Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Hell... Founded In 1682 By William Penn

I really don't like this state. I've been from East to West and North to South and I haven't found more than a small handful of reasons to like Pennsylvania. I like autumn in Pennsylvania in all it's beauty, with the leaves changing and what not. I also like the fact that life isn't a clusterfuck where I happen to live, there just aren't "too many" people, but that's about all. I've been a lot of places in the United States, more than I can count on both hands and feet. Truth be told I only have good things to say about a few that can be counted on one hand. Despite all this I find myself driving back into Pennsylvania from Virginia almost every weekend and wishing that I could just stay and not return to this frozen pile of Quaker poo.

I left Virginia this weekend and as usual was none to happy about doing it. That's not new that I'm not happy about doing something but in this case it's more understandable than usual. The only time I'm actually happy is when I'm there (it's not the state itself, just what's in it, though I do like the state). Point being, I am happy sometimes, just not during the week when I'm in Pennsylvania and I have to work. Today was no exception to the norm. I woke up at 5:30 am as usual. I hit the "snooze" button twice and then rolled begrudgingly out of my warm and comfortable bed. Christ on a stick do I hate getting out of my bed in the morning. There is almost nothing that can make the morning a positive experience, almost nothing.

Skipping mundane details and moving ahead. I grab my lunch box, which actually contains no lunch. Inside my "lunch box" is some ice, three reused gatorade bottles filled with skim milk, an amp energy drink, and a premixed protein shake. Yeah, you know you wish you had that protein shake right now! I have to bring drinks because my office doesn't have a soda machine, or a candy machine, or even one within walking distance. It's bullocks I tell you! What the fuck sort of office doesn't have a soda machine? Truth be told, I would probably not buy anything out of the machine anyhow because I try not to drink soda (or eat candy for that matter), but I like to know it's there if I want it.

So, out the door I go and I realize immediately that something is not right. It's really warm out, unseasonably warm. There's still ice on the ground, and snow, despite the warmth, which is melting the ice and snow. The ice and snow seem to have nowhere to go though because humidity is like 100%. This is ridiculous, I can't see more than 10 feet in front of me. Yes it's dark, I know, you remembered it's not even 6 am, good job, but that isn't it. No, the problem is the fog. A thick, can't see 10 feet in front of you, creepy fucking blanket of fog. Fog, like the film... but not the lame 2005 remake, no, I mean the original, scary, 1980 John Carpenter version of the film. I'm half expecting to be skewered through the liver by some sort of 16th century, part supernatural corpse-like creature wielding a cutlass.



I don't like getting stabbed by angry corpses so I really don't care for fog. Yes, I know, I know better but it's still fun to have an imagination.

Fun Fact: I had a dream that went with a very similar plot to this movie before I had ever seen or heard of the film. There was fog, and dead fuckers with glowing eyes, and when they fog rolled in they tried to kill my ass. It didn't have anything to do with water or fishermen like the town in the film but it was scary as shit. My dead things were Amish and emerged from forest instead of sea but still fucking frightening. (one of these days I'll put that dream on this blog).

Now, I'm in my car, I'm safe from the fog, but I can't see a goddamn thing. I had to drive an hour to work and for 35 our out of 40 miles I could not see farther than 15 feet in front of my car. I can't very well drive 10 mph and get to work anytime today, so I just stuck with near the speed limit as I recalled in my head where the road turned so that I would not end up in the trees. Lets just say that this translates to a very stressful drive. Fortunately there were very few people on the roads to get in my way because if there had been disaster would have ensued.

At one point I did nearly flatten some sort of country dwelling hobo. I think it should be not only legal, but one should get a medal for hitting with a car, any individual stupid enough to walk ON the road, wearing black, while it's dark outside. Dude was walking inside of the white line on the side of the road, facing away from traffic, in the fucking fog. You can't tell me he wasn't deserving of a new profession as a hood ornament or road pizza! This guy was probably Amish too and if he was that would explain everything. These people are so goddamn dumb when it comes to some common sense shit that I wonder why they don't chase cars and try to bite the tires. I guess I should expect such things from a people who's family tree looks like this.


Not only do these idiots walk on the side of the road and cause a hazard, they also drive their medieval carts in the road as well. Let me tell you what doesn't belong on public roadways. Wait for it... Wait for it... Did you guess yet? AMISH PEOPLE DON'T BELONG ON PUBLIC FUCKING ROADWAYS! Tell me, what is more dangerous than a car sized, black, wooden box on giant wooden wheels, containing twelve inbred puritans, being towed by a single aged horse at 5 mph on a two lane back country road frequented by log trucks, all while it's dark outside! I implore you to tell me what is a worse idea than that!?

Amish don't pay taxes to drive on those roads so FUCK THEM! If you want to drive on the goddamn road get a car or a horse that goes the speed limit like everybody else and pay some fucking taxes like the rest of us. If you don't want to do that then build your own goddamn roads you obsolete assholes!

So enough about the Amish, I didn't happen to kill any, and none got me killed this day but there shall be more. This battle has only just begun Amishes!

I got into town and stopped at the "Country Fair" because it's the only place to get breakfast that's close to work. It starts as soon as I try to drive into the parking lot. There are maybe 10 parking spaces in front of the place and there are 6 pickup trucks taking up all of them because they are parked all cockeyed, sideways, and every direction south of retarded. I fucking hate you people with your trucks. Stupid fucking hillbillies, I hope you die. It's not simply the trucks that piss me off, that's a lot of it, but it's the fact that they have 12,675 hunting related stickers on the back window and the driver is usually wearing an ensemble worth about $6.00.

I want to know something. If you have a haircut that your wife did for you because you can't afford one. If you buy your clothes at Walmart because you're too poor to afford anything else. If you buy your food with food stamps. If you have holes in your work boots. How the fuck do you justify owning a $30,000 Ford Turbo Diesel pickup truck? HOW motherfucker HOW!? You can't! How about that carton of cigarettes that you're in here buying? You can't justify that either you fucking asshole! I don't care if they are Pall Mall Lights. Yes I know that Pall Mall Lights are made out of part tobacco, part ground up dandilion, and part dog shit. That doesn't matter, you don't need them because your broke ass can't afford them. I hate you people!

There are 6 people standing outside, loitering like it's their job. These old fuckers do this every morning. They just stand there, drink their shitty coffee, smoke their shitty cigarettes, and stare at me in a slack jawed manner that leads me to believe that they were unaware a human existed to whom they were not directly related. Two of the people outside are always employees. At any given time of the day you can go to Country Fair and you will encounter 3 employees. Two of the three employees will be outside smoking... ALWAYS. It really doesn't matter if there were 14,000 people in line at the checkout, the employees outside smoking would see this, and light another one. I hope they light themselves on fire.

One of the women working there today happily carried on a conversation with a fat lady in line in front of me today for 5 full minutes while I waited. She wasn't even checking out the fat lady, the fat lady was done, all she had to do was pick up her shit and walk the fuck away but it was catch up on the past week time apparently. So the cashier who has long, greasy, black hair, thick, coke-bottle-like glasses, the general appearance of a meth addict, and summer teeth (some r here, some r there (for those of you who haven't heard that)) chattered away about her ex boyfriend. Apparently she had him arrested for something, 3 times, didn't press charges, but got a restraining order, which he violated. Now she's "done with him" she hopes. Christ to I hope he did not impregnate that creature or we're all fucked.

Finally I got my shit and I'm off to work. I can't begin a single day without this sort of aggravation it would seem.

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