Ok, now I’m pissed off. The other day I went to this shitty party in the bohemian district of Lima and it was just a total crock of shit. I don’t even know where to begin in my sure to be lengthy diatribe against artificial bullshit people.

Actually, I should be fair. I was in a pissy mood anyway because I went to make a phone call and the fucking phone ate my quarter. Now, sure, this seems like a small enough thing, except that it happens all the fucking time and the reason that it happens is that the phone company down here doesn’t properly maintain their phones. They’re perfectly happy to have their clients loose a couple coins every now and then because there aren’t any other public phones and what the hell else are you going to use to make your calls? Ok, so it’s a power issue is it you fuckers? Well what about morality? What about if I decided to not pay a dollar on my phone bill just because I was too lazy to buy a pen with ink in it to write the check or some damn thing? Right, there’d be holy hell. People would put on airs and look down on me and label me a crook or whatever just because they’re in power. Meanwhile, the big corporation holds itself to a completely different standard and feels completely justified in fucking you whenever they feel like it.

Assholes.

So, what I’ve taken to doing is anytime a phone swallows my coin I take the receiver and bash the hell out of it for two or three minutes. I’m thinking of starting to pull the receiver completely off the phone, but I haven’t had the guts to do that yet. It seems a little extreme at first, but bit by bit you feel yourself enlightened to stand up for yourself in this world. It’s just what you got to do.

This is all taking place in Lima, by the way, where the lawlessness is so extreme that you don’t really have to worry about consequences. You probably couldn’t have street justice in the states because there’s always a camera or something watching you and the same company that runs the phones that rob you also has control over your mortgage so if you get caught on tape vandalizing them you’ll probably end up out in the street with some CEO Alec Baldwin looking tycoon laughing at you.

Fuck.

You know, shady business manufactures a lot of desperate people. Why don’t they act? I mean if somebody completely fucked me over and destroyed my ability to live I think I’d go after them in one way or another. It doesn’t matter how powerful somebody is. It’s possible to make their lives miserable.

If you lure somebody to a foreign country and kill them, can you be prosecuted in the US? Even if you could I bet the case would be hard to make because how is the CSI crime team going to scour the scene? You know what the bureaucracy is like here in Peru...ha, you’d be 100% safe.

But I digress.

Anyway, we were at this party with all these pseudo-art assholes who were so into themselves that they couldn’t spare even half a breath to take an interest in anyone else and just stood around holding their beers with pissed off expressions on their faces wondering why there wasn’t a stampede of people falling to the floor at their feet to worship their greatness.

I kind of love situations where people take themselves too seriously. All this crap about tolerating other people’s worldview is absurd. If you want to walk around with a corn-cob up your ass, that’s your choice, but I’m still going to laugh at you. That’s mine.

Anyway, they had these absolutely ridiculous pornographic movies being projected (at a skewed angle of course to represent the warped nature of reality or some such crap) on the wall. They were films of women laying on tables getting their vaginas sewed up by Asian seamstresses (who took the job way too seriously), and other women strapping on penises and violating men. Have you seen shit like this? These strap-ons even ejaculated, I wonder how they pulled that off? If you know, don’t write me.

So I of course was standing there making shadow puppets in front of these images which I thought was fucking hilarious. You’d think these art types would appreciate the ironic dichotomy of superimposing a child’s game over the image of such high brow intellectuality. But no, they just got pissed off about it. But fuck them, if they want to be intolerant fascists over the way I express myself then that’s their choice. Pity they couldn’t do anything about it because they were all four feet tall and twenty years old. Twenty year olds shouldn’t mess with a grown man. haha!

According to my girlfriend, somebody did take offense to the fact that I was giving random people rabbit ears and was ready to come over to me with a face of absolute fury, but his buddy stopped him. Artificial fuck. It was probably all an act, he probably got pissed off, then turned as if he was going to demand vengeance, then got a look at me and prayed to god somebody would stop him so that he could weasel out like a pansy and not loose face.

I was making rabbit ears for the love of god. Go fuck yourself!

I’ve got artists all figured out. Artists are people who are an embarrassment to their families (because they always come from rich families) and they don’t want to do anything with their lives but fuck around and screw people over. But the families are always clever (somebody somewhere had to make money sometime), and since they don’t want to loose face, they trade in favors with their close friends and the friends buy the one or two paintings the idiot fuckwad “artist” manages to produce a year and then when the subject of the son or daughter comes up in conversation they can say, “my son, oh he’s an artist...he just sold one of his masterpieces for fifty thousand dollars.” And everybody claps and sighs and pats the old fellow on the back in appreciation for how he’s managed to cover up an unseemly blemish.

Phonies.

If they had any stones at all they’d be writers. Writers can’t fake it, and there’s no money or respect involved so you know everybody who is in that racket is sincerely interested in pursuing the truth.

That and shadow bunnies.

Amen brother!

The End