Dr. Seuss cartoon (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I just read this…course, I had to Google many of the words. Honestly, I wasn’t happy with the AmeriCorps VISTA FEMA Blue fish, red fish, green fish…the whole idea sounded like Dr. Seuss and some of his LSD nonsense. But the more I read about being blindly led to parts of America without real specific environment or disaster oriented issues, well, I’m all for it.
The sedatives maybe kickin’ in but shit, to be told when to shit, how to shit, what to wear and when to rake…well, it’s almost like being back in Concord and having Mother Theresa pick my thongs out for me.
Anyhow, thought I’d share the laziness amongst the spoiled brat volunteer news:
Since when do we need a new division of people going out and helping on a hurricane? That’s what we do. They are taking our job away. That’s our job. That’s our job as churches and communities. That’s our job. FEMA is always the last one there. When we had the tornadoes, Mercury One was one of the first groups on the scene. Churches are always the first on the scene. And when FEMA finally got to the tornadoes last season, when they finally got there, if you remember right it was two days later and they started telling people, you can’t clean this up. You don’t have a permit. You can’t clean this up. Remember? What do we need these people for? Why are we spending money on this?
They call me dumb?! I get paid above the table this time. I get to keep my clothes on, which is a disappointment. And, I get a free ride on the government…nothing new in that!
Keep up the good work Mr. Obama. I had been hesitant to vote for you…what with medicare and welfare and giving to the poor but on second thought, you’re my kind of guy.
Yours Ever So Not Graceful-
Ambien Annie the C., Grace
Battle for the Planet of the Apes (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Thoughts on Ambien not so Full of Grace:
So, languidly and apologetically, I must say something. Not all twenty-somethings are the missing link to Neanderthal woman and Attack of the Fifty foot Dumbed Down Dyed Blonde.
Send Beckett Couvillion my love
Not all attempt to defraud the government and profess a yearning to better the world in one false swoop of ignorant bliss.
Some pay their way through college on their dime and on their time and raise a family, sometimes with Baby Daddy, most often not.
Most do not claim indecent exposure of the plus side of life; they managed to work, volunteer, balance good with bad and cry at night once the kids are a sleep.
The handfuls of upper middle class ‘I want to be an adult…I really do!’ that live with Mum and Daddy. Rake sawdust to better the environment and pray to no higher power. These children dressed in Trazodone/Ambien disguise prey off the idea that ‘someone somewhere owes them something.’
Today there had been a beautiful woman to the likes I had never seen. She was balancing a child on one hip, scolding another child and handing out commands as though she had been running the tightest ship in the shipping business.
She gives to the local community via their needs and wants. She is proud and strong and versatile in what is given…for she and many like her know all too well what is needed.
She is a daughter to the next generation. No mother or father to pave a path of bad intentions and spoiled sexual ideation topped with gender bender idealism.
AmeriCorps VISTA, FEMA, spoilers of the spoiled brats have handed down karaoke machines, sweet drinks and open mic nights to these Romney descendants. The 1% of America that her majesty should disown. There are no nude portraits. No fingers held behind the back to which the Annie/Ambien’s speak promises with forked tongue. There is a generation out there willing to pay their fair share. Pick up the mess and gluttony of my group of wanton hippies and attempt to make the grass green again.
Why is it the privilege few are marking every leg with the scent of oblivious inadequacy? The papered in money few are soiling the lot of the working class.
Again, there are your tax dollars at work.
I suppose there is nothing we can do but POP another Ambien and hop it all goes away.
Did not I cast the first stone
And then justify the blame
What if I came at you with such loose labels as; fag, dyke, nigger, towelhead?
Where did the labels and the name calling begin? Does it sit with me, a woman deemed by many to have no soul, a romantic vulture and/or a narcissist who is in it to win it?
Has my ego became so large that what seems like a Robin Hood idealism is nothing but a poorly painted shell without a psyche? Had I given into the thought of turning the tables? Helping a baby dyke with diaper changing? Allowed for a path to be shown and to which, every Ambien volunteer could veer right or left. Was the purposeful lesson of ‘dignity for all’ an idea that started from within and, slowing given the option to be drawn upon a photographer’s lens with no right or wrong picture…
Indeed, am I politically correct to consider my own kind denouncing ME and US by their own admission of ignorance and indifference a vagrant’s vain attempt of learning through osmosis?
Had I offered the nakedness of picture taking perfect as an easy out? A simplictic yes or no answer? A fourth grader’s mechanical choice of right or wrong?
Because my spotted calf had chosen what sat behind door number one, homophobic lesbianism,on her own…she personally went about slicing the throats of all who walked a similar beat. A decision made for the sake of ‘the highest reward’ a parent’s grace.
Had all the obvious roads not taken been made more childlike, a toddler would have sat in my bed. But that was not the case.
If there is not an equation set before the dumbfounded and confused what there ever be an answer? And,, does anyone have the right to choose our rights by ignoring the hard-earned paths of others.
Philanderer, philosopher or plain old, sex fiend…I suppose that would be a tough call.
Yet, when the offer of an open door policy is erected within the rules of couple-dom, is it not the choice that makes us moral or not?
I have decided this:
To an extent to which there have been so much bullying by indifference that a Pavlov’s Dog needed to come to life.
I hung the treat in front of the young and naïve subject’s mouth and offered reward and/or punishment.
How can it be when given these options there is no right or wrong, just a simple and complete means to an end:
Choosing to work legitimately as most adults do/ Opting to work without acknowledgement of tax and therefore, indeed taking food from the mouths of the poor.
AmeriCorps/VISTA/FEMA exploiting the good nature of her republic by ignoring the simple facts; partying, dancing, karaoke, free housing and 24/7 access to social media versus: volunteering without pay for the sake of volunteering without need for reward other than self fulfillment.
Opting to choose the consequences of our behavior and/or hiding behind labels and faulty advertisement and hidden surnames.
We all have choices!
Point of the matter, the lack of prayer in the classroom, the distance between war and peace, the hatred for each other that derives itself from an unknown origin, all stems from our own ability to evade the choice which maybe difficult. The ulterior motives in all of us, once laid out like a fresh turd on a hot’s summer’s day is our downfall.
The Ambien’s, the Annie‘s, the Brittany‘s and the Jeremy‘s of our nation’s newest real reality show are but simple knock offs. For it is far easier to fashion one’s self to difference than proclaim the choice ourselves
we are only what our choices allow us to be
Dear Mother Theresa and Father Floyd, Auburn Street, Concord NH…that is if you haven’t moved and forgot to let me know:
We have started training and I enjoy it even though the classes are pretty dull and full of common sense stuff; how to sharpen pencils, use a calculator, count without using your fingers…
Unfortunately Tuesday came and it was time to find out our FEMA job and what our new permanent team would be, as well as finding out who our new roommate would be. I was so nervous because some people here are too much to handle and I didn’t want to be stuck with them for 10 months of togetherness. We had a final goodbye dinner… It was a bummer. We all wrote good-bye poems and cards…
We finally gathered for our team. And, last night and I got an envelope that had a blue piece of string which meant I am in the Blue unit. It’s a unit for ‘special’ persons with ‘special’ attention needed.
I then matched my puzzle pieces to my new teammates. We are BLUE 2: Logistics. So my job will be logistics Winchester VA., pushing paperwork for FEMA. The f-ing TEAM I hooked up with sucks…Everyone wants to drink.
I’ve been having a blast. I’m tired, though and took a shit load of meds, but I still made it for open mic night. See I knew I wasn’t an alcoholic.
Love Always, Though I’m not sure what love is-
Ambien/the Annie C Grace
if the church doesn’t have to pay taxes why should I?
With bikini season upon us our choices are endless…
The visuals of women thinking they are models and are in actually non intelligent life forms from another planet stuffed into polyester maxi pads and rayon ear muffs.
…look Ambien, there’s a whale!
Large is always in charge when not a single friend has the courage to say,
‘I thought you owned a mirror?’
Instead what unfolds is a little bit of history repeating itself:
‘Get me a shoehorn, bad genes and a enviable blonde attitude and I just might pass.’
Discouraged among the dumb down…
searching for sign of intelligent life