greed

i'd also like to post here, just for my own future knowledge, that i'm completely unmotivated to deal with bank of america this month. so i'm just leaving my account alone, i'm not even going to look at it till next month.

this month was fucked. last month, september, when i got my disability money, i got myself a laptop, and tried to get my medical weed card so it could at least be easier for me to find weed. but the day i got my weed card, i lost my arizona driver license. i had held onto that for years, all through this homelessness. just when i get the weed card, i lose my id, making the weed card useless. keep in mind, i rarely lose shit, i think the prick at the weed store kept my id, just for the purpose of making the weed card useless. seventy bucks wasted on that. and this laptop. i bought an i5, and it's still slower than my grandmother. i should have bought the i7, but then i would have been sober that month. and being sober for my birth month is a bad idea. needless to say, i had to panhandle alot that month. so when october came around, all i needed to do was get my id replaced. but when i walked to the bank to get my october money, i didn't have my id. so i had to verify that i was me, and could only get five hundred. leaving two hundred in my bank. that whole fiasco stole the motivation to get the id, so now i'm fucked for next month as well, the only way i can get any of my money now, is if i motivate myself to panhandle enough money for a new id before i can even think about getting my money out of the bank. the problem is, i'm really not motivated to panhandle for that, so i doubt that i'm going to get my id and see next month's money.

so, when the motivation for my id was stolen by all that horseshit chaos, i made it to about the eighth before i ran out of money. in fact, i remember. october sixth, the shoulder strap to my laptop case broke. since i hated carrying around a heavy laptop with one hand, instead of having my hands free, i had to spend my last bit of money on a new laptop case. the first one, i got from the pawn shop for free. this one cost me forty fucking bucks. but i walked up and took forty bucks out of the atm, so i could buy more weed. then i walked to the target to buy the laptop case. when i tried to buy it, it didn't take my card. i checked my card, which i seriously dread doing, right there in the store, and it showed that i only had ten bucks left on my card. so to pay for the laptop case, i handed over the cash. the next morning, october seventh, i woke up expecting to have ten bucks on my card still. i walked to the seven eleven to get my hot chocolate, and it wouldn't take my card. so i checked my account again.

bank of america loves to charge poor people a 'monthly maintenance fee', of twelve dollars every month. to maintain what, i wonder. it doesn't cost every person twelve bucks for them to perform maintenance on a website, nor a bank account. i only get seven hundred a month, but they feel that a twelve dollar chuck of that, aka a day's meal, should be theirs. every month. so, when i thought i should have ten bucks left on my card, and walked up to seven eleven to get a hot chocolate, and already made that hot chocolate, only to find out the hard way that my last ten bucks was no longer on my card... yeah. couldn't even get a two dollar hot chocolate because my bank has to be greedy little pricks. ten bucks left on my card, so they took twelve, leaving me in the hole, which will incur overdraft fees, leaving me fucked in the hole this month, so when i get next month's money, that extra two hundred dollars that i saved and held back? it's already gone. they charge overdraft fees for the overdraft fees, did you know that? if you have an overdraft fee, and you don't pay it, they'll charge another overdraft fee. each overdraft fee is thirty five dollars. so for each little one dollar purchase that sends you over, that's at least seventy dollars they can charge you, and the longer it sits that way through the month, the more they charge you.

perfect practice for a disability account, right?

so, i'm just purposely going to let that one dollar turn into overdraft fees, because a: i seriously don't feel like dealing with this bank anymore, i'm fucking fed up with their horseshit, and i'm just waiting to sue them, and b: well, i talk too much to remember b. but yeah, i seriously refuse to deal with that bank this month, so i'm just going to fuck them off, and i can deal with it when i sue them later. i'm sick of this shit, you fucking rich people, how many of our dollars do you think belong to you? and you don't even ask anymore, you just take and take and take. cause that's your policy.

my last ten bucks. but they wanted twelve.

but i am going to draw a little comic of a dude getting raped in the ass in the middle of the street by a bank of america employee, and an old lady asking the dude, 'aren't you going to do anything about that', and the dude just says 'he works for the bank'.

i'm gonna get fuckin' rich off that. because that last ten bucks of mine that they took from me... i had some lady hand me ten bucks down by pink taco just after that, so... looks like their attempts to keep me beneath them are still proving fruitless, but you'd think there would be any convincing them.

i fucking hate you people. the more dollars you spend, the longer you perpetuate this delusion.

and the longer you delay a better life.

i'm getting serious shocks of pain in my right leg today. after each one, my eyesight goes black, and i have to fade back in to my head. that can't be good, but you think anyone would give a good lickin' load of lizard shit? fuck no.

point being. that was my last fucking ten bucks. a day of food for me, but a 'monthly maintenance fee' to you. what are you maintaining on my account, that i have to pay you twelve bucks a month, i'd really like to know.

i asked them that, they just shuffled it off quickly, saying it's standard something something.

i don't give a shit. i'm sick of your money.

you know how many of your dollars i have proudly defaced, writing 'i am bill hicks' on them?

so fuck your ten bucks, fuck your month, fuck it all, i'm not dealing with a fucking bit of it till november, and that's even if i feel motivated enough to get my id, which i didn't even go into all that. i lost my arizona driver license, something rather special to me. i do not want to get a california id, i'd much rather go back up to seattle at this point, and get a washington id, especially considering that i have also lost the weed card, and how worthless it was anyway, and it was easier to get weed in seattle anyway. fuck this shit, i'm hating california. too many rich, greedy scumfucks here. too many sports cars, too many dogs on leashes, too many fucking muscle puffed walking steroids holding hands, i'm so sick of seeing that. these fucking overbuilt doofuses, building all that muscle to do absolutely nothing with it, like driving a truck and never putting anything in the truck bed, which i've seen people do, i'm so sick of seeing that, do you really have to build all that muscle to do nothing good with it other than using it for appearance, especially when you don't even have to look in a mirror to appreciate it, because your boyfriend is just as built... what the fuck is wrong with you people, you've taken this gay thing way too far, which means it's gone into the territory of queer and fag and all that shit, which means i don't have to be respectful to you, cause when the fuck have you been respectful to me, other than ignoring me. i don't get that, really, it's too stupid and childish and immature to understand. you build your muscles not to help others, but to attract a man that looks just like you, so you can hold hands and walk down the street together... you know, when our future selves look back on us right now at this point in our development, they're going to be pretty fucking ashamed at how far you let yourself fall into this weakness. i think even the women are starting to wonder what the fuck we're thinking.

one man questioning his sexuality, is an issue, and needs to be looked at by an openminded family and a therapist.
a bunch of men questioning their sexuality, is a media circus, but can still be handled responsibly by family.

but this many men, the world over, that are so comfortably feeling like they need another man's presence...

i don't care how many steroids you've swallowed, you're weak. and that weakness can be seen by the future, and the eyes of women. so go ahead and keep fucking eachother in the asses, and you can even blame me for being 'homophobic' and insulting you if it makes you feel better. attacked, victimized, scared. sure, wallow in it.

i don't give a fuck about my sexuality, especially when it comes to defining it to any of you. it's my fucking business, and just because i fuck a guy doesn't mean i should publicly call myself gay from that point forward. who gives a shit who you're fucking, i'm much more concerned with what your fucking iq is, because that's the requirement that qualifies you in the eyes of the future. and by future, i only mean the day when you do not exist. because all we have is this moment, and you have put us in this linear prison with dollar bills and concrete and rules, but no, the truth is, we are in this moment, and you just need to not be here. is that clear enough?

that being said...

i am, seriously, very sick of seeing so many muscle crusted men holding hands with eachother, that makes me fucking sick. but i also hate seeing the hot women and the backs of their heads. i know they're never going to see me, so that's why i hate it so much. in fact, ninety nine percent of all men and women sicken the fuck out of me. i don't mean that to offend you, i mean it to inform you. but i know it will just offend you. so go ahead, misunderstand it, call me whatever you want, diagnose me, tell me i'm wrong and call me an asshole, i don't care.

i'm just as sick of seeing that as i am your leashed dogs, so what, are you gonna call me an animal hater now, too? for your information, i'm cat people, but... not like you'd ever be 'informed'.

you don't realize what a waste you are, do you?

we need seven billion 'unique' clones, some driving mercedes, some holding hands, some spending credit cards on expensive food for their families... you know what? when it all comes down to it, this is probably what i hate the most about your 'family unit' mentality.

the fact that you're so possessive, but you tell me i'm possessive if i try to get my hands on one fuckin' thing.

you covet your families in secrecy, fear, and privacy, you shroud your lives in walls of defense.

so when i see your two asian daughters dressed like sluts, walking down the street holding hands with their two asian boyfriends, walking into a starbucks...

i get sick.

i should be able to walk up to any girl, and offer her a compliment, and possibly a touch, and even have the chance of convincing her to walk my way. that's called chivalry. it makes life fair. but you just pass me off as possessive, and allow yourselves to keep living such greedy, selfish lives. no, you're wrong, and your first mistake, was a psychological issue called 'projection', which i know a lot about, i came from a family that imprinted me with all their flaws, i should know. see, i'm not being possessive, i have nothing in my hands, and really need nothing in my hands. infact, i wrote the song about that, but we'll get to that later.

you are possessive, and i can prove it.
wallet. password on your cellphone. pants. dress shoes. car keys. and your daughter dates guys you approve of, which are usually weak, ignorant losers, which makes you feel more manly. you like owning everything.

therefore, you are possessive.

do i need to repeat that?
must i explain that to you again?
shall i walk you through it again?

i'm standing in a black room, talking into a mirror.
that reflection constantly blames me, tells me i'm wrong.
is that because i'm saying the same things to it first?
i honestly feel like i'm trying to educate this mirror, and it's just throwing mud at me.

i wish i could tell a psychologist that, but they don't give a shit.
my mother could analyze it and explain it to you. if she were here.

i'd love to hear carl jung's take on that.

so to all the hippies who blame me for being too filled with hatred, too negative...
to all the facebook clones that purposely misunderstood me and blamed me...

i'm trying to love a mirror, trying to sympathize, educate.
it's hating me, which is filling me with hate.

how do you explain that. it's not my fault the mirror is retarded and doesn't understand how wrong it is. but it could at least stop blaming me for all its problems and accusing me of doing the same thing.

i've explained that so many times, i can't count them all.

one of these days, one of you fuckers is going to finally understand this, and i expect sympathy for me having to stand alone on this ledge all this time. butting my head against every hateful force in our mind, just trying to get to a better day than today. forgive me for calling it the future, i just need a word to look forward to.

a definition to use.

every fat man i see wearing khaki shorts and sandles, pulling a fat wallet out of his pocket, to buy something for someone only he knows, if not himself...

i hate you.
i know you don't deserve that.
and i know you won't be around much longer.
i pray for the end of you.
and all your clones, all your concrete and plastic and hatred. stench.

gone.

the earth is waiting for that, too.

stop deciding if you believe in god, or if you're 'in league with satan', or trying to convey one image while actually practicing the other... it doesn't matter anymore.

i'm on the side of the earth. i hear the voice of the earth. you want to debate me, you're gonna lose.

nature wins. every time. so says evolution. figure that out.

you hot girls, your pink half shirts hanging so loosely off your perfect tits, and the fact that i can't touch...
you don't deserve to exist either. i know you may gasp and get offended, but it's the opinion i'm entitled to.

when it comes down to how close our opinions are to those of nature... don't blame me for being closer to earth than you. you were listening to god, i chose to listen to a voice that was actually talking to me. that's not my fault.

so... when are we going to stop blaming, and start agreeing. hmm?