The Election!!!!

Today I can proudly say that the oppression of the Obama administration is finally over. In 2 long months, the man who was elected as a bastion of change will be doing something else with his time.

No more lies, no more cons and no more bullshit from a man who has increasingly divided our country.

I'm also saddened that people have thought the world is better off by oppressing those who do not believe your views. Now, people who have a vagina but think they are a man can go into the male rest rooms. And just the opposite as well. As a male, this really angers me. Not because I care whether or not a fake female comes into the men's rest room, but because over time I've watched as theaters and just about every other establishment have phased out urinals in favor of toilets.

I'm also tired of protests which stretch across roads. These block traffic and stop people. I'm tired of people constantly putting the white male down because for some reason we deserve it. As a white male, I'm not better than a black male or anyone else. I'm the same. I'm your equal. But for the past 8 years, Obama has led us to believe that the white male is responsible for all of the problems in the USA.

Well November 8th serves as a fuck you to Obama. I'm incredibly tired, as are many, of the way everyone in this country has been treated. Every major news outlet his made fabricated stories about things that affect our lives. The difference between the New York Times and The Onion: at least we know we are in for a laugh with the Onion.

Trump may not get two terms. I'm okay with that. But I believe the attacks on people because of their beliefs needs to stop. The only way to do this is to give the establishment time to think about what they have done.

I'm not a Bernie fan by any means. But look at what the Clintons via the DNC did to him. They took out the most followed man on the democratic side. In a way I feel like the DNC vs the RNC became symbolic of USA vs Russia in the cold war. The DNC was trying to make all of these firsts. Sacrificing the values of our country for a title which is more important to liberals.

This is the fuck you I hope all liberals read. I hope you read this and realize that you have quite a bit of growing up to do. I hope that in 4 years when the next election happens, you realize that conservatives are people too. They should be treated with just as much respect as your liberal friends.

We are a human race, and you the liberal people forgot about that. Wake up.

Being Fired

At some point I'll have to write a book about this.

The title will be something along the lines of: "Being Fired".

I've been fired 1, 2 (laid off, but not the person for the job), 3, 4, and I think this coming Friday will be the 5th. Maybe even more. So yeah, I'm a seasoned pro at this. I know what to expect and how it's coming at this point. I know every trick up the boss's shoulders and the things employers are hiding to prepare themselves for the eventual loss. I suppose an employer could use this guide to offset their practices, so have at it.

Step 1: The employer identifies someone to fire.
This reason could many different things. But let's limit it to bad performance. The first thing the employer will do is to ensure they cover their own ass before letting someone go. Although you may not be critical to your job, the employer will make sure someone knows how to do their job + yours. In the unlikely event that you are actually being laid off and training someone to replace you for a different location (I've done this too), I won't be covering this.

So from the employee perspective: If you have access to the managers office or the person who would recommend this decision, watch them like a hawk. Someone will not like your performance and will be ready to cut ties with you. Performance based firings usually occur via party, meaning not the choice of one person but rather backed up by multiple people, and if they are good: stats.

Usually said manager will want to avoid conflict. The manager may ask you some questions as to how you are feeling, and how things are going for you. At this point, your job is all but gone. However, most employers will fire at the end or near the end of the day on a Friday. Everyone is leaving, and this allows for 2 cool off days. At least if you are going to shoot up the office, no one will be there on Saturday or Sunday. By Monday, most people will have moved on. In all of my firings, I was pretty cool with it. Just let them do their thing. I didn't clean up a damn thing on my desk, as that was their responsibility. I guess that's the true way to say: Fuck you.

Anyways, in each situation I was questioned by a number of people. In the most recent instance, I worked at a small firm where the CFO fired me. He asked me a series of questions early in the week. I was then greeted by the person 1 above me, making sure he understood the finer points of my job. This included things like re-labeling items which I knew to myself to be correct. However, he wouldn't be able to use my sheets if I kept them in my format.

Then I was approached by the controller. This person asked me to submit reviews on my job. Things I liked, things I would change. I'm not really sure what this was for, but in my opinion it was to catch me off guard. As the week progressed, this part of the process stuck out the most. If you know your job is under scrutiny, watch for this. Things out of the normal.

Step 2: The employer starts to reassign work to other people.

This only happened once, but it's a clear indication of what's to come. If this happens, break out your resume creator, linkedIn or other job hunting tools. Your job is gone. To throw them off, ask for a reference. Be sure it's not for a day job or they will be on to you. Ask for a weekend gig or something like that.

Step 3: The firing.

I think I've been fired over 5 times. Of those 5, only 1 occurred with just one person in the office. Usually firings occur with 2 or more. I was once fired with a concealed carry holder sitting diagonal from me. I knew he was armed, because he talked about it every day. But during the firing, I could see the handgun bulging from his side. This was actually an easy firing. I literally went back to my desk, got my phone and left. I had a whole bunch of stuff on my desk pertaining to work but didn't bother organizing it.
I've never been a hard person to fire. I just usually say, "Okay, and move on.

The Media Lies

I have not written a public note in over 2 years. Largely because I got really bored writing for publications and having my thoughts and words scrubbed to fit a narrative the news agency was trying to portray.

But with the recent issues that our country is facing, I want to pose a question to all of you reading this: Where did you hear about the problems you heard? Did a friend tell you? After that friend told you, did you just write a note without researching what they said?

I’m interested to hear your responses. All of them, in one way or another, revolve around the media. But the media is a vast term used much like Liberal, or Conservative are used by voter demographics.

For the most part, I find the media to be full of shit. If I apply the term from Paul Rudd’s character in Anchorman: “60% of the time, the media is full of shit every time”. It’s confusing. The media is too. It appears that no two sources can have the same facts. It’s almost as if each source has to one up the other. Right about then is when the big networks get involved and spew whatever is at the top of their tongues.

Over 13 years ago, I experience what it was like to understand what the media does. I was a soldier deployed to Iraq. My job was to fix vehicles, but I often felt part of the team by volunteering to go on every outside the wire mission I could. During these times, I worked with my unit and a host of others as well.

A particular mission always seems to reoccur in my mind. Somehow I ended up with the California National Guard on physiological operations. All that I did was blast music through a loud speaker attached to a Humvee which I was on top of. We would go up and down the streets of Baghdad. At one point we all stopped and dismounted our truck. A call came over the radio that a vehicle had been hit by an IED and the occupants were burning inside. A reporter followed us with his cameraman. I wasn’t a point man or anything you’d hear by the movies. I was with the commander and first sergeant. The commander had a bag of soccer balls which we were going to hand out to the kids.

When we identified the vehicle, two of the soldiers who were with us tried to retrieve the bodies. But the flames were too hot. A decision was made to wait until we could retrieve the bodies and continue to hand out soccer balls. The reporter followed us. I grabbed two or three soccer balls and handed them to smiling children. The entire time the reporter and cameraman filmed nothing. But that changed.

The parents saw our reporter and immediately called their children inside. After a brief moment the children came back outside and began throwing rocks at our burning Humvee. Suddenly the reporter had a reason to record and the tape was live. The next day, CNN blasted these children all over television with the headline “American’s not wanted”. The vast majority of people back home believed it too.

But take my experience, and think about that for a moment. Think about how the media is doing the same thing. How much easier would it be for a cameraman to show up to a rally and not record anything. Not record a peaceful situation. But the second it goes bad, the camera’s are once again rolling. Or how about the social media feeds of people who are doing good things. Who have positive interaction with law enforcement. Those are almost never seen. Simply for the reason that our media wants to fit a narrative.

So ask yourself: is it the mainstream media that is giving you your news, or something else? Because if it’s a major news network, chances are: you’re being lied to. #dallas

Being A Dad

Fatherhood has taught me a couple of things:

1. I am going to be tested, at every moment, at every point in the day.
2. I am going to lose my mind, or my hair due to these children.
3. I love these children.


I never knew how great being a dad was/is. The moment my little girl came into this world, I knew she was something special. I remember being the first to hold her. Not my wife, or any of the other common traditions with a child. It was me. My belief is that my wife needed to focus on the after birth portion of things so they gave my daughter to me. Or I was just in their way so they handed the baby to me. Either way, I held her first.

It's the same thing with my son. Knowing when they were born and just being there.

So the question for my readers is probably pretty simple: what the hell does this fathers day blog have to do with a rant? Read on.....


To give you some insight as to why I cherish fathers day so much, I have to take you back many years. Back to when I was 5, and some earlier.

For some reason, I remember early dates in my childhood. I remember being at a pool with my father and for some reason, I slipped out of his hand and into the pool below. Probably couldn't have been more than 3 feet deep. I didn't understand what was going on, but I didn't breath. I felt my fathers hands pick me up from the pool and back onto his shoulder.

That's the only "good" memory I have of my dad.

My dad is an alcoholic. His need for beer, ruined my childhood. Parts of those first 5 years still haunt me today. There are even parts that I hope to get to in this blog that still hurt.

I remember one day when I was young (5 or earlier). And just a side note: the reason why I know about this being the first 5 years is because my mom left my dad at the age of 5.
Anyways, back to the first sentence. I once came out of my room in our trailer and saw my mom and dad folding laundry together. As I got closer I realized they were watching a nightly porno show where the women would dance together and do choreographed stripping. My mom identified me as watching the show and told me to go to bed.


My dad got pissed. I remember the "Get in your fucking room" to this day. I asked for a hug. My dad got up, took his belt off and chased me to my room. For some reason I had a bunk bed, but my sister didn't sleep in there. I climbed on top, attempting to get as far away from him as I could. Unfortunately his belt and it's slap, met me and my face. I was mercilessly beaten for that incident. Trying to cry to get him to stop. It was scary. His final words to me where: "go to fuckin' bed. I had better not see you until the morning". He slammed my door and walked away. I cried, scared and alone that night.

But it only got worse.

My mother took a beating too. I watched it. I remember one night my dad called home and asked what was for dinner. I don't remember how I know that it was a call about dinner, I just remember that my mom said dad is coming home. She was making spaghetti. I think we were out of noodles or sauce or something like that. But my mom couldn't make spaghetti. So instead she made BLT's. He got home, saw that spaghetti wasn't made and threw the plate at the wall. Slapped my mom in her face and then left for the bar. I remember my mom crying. It hurt.

But the pain didn't stop......

In fact...it got worse. One night, my dad was complaining about not having enough money for beer. I think my mom's job at the time was still a certified nursing assistant. I don't quite remember. What I do remember was that the day in question was pay day for my mom. Back in the bedroom, my mom and dad got into a fight. I think my mom got slapped. I remember the words "Bitch" and "Cunt" being used, but I don't remember the whole fight. I hid next to the table hoping my dad wouldn't come out from his room and find me in my room and beat me.

Sure enough, he came out and looked for me. I was hiding. He called me but I didn't answer. Finally, he came out to the kitchen where I was hiding and looked around. Not seeing anyone, he reached into my mom's purse and took all the cash she had. Slowly sifting through the purse, the time seemed to take forever. He took out many items, but was only looking for cash. After depleting my mom's purse and leaving everything else on top of the fridge, he left for the bar.

That night, I fell asleep. Thankfully, that was the last night I would ever have to endure from this man.

He came home from the bar and he was looking to start a fight with my mom. He threw his wedding ring off and said "fuck you bitch".

My mom must have known what was coming. She grabbed my sister and her clothing and told me to get as many clothes as I could. I didn't know what was going on and she didn't have time to explain.

We had a wood furnace that kept our trailer warm. He was putting fire wood in it. I remember him saying "don't you turn out to be a little bitch like your mother". It was almost as if he didn't want anything to do with me. I didn't understand and began to cry. I told him I loved him and I didn't want to go. I didn't understand what was going on.

I was trying to figure this out, but my mother grabbed me and ran as far as she could down the drive way. Our driveway was probably 100 or 200 yards long. The cars were at the end. She had my sister in one arm and my hand in another. We sprinted. I told her I didn't want to go. Angrily, she told me it was time to leave. We needed to go. She never swore at me before this night, well that I knew of at least. She said "shut up and get in the fucking car".

In the distance I saw my dad. He was heavily intoxicated. He had taken a whole bunch of news papers and lit them on fire. He threw them on the porch and celebrated by dancing. I was so scared. This image is burned into my mind forever.

But my life has changed since that day. I now have 2 children of my own. I love them very much and I could never see myself abandoning them. I miss them when they are at school.

Watching my daughter grow up has been heart breaking. She went from being so tiny, to such a little fire cracker, to now having her own friends. She has her own life. I miss her toddler years. They were long and didn't afford me much sleep. But looking back on those days, I miss them.

My son is still pretty young. I'm trying to wrap myself around having a son. It's something truly special.

The point of this blog is: treat your children right and learn to love what they give you. Whether that is a colorful paper they drew with crayons, or a piece of your garden that you just planted. They love you, and will only figure out hate from you.

Nearly a Year!

It's been nearly a year since I wrote anything down. That's a stark contrast to how I opened 2015. I wrote for the first six months and then gave up.

Oh well, sometimes mental thoughts and written explanations are best for describing a mood.

The question is, what is my mood. Can I define it? Can I see it? Can it see me?

These are all things that every day people come across in their lives.

I've been to from the east coast, to the middle east. I've seen open German farms, and surface to air missiles stashed in Iraqi Orchards. What do the owners of these properties have in common? It's emotion. The German farm owner is likely happy. Enjoying the good life. While the Iraqi orchard owner is likely pissed because a local force put heavy weaponry in his place of food creation.

But how are these people different than our presidential race? For that matter, how does mood change based on race?

I can tell you I've seen quite a bit of information on the web lately regarding race. It feels like our country is imploding. When I turn on the news, I see how divided our country is. It's a horrible feeling to see a young man, born in this country, having to picket fences and attack authority to make a point that his way of life isn't the same.

Did I earn this life? What did I learn?

I learned from the school of bad shit. The school that teaches you what happens to those who grow up with little to no money. I learned what it's like to only cause trouble because your single mother parent cannot afford to take you to swimming lessons, or baseball practice.

I had nothing. I lost my thought. REMIX!!!!!!

Now while I'm poppin off, and singing songs, I feel the beat of my favorite fog. It's in that moment, that I begin to believe that I might have a chance at HI--STORY.

Yeah I wrote a little. Maybe too much. But how do you kickstart a conversation in a new direction.


I don't know.