Northern Pride

                Well, here’s my big chance to write something and I don’t know what the hell to write about.  I could write about how stupid Christmas is, but who the fuck cares about that?  As with pretty much everything, you either like Christmas, you don’t like Christmas, or you don’t give a fuck about Christmas.  I fall into the latter 2 categories.  I do, however, have a theory that I might as well lay on you.  Christmas falls a few days after the Winter Solstice.  At least it does here.  My friends in Australia had never seen snow and Christmas shows up right when the weather’s getting good and fuckin hot.  They’re still singing about White Christmas and Frosty the Snowman and all that shit though.  But fuck them.  I’ve got Northern Hemisphere pride.  We’re on TOP!  Is that our slogan?  If it is, we should change it cos that kinda sucks.

                Anyway, my goddam theory is that winter is cold, dark and miserable.  That’s actually not a theory.  It's just the way it is.  Winter is indeed cold, dark and miserable.  Unless you live somewhere where it isn’t, but if you do then I’m sure you have other problems.  But yeah, winter sucks and just as it kicks in a lot of folks get depressed, begin thinking about killing themselves and/or their families.  So, just as a reminder to everybody to not get all freaked out and do something terrible, we have a holiday that just about everybody seems to celebrate even if they think that Christianity is a crock of shit.  They give each other things, they receive gifts from others.  They eat a bunch of food with people they love.  They’re prompted to keep in mind that they love people, that people love them, that just cos it’s dark at 4 in the afternoon and it’s 5 degrees out that they shouldn’t do anything rash, shouldn’t turn to permanent solutions to temporary problems.

                This can easily backfire, and I’m certain that it does.  Fuckers realize that nobody cares about them.  Then they blow the rent money trying to buy crap for people that they decide that they don’t even really know.  A box shows up from some schmuck you haven’t seen in 5 years, containing a V-neck sweater that you’ll never wear.  And a goddam fruitcake, which is the lamest joke of the holiday season.  Everybody knows that fruitcake sucks, nobody wants to fuckin eat it, yet there it is anyway.  It’s like mailing somebody a dog turd and snickering about it when they thank you for it.  I think.  I’ve never actually mailed anybody a dog turd nor have I been present when somebody unwrapped one under the mistletoe, but I can imagine.  That’s actually a good cheap gift idea for anybody who was thinking about buying a fruitcake and standing in line with it at the post office for an hour.  Be festive.  Spray paint it red and green. 

                That’s another thing, Christmas ruined red and green.  Those are the only two complimentary colors on the color wheel that actually compliment one another.  Blue and orange look pretty awful together.  Purple and yellow are even worse.  I’m a Minnesota Vikings fan but purple and yellow look like shit together.  But green and red look okay.  Only now if I wear green jeans and a red t-shirt I look like Santa’s little helper or something so I don’t wear that combo if I’m paying attention.  If looking like an elf at the North Pole is the worst thing that happens to me in a day though, I’m doing pretty good.  OK.  I think that this is about enough of this.  Or if you’re still reading this bullshit then you can think to yourself:   That’s about enough of that.

A Caffeinated Excercise in Pointlessness

                So I’ve spent a little time lately reflecting.  That’s because I’m a shiny piece of plastic.  Just kidding.  I’m actually a fuckin mirror.  Ok, but seriously.  I’ve been thinking about some stuff.  I know, I know, who the fuck hasn’t been thinking about some stuff?  That’s pretty much what you do, aside from doing stuff.  It’s the essence of reality, and each of us has our own reality.  Right now, my reality is a buncha fuckin bullshit, but what’re ya gonna do?  They give me pills that persuade me to keep dwelling in it, so I guess I’m staying on the ride.

                I recently spent a wek in jail and it looks like I’ll be spending a bunch more weeks in jail over the next months to come.  As I sat in Ramsey County jail in St. Paul, awaiting judgement on my fate for driving drunk in 19 ninety fucking six, I watched the deputies playing grab-ass with each other at their little station in the hallway from between 2 sets of iron and plexiglass.  They were all fat.  I’m a skinny little dude, so just about everybody looks a little fat to me, but these fuckers were fat.  Actually, one of them was a kinda cute petite lady, but she looked fat, too.  Maybe it’s the uniform.  I’ve noticed that no matter how pretty the female cop is, she always winds up with a severe case of deputy butt that kinda diminishes the other aspects of her physical beauty.  It’s gotta be the pants.  Either that or cops have defied the law of averages by never producing one female officer who has a nice ass.

                Where the fuck was I going with this?  I got all sidetracked with my deputy butt theory.  It’s a theory that a university will no doubt research now that I’ve brought it to light, but it wasn’t why I sat down to write.  Honestly, I’m not sure why the hell I’m writing right now but I know that that wasn’t the reason.  Anyway, most of the cops were a bunch of lard asses.  And not very bright, either.  Or friendly.  Yep.  A bunch of fat, cranky jerkoffs, those cops were.  They all seemed to like one another though, so that’s nice.  At least somebody likes these assholes besides their mothers.  One of them was this Amazonian behemoth who looked like she supplemented her make-up drawer with gallons of pastel house paint.  She already probably went about 200, then we’re talkin about 215 after she gussied herself up for work.  The fat male cops looked like they were using every charm technique that they had picked up over their long, miserable lives in a vain effort to court this monster.  One good reason to not be a deputy at the Ramsey County jail is that you’ll run nearly zero risk of getting sucked into that particular soap opera.

                Still not sure what the fuck I’m talkin about here.  I guess it just occurred to me as I watched these poor jerks earn a buck that that’s exactly what they were doing.  Earning a buck.  And any one of them could easily be sitting in the tank with us, decked out in orange, waiting to see how hard the hammer  was gonna fall.  All it takes is one too many beers before you drive home from the Superbowl party or one drag out argument with your wife and WHAMMO!  You’re stuck in the soul grinder that is the American justice system.  Once in a while there are deputies that seem to realize this, that everybody in county jail isn’t some kinda child-molesting, bank robbing terrorist.  Especially since most of the fuckers waiting to go to court in county haven’t pled or been sentenced, shouldn’t they be treated with the respect afforded the innocent?  After all, they haven’t been proven guilty.  I dunno.  It just makes me think that we’re the only animal that behaves like this.  Not saying that we should all act like hyenas or anything.  Those things are pretty fucked up, too.  But the idea that there are fat-assed lower class putzes who can afford to pay the cable bill because somebody pays them to look down their noses at other lower class putzes who aren’t allowed to choose which channel they watch before bedtime is just sorta absurd and despicable.

                With that, I’m gonna shut up cos I’m not really sure what my point was necessarily but I don’t really care.  I probably won’t be making any points to anybody for the next few months, so this is my last stand.