Positive Thoughts Don't Make Poor People Rich

Time for my quarterly blog post. I have noticed Petey has been a bit flaky when it comes to not only his blog posts; but to getting back to people, friends, family, and comedic events. In fact the only thing that I have been loyal to is Hulu, and my girlfriend. I don't know what I would do without Hulu... Because I know what I would do without my girlfriend... watch more Hulu, hello!

Lately I have been working on several ideas that may shake the very foundation of what I normally do. Although what I normally do is sit (sit at my desk at work, sit on the couch, sit on the toilet) these new ideas may very well involve more sitting, however what I do while sitting will change. I have been playing a lot of online games at work, and so much so that I very well may start a new blog reviewing these games I play. That is thought number 1, thought number 2 is to continue to work on my long long long long anticipated book "Man Poems, poems for men" I thought to make that a blog and if it works out I'll just make a book after the blog. I've seen it done, don't challenge me. Thought number 3 is to write witty articles (not like this one) as to get my ass in gear for the upcoming comedy festival that I gave the idea to people who are more motivated than I am to get the ball rolling. So now I'm in a comedy festival without any of the work. There must be a job like that somewhere...

Also, I have been in the process of joining the Air Force. But why? Well, to maybe find that lack of motivation, get debt paid off, and I have been playing with the idea of changing my focus in life from terrible comedian / flaky writer to public relations. Even though I don't get out much, I am not an awkward fella when it comes to socializing. I represent myself well (minus this blog) and I can represent other people well... as well. Plus I am convinced there is no plausible way of leaving Montana on your own. After several failed attempts of my own, I don't care what your thoughts are, because it is fucking impossible. I have now determined that will be the meaning of today's blog.

Fuck. You. Montana. Why are you so poor?

Fuck. You. Montana. Why is there nothing to do?

Fuck. You. Montana. My definition of fun does not involve a ski-doo.

So, I have been planning to escape Montana ever since I was brought over on the slave ship at the age of 10. I had a great life in Seattle, was the founder and chairman of my own club, and was surrounded by like minded people who had money, and rational thoughts. When I first came to Kalispell, MT I was made the brunt of jokes by the dirty dirty poor poors. Ever since I had several ideas of leaving. They go as follows, trying to go to school out of state, moving to l.a. for work after graduating college, move to chicago to go back to school. All. Have. Failed.

I don't know which is worse to either fail at all of those or to try to start all over again at $10 an hour in a city that should list "decline hobo's for money" as a recreational activity.

This is off topic but I have to mention, I made a map of downtown missoula with the Poverello Center (homeless shelter) on it, with it's address and ph# which I now give to the homeless when they ask for money. Some may see this as noble, but really I am doing it because I am so tired of saying no to them. In one instance a homeless man asked me for money because he was starving, and I told him to go to the Poverello center. He didn't know what that was or where it was, so the idea of the map sprouted form there. I only wish I had my "leave me alone and shut your mouth" map at that time.

Montana, oh how you have no industry. Even the medical marijuana business that was once blessed to people to start here has been taken away. The one business that had an industry where poor people, the common joe could start a business and make good money at was taken away. I mean I honestly feel Montana wants to keep its citizens poor and after bills are paid only have a few hundred dollars to live off of. Unacceptable Montana. So now, that I know what the problem is in this state, I hope someone will do something about it, because all I do, is sit.

Conversation Killer

So it has begun... going to the gym to work off the 7 months of winter I endured. I feel proud of going through such crap weather as Montana has the third highest suicide rate in the nation, and I don't think I'm alone when I say that if Montana had to go through one more month of it, we would have all been dead... But good thing Spring is here! After an orgy of food the cold weather came with, so did a few extra pounds, and now I'm at the gym listening to a bull shit conversation between a "boxer" and a guy from India who apparently is a fan of his. Now what makes this situation notable is the "boxer" is talking to his "fan" and they are having a back and forth conversation, all the way up til the "boxer" takes off his towel and flops his cock about... conversation ended. No more words, the "fan" stopped conversing back. It got me to thinking, what a great way to get out of any conversation. Some people say to grab a Twix, but I say save a dollar and grab your penis. For example: "So why are you working at DirecTV if you have a degree?" Then, remove your pants and say "Well if you have time I'll explain." Done, no more conversation. Thank. God. No explanation needed. Or, maybe you had too much to drink and decided to drive, you get pulled over, and the police man says, "Have you had anything to drink?" Immediately drop trou, "Oh excuse me, you have a goodnight sir." See? Flawless, no one wants to talk, interview, play badminton, go hiking, with a guy with no pants. I'm not endorsing for people to go out and flash anyone, it has to be strategic and only in emergencies, like pepper spray. Speaking of which... if one could somehow drop the pants AND pepper spray that would ideal, in fact that would be preferred. I might be onto something here. If I could fashion a product I think I'd call it, flash pants, or pepper dick, or peter picked a peck of pickled go fuck yourself! Really any of those will work. Seriously though, how shocked would that guy be if you were walking down the street and a hobo starts to attack you, and you unzip your pants; first of all he wouldn't know what the hell you're doing, he doesn't know what's going on, AND THEN you spray pepper from what Jesus gave you! Then you could say an 80's action film tag line like, "There's your change, will work for spicy food." I mean right?! You'd probably be leaving that situation with the Hobo's money, and his hot sandwich, depending. Serves him right. Now, don't think I forgot about you ladies out there. I know what you're thinking, "But I don't have a penis." True. For this very reason I have thought of several products, I got the v-spray, the PMS (Pepper Man Spray) or The Sentence Ender. I'll let you figure that one out. Well this has been productive, I'm glad we had this talk. Stay safe, and if you get into a bad conversation or heightened escalation, you know what to do. Good day to you.

Marc Summers, I Double Dare you to try to get away with that now a days

I was watching Double Dare on youtube the other night and couldn't help but feel a multitude of feelings. One of which was good flag up nose lord, did you really just do that Marc Summers? You see I don't want to start right off and say that Marc Summers is racist, but he was damn close. I finally understand why white Americans are hated by Al Qaeda, Eastern Cultures and a select few NBA players from 1992. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sL88KjfwQeQ That's right, Double Dare had a show with NBA players, which was either because the producers knew Marc Summers would squirm in his black jeans and large white tennis champion shoes, or it was because for some unknown reason every kid in the early nineties had a boner for the NBA. I remember I couldn't go to a friends house and avoid Space Jam, a Michael Jordan poster dunking a basket with his tongue sticking out (which was really too much to bare during recess when every white kid would go for a "jordan" dunk, and never make it. As if sticking your tongue out made you a 6,5 African American Basketball Legend. Because if that were the case why wasn't Keith Flint of prodigy drafted into the National Basketball Association without hesitation?) and a general obsession of wearing basketball shorts for my mexican and native american friends. I never understood it. I played Sega Genesis and avoided hoops, but I digress. Marc Summers you son of a bitch, you made it awkward for me to revisit my past. In a time where everyone is awkward, why did you have to be too? WHYYYYYYYYY?!!!! I ended up watching legends of the hidden temple afterwards to make up for this weirdness, which didn't really remedy anything when the host went to go in for a high five from the kids and, left him hanging. That was actually spectacular.

Speaking of spectacular, that talking Idol on the show, Omak, I think would be a great host to almost anything in life, explaining what you're about to do. Imagine you're the blue barracuda team and you're about to have sex for the first time, what do you do and how do you do it? Omak, take it away! Omak then comes out of a closet with his bright red eyes and faux foam face, flapping his technologically limited jaw, spouting wisdom with a simple, open close open close open close. He begins, "IN ORDER to procreate you will first need to remove your clothes (Omak always got louder at the beginning of each sentence too, which will be defined with ALL CAPS.) THEN, you will grab your partner. THE FEMALE will then lay on her back while the male simultaneously lays on top." Now I could continue but like Marc Summers that would be awkward... The real direction this blog post should go is Omak handling difficult social situations like a same sex marriage. "TO JOIN in a civil union you and your partner must have the permission from your state government. THEN, you must find the hidden justice of the peace hiding from the media and conservative groups as he is running for office next year and doesn't want to loose the republican nomination." Omak really knows what he's talking about I'd say, and I feel pretty confident ol' Omak can handle a more difficult situation like, oooooh, abortion. "IN ORDER to perform an abortion Purple Monkey team, wait, where's your partner?" Omak speaks the truth, no one has an abortion with their partner. Here, let this Abortion greeting card explain what I'm talking about. "So you lost a baby... But you kept your boy friend!" Back to Omak, "YOU should really either have permission from your parents or legal guardian if you are not of age. THEN, you must make it through the protesters and prayers where you will find yourself at the front gates of the clinic. GO INSIDE and fill out the paper work and if you have insurance you will automatically go to the operation room, but since you did not earn any insurance medallions in the earlier rounds you must go downtown to the free clinic. IF YOU encounter a meth addict in the lobby with a syringe you must then give them any money you are carrying to continue. ONCE YOU get into the operation room you must assemble the golden monkey to receive proper anesthesia. THEN after the procedure is done, you must try to get back to your parents house before the clock runs out. But the memories will haunt you, they will always be with you, in... LEGENDS, OF THE HIDDEN TEMPLE!

Poopsicles I say

I have to write to stop myself from going crazy. Also I want to take this blog to a different direction, not so much have it about me bitching and being bitter for all the misfortunes I've had, but rather let the facts be known as to why I am not a happy camper.

Goals to being a happy camper
1. Stop ending my evenings watching "1,000 ways to die" where campers do literally die...
2. Start looking for a way to get into grad school.
3. Find a hobby and do that hobby so I'm a bit more upbeat.
4. Let everyone understand I work at DIRECTV because I have to not because I like to.
5. Sure as shit would like to stop hearing "You have a degree and are working at DIRECTV?"
6. Stop bitching
7. Ask people if they are doing what they want to do.
8. Make more lists
9. Cancel that, lists are for pussy's

Ok, so for the past couple of months I have been sad, oh so sad... The reason for my sadness? Well it isn't because someone took my lollipop, it's because I feel the last 3 years have been a total and complete waste of time and now I find myself in the exact same spot I was at a year before I graduated college. Working at Directv, wanting to jump out of a window... Not to bitch, but you know it was coming, but it sure would be nice to have my work and education amount to something. Maybe I'm just not patient but I would sure like to start grad school now, instead of having to wade in this, ah poopsicles.