Unleash your anger only your hatred can destroy me

'Can I get two mega-millions and two ruby reds please.' Frank glared viciously at the man at the counter. So intensely that the cashier could feel the intensity of his hatred. She quickly grabbed the tickets the man wanted and put him on his way. 'Thank you.' the man said as he exited the store. Frank walked up to the counter feeling intense loathing as he did so. 'Can I just get a pack of the orange zig zags.' The cashier understood and went over to extract them. She was a young woman maybe about 25 and she had a large ass and huge breasts to go along. Frank observed this as she turned around. They seemed to be everywhere to him, in stores at work everywhere. They mocked him as he went about his daily routine. It was as if there was a massive joke being played and he felt like the butt of it. Frank produced a five and handed it over to the cashier. She smiled as he handed it over and for a second he felt a spark, a vibe that he did not often feel. 'Thank you.' He said as she handed over the change and he quickly exited the store. Fuck frank thought. I should have tried to talk to her. But what would I say. That was the question he always would ask what indeed should I say. How do I approach strange women that I don't know. It was a vexing question that seemed to have no answer it was like the big bang theory or something out of science fiction. Difficult to fathom. Frank had asked a few people about it before and the answers were all pretty much the same. Have confidence, ask them questions, and so on. Still stranger was that some of the answers were different and so it was that the female species eluded him. He didn't want to think about them but still he did. There soft bodies and good smell and intense allure. To just lie next to someone and wake up next to them. Frank missed it so much yet he was not quite sure how to remedy the situation. He got into his car and produced a bag. Frank broke up the bud and began to break it up over the rolling paper, well its a start he thought.

Got to get over the hump

Been reading this awesome book called The first family about the first Mafia boss and family in the US. Its a fascinating read both in its subject matter and how the author sets the historical context for all the events he describes. For example the tenements in New York and how there would be these large immigrant families all living in one small apartment. This was before a lot of building codes were in effect and thus the tenements were packed. At the turn of the century some of these neighborhoods in New york had a high population density than Bombay. Also he describes how the Mafia came about from its origins in Sicily which had been plagued by a succession of foreign rulers which in turn bred a disdain for authority. The mafia thrived in this setting which in also led them to gain such a foothold in America. Whats interesting for me is as I read more about these guys is really what reprehensible characters they really are. While I do find aspects of they're lifestyle glamorous I can't deny their horrible nature. In Naples for example the Camorra controls the garbage collectors and recently something happened where they went on strike or something and the garbage has been piling up all over the city. In facts its gotten so bad that Italy has had to send their trash over to Germany to incinerate it. Because of the Mafia's control of the construction unions in New York all of the construction and public works costs went up because of the Mafias inflated prices on the projects. Also the overall cost of living in New york went up because of mafia price gouging. Talk about a drain on society. Still I cannot look away.

The dismal tide

So many horrible jackoff's. And so little time. How I hate them all so much and with such vitriol it can be scarcely understood. I literally feel like no one has any use for me. That I am a mere pawn for their common amusement of little to no merit.

The jerk store called they're running out of you!

The old storefront with the brick facade looked hardly like anything that would be noticeable to the passerby. Its windows were small and dim and above the lone door was a sign that read:members only. Louie walked into the dark club with a mixture of anticipation and dread. He had just lost 3 g's on a bet and had to pay his bookie back by Friday. The anticipation came mainly from the act of asking Pasquale for the money. He already owed money to several bookies across town and a few loansharks. Still Pasquale had always been a kind and generous person Louie knew as much as a capo could be, and he would likely concede. Pasquale was known by most of his associates as Pat but Louie had never been able to call him that. He had been born in the old country and raised speaking Italian and it never quite seemed natural to him. As Louie walked in the smell of cigarettes and stale air engulfed him. There were a few characters milling about, most he recognized some he had never seen before, 'Hey Sal.' Louie said to a familiar face at the bar. 'Louie how are ya?' Louie walked up to the bar embracing Sal. 'The big man around?' Louie asked with a twinge of fear in his voice. 'He's taking care of some business in the back, he'll be with you in a little bit.' Sal walked towards the back room to get him. Louie asked the bartender for a beer, it was 11am but he felt like he needed something to calm his nerves.
The tender placed the beer in front of him and he took a quick swig. The cold hops felt good to him as he they washed down his throat. Pasquale sauntered out of the backroom towards the bar. He already knew why Louie was here and was dreading the moment. Louie had been making bad deals across town and certain things were going to have to be done about it. 'Hey Pasquale.' Louie said as Pasquale approached the bar. 'Hey Louie let me guess you need some money.' His tone was somewhat hostile and Louie was taken aback. 'Hey Pasquale I just.. 'Can it Louie i've heard it all. You were late paying me back the last time and I had to track you down. Don't make me have to do that again.' Louie stuttered. 'I promise I just need 4 g's.' Pasquale sighed and pulled out his billfold. He extracted the bills and handed them over. Louie took the bills and quickly finished his beer, the air had become hostile he could tell. As he walked out into the sunlight the glare enveloped him. He got the extra thousand because he had a good lead on a horse tonight, he could earn back what he owed an than some. Pasquale sighed as Louie walked out the door. 'Its a shame.' He said to Sal. 'What the shame he's a fuckin degenerate gambler.' Pasquale felt bad giving him the money. Louie was a hit waiting to happen and he knew it. Still it was his type that kept him in business. Those constantly in debt, who always needed some money. Still it was the way things worked in their life.

I haven't seen you in a while and i'm breaking your balls!

Bad times my friends. Past three days have all been shit. Got robbed at gunpoint one day next day have a party house gets messed up my moms all pissed. Fuck. Just feels like things are on a downward spiral with little hope of redemption. I remember in the fog of war Robert MacNamara was talking about working in the office of statistical control in the air force. They looked at all the records of the bombing missions and they found a high percentage of the missions were aborted. So they looked at it and finally figured out that it was all bullshit. They knew that not alot of them were going to go down but a decent amount so they made up reasons not to go. So the commander Curtis Lemay told them that he would go on all the missions himself and the whole crew would go or they would be court martialed so it stopped. I just found that hilarious that even in the airforce people would call out and not go. Says something about the human character.