In a sacred manner I live my horses are many

When he had his first taste of the firewater he had not taken to it. It seemed to burn his whole throat as it went down and he had very nearly spat it out. The trader at the post had given it to them in exchange for some robes and a few others goods. Still after the initial burn had began to see why people seemed to go crazy for it. It made them all feel warm inside. Indeed after a few more swigs from the bottle they had all danced and sang and had a good time generally. Had he known where the path of alcohol would lead him he would not have partaken in that first drop. Still he had not seen for several years the dark things the firewater led to. How it caused brothers to fight against each other, how it broke up families how it destroyed lives. By the time he had seen and recognized this he was already addicted himself and he understood why the traders and other white men pushed it on his people so much. Because it placated them, made them fight among themselves, made them stupid. He never thought it would come to this though. That they would all be rounded up unto barren, meager plots of land like animals. That a great majority of them would be killed off by bullet and bayonet, disease, and starvation. The whiskey seemed to make him forget about all that. It seemed to make it go away, if only temporarily. A brief respite in an existence which had long since lost its luster. Sometimes he wished the soldiers had killed him so that he had not become what he was now. A weak pathetic old man living off scant rations and scrounging every last cent for a drink. He had been a warrior in his youth, a fighter, a great hunter and provider. He had the respect and esteem of his tribe and was revered by all. Now he was nothing. He was someone the other old ones used as an example of what not to become. He was a cauldron of shame, self loathing, and despair. Yes it would have been better to have been killed, with honor.

Chain of fools

Alcohol is the father of bad ideas. All bad ideas, and by bad ideas I don't mean going to the grocery store while its too busy, but truly bad ideas evolve from alcohol. Bad ideas as in lets get in this car and drive even though I can barely see anything, or lets pick a fight with this huge dude. Bad ideas which end up having extreme consequences. It seems concieveable that the planners of the Vietnam war were drunk, or at least under enormous pressure. To commit such manpower and treasure to a war being fought half a world away seems to ludicrous when thought of with a sane mind. It is that same impulse that compels you to call your ex at 3 oh clock in the morning and find out how shes doing and profess your love to her. The same impulse that makes you say stupid things and later regret them. The same impulse that compells people to do all manner of stupid things.

The man of the hour has an air of great power the dudes have envied him for so long

I hate how these days every fucking thing has to be online. Has to be accessed through some kind of username and password which you usually forget right away. Why can't some things just be flesh and blood and paper and have you speak to a real person. Like at my school to get my grades and access all this stuff I have to log in to some complex system with a random username and a password I usually forget. Can there not be a better way. I suppose in some ways they find it more efficient then having to house tomes and tomes of records and files on people but by golly its frustarating.

You got me where you want me I ain't nothing but your fool

Whats up you crazy blog. I want a girl. A very good girlie. A very good big girlie with a very big butt and and very big tits who is very cute. A godess that I can worship every day of every hour. To tell her she is my very favorite girlie. God I love all of them those girlies. They are all so very cute and I love them all.

This is thriller thriller night

You can't deny the props of the genius's. Some people deride Michael Jackson for his allegations of child molestation. Still I think first of all none of this was proven and also it does not in any way diminish the amazing contribution he has made to our collective pop culture. Thriller for gods sake fucking genius. Bob marley cheated on his wife several times does that diminish his significance as a musical figure I do not think so. I think you cannot deny the props to those that have toiled and put in work and earned the props they have. No matter what the personal misgivings they may have had they have still contributed vastly more to society then most of us have. They have given us joy and peace and respite in bad times. Hope and joy in others. In short they have given some of us life.