Dorking Around

Did you know that the word dork is a vulgar way of saying penis? I looked this up in the real dictionary, not the urban one. I do wander through UrbanDictionary.com all the time when Wikipedia can no longer provide the hours of wasted time I need to explain why I am just sitting in front of a computer screen. I did not know what dork meant for thirty-six years. I shit you not! At work some kid called another kid a douche-bag, in front of the priest. You know, the guy that is there teaching these kids morals at the religious education program and we all know that little third grade kids don't know what a douche is, let alone that they have a bag attached to them. He just knew it was an insult, because it is always used on TV. I, of course, found the use of the insult hilarious, because I use it in my everyday vernacular. Unlike the word Vernacular, because it is a long word that is utterly useless in common conversation I have with people, also I only know it is spelled correct because the little red squiggly line that has become the new best friend of all writers since before the day that Skynet rose up to conquered us all, is no longer there and good ole' Spellcheck did its job. Did I use this word correctly? Probably not, but that big ass dictionary is all the fucking way across the damn library and really, who the hell wants to walk that extra one hundred feet just to riffle through a paper book to find meanings of words. I really should get my library card so I can just look this shit up on the internet like everyone else.

God damn it, we've gotten lazy. Anyway, about using the word dork. I literally, and yes this is correct usage, learned it was used for a penis because the priest, after our joking about kids calling each other feminine hygiene products, told me, three days after my thirty-sixth birthday. All those years using a word to define people, is just an uncommon usage of calling someone a dick. It's been turned into something cheap, hell I've been calling people dork for decades now. Who knew it was like using darn, and dang and son of a mother loving basketball player? They're boring insults. Calling someone a dork has just become an insult that has no pizzazz anymore. It's power as a swear is gone the way of the dodo. Dork. It's been castrated. Calling someone a dork should be used as an insult against the stupid and ignorant, like, strumpet. Who the hell calls anyone that anymore? It was a vocabulary word in my high school English class too, so were the words: undulate, banal and sadism, which gets me thinking that the teacher was either into some kinky shit or she just wanted us to insult people in the most uppity way possible. I was enough of a smart ass in her class that I probably used those words in the same sentence, “That sadistic strumpet probably undulates across the bed in the most banal way possible.” This is the kind of shit we should be teaching kids to use in school, that's one hell of an insult right there. And how many people know what all those words mean? Do you know the difference between hanged and hung? The teacher told us how to remember it, “You can hang a man, but only he can be hung.” This was my teacher in high school! How fucking awesome was she?!

One of the books we had to read in her class was Catcher in the Rye, and to this day, I do not know why that shit pile is a classic that was restored from the Banned Book List. It was one of the worst books I have ever read, and just from the amount of times that fucker used the word damn, caused me to stop swearing for a week. It made me feel dirty to swear, and that feeling as obviously waned a bit with age. I hated the book so much that when we were forced to write a timed essay on some theme the novel supposedly had, I skipped it and just wrote, by hand, a four page hate diatribe on how that book warped me for life and how it shouldn't be banned at all because that was the only reason anyone wanted to read the fucking thing. How did anyone take some nut job seriously when he said it made him want to go murder John Lennon? I could understand blaming it on Yoko ruining the Beatles, but not because he read a stupid book. She gave me a B on that essay, because I didn't actually do the assignment, but she just liked the hate filled rant. 

Okay so I decided to get up and go look up vernacular, and yeah I guess it's used right. Also, isn't it kind of sad that all the kids stared at me wondering why I was using a big book to look up stuff, and the older people were just shocked that someone younger than them still knows how? It's a good thing they don't use Dewey's Decimal System here anymore, one of those old folks would probably drop dead from the shock. And then someone would call someone else a dork. And they wouldn't even know what kind of insult they used. Such sad times we live in. Also I looked up douche-bag, just for shits and giggles, and hell, I didn't know the bag part of the insult referred to the bag part attached to the nozzle. I thought it was about the bag they came in. Damn, learn something new every day. And people say dictionaries are worthless nowadays.

Hehe, Strumpet. Such a good word.

Kicking Shit

I live in a town that was once a thriving ranching community, with real cowboys that worked with animals out on a ranch or a range. But that was decades ago. There are still a couple of ranches that still exist but most of the land is now just open area owned by the City of Los Angeles. Our streets are all offset to stop stampeding cattle, they make for annoying left turns, but they're all quirky to the outside eye, and I have never seen a stampeding herd of cows or sheep rushing down the street. I'd like to because that would be fucking funny. Just seeing thousands of animals running wild down one of the main streets to just come to a stop and wander aimlessly under people on horseback gather them up and get them moving again, and see the reaction to all the skiing tourists have to just sit there waiting getting more and more pissed off and I will be there selling them bottles of water and packages of Twinkies or some other snacks at outrageous prices just to finally make a buck or two off those losers that nearly hit me in a crosswalk every Friday that I try to get to the other side. The ranches we have now, have some cows and maybe a sheep or two, and that one odd alpaca that just hangs out and stares at me whenever I walk by, the whole fucking time. Dude, Alpaca, what the hell you looking at? It's like some frat boy that doesn't know if he wants to start a fight or if he should go get another beer. Those are some weird animals, but cows are funnier. Cows are the dumbest fucking animals on earth (next to turkeys apparently) and when they get scared it takes a long time for that fear to process. And if one cow gets scared the rest of the herd will follow in a blind panic. I picture their conversations like this;

Cow #1: Dude, Phil, you know why we're running?

Phil: Hank just reared back and bolted. Felt I had to as well.

Cow #1: Dude, Hank, what the fuck man? Was it a wolf?

Hank: No man, the farmer said boo last Tuesday. I thought I was going to shit myself, so I ran.

Cow #1: Good call man. Oh shit! The street turns slightly to the left, gotta stop!

Phil: So what now?

Cow #1: Beats me, wander until the farmer comes to get us?

Hank and Phil: Sounds good.

Cow #1: Oh hey, there's some grass over here.

All other cows: Sweetness.

Like I said, cows are fucking stupid. Wannabe cowboys are pretty close to the same thing. The cowboys we have around here are just a bunch of ass-hats. They all think they need to be like the fucking Marlboro Man. They either smoke like a fucking chimney or chew Skull tobacco, wear skinny jeans, tucked into their brand new boots, and wear a godawful larger than necessary belt buckle. And they have a damn fucking hat that they never take off.

A Wannabe Cowboy.
Jeff the Diseased Lung is more lovable though.

You go inside a place, you remove your fucking hat. There are things called manners, you goddamn stupid fucking shitkickers. This guy at lunch today walked by the restaurant I was eating at, he had his Ninja Turtle green tee shirt tucked in behind the two foot chrome belt buckle. It was hard to miss, and I so badly wanted to just go beat him up for trying to be a nerd and a cowboy at the same fucking time. You can't be both dumb ass, only one despises the fucking sun and the other deals with animals that aren't just cats! This guy didn't just have that shirt tucked in, like all the way around, just where the belt buckle was, with the rest hanging lose around his waist. Normally I would call this fucker a wannabe cowboy, but the pop culture shirt he was sporting takes that away. He was just all belt buckle. Bright shiny heavily polished belt buckle.

The wannabe cowboy is easy to spot, much like the wannabe gang-banger in the city, we of course have them as well and like a guy once told me, “You can't be tough and still get money from your momma for lunch,” you know they guys that wear their pants down below their ass with pretty much just their balls holding them up and they have to fondle themselves hiking them back up slightly so they don't flash everyone when their jeans hit the ground and drive that car that is so low to the ground that a pebble on the street will cause heavy catastrophic body damage. They dress the part but will shit themselves cowering on the ground in the fetal position once the real deal challenges that image. These cowboys that show up are nothing more than the redneck version of that. These cowboys are the pricks that drive that brand new fully raised truck so it takes a two story ladder to get into and then deck the whole fucking thing in chrome with a brush bar and mud tires knowing full well that it has never and will never see a speck of dirt touch that glorious paint job. These guys are all a bunch of fucking losers. There are harsher words to use toward them, words my grandmother would say “angels cry, when you use those words,” so I'm going to just pass on their use here. Wouldn't want any teary eyed angels wandering around.

New Year, same shit as before.

Welcome to the first post of 2016! I have had this blog for just over four months, which means I'm only two more months away from qualifying for ad-sense from Google. What dos that mean for you? Probably jack shit. What does it mean for me? Probably the same, I have no idea how it works or really even what it does, it's just a feature I think I should have. I should probably read up on it but stuff gets in the way of that, and taking the time to make an effort to read something in legalese inside a thirty-five thousand page EULA, is not something I really want to do. I will probably treat it like iTunes and just click accept.

Well with the new year, it means I'm one more year older. Goodbye to being closer to thirty than forty years old. It's just a downhill slide to what I have been told is middle age, it's nice to think someone out there thinks I will make it past seventy, and if you have read my post about my scars, you would should understand why that probably isn't too likely. Is the final four years of the thirties really just the bunny slope of being over the hill? This was the sixth year of spending my birthday at Disneyland. I have posted before about my vacation being in the same place with the joy of finding the guy known as FUCKING GREG! We went to dinner at the same place as before, kind of hoping to see the guy again because I really want to turn that asshole into a comic strip of some kind and just needed some more raw material to work with. I even started calling him FG, the OG of the OC, because I have no idea what the hell that even means but I got a laugh from the younger people I told the story to. Sadly, that fat asshole didn't show, he was probably out getting kicked out of another GameSpot for having that stupid knife on his belt again. Or he got kicked out of that Hometown Buffet after we left the place last time.

Disneyland was pretty much the same, except for the soon to be closed railroad (my dad's favorite ride) and the petting zoo that I have been to once because I know what farm animals smell like up close already.

You can move along.

Or feed them pellets of food that for all they know could be their own version of Soylent Green. That's city folk shit. All the new Star Wars stuff was cool to see, I argued with some guy about how the newest movie showed promise in Droid Liberation. He told me I was stupid. I said he was a moron. And as we were just about to get into a slap fight when I was distracted by a BB-8 drink cup, and moved on like an ADHD kid that just saw something shiny. That damn drink took me two days to find, cost more than it should but is oh so worth telling my sister “Hey, you know why I can't be a Storm trooper? I found the droid I was looking for.” I used that a lot on our final day, that sure bugged the shit out of my sister. Still fucking funny.

It rained nearly the whole time we were there, and finally the crowds were thinned out. Sure most people hate being anywhere in the rain and “cold” but there is enough shit to do in the parks that are dry that I was still entertained. I figure, if they aren't telling me to get the fuck out, it's all good. I've grown out of the need to go on all the rides anymore, sure there are those few that I must go on every trip and others that I have been on once and that was good enough for me. I have noticed I enjoy going to the shows more now though. I never liked stage plays, still don't, but I enjoyed going to see the Aladdin musical in California Adventure. The first time I decided to go see that, I was at Disneyland alone and it was hotter than hell, the very thought of just finding an air conditioned place to sit for an hour was good enough for me to go see the show. And I got pretty decent seats that I could see a lot of the action but I had my older shitty glasses and everything was blurry, so I thought,

You'd think I wouldn't have to Google a picture for this,
 but here we are..

“Hell, I'll bust out those ninja skills I learned from Comic-Con, I'll see how close to the stage I can get.” It was still hotter than hell when that first show ended so I got back in line and this time I walked into the lower seating, which I thought at the time was for reserved seating only, and I was just being all bad ass in sneaking into a spot I wasn't supposed to be. And no one said anything, so I tried again and got to the front row in the middle. Holy shit, I swear I could see nose hair of some of those actors. And there's one scene that they billow out clouds of fog and they are fucking cold. Also took at least five minutes for that shit to clear out to see the rest of the play. The front row sucked. After all that I was then on a mission to find the best seat possible and spent three days and twelve showings to determine that the best spot was the front row of the second deck of the lowest seating area. You can see everything that happens, a few times the actors come out into the aisles and the only way to see what the hell is going on is to twist in the seat to see everything. But that one spot was perfect, and I could only get to it a few times in the few other showings I went to (I think I saw over a hundred showings in a couple of years, I said I go to Disneyland a lot). As of this last trip, that was the last show I got to see, Disney is ending their fourteen year run. It was a good show, and I will end up going to see the one that replaces it, whenever that may be since the cast members that worked there have no idea when Frozen takes over.

Damn it, I miss it already. I'm jonesing hard. I think that's correct, not all up on the slang. Only six more weeks until I go again. That's only forty more days. Or one thousand eighty hours. Sixty-four thousand eight hundred minutes. Or three million eight hundred eighty-eight thousand seconds. Three million, eight hundred eighty-seven thousand, nine hundred ninety-nine seconds. Three million, eight hundred eighty-seven thousand, nine hundred ninety-eight seconds. Three million, eight hundred eighty-seven thousand, nine hundred ninety-seven seconds...