Slow and painful
is how the hours go by.
Overworked
is an understatement
to us,
to them
we need to work more,
harder,
without complaint.
Underpaid
is how we are rewarded.
Underappreciated
is how we should never
feel,
yet
the cheese thats molds in the trash
is worth
more
than us.
Depression
is washed down
the sink
along with our thoughts
and imagination.
The drain
is worth
more
than us.
If these
normal, human, tormenting thoughts
do set in,
then management
takes away our razors
for fear that we might
cut off chunks
of our own wrists
and bag em
and tag em
and sell em
to customers.
We wouldn't know the difference
and customers
love the taste of fresh flesh.
Our life's blood has been draining
away since
we gave them
our social sercurity numbers.
Why do we do this
to ourselves?
Why do others do this
to us
without remorse
or pity?
Do they not
have a fucking soul?
Do they not
have a fucking heart?
Must we work
for the unforgiving
forever?
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Monday, September 13, 2010
The Ugly Sky Above Oakland
The streets are disgusting,
The bathrooms are disgusting,
The people are even worse.
The bay is putrid and filled with shit,
The air is putrid and filled with shit,
The people are even worse.
They talk,
They walk,
They shit,
They fuck,
They die.
They are lost,
Living in Oakland,
Why?
Under the ugly sky
With no stars,
No future,
No morals,
No lives,
Why?
Why walk these vile streets filled with trash,
With vomit,
With piss?
Why?
And why am I here?
I have vomit stains on my shirt,
Dandruff in my hair,
Foul-smelling armpits,
Dirty asshole,
A hangover,
And coke boogers,
Why, I fit right in,
And am glad that I am smiling,
Looking up at the ugly sky above Oakland.
The bathrooms are disgusting,
The people are even worse.
The bay is putrid and filled with shit,
The air is putrid and filled with shit,
The people are even worse.
They talk,
They walk,
They shit,
They fuck,
They die.
They are lost,
Living in Oakland,
Why?
Under the ugly sky
With no stars,
No future,
No morals,
No lives,
Why?
Why walk these vile streets filled with trash,
With vomit,
With piss?
Why?
And why am I here?
I have vomit stains on my shirt,
Dandruff in my hair,
Foul-smelling armpits,
Dirty asshole,
A hangover,
And coke boogers,
Why, I fit right in,
And am glad that I am smiling,
Looking up at the ugly sky above Oakland.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Article of John Hackleman Jr "The Man in the Cage"
There are millions of big headed, muscle bound choads that watch UFC fights thinking that they can easily go in the cage with any MMA fighter and shatter his face beyond recognition. Fat chance. They couldn’t even punch their tongues through a fart hole. These out of shape beer inhalers have no idea what it takes to make it through one day of training. I recently interviewed local fighter John Hackleman Jr to find out just how much hard work, discipline, and sacrifice it takes to achieve this domination in the cage.
This 28 year old middleweight massacre stands at 6’3” and weighs in at 185 lbs. Most challengers stand a better chance of survival playing roulette rather than entering in the cage with Johnny. He has been training in kickboxing since he was wearing diapers and for the past decade he’s been duking it out with the best amateur boxers in California. All day and all night and all throughout his training he thinks about disfiguring his opponent. Even when he is at his second job as a bartender at McCarthy’s, he’s training, plotting, thinking about how expensive his next opponent’s hospital bill will be or if they’ll have to call in the coroner to clean up the mess.
His relentless training also requires a strict diet. He eats small portions of what some might consider cardboard and despite being surrounded by Jameson, he doesn’t give into temptation. There is no booze for this bruiser. His dedication and drive to win are his only motivations. There’s plenty of time for debauchery later in life. He would rather get a high from making his opponents pay. They better watch out because as he puts it, “no one is safe.” If an opponent does enter his “home,” the cage, they have earned his respect, but they will not stop him from going after what he loves most-the KNOCKOUT. He says, “there’s nothing like the feeling of winning a fight by knocking someone out…I want that feeling every time I fight.”
Opponents may try and find a way to beat him, perhaps by inciting a fear. This unfortunately will never work. His only fear is not giving it his all. Besides that, there’s no chance of winning. Ask his former opponents he’s fought through the California Fight Syndicate. There may be a chance now they could be one of the drunks that yell at the tv or from the stands. My advice to them is to keep trying to punch their tongues through a fart hole and to stay the hell away from John Hackleman Jr.
This 28 year old middleweight massacre stands at 6’3” and weighs in at 185 lbs. Most challengers stand a better chance of survival playing roulette rather than entering in the cage with Johnny. He has been training in kickboxing since he was wearing diapers and for the past decade he’s been duking it out with the best amateur boxers in California. All day and all night and all throughout his training he thinks about disfiguring his opponent. Even when he is at his second job as a bartender at McCarthy’s, he’s training, plotting, thinking about how expensive his next opponent’s hospital bill will be or if they’ll have to call in the coroner to clean up the mess.
His relentless training also requires a strict diet. He eats small portions of what some might consider cardboard and despite being surrounded by Jameson, he doesn’t give into temptation. There is no booze for this bruiser. His dedication and drive to win are his only motivations. There’s plenty of time for debauchery later in life. He would rather get a high from making his opponents pay. They better watch out because as he puts it, “no one is safe.” If an opponent does enter his “home,” the cage, they have earned his respect, but they will not stop him from going after what he loves most-the KNOCKOUT. He says, “there’s nothing like the feeling of winning a fight by knocking someone out…I want that feeling every time I fight.”
Opponents may try and find a way to beat him, perhaps by inciting a fear. This unfortunately will never work. His only fear is not giving it his all. Besides that, there’s no chance of winning. Ask his former opponents he’s fought through the California Fight Syndicate. There may be a chance now they could be one of the drunks that yell at the tv or from the stands. My advice to them is to keep trying to punch their tongues through a fart hole and to stay the hell away from John Hackleman Jr.
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