Reflections of a Government Plumber

I'm trying to take life more serious. I just "celebrated" my 34th birthday a few weeks ago and I realize I'm right dab smack in the middle of this shit stain that's panning out to be my life and I don't have a whole helluva lot to show for it. I'm at that age where I should have accomplished or mastered something by now. I should at least be good at something by now. I'm sitting here thinking about what I'm good at and how I've made that work for me over my adult life.

Drinking alcohol. I've have so many drunken stories and I've been piss faced drunk so many times that if it were something to be proud of then I'd be proud as fuck right now. I'd be prouder than a new father, prouder than a little leaguer hitting his first home-run, prouder than that moron who can barely read but tried really hard and studied every night for a month and he got a C on his report card. I'd be so happy, I'd be shitting and puking all over myself which is exactly how some of my drunken stories end.

Plumbing. Let me be more specific, government plumbing. There's a big difference. A real plumber knows his craft inside and out, he's not only knowledgeable but efficient. He has to be efficient or he doesn't make any money and if you don't make money then you’re not a plumber, you're a dick with a wrench. A government plumber (a good one like me) will eventually figure out the problem and be able to fix it half-assed. Half-assed means that it's fixed but either looks like shit (compared to the real plumber) or the correct materials were not used. I've fixed stretches of leaking galvanized steel water piping with pieces of fucking PVC pipe. That sentence alone would make any real plumber's heart stop.

Making people think I'm crazy. I'm on a streak of about 2000 days where I haven't been able to go out in public without at least one person thinking I'm a fucking crazy person. It never fails. Just yesterday I was standing in line at the grocery store. It was busy and there were only two cashiers working. The store manager was "directing traffic" telling which customers which line to go stand in. I was told to go to line three even though I could clearly see that the people in line eight were going to be done before the people in line three. I do what I'm told and go stand in line three. Not one second later the cashier in line eight yells "Next". I'm already standing in line three like an idiot with his dick in his hand and the person behind me in line looks at me and I sort of give them the "go ahead" nod. Then a new line opens up and the traffic director tells the person behind me to go to the new line! That person, god bless their soul, looks at me and give the same "go ahead" head nob but I’m clearly irritated and I keep glaring at the oblivious manager to let her know that I know that she fucked up. Now, here's where I go crazy. Another "Next" gets yelled and that stupid fucking traffic director is nowhere to be seen. The lady who was next sees me in a huff and says "Go ahead, you should be next." Goddamn right I'm next but ohhhh noooo I was told to stand right fucking here so I tell the lady really shitty like "Go ahead. I'll just stand here like an idiot because that lady can't do her job." Yikes, that was a bit harsh. The lady insists, "No you go ahead." She had this look on her face like "you sad sorry man" and off she goes to check out heaven. The guy right behind her pulls his cart up and I say "I bet you'll be going next. I've been standing for about an hour!" He just sort of smiles. It's the kind of smile you give a homeless man when you toss a quarter into his cup. I know he and everyone else in line thought I was crazy. Well, maybe not bat-shit crazy but defiantly a cock sucking jerk. A cock sucking jerk who gets pissed off for having to stand in line an extra 30 seconds. Who gives a fuck? I wasn’t even in a hurry. It was just the principle of the matter.

It’s the principle of the matter that's always getting me worked up about one thing or another. I won't stand for even the slightest social injustice such as giving someone my "Next". I've come to the conclusion I'm fucked either way and I'm ending this post not because I've ran out of things to say but because no one reads the fucking thing so who gives a shit. And if someone does happen to stumble upon this dear God I wouldn't want them to see too many words and scare them away. Reading something might distract them from their game of Words with Friends or jacking off to some sick porno where the guy spits in the girls face (or her mouth. Gross!) or fingering their butt holes or whatever it is sick perverted assholes to their bodies. I'm all for it. Stick the entire room up your ass for all I care. That's what everyone should mean when they say "Go fuck yourself". It should mean, go put the entire contents of one room of your house up and inside of your butt cavity.





And here is the rest of it.