I have a cookie

It brings me back to you. It makes me feel safe. And ever so secure.
Pop
I sat on the rug
Wham
jus biding(bideing)(Christ, English) my Senator Joe
zap
when in from the rain
came
Joni in pain
I have to stay up all night tonight. 12 hours and watch a line go by underwater. Its my day job. It pays the mortgage. It pays the child support, It pays the grocery bill. It bought my guitars, amps, (well part of the inheritance money bought the musical equipment) and pays the electricity bill and the gasssssssssssssssss billz. I have to listen to people complain that my life is better than theirs. They dont do this directly however. Its always indirectly. I chew gum and they want a piece. Like Im the fuckin Bank of America and can supply everyone with chewing gum. Most of them smoke cigarettes and when whey come into my work station they light up and relax. I had an heart attack a couple years ago so they figure that I need the smoke to mellow me out. I tell some of them to get the fuck out. I am that rude. But they dont leave they just laugh and say "oh you dont mean it." I fuckin mean it. I hate people. They need shit continually, and they want more, and they want it now, and they don't say thank you unless it makes them look like theyre socially wonderful. (How's this for raw cynicisim?) Jesus died for people. What a dope. Ahhhhhhhhh
I like the people in the African American Church. I like my kid. I like my wife. I like icecream but I cant eat it anymore. diabetes. heart disease, arthritis, bills. Suicide seems like a great idea sometimes. Im in therapy. I pay a shrink to listen to me and come up with solutions. I tell him shit like Im telling you now. I cant stand analyzing shit anymore. I just dont fucking care. I want to blow off everyone and live in the woods. Lock the door. Throw away the Tee Vee, the computer, the medicine. This is obiously post vacation depression. I've agreed to work more overtime. They think I dont pull my weight at work in the overtime department.And believe me Im fucking fat. So I agreed to pull my weight in overtime hours for a few months.
I used to cut scrap on straight days. I was kind of the company joke. I may still be, but I didnt care. I worked 6 to 2:30 days, and sometimes on saturday. Any shit job that came up I got and I got shit from my bosses everyday. I just blew it off, thought about music and sex, and cut scrap. Well when I hired on, I was a radiographer (industrial) and I became a level II Ultrasonic inspector. I wound up in the Lab, up to my ass in alligators, and when I fucked up a mill certificate, due to inadequate training, I got booted to the yard. (Storage area, where forklifts run pipe all around loading train cars and trucks) I did shit jobs for seven years cause they all thought I was wayyyyy wierd. Then in 2000 I got into an argument with my 'team leader' and wound up BACK in the Mill as "yep" and Ultrasonic inspector. I have to work 12 hour shifts. but I only work 15 or 16 days a month. and half of that at night. I have an heated/air conditioned unit although its extremely dirty and filled with 'mill scale' it smells like a sewer because the water used to test the pipe is recycled and gets stagnent. Its also attached to the only two bathrooms in that end of the factory and some of the people who work there must also graze when they arent at work cause when they shit it smells like a stockyard in my unit. And I sit there for 12 hours straight (I eat a sandwich at the 6 1/2 hour mark for my break) I watch a weld pass under a stream of water and between two or four ultrasonic shoes and when theres a defect in the pipe, lights go off and a horn sounds. I mark the thing sometimes cutting samples with a gas torch or a plasmaarc for destructive tests and proof that what I'm sayin is what is there. without fail between the hours of 2 and 4 am or pm it doesnt matter I get sleepy/hypnotized and have to put cold water on my face or get up (yes I'm seated) and walk around. I drink bottles of water all night and bet up to piss pretty regularly. At my age and with my health problems, I get stiff joints quickly so the walk around the corner to the urinal sometimes is slow and painful. All of this buys me a 100,000.00 house in a nice neighborhood, but one that need tons of maintenence. I bought the house because of the location. Trees, nobody right in your window, in fact I live next door to my doctor. And he's downhill from me. I can roll my heart attacked ass down the hill and ring his doorbell for CPR. Cool eh? People at work want my job. They say its better than their job. Everyday I get some fucker whining that they want to be trained at my job, that they started to be trained at it and then they got pulled off...it never occurs to them that they might just SUCK at setting the shit up and doing the job. You do after all have to do more than just fucking sit there. They just are pissed that an old stupid fuck like myself gets to sit in the airconditioning every shift and listen to the radio. Well fuck. Ya cant really. Pipes are clanging, machines are spinning, conveyors are whining, saws are cutting, bundlers are bundling, etc....Fucking people are whining.
My father hated me and told me so while he was alive. I stood for everything he hated. Long hair, disrespect, rock and roll. He was a bureaucrat. He wanted me to be one and when I got thrown out of the Army in 1970, (for the good of the service) He rarely spoke to me unless it was necessary. But once the tole me I should become a preacher. They get lots of money for just talking. It was a racket you couldnt beat. He told me about my great aunts, (grand aunts) and how they were holy rollers. They go to a healing service on Sunday and throw away their eyeglasses cause Jesus healed their blinding eyes and then on Monday Uncle Sam Hitchcock would have to take them back down to the revival tent to fish through the pile of glasses to find em again cause the healing wouldnt take. My father told me that he used to have to stay with em (there were three old ladies and Uncle Sam) and in the middle of the night Ethyl would yell..."Sam theres a burgler!" and Sam would say, "there aint no burgler" but he'd still have to get up and look anyway.All that paranoia made my old man afraid. He told me he'd think..."Christ! what if there was a burglar?" But that I should become a preacher cause Im a con man and I would fit right in.
Im an idiot. Im a reject from everything. Im an attempt at a person. Im an attempt at a life. But just like there are millions of bacteria and millions of galaxies, I have my day. Its shortening up and soon I'll be no more. I never did anything heroic, I never did anything henious. But Im certain I was capable of either, and could have. I guess I never had a family until this one. Me my wife and daughter. My wife and I have been together for 16 years now and I like her company, and my daughter is going to be 13 soon and is changing but we can still communicate. I have music. I play music, I listen to music, I live music, I admire good musicians wherever I find them. I try to support good music, and I buy cd's. I heard a band in Milwaukee last summer at Summerfest, Ecuador Manta. I paid 4 buck more for the CD than the guy wanted and put a good size tip in the suitcase because those fuckers could make fine music. However the CD did not reflect the music of that particular show and although its good, its different. My wife ordered me a pedicure. I gotta go take a shower and get over there.Diabetics have trouble keeping their feet on their bodies and pedicures supposedly help. I guess. Its my first. We'll see.
Bowe