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Below are the 4 most recent journal entries recorded in white trash's LiveJournal:

Friday, June 13th, 2008
4:24 am
MY throne.

I have a chair. It isn't a great chair, it's a green plastic, rusty rocker'd, half-painted-rustoleum-black piece of shit. It's home for the past eight years or so was my front porch, the key here is  EIGHT YEARS...eight years of unmolested rocking pleasure, it's seen it's way thru many BBQ's...drunken revels, and other sundry ghetto games.

Two weeks ago, I cam home to find my fuckin chair GONE...yes, GONE. Eight years of  uninterrupted, uncoveted bliss...and some fuck-knob took it upon themself to steal the bitch! After an hour or so of rantng, the odd " When I find the fucker who took it Hiroshima and Nagasaki will look like a 2 year old's temper tantrum" I calmed down and tried to forget about it.

Yesterday, on their way home from a friends house, my kids found my chair....it was across the project we live in, sitting on some fuckers porch like it was HIS chair. I waited, I planned...I was going to attempt a midnight strike...sneaking thru the neighborhood like a fat, ghetto ninja..it was going to be legendary...I imagined fighting off fat, balding chair-snatching bastards left and right...and then - my wife awoke from her nap, was told of the find and promptly said " Get yer shoes on were getting that fucker back"...so off we went...she strode across the manor like a colossus, bitching all the while...we came upon the chair. I snatched it, placed it above my head and we strode home, triumphant...whereupon arriving, my wife told the oldest child " Get a bike chain from the basement - this fucer's staying RIGHT FUCKIN HERE!"...it was summarily chained to the porch post - we await retribution with bated breath.....bring it the fuck on chair snatchers, next time..it's your fuckin roses!!

Wednesday, May 3rd, 2006
4:51 pm
BBQ time...
Nothing warms the cold cockles of a white trash man's heart quite like the smell of charcoal and lighter fluid on a warm spring day. You can always tell when you've spied a white trash BBQ....the man grilling will be wearing two week old jeans and the holiest t-shirt he owns, and brandishing the spatula like a clayborne at people. He will be shouting the secrets of his meat prowess to anyone who will listen. You will hear strains of of "But butterbuns......you HAVE to use most of the can of lighter fluid or it just doesn't taste like uncle bob's burgerssssss"....or "what do you mean the charcoal pile resembles Mt. Fuji??? I only used four bags!!!

Another way to recognise a white trash BBQ is by scoping out the envioronment. White trash cookouts consist of digging a pit into the ground and throwing some used grill like top over the hole...(the grill like top either filched from a dumpster diving jaunt, or conveninetly "borrowed" from somebody who obviously doesn't know you very well, and doesn't know that you damn well won't be returning it)....there will be empty Budweiser cans strewn liberally around five by five space that comprises the makeshift outdoor kitchen cooking area. You will hear strains of Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band in the background, and the cries of half a dozen water-head babies. Their overweight and underemployed mama's will be milling in the background, hitting on their toothless first cousins, and trying to prevent their daisy duke shorts from disappearing on a permanent basis from between their cottage cheese laden ass and thighs. Half the fathers will be absent, as everyone knows warm weather is the season for wifebeating in public, therefore upping the chances of you getting caught and arrested. The ones that are there will be fending off blows from granny's cast iron skillet, as they try their luck at purloining her new toy, the Scooter. Mama will be in the trailer next door, trying to have a quiet men and a trows with the new couple that just moved in.

Guess I gotta wrap this up rather quick, the cops just busted i....errrrrrrr......I mean, somebody's at the door......we'll finish this up in my next segment...till then....keep trucking and we'll keep the glow of the bug zapper on for ya'll....

Current Mood: apathetic
Thursday, March 30th, 2006
2:15 am
Blow it loud, blow it proud
Women and flatulence
Attention women: until your farts start
smelling like cinnamon buns, quit bitching.

I'm tired of women bitching when guys fart. Farting around a woman is like listening to a radio permanently stuck on the wailing bitch station: "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU FARTED." Yeah it's real hard to believe that guys have the ability to let out air from their colons, call Ripley.

Women shriek non-stop about how bad guys stink when they fart, then they act like they fart sunshine and kittens from their assholes when they rip one. Women farts smell like old men.

Not only is the elusive potpourri poop-chute a myth, a woman's fart is embarrassing whereas a guy's fart is something to behold, like a fine wine you swish in your mouth and spit out to savor the flavors. A real fart is beefy, has a density greater than or equal to the air surrounding it, consists of the unmistakable scent of broccoli, and usually requires wiping afterwards. When a woman farts, it can best be described as "efficient." The sound is a modest toot; a minimalistic, almost innocent sounding release. A true testament to the jumbled bundle of neurons that goes into mapping every woman's brain to her asshole. The efficiency comes from the ratio of reek to weak (how bad her fart smells in proportion to how weak-sounding it was).

The farting double-standard is bullshit. Women giggle and put their hand up to their mouths, as if to say "oops! I'm cute!" No bitch, you're not cute. Your shit stinks. Either fart loud and deny it, or don't fart at all. Leave the farting to men, at least we know how to get the job done
Tuesday, March 28th, 2006
4:56 am
So..here it is...4:57, Tues mutherfuckin morning and I.. am......still......AWAKE!! I mean, WIDE mutherfuckin awake..not just " if I just lay down, close my eyes and think of faggoty unicorns, FEMA and Bush eating Jessica Simpson out I will fall asleep" No, I am awake, awake as in " If I see one more blow up couch commercial I will fuck Bill Gates's mother with a S.C.U.D. missle" AWAKE...this is on no stimulants of any kind, coffee...tea...Mt Dew..or any of those I-taste-like-an-orange-that-has-been-through-a-camels-intestinal-tract energy drinks, Just fucking awake.

I have no continuity.

"Little Hero" blows ass.

So, like I was saying - I'm awake,,what prompts this little tirade...err, discussion is an almost pathological need to vent the slightest problem that enters into my, otherwise, magnificient cerebellum.

I like pie.

"Hustle and Flow" was the shit..I mean, I don't otherwise enjoy movies of this type, this one, I would forgo Leno as " I will fuck to this now that the kids are asleep" fare.

I live in an apartment complex that used to be military housing - it has been converted into several hundred brick buildings that vaguely remind one of a Nazi gulag ( but hey,electricity, heat and water are free...if you can stand "security" telling you that can you can't drink a fucking beer on your own porch, or be outside after 11 - fucking - o'clock)

Jimmy crackcorn and..well, fuck you.

Is it just me, or have all the memebers of Aerosmith been replaced with genetically enhanced, vat grown clones that have been allowed to exist in society until the year 2004 and then abducted by people in an unmarked white van, taken to Area 51 where they have been given an injection that renders them immortal but, unfortunately, sterile ( fuck you, it could happen)

Polynesian languages make me horny..I dunno why, but if you judge me I will fuck your mother on your own lawn.

"Give peace a chance" : whoever coined this phrase has obviously neither ever witnessed, or been a part of someone anally molesting his/her mother..fuck this faggot, whoever n' the hel he/she/Hippie is."Peace" is an idyllic concept only entertained by people that HAVE NO CLUE WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON IN THE WORLD.

Politics - Bush is a fucking shaved Teletubbie, Cheney is..well, he's pretty fucking cool ( I don't have a CCW anymore) and the rest of the world can lick the corn from my crack when it comes to international policy. Fuck 'em.

Eminem - I used to think he was a tortured young man who was venting the frustration of a youth spent in inner city Detroit..this is until I heard the song "Fack" - anyone who screams; " Ram a gerbil in my ass through a tube" even in jest, or parody of the aforementioned, predominately, homosexual act..smacks of " I am played out artistically and should be given as a sex slave to YY chromosome,I-consider-cousin-the-other-white-meat Gods damned no-necked neanderthals to sodomize at will".

So, I'm going now..having offended some, estranged others..and most likely given all a laugh ( laugh at my pain, you ankle grabbing dump stumper)My last words for the morning..when life gives you lemons...slice the motherfucker open, it's Margarita time.

Current Mood: Cause of Entertainment Tonight
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