I don’t give a fuck

Someone suggested I might be suffering from a little Post Traumatic Stress… If that explains why I’m going out of my mind crazy staring at my busted up bike out in the garage, then maybe so. I feel like guzzling liquor right out the bottle and smashing things into little tiny pieces.

I can’t sleep because I’m too awake at night and I can’t wake up in the morning because I’m too tired. It’s either feast or famine ’round here lately.

Yo. Who wants to see what my ass looks like?

Oh my God…

Jackass took this pic while we were out riding on Sunday, on my second birthday. Now I’ve got two good excuses to get loaded every year.

Like I need an excuse.

Link dump:

[Hei Hei for sale] ebay.com
[Ron Paul makes sense] breitbart.tv
[news] opednews.com
[good times] posttypography.com/hahafooledyou
[blogness] blogspot.com
[new shop] evergreenwheelsnthings.blogspot.com
[stoner bike innovarion] theanthills.com
[harden the fuck up] youtube.com
[Here's one to think about] bushflash.com

Email:

From: Froboy
Subject: The Unfortunate
As I walked down the busy footpath, knowing I was late for an important meeting, my eye fell upon one of those unfortunate, homeless vagabonds that are found in every city these days.

Wearing what can only be describes as rags, carrying every worldly possession in two plastic bags, my heart was touched by this persons condition.

Some people turned to stare. Others quickly looked away as if the sight would somehow contaminate them.

The Unfortunate

Now that is unfortunate. And Viva Las Vegas at the same time. Go figure.

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About big jonny

The man, the legend. The guy who started it all back in the Year of Our Lord Beer, 2000, with a couple of pages worth of idiotic ranting hardcoded on some random porn site that would host anything you uploaded, a book called HTML for Dummies (which was completely appropriate), a bad attitude (which hasn’t much changed), and a Dell desktop running Win95 with 64 mgs of ram and a six gig hard drive. Those were the days. Then he went to law school. Go figure. Flagstaff, Arizona, USA

11 thoughts on “I don’t give a fuck

  1. I’d be surprised if you didn’t have post traumatic stress. I was held up at gunpoint when I worked in a Post Office, maybe 9 years ago, and it still fills me with the rage when it comes back.

    Lots of cycling helps, anything to get the adrenalin going in a controlled way, rather than the random anxiety attacks I was getting for a while. In fact, I should probably thank the guy who held me up, without him I’d never have got into cycling in the first place…

    …maybe thats a step too far. I still wish I’d beaten him with my work stool. He only had a blank firer it turned out. He could have used it as the starting gun for my assault. :dream:

  2. I’m sure I have PTSD from getting hit. I’d be surprised if you didn’t. Picking up my bike (well what was left of it) was a surreal experience, and it wierded me out for a while.

    mmmm, stripper crack…

  3. I didnt know a crack problem could be that good, it is probably the one type of crack fiend i would give some hard earned one dollar bills to, at least hoping she can take the clothes off and purchase something a tad more distasteful

  4. Hey, you don’t look like a pear at all! Don’t go gettin’ bulimic or nuthin’.
    PTSD is definitely a possibility. Fortunately riding is good therapy. Just stay on the dirt for a while – the trees don’t run you down.

  5. You don’t get hit like that without picking-up some PTSD symptoms down the road. It’s completely natural.

    Fortunately, the Army now recognizes PTSD and takes it seriously (in the field). Unfortunately, they’ve been unscrupulously steering many PTSD victims towards “psych discharges” and cheating them out of continued VA benefits down the road. All to save fucking money. Bastards.

  6. Jonny

    PTSD plays a negative role in sleep stages, as does alcohol intake.

    I hope you can litigate the drunk-driving basturd for his last penny using PTSD, but money only goes so far in quality of life issues. A good nights sleep is as priceless as a healthy relationship with ETOH.

    My relationship today is with 40 easy road miles, its 90 humid degrees in Ohio, and Sierra Nevada’s Summerfest.