by some titles on this very site,


I didn’t click on it because such stories just do not interest me.

Sometimes, as I cruise the YouTube, I’ll find the urge to click on an obvious attempt at “Click Bait”, sex sells as they say in the moving picture show business and man, am I disappointed.

It just some kid playing a video game and talking like a 12 year old kid would know about life.

Unless you were a singer in a 1950s boy band who had to grow up fast before he was 12 years old, you don’t know life.

Hell, I don’t know life, and I’m 47.

I sit here in my living room, with my lap top on my lap, and I write like I know stuff.

I know enough to get out of bed without plowing face first into the wall.

That’s it, and sometimes, I’ll admit, I don’t even get that right.

Face first.

Into the wall!!


So anyways, that’s my blog for today!!!

Good night and have a better tomorrow!!

(I’ll try to do better than!!!)




August 30th, 2018 – Somewhere in the living room

It’s almost the last day of August, one more day of what we consider the days of summer, as we move into fall, then, with just a blink, it’ll be winter time.

It seems like only yesterday it was the beginning of 2018 and now, we’re past the midpoint, heading fast into the end.

Where the hell does the time go?

Anyways, I know I usually write a poem and post it here but I went to bed way too early for me; 7 pm, I saw my head hit the pillow before my usual time of like 2 am.

This means I was up by 2 am and with the cable company trying to resolve a major issue, means, no TV between 2 am and 6 am.

What does that mean to you?

I feel like writing something here; but no poem right now, maybe later.

Every so often, I get in the mood to just write, random stuff, my long time readers know this as EEK!! HE’S OFF HIS MEDS!!

So here I sit, at 4:42 in the morning, the laptop on my lap and my fingers gliding over the keys (sometimes hitting the backspace a few times as I misspelled THE tge!) in an attempt to amuse myself so I don’t go running outside screaming THE BRITISH ARE COMING!!!! which scares the neighbors enough for them to call the police.

I should write a better title, something like click bait, like DISCOVER HOW TO MAKE MILLIONS OF DOLLARS JUST BY READING THIS BLOG!!! (I just went back up and readded this to the title!!! )

I remember reading a “How to make $$$ fast by blogging” years ago, when I first started and the blogger, some Doctor of Business and Stuff, stated that the title was the most important factor in growing your blog into a huge success.

I am going to admit, I suck at titles and tags and such.

I try to go with content but I fail at that as well.

Damn my inability to make good content.

I just like to write or ramble on about nothing in particular, it keeps me out of the loonie bin.

To be truthful, I’ve been rambling on for most of my life.

Some have told me, I’m a good writer, but I’ve never seen that, my self esteem won’t allow me to be too nice to myself.

But only recently (well, 2008) did I start sharing my writings with the world, AKA placing them on a blog.

I do like to scare the natives though so it has worked out for me as long as I don’t become too popular and people expect me to appear on national TV.

I’d break the world’s TV!

(Psst. Not really!! CBS, call me!! Lets do lunch!!!)


Course, online, nobody knows that you’re really a french bulldog blogging as a cat and seriously, I don’t think anyone really cares.

They just want to be entertained, to read about the lives of people, even if it’s as boring as


On a now defunct blogging site, I tested this theory out by creating THE MOST BORING BLOG IN THE WORLD with such tidbits as the above as well as I WENT POTTY AT 12:45 PM!

I got enough followers to make $37!!

I think I used the money to buy snacks.

Very tasty snacks!

Anyways, I think I’ve rambled enough to make this blog postable!! I hope you enjoyed!! If not, there’s always Yahoo!!