I was talking to a good friend friend today and his birthday is this month and it got me thinking 30 is right around the corner for me I thought it would be hillarious if I was to go into the proctologist and ask him if he could remove my man beef stick from my pants and assist me in a masterbation session while he inserts his fingers in my poop shoot
Then I thought if I was to take it a step further when he tells you to drop your pants I whistle and in runs a transvestite prostitute that drops to his knees and gives me hand and oral pleasures really fast and then proceed to moan and groan like a stuck pig throwing your head back like a bucking bronco then when the doc freaks I turn around look at him like a idiot and say what the fuck you waiting for put your fingers in my ass my insurance is paying good money for this
Then I thought if I was to take it a step further it would be even funnier to walk in the docs office with a stick of blue bonnet butter cut in fourths and set it on the counter and you do the small talk to break the uncomfortable awkwardness then he tells you to drop your pants and bend over once your poop stained tiny pants are around your ankles I excuse myself and hop over to the counter and grab a ¼ of blue bonnet and start mushing it in your hand and before he puts fingers in my goodies I start beating my wang really hard and fast then he stops and says what the hell are doing I stand up straight look him in the eye and say nothing”ok lets try this again” and as I turn around I immediately get right back into beating it even harder and faster this time then the doc yells at the top of his lungs what hell you doing man I stop stand up straight turn around wipe the sweat off my brow look him straight in the eye and say nothing!!! are we gonna do this or what? Then shrug my shoulders in a pissed off manner and I turn around to bend back over I say excuse me hop back over to the counter grab myself another ¼ stick of blue bonnet hopping back over to the table with a hard stiff one bouncing around the doc cant believe whats happening as you bend over you tell him will you finger me now while looking over my left shoulder give him a wink
The devil has finally paid his due. William Zantzinger survived 35 years after his notorious killing of Hattie Carroll at a charity ball in Baltimore on Feb. 8, 1963. A politically well connected white man had no trouble manipulating the justice system at that time. Zantzinger was convicted of a lesser charge and given a six month sentence. Hattie Carroll a 51 year old mother of 11 was black and expendable as far as white society was concerned.
Zantzinger beat her with a cane for not filling his drink order fast enough, telling her. “I don’t have to take that kind of stuff off a nigger.” Hours later Carroll, who had a history of high blood pressure, collapsed and died. The injustice was memorialized in the “The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll” by Bob Dylan. The song became an anthem recounting in vivid detail the real state of affairs in the “home of the free”.
William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll,
With a cane that he twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel society gath’rin’,
And the cops were called in and his weapon took from him
As they rode him in custody down to the station,
And booked William Zanzinger for first-degree murder.
But you who philosophize, disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from your face, now ain’t the time for
your tears.
William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years,
Owns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres
With rich wealthy parents who provide and protect him,
And high office relations in the politics of Maryland,
Reacted to his deed with a shrug of his shoulders,
And swear words and sneering, and his tongue it was
snarling,
In a matter of minutes on bail was out walking.
But you who philosophize, disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from your face, now ain’t the time for
your tears.
Hattie Carroll was a maid of the kitchen.
She was fifty-one years old and gave birth to ten children
Who carried the dishes and took out the garbage,
And never sat once at the head of the table
And didn’t even talk to the people at the table,
Who just cleaned up all the food from the table,
And emptied the ashtrays on a whole other level,
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed through the air and came down through the room,
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle.
And she never done nothing to William Zanzinger.
But you who philosophize, disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from your face, now ain’t the time for
your tears.
In the courtroom of honor, the judge pounded his gavel,
To show that all’s equal and that the courts are on the
level
And that the strings in the books ain’t pulled and
persuaded,
And that even the nobles get properly handled
Once that the cops have chased after and caught ‘em,
And that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,
Stared at the person who killed for no reason,
Who just happened to be feelin’ that way without warnin’.
And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished,
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance,
William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize, disgrace and criticize all
fears,
Bury the rag deep in your face, for now’s the time for your
tears.
Hahaha this is a riot, @ first I hated Shooter Jennings, My brother Paul played me a few of his tunes and asked me if I wanted o go to the Merced fair to see him… I automatically thought bud light drinkin, nascar watchin, Camel non filter smokin, Kid rock listenin, trailor park livin, confederate flag sportin, toothless wife havin, no shoes no shirt dirty face empty beer can holdin kids in the front yard, and you know what? I was absolutely right… years later my brother gilbert makes a cd with a good six or seven shooter tunes soaked em in now I’m a huge fan of his music and got his albums…. I hate when that happensI shoulda kicked paully in the hairy star fish for not dragging to the show… Let me know if you’ve missed a concert…
History is made ladies and gentleman… Here is a band called Buffalo Guns that united in Madera,Ca Kalub for the band plays Key boards, rythem guitar and back up vocals a very talented young man that has played in many other bands and has a solo project called Albatross the musical.. Ariel is the 2nd guitarist for the band, joey is the bass player Kieth is the lead singer and steven is the drummer…The music scene is Madera is full of bands that are Emo, punk, hard core grind core kind of bands, although Buffalo guns has a hint of it in there style they have more of a grooven rock dance feel to their music… Having grown up with these cats I am proud to say that on the seventh of Janruary they kicked off their tour in Fresno, Ca The only band to be formed make original music and go on tour with it to come out of Madera…. Enjoy this outro break down…
I was in Los Gatos, Ca. when i was reading on the road for the second time and I was taking care of this old grouch for 12 hours a day… He was diagnosed with lou garrigs disease and lost control over his tongue and throat So we he made it very clear to me that he was independent and only needed a little help with cooking meals OOOh we communicated with a pad and pencil just thought you should know that little detail…So he had two sons that didn’t love him and were waiting for him to die so they could sell the house get split any money they could get.. his wife died a year before I met him so slowly but surely he warmed up to me and would tell me great stories of all the cat houses that he would go to all over the world when he was in the air force in ww2.. He even told me about the way he met his first love and I would tell him stories about my brothers and friends that we’ve experienced and he was in awh of me…I must say he is one of the most beautiful men I have ever met.. So i was in the back yard reading and he came outside and handed me a pad of paper that read”what kind of music is this i like record whats the name of this song?’It was carry the zero by built to spill…. The day after that it was a fridaytoward the end of my shift I asked him if he need anything he said no..this was a fridaynight.. Monday morning I was transferred to another case the person that took over the grouch hated him and the grouch hated the new guy.. the new guy left two hours early before his shift ended and the grouch went to the garage to put some laundry in the in the wash fell face first and and stayed there for three days another care taker found the grouch dead on his face… His name was Mr Wizga and he deserved a more honorable death… So when I hear this song it makes me feel gloomy…I’m not knocking your want
to carry that home
took it with you
when you moved and got it broke
found the pieces
we counted them all alone
didn’t add up
forgot to carry a zero
I can’t be your
apologist very long
I’m surprised that
you’d want to carry that on
count your blemishes
you can’t
they’re all gone
I can’t see your response
putting them back on
like they’re waiting for your guard to fall
so they can see it all and you’re so
occupied with what other persons are
occupied with
and vice versa
and you’ve become
what you thought was dumb
a fraction of the sum
yeah, you’ve become
yeah, you have become
a fraction of the sum
the middle and the front
and now it’s coming back
hasn’t it come too far?
I was trying to help but I guess
I pushed too hard
now we can’t even touch it
afraid it’ll fall apart
Of all the tom waits cd and songs i don’t know but this song stayed my favorite for the longest still is one of my all time favorite T W songs… It reminds me of commuting in the Bay Area… Driving to Las Vegas and having to much time to think about important matters that need or deserve thought… I don’t know i’m talkin poop shoot here tell me what is your favorite TW song why and what does it make you think an feel….Crest fallen sidekick in an old cafe
Never slept with a dream before he had to go away
Theres a bell in the tower
Uncle ray bought a round
Dont worry about the army
In the cold cold ground
Now dont be a cry baby
When theres wood in the shed
Theres a bird in the chimmney
And a stone in my bed
When the roads washed out
They pass the bottle around
And wait in the arms
Of the cold cold ground
Cold cold ground
Theres a ribbon in the willow
And a tire swing rope
And a briar patch of berries
Takin over the slope
The catll sleep in the mailbox
And well never go to town
Til we bury every dream in
The cold cold ground
Cold cold ground
Gimme a winchester rifle and a whole box of shells
Blow the roof off the goat barn
Let it roll down the hill
The piano is firewood
Times square is a dream
I find well lay down together in the cold cold ground
Cold cold ground
Cold cold ground
Call the cops on the breedloves
Bring a Bible and a rope
And a whole box of rebel
And a bar of soap
Make a pile of trunk tires
And burn em all down
Bring a dollar with you baby
In the cold cold ground
Cold cold ground
Take a weathervane rooster
Throw rocks at his head
Stop talking to the neighbors
Til we all go dead
Beware of my temper
And the dog that Ive found
Break all the windows in the
Cold cold ground
Cold cold ground
Most people know this cat for the tune I wanna go home but i always liked this one…Drop kick me Jesus through the goal posts of life
End over end neither left nor to right
Straight through the heart of them righteous uprights
Drop kick me Jesus through the goal posts of life.
Make me, oh make me, Lord more than I am
Make me a piece in your master game plan
Free from the earthly tempestion below
I’ve got the will, Lord if you’ve got the toe.
Drop kick me Jesus through the goal posts of life
End over end neither left nor to right
Straight through the heart of them righteous uprights
Drop kick me Jesus through the goal posts of life.
Take all the brothers who’ve gone on before
And all of the sisters who’ve knocked on your door
All the departed dear loved ones of mine
Stick’em up front in the offensive line.
Drop kick me Jesus through the goal posts of life
End over end neither left nor to right
Straight through the heart of them righteous uprights
Drop kick me Jesus through the goal posts of life.
Yeah, Drop kick me Jesus through the goal posts of life
End over end neither left nor to right
Straight through the heart of them righteous uprights
Drop kick me Jesus through the goal posts of life.
