Oct 08

Time To Refocus

This has been coming for a little while now. I was hoping the feeling would pass, but it really hasn’t so I guess it’s time to act on my instincts.

I’m powering down my alt accounts.

I really don’t have the time to fuck around with my main account so how am I supposed to look after four of them.

To clarify. this is my main account and I used @granolalight to do non-swearing, homesteading related posts. I barely showed up on that one, but I’m keeping 5 SP on it in case the urge hits me.

@reactionaries was my wife’s account that she has relinquished to me after having had enough of Steemit and @fromthebeginning was an account that a friend just left to me when things went south for him. I basically just set them to autovote friends and collect a bit of curation but it was less than a cent a week on average so what’s the actual point to that?

So I set the three of them to power down and I will move whatever is in them to this account and then figure out what I’ll do with it. I imagine I’ll just lease out my tiny amount of SP and sit on my laurels but who really knows? I can’t lie and say that I’m not disheartened and a bit depressed when it comes to Steemit.

Posting, I mean.

Winter is on its way and I am switching to winter shift next week. That means shorter days (if it’s not snowing) but more days per week. I know from last winter that I am not going to have the time, or will, to sit down and write out stories each week, especially when you spend hours doing it when you should be doing more productive work. If it produced some actual physical benefit to my life, I wouldn’t even balk at it, but I feel like it’s stressing me out more.

Add to the mix that I probably average about $5 a post and it doesn’t really seem worth it. It may not look like it but I spend several hours on a post and while I am not here for the money, obviously, there are really not many other rewards, when you actually think about it.

Sure, I know you are all vibrating right now and yelling “COMMUNITY!” at the screen but I didn’t say I wasn’t going to be involved, I am just going to take a break from posting here. I am still going to be judging what I can for Comedy Open Mic and helping behind the scenes there, and I hope I can still hang out with @shadowspub the odd time I’m able to catch a show on the Steemit Ramble discord.

When I’m not plowing or sanding.

I also like cuddling up with my wife and dreaming of our trip down to see @buttcoins this February.

(Why do they put that first “r” in there? I have never heard someone pronounce it Feb-ru-ary. Have you? Maybe I will start enunciating better and fucking everyone else up.)

Yeah, we are planning a trip to Lake Atitlan to scout out possible homesteading sites. That’s another reason I need to buckle down and do more productive things with my time. The longer I piss around, the longer it’s going to be to get out of the rat race and into a more meaningful existence.

If I can pick up extra hours this winter I am going to grab whatever I can. I’m also going to focus more on growing indoors. We got some new lights and want to learn as much as we can about efficiently growing things inside. We hope to one day branch into aquaponics as well, so it’s kind of important for our future to figure this stuff out.

I also need the vitamin D the grow lights give me. It’s like being surrounded by sunshine. I’m going to sprout a few kush seeds and see if I can grow a few decent plants over the winter. Between that and the herbs and veggies, I should get to spend quite a bit of time in there getting my sun on. I’ve pulled my worm bin in there as well, so I can just sift out castings and get a jump on the spring while listening to gardening podcasts and dreaming of a better life.

It’s not that we don’t have a great life; we do. It can always be better though. Simpler. More in tune with nature and less in tune with the nature of our society. I know that we are feeling it but the kids are not. This is the life they know. The life their friends live.

I only hope they figure it out before they are in their forties like we did.

I guess I figured it out a lot earlier but I had this albatross around my neck that was holding me back. I also made a lot of poor choices when it comes to money companions almost everything.

Anyhow.

I’m just going to be laying low for a bit. I may post some stuff through the whaleshares cross posting tool, so if it works, something might pop up here. It won’t be much though. Not that it ever was.

Sep 26

My Nineteenth Birthday

A friend wanted some Copperfield’s stories, so I shall regale you with the story of my nineteenth birthday, but first I’ll let the uninformed know about the phenomenon that was Copperfield’s.

Every small town has/had a version of Copperfield’s. You know the place, good food, ten-cent-wing night and lots of booze.  It transformed from a family restaurant into a dance club from Thursday to Saturday. There was hot, charismatic waitresses and bartenders; big, huggable bouncers (well, I’m sure someone hugged them); and a great DJ that put the cock in cocky (and anything else with two tits and a heartbeat). It was a very comfortable place to drink for an entire generation and my second home for a few years.

Let’s go back in time.

When I was sixteen or seventeen, I worked as a busboy and bar porter there and it facilitated my foray into manhood. I partied with the rest of the staff after work, and I felt like part of a greater thing. I thought that putting on that Copperfields shirt meant that I was part of the elite team. People didn’t mess with you if you had that shirt on, because everyone had each other’s back. Nobody messed with the waitresses, without getting their head bounced off the center post of the front doors as they were being “escorted” out, or getting surreptitiously punched by a busboy as the doorman was carrying them across the floor. You just felt safe there (or at least I did), but alas, everyone has to move on sometime.

Fast forward a couple years to my nineteenth birthday. I had a double shot of Jack Daniels and a couple of beer for lunch, followed by half a dozen rye and gingers for dessert. I then headed for Copperfield’s for supper and some libations. Because it was my birthday, and the fact that I knew the staff, I was treated to several happy birthday shooters. I was doing pretty good as I didn’t puke until Ferg gave me the “Formula One” (Thanks pal, but I still say it was Scope).

So there I was, happily shit faced, and sitting with a friend, when I decided I might need to see a man about a horse. As I swerved my way to the washroom, a small guy, about my size, said “How’s it going there, Goggles?”

I was taken aback.  Being one who was never into taking shit from anybody, I replied, “That’s really cool to make fun of drunk people that have obvious physical impairments. I guess when you don’t have the mental capacity to be a decent human being, these are the things that make you feel good about yourself.”

While he was trying to figure out the insult I had directed his way, I turned around and set my glasses on the table and remarked, “The goggles are off now asshole.”

That was when his rather large-necked, tough-looking friend stepped in and explained how I was going to have to fight him first if I wanted to get to his much smaller friend.

This seemed unfair to me but my mom didn’t raise me to complain about life not being fair so I agreed to beat up the two of them and then took a couple of steps back to get a better run at this situation. Right about then, one of my bouncer buddies came and picked me up off the ground, reminding me that I was five and a half feet tall, 145 pounds, and as much as I claimed invincibility, that I was in fact mortal.

All of those things may have been true but that didn’t stop me from telling Big Neck that he was lucky the bouncer had me, which seemed like the right thing to say at the time.

It turned out to be the exact opposite of the right thing to say at the time.  Big Neck ran up and started smashing me about the head and neck with his club-like fists. Luckily for me, my friend could walk fast and Big Neck seemed unable to walk and fight at the same time, so the blows weren’t as hard as I thought they would be.

I cheered joyously as the other doormen threw him out and came back to give me a stern talking to. They told me that he was waiting outside, and I had best go sit down and wait for my ride. I guess I must have followed instructions.

The next morning I woke up in my buddy’s pickup truck.  It seems I slept through the rest of my time at the bar, the after party, and the ride home.  I’m still indebted to my friends for preventing my early demise, and most of all to Joey, for making sure I made it home safe with my goggles, and for not letting any hot chicks rape me while I was too drunk to remember it.

Sep 19

You Know Who Doesn’t Get Enough Recognition? – Comedy Open Mic Round 31

And all of the people that are involved with it.

I know, I know. We don’t get to toot our own horns nearly enough so I am going to take this opportunity to reiterate.

The fact of the matter is that COM is a necessary (sometimes) evil on the Steem blockchain. It’s kind of like that complete asshole in high school that nobody wanted around but his dad grew weed and was usually too high to notice an ounce missing.

I’m looking at you, Doug.

So anyhow, like COM, Doug was just around and you talked to him when you were bored or wanted to get high and forget that Kelly pointed out your boner in front of the whole class. You just know she sits in front of the AC to get her nipples hard on purpose, but you’re the idiot that can’t control himself.

By grade eleven you have high talked to Doug enough to know that his dad is gay and is trying to hide it from himself with drugs and his mom had sex with a male stripper when they were in town last November.

Now you start to understand why Doug is so annoying and you think you should quit judging him because he has had such a fucked up childhood. You actually decide that you should just quit judging people altogether. Nobody likes to be judged.

Whoa there, Hoss. Tap the brakes a bit.

I forgot the whole reason I was here in the first place.

There are some people that loved to be judged, and we’re here to do that judging. From videos to songs to written posts to art. We are here to assign a point value to your hard, (or not so hard), work.

But enough about you

I’m writing this post to thank us for judging all your entries. It’s sometimes a pain in the ass, but we are happy to do it. You folks probably don’t realize this, but there is a lot of work that goes on behind the scenes to keep this show on the road. There are the judges, the curators, and the admin volunteers. Nobody gets a paycheque, but they still do this to help out a fantastic dis-organization.

Between plagiarism checking, making sure the rules are followed and reading all of the posts in their lists, the judges have their work cut out for them. The curators are reading posts outside of COM entries and trying to find other funny people to join this wonderful contest, and the admins are doing their damndest, between trying to live their lives, illnesses, and raising families, to keep the whole thing flowing.

Sometimes there are hiccups and things get behind, but when you are doing so much work manually, it is to be expected.

Especially when we are shorthanded.

Yeah, that’s right. Every week we need people to help out with judging, curating, etc… but there never seems to be enough interest. I understand that it’s easier to just enter and try to win a bit of Steemy goodness, but it really would help us out a lot if you could help us out a little. It’s going to be hard to keep this going with everyone getting burned out and beating the neighbourhood rummies up to release their frustrations.

What do I have to be frustrated about, you ask?

Well, the chapping on my ass won’t go away and my boss is making me work weekends until I retire. That’s one thing, plus we got all these fucking drunks hanging around the park. They stole my lawnmower last week and then tried selling it back to me.

Great, now I’m pissed off again about the local alkies. I just came here to thank the judges, and write an anecdote or parable, or whatever the hell that story about Doug was.

Oh, and to gently persuade you to vote COM as a witness.

Oh yeah, and to tell you to check out Chibera’s discord server.

If you do those things for me, there’s a pretty good chance that I can get @belemo to tickle your taint. No guarantees, but probably a 78% chance. You supply the airfare and a per diem of 75 SBD.

Photo sources are pixabay.com and screencaps of COM, Chibera, and a Google search of “reiterate”.

I nominate @you and @thehorseyourodeinon

Sep 14

Has GentleBot Got A Screw Loose? – Comedy Open Mic Round 30

Anyone who has been on Steemit for a while has probably had a visit from, or at least heard of, @gentlebot.

It’s a bot that goes around upvoting comments. I always thought that it only upvoted comments that contained a certain gentleness. That was what I was always told anyhow.

Then I saw this on a comment I had put on Amir’s excellent post.

Yeah, yeah, I know I didn’t really learn to keep my mouth shut. It’s just jokey jokes.

My point is that @gentlebot usually just upvotes comments that are all nice and shit. Does their filter just pick out the nice words like “funny” and “laugh” but disregard the sex and ass kicking? Maybe we’ll never know, but thanks for the $.19 and a reason to write a quick post for Comedy Open Mic before the deadline.

I nominate @gentlebot’s creator to compile a list of the funniest comments, if that’s even possible, and also @shadowspub because she never responds to my goading for a funny post.

 

Aug 27

Just Swear And Blaspheme Already, For The Love Of Fucking Christ

Crap, darn, frick, frig, jeepers creepers, goldangit, jeez

So, I know and like a lot of religious people. Doesn’t make me a bad person. One of the things I see a lot is that most of them swear like that.

As if it makes them a better person in the eyes of their lord.

Alright, now let’s say that the bible is correct, God does exist, and he is all powerful and all knowing, just like you all think he is. Do you think you’re fooling him by saying “gosh darn it”?

No God damn way. He knows exactly what you mean.

How about jeepers creepers or jeez?

Nope, Jesus knows that you mean him, and worse yet, so does his dad. His dad gets pissed off real easy too. Don’t think that having a child has chilled that angry, old man out. He may have toned it down a bit for the New Testament, but believe you me, he’s still got a mean streak, and it gets worse when he’s drinking.

Sinners!!!

Yes, God and Jesus both know you are taking their names in vain, and they are even angrier with you for trying to fool them.

Think of it like high school; a bully is talking to you and you are telling them how much you like them and how cool they are, but really you think they are an asshole.

You know what happens next? Oh yeah, you do.

You go to a party, drink half a bottle of rye, and start talking about how you’d kick the living piss out of that big bitch. You might even add in that you already did hang a licking on them a few years back, and they are still scared of you.

Oh yeah, you’re the big man/woman on campus now, with everyone crowding around asking for your autograph and shit, and that’s when it hits you. A massive fist, followed by several more, and as you start getting closer to the ground, the feet begin their frenzied Riverdance all over your head, torso and occasionally your tender bits.

This is exactly what is going to happen to you when God and his posse get a hold of you, except it will be the Devil laying the beating on your ass.

There is a silver lining

Luckily for me, I don’t believe in God, so I’m safe and free to live my life without fear of persecution from a higher power. I can blaspheme all day long if I want to, and I sometimes do.

Jesus H Christ, I hope I’m right about the God not existing thing or it’s gonna be a hot old afterlife for this hombre. Just in case I am incorrect in my assumption, I’d like to get all of the Christians to pray for me and my soul. Don’t get me wrong, I still want to end up in Hell, but I’d like to get a cushier job and maybe some perks, like A/C or maybe a sweet log cabin by a lake for my holidays.

As for the swearing part, you should just swear. Why would you want to “diet cuss”? The words mean the exact same thing.

Well, except for “frig”. I have yet to hear someone say “I took her home and frigged the crap out of her.”. It just sounds wrong.

I’m not saying that nobody says it, I just haven’t heard it, and I’ve met a lot of people that take women home.

Why is “shit” any different than “crap”?

It’s not, and never will be. They can both mean feces, trouble, or bad. Why is shit wrong to say around some people then? I don’t know either, but it is. Just ask my old Sunday School teacher.

Also, should we be checking our language when we are around the gentle people?

I’m guilty of it but with me, it’s a respect thing. If I know that someone doesn’t swear, I try not to swear around them.

I just don’t like making people feel uncomfortable. I would, however, like to raise everyone else’s comfort level up to mine, just so I can be myself around them. I have a foul mouth, and no matter how I try to word things, they always mean the same thing in the end. What’s the point of mincing words, when you can say it all with a really good cuss? Another thing I like to do is to emphasize the curse words when I use them. I think it makes me funnier and scarier.

I think we all can agree that I could stand to be both.

In conclusion, my brothers and sisters: Go forth on your journey of enlightenment, and attend any church on Sunday. While you are there, make sure to say in a moderately loud voice,“I’m not taking any more of your God damn bullshit, Jesus, so you can go to Hell.”, and feel a great weight lift off of your shoulders.

I’m just kidding. If you are in church, you should just whisper that shit. It’s quite rude to speak out of turn there. When you are done at church, head over to an AA meeting and enjoy some cookies and grape drink. Oh, and say hi to Abe for me. I miss that drunken, old prick.

P.S. @profanereviews is not responsible for any smitings (or is it smotings?), beatings or rapes by religious zealots, or any other harm that may befall you in the event that somebody can’t take a fucking joke.