Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Dogs In Shadow

Murderous Puppies
 Pictured here are the dogs that were trying to kill their brother.

Monday, July 30, 2012

Bongo Freak


It's hard work keeping my head above the shit but the sun shone down on this dog's ass just when I needed it most. I was sleeping outside the salvation army shelter, slapping mosquitoes from my aching ankles, feeling that life would look up but otherwise spinning my wheels as I pondered how I would get to Mexico.

Thursday, July 26, 2012

No Good News

I've made the mistake of reading the news lately according to CNN spin masters. It's very grim and I must learn that I'm not emotionally mature enough to read propaganda. The outdoor advertising, endless war, mass shootings, college football scandals. It's almost choreographed so that a pretty gymnast will sprain her ankle in London and manage to become the media darling and an audible sigh of relief will be heard. It's bait and switch in media land and the bread for the circus audience is running in short supply. I'm puzzled by it all because it doesn't seem real or it seems surreal and staged along with advertising and exposed cruelties. The media factory has a tight grip on our collective emotions or at least it's got a rusty hook in my cheek that I can't shake.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

JJ's Words of Wisdom Part II

"Maybe you make the blood spill into the other dude's boots, just to fuck with him."
JJ, describing pranks on the slaughterhouse floor with a twinkle in his eye.

I was privileged to get a private performance of life on the slaughterhouse floor. It really did the trick of removing any desire I had to participate in that process. I think when JJ lit his joint up and toked a bit and launched into his story I was the happiest I'd been in months. I thought, "This is the good stuff. This is priceless."

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Liberty

Someone once said, "I do not fear death, I fear life without liberty." and that's how I've been feeling lately. I went downtown to the demoralized empty storefronts of Corpus and played my hymns on Sunday. And the only people were the gray faced drunks waiting for a handout to buy a tapped beer from the early morning bar called "Cheers". Or maybe they'd buy a 24 oz can at the only remaining market nextdoor. There's a bachelor apartment where queers and depressed men fiddle with their window AC units while they wait for their kids to call (their kids never call because their ex wife, the bitch, has turned them against him). And I played and for a while I thought someone was watching me and enjoying it but it turned out to be a curtain that looked like a person's shoulders. No one gave me money but everyone wanted to buy my Vespa Ciao.

JJ's Words of Wisdom

"A closed mouth doesn't get fed."
JJ

My buddy JJ got out of jail a few weeks ago in New Mexico. He was arrested for capital murder, kidnapping, torture, theft by deception and hindering an investigation. There were some other drug charges that were immediately thrown out when the attorneys started haggling over coffee. JJ finally was found guilty of wrongful imprisonment and and accessory to torture. He spent 9 years in jail but likes to say it was 10 because he spent three years before his trial even was held. 7 years was spent in solitary confinement, maximum security with 20 minutes to go to a yard and jog in place where he could see a cloud or two through a window at the top of a wall.

"I'm 60 years old. I won't fight you. I'll knife you and drag your guts through the dirt." (JJ swiftly pantomimes gutting a man, but winces when his hernia scar stretches)
JJ

Saturday, July 21, 2012

Drama in Paradise

The Salvation Army meal last night was some kind of meat patty covered with cheese. The milk had an expiration date of July 13, a week ago. The jug wasn't bloated but the milk made my eyes water when I put it in my mouth. I'm not being ungrateful because it's more than most Christians have done on my behalf. I merely want to describe my days as they happen because I feel alive and I feel surrounded by real people with character and troubles and limps and arthritis. There is no subterfuge or manipulations. I can handle pain but I can't tolerate ulterior motives. I prefer my bunkmates to the pretense of the Cosmopolitan world. I need authenticity to survive and the Salvation Army is real. There are no petty complaints here about politics or minor scratches in paint. We don't argue over small details like spoiled milk. The paper plates fold over and become useless but no one complains.

Friday, July 20, 2012

And Fuck You Temp Agencies

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Gun Control Means Using Both Hands

I'll tell you that when I went cowboy hat shopping I was one of only three people in the entire store who wasn't wearing a Glock 9 semiautomatic handgun on a waist holster. I mean, seriously, almost everyone carries a handgun in Texas. And I did not feel the least bit afraid because you can instantly look at someone with a $100 cowboy hat and a holster that cost more than my van and know he's not wasting any bullets unless a punk with a video game fantasy wants to test his luck in a real life shooting gallery. The crossfire would be bad but there will be one or two casualties and not two dozen. And I promise that the trial will be postmortem.

Are you mentally Ill? Take this test...


Answer this simple question...your nation's crops are about to utterly collapse due to anthropomorphic climate change. You:
A) Stock up on Ben & Jerry's ice cream because prices will probably go up.
B) Call congressman because it must have something to do with the potholes in the highway.
C) Dust the bicycle off to reduce fuel consumption and pollution
D) Not a damn thing.

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Living In Hell



The cockroaches were only outnumbered by the maggots
I will see your Nasal Myasis and raise you one set of multiple personalities and severe depression.

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Cycles

The actual B&J Pizza Slice used in the video
                                                        Hint: Keep pressing 7 if you want to hear the funny part over and over.

My days are basically like doing the most complicated mechanical repair on the side of a busy road on the hottest day of the year...while dealing with the most annoying policeman asking what you are doing and searching you for drugs. The stress eventually bubbles over into rants like this. I wanted to learn what America is really about and I've learned and I don't like the answer and it makes no difference. No medals and no congratulations. Merely blunt orders to get off the property and ignorant people who never left their chicken coop telling me I'm wrong about everything. hahaha.

Monday, July 16, 2012

Tickled

  I really hope that's the last time I see this bearing
My hands are crippled and my back is ruined from doing this work in a gravel parking lot. But it's unavoidable and it's for a purpose that I understand and it was within my means. This is all part of the seemingly contradictory principle of simplicity which basically hoards all the complexity that normally would be spooned out to service workers.

What is round...







 I was spinning in circles trying to solve a riddle on my van.
What is round and has a hole in it but doesn't let oil through?

Saturday, July 14, 2012

Spoof

I was going to write a parody press release announcing that "Now Everything On Denny's Menu Is Chicken Flavored!"

Excreta

Oggy Bleacher Laws Criminalize Poverty

A Closer Walk With Thee


This is street begging and I don't like to do this anymore but times are hard so I reached a compromise and will only sing gospel and hymns on the street. The best part is saying, "God Bless You" when someone gives me money (no one gives me money).

Thursday, July 12, 2012

By The Way, Asshole

If you don't like Spanish being spoken then don't live in Texas. Move to Vermont. They love Texans there and everyone speaks perfect English and all the signs are in English so you'll feel right at home in Barre or Northfield. And that goes for fuckwads in Arizona, too. If you don't want cultural diversity then move to Provo, Utah because you are an asshole if you think some legislation is going to render your state as culturally homogenous as Disneyland. Sorry, your gates won't work because the only saps who will accept $7 to patrol your community on Segway carts will be Mexicans. Move to Berlin, NH. I was there two years ago and no one spoke Spanish. Don't put a fucking Chinese made "America: Love It Or Leave It" bumper sticker on your Toyota truck and then croak up through your gullet that you are sick of Spanish. If you don't like bilingual Texas or Arizona then get the fuck out. Chinga Puta De Madre.

It's like a tangential but philosophically related topic of my quest for good pizza. I went to a place called B&J pizza here in CC as part of my recovery program from the Gulf Oil Syndrome sickness.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Moe

A picture is worth a thousand words but they don't allow cameras on minimum wage tickets from day labor halls. So Let me tell you about Moe. He was in the hall when I walked in, drooped in a plastic lawn chair. I thought he was trouble. He's a black dude and he looked rough around the edges. Kortney told me I'd be driving him to the Port-o-Pot job site.
"Fuck," I thought.
Then I met Michael who had use of only one hand and was pretty mentally retarded but with a good attitude. Me, Moe and Michael. Great. Three stooges.
Then Two other guys who were both drug felons down on their luck arrived and the five of us climbed in the van and I thought, "This is so fucking horrible. I'm actually driving these people in my van? And I'm trying to get paid to do a job? This can't be real. There is be no way I'd be less safe in Mexico."
Oh, people are so full of advice about finding work, they croak like toads in the moonlight but their ignorance of even the basic circumstances are quantum physics to their Elmo eyes.

Satire

Juvenal was a roman satirist from long long ago. He wrote that "It's hard not to write satire." meaning that the era he lived in was so totally out of sync with what his conscience demanded that literally nothing fit or made sense in any logical frame. He could only make sense of it as a cosmic joke of man. "If we could only see ourselves..." he must've thought and so he tried to create a mirror.
"There is no sabbath," complained Thoreau who wasn't devout but did see an alarming rate of activity without any filter of restraint in 1840. The seams of America had burst and within 20 years, before he died, coast to coast changes would totally remap the continent, urged on by a mass mentality or hysteria.

Elie Wiesel Surprises Public

Noted Holocaust survivor and Noble Peace Prize winning author Elie Wiesel surprised his publisher and his fans by announcing the release of a new book of humorous essays about internet dating and a young adult novel that follow the ups and downs of a teen zombie looking for love.
Wiesel, 83, said of the release of the books, "I let my hair down. Why not? I'll be honest, the merchandising royalties were a big part of [his abrupt change in writing topics]. Action figure sales for the Night/Dawn/Day trilogy are not exactly gangbuster," Wiesel joked.
Wiesel, author of critically acclaimed humanist novels such as Night and The Jews of Silence continued, "I'm not downplaying the Holocaust. Don't get me wrong. I've got several strong works planned on that subject. But writers need to adapt, fight out of our weight class once in a while, so to speak."
Digital Drama ,the internet dating essay collection and Call Me Zombie are due to be released on Halloween to coincide with a fireworks display and haunted house Wiesel's new public relations representative, Kim Kardhasian, has scheduled.
"We're gonna rock the house," exclaimed Ms. Kardashian as she spanked herself on her broad ass. "It's gonna be awesome!"

Bread And Circus

Lyrics:
Chord: C/F/C/G
Bread and Circus

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Fuck You BP



The Deepwater Horizon claims another victim. I could describe to you the 3 days I just spent with brown pudding coming out of my ass and shivering in the 95 degree heat and sweating poison from my brow as my penis shriveled to the size of an acorn and the vomit consisting of first, ramen noodles from a day ago and then mango from three days ago and then pure stomach acid and gatorade drink mix that I had drunk moments earlier.

Friday, July 6, 2012

When Safety Nets Capture

"The fight is never about grapes or lettuce. It is always about people. "
Cesar Chavez


I feel an agrarian revolution is not only required but is imminent. I love reading Forbes Magazine for the self-satisfied interviews of bright people who molded themselves perfectly into the insulated, blind, fool on hill paradigm of Modern America and make six and seven figure salaries basically shuffling decks of digital cards so other people (web site owners) can read the information and decide what works on their dog sweater website. So, basically you can make a million dollars by being several steps removed from actual tangible skills and products. (some might say, that's the only way to make a million dollars.)  These are not jobs, they are gimmicks that will exist for a blink of an eye before we realize they have no value. These phony CEOs go to the store, buy 3 mangoes for a dollar and probably complain when the milk goes up a dime for every gallon. Those days are going to be short lived and I don't need to hire a financial forecaster to tell me that because common sense would tell you that spreadsheets are not as tangible as cotton. (Yeah, economists will argue differently because their job is on the line but I'm not fooled) The trick has always been a moral slight of hand that decreases the value of a mango farmer and elevates the value of internet commerce analysis (I really hope I live to see the day this hoax is exposed). I've really pondered why that is true and it basically comes down to the fact that most people don't actually want to live honestly by their own means and so they rationalize their own superficial careers to justify an exploitation of farmers and farm workers, honest people of the earth who produce tangible and required products, whose common sense prevents their entry into flim flam currency trading or the hedge fund black hole. (That sense isn't a flaw, it's an asset that think tank employees have defined as a flaw in propaganda.) That rationalization snowballs into a mass movement of exploitation and then into a vortex of cause and effect that produces systemic poverty (that requires billion dollar doctoral research groups to understand) and so on until the basic cause (lazy smart people) is completely buried in a pile of research papers and decades of accusations until the poor mango farmer is the "lazy dumb person" in the eyes of society. And that's the natural progression of an astounding lie: the Board of Irony defines the opposite as true and defends it with glossy think tank lies.

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Unpopular Science

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Bandit Country

Profiles in conformity
In order to blend in I have tried to find a costume that the locals can accept. They don't sell top of the line palm hats like this at the gas station and you'll have to wait to see me wearing what I call my "Ronald Reagan Pants" which are officially called "Ranch Jeans" made of stretchy polyester and better fitting than denim. With my stooped and shuffling walk it doesn't really make me look any better.

Monday, July 2, 2012

Remember The Alamo

 What basically happened was the Mexican gvt. made a terrible choice to invite American colonists to settle parts of Mexico north of the Rio Grande. Eventually the Mexicans decided to end free immigration (talk about reversed roles) and the Texian colonists felt offended because their letters sent back east saying how easy it was to find land in Mexico would not be honored anymore. Why didn't Mexico invite Mexicans to colonize this deserted hill country? Because the Comanche, Apache, Tonkawa, and Karankawas Indians didn't care if your skin was white or light brown before they attacked. Only the land poor Tennessee banjo strummer would accept the invitation. So...

Sunday, July 1, 2012

Rain

It rained last night. Maybe Orgonite works.
Creative Commons License
Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.