Disclaimer: This has no merit whatsoever. Reading this as a document about race or race relations in America would not only be unwise, it would probably be bad for your health. Don’t blame me if you find yourself harmed by the string of bad words and insensitive phrases that follow. Besides, I’m only half a spic, what the fuck do I know?
So, some people are talking about the recent attack on a Mexican family in Arizona which resulted in the death of Raul Flores and his nine year old daughter, and left his wife wounded. I have a feeling that if we weren’t all going crazy about Iran Democracy, this might be a little more in the news, but probably not much. And I know what you’re thinking, “Oh, so a dead Mexican can’t even get a news story in this damn xenophobic-ass country,” but you’d be wrong-at least according to me.
This is a shitty story to begin with. While it does have the news-worthy element of white-supremacists killing a nine year old child in an attempt to cleanse the country of her dirty darkie blood, that’s not really what happened, even though I suppose the child death could be considered a point for the white people in this specific situation. Everybody knows that the leading producers of more, ring-worm infested Mexicans are unwed, pre-teen Mexican girls. Ten points lil’ Hitler.
The fact that Raul Flores was a suspected drug dealer, and the rag-tag team of Aryan Nation rejects that killed him admit to being after his drug money (and probably his drugs as well) makes this a really shitty ‘race war’ story. If I was a white power meth head (are there any other kind in Arizona?) and I needed money for drugs, who would I kill? Probably a Mexican. Especially probably a Mexican who had drugs in addition to money, this is basically a two-birds-with-one-stone special.
I don’t know how many white power meth heads you’ve had the pleasure to encounter, but I have met a few, enough for a lifetime, really. And I have to tell you from experience, that they talk a lot about killing the mudbloods. The pressure to cleanse the race is strong in this social subset, and I’m sure that anybody eating lunch with the Jr. Aryan Nation Scouts is going to feel about as insecure about their low kill rate as the cheerleaders feel about their ankle fat (really, really, like OMG insecure for sure).
So when you think about it, raining a hail of badly aimed .38 caliber bullets into the hands, wists, lungs and skulls of some upstart, spic drug dealer and his family is actually something like killing 3 birds with one stone. This is starting to look like the same stone that killed JFK.
What it must feel like to be poor, meth addicted and white in the middle of border-town Arizona, where you can’t even sell drugs because that god damn beaner, Raul Flores has that market cornered, and the speed psychosis is working it’s way into your dilapidated grey matter, making everything seem so fucking clear to you now. Kill Raul, take his drugs, and use the millions he surely has stored in his clap-board barrio shack to raise a white people army to make you their king, and then all those fuckers behind the bowling alley will fucking recognize that you kill darkies too, god dammit!!
But first: there is a bug under your skin, and only the hedge clippers will get it out.
But what if I dream of pretentious bourgeois shit while my parents pay for college so I can smoke pot and aspire to high ideals instead of taking real action to enact physical change in my surroundings?
Jun 08
You Know Who
Paradise
555.FUCK.YOU
you_suck_go_die@yahoo.com
June 08, 2009
Sucker
Queen of Being a Lame Looser
1615 Idiot Ave Apt. #Eat a Dick
Suckerville, State of Depression, You’re So Fat You Have Your Own Zip Code
Dear Sucker,
Thank you for thinking that I was a good influence long enough for me to take everything from you.
If only you weren’t so bitter about what happened, you’d see how great it is here. All the women are beautiful, with traumatic sexual histories that cause them to love fellatio and hate cunnilingus. And their self esteem! It’s so low that I can hardly rest between energetic fuck sessions in which I reassure them (one by one or in groups) that they are lovable, even if they are not loved.
All of the babies have been aborted and all of the Gods are judgmental old white men.
Everybody’s so helpful and glad to see me. I’m so happy I took everything from you. Your loss has been particularly helpful in making me so universally well liked and adored.
Don’t Ever Change,
Your Misogynistic Self Hatred, XOXO *hearts*
I wrote a comic. I took a picture of each panel with my cell phone. I don’t know if the letters are coming through clear enough so I’m going to write it under each panel.
“Oh Dr. Banner, your sex is like magic”
*’SPLODE*blood*
“Oops. Hulk guess it doesn’t just happen when hulk angry”
I just made a list of movie suggestions on twitter that I rather liked the language in, so I’ll paste them down here and clean them up a little as if I made something new.
If you thought Brick needed more gay rape, Mysterious Skin is in order. You should also read Crooked Little Vein by Warren Ellis.
If you like Mysterious Skin, get other Greg Araki films. Nowhere and The Living End are best. Check out My Best Friend Is a Vampire for 80s lols
Female Perversions with Tilda Swinton for feminist theories as applied to a racy 90s sex flick. Breakfast on Pluto= light hearted modern drag/tranny flick
The Dreamers if you want to feel sad and alone in a sweet way. Desperado if you’re feeling chilly and want indy action flick
Happiness if you want a slice of good old American perversion and depravity with comedic sequences about failed child rape.
Bad Education (spain) is for you’re thinking negatively about old lovers and wanting them to suffer.
Cecil B Demented, Hairspray, Pink Flamingos, Pecker and any thing else by John Waters are good for when you want some lols with your dirty gay movie
City of Lost Children (french) is good on a Sunday night with a blanket and some wine, maybe a joint.
Happy Endings is sweet in the same way that real life can be sweet sometimes.
Old boy (korean) is the most horrible thing you’ll ever see until you see Audition (japanese)
That’s about all I can think of.
What did I leave out? Based on this illustrious list, what would you recommend? I’ve been looking for some new fringe indy cinema and failing at finding any I like.
I pulled this off of the freestyle thread on the Keith and the Girl forums. Just in case it gets deleted. Many are cheesy and only relevent to the post and/or day that they were made on, but I like them so I’m not changing a thing.
This thread is awesome opossum, and all the other animals.
I think my rymes are fine, you know marina brings the lolz.
I was just jerkin my gerkin, over a the youporn thread
I like it when they work the shaft and then suck on the head
You people know I’m go and all the lights are green
this shit is mad and bad, here at the katg scene.
I used the word thread twice, at least I didn’t try to rhyme it with itself. I didn’t even realize til just now
You have to make it rhyme, like this:
I’m totally addicted to the KATG Forums
My man says he is leaving,
And you know I just ignore him
It’s okay though, while I’m still breathing
he may be angry, he may be seething
But I am the one
Who makes it so fun
To live and Die in Anaheim
‘Cause I am his and he is mine
True love geek style,
M4K3S M3 TYP3 W1LD
I think that maybe, you just got pnowed
I gotta find my baby, so we can bone
Pre-marital victory sex, I do condone.
I agree with be leaves
just give me some of these…
Islamic titties
Allah ack-bar
Give me some more
Girls who wear lipstick
Under their Niqabb
Are girls who work dipsticks
Like it’s thier night-job
Give me rebels
Shi-ite and Suni
This white devil
Loves Eastern Booty
Just Kidding you guys
I’m straight, and not white
I don’t give one clean fuck
about other girls head-lights
I just wondered if I had good luck
Rhyming about islam, boobs and such.
Now I know that you’re feelin’ me
Although I think that moonrose is for peace
And not for Bin Ladin,
That stupid hot-head
That man just needs to get laid
72 vigins is no way to get paid
Christian, Muslim, Jewish or other
Can’t we all be sisters and brothers?
Life is too short
Tell your cohorts
Blowing yourself up
Will not spread love
Where’s that white dove?
Time to rise above
Well that’s all I got
This is my seceret plot
To turn freestyle battle
Into the Freestyle peace talks
Kirstin Dunst?
Oh, fuck that cunt!
As for this being the united nations
With you I’ll have to have some patience
Besides America, the Iraq and the Asians
On these forums, we have people from all places
You sir, are canadian,
To my country you are alien
Over here we’ve got the Duchies
To the south you’ll see the Kiwis
Look around at all these countries
That are gathered in this place.
We have members from every race
Saint Marcos, it’s time to embrace
The truth and it is this:
Next time you try to dis
This particular “princess”
Realize this shit
There is something I don’t need
And that is to be mean
Cruelty is for weenies
Who think that they impede
me with their screaming
when really they don’t see,
They’re up against a Queen.
I think you see now that in so-cal this is how we wow the crowd
Marina has beat ya at this creature and you thought you had it down
Sorry to say friend, I’m not some egg-head
I read the news and, I’ve had to count the dead
I feel like this shit has got to end
When are we going to send
Our children to college
Instead of through carnage?
How much is too much?
To see young bucks in crutches
Missing legs, pissin’ blades
Youth laid waste is too much to pay
For someone else’s voracious rapacious
Racist-assed monopolies.
These “rap atrocities”
are not anomalies.
You are being contradictory
Please get straight with me
What is it you believe?
That shit’s pretty long
for a fucking swan song
Man, that was a neutron bomb
I’m coming at you like IEDs
When you’re done with me
You’ll remember these:
Thou whilst not spit game that, while rhyming makes no sense
Thou shalt not dis men who have bad timing but good concepts
Thou would not incense me by incessant whining and not being honest
You are not the shit,
In fact, you’re a bitch
These are the commandments
I have to demand this
From n00bs who need practice
Do me a favor and take this poultice:
Come back after solstice
When you can do something besides take a piss.
Thank you G3 for your suggestion of solstice as a rhyme for practice.
If you don’t know what FML is, click here.
So I took my Grandma out to lunch for her birthday this Saturday and learned some fun new things my shit family has decided are true about me. Well, I always knew that they thought a few of them, but as we’re all adults now (some of us have been for decades) I’m pretty pissed that they can’t wise up and stop repeating school-yard rumors.
So, because my mom was a heroin addicted homeless person, I was raised by my grandma and her husband who hit me, and made it known that I was less valuable than shit on his shoe for every waking moment of my young life.
Whatever, that’s over I’m a gown up person now and I have a lot of years of 12 stepping behind me. I try to act like a human adult instead of an abused child so that’s just context.
Anyway, because I was raised by these people, they had the funds to send me to a lower budget private school until 8th grade. It was basically the hippie equivalent of Catholic school. Because I was a poor, fat orphan with bad social skills and thrift store clothes this was a horrible experience for me. Those kids were piranhas and I was an injured hippo. This is also context.
I moved with my mom to the eastern edge of L.A. county for a decent public high school experience where she discovered that copious amounts of prescription drugs don’t count against sobriety. By Junior year she would keep me up all night with her crazy druggie antics and babbling, and when I finally went to sleep she would start screaming at me, calling me names and drag me from my bed by my ankles, all the while I’m trying to figure out what the fuck is happening.
In her less demonstrative moments she would take my hand, sit next to me and explain how much she worried about my obvious inability to function, tell me that she really couldn’t see how I could take care of myself because I was so clearly an emotionally stunted retard. If I got into college–and that was looking unlikely to her– I would have to live with her because I was so incapable of being responsible that I would surely fail out and die. At this time I was working two part time jobs, performing insanely well academically, buying my own groceries and clothes and trying to stay sane.
Despite the fact that she had me at least 80% convinced that I was fundamentally bad, stupid and generally incapable of life without her, I was also sure that her behavior had started to affect my school work, and her yelling had elevated to shoving and her shoving had elevated to shaking, and I didn’t want to stick around for the next step. I finally left and moved into Kate’s garage. With a combination of the kindness of friends, and strangers I only had to sleep in my car 3 separate nights. My father gave me a beat-up Chrysler and my grandma gave me $50 a month for books. The rest was my hard work.
By Junior year I was taking 5 classes and working 50 hours a week. I got in three separate car accidents because I fell asleep at the wheel and woke up at green lights in the empty early-morning streets more times than I care to remember. The only thing I regret is that I put a burden on my friends by living with them without paying rent.
That was all context also. I hope that it didn’t come off too self-righteous. I know that it must have at least a little because I happen to be feeling very self-righteous right now. All of that text was a set-up to the real subject of this blog. I understand that my struggle is not unique, everyone suffers etc. I hope that I was able to convey a sense of my experience without attempting to invoke anyone’s pity or make any one else feel badly in any way. Fuck you if I did, you could have stopped reading at any time (I’m sure most of you already have).
Anyway, my grandmother that raised me has a son who feels that I got all the good things that he never had. He feels abandoned by his mother because my addict mom got all the attention when they were kids and I got all the attention when she turned out to be a shit parent. He was raised by the same two people that I was, and in fact it is my understanding that our horrible monster of a father figure was less jazzed about boxing children when my uncle was under his care. It seems to be a passion he discovered as he got older. Yay for me.
So despite his and my common experience of being raised in this hellish mess of a household–because let’s face it, just because grandpa got more punchy doesn’t mean he wasn’t always a piece of shit asshole–my dear uncle assumes that I am some sort of Pikenees-person, pampered and privileged.
When I bought the car I currently own out of my own student loan money, he was on the phone to my grandma in what seemed like hours, asking for her to pay several thousand for him (a grown man) to get his entire house re-carpeted because I (a college student) got a new car. He refused to believe that I was capable of buying a car for myself and continues to tell his children that I’ve always gotten everything I ever wanted, that my college was paid for and that the only reason I am successful today is because I got everything he (and they) never had.
And then he calls me, sweet as pie, and tells me how impressed he is with me, how he wonders how I have accomplished so much in my young life, “I mean if I knew your secret…”
At first, I would start telling him about my 12-step program because in my mind, it is probably the thing most responsible for my sanity. But he doesn’t want to hear about it, he’s waiting for me to break down and admit that I got everything and he got nothing. Yeah, I got all the punches in the head, I got all the hiding in the yard waiting for that bastard to move to another part of the house so I could sneak into my room. I got all the feeling really inadequate with all the other kids and their money and parents that loved them, and I got all of the waking up with silverfish in my hair because I lived in a fucking garage! (No offense Kate, a garage is better than a street corner. It’s just that it did have silverfish in it sometimes.)
Dear uncle, I’m sorry that you couldn’t care for your children because you never fucking grew up and I’m sorry that you’re experiencing sibling rivalry with someone 25 years your junior. I’m very sorry that you have decided to live in my shadow but please stop telling your children that I am some sort of princess. They never met the man that raised us. Only we know what he’s really like. You telling them that my sweet grandparents just threw money and love down on me is completely wrong, and you know that.
And don’t try to deny it, or why else would my cousin call my grandma and complain that I had college paid for and he doesn’t? Where would he get that delusion except from your lying mouth? Now your son has one more reason for being an unaccomplished loser drifter just like you. Now your child can lay around and do nothing all the while thinking that he is unable to care for himself.
Thank God I got nothing, because by the time I was his age if I wanted a place to lie around and be lazy in, it was called the motherfucking sidewalk. Thank God I had no parents because if I’d had you all up in my ears, telling me to blame someone else for your shitty parenting, I’d probably be just as whiny and entitled as your dough faced brat.
Even if I was the debutante that you think I am, that’s no reason to blame a child for your own children’s lack of support. Why is it that so many people just think that things should be handed to them, and when they’re not, they whine and cry about how unfair it is? No wonder you’re a failure. It’s just sad you’re making your kid into one too.
Dear cousin, you seem to be a somewhat level-headed, creative young person. I’m sorry that you think I’m a spoiled brat. I feel the same way about you. However, whatever we think of each other is irrelevant, as I hope to never have to deal with you after our grandmother passes away (god forbid, but we all know she’s not getting any younger). It does seem to me that I at least owe you this much: I put myself through private college in Orange County, Ca. I was able to live indoors the whole time except for the aforementioned three nights in the car. I graduated in four years and I now have a job I love and a decent paycheck for someone my age (24). If you choose to think that I was unable to do this on my own, then you will also think that you are unable to do this on your own. This is untrue. Please get a job and learn to support yourself, you’ll be much happier for it. Goodbye.
I found these on my computer tonight, and I realized that I never posted them. I drew them both on the same day, sometime in college. Junior or Senior year.
