Goodbye red mug

Friday night, I was going to go out, even after some black guy yelled, “Fuck you, cunt!” at me because that’s what a reasonable man says when you walk past him on the sidewalk, but then I broke my big red mug I’ve had for years and many travels, took it as an omen and stayed in. I read a little Byron, and watched Phantom Of The Opera. I would have chosen the Phantom of course. 

I wasn’t going to go far, out, I mean. Just to the local bar. Maybe Fremont street. It’s Labor Day weekend which means all the ridiculous Whoo people are here. “Whoooo Vegas!” You’d have to pay me A LOT of money to go to the strip. I mean an embarrassing amount of money. Oh sure I can be bought. An embarrassing amount of money. 

THE NICE GUYS. What a great movie. Great find. That was Matt Bomer? Wow. I always liked Ryan Gosling. He’s brilliant in this movie.

“Let me tell you what two days of detective work looks like, okay? You drive around like an asshole. You’re gonna spend half the time interviewing the fucking Chet’s of the world. You spend the other half trying to translate fuckwit to English. And when it’s over, the only thing that’s changed is that the sun went down twice.”

— Holland March, The Nice Guys 

Hey you crazy kids, guess what? Come, as in “come join me” is still spelled c.o.m.e. regardless how clever and cutesie you think it is when spelled any other way. 

Just once can men type and speak like somewhat educated adults when writing a woman?

10:46pm (a week ago) Friday night. Las Vegas. Sirens! I was actually thinking of seeing Cheap Trick, at Fremont Street. Fremont is just down the street from me, mere blocks, but I can’t do it. I can’t see any more 50 year old rocker chicks from the 80’s with boofy feathered hair. I’ll tell you what else I can’t see, nicely dressed women with men dressed like slobs. What’s wrong with you ladies? Straighten him out! That’s your job! And please, if you see him wearing white shoes with dark socks, for love of god stop him. He should never wear any socks darker than purple with white shoes. I almost tackled a guy last week and ripped his socks off! Almost. The next guy might not be so lucky. Black socks, or any combination with black fabric, should never be worn with anything other than black shoes. Brown socks, brown shoes. White socks, tennis shoes. And any time a guy wears socks with crocks or any kind of sandal, he should remain single and alone until he knows better. I saw a guy today wearing black socks with slipper sandals and I almost tackled him to rip off his socks. — Omg. Maybe I just miss stealing socks? 

9:09pm Wednesday 

I’ve been busy working on the Smith Card Company website. It’s so much work. I am not a web builder. I’m dumb and pretty the way god intended! Aramis is the computer guy but nooooooo I’m doing the website, why? Not my fault if it looks like it was made by a ten year old. 

Vegas would actually be a nice place to live once you acclimate to the summer heat. What makes it a miserable place to live is all the homeless people and littered trash. After moving here July, 2017, I’ve seen two Asian homeless people, surprisingly not including myself, and zero Hispanic homeless. Because those are two ethnic groups of people who take care of their families, for better or worse. Black and white people don’t give a fuck about their family members. Paul is the only white guy I’ve ever seen take care of his drug addict brother. My old landlord has Alzheimers and his family could not give one fuck. They can’t wait until he dies. They let him drive when he shouldn’t. They leave him alone to be a nuisance to society. So what if he kills himself and other people on the road? Meh. Whatever it takes to get their inheritances faster.

Most of the homeless in my neighborhood are black, but on the Vegas strip it’s mostly white people. I don’t know if it’s because they have enough wit about them to know where they money is, or what, but I live by Fremont street/Art District, so obviously I don’t have money. It’s no coincidence the Art District is here. 

Yesterday some skinny, I mean super skinny, black girl was chasing after some guy with her skinny starved toddler bouncing on her hip. She was screaming hysterically after the guy, “This is your son! This is your son! Take care of your son!” When she couldn’t carry the toddler around any more she plopped him down on the 110 degree hot concrete sidewalk. The kid didn’t make a sound. He just sat there. Two of my neighbors, big black guys, came out to assist the girl, “Come on now, he don’t care about you. Let’s take care of this child. Let’s get ya’ll something to eat and get out of this heat.” Both men wanted to help the girl and her kid, but the girl wasn’t interested. “Mind your own damn business! This don’t concern you!” She screamed at the men who wanted to help. One of the nice men started to pick up the child from the hot sidewalk, but the girl smacked the man away from her kid. She picked up the toddler and continued chasing after the guy presumably the child’s father. She left both of the nice men behind staring after her in disbelief. My guess, the supposed father of her child sells drugs. She rather have drugs than help. 

Las Vegas. Barren wasteland. 

My life’s a circus...

An insane chain of circumstances.

— Never Had A Lot To Lose (Cheap Trick)

I left my apartment around 6pm. Miso came bounding out from the field. He followed me down the street as he usually does. He was confused that I was walking away from him and my building and just sat in the middle of the street. He was probably hungry. I returned to Miso, picked him up and headed back to my apartment to feed him. Just then his supposed human family chased after him. They collected him from my stairwell. Poor kitty. He was hungry. I only wanted to feed him.

“I’ve had this cat since he was a kitten. He’s two years old now. But the dog and the kids freak him out. He’s been microchipped, had his shots, and he’s been fixed. He’s totally fine coming to visit you. I’m sure he appreciates the peace and quiet at your place. I just wanted you to know he’s not a homeless cat.” His owners said, some lady, no wedding ring and her 5,000 illegitimate kids. She’s the third person to lay claim to Miso. 

And

No

He hasn’t been fixed.

Furthermore 

This is what Miso looked like when I started feeding him last January. He was cold, filthy, and starved. And you’re saying he was your cat back then? 

The following evening around 6pm Miso strutted out from the field (aka) the empty lot across the street. I opened my security gate and he was all love and cuddles. He was hungry. I gave him some wet food, a scoop of hard food, some water, changed his water dish that’s left for him outside, and when he was done eating, done cuddling, he went back out. Poor thing was just hungry. His supposed owners, all of them, never feed him. No one cares about Miso until someone else is loving him. 

As Miso went back outside some mom and her 12’ish year old daughter got into a verbal fight with kids up the street from me. I’ve seen this woman and her daughter before. The mom is a wealth of embarrassments. 40-something. 200 pounds. Wears leopard print yoga pants. No yoga. Just 200 pounds of pants. Walks with a seat-walker and fanny pack. Where she found a fanny pack big enough to go around her gut, who knows? Maybe she ordered it special online. The kids were throwing shade at each other so mom pulled out a taser and chased the kids with it, because that’s what reasonable moms do apparently. Mom was running, zapping, and screaming. Her fanny pack was bouncing along with the scrunchie in her hair. I didn’t see the mom or her daughter again after that. — Before the fight, before the taser, mom was being friendly calling Miso the neighborhood Oreo cat. Mom was friendly and cheerful as she told me the story of Miso trying to hunt birds. He’s so bad at it. — 20 minutes   later after mom zapped and ran down the street after the kids, police cars swarmed the street in the direction where mom ran. There might be a chance I won’t see her again for a while. It’s almost 8pm. The sun has gone down. The police lights flashing in the dark remind me of blinking Christmas lights. 

This morning when I went outside to see if there was a hungry stray cat, I saw someone had tossed out Miso’s water from his water bowl. How cruel. Humans are so repulsive.

“We must be better than the beasts.”

—Agatha Christie

Business deal you say? Talk to Aramis, because...

Came home this morning to my lights on again. And in case you think it’s me forgetting to flick my lights off when I leave at night, it’s not. The lights that are turned on, are lights I only use while reading or working on the computer. Plus just to make sure I wasn’t having a geriatric moment I filmed my apartment seconds before I left. No lights were left on. 

Did I tell you I have a stalker? I have a few but this guy is particularly devoted. 

He’s there every single night I work. He waits until my ride comes and then leaves when he sees I’m leaving. Same car. Same spot. Every night. He probably has keys to my apartment. God knows the building owner throws my apartment keys around like New York confetti on New Year’s. Loosening all the handles in my apartment. Poking little holes in my shirts. Ripping apart seams in my dresses. Stealing magnets off my fridge. Leaving my lights on. Renting is fun!

Oh look! The neighbor across the street parked one of his trucks in the lot! Right on top of the dirty infested mattress! Yeah! That’s right! You’re the boss! Fleas, bedbugs, hepatitis, and flesh eating bacteria don’t scare you! I think that neighbor has kids. Should be interesting to see how long until one of them gets sick and ends up in the hospital with a lung infection. I mean he parked his truck right over the filthy mattress. Nasty! Strangest neighborhood grudge match ever. 

Then later in the day...

COPS! 

The neighbors moved their truck from the lot, and now there’s two cop cars and an ambulance in front of the neighbor’s house. 

Cop cars in Vegas look like mini SUV’s. 

Strangest neighborhood grudge match ever. Over parking spots? I’m sure it started with something more but how petty that parking spots got involved. 

Speaking of petty...

I’m the ring master to the most unbelievable shit show on earth five nights a week. If you ever want to know the absolute horrors of human beings, get a job anywhere or live anywhere in Las Vegas. The people out here all act like they’re rich and famous divas while demanding FREE cups of water, and defacing your bathrooms. It’s unbelievable. No one says “please” or “thank you” out here. No one. What a disgrace. You do realize those cups, lids, and straws actually cost money for your FREE water, right? I offered to work the worst shift, with the laziest and most immature crew, just for the summer to help the scheduling manager who could not keep my position filled during these hours. Aaaaand now I know why. Won’t be making that same mistake next summer I assure you. Definitely going back to my old shift and crew. What’s that saying? Let no good deed go unpunished. Yep. Sounds about right. Shit show ring master. That’s my official job title until October. 

Def Leppard, has a residency in Vegas. On occasion I unfortunately encounter their fans. They’re my age only they look, god help them, many years older. They all wear the same cheap black and purple Def Leppard tee-shirt, the women still have shoulder length feathered hair, they’re all 75 pounds overweight, and they all have the same sad hopelessly plain expression on their faces. They remind me of my ex-husband. You know the type. He too never wanted the concert to end. If you go to their houses they have Def Leppard, mugs, posters, action figures, autographed drumsticks, etc, and they’re very proud of their Def Lep collections. They’re 50 year old fans who never want the concert to end. Could they at least be happy fans? Smile every once in a while? Why do they always look like they’re seconds away from slitting their wrists? “The concert is over? What??? NOOOOOO! WHY GOD?! WHYYYYYY!” 

Going to the bank in Las Vegas, is unlike any banking experience anywhere I’ve ever been. I was third in line. Third! The first in line was a woman and her girl friend. The two women regaled the bank teller with a very, very long story about a friend of theirs who was stung by a bee and suffered a hematoma. The second in line was a man who wanted $20 in two dollar bills. That’s all he wanted. Two dollar bills. Why? No reason. Just because. He didn’t have anything better to do I guess. The bank teller didn’t have two dollar bills at the ready, and so left the bank window in search of two dollar bills. I was third in line. By the time I actually got to the bank teller I completely forgot what I needed.

The DUECE bus driver just mentioned The Green Door. 🤦🏻‍♀️ Good lord. Every DUECE driver thinks he’s a radio DJ. This particular driver thinks he’s Swinger McSwingface. Maybe he’s looking for a date. Looking for love in all the wrong places!

“Where did you meet your swing partner?”

“On the bus.”

On the bus? Really? Wow. Sexy.

And speaking of the DUECE, this morning while heading home I endured fifteen minutes of middle aged black men smack talking a DUECE security guard. Gee, that was fun. I assure you it wasn’t. The RTC has a strict no-sleeping policy on the bus. There’s security guards on board to regulate those simple RTC rules. The rules being: sit down, no outside drinks, and don’t fall asleep on the bus. Simple. This morning however one guy fell asleep on the bus. That guy happened to be black. The security officer, who happens to be white, kept waking the guy up until the officer eventually just threw the guy off the bus. As the security officer was throwing the guy off the bus for sleeping, the guy threatened to murder the security officer because apparently that’s what reasonable people do. The bus then took off before anything else could happen. Aaaand because the guy who got thrown off the bus was black, three other middle aged black men who were still on the bus could not let it go that a white officer threw a black guy off the bus for not following the posted RTC rules. And so I had to endure fifteen nonstop minutes of three black men LOUDLY smack talking over each other, “He should have kicked that white cop’s ass! Motherfucker! Who the fuck does that white cop think he fucking is! Come throw me off the bus motherfucker! Come throw me off the fucking bus!” Etc. Etc. Jesus Christ. Etc. Ridiculous. Etc. Etc. Just shoot me now. Etc. Because apparently rules don’t apply to some black men? 

AND

Because the black men who were still on the bus chanted “white cop motherfucker” over and over, explain to me again who the racists are? If the security officer was black would there been a problem? Would those men have chanted “black cop motherfucker” instead?

Talk about that in your poli-sci civics language classes, teach’. 

Not long ago I was in a Starbucks enjoying the sweet elixir of life, caffeine. I stopped to pee before leaving. As I’m doing this someone banged in the door, twice. RUDE. Clearly the occupied sign is on the door but that doesn’t stop this A-hole from banging on the door. I finish peeing, wash my hands, leave the bathroom and ask the nice kids working the Starbucks if they saw who the A-hole was banging on the bathroom door. They point to a couple and say, “it was her. She lost her cell phone. She’s been screaming at us because she can’t find it.” - Yep. Sounds about right. It’s just so typical of people these days. They lose their stuff and somehow it becomes everyone else’s fault.

My long time friend Brian, recently got his ass handed to him by his wife. She wears the pants in the family. When she caught Brian texting with female coworkers about meetings and pot lucks, his wife considered that flirting and demanded Brian stop talking to all women. Myself included. I told Brian the reason she acts this way is because she’s not pretty. Well, she’s not. And I text that to him intentionally because she reads his text messages. Pretty girls get their own attention. If a pretty girl wants attention all she has to do is leave her house or post a picture. No one is paying attention to Brian’s wife, trust me. Once a woman loses her bloom, if she has nothing in her life other than a husband, she gets crazy obsessive with keeping him. I don’t blame him for not leaving her though. He’s 52 years old. Like he wants to be that single guy at 52? No, of course not. 

Headline news!  NEWSFLASH! sharks live in the ocean. Just another perfect example of how dumb people are. 

🙄

You have to deal with people nowadays like they’re the biggest morons on the planet.

BE CAREFUL water is wet.

BE CAREFUL hot coffee is hot.

BE CAREFUL ice is cold. 

BE CAREFUL don’t want you fall down make boo boo. 

That’s how you have to talk to people. 

It’s interesting to me how liberal media applaud themselves, pat themselves on the back for reporting stories of people killing wild animals as Stories We Need Right Now. Really? Murdering animals are Stories We Need Right Now? I’m rooting for the coyote!  

Makes you wonder who’s causing the negative reporting and mass hysteria to begin with, eh? It’s easy to be the hero putting out methodical fires that you started. But one day those fires will get away from you. It’ll destroy everything you worked so hard at to manipulate and connive. The result is only ruination and despair. Just ask my dad’s first wife how happy her life has been these past forty years.

Yep. Single. Can’t imagine why.

Good morning from the utterly disgusting barren wasteland. 

All the ships at Treasure Island, are lit up. Christmas must be coming.

Last night coming home from work some overly creepy guy was in the lot across the street. He was looking for something and then Miso came bounding out of the lot and ran across the street to me. The creep took off after that. You do realize I value the lives of animals more than humans, right? Something everyone should keep in mind. The day society returns to being sophisticated and civilized, is the day I’ll value humans more. Until then...

Karma! Hurt an animal, regardless of the circumstance, the universe will return in kind to you or someone you love. I promise. And there’s a lot of Karma going around, isn’t there? Rhetorical question. Americans know how to commit violence and murder each other. We’re good at it. PURGE!!

And then today

I pulled out yet another shirt from my closet that mysteriously has tiny holes poked in it. That’s the third shirt I found with holes poked in it. When I’m not home my shirts and other household items get holes poked into them. Usually, among other things, someone just turns on my lights and leaves them on. Renting is fun. 

I’ve been sitting on my front stoop for the last five minutes, waiting to see if the stray cat wants to eat before I got to work, just watching all the hobos and junkies. 

They’re repaving the the parking lots around my apartment building. Don’t spend any money getting rid of the homeless people who use the front yard as their bathrooms, or the junkies who try breaking into our security gates every month, nope, just slap a phony ridiculous security sticker on the door, because there’s nothing junkies like more than reading small print on stickers and following instructions. Nope. Instead just repave the parking lot. I had a roommate once, who one month paid the cable bill but not the electric bill. He used the money we gave him for all the bills to take out some girl, alas had the presence of mind to pay the cable bill with the money he had left over after his date rather than the electric bill. Smart. He figured it out after DWP shut off our electricity. 

I had to attend a 5am work meeting this morning. And the meeting was about... wait for it... it was about coming to work on time and doing the job you were hired to do. Yes, people. There was a meeting for that. Took an hour. Why is it so hard for some people? If you were hired to do a job, you come to work when you’re scheduled, you do the job you were hired to do, agreed to do, and then leave at the end of the day. And yet so many people can not grasp this concept. It was a mandatory meeting. Everyone had to go so no one felt singled out. So no one’s feelings got hurt. 

🙄

The reason why good help is hard to find is because incompetence is rewarded, and strong hard working employees get penalized for not carrying the weight of incompetence. God forbid incompetence get their feelings hurt by being fired for not doing the job they were hired to do. Dumb. It’s actually very hard to fire an employee just for being lazy and useless, but if you defend yourself from an attacker, you’re suspended and investigated, and then most likely fired. This is the world we live in. 

The people who own the building beside the empty lot across the street from me, is in a property grudge match with their neighbors, and the homeless. The neighbors have something like a dozen vehicles and often times park two trucks in the empty lot. I have no idea who owns the lot. I assumed it was the owners of the apartment building. But for the last week there’s been an old mattress, and a silver car belonging to someone from the apartment building, in the two spaces where the neighbors used to park their extra trucks. 

Old mattresses are goldmines for the homeless. One homeless guy used to hide his filthy mattress in the bushes in front of my building which stopped lost drunk Fremont Street tourists from passing out there, but only for a little while. You know, standards. They much rather pass out on bum urine and dog poo than a rancid bug infested filthy mattress. But this particular mattress across the street has not moved in a week. I’m guessing neither the apartment building owners, or their neighbors want to move it, not without a crane anyway. It’s pretty brave someone actually parked their car so close to the mattress. But now the neighbors have no place to park their extra trucks. Strangest grudge match ever. 

Maybe it’s a secret murder plot, like how the US government intentionally gave Native Americans diseased blankets as a more economic way to murder them in order to spare bullets. I mean what better way to murder someone quietly, right? Set out a contaminated mattress for the neighbors to move? Blame it on the homeless. It’s brilliant. — This is why Aramis does all the talking regarding business endeavors by the way. I’m not allowed to talk to anybody. I start ranting about the US government robbing, raping, and murdering Native Americans, which always results with people arguing, “What? That’s fiction! Let’s pay more taxes!” 

Is there going to be a recession in 2021? Scary. Looks like it though, right? I’ll be 52 years old in 2021. That’s even more scary. Oh sure I’ll still look amazing. But... 52.

I never did buy that urn. Changed my mind at the last minute. I don’t want some online store bought conveyer belt made urn other people can purchase to ash eternal in. I want something unique. Like an antique spice box. My ex father-in-law hand carved a gorgeous little jewelry box with my initials on it as a wedding gift. If it were bigger I’d ash in there. Did I ever tell you about the short story I wrote about a group of 40/50 year old friends getting the ashes of their deceased childhood friend to his requested final resting place? It’s a dark comedy but I want it filmed like a Texas Chainsaw horror flick. 

Did I tell you about the small lumps under the skin of my left forearm? I think they’re blocking off blood flow to my hand. My hand gets numb very fast when I bend my elbow. Then again my right hand has been getting numb rather quickly also when I bend my elbow with no lumps on the forearm. I do take a lot of Advil. I go through a bottle of 24 tablets a month. I’m in so much physical pain all the time. I hate, absolutely hate, walking up stairs and I live in a second floor walk-up. The joys of getting old. Buying tennis balls for my walker as I type this.

“But you look amazing. Great skin.”

I much rather look old and feel amazing, than look amazing and feel old. One day maybe you’ll understand. 

It completely disgusts me when 20 and 30 year old guys hit on me. My interest in men age-wise is 50-70. Of course most single men in that age range need nurses to take care of them, meds, nappies, and anger management. No thank you. Still, I need men to be my age or older, not younger. I’m hard wired that way. Most of society is. It’s just one of those hypocrisies for the betterment of society. Have your artsy, online, behind closed doors fun. Fine. Regardless, men need to continue playing respectable masculine roles in society. 

Whatever couples do in the bedroom, that’s entirely your business, but out in society we need men, who gender identify as men, to play respectable masculine roles to once more begin progressing healthy social development. Just as women, who in public gender identify as women, need not forget they are ladies when out in public. And in doing so, people of the world, I give you a cleaner, more livable civilization, once was. 

I’d love to see this show but, nope. 

Can’t do it. Not after the last free concert at Fremont Street. Blogged here: Head like a... hole? 

Head like a... hole?

Where do I begin?

I hope Buckcherry made gobs of money for that gig. It was ridiculous. There’s two sets of metal detectors on Fremont Street, FYI those of you considering attending any future free shows. Enter through the metal detectors by the ABC store, not the ones by the alcohol stands or you’re going to be stuck in a smelly human traffic jam forever. - They make you toss your drinks before you enter through the metal detectors. Sure it’s a “free show” but you have to re-purchase your drinks for like $15 a beer. 

Next...

The people attending the show. 

The attire was Suicidal Tendencies & DARE tee-shirts. I did not get the memo. And let’s not forget all the single moms bouncing their toddlers on their hips while trying to find some place to store their strollers. One mom asked a store cashier to watch her stroller. Of course the cashier said no. I’m surprised mom didn’t ask the cashier to also watch her baby. Who brings a toddler to a concert, outdoors, on Fremont street, at 10pm? Crackerjack parenting there lady. 

The trick to plowing through a concert crowd is to get behind the biggest drunkest guy and ride his wing. I hung onto the wing of some military looking guy wearing a green tank top with the name STAAL on the back. Thanks. Much appreciated. 

Josh Todd looked like he wanted to be anywhere but on that stage. His WTF resting bitch face was on point. We all have to make a living, right? I can relate. I bailed after the fourth song, sorry. Head Like a Hole, was the first song they played. I left during I Love Cocain. No more Fremont Street free concerts for me. Because it was early I was going to hit the strip, but went home and watched a movie instead. Aaahhh peace and quiet. I should know by now, any time I’m really feeling it, any time I’m in the mood to be social, Las Vegas is NOT the place, for me anyway.

Also, how insulted are all the local bands who play Fremont Street every weekend without metal detectors? 

Dear Dodo,

What’s with all the animals being found in the water? I’m from Minnesota. Land of 10,000 Lakes. I never once found cats, baby deer, squirrels, or any land animal stranded in the water swimming for its life. I’m convinced these precious little creatures are being tossed into the water by their so-called heroes just to make Dodo videos. Disgraceful. 

(Sigh)

Ok

I saw it.

Crazy Rich Asians

I was so against watching this movie just because of the name and preview. But I finally watched it.

First of all, it’s no wonder the hotel didn’t want that Asian woman and her shitty kids staying there. Her poorly raised children were purposely making a mess on the hotel rug with mud from the bottom of their shoes. Mom didn’t say shit to them. I’d want their disrespectful asses out of my hotel too. 

Secondly, if the hotel employees were truly racists, they’d tell that Asian woman to go back to whatever fucked up country she came from where children are allowed to destroy private property, not Chinatown. And that’s not being racists. Not really. I would have told that bitch to go to Chinatown, or hell. Racists would have told her to go back to her country. And really, is that being racist? I think not. It sounds more like a plea rather than an insult. For the love of god please go back! 

Also, Christianity is a white man’s religion. Which is fine if Asians want to practice it, whatever, but there is nothing more white, nothing more “ABC” than practicing a white man’s religion. Asians can throw fake-Asian shade at me, but if you’re wearing a crucifix while doing it, or reading the Bible, you can just go back to wherever you came from, and fuck off. 

I watched the movie, Rachel! 

Anyway

SO

Smith Card Company...

Be happy with nothing

Check Your Head 🤕

Dear ex Navy Seal, with big ideas

You rather a dog, smart he may be, take the place of actual law enforcement when there’s a school shooting? 

Really? 

Wow

Yeah. No.

Do these dogs have opposable thumbs to shoot a round of hellfire into the gunman? 

“I rather it be the dog, than a kid.” He said.

OR

How about actual law enforcement, hence the title of their occupation?

Having a trained military dog in schools isn’t going to stop nutjobs. It merely sounds like you want dogs to magically leap in front of flying bullets, much in the same way some other idiot had the bright idea to strap bombs onto trained dolphins to sink enemy submarines. But WHAT IF that dog or dolphin, like any living creature, has instincts and a mind of its own? 

We have a severe mental illness epidemic, which I believe has the same origin as those convinced they are allergic to gluten. Do I believe that people who think they’re allergic to gluten may suffer from a little mental illness? Yes. Yes I do. To be so easily duped by suggestive selling... when medical professionals across the board have asked the one question, “Are you drinking enough water?” Not as a suggestion but as a matter of obvious medical scientific health (we) being primarily made up of water. 

Likewise

Speaking of mental illness 

What is the deal with men standing next to me and whistling while staring into their phones? Why are you whistling? Why are you standing so close to me? Why is this happening more than once? Just go about your business. You have nothing I want. If you need to whistle to get attention, you lack every personal skill that attracts me to a man. 

I really miss LA sometimes. See and be seen, is a foreign concept to people in Las Vegas. 

Before my time, men and women could pass each other on the street, stand next to each other, say good morning, nothing more, and move on, civilized. Nowadays if a man says good morning to me, his intention for doing so requires mace and a restraining order. 

People use words like “common courtesy” to exploit their personal agenda of desperate attention and immediate personal gratification. And they behave this way because human beings have become uncivilized. Look at all the garbage on the streets today. I thought the litter in Los Angeles, was bad. Nothing rivals the litter in Las Vegas. I have seen people, countless times, throwing empty cans, cups, and bottles on the ground rather than finding a trash can. If this is how they treat where they live, where they’re visiting, just imagine how awful they’ll treat you and your home. Human beings are so uncivilized. It’s become the norm. It’s not just that we’re desensitized, it’s that we’re decisively uncivilized. 

Back when I was young and adorable, when no one could resist me, I was still civilized. — Please. Thank you. Clean appearance. Clean surroundings. Minded my own business. Mindful of the people nearby. — You know, civilized.

Find the promotional source of gluten allergies and additionally you’ll find the source of so much mental unrest. No question. You know who you are. 

FYI. It’s not “the” Buck cherry. It’s one word, Buckcherry, and they’re a band. Oye.

Walk the line

Sam Phillips: You know exactly what I’m telling you. We’ve already heard that song a hundred times. Just like that. Just… like… how… you… sing it.

Johnny Cash: Well you didn’t let us bring it home.

Sam Phillips: Bring… bring it home? All right, let’s bring it home. If you was hit by a truck and you was lying out there in that gutter dying, and you had time to sing one song. Huh? One song that people would remember before you’re dirt. One song that would let God know how you felt about your time here on Earth. One song that would sum you up. You tellin’ me that’s the song you’d sing? That same Jimmy Davis tune we hear on the radio all day, about your peace within, and how it’s real, and how you’re gonna shout it? Or… would you sing somethin’ different. Somethin’ real. Somethin’ you felt. Cause I’m telling you right now, that’s the kind of song people want to hear. That’s the kind of song that truly saves people. It ain’t got nothin to do with believin’ in God, Mr. Cash. It has to do with believin’ in yourself.

Damnit Alex, answer me!

I got text bot’ed by a 310 phone number similar to mine. “‘Sup” was all the text read. Pathetic. First of all, it better have been a bot. No one should ever speak that way. Disgraceful. Uncivilized, Aramis would say. 

All the good people I will ever know, I years ago have already met, and regret nothing what comes after and with whom. Much like how you people throw away your mentally ill family members. Madonna, for example. Reportedly that bitch couldn’t give one fuck about her homeless brother. I remember watching the report in 2011 and again in an updated interview in 2013. Her brother was living on a park bench in Michigan. He reached out to Madonna for help, several times, and she, according to him, couldn’t care less. 

Yep. Sounds about right. 

Sometimes I just look out my window with a cup of tea and observe every day madness. 

Some guy is hunched over in my building’s front stoop area. I recognize him. I’ve seen him before. 

“Alex. Alex. Alex. How much do you think we can get for these spiders Alex?” He asks while plucking invisible spiders from my front stoop. 

“Alex?”

No response.

“Alex. Alex. Alex. How much, Alex?”

Again, no response.

“Answer me, Alex! How much do you think we can get for these spiders? Alex. Answer me. Alex. Alex. I don’t have all day.”

No, actually I’m pretty sure you do have all day. You’re one of the homeless guys who naps on my sidewalk. 

“Look at all these spiders, Alex. How much do you think we can get for these spiders?”

He’s by himself by the way. 

Ten minutes later he crossed the street plucking invisible spiders from the sidewalk, still trying to get Alex’s attention. He’s not among the dangerous group of homeless though. There’s a 300 pound filthy disgusting man, quite possibly has turrets, who carries a broken piece of two foot timber spiked at one end. Stained in red. He would no doubt murder anyone who stood in between him and a cheeseburger. Why are the craziest ones always so fat? Are they eating people? If he’s eating people I can forgive him. Population control. Nonetheless, I’m certain to be killed coming home from work one night.

Be that, it seems as though death will be the only way to stop my menstrual cycle. I’m 50 years old and still needing to buy tampons. So there’s that.