Tuesday, May 28, 2019

Getting the Fuck Out of Here

Jim Rousch

If anyone had told me that I would be moving to the Southern part of the United States, I would fit

them for a straight jacket.   However, that’s exactly where I’m going.

After what has happened to me in the last year, it’s clear that I cannot live in Colorado anymore.  And while I’d LOVE to go back to Los Angeles, I simply haven’t the money to live there.  Where am I going?  Hold on to your grandma’s piss.


I know, huh?  Me,  the Union flagwaver, the                                                                                             staunch Democrat.

Let me tell you what the final straw was
It turns out that my neighbor on my right side                                                                                           could very well possibly be a douchebag                                                                                                   Iraq War moron, because he became very
aggressive with me when it was mentioned it.

What he didn’t like was my screaming late at
night-which is fair enough, since he had kids
asleep.  However, it’s harder for someone
who has traumatic brain injury to
maintain self-control so that they don’t start
start screaming while they look for a pair of
a pair of glasses.  However, that’s where the
land is cheap and everything is else is I don’t
actually know yet.

I’m not wild about living about living in
the land of Trent Lott, but maybe I can
change it just a tad.

To be honest, I don’t give a flying fuck what Iraq “veterans” think because the Iraq War was illegal under the UN charter, there were no weapons of mass destruction, and American soldiers committed a lot of war crimes over there.

So, I annoy my neighbor every morning before I leave because I know what the noise laws and I’m a total dick when pushed.


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