Hey, Control Freaks, You're not the boss of me

The control freaks are back.  Not that they went anywhere or ever do. 

You know who I'm talking about...  They're usually rich, powerful... they believe they are all knowing.  Under the guise of "compassion", they tell us what is best for our lives and what is best for society.   They're hypocritical, almost always liberal, and most of all, they're arrogant.

We've got a control freak in the White House, hundreds of them in Congress and even more in Hollywood.

Control freaks are the ones who tell us what we can and cannot eat, where we can and cannot smoke.  They even tell us what we can and cannot smoke. 

Control Freaks in Washington will tell us we can't be trusted with guns to protect our families and property as they walk into every building with armed bodyguards by their sides.  Hell, the control freaks in Washington will even sell guns to our enemies in other countries while trying to disarm us.

About a year ago, some control freaks in Hollywood started appearing in commercials telling us we can't be trusted with guns.  And as soon as their 30 second self-righteous commercial ended, it was back to the violent gun shooting movie they themselves were starring in. 

Control freaks even like to tell us how to spend our paychecks.  They like to take a percentage of our own hard earned money and decide how to spend it.   Somehow, they have conditioned us to believe that taxes are patriotic and compassionate. 

Find me a person that believes social programs are intended to help people while having nothing to do with control and I will show that person the real reason why taxes are raised every year.  In fact, I will let the father of modern liberal government do the speaking:

Lyndon B. Johnson
“I'll have those niggers voting Democratic for the next 200 years. [Touting his underlying intentions for the "Great Society" programs, LBJ confided with two like-minded governors on Air Force One]”.

I don't think this infamous quote needs explaining. 

Control freaks don't just stop at spending our own money, they even play God by determining who has the right to live or die.  But they're clever... they use terms like "pro-choice" and "fetus" to dehumanize that heart beating human being with his or her own unique DNA structure growing inside the womb..  It's funny to me that living people who were given a chance to succeed or fail in life believe a child's life is merely a choice.  But as I said, control freaks are arrogant.  They believe their lives are more important than mine or yours.

But I'll be fair... If you are one of those pro-choice people who simply believe abortion is not about control,  I will let the Mother and Creator of Planned Parenthood do the talking:

Margaret Sanger
"We do not want word to go out that we want to exterminate the Negro population."

Maybe that's why control freaks have built abortion clinics in every poor neighborhood in our country.

Let's be honest, if control freaks were really concerned about choice and letting us dictate what we do with our own bodies, pot wouldn't be illegal, prostitution would be fine, and wearing a seat belt wouldn't be a law.

I could go on and on about control freaks.  I could mention that those who start wars never send their own children.  Control freaks will determine the lives of our children while keeping their own out of harm's way.   I could give many examples of certain policies and agendas right now at work that were authored by control freaks. 

But really, this is about something less serious; something so ridiculous that I can't help but write about it.  The control freaks have sunk even lower....

Beyonce came out this week calling for a ban on the word "bossy".  That's right, the woman married to Jay Z, the rapper that calls women "bitches" and "hos", is asking US to stop using the word "bossy".  Why?  Because it promotes sexism.  That's what this liberal celebrity control freak is asking us to do.  Calling a woman a bitch is fine.  Calling them bossy is bad.

But it got me thinking... I'm not exactly a control freak but maybe, I could be a little self-righteous and join this new movement of telling others what is and what is not acceptable to say. 

There are quite a few words and phrases I believe should be outlawed:

1.  fetus- it promotes murder.  Have you ever heard a pregnant woman say, "I can't wait until my fetus is born and becomes a human being"?  As I said earlier, fetus exists only to dehumanize babies.  It's to elicit a disconnect between mother and growing baby.  In other words, it's to make you feel better if you decide to go to a doctor and have that doctor snap that baby's spine and vacuum out his or her brains.

2.  lover- this word just irritates me.  It's pretentious.  It's ridiculous.  You aren't Shakespeare.  If you're sleeping with someone, use any other term but lover.  Please.

3.  making love-  Seriously, these two words put together make me sick.  This phrase makes me want to stab those who use it.   Ladies, if you meet a man that refers to sex as making love, run.  Or kill him.  I don't care just get away from him.  It's creepy.

4.  actually-  the most overused word in existence.  It means nothing.  It's unnecessary.  While we're at it, lets ban the phrase "to be honest".  When someone uses "actually" or "to be honest", they're probably about to tell a lie.  There is no reason that word or that phrase should ever be used unless you are trying to oversell  your next statement.

And lastly...

5.  progressive- it's a condescending term intended to alienate anyone that doesn't agree with the control freak's idea of morality.  We have been conditioned to believe that having old time family values is a thing of the past.  If I tell someone I am against gay marriage, a "progressive" will come along and ask, "Who are you?  Beaver Cleaver?".  It's arrogant rhetoric.  Equating convictions with hate is how progressives operate.  Control freaks preach tolerance while exhibiting intolerance. 

Little Conversations

What if dreams are a time machine?  A mix of yesterday, tomorrow and all the missing moments in between.

There are no footprints in the sand.  Never, did you carry me..  When I needed you most, I was simply swept out to sea.

It's achingly beautiful on the other side.  That's what he said as I slept. 

"Why do you continue to haunt me?"
and he replied,
"I, too, was swept out to sea."

Little conversations when I sleep.  How long would they last if I never woke up?  Nothing is more intoxicating than when I drink from the sandman's cup. 

Sleep shouldn't be the weary man's foe.  Angels on the ceiling and monsters under the bed below.  Ghosts never seek closure; it's us who refuse to let go.  I could conjure up a drowning man before the tide sets in.  Don't be fooled by the devil's halo.   Dreams play like a movie in my head but I always awake before the credits roll.  Once upon a time, years ago.  Little conversations ended in I told you so. 

What if my time machine is stuck in reverse?  And our little conversations are merely you begging me to save you?   If dreams are the insomniac's curse,  shouldn't I be saved, too?

Once upon a time, there were two sets of footprints in the sand.  Little conversations, hand in hand.  Don't listen to the voices, my old friend.  Famous last words to a drowning man.  Suddenly both sets of footprints were gone like that.  Familiar sense of futility at my command. 

What unresolved issues can there be? 

There are no footprints in the sand. 

Never, did you carry me.

We're all swept out to sea, eventually. 

Little conversations, late at night.  Between an old ghost and me. 
What if dreams are a time machine?

Losing my religion

To love the self absorbed in the midst of a catastrophe as the lungs cave in on my apostasy.  Losing my religion in the name of fear when hope was once my amnesty.  So, it goes as time winds down.  Joy, why have you abandoned me?

I label you, you label me.  The luster of us is gone like a novelty.  I think we know by now that happily ever after is merely an anomaly.  So, it goes as time winds down.  Rose colored glasses, why did you abandon me?

I used to hear the screams of a butterfly and feel the heat from a burning ant.  I tuned it out so I would not feel too bad.  Where have you gone, empathy?  You're looking out for you and I'm looking out for me.  Thank you for all your years of service, clarity.

To love thyself on forgotten days as birthday candles melt away.  I'd like to save my wish for a rainy day if you don't mind trying to remember me.  I've got my fingers on the trigger on the illusion of reality.  One more bullet makes me a casualty.  Prudence, why did you abandon me?

I scream at you, you scream at me.  Two days later comes an apology.  I think it's clear I'm not a priority.  Cloud my vision with your superiority.  It doesn't matter, I still see your beauty.  So, it goes as time winds down.  The same old song always sounds new to me. 

Here's a stick.  There's my heart. A blood pumping pinata so to speak.  Hola, well deserved release.  Adios, sweet mystique.  Punish me with silence and I, you, metaphorically.  Communication, why did you abandon me?

To love insufferably in the midst of a catastrophe as the lungs cave in on our history.  Losing my religion in the name of fear makes me guilty of idolatry.  So, it goes as time winds down.  Optimism, why have you abandoned me?

black sheep

"I'm not ready for this," she said.

It was raining, I think.  Proverbial black cloud, at least.  Twenty minutes before, we were laughing at a movie; rolling our empty beer cans down the aisle of the theater. 

"I'm indestructible", I thought.  "I'm gonna live forever".

Finally, I found a home and a family.  No one ever said family was defined by blood.  For me, family was about acceptance.  Being in a herd with other black sheep. 

Jesus, forgive me.  I wasn't even eighteen.

The rain was coming down hard.   Something about being young makes us think we never need shelter or an umbrella.  My face was dripping wet.  Never felt better; never conceived of any moments where anything would ever be different.

It was supposed to be a quick phone call; just to check in.  Had my lie ready. but as I learned later, I wasn't as clever as I believed.

In the background, they were huddled together; rushing me to hang up the phone.  Something about the tone of her voice... immediately, I knew.  Speaking of black sheep, sometimes, they never find their own herd.

Jesus forgive her, she was only fifteen. 


It is with heavy hearts....

I stopped right there.  I couldn't read anymore. 

I'm not ready for this.


Mondays are hard but Thursdays are worse.  End of September is rough but early October is twice as bad.  And by Christmas, it's all shoved back down... only to resurface at the most inopportune times. Like when I am asleep. 

And those faces, they gasp for air; choking on their potential... the potential they left behind.  And what I am supposed to do?  I've got my own potential, too.  But my heart, it beats and my brain, it pounds.  And my soul, it aches.  And my shoes, they're torn.  And my hands, they bleed from those nails and cross.  And my eyes, they seek... something pure or clean.  And this fool's a wiser and knowledge is bliss as I chew the nails of ambition and admit, I'll never be ready for this.

And Jesus forgive me, I'm not ready for you.  Can you delay the inevitable until I find me? 


"I'm not ready", he said.  "For sobriety or sleep".  It's one or the other, he knew down deep.  It was raining, it was pouring, I think.  Proverbial black cloud, at least.

We were indestructible, we thought.  We were family; a herd of black sheep.

City on a Hill

I have never loved anyone as much as I love her.  But I'll come back to that.

Once, I was asked the difference between joy and happiness.  I probably rambled on for a half an hour trying to explain this perplexing concept to this friend.  I knew the answer.  I just couldn't articulate it well.  I can now.  But I'll come back to that, as well.

You know those moments where certain random things you learned as a child just appear out of nowhere and pop into your mind?  Be it, the state capital of North Dakota or the chemical compound for salt or the name of Scooby Doo's nephew which was Scrappy. 

The human brain is an amazing thing.  The way it stores data and information, how it controls every movement we make and every sense we have.    One day, we are smelling the perfume on our girlfriend's neck and years later after she has moved on, that scent just drifts quietly back into our senses and our brain automatically makes this connection between her and that moment we were breathing her in.    It happens more commonly with music.  We are driving along, not necessarily thinking about anything, an old song we haven't heard in years starts playing on the radio.  We suddenly remember every single word and this overwhelming feeling of nostalgia or joy or that relentless gnawing feeling of grief takes over.  Our brain immediately reconnects us to how we felt during those remarkable moments we first heard that song.  And then, we find ourselves smiling for no reason or a tear just slowly flows unexpectedly down our cheeks.  But we are alone, we're just driving in our car.  No one is there and it's liberating.  And it makes us yearn for those better days.

My old best friend had Al Bundy syndrome.  Every conversation we had started with, "remember when"... and at the time, I found it irritating.  He was in his early 30's and spoke as if life was over; as if the best this life has to offer was well behind him.  It was heartbreaking on some level because it subtly told the rest of us how hopeless he was feeling.  He turned out to be right.  He left us at the age of 32.

I think about him a lot; usually in the quiet crevices of my own thoughts, I long for more days with him.  And it never fails.  I'll be alone and some song we used to drink to starts playing.  It's always a loud uplifting party song but now my brain has translated that loud uplifting party song into a sorrowful hymn.  And I can't help but get choked up.

I have had a difficult time sleeping my whole life and my brain moves at a remarkable speed.  I'll lay there for hours thinking about random things and I'll pop out of bed, jump onto my computer and start writing.  It's always when something nostalgic hits me or when I'm feeling a little down.  If I was happy every minute of the day, I would never write.  And I love that about me.  I love that I teeter between happy and a little down. 

So, here I am, after a failed attempt at going to bed early. 

As a product of a Christian school, random Bible verses are cemented into my brain.  I don't quote verses or turn to them for comfort as much as I should.  They are just things I had to learn growing up; like the Magna Carta being signed in 1215  

Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.  It just randomly floated out my brain tonight.  One of those Bible verses I was forced to memorize.  So, I turn on my television before running to my computer to snapshot my state of mind through this incredible medium known as writing.  Right there on my TV screen is some story about a dog saving a drowning boy.  I didn't really catch the details but it was ironic timing considering I was reciting that Bible verse a few minutes earlier.

All of that brought me to Buddy; my last dog whom I can write about with ease.  It's funny how connected we become with our pets.  When my best friend left us, I couldn't cry for a considerable time.  When I found out my first love lost her life in a needless accident, I was numb for a long time.  I didn't even talk about her death for years.  It was my secret.  When Buddy died, well, he can still move me to tears and that was a decade ago.

There were those moments when I was feeling down and I hadn't quite discovered this beautiful medium known as writing and I would just turn to Buddy and tell him how I was feeling.  His ears would perk up and at the exact right moment, he would lick my hand.  Suddenly, I would feel better.  I doubt he knew what I was saying but there is no doubt, he knew I was hurting. 

I've written many times about how he was the only one I could talk to when I was faced with loss.  When our best friend left us, it was Buddy who wouldn't eat simply because I couldn't eat.  It was Buddy that would curl up on my bed and lay his head on my chest all those countless nights where I was trying to make sense of everything.

That dog taught me more about life and friendship and love than everything I was forced to remember growing up.

I'll tell you this: I used to look forward to coming home from work everyday because there was no greater feeling than seeing my dog jump up and down frantically and bark at my mere presence.  That joy he exhibited daily upon my arrival is unmatched in the human realm of things. 

I think all joy has been sucked out of this world and replaced with this cynical temporary superficial thing we call happiness.  If I am ever asked again to articulate the difference between joy and happiness, I'll tell that person to buy a dog.  And then I'll shut up.

That person will either get it or he won't.

There's so much beauty in this world and it's always found in the least likely of places.  We focus so much time on all those things that scare us; like the economy or the potential of war or the unknown future that our children will have to endure.  Fear holds us hostage and blinds us to the beauty staring at our face; begging to be recognized. 

Buddy used to jump up and down frantically at my mere presence the minute I walked through our doorway.  I would kneel down, talk in a strange baby voice and have a short conversation with him.  He would eventually settle down, lick my hand and then follow me into my bedroom as I changed out of my work clothes.  He would just sit there and watch me.

I was beautiful to him.  He lived a life free of fear.  It was the little things he appreciated and longed for..

If dogs lived as long as humans, I am not sure we would appreciate how amazing they are.  I think we eventually would take their unbridled joy and their unconditional love for granted.  It's probably a blessing that we only get 10 years or so of life out of our dogs because those 10 years not a moment goes wasted.

Nights like this, I find myself in nostalgia overload but not to the point where I want to start every conversation with remember when because as hopeless as this world seems, as the Bible tells us, a city on a hill cannot be hidden and we are indeed, the light of the world.  We are the light of this world.

My girlfriend just had a birthday and we are the sheer definition of "its complicated" but one thing I know is that I have never loved anyone like I love her.

I think Buddy, my best friend, my first love and everyone who came before her are the reasons why. 

Man, I love life.  I love every damn part of it. 

Even the bad stuff. 

Letter from Machine

Under a billion stars, I can't help but think of you.  Where does the man end and machine begin?  Can you leave heaven for a day or two?  Machine wants to feel again.

My words are escaping me.  They caught an airplane.  Why are you scaring me?  Machine knows no fear nor feels no pain.  My words have left me.  They are buried deep.  Machine needs a nap but he will not sleep.  Under a billion stars, I can't help but think of you.  When the lights go out, machine becomes a man.


In our old bed, I'm a pretty love machine.  You stare at my back as I stare at the wall.  We've been burning bridges and building forts.   Pretty love machine can't feel at all. 

My charm is dissipating.  It's such a shame.  Machine always knew exactly what to say.  Who do you think you are berating?  Machine feels nothing night nor day.  But when those stars comes out, machine becomes a man.

Sad sad song, you're in my head.  Familiar faces, words unsaid.  Machine stays calm, will not show his hand.  No one feels comfortable when machine becomes man.   But sad sad song, you're effecting me.  Just when I think I can no longer feel, certain things hit me unexpectedly. 

Machine can play piano and write some prose.  Machine even speaks to God.  I bet you didn't know.  Machine is still in love and drinks from a glass half full.  I bet you never ask.  You think the future is the past.  Machine thinks you're cruel and won't understand when the sun goes down and I become a man.

Tick Tock, I'm counting down.  To our last dance when the credits roll.  Tick Tock, machine will self destruct but I won't let go. 

Under a billion stars, I can't help but think of you.  When does a man become machine?  Before the love or after it's gone or somewhere between? 

When the sun goes down and no one is around, I become a man.

Forever yours,
Your pretty love machine. 

The Catfish on Broadway

1. The Cast
   
   1.  Summer-  Sexy, bad speller, drug addict, wild.  A millionaire
   
   2.  Huggy-  Nurturing Cat lover.  Loves the Notebook.  Owns a restaurant called Aunt D's.  Raped twice. 
   
   RIP  Murdered January 2015.
   
   3.  Jake-  Handsome, short.  Almost was a father but a paternity test cleared him.  Owns a construction company.  Makes frequent trips to the moon where no internet exists.
   
   4.  Dean-  The hot cardiologist.  Too cool and busy for Facebook.  Logged in as Summer once to check out who she talks to.
   
   5.  Carrie-  Summer's best friend.  Sells vacuum cleaners.  Must hit monthly quota by the 4th day of the month.  Has one leg shorter than the others.
   
   6.  Pamela-  The lesbian paralegal.
   
   7.  Ava-  Random hooker that shows up on occasion to be called a whore. Gave Jake a free blowjob once.
   
   8.  Briar-  Huggys Best Friend.  Only comments to say sweet things.  No profile picture because she said she was too ugly for one.
   
   9.  Jenna-  The cunt!  Likes to announce publicly everytime Summer has an abortion.  Was run over on the sidewalk by Summer.
   
   RIP  Killed in car accident.
   
   10.  Paula-  Bitchy Cop's wife.  Sister in Law to summer.
   
   11.  Matt-  Random male character whose job is to say Summer is pretty.
   
   12.  Steve-  Random male character with same job as Matt.  Plays poker with Jake.
   
   13.  Samantha-  Huggys oldest daughter.
   
   13a.   Samanthas new baby.  Born in December out of the blue.  A Miracle Baby.
   
   14.  Sheenalea-  Huggys daughter.
   
   15.  Dylan and Nicole-  Huggys other kids.  Never seen.
   
   16.  Chrissy-  Cook at Huggys restaurant.
   
   17.  Tony- exhusband of Huggy.  Too cool for facebook.
   
   RIP died of a heart attack in Jan. 2015.
   
   18.  Kathy Reynolds-  Huggys first fake profile friend in 2011.  Quiet. 
   
   19.  The Real Huggy-  Made cameo when the fake huggy gave the real huggy her password. 
   
   20.  Carley-  Cunt.  Character was killed off via block after one too many insults.
   
   21.  Olivia-  Summers favorite daughter.  Starred in many videos.  Watched the Brady Bunch on a laptop.
   
   22.  2 other daughters-  No need to say their names.  They werent featured like Olivia was.
   
   23.  Missy-  New old friend that appeared for 2 hours a day before Huggy was murdered. 
   
   24, Karla Palmer.- Boring Friend
   
   25. Leah- Cunt. Killed off early.
   
   26. Kameron- Seldom seen
   
   Special Appearances
   
   1.  Stan- won an Emmy.  Was told by Summer hes a one hit wonder and should shove that Emmy up his ass.
   
   2.  Ben-  The skitzophrenic deleter.  Talks for hours with Huggy and Summer.  Gives advice.  Deletes them after personal talks for no reason.
   
   3. Barry Wilmas- Celebrity Superstar. Sent Summer an autographed picture once.
   
   
   
   Locations:
   
   
   1.  Sunnybrook Hospital:  Where Summer was in a coma for 24 hours and then on Facebook after she woke up.  Where Summer fought Menginitis for a week.  Escaped briefly to steal a car.  Also, where Huggy died 6 hours after hitting her head on a block of ice when the stalker hit her once. 
   
   2.  Back Alley Abortion Clinic-  Where Summer had 2 abortions.  One was botched which led her back to Sunnybrook to fix the hemorraging. 
   
   3. Unknown Crack House-  Where Summer bought heroin and cocaine whenever someone died or if she was about to get more probation on top of her current probation.
   
   4.  Ski Slopes-  random activity thrown in
   
   5.  California-  where Summer gave a bath to a homeless man and bought him shoes.
   
   6.  Mexico-  where Huggy vacationed but her friend lost her purse and Huggy paid for everything.
   
   7.  Texas.- where Huggy vacationed and Summer with the help of 6 profiles told her that her house was on fire and the cats were dead.  Huggy cut short her trip.
   
   8.  Buffalo-   boat trip central.
   
   9.  New York-  Dean had a seminar there and Summer shopped.