Shower thoughts- when you have a stroke of genius while showering or bathing. Those moments really are frustrating. You could be sitting on the couch or any other dry spot, thinking clearly of random topics, and either the stupidest, most repulsive things slip into your head or you try so hard, nothing comes of it. But doesn't it seem like every time you're scrubbing down, you start thinking your best stuff? Of course pencil/pen and paper is useless in water, so you have no place to write this junk down, until you get out of the shower/bath, but most times, it's too late- you've forgotten the thought. I sometimes wish I had a personal scribe; someone to stand at the ready, to sought down a note or two. For instance, I was thinking something about Rush Limbaugh and how he's not a credible journalist or author; that most of the shit spewed from his mouth is worthless and incoherent smut nobody cares to hear in the first place, and if you ever watch him talk, you might notice left over Oxycodone flying from his lips like the acidic spittle and gibberish-jammer he emits. I was thinking this while walking to my car, yet, when I got home, after driving for 15 minutes, I couldn't remember much of anything because my mind was numb from thinking about this:

Limbaugh claims that volcanoes do more harm to the ozone layer than human-produced chemicals. He stated in his best-selling book, The Way Things Ought to Be : "Mount Pinatubo in the Philippines spewed forth more than a thousand times the amount of ozone-depleting chemicals in one eruption than all the fluorocarbons manufactured by wicked, diabolical and insensitive corporations in history.... Mankind can't possibly equal the output of even one eruption from Pinatubo, much less 4 billion years' worth of them, so how can we destroy ozone?"
He called concern about the ozone layer and other evironmental issues: "Balderdash. Poppycock." "The only people who worry about it are 'environmental wackos'," "dunderheaded alarmists and prophets of doom."
Dunderheaded? Who actually uses that word? I'll tell you who: rapists of intelligence, plundering, pill-popping, loose-jawed 'Punch'-puppets turned editorializers who evangelize their opinions like a devout Catholic would the Passion. Limbaughs of the world, that's who.
What happens after a volcano erupts? After the emission of ash and mountain debris? It rains. The air is polluted with the ash, creating a layer that blocks out the sun. It rains; it's not good rain- the rain is a variety of chemicals, from volcanic gases, made of steam mixed with carbon dioxide, sulfur dioxide, hydrogen sulfide, hydrogen, and/or fluorine, filter into the atmosphere, contaminating the air and groundwater, poisoning animals, killing plants, and causing breathing problems, but that's why you evacuate first. Why would you stay to breathe all that shit in, or be drowsed in that kind of rain? Only an idiot would stand with his or her mouth open, catching that rain in their gullet.
I think of a volcano as Mother-Earth's menstruation. No person wants to stare at a vagina as it leaks blood, so why stand in the middle of the disaster and get drenched in lava? You stand back from the devastation, knowing full well that if you get closer and closer to it, you are in more danger. Just like you stay a little bit of a distance away from a chick on her period. You never know when you might spring the trap and be murdered; you keep your fucking distance. As for saying volcanoes cause global warming, yeah, it's possible, but if mankind were to not release poison into the atmosphere, it would be a rare, friendly global warming, not the one thing that could tip the scales off balance. The rain and natural disasters after a volcano are what help cleanse the earth. Ash and water, I would think, would be a decent fertilizer.

On CNN today, I heard Rep. Patrick Kennedy, son of Massachusetts Sen. Ted Kennedy, crashed his car into a barricade on Capitol Hill last Thursday. He wasn't drinking or anything, he just out of the blue, smashed into a barricade. Ted Kennedy got in a wreck once himself. Chappaquiddick, Massachusetts...some backwoodsy pond he just had to drive his car into. The Kennedy's love water! Mary Jo Kopechne insisted Ted not go driving into ponds, but how could boozed up Teddy resist. Then, Teddy said Kopechne passed out or was dead after the wreck, when a certain Police diver John Farrar had this to report:

'It was not the position assumed by a person knocked unconscious by the impact of a crash (Mary's position in the car as she struggled for air in passenger's seat of the car...under water), Farrar said. "If she had been dead or unconscious, she would have been prone, sinking to the bottom or floating on top. She definitely was holding herself in a position to avail herself of the last remaining air that had to be trapped in the car."'

Those Kennedy's sure like wrecks! Teddy, John Jr., and now Pat. They also have a knack of getting involved with shootings...

Start the morning off...

Breakfast, the most important meal of the day. For average folks, it's the most notably skipped meal of the day. Eating in the morning? "But I've got papers to finish that I didn't want to do last night", "I've got to find time for a shower", "scavenging for clean clothes takes an hour as it is", "coffee....coffee.....coffee..." Breakfast has lost its importance. When I do get around to eating breakfast, it's a celebration! I seriously make having breakfast like the Macy's Day Parade. There is a fucking band marching in front of my car on the way to ordering a number 8 (that's the breakfast burrito combo meal) at McDonald's. Today, I skipped class to go to breakfast. My choice for the provider for the breakfast: Spangles. I wanted to try the breakfast burger; I had heard some place on the radio or the television about a slab of beef with a mixture of egg and tator tots poured over the top, two buns, and cheese because I know when I want a hamburger, I'm thinking, "I'd like tator tots and eggs on top of that instead of the usual veg. of lettuce, pickle, and tomato."
I reach for my wallet, and check on my cash situation; I've got $5. I reach for the change scattered in my clutter-fest of a car; I've got an additional 75 cents. That breakfast burger cannot be more than that. Of course, Spangles does not supply any kind of sign that speaks of this so-called "breakfast burger," so I have no idea if I just imagined this new breakfast item out of a drunken fancy or if it's real. I order the breakfast burger; just with its standard combo, and a Sierra Mist. The total was $7.28, I clearly did not have the where-with-all to purchase such an unexpected, expensive breakfast. I pull the "asshole" move and drive off.
Next resort, McDonald's. 10:31, and I get to the drive-thru. Order my number 8, with a small orange juice, and get answered with a question, "Do you realize we are now serving lunch?" The supposed cut-off time for breakfast at McDonald's is 10:30...I presume...I have no idea if it has changed or not to 10 a.m. I am forced to drive off again because of a minute lapse in the cut-off time.
Now, I'm looking for the "prostitute" of breakfast-serving fast food venders. It's the last ditch effort. I know I want fucking breakfast and I want it now...if I wanted regular lunch fast food, I wouldn't have skipped class. So I go to Sonic, America's drive-thru.
I get the fast-talker order-taker. "May I take your order?" "Yeah, I want a breakfast burrito combo...(before I even finish)" "Tots with that?" "...ah....yes...." "What't'ya wanta drink?" "Sierra Mist" "Sprite fine?" Why wouldn't it be? It's the same fucking drink...the lime-flavored soft drink. 'FUCK SIERRA MIST! HOW DARE YOU ASSUME I WANT THAT SHIT IN MY STOMACH...JUST BUBBLING LIKE ACID, MAKING MY INSIDES A CAULDRON OF HELL!!!' "Y'total $3.20. Thanks."
I'm on the verge of complaining. I do not feel happy because I wanted to SonicSize that bitch, and this lady talked too fast and I didn't get my words in. I notice at this time the outside entrance to the restroom. I already have to use the restroom, but I'm not sure about this restroom. Sonic just made these restrooms available to the public like two years ago. Before doing so, Sonic never had a restroom. It didn't make sense for this chain of restaurants to have an outdoor picnic area for people who don't want to eat in their cars, and not have a public restroom, unless they decided they'd much rather fertilize their shrubbery with their customer's urine.
Out the door of the restroom, comes this employee of Sonic. He looks like he's made the restroom spotless, so customers would have a third option of where they'd like to eat- the floor of the outdoor restroom facility. I start thinking, "Wouldn't it be great, while conversing with this employee, if he would tell me that he was the head cook in the kitchen of the Sonic, and was doing this as a favor to the manager." A cook cleaning restrooms...
I don't know if anyone remembers this, but in Hutchinson, Kansas, and parts of Wichita, Kansas, Sonic had a huge ordeal where a bunch of customers complained of contracting hepatitis after eating at the restaurant chain. This would answer everything. Cooks, forced to handle fecal and other waste-matter while cleaning the restrooms, don't wash up afterwards, and spread hep. to their customers. It would be a huge scandal. In fact, the person complaining, might end up being awarded a huge sum of money and some major deals at the restaurant chain. I was getting pretty antsy at this moment, and ended up hearing the fast-talker order-taker lady screwing up the delivery of my meal with a vehicle two/three cars down. All I wanted was breakfast...I'd take any breakfast serving vender in town, just as long as I got eggs and sausage. A twenty minute ordeal spread out to the sum of an hour. How tragic...

The Border-hopper's Fiasco

I don't like taking people's names. It just never has been in my favor. Take, for instance, this girl Channon's botch-job I did on her name. I heard her say "C-h," but my hands were already at work spelling Channon S-h-a-n-n-o-n, my understood spelling of the name. And her eyes lit up like fire when she witnessed my mistake. And I kept the name that way, too...just to be a prick.

Hot issue for the past couple of weeks and a month, has been the issue of immigration. Last time I checked, we had a closed border. I guess when you say closed, you really mean opened. What's the deal with taking out tax dollars to pay border patrol agents, and not enforcing the law on illegal immigration? If legislation is passed to allow illegal immigrants a green card and a fruit basket, with the tag, "Congratulations! You're an American," our country has lost principle. Don't give me that jive about how our country was formed by immigration. The key note in this ordeal is whether or not an immigrant's passage into this country was legal or was this immigrant's ride in a trunk? Those steamliner days when all you'd have to do to become an American citizen was to hitch a ride as a coal shoveler, then get your mouth finger-molested by a doctor at Ellis Island, is long gone and passed. You can't expect to hop the border, get a job at some Wal-mart in Corpus Christi, Texas, and become a red-blooded American living the American dream. That's illegal. Free immigration- free isn't a word anymore in America.
Try clicking on a pop-up on the internet that says free iPod if you click this site. Soon, your screen has transformed into an entry form, asking for name, address, social security number, credit card number, your mom's maiden name...a green card is as free as that! Don't ever expect anything else.
You can't go into another country scot-free. So why try and demand that treatment? The only reason why our country was formed on a principle to welcome all, was because back then, we had incurable diseases like influenza, typhoid, tuberculosis...we didn't expect any immigrant to live too much longer once you set foot in our cesspool. If we make it free of charge to come into this country, we'd never have enough brown people to work the jobs we hate to do.

"Sorry, Carlos, but the shitter isn't cleaning itself...and I'm sure as hell not going to pay you a decent wage to clean toilets either. Take your two dollars, and shove it!"

We can't have "real" Americans cleaning their own shit. Take a long look at slavery. We don't call it slavery anymore because we pay the right colored people to do the work now, minus the beatings. The only work a "real" American has to do is lift his/her pen to sign off checks. Then, it's an afternoon at the spa or a nice round of golf to waste precious afternoon time, ending it all with a nice screw with the mistress, or yell at the television because a "real" American has no idea how to work a remote.
So free immigration? You must be out of your fucking mind! And that's all there is to it.

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