‘the’ ita’lick-y 1

I don’t know when I got so vicious.

I do know why, though.

The library’s open, isn’t it?  Why aren’t I there yet?  I had a line earlier, and I want to get it down.  3:11 pm.

Stable, reliable work force.  Small business incubator.  Independent contractors’ union.  Respectful efficient use of space.  Organicization.  Solar ovens, computers, bikes, everyone deserves these.  Reassemble the scraps to build [the ultimate, combined mega-superhero, see: Transformers, Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers, Ocean’s 11, umm, the Incredibles, who else… and I don’t have internet here, so it’s all remembery.  Yoy.].  These are your blueprints.

Look, “hiring” an open source survival/business incubator doesn’t necessarily involve having to speak to me or even admit that I’m a person.  That Regina song that came on when I got here summed it up quite nicely.  The concert that is my life is a wonderful experience.  I wish all of you equal happiness in creating your own personal symphony.

$10/hr for everybody!  Regardless of work type!

I have a request.  A small group of hard-working true believers are interested in creating a public service, of sorts.  It’s also a sort of a “job.”  It’s not like other jobs, though.  Here, the projects are up-to-the-second and 50 people busting ass for 10 hours over two days to physically remove a mall.  This is our land, folks.  Let’s start acting like it.

[Editor’s note: It’s editing?  Watch out, kids.  Soon it’ll edit video commercials in trade for free-range eggs and a Droid with unlimited data on somebody else’s data plan.  Oh, right, I’m editing to make this more clear, aren’t I.  Sheesh!] <shameless plug>

Attention Stevens Point Legal Community:  Startup housing cooperative seeks long-term relationship with ethically minded, frighteningly intelligent, and ruthlessly loyal compliance review, document submittal, and public re-presentation/translation.  You will get $10 per person per hour in credit that may be exchanged for friendship and/or organic vegetables.  Trust me, that’s more than you make now.  Send proposals replete with groveling, sorry, free of pleasantries or rhetoric, to lawleft@gmail.com.

</shameless plug>  We strive for accura-see!

pronounced like a nj retard saying "dee-tee-dee!"

pronounced like a nj retard saying "dee-tee-dee!"

Hi!  I’m at the library now.  Holy mcFucksticks, Stevens Point!  Yous guys givved me the bestest office ever today!  I love it.  Thank you.  Here’s a picture out “my” office window:

'LazyAssWasteoid for Jesus' would fit up there, wouldn't it?

'LazyAssWasteoid for Jesus' would fit up there, wouldn't it?

(Stevens Point, WI Public Library).  Rockin.  You have many things, people, and spaces I wish to share.  I promise to be nice (‘cept when I write).  Yeah, well, you don’t know me.

So, the shop’s open.  I got a brain full of knowledge about gawd-knows-what, a network of farmers, activists, new age loonies, all clinging desperately to their “party” even though “their” (HA!) party goes along with stupid corporate BS and avoids real issues.  Plus, they make all of us look like racist, idiotic, violent jerks to the rest of the planet!  Stop spending money on a system that only knows how to terrorize you.  I’m sorry.  I do my best to not tell people what to do.  That would be an imposition of my perspective for your own.  I don’t want to do that.  I go doing that, and you’ll give me “responsibility” to up-keep what you need to do for you.  You need to do what you need to do at every step of the way, and nobody should/can/will tell you what that is.  I can tell you what my priorities are, and why I do what I do with my own life and time.  I can’t really speak for anyone else.  I don’t know their motivation, and judging by their actions, their motivation isn’t what they say their motivation is.  Calling a person like that a liar may be accurate (and I often do), but your honor my client was merely confused.  He himself was lied to, multiple times and without his consent his “voice” was taken by another and he has suffered greatly for this co-option.  Until he is freely given a safe place to sleep, sufficient food to eat, and highly flexible and forgiving education regarding positive uses of his time, he will likely continue to act up.  Your honor, I argue that this is not “his” responsibility, for “he” is merely a single person amongst a multitude of systems, personalities, and other isolationist-thinking, scared-of-the-other, gimmie gimmie hoarders, and whatever other innocents get sucked into one of these endless loops of confusion and fear.  This is a systematic problem.  If you do not address this need in him/you right now (changing action, habit, and intent), the system will continue to crumble, creating chunks/shards/freaks/reevers of ever-increasing individual strength, fortitude, and desire/drive for constant improvement. You cannot stop this monster, nor would you want to.  All you can do is love it.  Work with it.  Let it help you.  Help you let it.  [and then, a miracle occurs] Profit! Erm.  Yeah.

I just sent an e-mail!

Re: my life

I, unlike most people, speak to everyone in the world at once. Most of the time, if I decide to post it on the internet, I put it at http://LazyAssWasteoid.wordpress.com. At the moment, I spend most of my time, thought, and devotion on a project I called “Skyscaper Permaculture” (see website here: http://sites.google.com/site/skyscaperpermaculture/ or http://bit.ly/skyscaper if you like short links. they link to the same place.).  Anyway, I’m still convinced that some day, you will voluntarily “join” this cooperative enterprise so that you have help fixing and upgrading your house, you should never have to worry about “selling” it for a “fair” price, and you will greatly increase your group of friends by associating with all-minded, diversely distributed, hard-working people.  Plus I’d get to see you across the table/campfire for hippie parties more often.  We’re not there yet, but it’s happening a lot faster than I could have imagined.  I’ll keep posting progress on the websites if you ever feel like checkin’ back in.

I’d say more, but I’m saying it all on the blog these days, so if you can stand/forgive/understand the anarchist/petty/complex rants there, I think you’ll understand me better, too.

I love you, mom.

p.s. me and my newest “dream girl” been flirting in/around dumpsters.  It’s so cute you’d barf, literally barf.  if it keeps going this well, i’ll have to introduce the two of you.  she’s a sweetheart.


I hope that none of you mind that I speak to you all at once.  I know it’s a little strange, but I find that it’s the only way to get across how I feel.  I honestly believe that I am thinking about all of you when I do what I do.  I don’t want any more fame than I had back when that clown put me on a folding metal chair in my cub scout uniform on my birthday in front of those TV cameras.  Erase me from any and all record books.  Make the only “evidence” of my existence the personal memories of those who witnessed my actions first-hand.  Seriously, the rest of you don’t really get it.  It’s the biggest inside joke the world has ever seen, coming to a theatre near you.  The honor you do me by putting to concrete use a single one of my ideas makes me “successful” at my dream job, in this paradise I created using a lowly small town working class poor kid (and a willingness to “steal” two world-class “educations”).  All I’ve ever wanted to do was share what I’ve learned with you, ‘cuz I’ve had plenty of “teachers,” and the ones who were best at it never referred to themselves as such.  They were just open about what they knew, what they were doing it for, and always ready to be the student at a moment’s notice.  Sometimes, for only a moment.  Then, back to the yelling.  Look, when you become capable of getting close enough to that wild-haired/eyed/bearded scrawny lunatic ranting on a soapbox it made out of discarded treasures, you’ll learn what happens to all of the useful information.  It gets buried under red tape, defensive distractions, and the mental and emotional bowing-to-the-suggested utterly useless time/effort/money-sucks-of-the-machine.  That thing that keeps you and I from knowing that we’re working/existing/thinking together at all times did not originate with you.  When you can sift through the pieces and discover those few glowing embers buried down deep under layers and layers of fear, how’s about a shout-out to the firestarters, sparklers, outcasts and rejects.  You know they’ve already taught/helped/loved you more than anybody whose relationship with you involves money, and we can both see from here that you’re sitting on a much bigger stack.  You really think that is a coincidence?  This is not charity, folks.  It’s free education, assistance, and expertise of the finest human beings to have ever existed upon planet earth.  Let you/me/us help you/me/us turn this place into the “envy” of the planet, a place that everyone can live with.  Then, let’s help them determine their own path.

Oh, and like I like to say about my personal “escort” service, “it’s a lot easier than you’d think.”  Whatever.  Sex jokes are like 4:20 jokes are like fart jokes.  They’re totally immature, genius, and revealing of true reality.  Fuck, for fuck’s sake, people!  I don’t remember a time when I was happier.

Love ya!

p.s. (update 5:17 pm) quit editing half-way through today’s friggin’ novel.  I hope some extra-offensive stuff snuck in.  Whatever.  I still really love you.

p.p.s. (up'{star}date 5:42 pm) added pics.  Flo, I’ll add you to 2tha SP motha’ship: bit.ly/skyscaper another time/upon consultation/approval.  You’re already a true friend.  Dictator approves.  You get to live.

~ by LazyAssWasteoid on 2010-08-25 (Wednesday).

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