ON THE ROAD 2008: On Getting Caught Checking Out a Woman's Ass, Rich Old Wives and Old Worried Hubbies, & Being Anything But a Gentleman

Behind all their personal vanity, women themselves always have an impersonal contempt for Woman.

- Friedrich Nietzsche

NAPLES, Fla. (ZP) -- The old man stood there, staring into the storefront, mouth gaping.

"Good lord, she does this every goddamn year!"

Inside the store a woman looking roughly half his age stood at the register. It took not one or two clerks to bag her purchases but four. In one bag went the pairs of hundred dollar jeans. In another went the boxes of shoes. And in another two or three went the blouses and sundresses and skirts.

He bummed a cigarette as he explained the ritual. His wife was in her early forties, attractive and smart enough to qualify as Wife No. 3. But while his first wife died, and his second was addicted to booze and painkillers, Mrs. Tres was sucking his seventy-year-old moneyed ass dry.

In the bedroom, sure. That's acceptable in the Viagra Age. Suck away. But in the Economic Clusterfuck Age, well, mass consumerism amounts to nothing more than bullshit comfort and protection, an equity line condom full of holes.

"I love her to death," the old man said, not to me but to the storefront. "But that woman's dumb as shit when it comes to understanding that buying for the grandkids comes first."

He adds that, yes, he has a half-dozen grandchildren to shop for and his wife, well, Mrs. Tres just blew an easy three grand without spending a dime on the kids.

Four fucking hours he'd been waiting for her to finish buying for herself. The sales, she said! Never mind the kids! The sales!

He started pacing, told me that the Marlboro he'd just bummed tasted marvelous. First cigarette in 15 fucking years, dammit. Fuck the cardiologists. His wife's greed - yes, he called it greed - would kill him first.

"Son, take my advice and be poor and single."

"Hey, that shit's the reason I don't believe in marriage."

* * * *

TAMPA, Fla. (ZP) -- I wasn't looking to get caught.

But, well, it was a very nice ass, and the way her white linen skirt clung to her as she bent over reminded me of fresh cream atop a cup of hot chocolate.

"You know, that's really rude."

How that woman knew I was checking out her ass, behind her back and bent over packing away her laptop, I'll never know. But, yes, I was caught red handed.

And I don't know what I was thinking when I responded. I probably should've just shuffled on around behind the newspapers.

Instead, something just came out of my mouth, an audible demon between my teeth, escaping.

"Your dress holds you well."

Huh? What the flying monkey fuck does that mean?

It was a nice ass, sure, and the dress definitely complimented her rather curvy frame. But women wear dresses. Dresses have no arms or hands, so simple white fabric cannot hold anything (bras notwithstanding).

"Um, thanks. Bought it in Puerto Rico last week."

And with that she rolled her eyes and wandered out towards the departure gates. At least, well, I'd been caught in the airport and not, say, in a church or at work or at a wedding by the bride.

I don't blush often. But as she walked away her hips did, indeed, seem to sway a bit more than they had before. I saw her reach for her phone, dial, and turn to glance at the ass-staring freak once more.

And she winked.

Good God. One day I'm going to get slapped in an airport.

* * * *

BONITA SPRINGS, Fla. (ZP) -- She'd left me scores of messages, all over the place, asking - begging - me to get a hold of her as soon as possible. It was an emergency, after all, a crisis, the biggest thing in the world.

In her messages, she made it sound like she'd just walked in on Death herself going all reverse-cowgirl on Satan in the living room. A life-or-death situation, go-time on the reality gridiron, a world-shattering event of such importance...

"J, you're, like, cheaper than my therapist. And you make me laugh."

She's just a tad drunk. It's 2:30 in the morning. I'm in Florida on vacation, sober yet full of Scotch, perfectly prepared red snapper and a dozen raw oysters.

And she's just kicked her cheating douche of a boyfriend out of her life, for good this time, out in Southern California. Sent some of his shit to the ex-wife, some to charity, and some, well, she just set on fire in the back yard. It's 11:30 p.m., her time.

"Death and Satan screwing. That's just sick, dude."

I'm sitting out beneath a full moon on the phone, smoking a cigarette on a park bench on no-smoking resort property. I'm supposed to be one of the nice guys, a good catch - I'm supposed to help her sort through went wrong, to offer insight into how to date decent guys...

Ha. Now that's fucking funny. Oh well. Life's just one quirky-ass motherfucker sometimes.

"Chica, look, men are like fucking potato chips. Don't like the BBQ ones, pitch the bag and get another flavor," I tell her. "Hey, look at me. I love being fucking single-"

"You're such a liar. And you don't really treat women like potato chips, do you?"

"Worse. I treat women like heroin addicts treat empty needles. Not gonna lie."

Silence.

Yeah, trust me. I know my weaknesses pretty well, thank you very much.

- # # # -

PRESIDENTIAL ERECTION 2008: Voter Independence, Political Ideals over Parties, and Other Dispatches from a Media-Construct Battlefield

Left-libertarianism combines the libertarian premise that each person possesses a natural right of self-ownership with the egalitarian premise that natural resources should be shared equally. Left-libertarianism holds that unappropriated natural resources are either unowned or owned in common, believing that private appropriation is only legitimate if everyone can appropriate an equal amount, or if private appropriation is taxed to compensate those who are excluded from natural resources.... Peter Vallentyne and Hillel Steiner edited a primer, The Origins of Left - Libertarianism: An Anthology of Historical Writings. This text places Hugo Grotius, Thomas Jefferson, Thomas Spence, Thomas Paine, John Stuart Mill, Herbert Spencer and Henry George in the left libertarian tradition.

- TEXT COURTESY WIKIPEDIA
GRAPHICS POLITICAL COMPASS

OXFORD, Ohio (ZP) -- You know, it's funny.

I've somehow managed to confuse (and piss off) a lot of folks, simply because, well, for as much as I sometimes ramble on about politics, I've never really made it clear what, exactly, my ideological views are or which party I support.

My bad.

Personally, I prefer the term Sandburg Socialist, since that great Midwestern bard not only influences my writing, but whose ideals also serve as the basis for my political views. And, no, I don't fit either the graph above or the wholly separate, more theoretical wiki definition, either.

I always figured people would pick up the clues I've been dropping on this site for years...

Nothing personal. I'm a Man Without a Party, militantly nonpartisan. And there was no chance, period, of me voting for either Millionaire Right Authoritarian Guy. I swing for the opposite corner when voting for president - it's only in local or congressional elections that my sense of populism kicks in and I'm willing to compromise for the sake of regional stability.

If your choice won, good for you. Here's a cookie. If your choice lost, well, good for you, too. And you get a cookie as well. Hey, I get a cookie as well - I voted and, yep, my choice even got something out of it.

I voted based on principles. And I've done so, well, for most of my adult life. I don't give a shit who won or lost the White House. Democracy isn't a football game - unless you choose for it to be. Though, in all honesty, given the Hank Junior performance on CNN election night and the fact that this election season led to all candidates spending nearly a third of the GDP (exchange rate) of Afghanistan on marketing...

I was shocked that anybody thought I was a Democrat or a Republican, actually - seriously, I keep forgetting that most folks read or hear "Left-leaning centrist" and think "Democrat." And wow, a lot of folks not only think I look like a cop, they also think I apparently vote like one. Just because one reads the word Libertarian on a computer screen does not mean I ever considered voting for the Republican Reject Party candidate.

And, yeah, it's been quite enjoyable hearing about it and seeing some folks' reactions. Don't worry about offending me - hell, I've got skin like a rhino's ass when it comes to political barbs. Gets the adrenaline flowing, it's good for you.

Again, sorry if I confused you. And kudos to the slightly more than 60 percent of the eligible voting population in these United States that actually voted for something, anything.

Even the 500 or so folks who showed up in protest throughout the Rust Belt to vote for the real winners this Fall - baseball's Philadelphia Phillies. Now that's a protest vote.

Yes, I really did vote for one of those candidates down in the Green Zone in the graphic above. Took the Political Compass survey a few moments ago and, well, guess what - that's where I fall and, nope, despite a Democratic Party win, still the same.

And, no, I never considered either major party an alternative.

* * * *

Needless to say, there were some seriously funny quotes this Election Cycle about my presidential choice and political views:

"Wait... am I drunk or did you just say you're centrist because you're between an anarchist and a socialist? Dude... that's ...that's fucked up..."

- Obama supporter

"You voted for the Socialist? I shoulda known you were a Commie..."

- McCain supporter

"Dude, you're the reason she took down the Obama stuff and voted for Nader? God, I knew it - you're a Republican, you fucker."

- No, it's called choice.
I just helped her find more options.

"Aren't you guys supposed to be like, not voting? Fucking French faggot. This is America. Leave."

- McCain supporter and
Obviously not a Log Cabin Republican

"Fuck yeah, dude! ... FUCK! Can I write down that "Camouflage in the Capitalist Kingdom" shit.."

- Intentional Nonvoter.
Steal it, man. Hell, I stole it.

"Man, shit. Thank you for reminding me that I'm not crazy and not the only one refusing to buy this bullshit anymore."

- A Guy Who May Just Vote
Ron Paul/Dennis Kucinich in 2012

"Jason - Ohio could fall because of your callous disrespect for this country with those stupid posters. This is not FUNNY!"

- Ex, Obama Supporter

"Man you're still the same arrogant fucking righteous prick ... when it comes to politics. Fuck you and that wacko Liberal Socialist bullshit."

- Another Ex, McCain Supporter

By the way, Ohio folks cast roughly 85,000 independent or small party votes for a Third Party President this cycle, somewhere between an estimated one and a half to two percent of the ballots cast for that office in the ol' Buckeye State. I'm far from the only one. It's nothing new.

Camouflage. Capitalist. Kingdom. And there are quite literally millions of us out there, who will never, ever vote for Thing 1 or Thing 2. Don't feel bad - it's the American Way.

* * * *

Oh well... Thank all that is holy that we - as well as the citizens of the world - survived another run-of-the-mill election year in the United States.

God bless America! Hosanna in the Highest! Let freedom ring! Hell, Yes WE Can't! or whatever the Obama folks were screaming all day... so exciting, so riveting, so...

Damn, something about Election Season just...

... Just...

Wow, sorry about that. Don't worry, the bastard pops up whenever I get excited. Six, seven times a day. It doesn't bite, no, but watch your eye.

And your back. Once slipped into an awkward position with someone, yeah, it's no fun taking the chick you're seeing down to the local Urgent Care because she told you to go in easy and then your arms gave out, thought you may have accidentally torn...

Horrendous experience. Forgot her purse, thus had to call one of her roommates. The official story the roomie got was, well, she'd slipped in my shower and somehow landed on the plunger.

Oh wait...

I forgot, we're not talking about Erection Reasons, are we? Sorry. Distracted. Cute girl just walked by in front of me. Dead ringer for the girl I was just talking about.

Damn, why do presidential races in the country always remind me of somebody getting fucked in the ass? Oh, that's right. Voting for the President, in the United States, usually turns out to be much dirtier and less seductive, at the end of the day, than your average guy-girl anal sex mishap story.

If this had been a midterm election year, I probably would've thought about that time after an all-night house party, walking into a kitchen, seeing two lesbians tossing dildoes at a blow-up doll. Like lawn darts. I laughed, one of the women went sidearm my way, and I caught a hard shot right in the ol' nutsack.

Hey, don't ask me. That last one just popped into my head.

* * * *

God Bless America, you dirty, dirty girl. That's right, spank me. Like that. Slowly, gently... Ow.

And here, have another fucking cookie. All outta strawberries and melted dark chocolate. Just, please... no crumbs in my bed. Frankly, if the ball drops this time, well, you get to clean it up and wash the sheets in the morning.

You know, let's not ruin that audacity of hope afterglow or whatever they call what we just did to Democracy.

It feels so, you know, dirty. But we'll always have the memories.

- # # # -

EPILOGUE: Yes, I know I promised a lot of folks I'd abstain from political writing during the 2008 Election because, well, I tend to irritate people on the Right and Left equally with my crazy "cynical idealist" politics. But, Good Gawd, what the fuck just happened? Don't worry, folks, I'm putting the Political Blogging Beast (HA!) back in the box - she's all yours again.

Congrats to ya'll Obama folks and McCain folks, too - voting is, after all, the ultimate sign of courage in this world and it's nice to be reminded that even dirty-politicking has become truly about the campaign and not skin color.