Archive for the ‘Random stuff–read at your own risk!’ Category

dude-wait-what-stoned-kitty-pedro-8122726Today seems like a good day to write about something positive, to skip over such icky subjects like homeless people, Political crap and other misfits trying to rule the world, natural disasters at a seemingly increasing level but we all know that climate change is a myth, and other crap hitting the media door right now.

So today, my friends, I decided to write about happy butterflies but apparently Google thinks happy butterflies equals stoned kitties and why not.

I wish I was stoned right now.

It would help in my writing, like:

FOLLOWERS, TO THE READY, LET US DEFEND OUR DEFENSELESS POSITIONS ON THINGS, WE ARE YOUR NIGHTMARE DRESSED IN PRETTY DREAMS, TO ARMS! TO ARMS!!

I don’t really feel like writing poetry or a serious posts, though, those do get hits from my general followers and Google searchers alike.

Hi Google searchers, how are you?

Fine?

Awesome!! Me too!!!

“Really?”

Yes I am!! I overdosed my diet Coke with many shots of energy stuff at the soda fountain and am feeling awesome.

“Awesome!”

Course, I made the mistake of turning over to the news and well, my buzz is still going, thank you very much!!!

So anyways, glad you’re still breathing and I am too!!!

Good night and have a better tomorrow, your friend,

ME!

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Bear-Grandfather-Mtn-Tim-Floyd-779608

Bear was bored so today, he decided to call The President aka Donald “The Tweet” Trump, the 45th President of the United States of the Fucking America!!!

“Hello? Is this THE PREZ?”

“It sure is!!!! Who is this?”

“This is Bear!!”

10-donald-trump-debate.w750.h560.2xAfter some polite chit chat and exchanging recipes for salmon stew vs. Trump’s delicious crow pie, we began the interview with some hard hitting questions!

Bear: What inspired you to run for President?

Trump: Good question, to the meat of the issue without striking bone in the first round, waiting for the next question for the kill shot. The best!!

Well, let me reply in like by giving you the best answer ever.gop-2016-trump

The people, out there, chanting MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!! That inspired me to not only run but to win, I am the Choice that the American people made and wanted.

Bear: Actually Mr. President, you lost the popular vote and won by the Electoral vote.

Trump: FAKE NEWS! FAKE NEWS!!! I STILL WON!!! I AM THE PEOPLES’ PRESIDENT!!!! Next question!

Bear: Okay, who are your heroes, living or dead?

china_trump_trademarks_70301-jpg-f8dba_550679227a1881ca317cb1375afd41ef.nbcnews-ux-2880-1000Trump: Again, great question, thank you for this opportunity to get to the meat of the issue, to delve into my, better regions of my personality.

Bear: You’re welcome.

Trump: My heroes have always been the outsiders, the men and women who stand outside the box, draining the swamp, and keeping America great, not like that Prez Obama who, my sources say, great sources, just the best, wasn’t even born in this country, but in a place called Hawaii!!

Bear: Uhm, Hawaii is a state sir.

Trump: NO IT’S NOT!!! NO IT’S NOT!! FAKE NEWS!!! Next you’ll try to tell me New Mexico is a state!

Bear: It is.

gop-2016-trumpTrump: LIAR!!!!! LIBERAL MEDIA FRONT TRYING TO RUIN ME!!!! SECOND STRIKE!!! ONE MORE, AND YOU’RE OUTTA HERE!!!!

Bear: Okay, some people are calling you a racist ass wipe and that you should be impeached.  Your reply.

Trump: I can say I am not a racist nor an ass wipe! I pee standing up!!! My gardener happens to be colored!

Bear: Uh, think calling them “Colored” is a racist term sir,

Trump: IS NOT! IS NOT!!! FAKE NEWS!!! FAKE NEWS!! THIS INTERVIEW IS OVER!!!!

The phone went dead and Bear was left with five more questions unanswered.

  1. What kind of pie do you like?
  2. Do you like pussy cats?
  3. What color is the sky in your world?
  4. Briefs or boxers
  5. Who wrote the Book of Love?

Guess we’ll never know.

Senator Mitch McConnell apparently takes long bathroom breaks as he was unavailable every time we called him.

Stay tune next week when we interview a drunk at the bus stop we met today!!!

 

 

 

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.

Heaven be her name – The Story of Destiny

I keep thinking I’m making headway in this thing called life but then the waves come crashing down.

I come up for a breath, feeling the blessed air coming into my lungs, but there, again, the monster waves hit me, hard, pushing me to the bottom, scraping my body against the coral reef, where am I?

Nowhere, going fast, up one minute, kick to the face, down, counting, 1, 2, 3, do I wanna get up again or stay down for the count?

The bets are coming in, I’m staying down, but nope, my dumb ass gets back up.

Why?

I’m a winner!

I laugh at that, my inner demon does, I’m no winner, I’m a big fat loser!

I’m trying to stay alive, well enough, I think, until I look in the mirror, standing there, bloody, broken, ready to give in.

“I love you!” she, the one in my corner, even though I’m insane.

I keep going because and for her.

“What’s her name?”

Destiny.

Heaven be her name….

How I love thee, in a previous life even,
I whisper thy name during those times,
I think I can not go on,
There you are,
A shimmering light against the encroaching darkness…

The dragons invade my sleep, the crazy, hello insanity, you try to keep me sane, I am slipping into madness…..hello dear friend, how are you this fine and wonderful evening?

I am dead inside.

Opening old and new wounds!

What is reality?

A dream placed into real life?

Is that the definition?

Dear one, I shall keep walking till the end, tomorrow shall never come!

…a battered soul, a spirit lost to the midnight hour, the world spinning out of control, set to destroy. Warning to those who dare think to enter this land, only death shall follow…

lights-1254324_960_720.jpgA misery inside, a passionate fire put out before a fiery rage, a scream into the moonlight, close my eyes, do not let me die here, in this broken place, wake me up from this nightmare.

I stood at the edge, my eyes gazing into the starry skies, the Gods stood by, waiting to see what fate decided, suicide of a worthless soul, his spirit to disappear from everything.

The endless nights, the beast prowled, the silence of the dead dying on sheets in crypts made of marble.

“Craw….” the words echoed from my dying throat. I could not see, just hear the voices in the winds, her scent drifted into what was left of my brain.

The Goddess, the madness, she was there, not as a vision, a dream, but flesh and blood, a person.

I wanted to call out her name, but my voice was gone, ripped out and stolen by the crow, Master and Mistress, to the wind, to the time, it was nothing but a fantasy, strangely ripped from the pages of time.

The city had been built, a perfect place, filled with perfect people, but destroyed by imperfect solutions.

Towering buildings, golden, rusting in the sands, bridges destroyed, crumbling into the mighty seas.

The Guardians, the beasts, trying to guard this horror, kept watch, killing those few who made it through the defenses and the gates, the world was not ready for the truth.

It had to be spared the horror.

 

Mired in misery, the waters, the lands, the air became poison, killing all.

They who dared to enter the arena, the dead world, were killed, the memories of them erased…

 

We run away into the night,
Our pain, our memories,
Our suicides…

I did not know where to go, down the streets of memories and pain or into future loves.

Future loves could lead to the greatest, the best, or the horrible.

I had both, a great time of “I will love you forever!” and then it explode without a reason besides “I’m, confused!”

Confusion can equal many things such as “I met someone else, he better than you!” to “I just hate you!!”

Memories are triggers for hate.

No, I can’t figure it out yet.

“I didn’t mean I loved you, I meant, well forget what I meant….”

I’m confused too!!

I have to get you out of my mind, you are no longer available, a vision, a dream, not even.

So here I sit, alone, feeling insignificant inside my brain, like a burning candle, dwindling forever, leaving flowers at the grave, leaving sounds and sights inside my brain, memories poisoning my life.

I feel your presence, I wonder if you feel the same, do you hear my name?

I bet you don’t, I probably meant nothing to you, just a joke, not even a ghost in the machine.

Here I sit, in my world, how can I see into your soul anymore, like I did those days? You were my everything, you told me I was your days and nights, till that day, then I became nothing, a thing to throw away.

I cannot even say anything negative as my friend says you are the best.

You aren’t.

You took what little heart I had and stomped on it.

I cannot even say your name without throwing up.

I cannot say anything negative about you as my mind will not allow it, even it is against me, tells me you are a good person.

I sit here wondering what I did wrong.

 

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!!!