A Night In L.A.

The exclusive back room of the club who's name escapes me looked like the remnants of a velvet sneeze. Giant mustard yellow couches, oversized lemon yellow chairs, and orange-yellow velvet drapes hung on the wall splattered with random art arranged much like a game of tetris. I don't entirely remember how I became the focus of everyone's attention, but I had just done some coke in the bathroom with Chloe Sevigny and was talking incessantly. My monologue was given a soundtrack by the club music playing distantly. I looked out at my new captivated friends stricken with their beauty and fashion. All drinking designer martinis and wearing expensive shoes. I don't remember the subject of the conversation but I do remember everyone laughing and nodding in agreement while they hung on every word I said.

I also remember saying, "If you ask me we're looking at the beginning of the end of Johnny's career. Two more pirate movies and using Michael Jackson as a source of character acting is simply a joke. Next thing you know he'll be staring in 21 Jump Street The New Class on the WB."

A wave of giggles and affirming smiles crossed my loyal listeners until something caught their eye off to my right. I looked to see what could possibly divert their attention from my engaging banter. There stood Johnny Depp. He gave me a cold glare and walked out of the room briskly.

I looked back and my crowd had betrayed me. Looking away, coughing, and mumbling to themselves. My comments had gone from mildly humorous to callous and humiliating. "Fuck this." I said to myself. My Manhattan was empty and I was suddenly bored.

I excused myself and walked to the dimly lit private bar and ordered a shot of Johnny Walker Blue Label.

"Make that two.", a scratchy voice from behind me said.

Mickey Rourke lit a cigarette and leaned against the bar frightfully close to me. I've always feared this man and here he was blowing smoke in my face. The drinks came quickly and we toasted each other silently. He was wearing red tinted sunglasses and a white tee shirt tucked into his jeans that were held up by a belt buckle with two nine millimeters and a rose engraved on it. He tucked his Marborro Reds back in the brest pocket of his leather jacket and continued.

"You know what's wrong with this town? Too man assholes. Look over there, assholes, and over there, more assholes. If it wasn't for all the coke and Mexicans this town would fall into the goddamn Pacific.", he took a deep drag off his cig. "Did you hear about that Power Ranger who killed a man and stole his yacht?"

"Can't say that I have."

"He tied his leg to an anchor and sank him to the bottom of the fucking ocean. You never know about people these days. My little nephews and nieces used to watch that shit all the time never knowing that deep within the heart of their hero the Green or Yellow or whatever-the-hell Power fuck Ranger, was a bloody murderer. It's only fitting if you ask me. Everyone is nuts. If it wasn't for the zanex I'd probably have murdered someone by now too, but people would just say, 'I saw it coming.' Now, why do you think they would say that?"

I was growing weary of his ranting "Because everyone knows you're a drug addicted psychopath?"

Yet another cold stare. Next thing I know I'm lying on the floor semi-unconscious. I felt Mickey going through my pockets taking my money clip, cigerettes, and what little cocaine I had left right before I passed out. Fade to black.

I woke up naked sitting in a hot tub somewhere in what smelled like Malibu Beach. There was a party going on and I needed a smoke. I grabbed a pack that was convienently placed by my head. In the wrapping was a business card with a note, "Sorry about the nose, Jackie will take care of you." The card was for a dry cleaners in Hollywood, where I assumed my clothes was. I touched my nose and flinched in pain. I hope my eyes weren't blackened by the once semi pro boxer's jab.

A large breasted Hispanic woman eased her way into the hot tub and grabbed my cock. "Welcome to Earth again, gorgeous."

"Hi, yourself. I guess you're Jackie. Where the hell am I?"

"Malibu."

"Yeah, but who's place is this?"

"I thought it was yours."

"It very well could be. Who are all these people?"

"There's a party going on."

She continued stroking my cock while I sucked down my smoke. "How the hell did I get here?"

"Shut up, baby just go with it."

Four more equally beautiful women eased into the water at the other end of the mammoth tub. "Sounds like a plan to me, sugar."

"I think this man wants to talk to you.", Jackie

I looked up and it was Johnny Depp. Silently he bent down and gently kissed me on the cheek. I was so stunned I couldn't say a word. He looked at me, smiled, and disappeared into the party. The girls started to giggle and I was wondering what the fuck was going on.

To be continued...

God I Love Texas

As I was driving through Hobbs a few days ago, a sudden feeling of jubilation tore through me like a case of ex lax: Soon I was to be in Texas. As that feeling ripped through me, I looked up and saw that beautiful sign of entrance into this great land. Texas gets in your blood, you just know when you are home.

I missed all the insanity, the friendly folks, the 4.2% beer, the blonds, the legs, and of course, the guns. Just a few minutes ago, the man I believe to be the tool pusher (you can usually tell by the air of authority, though be it drunken) asked me if the geologist, company man, or other mudlogger was still here. I said that only Jim, the other logger, was here but asleep. He said ok, and that he and some hands were going to shoot off some rounds, but that he would wait till Jim woke up. Of course, I said my lips were sealed, not being a ho ass trick of a rat, and inquired about the guns. Me wantie to shoot gunny!

That's the kind of place this state is, just a fucking free for all. Just don't shoot the BOP.

And really, isn't that a good lesson applicable to everyday life?

Chad was right about Austin, it is a changin'. No longer the hippie/rugged individualist's town, it's become flooded with Dell Yuppies (or as I call them, cocksuckers), NY and LA rejects that couldn't make it, coked out Paris Hilton wannabes, reality show rejects, and all the Fazooli's you can handle, and then some. . Of course, there is a great deal of room for cross genres. Point of fact, Brad's (of Brad and Chad fame) girlfriend cheated on him with a bachelorette reject. I saw them at Kenichi, along with about 3 coke dealers (no bullshit). So sad on so many levels

Interesting sidenote, at bars, coke dealers are the ones who keep wiping their noses AND lead girls to the bathroom. Both prerequisites are necessary to make the distinction.

So Chad, you aren't a Townie, especially since you don't live there anymore. 4th street has created a world so far away from what Austin once was, filled with people who don't belong, that it ain't what it use to be.

I miss you Austin, but still, Yahweh bless Texas.

Fazooli.

rockreeder

The Last Game Of Poker

I love poker. I love it too much. I replaced my alcoholism and drug use for the game of chance. I'm a gambler, but when you waste over four hundred dollers a month on a sport that you are obvously not good at it's time to reevaluate.

I'm done. It's over. No more poker. I decided this last night when my two pair didn't stand up against my friends top pair that tripped up on the river. One last stand. One last oportunity to show my stuff, and out of almost 3o players I placed 3rd. About two hundred and thirty dollers later here I sit. Drunk as a skunk and typing on my computer.

I'm not running the spell check on this bad boy because It should remain raw. I know I"m a bad speller. Everyone who knows me knows that I'm a bad speller. You all know what I'm saying so fucking deal with it.

The big gamble. The chance to risk it all for the big bucks. We all have a bit of that in our system. Some of us tend to thrive on the feeling of victory that occurs when the odds work out in your favor. That's the rush I seek. That's the feeling I wish to never give up, but the fact is that that feeling doesn't always happen. Sometimes you lose shitloads of money, sometimes you lose the rent. Sometimes you take it too far and sit back and wonder what the fuck you were thinking. That's all over for me now. There will be no more reckless gampling. Good bye party poker and good bye house games. Tonight was it.

I met a beautiful woman at the game though. Wooing her will be a chore. She's new in town and I really don't make the best boyfriend material and lets face it I've got to do more tha....

Four Days Later

That's where I trailed off and passed out on the sofa. I don't know what I was trying to say there at the end but I'm sure it was something like: ... hit on her drunker than Cooter Brown. I went to see her the next day in a truly sad display. As an offering of friendship I caught her at the end of her shift at a campus non-corporate coffee house and gave her a picture that I had taken of her the day before, "I look retarded in this picture." She said almost sweetly. I had been so blind to her beauty that I didn't realize that she really did look retarded. I was immidiatly embarassed. "I'm leaving for a while now so I won't be at the game to bother you with my drunkeness anymore." I said. No responce, just a smile. She was leaving work and told me to have a safe trip and gave me a light pat on the back while I swirled the sweetner into my decaf. Out the door she went and as did I. I tossed the coffee and drove back to the place I was staying.

On this trip back to Ausitn I also went to the local trendy clubs that have sprung up since I've left. Six, Foundation, Glass, and Light. What a bunch of assholes! I've never been in a bunch of bars that were filled with such smug and unfriendly people. The only friendly people there where the managers and the staff who were people I've known since I worked downtown. Beautiful women, but all keeping to themselvs or making out with the one guy that brought them there to get them drunk enough to get her to agree to have his dick in her ass. I got out as soon as I could.

I just don't fit in in Austin anymore. Not being a student means I'm just a resident when I visit, a townie. Being a townie means you have to be some counter culture coffee drinking starving artist or a well dressed prick. I'm neither. I'm nothing in that town without my student status. I still have great memories down there though and the food is always fantastic. Which reminds me, I ate at Flemmings and had a wonderfull evening with an ex of mine. At least I thought we had a wonderfull evening. I found out the next day that I had apparently ruined it by playfully asking for a kiss. She seemed fine with it at the time, oh well, Mr. Smooth strikes again.

Another girl I wanted to see canceled on a date with me. Jesus I'm lame. If you can't tell I'm a little depressed about my female situation. Wasn't this post about poker? Fuck it. Nobody reads this shit anyway.

Governmental Systems as Stop Flow Controls for Monetary Transferance/Teenage Sex Map

An Odd thought occurred to me last night about the real purpose of any governmental institution. There is, of course, the concept of the "social contract" in that governments, whatever they may be, are chosen by the populace to implement a stable system of rules and programs to benefit them. These social contracts varying widely often based on the cultural/violent tendencies of the people bound, and vice versa, by them.

This old notion, in our advancing understanding of the interrelated fields of policy, foreign and domestic, and economics (again, bound by whatever arbitrary rules are put in place by the populace), is, well, all bullshit.

This idea, this concept, came to me very insidiously, as I was trying to sleep, yet watching the sky move from black to light blue. It is the notion that governmental systems are really just valves on the monetary flow in-between the social strata, the acceleration rather than the velocity, if you know what I mean. For example, a dictatorship concentrates the vast plurality, if not majority, of money into the hands of the dictator. The very basis of this governmental system allows for, essentially, this form of class differentiation to continue forever, or at least until such time as the dictator dies, and/or possibly his offspring are unable to maintain the dictatorship, don't want to maintain the current standard, or are simply clubbed to death by their insanity-threshold-long-passed nannies who hated them all along. Possibly by double-sided cocks, a la Lock Stock, a classic film if ever there was one. The other option is to establish a dynasty, which we as a species just fucking love, thus creating a monarchy.

I will continue with examples to further imply my notion.

America, bastion of the sort-of-free. Great fucking place, although definitely in decline. Just watch MTV or the new generation of semi-retarded morons with, literally, no clue about consequences or really, what the fuck is going on. China, in a very confrontational way, sees this and is going to exploit it for the next 50 years, thanks to Wal-Mart. Thanks Wal-Mart! India is doing the same, but in a much more Western-friendly style. Plus, India has a class and dignity China is probably pissed off about, due to their lack of a Maoist leader who felt all should forget the past by killing those with historical knowledge, and possibly eat them.

Ok. My point is America has a Capitalist Republic form of government. This is good for a multitude of players, though definitely not the majority, as well as the greased wheel. This form of government allows for a relatively fast acceleration of money from one hand to another. This is why Texas oilmen can lose $2 billion in a month betting on the silver commodity trade. This form of government allows the people to move up or down said social strata in a span ranging from days to lifetimes. Problem with this is, in our evolving perception of the global economy, we ourselves are becoming victims of this virtue by the loss (maybe diffusion is a better term) of our greatest tool of wealth gathering: information. Though that is a very relevant and interrelated point, I am off topic, and digress.

America is also changing. Our laws have become such that the flow of wealth is becoming a one-way sieve, where everything flows up, and nothing down. Like pulling apart Chinese finger cuffs. This is of course, a foolish form of government made by ideological idiots, banking on the fact that being 17th educationally in the world, we will all be too stupid to notice. Don't Agree? Look up: Recent Bankruptcy law, recent Medicare law, recent energy bill, and, of course, the famous Bush Tax cut, giving %50 of the cut to the richest %1 of the populace, because they bought a $10,000 plate dinner to fund our current corrupt joke of a system.

The problem with this sort of system, and we saw this very same sort of problem in the late 90's-early 00's, is that without the constant back and forth within the varying social strata, the money supply cannot grow naturally, and thus various concentrations of wealth, i.e. corporations, who are particularly in fear of dipping down into a lower strata, begin, in a sense, to manufacture money. We all love Enron. They use to do it with banks, but now any large aggregate can do it with, essentially, creative paperwork.

No real surprise here that this happened/happens/is going to happen, as we follow the lead, and our government has been doing it for years through deficits. The modern form took place in WW2 to finance the war (although this was a much more noble outing with an explicit deal between the Federal Reserve and "Actual" government to buy and sell shitloads of bonds and notes, and in fact helped define our current financial system, at least the good part), and eventually became twisted and corrupted by these various monetary aggregates, using, of all things, paranoia, propaganda, and slight of hand.

I find the happiest balance in England. A moderately socialist system, free health care (which does a great deal to stem much of the negative backlash of the wide variances of social classes), great educational system, and, the linchpin, stable enough governmental system to provide that those at the top cannot plummet too far too fast (though it does happen, usually through financial institutions dealing with south east Asian options and commodities markets. It too happened in the late 90's). This helps to alleviate the potentially dangerous paranoia, which leads to the aforementioned magic money making schemes. Not to mention the avenues of advance are still open, available to the quickest intellectually and socially. Or at least, those who care about that sort of thing. Hell, they even have a pseudo-monarchy providing the perception of monetary stability. This blends very well with Chad's killer Celebrity theory.

So what does this all mean? Well, various aggregates/corporations/concentrations have learned that the greased wheel can lead to a one-way system of monetary flow, without nagging social responsibilities such as paying taxes. The Homeland Security Act had an interesting amendment slipped in that allowed for mainland companies in the US to go "overseas" (Caribbean) and establish nominal HQ's, removing almost any requirements to pay any Taxes, Federal or otherwise. Arthur Andersen Consulting, of Enron document shredding fame, pushed for this very big, changed it's name to Accenture as to not be remembered for the nasty deed of that "other" company, transferred it's HQ to the Bahamas, and then got a $10 Billion logistics contract with Homeland Security. What a Country!

Companies are doing this all the time. Wal-Mart is practically in-league with the Chinese, responsible for the majority of their technical expertise as well as the massive, massive outflow of U.S. currency in a huge trade deficit, which they turn around and buy U.S. Bonds and t-bills with. Can anyone say Currency Crash? Wal-Mart grossed $256 Billion in 2004. It has become the model of a nationally detached company, being able to set it's own priorities regardless of any outside commentary about policy. And though I have not seen its tax sheet, I can only speculate.

The wall was worn down over years, before it ever had a hammer put to it. If policy continues the way it has, eventually we will be unable to pay out the interest on our debts, defaulting, thus signaling the decline of our once dominant rule

Now, onto the TEENAGE SEX MAP!