Wednesday, April 22, 2015

“Give You Head”


No this isn’t one of those porno pieces, sorry to burst your bubble, so zip up your pants and put away the lotion.

You’re getting head here that is for sure, but unfortunately it’s not the kind of head you were hoping for, it’s the kind that includes a brain…you know that thinking thingy that a few of us use.  

This is a collection of random thoughts that were lurking in my noggin like a stalker in the bushes outside of your window.

There’s no rhyme or reason to any of it, just various bits of information that may, or may not, be useful to you.

Some of these things make my head insides hurt and peeve me beyond belief, make me question exactly what is going on here, and since it’s the internet and I, like many others of course, have a blog I figured I would share my thoughts with all you fine people here in cyberspace…so enjoy.

Okay here goes…

Number I:

If an athlete breaks the law, regardless of what sport they play and/or how talented they are, they should be punished just like any average Joe would be, no exceptions.

These people are paid to do what they love, it’s not like they are doing it out of the kindness of their hearts for the benefit of the fans, and so they shouldn’t be allotted any special privileges as a result of it and/or be considered above the law because of it.

If I’m working at McDonalds, and I decide to haul off and slam Birdie in the face with my fist all over some cold fries, I can pretty much guarantee that I would be escorted out in handcuffs and vacating the head fry cook position immediately, especially if the whole thing was caught on candid camera.


They are paid to represent a city, to represent a team and most importantly to represent the fans, so if they don’t act accordingly they should be allowed to play the game, no three strikes here, more like one and you’re done.

Call me old fashioned, but in my day if someone wanted a raise they earned it, not just held up a sign demanding it.

Money for nothing, and your chicken McNuggets for free!

Number II:

I personally think this Kendall Jones character (if you’re not familiar with her work click here), and others like her, need to be hunted just like the animals they hunt.

Am I bullying her, well let's ask all the animals she killed solely for the "sport" of it what they think about it.

I'm sorry, but I think her actions are disgusting and deplorable, as I'm sure some of you will feel my words are, and should not be celebrated to any extent.

It sickens me that these people display the carcasses of their kills as if it was a trophy, like they actually accomplished something praiseworthy.

They pose for pictures with it like if it was one of those comical cutouts you would find at the fair where you stick your face through and snap a picture, what an utter disgrace if you ask me.

I know all you so-called sport hunters out there will tell me this isn’t Looney Tunes, and that the animals you kill aren’t like Bugs Bunny or Daffy Duck, they are just soulless creatures here for our amusement since of course we are the superior species on this planet.

With that said, I must remind you that you’re not Elmer Fudd and you have no right going around shooting anything you want to just because you feel like it, all in the name of sport, if you want to call it that.


Number III:

No offense to Folgers coffee, but wouldn't the best part of waking up, be the fact that you actually woke up and didn't die in your sleep?

Don't get me wrong, I'm sure having Folgers in your cup is a nice perk (pardon the pun) but it definitely isn't the best part of waking up…just saying
All things considered though, if you're going to go, dying in your sleep would be the best way to do so, regardless of if there was Folgers in your cup or not.

However, if we’re being real here, life sucks more than Monica Lewinsky, so maybe just waking up isn’t all that great, so I say screw the coffee and wake up with some hard liquor in your cup followed by a nice Xanax biscotti.

Number IV:

I have some really bad news for you, whether you want to believe it or not, the children of today are not the future as we were lead to believe, but rather they are little sons of bitches with horrible attitudes and evil intentions.

Gone are the days of kids chomping on Flintstone chewable vitamins, wearing Kool-Aid smiles and of course kids saying the darndest things.

We all know that there are a few good apples in the spoiled bunch, but unfortunately they are few and far between, because most are rotten to the core and filled with gross and nasty worms, real bad “seeds” if you ask me.

This horrible brat epidemic could be blamed on the video games they play, the music they listen to or even on the movies/television shows they watch, but realistically we all know it’s our own damn fault, we created these little monsters and now we must pay the piper.  

Number V:

When someone calls you a motherfucker, are they implying that you fuck your mother, or that you fuck a mother, because honestly the latter isn't really all that bad, and if you happen to be a redneck I guess neither is the former.

Just wondering.


Number VI:

Before the person(s) demanding raises for all those fast-food employees does so, maybe they should get all the staff together and let them know that they need to show they deserve it first.

Since all this stuff started about giving raises to these employees, I started paying better attention to the service I received at these said establishments, and lo and behold it was less than stellar…I know, no big surprise there.

If anything it has showed me that they do not feel they have to work for this extra money they are asking for, that just because the cost of living has gone up so should their paycheck, and unfortunately that’s not the way it works.

As long as the employer is paying you at or above minimum wage than all is good, they aren’t breaking any laws and/or operating a sweat shop, sorry to break it to you.

Fast-food employment has always been an entry level position into the workforce as a whole, and not a stopping point, when this changed I’m not really sure but it certainly does puzzle me.

I know jobs are limited nowadays thanks to the economy, and sometimes you have to take whatever is available, but a fast-food clerk should not be a career, but rather a stepping stone onto bigger and better things.

Your resume should only start with that job, not end with it, well that is unless you are hoping to move up through the ranks within the company, then by all means go on with your badself.

For the record, I’m not saying that these employees don’t deserve a raise of some kind, but you must remember that with more money comes more responsibility, this is how it is across the board so just be prepared.

Number VII:

Idolizing a musician (or any other celebrity for that matter), who passed on by their own hands or by any other means, solely because you enjoyed their body of work is completely ridiculous.

I’m not hating, I’m just saying.

If you want to look up to someone who is no longer with us, who deserves it, then try someone like Martin Luther King Jr, Mother Teresa and/or Gandhi, just to name a few.

Now there’s absolutely nothing wrong with enjoying and/or even admiring an individual’s body of work, but you shouldn’t allow those feelings to transform into blind worship.

Being unaware of who that person really was behind closed doors, is more important than their work when it comes to looking up to them and/or emulating the character they portrayed in the public eye.


Number VIII:

Hard truth, I hope you really like shopping at Walmart, because if you don't support small businesses you'll have no choice but to.

Support small businesses, because once they're gone, we are at the mercy of big business, and that's not a good thing by any means.

Don't let small businesses become extinct, fight to keep them alive, they are the cornerstone of this great country of ours!

Go out of your way to shop small businesses, it will pay off in the long run...literally.

Shop small, with big results, support your local small businesses.

As I’m sure you can tell I’m pro small business.

The End…

Well there you go my friends, just some of the golden nuggets that I have stored in the penthouse of my body.

Take from them what you will, and feel free to rip me a new one if you so feel fit to, I’m totally okay with that.

Thanks for reading.

MJM

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

“Dirty Rats Using Garbage Suck”

I can’t stand drug addicts, and this includes alcoholics, because I personally think they are wasting the most precious gift that any of us could ever ask for, which of course is life.

There are so many people fighting to survive, battling some unforgiving circumstance that is beyond their control, while these people on the other hand do everything in their power to keep themselves in a comatose state, basically wasting what others are fighting so hard to keep and it makes me sick.

Now of course this doesn’t include all addicts, only those who openly and consciously choose to get high/ inebriated on a regular basis and do everything possible to stay that way, regardless of who they hurt in the process.


Before I have everyone jumping all over me and crying foul, let me explain why I feel the way I do.

Believe it or not, all addicts aren’t people who come from a dysfunctional upbringing, people who have a tortured soul and/or who are trying to mask some sort of terrible/unbearable pain.

There are some who do drugs just because they enjoy the effects internally, and disregard the effects externally to their bodies and to their loved ones, and those are the people I’m referring to in this piece.

I grew up with many people like this, and I witnessed firsthand just about any kind of addict you can possibly think of, all the destruction and chaos they caused, and the whole time never stopping long enough to inquire how their families/friends were holding up during the whole ordeal.


From the hard stuff like heroine and cocaine, to the prescribed stuff like painkillers and pills that are supposed to take all your worries away and make you feel as if you were floating on cloud nine.

And let’s not forget about those who let the alcohol flow, regardless of the brand and/or how it was obtained, like Niagara Falls.

Needless to say it wasn’t a pretty picture, not by any means, and not a lifestyle I would choose to entertain for me and my own, it was dark and dismal and actually very sad to say the least.

We are taught they have a disease; however it is us who have the disease.

They have to be the ones who are ill, because there are doctors/scientists who have told us so, "and we's two stewpid two think for ourselves ah duh", so it has to be true.


We make excuses for their behavior and allow them to feel as if they are the victims in all this, like they just have a very dangerous hobby and all our cares and concerns are only getting in the way of their good time.

I know when it comes to loved ones it’s easier to believe that, to think they wouldn’t purposely treat their bodies like a garbage truck and us like hindrance and/or pawns unless there was obviously something wrong with them, a sickness if you will.

I’ve been there, seen it for myself, and even at times made excuses and allowances for them as a result, so I know this to be the reality.

It wasn’t until I grew wiser that I was able to see the forest through the trees, I was able to see what was truly going on right in front of my eyes and all the dirty little secrets that we as a society brush under the rug to help us feel better about ourselves.

Now of course some of these people eventually wake up and attempt to change their lives for the better, to kick the habit and regain complete control of over their bodies, and that I’m all for and will be their biggest cheerleader. 

But it is something they must do on their own, we cannot force them to do it nor will any amount of begging and pleading make it happen if they are not truly willing themselves.

The bottom line is this, we must stop being enablers to these people and making excuses for their actions, because the only way they will get better, if that is even a possibility, is if we show them tough love and make it apparent to them that we will not just sit back and let them interfere with our happiness and well-being.

If they so choose to destroy themselves and waste the life they have been blessed with, then let them do so alone, that way there won’t be any collateral damage or innocent casualties.

This may sound harsh, but it’s the only way, we must toughen up and stop being just another insignificant piece in the game they are playing.

MJM

Thursday, April 2, 2015

“Shopping Snafus”

I'm not your typical man, I don't mind going to the store and buying things like feminine hygiene products as most do, because I know there’s no way that the other store goers could possibly mistake them as mine, but then again in today’s day and age you never really know.

My problem is when buying items and/or a combination of items that I feel shouldn’t be sold in stores where you’re not allowed to come in with a mask on, that make me feel awkward, and even in some cases a little odd.

Would it kill them to offer you some kind of covering for you face when you walk in, like maybe something in a paper or plastic?

For example, I can’t bring myself to buy Spic and Span, and not because I don’t think it’s a great cleaning agent, but rather because I don't want people to think I'm racist…is that wrong?

I have a hard time (no pun intended) buying petroleum jelly, I just don’t want people thinking I’m going to bop my bologna when I get home, sure we all know that’s exactly what I’m going to do, but I just don’t want them thinking it.

I won’t buy any sinus headache medicine or Chore Boys in the store either, because I’m too afraid of people thinking I’m a druggie and calling the DEA, I don’t want the bad boys coming for me.

I don’t buy any cream and/or powder where its main purpose is to relieve an itch, a fungus and/or a rash, that’s just not happening for obvious reasons.

Also no hemorrhoid creams or lice shampoos, I mean come on do I really need to explain this one?

Thank God for the internet and free porn, because if I had to rely on getting my rocks of from magazines I had to buy at the store, let’s just say that unfortunately there would be many un-wet dreams to be had for this perv.

I can’t buy shoes (size 13 baby) and condoms at the same time either, separately they are fine, but together I feel like it kills they only positive stereotype I have going for me…let’s just say there are no Magnums in my grocery cart if you catch my drift.

I have a rough time buying gerbils at the pet store, mainly because I can sometimes be confused for a gay man, and well you know that whole Richard Gere rumor…no thank you.

Buying medication for diarrhea and gas, something else I’m not too comfortable with, I mean do I really want strangers knowing what happening back there, it’s bad enough they already think I have gerbils wrestling my rectum.

Do I think too much into things, sure I do, but I can’t help it, it’s just how I am?

Maybe I should get myself one of those personal shoppers, the people who love to shop for others and don’t care what’s on the list as long at the pay is right.

MJM

Thursday, March 19, 2015

“Real American Heroes”


You may disagree with the war we are fighting and/or not be a big fan of the Commander-in-Chief, but don't let that taint your feelings towards the amazing men and women who give their all to serve and protect this great country of ours. Their actions warrant our love and support all the time and not just during designated holidays and/or when we as people feel the need to be patriotic, they deserve much better than that. They sacrifice so that we don’t have to, they keep a watchful eye so that we can rest peacefully and they diligently stand guard so that we can be at ease, just imagine what our lives would be like if they weren’t there.

“Forgot to Remember”…

It's easy to forget and to take for granted the many blessings that we have when we're not the ones on the front lines fighting the battle, but we must do our best to not let that happen and to always remember what we have and why we have it. We should salute our soldiers of the armed forces (past, present and future) every day, and thank them from the bottom of ours hearts for the freedoms, the rights and the peace of mind they have bestowed upon us, because without them none of that would be possible. Go out of your way to shake the hand of and/or to give a warm embrace to any person who has fought or is fighting for us and our country, show them that we appreciate it and that we are aware of their unselfish deeds.

“Foxtrot Alpha Mike India Lima Yankee”…

We must also not forget the families who are left behind when their significant other, their child/parent and/or their sibling decides to embark on this journey; they remain here with uncertainties as to what the future holds for them and their loved ones. These individuals proudly give so that we can be safeguarded, so that we can have confidence in knowing that everything will be alright and that the evils in this world would be kept at bay all thanks to the due diligence of their child/parent/sibling. They may lose a little piece of themselves in the process, but at the same time they gain a tremendous amount of respect and pride as a result of the actions and passion demonstrated by their soldiers. When you come across a family who has a loved one in the military, make sure to let them know that you recognize their sacrifice and that the absence of their family member weighs heavily upon us all. 

“The Military Machine”…

There are many components that allow this machine we know to function properly, and if we were to lose any part of it the whole thing would come crumbling down around us, so make sure to support and to show love to the fine men and women in uniform who make this world a safer place for us all. There is no amount of gratitude that we can express that is sufficient for all you have done for us and how we feel towards you as a person. With that said, I do want to thank you for your service, commitment and dedication to us and our country, I truly appreciate it and may God bless you all.

“Got Your 6”…

Keep in mind that some of our soldiers need more than a friendly gesture and/or an American flag flying outside your house. They need jobs, medical attention and/or a roof over their heads. They shouldn’t have to come back to our country, especially after everything they’ve done to keep it “our” country, to have to struggle just to survive. There is absolutely no justification for this and it is completely ridiculous and disgraceful to say the least. They fought for our lives, so the least we could do is fight for theirs. 

“A Personal Message to Our Soldiers”…

I have never served, so I wouldn’t even pretend to understand what it’s like to walk a mile in your boots, but I just wanted to share a personal experience that may be helpful to some of you. I have been down and out. I have been so low that I had to look up to see bottom. I felt like at the time, that the only way to find peace was to end it all. I can’t claim that our journeys took the same path, but I can promise you that you’re not alone and that help is out there. The trail may not be the easiest to travel through, but it is totally worth making the effort. You are worth it, and so are your family and friends. 



MJM

“Links”… 

Please check out the links below, and if possible contribute to their causes, because you may feel that it doesn’t affect you directly, but trust me it does. They have scratched our backs, so now it’s time we scratch theirs.

(These are only a few charities, there are many more who would benefit greatly from your generosity) 







Thursday, March 12, 2015

“Sunday Bloody Sunday”

I miss football; Sundays just aren’t the same without it.

Yes we have baseball, but truthfully I would rather watch the Cowboys win the Superbowl…who am I kidding, no I wouldn't.

I also know there's church, but it's not like we can sack the pastor and/or pour a bucket of the blood of Christ on him as if it was Gatorade for delivering a good sermon…or could we.

Honestly if we could I would frigging love it, church would kick more ass than a donkey punter and I would be there bright and early every Sunday, front row center.

Unfortunately though we can’t, we have to sit there quietly and completely bored out of our minds, kind of like being a Tampa Bay Bucs fan (sorry, I know low blow).

Now bust out those big foam fingers proclaiming somebody is number one and point them straight up to the heavens, because I’m about to take you to football church!

There are some commonalities the two share, like for example public prayers, Hail Marys and of course a person in a position of authority wearing a black and white uniform screwing someone over.

But what if they incorporated more footballsy things into church; it would really make it a heck (sorry for the harsh language) of a lot more interesting and would totally put more butts in those uncomfortable seats of theirs.

Speaking of their uncomfortable seats; or torture devices as I like to call them, what was the thinking behind that?

Whose bright idea was it to make sitting through a sermon just as much a pain in the rear as it in on the ears; this person must be fired at once or sentenced to a lifetime of being an altar boy at a church that gives out Viagra instead of those little wafers as the body of Christ.

Would a nice relaxing seat really be all that bad, I mean think about it, the reason most people don’t want to go is because the thought of substituting their cozy couch for a hard piece of wood makes their bums scream out in agony like they just sat on a freezing cold toilet seat.

Replace the horrendous benches with something more pleasant for the derriere and you may just see the attendance pick up, just saying.

Okay, enough about the seating arrangements, now back to the game…

Throw out the bible, send them to all the homeless people living out on the streets, and give them something to line their cardboard boxes with during the winter months so that they can keep warm.  

Replace it with sports card style literature, complete with action poses, stats (i.e. how many kills, how many stones thrown, etc.) and a piece of petrified gum.

Just don’t forget to throw in some rare cards to make it more intriguing, like Jesus miracle holograms and/or lost souls card which could include the spirits of people who ended up in purgatory.

Think of all the fun the kids will have trading them. 

Time to get things moving as if we were down by a score in the fourth quarter and we just hit the two-minute warning, so hold on tight because here we go…  

Smoking hot cheerleaders in short skirts shaking their pom-poms behind the priest also wouldn’t hurt, but please just no nuns in cheerleader’s outfits, ugh talk about nightmares.

A time clock would make things a little easier to tolerate too, because time flies during football season like a perfectly thrown spiral, but when in church it moves ever so slowly like a your time in a doctor’s waiting room, so knowing how much longer you had before you could rise up and fly out the door like an angel the better.

We all know that church already has a mascot, Mr. Jesus Christ himself, but he’s going to have to lighten up and stop telling everyone where they’re going when they die, unless of course it’s to the Superbowl!

Each church could have their own team name and colors, because nothing brings people closer together than being able to cheer on their favorite team while rocking out in their sweet gear.

We also must not forget about the holy trash talking, because what good is a competitive environment if we’re not able to tell opposing fans that by rooting for their church they are sinning and will burn in hell, like all those gay people, Democrats and just about anyone else who doesn’t follow our particular religion.

Having commentators give you the play-by-play of the goings on under the steeple would definitely spice up the atmosphere, especially if they shared all those dirty little secrets that are normally kept locked away like all those pesky Da Vinci codes.

Instead of just taking our money and not giving us anything in return, other than a new addition being built on to the priest’s mansion, they could really shake things up by allowing us to bet on the outcome of the service with the winner getting the collection plate proceeds.

Finally, get rid of the choir and have big name acts perform each Sunday, just like in the Superbowl halftime show, imagine going to church and seeing a Janet Jackson “wardrobe malfunction”…mmm chocolate nipple.


In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Football. A-Touchdown! 

MJM

Thursday, March 5, 2015

“Facebook: Like it or Lump it”

In addition to the "thumbs up" button, they should really have a "thumbs down" and a "middle finger" button, that way you could truly voice how you feel about some of the nonsense people post there.

I feel like the “Facebook man” is keeping us down, telling us to either like it or lump it.

They want to portray this happy-go-lucky atmosphere, make outsiders think that all their users are shiny happy people without a care in the world, a bunch of Grateful Dead groupies if you will.


It’s almost as if they believe we all have a permanent smile plastered across our faces like the Joker in The Dark Knight.

“Wanna know how I got these scars? Facebook was a drinker and a fiend. And one night he goes off crazier than usual. Mommy gets the kitchen knife to defend herself. He doesn't like that. Not. One. Bit. So - me watching - he takes the knife to her, laughing while he does it! Turns to me, and he says, "Why so serious, son?" Comes at me with the knife... "Why so serious?" He sticks the blade in my mouth... "Let's put a smile on that face!" And...why so serious?”

See how mean Facebook is?

However we all know the truth, we are a bunch of cynical and miserable bitches and bastards who look at the glass as half full, and we’re damn proud of it.

We are a group of cumquats who are too hip for MySpace, but not quite hip enough for Twitter, so we find ourselves chilling out on Facebook like an ice cube in a tall refreshing glass of lemonade.

We don’t go with the grain and we don’t go against it, we just sit there like a bump on a log doing absolutely nothing, letting real life pass us by while we happily scroll through page after page of people’s useless thoughts, opinions and random crap that happened to them throughout the day.

Facebook is our life blood; it’s what keeps us ticking and what keeps as alive!
The problem is that the almighty Facebook gods don’t let us be ourselves; they keep us from genuinely expressing ourselves as if we were Madonna in the late 80s.

Now with that said, I suggest we start a campaign to show them how serious we are about wanting these additions!

We could really clean things if this comes to fruition.

Think about it, people would think twice before they just haphazardly clicked post after writing some ridiculous rambling.

If you want to fight the power, and rage against the machine, then click here and support the cause!

Now this is a cause we should really be sharing with every single person we know on Facebook, and not those stupid games, quizzes and/or causes for cures and stuff…just saying.  

MJM

Thursday, February 19, 2015

“The ABCs of White-Trash”

Now this piece isn’t going to be about The Jackson 5 and their hit song “ABC”, or a trip down good old Sesame Street to get your learn on, so if you’re easily offended and/or looking for some of that wholesome humor that you would find on Lifetime then you’re in the wrong place.

This is a list of the ABCs of white-trash, a list of things that would make the Bundy's (Married with Children) blush, or at least feel a little uneasy about.

Here goes…

A is for alcoholics anonymous, because one needs something to do when they aren’t drinking. I find it funny that when they have their drunk on they don’t care about being anonymous, but as soon as they are getting help they don’t want anyone to know, it’s a secret. If you ask me I think these people are ashamed of the wrong thing. 

B is for bastard, which pretty much sums up all the kids born into white-trash families. Fathers are scarce in these families, at least ones that would admit to being the poppa without a DNA and Maury Povich. Mothers on the other hand really have no choice; it’s hard for them to deny that it wasn’t them blasting a kid of their lady parts in the delivery room.

C is for crack, and I don't mean the kind that is located down a plumber's back, which there is plenty of, but rather the kind that is white as snow and smells oh so great…or at least that’s what I’ve heard. This stuff flows like water in a white-trash household, more of a pastime than baseball is.


D is for drug test, they are to white-trash as kryptonite is to Superman. When one of these individuals is selected for a “random” drug test their stomachs turn, they feel as if they were just betrayed by their best friend. They know they are about to lose something that is near and dear to their heart, and I’m not talking about a job here, but rather something like foodstamps or their goodies (aka prescription drugs).

E is for eviction, because when mister landlord finally has enough of their shenanigans and decides to throw the bums out, an eviction is what they get. White-trash people are professionals when it comes to evictions, they know exactly how long they have before the big bad sheriff comes a knocking.

F is for fighting, fisticuffs and mouths running amok. It isn't a party until there is some scrapping going down like on an episode of Jerry Springer. Don’t get it twisted, they may all claim to hate the cops but they will call them when shit gets real, and unfortunately for the cops when they arrive on the scene they become the bad guys and are stuck in the middle of a white-trash hoedown.

G is for garbage, on trash night their eyes light up like the one working headlight on a hooptie, they get all happy and giddy because they know it’s almost time to shop. When the neighbors are nestled all snug in their beds, they hit the streets like gangbusters looking for all those great deals to furnish their trailers.        
                   
H is for hoes, which is unfortunately what all the female kind becomes when born under the white-trash umbrella. These skanks pass around STDs like Jehovah's Witnesses passing around their Watchtower crap. When their brother’s friends come over, it’s not to play Monopoly or Parcheesi, but to play naked cashier (they don’t play doctor because they don’t like to be unrealistic) with their sister.

I is for injustice, because anything that happens to them that they don’t like and/or agree with, it is labeled as an injustice. What, my car is being repossessed for lack of payment; but I’m only five months behind…what an injustice!

J is for jerk, because that is exactly what these freaks become when dealing with anyone in a customer service oriented field. They just feel it is their duty to make these people’s lives miserable.

K is for kids, and these freaks have a lot of them, from many different partners, they make BeBe's kids look like child’s play. They see dollar signs for every kid they pop out, foodstamp balance goes up and their excitement level follows suit, no more cheap hot dogs at their house. And from the birth certificate to the obituaries, these little sons of bitches are major pains in the ass and go out of their way to make our lives a living hell.  

L is for lice, what can I say, some families have cats and/or dogs as pets, but in a white-trash family they have those precious little head critters known as lice as their faithful companion. There is so much lice in their hair that they would need Moses to part them just to get a haircut.

M is for manners, which none of these douchebags have. They will make sure that you, and anyone around them, knows that they are just a few brain cells from flinging poop at each other and hanging out in the zoo in the monkey cage.

N is for noise, and white-trash individuals definitely know how to make it, and they love to make it at the most inopportune time and extremely loud. God forbid you ever have to live by any of these monsters, because trust me; you won’t be having a quiet nights rest any time soon.

O is for oblivious, which is something they all seem to be when dealing with real world problems/issues, but they sure as hell can tell you what happened last night on Big Brother or Jersey Shore without missing a beat.


P is for prescription pills, or as most call them, party favors. Take as prescribed means absolutely nothing when it comes to these little bad boys. They are eaten like candy, sometimes even kept in a Pez dispencer…one with a Rush Limbaugh topper.

Q is for queef, the ladies don’t want to be outdone by their male counterparts so when he farts she queefs. Also, regardless of which sex dealt it, they all blame it on the dog because it’s just the funny thing to do.

R is for roaches, these families have both, the ones to hold their little joints, and the big brown ones that come out at night when the lights go off, just like Batman. Surprisingly they don’t seem too concerned and/or willing to get rid of either any time soon.

S is for sue, and we’re not talking about a woman here, but rather the possibility of scamming someone, or some company over all with the hopes of scoring a big payday. These people live for the chance to sue, when an occasion presents itself they get all excited like a kid on Christmas morning waiting to open up his/her gift while mom and dad are sleeping.

T is for terminated, because nothing makes a white-trash individual feel as if they won the lottery more than getting fired from their job, because they know it’s now money for nothing and checks for free. Unemployment is their dream job.

U if for underwear, which is something that they won’t change all that often, that is unless you count turning them inside out as changing them, because then it is a little more frequent but still not enough to warrant good personal hygiene.

V is for violence; because when words just aren’t enough to hurt someone and crush their soul it’s time to get all fisty, stabby and shooty on their asses. That’ll teach them!

W is for work, which is something they try to avoid at all costs. Work is for the weak, for the people who like to pay all their bills on time and junk. And when they desire something shiny and new it’s time to hit the pawn shop to sell something they “borrowed” from their next-door neighbor.

X is for Xanax, they all take it and totally wipe their asses with the recommended dosage amount, because they are rebels and they are not having any of that nonsense. Trust me, they don’t take it to deal with anxieties/stresses in their life, considering none of them have jobs, bills or just about anything else that would cause a normal person to rip their hair out, so we all know that’s not it. The only reason they take it is to be like a kite. They say you trip when you take a bunch of it, but if you ask me, if I wanted to take a trip without leaving my house I would just watch the Travel channel.

Y is for yelling, which is an art form these kinds of people excel in. If it was an Olympic event they would take home the gold every time. They especially love to yell in public, where there are many ears around to hear all the crazy they spew from their pieholes.

Z is for zero, which is the number of times that a white-trash individual will brush their teeth and/or put on deodorant on any given day. What you don’t believe, try going to any Walmart and you will see I’m not lying here.

Well there you have it, the ABCs of white-trash brought to you by the mind of a man whose brain is stuck on crazy around the clock.

MJM


Now if you actually made it to the end of the piece without punching your computer screen and calling me something derogatory, then I got some other works you might like.