Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Q, R, S and T are for Quixotically Revised Stressful Times (A to Z Blogging Challenge)

      Living slightly above the poverty line sucks balls. I'm not sure if THAT state secret has been declassified yet,  but it does. It seems like there's never enough to get by and when there is enough...everyone wants it.  Everyday seems to get harder and it's only getting worse. It's either that or I'm the only one getting screwed...which would be plausible. I'm prone to random screwings. Though, according to the homeless guy yelling on my street corner, everyone's getting screwed. He says by the "pinko Nazi government" and their clean air agenda "fuckin' wit his weed". I assume he means times are hard for everybody and I see his point. This seems to be the worst time...ever.

I don't know what's with this kid and his thousand yard stare...
he's supposed to be a poor kid, instead...he's a creepy kid.

       Though, from reading history books and listening to the whining, old, "free coffee" guys bitch every morning at McDonalds's, things were a lot worse before. From what I hear, hard times have been going on for a while. A lot of it was during that "Great Depression" shit, some "Cuban Missile Crisis" bullshit and "The Regan Era", whatever in the fuck that means.

It means; I was a president, I had an era...and I'm DEAD! EAT IT!

      I suppose it's our lot in life, being the dominate species. The animal that can kill and eat everything else has to give back somehow. I guess we do that by getting fucked. Not in the traditional "good time" sense. The other "oh, this is all kinds of fucked" sense. We're made to suffer. It's mostly by our own doing however. We bone ourselves constantly. The method of shaft? Money. Everything costs money. Money for eating, money for booze, for an unfortunate few...money for sex and for the rest of us money for really good sex. Yet, money costs something too. We get that from working, which usually involves labor of some kind.   Labor I'd like to keep...for "personal endeavors" (read: masturbating). Mostly, labor is hard work, sweating, time and sucks. We do it all for our modern suck ass life. 

      Not to say that modern life isn't remarkably convenient. I wouldn't argue that. I have yet to track an elderly cow across rough terrain for miles in order to eat a steak. Frankly, I'm rather loath to stalking anything without large breasts, super model status and an inclination for easy sex with portly men with poor vision. 

The saddest busty model stalker in the world.

      I still find that the modern world is a brutal, unfeeling bitch. Especially regarding the poorer folk within it. Maybe not depression era unfeeling but, not beyond forcing people into hooking for milk and bread. In that way, The Depression Era has it over us by a mile. Those poor bastards had to eat things like, shoes and non sliced bread. They constantly smelled like shit too. Well, I assume they did anyway. Plumbing was still a luxury back then and sewage still flowed into rivers. So, clean showering was a hit or miss endeavor. Gross.

      Okay, so, maybe we don't have it too bad. I mean, clean water is relatively free--ish. Not all of us smell like shit and I haven't eaten a real shoe in over a month. We don't even have to farm for our own food and the food we buy isn't germ infested death fruit. Instead, we work everyday to come home to non-death inducing food. Cleaner living aside, we still don't make enough to get by. We work, come home, rest a few hours...to go work again...forever. Why? For shitty pay to barely get by. 

It could be worse I suppose. My great, great, great grandparents had to start working when they were like...6. What they did at 6 I don't know. I like to imagine a Willy Wonka type scenario with them replacing the Oompa Loompas. They only made a dime a day working in that Wonkaesque factory too! What the fuck, right? Still, I get paid shit wages, but, at least I don't have to work on Wonka's chocolate slave farm. 

You'll work or you'll die.

Okay, okay, maybe today's suffering leads to tomorrows joy. We don't have it as bad as those dirty, hobo great grandparents of ours. The poor life is getting better. Perhaps, I'm being too dramatic and  (I blame it on a lack of vitamin C and peer pressure) 

      Sure, those times sucked, just like all those other bad times sucked...but, none of those times involved me (with the exception of the 80's...the "Duran Duran Era") and I know how much this time sucks. So, I tried to interject on behalf of all the poor, poverty stricken bastards living today...and I failed. Yet, while writing this bitchy, bitch session...something occurred to me, my kids are going to have it WAY better than my poor ass. What a bunch of assholes. Oh,  AND they'll think I am just as big a whiner as those coffee slurping wrinkle farms sitting at McDonald's at 5:30 every morning. So, instead, I'm writing this to my grand...no, no great grand kids. These times sucked! You don't know how good you have it! Pfff...kids. What the hell do they know? Anyone for coffee at McDonald's?


  1. By the time we've all died and our kids are in charge, they'll have invented a cure for death. Those bloody kids don't know they're born.

    1. One can only hope that after inventing a cure for death, they invent one for stupidity and ugliness. I'd hate for my ancestors to have to live forever in a world full of stupid ugly people. That's it's own special hell.

  2. I really enjoyed your rant, and I think that poverty is an issue that doesn't get nearly enough attention these days. Alas.

    As for the coffee, you're on :-)

    ~ Rhonda Parrish


Comment. Lest your fear consume you, cry baby.