Where the Hell is Ben and his Blog?

Where the hell has Ben and his blog, whrsmymnd.blogspot.com, gone too? Gasp! Maybe the secret police got him for all his subversive and anti-war rhetoric!

Or maybe the boogey man finally got him.

Whatever. It sure was nice to get an inside look at life across the pond. Maybe I'll march over there tomorrow and knock on Tony Blair's front door and kick him in the nuts and demand they let Ben go Free!

Maybe Tony Blair IS the boogey man!

Just imagine the inhumane torture he might be subjected to. GASP! No! Not-- gulp-- SaNTana!
Anything but, please.

Noir your heart out!

Dames. Now there's a tempermental creature if there ever was one. I've known dames that would make a man curl up in a ball and weep cuz he knew he didn't stand a chance of makin' her-- let alone pleasin her. I'm talkin' bout the high class broads that glide 6 inches above the ground. The kind of gal that nations go to war over. Hell, that guy Homer wrote a book about one. They'll eat a man up and spit 'm out just cuz they can.

But to be fair--I mean these are 'sposed to be 'unbiased' times we's livin' in-- I seen the sweetest angel darlins' turn into the most wretched and hateful hags 'cuz a man got to her most prized possession-- her heart. Yeh, then the bastard jus' tosses it out the window like an empty bottle of beer an leaves her heart shattered in a million pieces.

My sister's a prime example. She hates my guts-- hadn't laid eyes on her or spoke to her or nothin' in ten years. Yeh, but she hates everyone's guts, see. She was 'sposed to marry this real smooth guy-- said he was into real estate development.

Well she had a lil' nestegg saved up see. She worked for this doctor in the city for a long, long time and he and her had a real close relationship if y'know what I mean. I don't think his wife appreciated it too much but they were both older than dirt anyways. So when he finally kicked the can he lef' her enogh dough so she could buy a house an' live real comfortable like.

Shortly afterwards she met this smooth guy an' he wined her and dined her and then six months in to the relationsip he persuaded her to give 'm her money for a business investment that would make 'dem both millionares. The bastard hightailed it the very next week. Left her high an' dry. Wadn't much I could do seein's how I was finishin' my vacation in Eddyville.

Of course she weren't no spring chicken when all this happened. After that she jus' lost her youth as they say. When I got out I went an' visited her an' she wudn't even answer the door. Jus' sat there in her rockin' chair in her flat watchin' the picture box and cursin' every man she ever knew under her breath. Because you see, she didn't care as much about the money that was gone as she did about the man who stole her heart.

Probably didn't help much seein's how the old man lef' us when she was only five. 'Course by that time I had already been kicked out the house an' was out on the streets makin' a name for myself. Yeah I was a real firecracker in those days-- didn't care 'bout no one 'cept myself.
Sometimes I wish I could make it up to her somehow.

One thing's for sure if I ever catch up with the smooth talkin' sonofabitch that broke my lil' sister's heart I'll break his knees and then some.

Noir your heart out

I had been living the straight man's life just long enough; long enough for those wanderin' thoughts to come creepin back in to my head. It was real hard for a guy like me not to stray from the beaten path-- 'Cause I guy like me always wants more.

Guess I got my head in the clouds-- jus' like mamma always said. She would say things like, "If you could realize you ain't nothing special you might amount to something someday!"

But I look around and I see some guy and he's window shopping with his cute lil' wife and their lil' kiddie and I'm thinkin'-- this guy aint happy. Jus' look at him--miserable as hell.

Oh sure he's got more than me-- home-cooked meal when he comes home from work an' a nice big arm chair to sit in and a wife who loves him in the middle of the night but that ain't what he really wants.

While he's sitting there with Junior on his lap drinkin' his beer, he's thinkin' about that ol' chap of his back in college that went off to China or Peru or somethin' like that and made it big in Silver bullion or diamonds or tropical medicines or something.

And he starts to think, "what have I done"? And he starts to regret. And he starts to get angry deep inside because he knows he can never go back.

The stray dog may not have a pot to piss in but at least he's free to roam.

Flogging A Dead Horse

Perhaps I was being a little too harsh on my last post. Definitely not focused enuff which continues to plague my writing. That's why I have this blog, too strengthen my writing skills and try to form developed thoughts.

Well, forget Christians for a second. Throughout history society has looked down on others that were different. I just can't understand why we perceive ourselves as an advanced society yet we continue to look for scapegoats. We continue to form our intuitions based on heresay and rhetoric.

Millions of people have been massacred because of this perplexing habit yet we never stop and ask ourselves, "How do I know what I know?".

I know people who are so racist against black people yet they grew up in a community with hardly any black people. These folks lack the ability to rise above their parent's madness and so continues the legacy of fear and paranoia.

Yep. There are plenty of so-called Christians splattering their cars with status-seeking identifiers like Jesus emblems and support the troops stickers. I don't get it. Whom are you trying to impress?

There are plenty of hard working folks who buy in to the load of crap that this administration wants us to believe-- and I can't seem to get it into their heads that a bunch of bloodthirsty, money hungry, and BLASPHEMOUS assholes are running the show.

Also, there are plenty of young turks out there who believe everything that comes out of Michael Moore's fat trap.

Everybody wants to be on the winning side. Some of us want to be on the 'cool' and 'hip' side-- the side that's got 'the real scoop on things'. Why because your life is empty and you want to fill it with something good, but you don't know where to start, because you were raised to project what other people wanted you to be rather than discovering who you really are.
So these people, who cannot fully form thoughts of their own, resort back to the blame game because they don't have the mentality to comprehend that there is no GOOD side.

When you fall off the horse the only thing you can do is get right back on.

Or shoot it and put it out of it's misery.

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Humble Pie II

People around these parts are pretty nice. Thats why I feel bad whenever I picture myself with a double barrel shotgun blowing away the soccer moms in the SUV with the jesus emblem and the support the troops stickers-- I mean that could be my stepmom driving down the road, being all superior and shit. All tucked away in their safe little neighborhood, she leaves in the morning for work in the city and is safely escorted to a safe little parking garage far far away from the drunks, bums, blacks, and 'anarchists' that roam the streets around the university.
Now I don't think that my Stepmom should have to deal with these types of people, I mean that's why she writes checks at church-- to keep that seedy world at a safe distance and maybe one day it will all just disappear... when the four horsemen come riding in...and Jesus takes us all to a better place.
I'm not trying to smear the image of good, god-fearing people, it's just that's the demographic that is most likely to spawn a monster.
LOok at me. I'm 35 and I am so fed up. I sit at the shithole of a place called 'work' and I fantasize daily about shooting sprees, suicide, and then I drive home-- nervously sucking down one beer after another until the little voices in my head are drowned out. I've made a few mistakes in my life-- for sure--lost some good friends, squandered some promising opportunities, and smoked away a few billion brain cells. But still I persevere. Because I am an eternal optimist.
thats why I have a hard time with all these humble pie motherfuckers. When did we lose the ability to reason? When did everybody decide that it would be best if we all hide behind the same mask?
I remember a day when an independent voice was something to be envied, admired, and listened too. NOw, it's just too dangerous and simply alienating.
Hmm. Well whatever. I shouldn't be writing about my killing spree fantasies on the computer at work. That could really cause problems.
And I am NOT really going to kill anybody. Words my comrades,,, words are so much more better than bullets>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

GASP alert 3/07/2006 The Progressive Academy

I used to like George Clooney. Kentuckian from Owensboro, tall dark handsome man, Mr Suave, World's Sexiest Man in 1997. His dad ran for congress last year and lost. And of course his mom is Rosemary Clooney, a popular singer from back in the day.

Anyways, good to see a KY boy representin' in Tinsel Town.

But now I dont know. He just had to suck up at the Oscars. JUst had to play the the bleeding liberal card. Yeah if the American Film Academy is progressive then Carlos Santana is the greatest musician in the world! Ha.

Let's face it. The only reason anyone in the academy would push an issue is not to be progessive but simply protaganistic-- because any press is good press in Hollywood.

So go trip on a dick Susan Sarandon. Same goes for you Sean Penn... and the lot of you blow holes. Yep, you too GEORGIE!

Stop Santanaganda. Guard Against Santana Proliferation.