Tuesday, February 16, 2010
I’m writing this for a few people. One is a man at work named Joe whom I respect very much and enjoy religious conversations with. We often get cut off mid conversation, so rarely do I get to elaborate on one point or another.
I’m also writing this for my children. Were something to happen to me before I could have this discussion with them, I would want some sort of document stating my beliefs and convictions so that they could better understand how I viewed the world and God.
Lastly, I’m writing this for anyone who finds the subject matter of others personal beliefs interesting. Sadly, I don’t think theres much of a market for discussing God, at least not God as I see Him. Sure, there are plenty of books, both fiction and non, that profess to offer insight. Many of these works have merit. Most don’t.
So, read on if you want to know my beliefs. If you want to pass, I fully understand.
(Continued)
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Since someone asked, a little note all about wonderful, fascinating me, my family, and our State of Affairs.
People joke about how early I go to bed. Usually around six in the evening. I am the ‘early to bed, early to rise’ archetype; still waiting on the wise part to kick in.
I leave the house around 5 am. It’s still dark most of the year. I bundle up in the winter because my Dodge Dakota doesn’t have heat. It does, however, have nearly 200K miles, and it shows. The ‘good’ car, a ’97 Lumina, went to my wife since I’d rather be cold/hot than my kids.
Some days at work I drive a truck. Those are the good days. Other days I work a shovel. Those are most days, at least lately. I work for The County, I am here to help.
Depending on the boss and location, most times we don’t start working till 6:30, and if the weather is real bad we try and wait it out. Sometimes we work in the pouring rain or blistering heat, though, because things simply need to get done.
The roads will not build themselves. The Gods will not save us.
(Continued)
The Manifesto of Mike McLarty (If I Was Emperor)
There seems to be a lot of confusion as to my political stances and various viewpoints. In order to clarify my positions, I present you with this document which, hopefully, states in plain language what I would do were I to become Emperor for Life of the United Sates.
(Continued)
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Share with me
All the details of your life
How you used to love your wife
Just how fucked up you got
If your co-worker is hot
(Continued)
Monday, November 23, 2009
I tried to find
A song for you today
Turned the dial
But no one could say
(Continued)
The road we had been working on had seemed an eternal monster whose appetite for asphalt would never be quenched. The sun, ever a taskmaster, had been particularly cruel that day. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: if you find yourself on a road crew in Alabama during a hot summer day then something in your life has gone wrong.
(Continued)
Jimi Hendrix
Freddy Mercury
My Grandma
And that teacher who was nice to me
(Continued)
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
It’s just a bed, a sterile and thin model similar to those you see in hospitals. It’s not quite as imposing. It’s like a tiny version of a bully. “Don’t take me too seriously, pal,” it seems to be saying.
Still, it takes up the room, if not in size then in magnitude. It looks cold.
It was delivered yesterday. I’m glad I wasn’t here when it was.
(Continued)
“Everyone’s got a tough childhood.” Big Mack said behind his beer. “Mama didn’t hug me enough. Uncle Chester touched my wee-wee. I didn’t feel valley-dated.”
He paused to take a mammoth swig.
Whatthefuckevah.” he scoffed.
I nodded. I didn’t do much talking around Big Mack. Talking could lead to misinterpretation. Misinterpretation could lead to broken body parts. Being as I liked the shape and position of all my appendages just fine, Iwe rarely spoke. Or more honestly, I rarely spoke. But I did a lot of listening. I had never even worked up the courage to ask Big Mack why he was called Big Mack. Was it because he was a large man of Irish descent? Did he eat at McDonalds a lot? None of my business. Around guys like him, and me, questions weren’t appreciated too much. Certainly neither of us would want questions about where we’d been earlier that night, or what had happened to a certain Labor Rep who had asked the wrong group of associates for a handout.
“Me?” He asked, apparently, to his beer mug, “If I had a shit childhood it’s because I was a shit child. Never gave a fuck abouts no ones or nutthin’ or schoolin’ or shit else. Liked getting fucked up, nailing cunt. Sure, I went to St. Paddys on Sunday long wit’ da rest of ‘em.”
(Continued)