Missive From ‘Merica: Never Lego

The Okie Devil is sick, Dear Reader…

*That’s right, Clicky, he’s postponed setting off until he’s feeling better… *

…Luckily for us, he’s sent through another missive, although he does seem somewhat tetchy…

*What? No, of course I’m not happy about him leaving home to walk fuck knows where with a backpack full of tortillas. But what can I do?*



This, whatever this is that is about to unfold, is gonna be a little different today.

Today, where and when I am, it is Tuesday June 27th of 2017.

How the fuck are ya?
^Greatest Vocal Trance Of All Time 1 of 3 God’s Compilation^

Let’s start at Merovee, CFrank Davis’ “normal” blog, RooBeeDoo’s LoL, via Twitter, and Leg Iron’s UBU blog.

Meh…let’s skip all those unimportant assholes…they aren’t paying my bills, nor do they help me in any way, shape, or form.

So … Merovee … … … a post entitled “Family” … a comment by a certain RooBeeDoo2 … a link to a tweet … a picture of two independent sets of some nice legs that are in distress (and in some nice dresses…ba da ching)…

a back in distress (in back…ba da ching)…

a warping clock that could be a metaphor for all kinds of time distortions.

(ba da ching = averted/omitted)

Did I mention that these nice legs that are in distress are attached to people? Yeah. So is the back in back that is in distress that appears to be pushing a dolly/hand-truck. But I don’t want to assume the dude’s gender if he is actually a girl…so I’m avoiding thinking about whether or not those legs are nice or not. I bet those legs are pretty nice to them tho…so…yeah.

So…to see if that dude is actually pushing a dolly/hand-truck…I zoomed in on her, to see if I could figure out what kind of voter registration card he might be carrying in her wallet.

Gender Assumed Back Problems That May Or May Not Be Dating Material For Me Personally Picture Link

I mean hell, those two girls walking with their legs all twisted are WAY too fucking hot for me. Plus, they carry GIANT fucking handbags, so obviously…they are materialistic sluts who fuck for money/only dig rich dudes. They prolly only work at normal jobs for tax reasons. But I digress.

Yeah…that zoom function on MSPaint really didn’t help me out much. It went from looking like someone pushing a dolly, to someone who is grappling with a pixelated gateway to hell, that is full of fiery evil souls that are trying to escape into the earthly realms to wreak havoc and destruction on unsuspecting humans.

 Good thing this poor fucker has intervened for us, eh? 

Anyway…yeah…the zoom doesn’t tell me much…but there do appear to be some wheels … so … we’ll assume this dolly’s gender and intentions, and yeah…back problems just looking for a place to way to happen. I don’t know what that yellow thing that he/she/it is headed for, but those hell demons better hope that isn’t a mopping bucket full of water. Prolly wouldn’t be holy water, but…maybe that’s what the demons are needing…unholy water created from some poor fuck tasked with the unenviable task of mopping a goddamn bridge.

Now…I wonder what events could transpire, that could necessitate the need for a bridge, of all goddamn things, to be mopped. I can think of a reason. Several reasons. Weird what happens when train wrecks collide. But I digress.

Yeah…obstacles, obstacles, obstacles. Not that there aren’t some fucks sitting back and saying, “it’s win/win” while spinning opportunity and opportunities.

Like seeks like.

That's what just popped into my head.

Calm seeks calm.

Calamity seeks calamity.

Hmmmm....the name "John Walsh" just popped up.

For anyone not residing in the USA, or those too young to know…look up a show called “America’s Most Wanted” and “Adam’s Law” while searching for “John Walsh” for some background.

Anyway…yeah…these girls and their legs. Both right knees, right shins, right feet, right thighs, left hips, left feet, left mid-back… appear to be in some distress. I dunno why they aren’t walking right in the middle of that avenue so that they can avoid having to avoid those obstacles…but these ARE women we are talking about…and we all know…that women…are dumb.

I mean, that one is on a fucking cellphone for chrissakes.

Who walks on a fucking bridge while talking on a cellphone? What if she were to walk over the edge of that bridge and fall into the water because she wasn’t paying attention?!?!?!? Stupid bitch got what she deserved. Now she is gonna die from some skanky disease because of exposure to that nasty-assed water that she could have avoided if she had taken an Uber-Powered auto-driving cab. If only she had an iPhone instead of Android. Stupid bitch is prolly on a fucking outdated Blackberry.



Q: Why aren’t they stupid enough to date me?

A: COME ON EVOLUTION/DE-EVOLUTION!!! Work thy magic for me!!!!


Yeah…the woman in front has some cool shoes. But so does the woman to the right. But I cringe when thinking about those heels on that bridge. Especially when she has to move over and over again to avoid shit. But what is really on my mind at this point…is…

Q: How in the FUCK does someone obtain a permit to set up shop on a fucking bridge to sell shit?

A: ...

Not that I am opposed to someone plying their wares on a public walkway of any kind…but…they appear to have a monopoly going on there. Must be some sort of protection racket or union that ensures that little man is looked after in protecting their right to a monopoly. Hey! They thought of the idea first. You snooze…you loose.

Anyway…yeah…prolly all kinds of protection and protections happening on that bridge.


Don’t those stupid fucks realize that “getting hit by a bus” is the number one reason for untimely death in the protection racket rings and schools of thought?!?!?!?


/initiate evolutionary change check to see if ....ah fuck it...lost cause...



I wonder who makes those walls? Like…manufactures them? I wonder if they are in any unions and/or trade groups, professional associations, etc.?


A: ...

Sorry, but if it’s that important to you, and the damn thing is gonna come down anyway, why not treat it with some of that TLC that you are espousing it needs? I care what happens to it. I’d like to see it some day. I could stand on that bridge and talk to chicks, maybe pick up a few postcards and a T-Shirt or something.

Q: Does the bus stop on the bridge if a passenger needs to board a bus there?
Q: What if they’ve tried to make it to the next bus stop, but physically cannot make it?

Q: I thought you were big on making exceptions?

Wait…maybe I’m confused. We are hanging on to the past, from the present, while building better…right?

Q: Where?

A: ...

Q: How many gallons of paint were used on painting the street lines and signs and whatever on that street?

A: ...

I wonder how much that paint weighs.

Q: How often is painting/repainting required?

A: ...

Q: Do the design(s) and location(s) ever change with respect to what is painted where?

A: ...

Q: What about the chemical makeup of the paint? Does that ever change?

A: ...

Q: What about the old paint that flakes off…where does it go?

A: ...

Q: Is there an accurate audit-trail as to what paints were used where, when, the amounts, the types, chemical makeup and formulations, etc. etc.?

A: ...

Q: Is that information freely and readily available and free to the public which it serves?

A: ...

Yep. Your government. It is what it is. It’s yours afterall.

So much for these “not my <insert name and/or position and/or title here>” types of placards and signs, eh?


There is NOFUCKINGWAY…that real-estate prices in that area are as such that a fucking souvenir shop can pull in the kind of money required to afford land in that area. Oh wait…it’s technically hovering, and not actually on land…like…terra-firma kind of land. Wait…isn’t there all kinds of legal wranglings with respect to bridges and waterways and shit like that?

Welp…who cares. This fucking asshole is flying in restricted airspace without clearance and prolly is not a properly licensed and certified pilot. Hell…the fucker doesn’t even have a goddamn airplane. Prolly breaking some physical laws. LET’S BUST THIS ASSHOLE FOR BREAKING THE LAWS OF PHYSICS!!! GET HIM AND/OR HER, THEM…OR…WHATEVER!!!

<Malcolm Mclaren Presents Double Dutch.wmv>

Speaking of breaking some physical laws…it would appear that those with super-powers have finally infiltrated professional sports. I mean…that guy punches so fucking fast…you can’t even see it. There ought to be some kind of law. And if there is already some law…the evidence is overwhelming.

BAN HIM!!! (or her) …whatever…just…DO SOMETHING!!! REVENUES MIGHT SUFFER!!!

Or go up...hmmmmmmm....let's talk this over...
<Hey You – The Rock Steady Crew>

So…since we are dealing with permanent and permanence…let’s make a course adjustment in the correct direction…

So…you want your shit to fucking always and forever…stay the same…right?

I'd suggest ice.

Yeah…find a big fucking block of ice, and jump the fuck into it.

I ain’t gonna volunteer to watch your dumb ass to make sure nothing changes, but I may drop in occasionally to check on ya. Maybe see if you’ve changed your mind. But no chance of that, eh? You wanted static and unchanging…and you got it…so…yeah…no changes to be had.

Let’s imagine that you have a kid.

You encourage this kid to become a doctor.

You, are less financially viable than you would like, and want better for you kid, hence…you encourage along the medical path.

Nothing wrong with that

However…your kid is going to inherit a fucking nightmare.

20 years from now, this kid of yours is going to be forced into a corner, where they are required to provide answers for something that they had absolutely nothing to do with.

They had no idea that this kind of shit was going on 20 years ago.

“Fuckin’ A mom…I was only 10 years old at the time…I was playing Minecraft with friends and reading comic books about aliens from outer-space.”

I wasn’t researching hidden research that was protected by proprietary and/or corporate law(s).

No one else knew what they were doing.

Hell…even they weren’t sure what in the fuck they were doing.

They had no idea as to the long-term effects of these experimental technologies.

Q: You sure your child is up to the challenge?

A: ...

Q: Are you?

A: ...

I’m betting that you are.

I’m with ya.

I’m cheering you on.

Not so sure about some of the tinkering that is going to require your child to walk that path, which is going to require you to walk it with them…but that remains to be seen, eh?

I have faith…that if your child and you indeed have to walk that path…that there is a reason and reasons…reason and reasons that you have been chosen to walk it…that there is hope.


Yeah…I kinda went off at CFrank Davis’ blog the other day. And I realize that much of what Frank says is kinda tongue-in-cheek stuff that is sometimes written with the intent of getting a reaction. I see nothing wrong with that, but yeah…all kinds of shit wrong with that. Primarily, the thought of using the same modes and methods to oppose something that is using modes and methods that is generating opposition.

I understand that kind of thinking tho. I’m not fond of thinking that way, but then again I’m a lazy fuck who doesn’t like thinking at all. Too much work. Too much hassle. Let the Pros and prose handle this. Wait…prose is me. I’m all plain and stupid…uneducated and uncertified. What was I talking about?

Oh yeah....raising an army to fight an army.

Pro-Tip: I’d watch the groin and shins if I were you. Nothing like an expected leggy to defeat a well armed army.

Yeah…Frank imbeds some interesting thoughts in his writings when he isn’t being a frothed mouth lunatic about anti-smoking. Lots off cool stuff to ponder and think about. Even if it’s just for fun. But then again…why isn’t figuring shit out fun? I think it’s fun. Not an opinion shared by very many…but…yeah or whatever.

<Haysi Fantayzee – John Wayne is big Leggy 1982>

That’s all I have for now.

Hope all of that bullshit makes sense, and that you are in no way as confused as I am.

I mean…yeah…sometimes I may “lead-on” that I am a shade more confused than I actually am…but I have my reasons for that.

I am not looking for answers for me.

I am looking for that which I can pass on.

Anything for me, and me alone, outside of the joy of the ride itself, does me no good.

Sometimes, there’s lots of data to ponder in such cases…sometimes, not so much.

I gots no answers.

Q: Is my “looking” not good enough?

A: I dunno either /me shrugs

I do work for you afterall.


It’s much more difficult to parse a person and their life than some might think.

I’m thankful for the opportunity to help when and where I can.


So finally…to Leg Iron’s Underdog Bites Upwards blog. I’ve had the pleasure of the opportunity to speak with someone directly this week via Twitter, and I gotta give a shout-out to her writing.


I had no idea that other people ever wrote articles at UBU, but I’ve no idea why I would know…so…yeah. She pointed me in the direction of some of her writing, and it’s pretty damn good. I liked it anyway. “Very observant and relatable” is how I would describe it. A state of being that is shared. Almost that “voice speaking to the wind as if no one is listening” type of writing, that I personally enjoy. A story to be told. Doesn’t matter if that story “should be told” or “needs to be told”…it’s beyond that kind of nonsense…it is being told…and that’s all that matters.

Lot’s of people I’ve stumbled across in my travels who are like this.

It’s a pleasure and joy to have been afforded the opportunity/opportunities.

Just remember, I’m gonna piss you off at some point, and we’ll prolly get along just fine.

Or something.

Anyway…we appear to have a common interest in travel, music, writing, nail polish, and some Scottish dude.

^Brothers Moving “Minnie The Moocher”^


X: Never heard that before.

Cade: Anything in particular?

X: We’ll get to me later.

Cade: Sounds ominous.

X: We’ll see.

Cade: lolz…k.

X: …

^The Raveonettes “Love in a Trashcan” Music Video^


^Armin van Buuren feat. Justine Suissa – burned with desire (Rising Star Vocal Mix)^


*/squints… Cade’s technicoloured yawn? Eww, Clicky, WTF?!*


Missive From ‘Merica: Let the Pain Take The Strain

It has been something of a painful week for me, Dear Reader…


I either slept funny, or in a draught ‘cos when I woke last Sunday, both my neck and right shoulder were in blooming pain. Then I mowed the grass…


*I know, Clicky… The garden was a bit overgrown…*

I can’t tell you how bad it felt when I woke on Monday…


*Hmm… right facial expression, Clicky, but I wasn’t moving anything like that fast…*

…and I certainly wasn’t fit for work…


Fortunately I was able to take the week off as holiday…


*Very ‘andy, Clicky… I’m new there – I don’t wanna be labelled a sicknote… /pulls face… It was my own fault for aggravating it… /thinks… And I got to do nothing which is pretty much what I use holiday for anyway…*

By Thursday, strong painkillers and rest (Thoughtful Man has been an absolute rock) had done the trick and I was at least able to get dressed to go vote. Plus never underestimate the healing benefits of receiving ‘good karma’ or a surprise gift in the post…

Cade had written the following missive but held back sending it until today. It’s…




*Okay but it’s probably too late for that… Go sort out a Song for the end and we’ll just let Dear Reader find out what’s in Cade’s missive for themself…*


Sup y0?

Tis’ Saturday June 10th. I wrote most of this bullshit below earlier in the week. Not that you care, because no one is reading this. So yeah…let’s get the fuck on with it, eh? Skip the sex, and straight to the foreplay.

OH! And if there are some words missing, my keyboard is dying/low batteries. I noticed in one of my reposts this week that a lot of words were missing. I type pretty fast, so when the keyboard cuts out because of these low batteries, I don’t always notice.

Here go.
I mean…We go.

I mean…Here we.

I mean…Here we go.

^No Remorse – Metallica – Kill ’em All – Studio Version – HD^

I just wrote a new song. It’s called…”I Just Wrote A New Song.”

It goes a little something like this…

I just wrote a new song…

It’s about 4 hours long.

Just kidding. I mean…not really, because I did write that. Just need a few hours to work on it.

^Depeche Mode – Blasphemous Rumours [Flashghost]^

The Amazing...

“Do Nothing Machine.”

Sounds … relevant … to someone … I know.

It's amazing what a little nothing can do.
^The amazing Do Nothing Machine at the Museum of Craftsmanship^

I didn’t plan on writing the previous whatever. I figured the one before that would be my last. So maybe you can empathize with what is transpiring right here and now.

Not that there is some cumulative confusion with continuing to write, when I thought that I had just about wrapped up these efforts. Because here I am…

writing more shit 

…simply because I have been inspired by events to do so.

^Cocteau Twins – Melonella^

I blanked an entire post on my own blog last night by foolishly editing what I had already published. Hit the “undo” button one too many times I guess…

at which point

…I guess the automated portion of Blogger said something akin to


as my entire post vanished from the edit window…

at which point

…I can only imagine that the auto-save portion chimed in with…


By the time it occurred to me that maybe hitting the “redo” button might be a valid and prudent course, I had already clicked the “preview” button … and was now staring a completely blank page.

I swear to God…the page was so devoid of anything, that the thought of tumbleweeds and whistling winds somehow suddenly manifesting on-screen would have been a welcome addition.

I kept eyeballing the publishing toolbar, and wondering why there was no cancel function.

I mean…this is a published article.

Auto-save….it’s a pickle.

I won’t say a sour pickle, because I personally love sour pickles.

It’s the sweet ones that I hate.

My gut tightened…I shrugged…scowled…whispered “oh well”…and went to bed.

I slept quite a bit and quite well.

Even took a nap this afternoon and slept quite well too.

The more and better I sleep…the more tired I get.

/me is weird like that
^Metallica: Creeping Death & Blackened (MetOnTour – Oakland, CA – 2016)^

Quite the storm overhead right now. Blue and white on one side, dark grey and black on the other…lightly raining in the middle. The smell of rain…loaded with that sweet smell of fresh dirt.

I was coming indoors for a moment to grab my binoculars since I had seen something floating in the sky to the southeast that did not appear to be either aircraft nor drone…prolly a balloon…but I wanna see it/watch it since it is riding the leading edge of the storm. As I entered the hallway that leads to “my” room, I notice whatshername is hoovering in my oldest son’s doorway…and as soon as she sees me, her conversation with my son ceases, and she looks at me.

The silence is almost deafening, but I avert my eyes to the floor, continue my journey as I now change plan and decide whatever it is can just float the fuck on without worry of me attempting to observe it further. I am just about to pass her when she says…

Did you notice that branch that came down after the last storm?

I think to myself…yes I did see it because you pointed it out to me…wait…what? Why is she asking about a branch that has been on the ground for a coupla days? Tree-limb pickup isn’t until Thursday, this is Sunday, and we have another storm right on top of us.

Cade: Ummm…I thought I did. (I musta had quite a puzzled look on my face)

This is a different one.

She walks away from my son’s door, he hasn’t said a word during this entire time…

Will you take a look at it…it hasn’t come all the way down.

As she proceeds towards the front door, I turn to follow her, and catch the shadow of a foot out of the corner of my eye and see his door start to close, followed by what is not quite a slam.

I follow her outside, my mind filling with confusion as to where in the hell she is headed since there are no sizeable trees out front that would necessitate concern over their branches. When she makes a left towards the east, my heart sinks as I simultaneously raise my head and see the branch of current pertinent and timely interest.

That one. Do you think it will hit my car?

The branch she is referencing is still well attached to a tree that is deep in the neighbor’s yard, even tho the branch itself is quite close to whatshername’s driveway. A quick scan reveals that the neighbor’s cars are gone, and I swallow hard.

Cade: Maybe. Just move your car out into the street?

I was thinking that, considering the circumstances, this would be the best course until the storm passes.

Cade: Maybe just park it out in the street until you can talk to “neighbor’s name withheld” as to what to do about it?

Whatshername continues to survey the distances and angles of potential motion if and when the branch were to become dislodged during the coming tempest. But I can tell from where I am standing, that the branch appears to still be quite well attached since it has not fallen. This branch is going to require a saw, if for no other reason than to keep from damaging the tree further. She then turns to me…

Couldn’t you just give it a good yank?

Cade: You do whatever you want. But I’m not going on to someone else’s property while they aren’t home to try and pull a tree limb out of one of their trees.

With that, I immediately turn and retreat inside as I stumble around what I consider the best course, and in desperation look for any potentials that I may have missed. As I open the door, I notice whatshername is hot on my heels…

Well…I’m going to pick up your daughter from work.

I cringe.
^Depeche Mode – World In My Eyes (Cicada Mix)^

I admire her moxy. What I detest is her defiance, when and where that defiance seems to manifest itself. Prolly because I am very similar at times, I just approach such situations a little differently.

Oh! You want me to do this this way, otherwise…you are gonna kick my ass?

Try this one on for size then.

I ain’t gonna do it at all…my way, not your way…nor any other way, and we’ll consider that “my way”…k?

Bring on this asskicking you didn’t plan for motherfucker.

I can take it.

Can you?
^Deadmau5 – gg^


Ever won a fight by not even throwing a punch?

I have.

Many actually.

A guy had been picking on me and tempting and taunting me forever, and no matter how many times I warned him, pleaded with him, whatever…that this course was not in his best interests…he kept it up. Accusing me of trying to talk shit without “backing it up” by actually fighting. I run tho too. I kept ducking him forever. He almost got me once at school when he enlisted some friends to assist him with trapping me in a certain area of the school and then dragging me outside.

They hadn’t considered that I work best under the pressure of the moment. I did escape and evade them, and I damn near escaped them permanently until I made a wrong turn…at which point, a classmate of mine intervened. Lucky me. But not long after…they cornered me again…outdoors where I had nowhere to run.

Mainly because I never saw the first punch. The first punch came after a blindside push that knocked me to the ground.

Upon hitting the ground, getting up was not an option because he was immediately on top of me punching me. I curled up in a ball and took it. I dunno how many times he punched me, but he worked back and forth between the body and attempts at punching my obscured face with no luck.

Cade: Don’t punch my head.

There was warning tone in my voice.

A crowd had formed around us, and there was a roar of laughter that was kinda..split. One of his friends shouted in a whining-child taunting tone…

Don’t…punch my poor little head!

I immediately fired back…

Cade: You’re next.

There was a roar of “OOOOOHHHH’s” and laughter that ripped through the crowd, that I could only imagine was quite large, and getting larger.

Doesn’t look like there will be anything left.

Cade: I’m warning you…don’t punch my head!

The guy that was pounding on me resumed his punching attack that had been interrupted by my perceived smartassery, and he continued his assault working back and forth between the body and head, with an occasional attempt at the face as I rocked my head back and forth trying to avoid these.

^Roberto Capuano – Drop (Original Mix) [ANALYTICTRAIL]^

He started in on my kidneys, I guess since they were so readily available, and after quite a few of these punches…I thought to myself “I wonder how many of these I can take, and how much blood am I gonna piss tonight?” Still, attacking the kidneys is a good sign he’s becoming tired.

He even stood up a time or two, keeping me between his legs, and kicked me. I guess out of frustration at a perceived lack of progress, but I was already well aware that my body was gonna be covered in bruises tomorrow and for quite some time after.

Then…I heard the first snap.

I don’t recall which hand it was, but he had taken a shot at the direct center of the back of my head near the neck, and as I felt the tingles of the response of the nerves in my neck transmit their confusing messages down the length of my back…I heard a snap that didn’t belong to me.

I could feel his body relax somewhat, and I could tell that he had withdrawn this hand that recoiled in pain.


There must have been confusion in the crowd as to what I meant by that. But he immediately began to hit me with the other hand, then I felt his bodyweight shift again. This dumb motherfucker is gonna hit me with the hand he just broke to check and see if it is really broken…which he did. The wrist folded under the force of the blow, almost like he was poking the side of my face with the nub of an arm where the hand had been detached.

^Colonel Abrams & Boards of Canada – Trapped (Hell Interface edit)^

He never could get to that fury stage, and there were only a few more punches with opposing hand before…again…


Even I groaned on this one, and he almost immediately removed himself from where is was perched atop my back. Yikes…that one musta hurt. I stood up in a flash, seemingly unaffected by the beating that had ensued up to that point….and there was a “WOOOOOOOO!!!!” that ran through the crowd. Almost as if everyone was thinking…



I knew that he was in agony, and it had not yet become apparent to those watching that he had broken both of his hands (actually, one hand and one wrist). But there was a hush among the throng as to exactly what they had just witnessed, and what was transpiring now. They had just wanted blood, and now, they had no fucking clue what in the fuck was going on nor what they wanted, nor what to do.

He had begun to whimper a bit, and I could tell that he was fighting back the tears brought on by what must have been some terrible pain, as well as the confusion of what he should do at this point. I shot him a glare and noticed the confusion in his eyes, shot the crowd a glare and noticed the confusion in theirs…I left and went home. I cried all the way there. Inside. Not outwardly. My fury is too well versed and too well honed to show itself outwardly in a way that most could understand.

Regret took over, and the tears began to flow.

^Deadmau5 – Templar^

Not a mark on me. That’s what they would think. And they’d be right, because they were only looking at my face. But I knew better.

Sure enough, the next morning I was covered in bruises and scratches and cuts on my body. Not really…but I bruise slowly if at all. But where there were no marks, there was only pain and a wondering of what in the fuck transpired there to make it hurt so bad, yet there is no evidence of any damage except the pain. I didn’t want to go back to school…ever. I had no idea what waited for me. I could not have fathomed what actually waited for me at school.

^Metallica Escape lyrics^

Looks and a lot of them. Clearing a path, for me? Looking at me with what I can only imagine was an equally confused look that I returned.

For the first time, I walked these crowded hallways in a high school of 5,000+ kids, unimpeded.

What the FUCK?!?!?

I usually had to skirt the walls and wait for those small gaps created by the normal kids as they proceed unimpeded down the center of the hallway. These gaps usually are dependent on how many friends are in tow within a certain group, and vary at different times of the day depending on classes attended and overall level of popularity. But this was very strange to me. Not a word was said to me directly…but obviously the scuttlebutt had already so permeated some structure of communication that I was completely oblivious to.

“He won that fight yesterday by not even throwing a punch”…I heard from behind me. They continued…“you should have been there…he stood up and started yelling…” the conversation went out of earshot as I quickened my pace to my first class.

This is not happening…

this is not happening…


I made my way into my first class, which was luckily sparsely populated because I was early. I put my books down, put my head on top of them and covered my face. Terror. Sheer terror. As the students filed in, I kept my face down. I kept my face down long after the bell had rung and class started.

Just...don't cry...just don't cry.

Teacher: Cade, I’m gonna need you to raise your head up and pay attention to class.

I eventually raised my head in obedience, and you coulda heard a pin drop in that room. The teacher gave me the most reassuring tight-lipped non-smile I have ever been privy to. She then proceeded with her responsibilities. I hope that I paid attention. But I have a sneaking suspicion that my mind was elsewhere.

^Deadmau5 – Bounce (Original Mix)^

I can only imagine the confusion as to how this wimpy stoner kid who didn’t weigh 140 pounds soaking wet, could have possibly endured a beating by a well known football player who was twice his size…let alone won…let alone win without throwing a single punch. Nevermind that there is not a mark on him. It took a while for some bruises to come in. I didn’t want to talk about it.

Sometime later, I was approached in the school hallway by a guy who was known for being the toughest guy in the entire school. He also just so happened to be a good friend of the guy who wailed on me, and was there that day watching the events. It scared me, because he and yet another of their friends had constantly picked on me the entire time I had been in high school, and I figured that these activities were about to resume. But he simply said to me…

You know…anyone can take a beating. But it takes a real man to dish one out.

He turned and started to walk away, as if he just wanted to say his piece then bail. But I fired back…

Cade: Does it matter how?

He stopped in his tracks…turned towards me, and said…

Yeah…it does.

He turned and walked away.

This next song sucks btw.

Not to change the subject…but I think I figured out a food issue.

Flour Tortillas.

Cheap, filling, easy to carry, and I like them.

AND…they can double as toilet paper in a tight spot.

Cleaning up with the same item you ate the day before. Lolz

Which reminds me…just gotta remember to use them in one capacity or the other, and not both.

^Lonely – Drum Beat (Original Mix)^


Just a mental note I’ve made myself here.

Carry on citizens.
^ABR : Depeche Mode – Dangerous Dub Cut Mix (Ahmed Benny Remix 2017)^

Sometime later, a certain someone approached me and asked me…

How did you do that?

Cade: For my entire life, I’ve survived being beaten on repeatedly by a man who spends the entirety of his days pounding and molding steel and metals to his will. I told you…there’s not a beating I cannot withstand. So….I can easily withstand any beating that someone has lined up for me over their own pride and popularity because they figure I’m easy prey.

And yep…as I feared…those events pretty much ended this guy’s football career. He left the school after not making the football team, because they offered him a role as a trainer since he didn’t make the team. I guess he felt that was insult on top of injury, and changed schools.

^deadmau5 – Phantoms Can’t Hang^

I’m sure there are those who would say


And they’d be right.

I wasn’t where they were, and I didn’t see what they saw.

I was busy being where I was.

They weren’t in my head as I anticipated every single move made, and adjusted accordingly, while continuing to plan my own survival.

They had no idea that I never planned to jump up start dishing out what I had just taken. I simply figured that he would tire, quit, declare himself the victor, then I could pack up my lumps and go home.

They couldn’t get their head wrapped around the fact that I was mostly relaxed during all this…until the bones started to break…at which point, my fury became roused in a more tangible manner.

When I eventually did start to bruise about a week later, one of the worst mistakes I made was lifting my shirt and showing the bruises to someone who asked. It only added to the mystery of how I had managed to take such a beating, and also, hide it so well. Years of experience in hiding bruises should have taught me better.

NEVER show the marks. But this was someone I trusted…so…yeah…big mistake. People would just randomly grab my shirt in the hallway and lift it to see if it was true. Almost as if to say…“you’d never know he was covered in bruises, till you actually see them.”

But even then, it was as if they were thinking “how the fuck do you go on as if nothing happened? How the fuck are you functioning at all?”

What choice do I have?

Plus…as far as I was aware…that particular beating was quite lopsided as far as I knew. I never threw a punch, but absorbed quite a few.

Hide the beating in the places that can’t normally show.

Abusers know this.


It works both ways.

I can become what you are any day of the week.

But you can never be me.


Yeah…kind of a snotty attitude to have, eh?

Or is it just a snotty attitude to espouse?

God forbid the survivors have an opinion.

It might…just…not…sit too well…with the observers.

^deadmau5 – Raise Your Weapon^

Yep…an easy target. No way in hell that I could ever even attempt to describe the more sordid shit that I’ve survived. Yeah…it gets worse. But I have to temper the telling of tales. And this isn’t about “letting sleeping dogs lie” either. If a tale needs be told…I tell it. I figure that’s the only reason I survived…to tell the tale, if, and when, and where needed. Not to satiate some sadist’s desire(s) via proxy (even tho, even sadists are just as human as the rest of us), but rather to encourage other survivors like myself to keep plugging. Keep going.

Keep going…

Keep going…

Keep going…

^Deadmau5 – Faxing Berlin (1080p) || HD^

It’s confusing when “the order of the day” is surviving that day, and yet all we perceive is a world waiting to beat on us. Um…take the beatings as they come. You spend 5 minutes dealing with an impossible problem that eventually gets solved, and the remaining 7 hours and 55 minutes lamenting the previous nightmare and it’s foreboding as to the nightmares to come. Then you wait …

and wait …

and wait …

and wait …

until the next nightmare finally shows up. Is it any wonder that you think your life is full of nightmares and darkness?

I mean…look at it like this…we spend 5 days looking forward to one particular part of one day, and two days dreading one day.

Not such a bad margin, eh?

Seize the day peeps.

Or not.

WhatTHEfuckEVER floats you goddamn boat or whatever.

^Deadmau5 – Cthulhu Sleeps (HQ)^



I promised Roob some pics, but I just noticed my phone is dead. I wonder if I’ll come through.

^Fluke – Setback^

cYa | cFa

^Meat Beat Manifesto – Prime Audio Soup (Vegetarian Soup By Boards Of Canada)^


*Better now, Clicky? Good, okay play the Song…*