Michael Kindt's Blog, page 90
November 6, 2015
Is it weird that this picture gives me wood?
Is it weird that this picture gives me wood?
November 5, 2015
November 2, 2015
I’m so vain, I probably think this post is about me.
What is it with all the hair as one gets older? Knuckles, knees, I remove my shirt and look like I’m wearing a sweater. My pubes have become brambles, brambles so dense and so thick my manhood is lost and from a distance I look like a 70s era female porn star. Hair growing out of my ears so greedily I swear I can hear a soft rustling. Hair coming out of my nose, blending in with my mustache.
One must be vigilant!
I have thought about letting my nosehair grow, though. Letting it grow real long, past my chin, then braiding it. Maybe braided nosehair will become a new thing. I could be a trendsetter and the coolness that has been so elusive in my life will finally be mine.
Hey, it couldn’t look any sillier than those plugs people put in their earlobes these days.
November 1, 2015
If a Christian is fined $135,000 for refusing to bake a cake,...
If a Christian is fined $135,000 for refusing to bake a cake, but a Muslim is awarded $240,000 for refusing to deliver alcohol, how much will a gay recovering alcoholic newlywed be fined or awarded for delivering or refusing to deliver a case of Christian Brothers brandy to a Muslim birthday party?
October 30, 2015
The Royal AC/DC fan
Tonight at T.R.E.A., I’m sitting there getting my drunk on, looking at the World Series. Since the Cubs are out it, what’s the point? Hey, I’ll keep an eye on it, though, if only to see those bastards the Mets roast in hell.
Over at a table was a serious Royals fan. He was wearing Royals garb, almost as if it were clothes. A hat, a jersey, everything. He was glued to the screen…until the Mets started winning, at which point he decided to drink and play the jukebox.
This guy looked like we was about 50. He had his woman there and several old army buddies (I am assuming). Once the Mets started winning, they lost interest in the game and decided to party down, getting buckets of beer (literally: it’s a bucket full of ice with a six pack in it).
The guy’s woman was monumentally bored. If she had rolled her eyes anymore they would’ve become bowling balls. Once the Royals started going downhill, she started whining “Can we go home now? Can we go home now?”
But the guy was on a party now, with his old army buddies, and they were playing AC/DC. I didn’t realize the T.R.E.A. jukebox had so much AC/DC, but, damn, it must have the whole catalog.
So I jammed out to the tunes and listened to this woman whine. She wanted to go home so bad and, look, there’s a door right there. Her man kept trying to buy her a drink. “I know you like screwdrivers. Have a screwdriver. Relax.”
I wondered about their relationship. Why, in God’s name, did he bring her? Or did she insist on coming? What’s the dynamic here? Really, though, if you wanna go home, this is America. Go the fuck home. Or is he one of those insecure pussy guys who insists on always having his woman around, knowing everywhere she is, who she talks to, etc? Did he, in other words, bring all this whining on himself?
I never found out the answer. About 10:30 my woman showed up and told me it was time to go home.
Yes, ma'am.
Job Service
is a very weird place. I haven’t been there in quite some time. It’s a warren of cubicles the minions of which are dressed smart casual.
The lady at the desk explained to me how I didn’t have to come there, how it was all done online now. I shrugged.
There are many, many jobs in this area, according to the printout I was given to peruse. I focused on those of 20 hours are less.
“I just need to get out of the house,” I explained to the guy who was sitting at the table at which I, too, was sitting.
He turned away, disturbed by a Perfect Stranger talking to him for No Reason.
There was a job feeding birds. 15 hours a week. Must be able to lift 50 pound bags of feed. I applied for it, but nothing else struck my fancy.
I hope I get the bird-feeding job. It would be great if anybody ever asked me what I did for a living.
“I feed the birds,” I would announce proudly.
I am in serious wonderment over this bird-feeding job. What sort of birds are they? How hungry are they? Do they free range or cage fester? The listing had virtually no information, though the fact that I would have to tote 50 pound bags of feed says something. It says A LOT OF BIRDS or VERY BIG BIRDS or VERY HUNGRY BIRDS.
Christ, I hope they’re ostriches, emus, something. A zillion clucking chickens would be, as they always are, a huge let down.
Fuck chickens.
herpicusderpicus:
sanctusdehonos:
thewinchestersimpalasblog:
w...
I think everyone could learn a lesson from him.
Source: http://kfor.com/2015/10/29/mans-post-about-traffic-stop-goes-viral/
Spectacular
I’m waiting for the SJW to come on here screaming “BLACK LIVES MATTER” and get shitty cuz that dude hashtagged it “all lives matter”
“I had one positive experience with sane individuals, therefore everyone else is also just as sane and courteous.”
Over-generalizations are bad in any case, no matter what. There are always exceptions to rigid mindsets- which is why these things need to be fluid and not set in stone.
However, there’s a clear and present problem here- and it’s not just because of peoples’ mentalities or viewpoints towards the police/not complying.
Nice to hear of a positive experience for once I suppose.
@herpicusderpicus That’s not what he’s saying at all. I recommend rereading his post.
It is nice to hear of a positive experience. The vast majority are not reported. I find it quite telling that the liberal drones are responding with such anger and hostility to one black man reporting a positive interaction with police.
sanctusdehonos:
thewinchestersimpalasblog:
wiltingwillowws:
I...
I think everyone could learn a lesson from him.
Source: http://kfor.com/2015/10/29/mans-post-about-traffic-stop-goes-viral/
Spectacular
I’m waiting for the SJW to come on here screaming “BLACK LIVES MATTER” and get shitty cuz that dude hashtagged it “all lives matter”
October 29, 2015
My favorite movie of all time is Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
I don’t think it’s the best horror movie ever made (which I do), I think it’s the best movie ever made.
It has a raw honesty and lack of pretension, not only in the script, but the actors, in the coloring, in the mood. I watch it every October and I see something new in it. Franklin becomes more helpless, more whiny, more bratty. Leatherface becomes more evil. The simple, rural country house becomes more creepy. The generator! It’s like a death knell.
It’s truly a brilliant piece of cinematic work.
Sometimes low budget is best. When you over-produce things they look, first of all, over produced.
Texas Chainsaw Massacre is cinematic garage rock.
