Who Are We? ©

Who am I?
I don’t know.
Does anyone really know we are?
Who are you?
Do you really know?

We live by a set of views.
Not rules.
We call them rules but in reality it’s what we want to see or at least the majority of the population.

I see myself like this…
You see me as that…
My mother sees me in dress pants 7 days a week, which is never going to happen.

If people went to your place of work and asked those there who you were, would what their description of you match the ones given by your best friends and those of your immediate family or would they all be different?
If they’re all different, who the fuck are we?

If we follow trends, not only in fashion but in thought as they come up does that not also effect who we are?
We blend social values along with religion and conscious into one big shake then drunk it all down to drown in.
It’s no wonder most of us walk around in a daze.

I like to think I am who I am for the most part.
I have been called a rebel by some but I don’t see that.
If I don’t agree with something I don’t think I am a rebel.
I just don’t agree.
I don’t want to bring the house down but don’t push it either.

I’m watching TV the other day and there is this show where two people, a man and a woman take a person, usually a woman, then tell her she has no taste and doesn’t know how to dress herself.
After being humiliated on TV they toss her clothes out and teach her how she should dress then make her buy clothes they think she would be suited to wear.
I’m not saying she didn’t look nice in the new clothes because she did but is it who she is or is this the way she should look as perceived by the times.

By the time I was sixteen I knew who I was and what I liked.
Yeah I did the peacock thing in the 70s but that was on the weekends only, the rest of the time I was who I was.
It’s who I was comfortable being with not what I should be like.

Today my mother looked at me and said, you’re getting older you should dress differently.
What?!
What’s wrong with how I dress?
This is who I am.
She says I look like a gangster.
This is my comfort zone.
Black leather jacket, jean jacket, jeans and my black Nikes.
At home it’s my joggies and hoodie
If I want to wear socks with my sandals I will.
My closet is full of dress clothes and all sorts of facade coverings we have been made to think is required dress.

I ask her how should I dress?
She says like my father.
I look over and he’s stretched out on his lazy boy wearing beige wool pants pulled all the way up to his armpits with a light blue shirt that was tucked up to his chest.
Looks like an old Steve Urkel.
I don’t think so.

In many ways I am lucky to have some of the friends I have.
It’s an eclectic bunch.
Some of them wear suits.
One dresses like a wizard.
Most look like bikers.
I don’t think it’s the generation I come from because I see pockets of young people today being who they want to be instead of conforming to the majority.

It’s been said that if you go with the flow life is much easier but going with the flow is being in the same rut as everyone else.
I think a person’s individuality defines who he or she is.

If you sit back and think of it, the people you remember most were the ones who didn’t conform to the whole.
I’m not saying you have to act and dress like a clown so you will be remembered, most likely as the nut the cops drag off to the loony bin

When you walk down the sidewalk you always walk on the right.
Why?
You ever see all those people walking into lampposts or parking meters and you think to yourself, “Must be a drunk or stoned”.
Nope, left handed people trying to go with the flow.

Most people at work dress like everyone else.
In many cases its part of the job.
It’s not a choice.
You’re just being assimilated into someone else’s perception of how they want you to be.

I go into a bar and I see people still in their work clothes.
Still wearing the uniform of who they are not and will go home after to undress and go to bed only to dress the same way in the morning.

Who are we if we never get to be who we are?
I’m not going to dress like my father.
It might work for him but not me.
If I look like a gangster then that’s someone else’s perception.
I dress according to what pleases me.

So who are you?
Does anyone really know?

Have a nice weekend

Walker

Faggots Or Nothing ©

See, what did I tell you?
They are trying to take away what rights we have.

I love history.
I have read about almost everything and I still find bits of history to grab my attention.
My favorite bits is where people fight for what is right and for most, that’s the right to be free, think free and freedom of speech.

In the beginning there was “One Person”.
That person was free to live as he/she wished but there was a problem.
In order to have the right to be free you have to fight to keep it.
Let’s face it, I don’t care who you are, you can’t win if you’re alone so we banded into families and then tribes to counter those who would want to take away our rights to our freedoms.

As we grew we became regions and later countries under a banner of constitutions spelling out our rights.
The reasons we have joined this large family.

Over the centuries amendments are put in place to help our rights adjust to the times as they evolve.
These amendments are to help the future move smoothly and not to change the past.
How do you change history?
You can’t.
How do you hide the past?
With lies and deceit?
Should we hide it because that’s not how we are thinking right now?
There are people out there stealing a piece of my past and yours by rewriting it because they are offended by our history and have found idiot bureaucrats to listen to them.

History is a record of our evolution.
We go back in history to analyze what we did to better ourselves to get to the present but if we go back now and change what we done in the past to get here, what will those in the future think when they visit my past and see what these idiots did today to change my past?
That’s not who we were.
It’s a fucken lie.

Here in Canada, the CRTC, the Canadian Radio-television and Telecommunications Commission has banned the song “Money for nothing” by Dire Straits because it has the word “faggot” in it.
"See the little faggot with the earring and the makeup”, it's a lyric in a song.
It’s a portrayal of a blue collar worker’s description of how hard he has to work for a little money while some guy with a guitar, dresses like a flaming “Fag” (which by the way in not a banned word and could be used in the song) makes millions.

Flaming fag is an accepted term in gay lifestyle.
What’s the fucken problem?
There is none except for a very small few individuals (One woman) who some how got heard by a fucken moron who is easily dragged around by the fucken nose.

They think that by banning “Faggot” from the airwaves is a good thing?
They just opened a huge can of worms.
They just increased the power of that word by giving it more weight that it deserves.
Shit like this only throws fuel on hate.

You know, we work hard to accept people for who they are and leave them to their own vices and devices.
It’s part of our freedoms.
It’s what the majority of us want.
We want to express our opinions and if they change then we have to adjust for it but you don’t go back twenty five fucken years and change something to suit you today.
What are you, fucken stupid?
You can’t change history like that.
It’s done accept it for what it is, a piece of art that you don’t like so don’t go running around with your little chisel and try to knock off the offending pecker.

You know, when I was a kid I thought faggots were a pack of cigarettes.
Well come on, a fag was a smoke then gay people showed up and stole the word for their own use.
Now I am scared to bum a fag without worrying about getting it in the ass.
HA HA HA!!!
Yeah, yeah I know, you can email me hate mail I don’t care.

I emailed a gay friend of mine today and asked what she thought and her reply was:
“HA HA HA, stupid FAGGOTS”.
There are a lot of songs out there that are more offending than this, I just think the that woman don’t like Dire Straits.
Maybe if they changed faggots to dykes she will feel better?
Who knows.

It‘s not only just this song, down in the States they are redoing Mark Twain's "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn" and "The Adventures of Tom Sawyer" and changing the word “Nigger” to slave.
Hello…?
Did you ask Mark if that was OK?
I mean the man wrote the books the way he wanted to and for generations this is what we read so who are you to put words in another mans mouth.
These books express the times in Mark Twain’s life.
Who the hell are you to decide to make it look different.
You trying to hide the truth?
Back them a black person was a nigger.
Today he is an African American.
He is an African American because some nigger busted his fucken ass and in many cases died to earn the right for his children and those after them to be free African Americas.

Changing history like this spits on their efforts and the talent of a man who saw things as they were not as you wish they were today.
You can’t run from the past if it’s the truth.
Teaching our kids lies doesn’t make us better it makes them stupid and bound to make the same mistakes again.

It’s a shame we even take peoples color into consideration when we first see them.
It appalls me to see people judged because of how they think.
I don’t care who you are, what you like, what you believe in.
I don’t care where you come from or how you choose to live as long as I get to live how I wish too.
You have the same rights as I do and if they say otherwise I will go down there with you and demand why we are not equal.

This is how we are supposed to live in this country according to the constitution and charter or rights that we have drafted.
Rights that many people have struggled to get for us.
All we have to do is hold on to them and make sure they are NOT taken away from us by stupid people even if they think it’s the right thing to do.
.
What’s next, ban the words: God, Free, Love, and replace them with hunger, hate and taxes.
Hunger will bless you
Hate will love you
And taxes will free you from your money

Have a nice day

Walker

Nuts ©

It’s a crazy, crazy world and I am stuck in the middle of it.

My daughter’s walking down the street listening to her Ipod with one earpiece hanging and the other one in her ear.
Her eyes constantly scanning around at any person walking down the street, ready to jump and run if they made any sudden moves.

It seems there is this guy out there in this city who is stalking women in their 20’s that are walking down the street listening to their MP3 players.
As the unsuspecting woman walks down the street listening to the latest Lady Gaga hit, he runs up behind her and whacks her in the head with a hammer then runs off.
He doesn’t steal nothing, or sexually assault them.
He just whacks them over the head and runs away.

What the fuck is that?
A human with rabies and instead of water that makes him go crazy it’s young women listening to music?
And this isn’t an isolated incident.
He’s a serial whacker.
I thought this shit only happened in figure skating competitions.
For three days in a row this guy, in broad daylight right down town took a weapon out and clobbered a chick and got away.

Three days and the cops don’t get this guy.
I go downtown once every 4 months or so and I get a fucken ticket.
They find me alright, so why can’t they find him?

You spend a good part of your life worrying your kids with all the murders and rapists out there and not we have nuts running around playing Maxwell’s silver hammer goes ding dong on your noggin.
Fucken world is becoming a damn asylum.

We do our best to protect our kids.
Why shouldn’t we, they are part of us.
Our flesh and blood.
The nine months the poor mother had to carry around that ten-pound sperm growing between her legs.

The horror of giving birth.
I know I was there.
The blood and umbilical cord lashing out wrapping itself around the pretty blonde nurse’s throat then squeezing until her bra popped open exposing her big tits.
Yup, only my kid pops out hungry and doesn’t care whose food she’s eating.

All the diapers and clothes.
Baby furniture and fuck, shit load of stuff.
Thousands of dollars of stuff you buy to keep you offspring healthy and safe.
But it’s not really your offspring.
Well that’s what some people are trying to do now.
They are saying your don’t own your kids.
This all came about from spankings.

You see you are not allowed to spank your kids anymore because that assault and you can go to jail for that.
Now using the assault thing they are trying to take title away of your kids.
So if we don’t own our kids then who does because I have one hell of a fucken bill for them.
Oh, some one owes me a couple of million bucks at least.
I won’t even try to add up what you owe me for the heartache alone.

I don’t believe in corporal punishment.
I never spanked my kids but if some whack their kids in the butt to get it's attention I don’t see nothing wrong with it.
I don’t think you should pull out a bull whip and carve up the little bastard for playing tic tac toe with the Ginsu knife on the brand new couch but a swat on the ass so say look what you did.
You always start in the middle you little fucker.

Your kid breaks a window and the cops are hauling your ass off to pay for it but if you spank him after, you go to jail because, well, you just can’t go around spanking someone else’s kid right?

Should move down to Texas, I think you’re allowed to shoot your kids there?
My father never spanked me.
He beat the fuck out of me with whatever he could get his hands on.
In the beginning it used to be easy for me because I was young and naïve.

He’d go, “Hey Walker, be a good little boy and go get me my belt from the bedroom”, Like a good little boy I ran off to get him the belt and when I gave it to him he’d beat the shit out of me for something I did hours earlier.
After one or two more times of sending me into the bedroom to get his belt I got smart and refused to go.
He’d give me an angry look and say” Fine, go to the kitchen and bring me the broom”.
Off I would run.
By the time I hit sixteen I had learned to think on my own and when he said, ”Walker, go get me the gun from the closet”, I moved.

Speaking of Texas, did you hear some schools down there are giving tickets to students?
Really.
Fuck I laughed my ass off until I kept on reading.
I thought it was a joke but no, it’s not.
I mean 6 year old's are getting tickets for not behaving.
WTF is that
Someone has been smoking the peyote “Wink” “Wink”.
Imagine you sitting at home and your six year old comes home and hands you a ticket for 80 bucks because he had a temper tantrum.
Heaven forbid if the kid shits his pants.
Probably get the death penalty and with their current governor, having the sentence commuted to 4 years in time out would be slim to none.

Sounds like a cash grab to me but the ramification could be bad.
I mean this could actually land some kids in juvenile court and be part of their permanent record.
Can you imagine an eight year old with three strikes already?

Who thinks this shit up?
I thought that with time the human race would be getting smarter not dumber.

The world’s gone nuts and we are stuck in the middle of it.

My heart cried today as I watched Christina Taylor Green’s casket being carried to the Hearst.
Born on 9/11 amidst a time of blood, smoke and carnage.
A Phoenix rising out of the ashes to mark a new beginning for her and her family only to be silenced by a fucken nut who will live longer in life and in infamy because of his actions.
I don’t know his name and I refuse to look it up.
I only want to remember the name, Christina Taylor Green.
She is and always be important
The little girl who marked a new beginning, yesterday and today.

I will never relinquish my rights to my kids and if we let the state do something like that then we are all fucked.
They will own your stones the second you are born.

Have a nice day

Walker

Twitchy ©

So today after many years of constant phone calls I succumbed and accepted a date.
I know, I know, these one night stands lead to nothing more than being a pain in the ass but I just can’t take the fucken phone calls no more.
I mean the phoning and begging.
Why?
Why should I when I know that you just want to fuck me for money?

I don’t know why. I was bored I guess so I said, yeah okay just name the time and place and off I went today.
Well, first I showered and shaved, a little chocolate flavored antiperspirant.
There’s nothing sexier than a fifty-year-old Greek who smells like a Mars bar.

I look at my watch….oh yeah Inia got me this cool watch for Christmas.
It’s one of those ECO watches that runs on sunlight and movement.
None of us know how to use it of course so we just site there pushing buttons to see if we can make it move.
It tells time but it has been running out of juice because we never really let it charge up to capacity and when I looked at it again today it was stopped at 8pm so I took it off and all day was strapped to my bearded dragon and it basked under the UV light for eight hours and when it went out I wrapped it around Inia's vibrator for the night.
Should be fully charged by morning.

Anyway, I took off to my date getting there ten minutes early.
To early it seems because the door was still locked.
She said to be there at 1:15 and she wasn’t kidding.
That’s when she opened the door.
I slipped in and we walked across the room to large leather couch where she asked me to rest while she got me something to drink.

I sank back into the couch and as I sat there this tall black woman wearing a black dress walked up to me and smiled.
She had a big set of tits on her and a butt begging to be slapped and from the look on her face she was asking.
I smiled back and wondered where the other one was with my drink.

I know body language and the way her thighs were contracting under that tight dress to make her pussy twitch the way it was made me wish I hadn’t asked for only water when a drink was offered.

The other woman came in and told the black woman I wasn’t her client today.
She frowned at the news and walked away but not before giving me one last pussy twitch.
The first one asked me to follow her to the next room I told her I would be right with her giving me a few seconds more to relax my pants.

I carefully stood up and followed her to the next room where she introduced me to this young guy and she told me that he would be taking care of me today and left us alone to get acquainted.

He’s about thirty, looked like he was in decent shape.
I asked him how long he was doing this and he said he had been there for a year and liked it.
Paid the bills.

He asked me what I was interested in and I told him everything and anything that caught my eye.
Just then I looked out of the room to the adjacent one and there was that same black woman staring at me still twitching her.
No wonder she had a booty on her with all that twitching going on.
I don’t know if she was getting wet just looking ate me or was craving a Mars bar.

I pulled my eyes away from her and Fred; we’ll call the guy Fred.
Or Bill.
He looked like a Paul though.
Barney.
We’ll call him Barney.
So Barney tells me he was going to take me to the media room to watch a movie first so off we went to the media room where there were already a half dozen other people along with another hostess.

We all sat in the front row.
There was only one row of chairs.
For forty-five minutes we watched a movie about the benefits of being there and how happy we will be by the time we leave.
The hostess after the movie asked if we had any questions.
No one did.
Almost all of us were stunned for one reason or another.

She talked to us for another thirty minutes before she led us back out to our escorts who were waiting just outside the door.
Barney just happened to be standing next to the Black woman; we’ll call her ummmm Thunder Thighs.
Barney waved me over; Thunder Thighs twitched in delight.

I shook my head and slowly walked over doing my best not to look in her direction.
He took me back to the room we were in and pulled out a stack of papers and laid them in front of me.
There was a lost of questions on them which he preceded to ask.

“So how did you hear about this place”?
“Ah well, for the last five years you have been calling and harassing me to come”.
.”So you didn’t see the commercial on TV”?
“Would it matter, this is by invite only”?
“Do you think you will become a member today”.
“I would like to think about it first”.
“You can’t, you have to decide now and if you decline you will never be asked to come back or will you be accepting, ever”
“ I don’t make rash decisions like that without thinking about them first unless someone has a gun pointed at my head and all you got is that pen in your hand and a Twitching Black woman outside that door and its not even the seventy dollar a year fee”.
“It’s not seventy a year. it’s seventy a month”.
“Say what”?!
“It’s seventy a month for the first three years and then it goes up to a hundred up to three hundred depending on what type of member you want to be”.
“Three hundred a month”!!!!!!
“Thunder Thighs better be able to spin like a helicopter for that”.
“And what do I get for paying that money”?
“The opportunity to do business with us and save lots of money”
“Save what money, I have to pay you just to be able to come here I am loosing already”.
“But when you shop you save money”.
“How”?
“Well, say you want to buy a couch like this one here”.
“The price is $4000, we can get it for you from the same manufacturer for $2800 or these blinds that cost $5000, we can get them for you for $2200”.

I look around the room and let my mind soak this in.
$4000 for a couch, $5000 for blinds.
Who the fuck buys $5000 blinds?
A $4000 microfibre couch.

“You know Barney, I wouldn’t pay $2200 for that couch and the blinds, don’t let me get started on that”.

“You charge shipping for anything you buy and you pay a monthly membership fee”.
“The only way you can make this work is if you are constantly buying stuff because if I save $500 on a TV and the TV is the only thing I buy for the year with the membership fees I would actually be loosing money”.

Barney sat there looking at me with this look on his face you get when you get caught with your hand in the cookie jar.
They say you will save because the big box stores have an overhead they have to pay for and they don’t which isn’t true.
They have to pay Barney, the other staff and the twitchy woman.
This was a big building so this had to cost them.
Where does this all come from.
We pay for it.

They showed us some over inflated products and them compared their prices to it which I must say were a lot lower but BUT I could get a better deal if I shopped around and save the membership fees.

“Barney, I don’t think this is for me”.
“ I respect that”, he said.
“I’ll show you out the door but before you go you can scratch ticket you got for coming here and see if you won anything”.

Everyone before me had gotten a “sorry” so I wasn’t expecting anything and used a key to scratch the paint away to reveal a number which he took to the reception area and checked it against a list of prizes there.
He looked at my number them back to the list and back to me>
”You won $500”.
“Really”?
“Yeah, the odds of that happening are 30,000-1”.
“Cool,.... I’m still not joining”.
I took my certificate for $500 bucks and walked out the door to the car.
As I drove off I looked back and I swear I saw Thunder Thighs pressed up against the front door still twitching.

Have a nice day, I did

Walker

Happy New Year ©

It’s what?
2011
Ah man, just when I finally got used to writing 2010 I got to remember to make it 2011 now when I am writing down the date on almost everything you have to sign now a days.

First off

Happy New Year to everyone out there.
I hope you all had a fantastic time.
I know I haven’t been around but I actually, haven’t been around.

So, how were your holidays?
Mine………….were typically Walkerish.
It doesn’t matter where the fuck I go something will happen.
It’s the way it is.
It’s not like I look for weird shit to happen.
It just does.

This year I started the New Year in the States and D2 came along for the ride as long as she could take one of my laptops along to do some of her homework while we were in New York.
She says homework me thinks she wanted to keep in touch with her boyfriend besides I could use it to do a little blogging myself.
.
The problem is when I did go use it it was either jammed up with her homework and took forever to load or hung like an elephant with a palm tree rammed up its butt.
I couldn’t understand what the fuck was happening.
It’s one of my best and most reliable laptops.
I mean I never really used it but when I bought it off some friend of a friend for practically nothing because it was supposedly broken it was one of the best units out there.

After figuring out what was wrong I cleaned it up the best I could and put it away for a spare when and if it ever came up that I needed a good computer.
So to see it running like a dieing dog it puzzled me.
Then it said it was running out of space.
WTF?
I know it only has 30 gigs but there was nothing really on it but windows XP and MS Office so there should have been heaps of space so what the hell was D2 loading to fill up the rest?
I call her over to find out.

She comes over and I ask her what she was downloading and she says some Adobe software to use for a school project, something to do with making a movie.
I look at the download and its one gig.
ONE GIG!!!
Fuck, why is everything so damn big?
But still, it wasn’t enough to fill the rest of the hard drive so I went in to look for what was one there.

I open up documents and look at the folder in there.
By passing the cursor over each one it tells me how big it is and the bigger the more I want to know why.
D2 was sitting right there next to me as Inia was five feet away in the kitchen.
There’s this one folder called Home that was fifteen gigs.
I asked D2 what was in that file and she said she didn’t know.
So I opened it to see what was in there and as it sprung open we looked and both of us sat straight up.

I look at her, “What kind of fucken movies are you making”?
“OMG, that’s not mine I don’t use that folder I use the Walker folder”!!!!!!!
“What the fuck do you mean you only use the Walker, you are the only one that has been using this computer since I got it”.
"What the hell have you been downloading”?

Inside the folder were a bunch of movies.
One was gay porn with two black guys screwing on the thumbnail.
The one next to it was a thumbnail showing a dog fucking some ugly fat broad.
I quickly closed the folder and looked at her shocked face.

“Well, explain this”?
“I told you it’s not mine”.
“Maybe it’s your, it is you computer”.
“WTF DO YOU MEAN IT’S MINE”!!!!!!!
"Well it is your computer".
Inia is in the living room rolling around the floor in laughter.

I told D2 to go sit on the other side while I took care of the file.
I looked into the properties and it showed that it was created five years ago well before I had gotten it so I must have missed that file when I was cleaning it up thinking it might have been part of the windows because of its name.

Later it was all funny thinking about it but at the time, I think we were both more shocked than laughing.
Well I am back home now.
Inia’s at work and all the kids at school and me, just sitting here quietly typing this as I watch the laptop format.
Fuck that, I’m not taking any more chances and wait when I see they guy I bought this from.

Have a nice day

Walker