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This is some shit I wrote at Aiming Low this week. http://ow.ly/ooTAa
Maybe it’s just me, but I think that all single women should do it. Whoring around, that is. Single men too, but only because they’re the ones who tell about it. It’s not that I think I’ll be getting any more sex from it; that would probably kill me. I just like hearing about how much sex everyone is having, and now nobody ever talks about it. It used to be that you’d go out for a few beer with some buddies, and the conversations always turned to who was having sex with whom. Nowadays, I’d be happy for a story about a quick handjob by a dude at the Halfway River rest area. I know the Sharpie message beside the toilet said he wanted more than that, but sometimes a fella just doesn’t have the time for all the bells and whistles. It’s like “Hey man, I have a job to do too; so how about you quit your clingy neck kissing, and get yours done, so we can all get on with our day?” Ummm, I’m just ad-libbing what the guy might have said, if he was telling me the story from his point of view.
But really, why not go out and have protected sex with all of the single people you meet? You could even incorporate couples into your Swinging Rolodex (if there is still such a thing), and make three people very happy (wink wink). Think of all the stories I would
tell hear then. It would be phenomenal if you ask me, but for some reason you ladies are all classy and shit, and don’t want to get a reputation. Well, I have news for you. I have already told everyone that you have been with no less than three men/women in a night, so your name precedes you and you might as well get out there and have fun with it.
Nah, I’m just kidding about telling everyone you’re a ho, but really, you should practice up for when you get married. You don’t want to find the perfect guy, and have him leave you for a more promiscuous version of yourself, do you? Well then… get sexing up everyone that will let you and report back to me with all the juicy deets. I just used a modern slang term. I’m pretty cool, huh? Ah, deets. Seriously, as long as he’s not a psycho (Irish), or four legged, what’s the hold up? If you aren’t willing to give it up, you could at least give some oral. That will get your jaw muscles all toned up, and also give your body the much needed nutrients that it so desperately craves. Which reminds me of a hilarious clip that my baby showed me, some time ago. Here it is. Just below these words. Oh gol durn it, they disabled embedding on the clip. Oh well, here’s the link instead Derrick Comedy’s – Blow Job Girl.
Well, I found out that it wasn’t all SOPA that kept me from looking up that clip. It seems the camp has made all searches on the strict setting. That means if you search for “blow job”, you get 0 search results and you surely can’t look at boobies, or so I’m told anyway. I guess I can understand it in a way, but man, what a pain in the anus that is. The camp manager said that there were 21000 hits on the top five porn sites last month, and that all of the bandwith is used up by 10 AM each day. This camp holds 410 people, and probably 380 are men, of that 380, let’s say that 275 are looking at porn. Let’s do the math on that.
21000 porn visits/30 days/ 275 men = 2.55 porn views per day. Now that’s a lot of hand cream and Kleenex. This is just online porn,and I stress this because it doesn’t include the already downloaded or purchased porn that was brought from home. I know I had probably 30 gigs on my hard drive, and I wouldn’t be the only one who thought of that. Unfortunately, I left my hard drive at Aaron’s house, so he’s sitting on a goldmine right now, and doesn’t even know it. (Pssst, it’s in the Mapquest folder, East subfolder, and check out the one with my old neighbour from the apartment. It’s real romantic.)
So ladies, now you know where you can go to get laid, and make a decent buck on the side as a campy, cook, or baker. If you play your cards right, you could get knocked up by a married dude with a good job, and if you don’t tell his wife, you could spend the next eighteen or so years relatively well kept. Whatever you do, don’t get mixed up with the rig pigs, or seismic guys. They fuck around all the time, and if you think their old ladies are going to let you get any of their money, you’ve got another think coming. Nope, you should go for either a construction consultant, a safety lead or a geologist. Those are your safest bets, because most of them are married, and make really good money.
To get the right one, you need to chat them up, and find the one that loves his wife, and his life more than the rest. Then find out how much he makes and figure out if it’s worth it. Hell yeah it’s worth it. You then need to find out everything you can, by always asking him questions about his family, health, etc… If he has heart troubles, you won’t want to mix too much Viagra in with the roofies, but if he doesn’t; sock it to him baby. After you have learned everything, and properly got the video camera set up, you will need to hop on, and ride that bull. Make sure that you move his hands around, and grunt in a deep voice, so that it seems like he’s really into it. After the deed is done, knock him on the head and wait for him to come to. When he does, pretend you are crying, and tell him that you had to hit him because he was getting too rough, and you don’t think you should see each other anymore; then run away, leaving him shellshocked. In a couple months, make sure you let him know what the test says, and even if it’s negative, make him sweat a bit. You know you’ll have a job for life, or at least until you find your next victim.
Oh yeah, don’t pay attention to the horrible guilty feeling, or the nightmares you will have for ruining someone’s life. I’m sure he had it coming, because all men are pigs, right?
Oh baby I wanna get with ya, and take your picture,
I got most of a post done, and I still need some things off the web, but because of SOPA blackouts, I can’t get it. Then I thought that I should support the blackouts as well, because it will affect us all. I actually fell asleep while trying to get around all of the strict filters. I really am sorry, but I feel that we should support the efforts to keep the internet free.
I mentioned in some earlier posts about an e-book I got from the Simple Dude. There were all kinds of hints to building a bigger blog, but I thought that most of them seemed cheap and sell outish. I was later thinking that I should try them out, like the book says, to see if they even work, and voila! I now own another blog. It’s completely different than this blog, and I will never tell you the address, because if I did, it would tamper with my findings. I just want to see whether, if I change who I am, I can be a successful blogger. I realize that I should tone down my language, and twisted sense of humour, and I really have, even for this blog. There are some pretty foul thoughts that go through my brain, and it would take a pretty special person to understand that it’s just some of the things that I find funny, or weird.
That’s one thing I love about the Missus. She gets me, and she keeps me in check, but not by censoring me. I’ll run something by her, and she will tell me whether it’s funny, or not. If it’s funny, it’s funny. It doesn’t matter what language is in it, or how gross it is. It’s either funny, or it isn’t funny. Sometimes it’s downright hilarious, but because it is a little too raunchy, we don’t put it in the blog. Sometimes she suggests that I don’t put something in the blog, and I do anyhow, and then some people quit reading. Those usually are posts of murdering animals, and I have to agree with her, that they are quite graphic and sad, but I always feel that I have to be as honest as I can with you. That’s why I’m telling you about this new blog. It’s completely different than Change The Topic, because there is no swearing, no real humour (just that dumbed down shit), and no real names. It’s totally anonymous, and it is also a lot of fiction.
I already give you guys all of my real life, and I don’t have a lot of writing time right now, so I’m just putting a paragraph or two of filler in there. That will likely change when I get home, and have a bit of free time. I can tell you folks that read this blog, that I will keep you updated when I start actually following the steps in that other book, because I want you to know how things go. Who knows, it just might work!!! I may become a financially successful blogger, and all I’d have to do is change a few things about how I write. Apparently if you follow this guys advice, the people that follow you will be telling all of their friends about your blog, and they try to promote each other as well, so if it works out like they say, I’ll be getting like 10000 hits a week within a year. I should also add that you have to have decent content as well. I can’t just copy shit from the internet, and expect people to give a damn about it. Who knows, maybe it’ll just be mediocre, and random, like this one, but I’m going to try to focus on the subject, and keep my eye on the prize.
Maybe when I’m raking in the millions, and buying everyone subscribed to Change The Topic an electric car, I’ll feel like I’m doing something worthwhile. Another way that I can get that feeling, is to look into Mrs. Birdman’s eyes when she is adoring me in the cocoon, or look in my Mom’s face when I give her that hug she’s waiting for. Those are the things that matter, and as nice as it would be to not have to worry about money, it’s way better to not have to worry about whether anyone loves you. This may seem a little arrogant, but I feel like I am well loved by a lot of people, and in turn, I give that love back. There is a reason that I have so much love around me, and it’s because I surround myself with positive, free thinking, generous people, that aren’t afraid to give someone a compliment, an encouraging word or a big hug whenever they want to. They aren’t trying to “one up” each other, or push someone else down, just to make their life seem better. They want people to succeed at whatever they do, and are always there to help in any way they can. It’s pretty nice that we can actually say that we are proud to have the friends we do. We feel that we’ve accomplished something tremendous when we look around at their smiling faces, and realize that we have more true friends, than most people have acquaintances.
I really mean that. Mrs. Birdman has often remarked at how many friends we now have. I have always taken it for granted, because I seem to be attracted to genuine people, and usually become friends with them. I had always thought that everyone was like that. She assured me that it wasn’t so, and then I started thinking. I began looking at people that were close to me, and thinking about how many friends they have. Some of them had tons, but most had a few close friends, and then the rest were acquaintances. I began to wonder why that was? Maybe they have trust issues, were burned before, or just don’t like people very much. I would really love to know, because we are sort of the opposite, and I don’t understand why everyone doesn’t go out and get a shitload of friends, and have fun with them. I know that’s what I’m planning to do for the rest of my life. I’m going to enjoy the company of people that I admire, respect, and truly like being around. I really can’t think of anything else that I’d like better, because I’ve been a truck driver for the last thirteen years, and have spent most of it alone.
Now it’s my turn to shine, baby.
We sure had fun the last time that we were down there, and when we woke up you had that weird tattoo, and somebody had curled my hair,
P.S. We received a somewhat delicate question for Therapy Thursday, and Mrs. Hankey, don’t worry, we will get to it, but it will take a while for me to be able to figure out how to answer that one. Thanks for sending it in.
Fuck money. Yep, I said it. It makes sense now. Yesterday I was all like “I need to work in the oilpatch, so I can have extra money for in the spring, because when I come home, I’ll have to take a shitty paying job that I don’t hate.” Yeah, well I know all kinds of people with shitty paying jobs that seem to enjoy their lives; they don’t have to leave their loved ones at home, while they try to hunt down a couple of bucks. That’s right, they enjoy their lives, and here I am, with my life at an all time high with no apex in sight, but I’m a miserable wretch. What the fuck is wrong with me? I need someone to sit me down and explain things when I get all crazy and shit. Maybe a good sound drubbing would have made me see the light, or an intervention could possibly have been the ticket. Either way, I would rather work two jobs, and get to see my beautiful ladies every night, than spend another month here. Did you see my birthday video? If you didn’t, go back a couple of posts, it’s fucking superlative. Mrs. Birdman made up a surprise video birthday card, and I honestly was laughing through my tears. Some of the people were dear, old friends, some were dear, new friends, but they all had one thing in common, they all wanted to wish me a happy birthday. I can’t even begin to imagine how she pulled it off, but I’m glad she did. It was the kick in the ass that I needed, and after watching it, I thought that I’d better get packed up, and get the fuck out of here, before it’s too late.
It’s about time to go, anyways. The price of natural gas is down, so things are getting pretty slow around here lately. I could go work somewhere else I guess, but I don’t see any point in that. I was going to be leaving in a few weeks anyhow, and I don’t feel like going through the bullshit of getting hired on somewhere, only to leave a few weeks later. Truth be told, I’m just grasping for excuses. Same as I was doing last year when I came home early. I am so in love, that it seems to overrule logic. I get to the point where there will be my intelligent brain in one hand, and my instinctual brain in my other hand. I always seem to drop my intelligent brain on the ground, and it usually ends up with gravel and cigarette butts stuck in the grooves. I didn’t even have to hold them after I watched the video that you guys made. I just decided, right then and there that I was coming home as soon as I can get out of this shitty camp. That’s right, I’m heading home. I called the boss, and told him that I was done as soon as this shale haul was over, but if he needed to work one of the other guys, that he could switch me out whenever.
I’m hoping he’ll take me up on it, but who knows for sure? I guess I could ask God? Nah, I don’t think he/she knows. The only thing God knows how to do is to manipulate poor old Jimmy Swaggart and Oral Roberts to get him/her some more money. God don’t give a shit how they get it either. As long as the Lord receives his due, everyone will be fine. Well, except for the people who can’t afford healthcare, and clean water. They don’t get off so easy, do they? But what they don’t realize is that they are actually the lucky ones, because they are going to be living forever, a lot sooner than everyone else. Oh yes, they are going to the promised land to be with their father, Curt Cobain, and Jesus. They don’t have to suffer here on earth, to help save the rest of the flock and get them on their way to heaven, they are the flock, and it’s time for them to go.
Anyhow, back to the subject at hand. Money. The root of all evil, or so they say. I think it would be more accurate to say that money is a tool of evil. We are the root. Not you and I per se, but people as a whole. There is corruption in all of us, and you can call it what you want, but it’s all bad. I guess it’s just how we handle it as individuals that sets us apart from each other. I know that some people can resist the urge to rob, cheat and abuse their fellow man, but then there are the ones that seem to thrive on it. They can’t get enough to slake their thirst for money, power or the infliction of pain. I sadly look at the leaders of our countries, religions, and most charities and corporations when I speak of these utterly douchy crimes against humanity.
As a general rule, the average person doesn’t have the greed gene in them. If they do, it is dwarfed by the “drunk and angry” gene, the “I need to get high gene”, and the “I ate too many cookies” gene. Those three are closely related, and while the latter will some times be there on it’s own; it always follows the second one. We just don’t have it in us. I’ve never wanted to get something so bad, that I’d be willing to step on someone to reach it, and I sure wouldn’t throw a friend or co-worker to the wolves, just to get ahead in a career. Maybe I lack ambition, maybe I lack focus, but I sure hope I’m never lacking in integrity or class. I’m just throwing class in there as a hope, because we all know that I could use a little more of that. I should probably get a bit of couth thrown in there as well, because we all know what happens when I’m drinking.
Well, there you go, I’ve rambled on and gone over my thousand words again. Sorry JSA. I don’t know if I ever got to the point, but I’m going to be coming home early, and looking for work, because I’m sick of not slow dancing in the kitchen, cocooning, and tucking kids in. If anybody knows someone that’s looking for a guy to get things done, you let me know. I’m a relatively quick learner, and I have all kinds of hidden talents, so just ask me, and I’ll tell you whether I can do it. I’d prefer a work from home position, but if it’s not too far from Colborne, I’d be cool with anything else. I was thinking about designing and building some high end ice huts, seeing as ice fishing is legal on Rice Lake now, so if you’re looking for one, you know how to reach me. Okay, that about wraps this up, and I hope to see you very soon.
Roll on highway, roll on along, roll on Daddy ‘til you get back home,