A smattering of thoughts from the week...

Since when does a sleeve full of tattoos and gauged ears qualify you to work in a health food store? Organic salmon links do not a health nut make, nor does self-mutilation or dyed hair. However, I can’t help but grimace at the idea that a guy who looks like he set out to be a guitar god and failed miserably is now a connoisseur of organic cheeses and animal testing-free shampoo. Granted, this establishment is larger than any mom-and-pop general store, it seems more false than the labels let on. I realize everyone has their place and deserves fair employment, I just find it romantic how the socially-independent have gravitated toward the organic goods industry. Perhaps therein lies the newly mutated stigma associated with healthy living; not only do followers smell like patchouli and wear hemp clothing, they are also death metal bloggers with discount punch cards at Hot Topic. Color me old fashion, but I would have to imagine that this new factor could potentially hinder the future development of the Organic Movement, much how bored, middle class thrill-seekers fucked up the Hippy Movement.


Voting in America is like sticking your dick in a running blender and expecting a daiquiri when you’re finished.


I finally found a chill, Irish pub that sells good beer at a reasonable price. I’d write home about it but I don’t think JesusFuckYeah is an actual word.


I am still baffled at the argument of whether humans are a monogamous species or not. The question isn’t if you’d enjoy fucking everything in your path and then watching sports, douchey. (Although I am in no way an expert on animal behavior) It seems to me the idea behind monogamy is whether it is necessary for the continuation of the species. Yes, Komodo Dragons hangout in their territories and sex anyone who walks by, but that is because the female buries the eggs and hopes for the best. There isn’t a lot of parenting required; Hey, kid, don’t get eaten before your balls drop. But if you understand Penguins, they waste months making sure one little shit survives the ice storm. Human infants require exceptional care in order to be producing members of, not only our society, but of our ecosystem. In short, be a good baby-daddy or snip your already retarded sperm supply.


I’m beginning to think I push people away. That, or I placate things I find intolerable until they spill over into my daily conversations. Either way, I’m paving the trail to a lonely life with burning bridges and the idiosyncrasies that lit them.

Top Five Things I Miss About Michigan

Here are the top five things I miss about Michigan:


1. Liquor laws.
Here in Rhode Island, all liquor and beer sales are done at designated stores, not supermarkets or stop ‘n shops. Convenience stores are no longer convenient on account of their not being able to carry my drug of choice. Not only am I required to frequent these opiate dens in order to purchase my stash, but they can only legally sell to me until 10pm nightly, with nothing ado after 6pm on Sundays (if at all). To top this shit off, bars can only serve until 1pm Sun-Thur, and Friday and Saturday at their discretion.

Why, in these times of war and woe, have they reduced me to a common sot. Being one who would put themselves out in order to slug off the sweet teat of God in a vain effort to lull the demons, I find it nonetheless degrading to have to seek out these hidden bootleggers in order to receive my fix. In a city of Asian spas (read: $120 dollar shower, massage and BJ) and vibrant nightlife, no one should be subjected to such totalitarian oppression when merely wanting to taste the sweet juices of freedom.

2. Dunkin’ Donuts
I speak not of missing this particular franchise. Instead, I am bewildered at its presence. There is a DD within a two-minute drive from wherever you are. In fact, the premier event arena of the state is aptly name the Dunkin’ Donuts Center. My coworkers are virtually addicted. I have even found myself on two occasions to have left my house, en route to work, only to be sucked in by it’s comforting logo (orange and pink; the only good donuts) and promise of a coffee that isn’t the tar-pit taste of a Starbuck’s signature flavor: Satan Roast Medium Columbian Blend.

Although I am not staunchly opposed to their #5 bacon, egg and cheese bagel with coffee, I am disgusted by their tactless saturation. Give me my Round’s and Potter’s and I’ll live a full life.

3. Traffic
People here drive like they are twenty minutes late for a fucking abortion and they aren’t sure which lane to be in, plus riding your bumper like it’s the next best thing since Furby®.

When I’m driving the speed limit and talking on my phone, don’t ride my ass and make the pinky/thumb gesture at me as though I’m the reason you’re having a rough life. I’d drive better if I was watching the road and not checking to see if you’re in my goddamned trunk yet. Want advice? Leave one minute earlier tomorrow and I won’t be there.

Not that Michigan drivers are better, but at least I can handle the dilapidated Broughams and Sunday ten-under drivers with an ounce of patience.

4. Smoking
I’m a smoker. Fuck you for judging me. I am a person who requires a cigarette with my adult beverages, much like a fapper requires lotion with his adult movies. Is it so bad to have a smoking section in a building? What is the harm in smoking publicly that isn’t equal to a nonsmoker microwaving in plastic or dying textiles with 1-Amino-2, 4-dibromoanthraquinone? Exactly. In layman’s terms, daddy needs a smoke when he’s drinking “wake-up-with-the-mistake” juice.

Oh, and the over-seven dollars for my Parliaments can kiss my ass as well.

5. Friends

I miss you assholes. Of all the things that complete me, the last part I thought would be a factor was the development of my long-gestated relationship with the people and places that make up Traverse City. I miss the familiar faces, the pine-scented nights, even the faux-comfort that rides sidesaddle with small town living.

But nothing beats the soul-enriching value of the pure diversity that a large American city offers.

For all of you still arrested by your environment, spend one day with me here in the salty East. All it takes is one glance of the city-scape at dusk to remind you that there is a great purpose and that it exists somewhere outside of your peripherals. It took me finally walking away from the familiar to find what is truly beautiful in the unknown: possibility. And it is that possibility that will ultimately propel me into the future I have always yearned for.