Vignettes.

"He's a good boy, he loves his momma. He loves Jesus, and his country too. He's a good boy, working class white male. He loves violence, and his dumb girlfriend too. That's enough to make me sick."
-Propagandhi, "White, Proud and Stupid," sung to Tom Petty's "free fallin'".

On the drive back from my lovely thanksgiving in Steamboat Springs, Co, my mother and I stopped off for some food in the even more lovely town of Kremmling, Co. Doesn't Kremmling sound like some sort of malignant growth?
"I just got back from the doctor. It's bad news, looks like I've got a "kremmling". They're going to have to remove it surgically.

Yeah.

So, we go into the grocery store, and my mother and I peruse the magazines on a rack as she waits in line for the bathroom. There's this guy standing next to us, lazily flipping through some magazine. After my mom leaves, out of curiosity, I look over at the guy, just to see what he's reading, and as he rests the magazine back in it's little rack, I notice it just so happens to be a copy of Shooting Illustrated. SHOOTING ILLUSTRATED. I was surprised because, you know, I've never heard of that particular periodical, and the reason I've never heard of it is because it isn't sold in towns with populations larger than 17; or is it that it's not sold in towns the people of which have more than 17 teeth? I don't remember.

I don't know much about Kremmling, but one thing is certain, the people there like to kill stuff.

Sometimes I hate my race.

...

My Great-Great-Great-Great-Great-Great Grandfather on my father's mother's father's father's father's father's father's side of the family immigrated from Ireland. He came ashore sometime between 1765 and 1767. He came here before us white folks had (re)named this country. Can you imagine how hard he must have worked just to make it through each day? Each generation has struggled though so much bullshit, day in and day out moving fucking mountains just to make it though to the next generation. All of these people have worked so hard to ensure a future, and all of their hard work has culminated in my body, in my being, my existence.

My potential.

So much sex. Wasted.

...

I made a wallpaper today, I think it's pretty. Feel free to adorn your drab old desktop with my purdy picture.



Kisses.

...

I'm so tired. You couldn't imagine.