Michael Kindt's Blog, page 54

What need does a man have of the hair on his head?

If he grows it long, he looks like a woman. If he puts it into a pony-tail, no one is fooled. He is is either going bald or clinging to some past glory.

A man, a grown man, actually, has no need of hair, unless it is facial.

Men, I’m sorry, have facial hair. In some way. In some capacity. If you’re a man and you don’t, then you’re a little girl or little boy.

Too bad your job calls you that, but then, you’re easier to control. Little boys and little girls are readily parented.

Grow that shit out. Comb it. Strut around. You’re a man, for Christ sake!

Here’s some West Coast punk I’ve been enamored with.Always...

Here’s some West Coast punk I’ve been enamored with.

Always preferred the West Coast stuff (Agent Orange, et. al.), but whatever. Still love the Ramones, East Coast all the way, in that case.

We should all shave our heads and scream into a mic. Fuck yeah.

Sold out all my Compressco $CCLP shares at an 87.40% profit.

Because the working class is screwed under ObamaCare, and clearly no President will give me healthcare, I have hereby decided to become rich.

Now, it’s true: I can get affordable (or even free!) healthcare if I was destitute.

Rich, though. It sounds a lot funner than destitute. I think I could totally get down with rich.

Yeah?

“You’re not fighting for free speech. You’re fighting for...

“You’re not fighting for free speech. You’re fighting for the right to be a pussy and not hear opinions you don’t like.”

Good stuff, Maynard.

Today I learned that Kool-Aid is much improved by a healthy dollop of vodka.

Kool-Aid & SpaghettiOs

Bought some grape Kool-Aid. Haven’t had Kool-Aid in centuries. I wonder if I’ll still like it?

When we were little kids, Mom always made us Kool-Aid in the summer so we wouldn’t steal all her Pepsi. Mom had a serious Pepsi thing and it was expensive, comparatively, to Kool-Aid.

27 cents this packet of grape Kool-Aid cost me. Jesus, how cheap was it then? Did they actually give YOU money to take it?

And since we were dirt poor and our father never paid a dime in child support, Kool-Aid and SpaghettiOs from a can was they way we rolled.

Nowadays, of course, I am built out of manlier things, like thunderstorms, John Wayne movies, and big dicks, but those days weren’t bad at all. Not at all.

BRB, going back to the store for a can of SpaghettiOs.

(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xn-QH...) Along came a...

(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xn-QHIzNRyQ)

Along came a gal. She sold me all she had to sell. Left me standing at the Big Hotel.

I was asked by ichoosecake what my rationale for supporting Trump was. You don't wanna hear it, but here it is nevertheless

I support him because he’s a liberal Republican, like me, and I agree with much of what he says.

Additionally, he is fun.

It also says something when the media propaganda machine hates you, and both parties, including your own, hates you as well. Yet, you’re still winning despite it all. It gives me hope that no matter what Big Brother tells us what we should think, we can still make up our own minds. Rebellion in 2016 against the “powers that be”, has actually become voting for Trump. This fascinates me.

He is hated becase he is an unapologetic smartass. He doesn’t walk on PC eggshells and kisses no one’s ass, not even the Koch brothers, who are actually thinking of supporting the criminal, Hillary Clinton. He utterly lacks the greasy slickness of Obama. He is hated because he thinks maybe, just maybe, we shouldn’t let everyone and their dog into this country, what with the whole limited resources thing. And also, why let people into this country who hate everything about us? For that he gets hate speech, being called a racist. If you disagree with with liberalism’s view on immigration, you are bullied with the hate term “racist”.

But mainly, it’s because he’s fun and not yet another ass-kissing, cock-sucking, special-interest serving politician. We have elected how many politicians to how many offices over the decades? How has that been working for us?

Let’s elect an actual real live person for once, and see how it goes.

PISSIN’ IN THE WIND - Jerry Jeff Walker

PISSIN’ IN THE WIND - Jerry Jeff Walker

early-onset-of-night:“What do I do for a living? I live for a...

early-onset-of-night:

“What do I do for a living? I live for a living. When I moved out in the forest 35 years ago, people said “You can’t escape reality.” I went TO reality. You’re living in a virtual reality. You don’t even know where your stuff comes from, don’t even know where your poop goes.

I live in nature where everything is connected, circular. The seasons are circular. The planet is circular…Do people live in circles today? No. They live in boxes. They wake up every morning in a box of their bedrooms because a box next to them started making beeping noises to tell them it was time to get up. They eat their breakfast out of a box and then they throw that box away into another box.  Then they leave the box where they live and get into another box with wheels and drive to work, which is just another big box broken into little cubicle boxes where a bunch of people spend their days sitting and staring at the computer boxes in front of them. When the day is over, everyone gets into the box with wheels again and goes home to the house boxes and spends the evening staring at the television boxes for entertainment. They get their music from a box, they get their food from a box, they keep their clothing in a box, they live their lives in a box.“

-Eustace Conway

One of my more successful posts and a quote I find truly inspiring (and have actually acted upon).

I don’t know what the hell I’m trying to do, but I’m trying to do something. MIDLIFE CRISIS, my family keeps telling me (they are not exactly supportive), but I see no ‘Vette, no Porsche. I have no real or serious interest in women., especially young women. Have you tried to talk to a woman in her twenties? It’s like talking to the internet or late night tv. They aren’t even real people. They’re like ghosts.

If this is my midlife crisis, well, I’m gonna own it: Go into the furthest woods with your two beloved dogs, spend all the money you have, and try to get a residential fishing license.

I’ll clue you in on step two.