Shut the Fuck Up You Chink Bastards!

Im just gonna tell all billion plus of you right now… You have the most irritating language on the face of the earth. Oh is it a tonal language? What? Did you run out of different sounds? Seriously, on a scale of 1-10 with ten being brake discs grinding on bare metal brake caliper, your speech is a 12.

Japanese? Fine. Totally badass sounding. Minimal grammar and a simplified alphabet.

But you Chinese… I can’t do it. Don’t speak around me, unless its a language OTHER than mandarin.


“You know whats going to be the most valuable commodity in the future? WATER!” DURRRRRRRR!

I can’t tell you how many times Ive heard this. Usually by some run of the mill fake ass intellectual who leans politically left. (Sorry Dad.) Alright. Lets use basic god damn logic to, in my mind, finally put this retardation to rest.

  1. How much water is there? – Practically infinite
  2. Who uses water? – People
  3. Where do people live? – Next to all the fucking water!
  4. Do these people have the technology to make this water potable? – YES GOD DAMMIT, YES! They’ve had it for a century now! (if not more)
  5. How can they afford the energy it takes for desalinization? – Ive ranted before on this blog that energy scarcity is a thing of the past. We are post energy scarcity RIGHT NOW and thats just from burning dinosaur farts. Only fools look at the current level of tech and assume its not going to advance ever again.
  6. Okay smart guy, what kinda tech is going to supply this energy? – Think of it this way… The internal combustion engine was invented in 1854. That means that for 163 years now, we have been using the SAME technology to power an industrial society. Do you really think that something better hasn’t been invented yet? (Probably Jews again) We could use nuclear energy if we had to, or even harness the tides. My point is, at our current tech level, energy is basically unlimited.

So. Ya. I just don’t believe that on a planet thats two thirds water its ever going to be an extremely valuable commodity. Its just another instance of parrots parroting each other for nonexistent status. (Sorry Dad.) Think of it this way. Its MUCH harder to refine gold, and gold is objectively WAY less useful than water.

But we do it anyway. Cause we’re humans. Thats our nature.

Encounter problem.

Solve it.

Testosterone Poisoning

I just keep getting bigger. Mostly my shoulders. Shirts keep splitting on me. Right down the center of my back. They fit perfectly last year. The hair loss is pretty apparent to pretty much everyone these days. What I’m lacking on my head, I make up for in various other places. First my neck. Thats a good question huh? When does it go from facial hair to body hair? Then weird patches on the tops of my triceps. I would say for the last 4 years or so, I’ve gained 5 pounds per year… Not fat pounds either. Im sure some of its fat, but the mirror is probably the best judge, and I still don’t look like a lard ass. Its just me, but 5 pounds heavier. Kinda a sexy gorilla look. I suppose its to be expected. When I started in the oil patch, I lost the freshman 15 and got lean. When I went full time on the ranch the hay bales just became another part of life. Upper body just keeps blowing up. When I took up farriery, my quads, calves, and forearms blew up. My pee dribbles at the end now. I looked it up. Its most likely benign growth of the prostate. Happens to all men to some extent. Just usually in their mid thirties. Not late 20s… Its not just me either. I don’t trust women to tell the truth. They will say whatever they think is going to flatter you. No, its guys who will let you know. When it happens twice in the same week, you know something is up.

“Dude, you’re getting… Big…”

“Yes, I know. Theres all sorts of other fun things that come with it.”

“Hey, man. How much do you bench?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? You don’t even lift?”


I get so horny I can’t see straight. I see stories about some men waiting 2, 3 dates before pulling the trigger. I don’t do that. We either fuck tonight, or Ill find someone that will. Probably a lot or factors contributing to this hormonal abundance. Clean water, grandmas meaty crew cookin, Lots of hard labor in the great outdoors, a dominant personality… Id say on the whole, its been a net positive. To hell with the prostate thingy. Not a big deal.

Then every year we sell the old bulls. We call em “baloney bulls” cause thats pretty much all they’re good for. They have big shoulders too. They poor old boys just never knew when to stop putting on meat. Muscle bound. Can hardly move their heads. Testicles the size of miniature water melons… Hundreds of children sired, and now they’re shot. Feet are bad. Used up. At seven years old…

I feel for ya, ya cranky old bastards…

Testosterone poisoning aint all fun and games…



Im actually kind of glad my blog is no longer appearing on the aggregator site. I admit, there was a time when it was really nice to have an audience. It was also extremely fun to watch my influence creep into the minds of others and steer the dialogue where I saw fit. But, this is my blog… I didn’t start it to become famous. If I ever do become famous, I would like it to be because of my music. While I appreciate being put on the aggregator, I never actually asked to be there. Now that Im off, I feel a little more comfortable posting things of a little more personal nature. A couple of minor things Ive noticed that I want nothing to do with anymore

No more killing. Sounds weird coming from a cattle rancher and all around carnivore no? Well, I was lifting the bottom bales from the stackyard during winter feeding. Field mice live underneath all the stacks on this ranch. They chew the strings and make the hay useless for transport. As they skittered around my feet, I remembered my father telling me a story. He said he and his brothers would have a competition to see how many the could skewer on the ends of the bale hooks. I casually lifted my foot and crushed the life out of one. As the life left him I felt a little sick. See, its not that I’m squeamish… I just realized that I had no justifiable reason for killing that creature. Murdering him wouldn’t bring the strings of the hay bales back. It was cruel, and completely uncalled for. Ive started slowing down for rabbits too. Let them get off the road. Most of my life I would just keep speed and not swerve. More often then not, all you have to do is nothing to turn them into marinara. But I realized, hey, I’m really not in that big of a hurry. Does this mean Im going to become a vegan and join PETA? Well as the magic 8 ball is so fond of saying, “Ask again later.” You see death is intricately intertwined with life. Is it fair to a blade of grass when a cow cuts it off at the dirt? Is it fair to the crippled gazelle when the cheetah effortlessly snaps its neck? Is it fair to the defenseless caterpillar when the parasitic wasp lays its eggs inside him to eat him from the inside?


Thats just life. Organisms kill each other when they need to. When they need to. So, while I’m just another animal, and one designed to eat other animals at that, I don’t see any reason to frivolously end their time in this existence prematurely without a legitimate reason to. Working around animals all day I can assure you. They have personalities and souls just like we do. They may not be as developed as we are, but they are on their way.

No more sarcasm. This one, in my opinion, is a little more insidious. I think its an offhand effect of how complex the english language is. Nuanced. If you do it just right, you can leave the recipient wondering just what the hell is actually going through your head. Besides its passive aggressive nature, thats ultimately why I’ve deemed it to have no real place in my speaking from now on. Sarcasm is fundamentally dishonest and deceptive. Is he saying what he means? Or the opposite of what he means? Heres a fucking novel idea… Why don’t everybody just say what the fuck they actually mean? I guess it comes from trying to be more genuine all around. A few days ago I told the hand I’ve worked with for the last few years that I appreciated all of his hard work up till now. Ive started (occasionally) telling my parents that I love them. I do. They are in their sixties now and I want them to know they mean a lot to me.

I can’t say I never fall back into old habits. Especially when I’m pissed off. But, Ive realized that I’m probably in this for the long haul. Theres definitely some longevity in my family, and shit… If I’m gonna make it another 60 years…

I gotta cut out some of the bullshit.


Salvia (Still the Same)

I remember smoking this flower in high school. I remember melting into the sofa. Friends circled around laughing at the retardation of the imbiber. Ive always like hallucinogenic, and I think salvia divinorum must have been one of the first I ever tried. So here I am. Quite a few different thoughts bouncing around in my mind as of late. The woman problem remains at square one so the logical path is to try and influence something I have a little more control over.

I would like to make more money.

The horseshoeing venture is netting me $200-300 a month extra from what I was making before. Nothing to sneeze at, but nothing life changing either. I can’t help but feel that if I were spending my time a little bit more efficiently I could be making a whole lot more money.

Am I wasting my time here?

My youth?

Should I move away?

I need some perspective on these things. I need a view thats not of my own. I ordered the 60x bag and waited. A few days later in the mail I received the one gram package. About 40 times the amount that I actually needed, but its harder to get much less that a gram. I cleaned the room and brushed my teeth. I decided not to shower because I still felt more or less clean. I remember some bad experiences in the past where once I got high I couldn’t enjoy it because all the grime and sweat were too distracting. This, I guess, was how I wanted to spend my day off. Lets have a journey. Lets get some perspective on the issues of my life.

I packed on of the last remaining chillums from my rambunctious days. Flicked the orange lighter, and took the bitter herb into my mouth before french inhaling. I held the smoke as long as I could before blowing out faint wisps, all that was left of the potent flower.

It hit like a freight train.

Where am I?

Still at home.

Fuck its cold in here! Is it always this cold in here?!

I was supposed to find something! Talk to somebody! Figure something out!

It was difficult to move, but I had to speak with someone. I wrestled back control of my body from the trance and ran downstairs.


My roommate still at work.

I ran out the door and looked frantically around.

My uncle and grandparents vehicles were gone.


I ran back up to my room.

Maybe that was the big reveal that I try to keep hidden most of my waking hours. Yes, that had to be it. A realization not very pleasant, so I keep it buried…


Something. Distract me.

Ah! Speakers! Music! Help me distance myself from that fact that theres no big solution.

As I fumbled with the mouse trying to decipher volume and iTunes I remember thinking about how I would have killed for this setup when I was a teenager. It was a real ego disassociation. Sort of a thought process of

“Damn, this guy is pretty fucking cool! I know for a fact that these speakers sound awesome! I wish I had this system”

Then a –

“Ya dummy. The only reason you know that is because they are yours!”

I turned on the EDM that first arrived on my playlist. Way too harsh. I couldn’t get it off fast enough. I opened Serato; A DJ program meant to work with controllers. This library was much more extensive and had a more eclectic selection.


Hypersensitivity of my skin. Gah.

Fix my ballsack. The skin feels 10 times more sensitive than normal.


I don’t like this…

As soon as I had that thought, a large portion of the anxiety went away.

Just another unpleasant experience. I can deal with that.

Nothing is different.

I didn’t learn anything.

Im just high now is all.

Then I saw it while scrolling down the page. Still the same. By Bob Segar.

Of course. It had to be.

You always won every time you placed a bet

You’re still damn good
No one’s gotten to you yet
Every time they were sure they had you caught
You were quicker than they thought
You’d just turn your back and walk

You always said
The cards would never do you wrong
The trick you said
Was never play the game too long
A gambler’s share
The only risk that you would take
The only loss you could forsake
The only bluff you couldn’t fake

And you’re still the same
I caught up with you yesterday
Moving game to game
No one standing in your way
Turning on the charm
Long enough to get you by
You’re still the same
You still aim high

There you stood
Everybody watched you play
I just turned and walked away
I had nothing left to say
‘Cause you’re still the same
You’re still the same
Moving game to game
Some things never change
You’re still the same

Things can’t be all that bad. If I can honestly say that this song came to me when I needed it most, and I  can say it perfectly describes me… Then I really have nothing to worry about.

Ill be here tomorrow.

Still the same.



As I lean on the balcony rail of my rented apartment in the heart of Taipei, my eye is drawn to deep green of audacious little plants that I will never know the name of. They have the nerve to grow in the cracks of the drab concrete buildings I am surrounded by. On the ride in I saw jungle. Big thick trees covered in other parasitic trees and vines. Ferns cover every inch of dirt that has even a little sunlight. The moist air and low elevation does my weak lungs many favors. Its hereditary I’m afraid.

In the massive park I have to ask if its grass I’m stepping on. The blades are so thick and sproingy… Well, I wouldn’t call it grass, thats all. I see the typical old men and women practicing Tai Chi to stay limber. There are probably around 50 little children, ages 2-4 playing monkey on the most peculiar tree I’ve ever seen. Its wider than it is tall and seems to be made for little kids to play on as it branches out in patterns acceptable for little kids to climb on as their mothers watch.

The locals are wandering around with coats on. Im sweating my fuckin balls off. To think that this is about as cold as it gets… To think that for vast regions of earth, agriculture is not only possible… Its probably considerably easier. Ample rain, plenty of sun, fertile soil.

Lucky bastards.

Oppressing Women

You’ll notice that when I comment on popular blogs about intersexual relations that I never jump on the bandwagon of oppressing women. Their reasoning goes something like –

“We as a culture have given women far too many rights, opportunities, choices, and general agency over their own lives. They always abuse this, and end up far more unhappy than they would have if we would had just controlled their lives.”

Ok. Heres where my take on this gets complicated. Lets say for a minute that this position holds water for the majority of women. Its still, in my opinion, evil. Oppressing people (assuming you think of women as people, a big assumption in these internet waters) is a hellish tendency. A major part of my satisfaction with life comes from knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that my decisions steer my own destiny. Right now, at 26, I could be the owner and operator of my very own… Donut shop. Im sure I could run this shop profitably and have a pretty comfortable upper middle class life in my hometown. My father and mother would certainly approve of handing down the donut crown. Theres just one little problem.

I fucking hated that god damned donut shop.

The path I walk now is fraught with much more uncertainty and pitfalls than that hypothetical life path. Yes, financially it would be much more profitable, but thats not what wanted. I had to make my own mistakes. I had to go through immeasurable misery in the frozen wastes of the Bakken oil fields. I had to learn seduction and see for myself what makes women, and men for that matter, tick. Those experiences made me what I am today. Im a much more experienced man than I would have been if I stayed in my hometown waking up at 4:30 am every morning to fry gobs of dough that give people heart disease. Im much more satisfied with my decision to become a rancher, even if it is much more dangerous and uncertain.

Thats where you’re going with your women argument. Make her stay in her hometown. Make her marry nice guy beta Joe Smith. Do I have to spell it out for you fuckers?

When you MAKE anyone do anything, the only thing you make them is MISERABLE!

Any comfort and happiness you gain from the sure bet is horrendously offset by the sinking feeling in your gut that you just did what you were told. It wasn’t your life to live. It wasn’t your choice. The only thing that makes us truly human is our free will.

And you wanna take that away for over half of the people on earth.

Fuck you.


Poetry Ive Heard In Dreams

*Like a drop of water in a mountain stream, as are the people to the city of Rome.*

*Every man is cursed, to suffer and yearn… To crave the fire, but not to burn.*

My mind is a very strange place. I dreamed these verses a long time ago, but only now got to writing them down. Funny, because in my waking state, I can’t stand most poetry.





It’s self imposed when I really stop to think about it. I went too hard for too long. I was in a holding pattern for a while. Two plates, one every other day. They live in different towns than I do. Suits me just fine. I gotta get outta this po-dunk or else my sanity suffers. I would bang the single mom during the week, then on the weekend I would drive to the college town and empty my load in the squas mouth. We would do fuck tons of cocaine and molly then fuck for like 3 hours.

That worked great for me… For a while. It got old banging 6s. I’m Grody dammit! I’ve banged 9s before. I started on a night game blitz. It really didn’t take long. I hear so much about putting in the numbers but I don’t really buy into that crap. If I go out with the honest to god intention of cutting another notch in my bedpost, it’s almost a guarantee that I’ll get laid. I banged the 9, then the 8 (who’s only an 8 because she has no tits.) Being a good looking guy has its advantages.

Now several factors have simultaneously descended on me to hamper my womanizing. First off my truck. It’s got 208 thousand miles on it as of this writing. Several minor issues make me uncomfortable taking it a few hundred miles. My BMW runs, but not well. I also have neglecting getting it registered. These vehicles need money, and I’ve been steadfast in a savings plan that is probably far too aggressive for ranch hand wages. Secondly, after banging the hotter chicks, I don’t really feel like going back to my regulars. Oh sure I can still get pleasure from sex with them, but it’s just not the same as banging a woman that’s close to my SMV. Third… I kinda fell for the Asian girl. She’s gone of course. Foreigner after all… Perhaps xsplat is right and only time will get rid of these desperate feelings. It took me a good few months to get over the red headed chick. Either way, no matter how much my balls ache at the moment, the idea of fucking anyone else is just not that appealing to me.

So here I’m stuck. Again. No matter how much I love the game, my ranch takes priority, and November is a busy month. Gotta get those calves to market. Gotta keep the lights on.

Short post. But I guess the moral of the story is that everyone has highs and lows. The game will chew up and spit out lesser men. That’s why most of the ding-dongs you see on a daily basis won’t bother with it. They’ll do anything to avoid discomfort.

Embrace the suck. Keep your head up.

Time will pass.

100% BLACK Angus (On Marketing Bullshit)

Im sure you’ve seen the signs. In your ignorant mind, you interpret them to mean that you’re getting the highest quality beef money can buy. The word ignorant has gotten a pretty negative connotation. Its used as an insult, when literally, it just means that you dont know something. Go on. Tell me. What does 100% black angus mean? Its the best right? Isn’t it a breed of cow? Why would they be boasting about it if it wasn’t good?

Thats a pretty sound line of reasoning actually. But let me get you thinking about it for a moment.

How many breeds of cow can you actually name? Not many huh. So when you put stock in these marketing tactics, with what are you actually comparing this burger you’re buying?

Lets face it. They duped you again.

Now Im no geneticist, but I have been doing this shit for about 7 years total now. The only advantage to pushing for 100% black angus is standardization. The size of the Angus is convenient for shipping. They are also hardy, resilient, and deal with cold weather pretty well. They are not however the tastiest cow. Im willing to bet a thousand dollars dear reader, that if given the pepsi challenge between an Angus steak and any other type of beef, you would not be able to tell any difference.

In fact, there are a lot of disadvantages to raising the Angus. At least on my end. They’re irritable. Not as smart or calm as the Hereford either. Just the other day while pregnancy testing the two year olds, my coworker took a kick directly to the chest. He thinks his rib is broken. I could go on all day with these kinds of stories about the gigantic pain in the ass these Angus cows are. Our cattle are starting to get a reputation in this valley for being mean too. Back when we had about 25%-50% Hereford genetic mix in our herd, they were much easier to deal with. This Hybrid mix is probably what I would prefer to run if I became boss tomorrow. It would be the best of both breeds without the disadvantages of either. The Hereford cows don’t get worked up as easy. They take their time and look around for the openings instead of crashing through fences and corrals all the time. The Angus brings its winter toughness into the mix.


I have to deal with 100% BLACK Angus. Why? Cause thats what advertising has convinced everyone is the best. Thats what buyers pay top dollar for.

That and 100% Grass Fed. Jesus. People will swallow anything. Even 100% Grass Fed beef. Leathery, dry, nasty. Gimme a break people. Fat carries flavour. You want grain fed cattle. They taste better. Animal fat has even been proven to be extremely beneficial to your health.

Oh right, they will say that GMO corn is the reason to go for grass fed. But let me ask you this. How much of that laboratory altered genetic material (if it was even altered in the first place) is left once the cow turns it into beef and shit? Again, Im not a scientist, so correct me if im wrong, but I dont think you have to worry about toxic genetic contamination once the cow is done digesting it.

And if you are?

Then I think you need more things to fill out your day.