Sunday, December 13, 2009

Living in New York City--Dodging $65,000 Automobiles

Foto by tgw, New York City, 2009. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Prosperity Returns to We the People
Son of a bitch, coming back last night from picking up my dinner I was almost hit by two cars blocking the box on Broadway and my street. Mall-Mad Mayor Billionaire Mikey Bloomburg has fucked up traffic so around here he's created at least two DEATH corners on my stretch of Broadway. The Billionaire's turning Broadway into a pedestrian walkway and resting area for the growing homeless population and the early-morning winos getting a few winks before they have to go give blood for enough money to get back on the juice 'fore noon.

Broadway walks all the way from Times Square downtown my way until it gets to West 32nd where suddenly traffic off Fifth Avenue via West 33rd combines into one lane with traffic coming off Sixth Avenue via West 32nd. At West 32nd and Broadway, West 32nd traffic either turns downtown to merge into the one lane with the traffic coming off West 33rd packing it bank-to-bank or going on across Broadway straight--the box is consistently blocked here--and what a congested mess this causes. West 32nd and Broadway is a pedestrian death corner--both Broadway and West 32nd have buses running on them, too--plus the mayor's traffic engineers have run a bicycle lane along the east side of Broadway. Bikers don't respect traffic directions when it comes to bike lanes. They shoot both ways up and down them--fuck it that this bike lane cuts right through where pedestrians normally wait for the lights to change. Now not only do you have to keep your right eye on the oncoming automobile traffic but now like a well-oiled owl, you've got to keep your left eye on the perhaps oncoming bike traffic coming the wrong way down this fucking bike path.

Ed Koch (I openly call him Ed Crotch), that worthless piece of political crap, gave the City of New York two of its worst aspects, bike lanes and the Javitts Center. Mayors feel they have to leave edifices as their legacy. Bloomburg loves malls. He'll wreck a traditional New York City neighborhood for one of his malls. Mayor Bloomburg hates common traffic, Average Joe automobiles and work-a-day trucks; he hates taxis because they are now mostly driven by Indians and Muslims--a lot of Pakistan cab drivers; he hates traffic because it hinders limos and cop cars and fire engines and tour buses and shit like that. Guiliani painted out all of Koch's bike lanes but Bloomie is bringing them back because, you see, as I just said, Bloomie hates common ordinary traffic and cabs (both of which street-using drivers hate bicyclists!). And bikers can be silly assholes sometimes. Boldly riding right out into the middle of intersections, through red lights, some without any way of warning you they're fixing to run your poor ass down. How embarrassing would it be to be killed by a hit-and-run bicyclist?

So here I was wagging home a sack of vittles from my friend Mister Singh's deli and I got to the corner of my street and Broadway (another death corner), on the far side from my side of the street, where there's always a gob of traffic clogging up the one lane leading into my street but last night it was really clogged. I saw I was going to have to swim through the cars gridlocking this corner and blocking the pedestrian lane to get safely to the opposite bank in one piece. I had just dived off the curb to start swimming through this sea of SUVs and bobtail trucks when I looked left and saw two fucking cars coming at me, turning off that one lane on Broadway and trying to squeeze into the already packed lanes of my street, both going for the same semiopen lane, the lane I had just jumped into. Soon I was screamin', "You motherfucking sons of bitches...." Slapping my hand down on the first car's hood as I swam past it. That's when I noticed by the hood ornament it was a big fucking black Mercedes (Hitler's favorite car). After scooching by the skin of my ass past this Mercedes, I then found myself confronted by the second car, coming hard around the Mercedes trying for the same lane with me caught in the middle of them. And this other son of a bitch was coming at me with no thought of braking. I had to swim for dear life just to get a safe inch or two past this greedy son of a bitch. And as I barely butterflied my ass just off this other car's left front fender, I saw it too was a Mercedes, a white Mercedes (did I say that was Hitler's favorite car?). Two fucking $65,000 Mercedes sedans almost killed me. One driven by a male prick and the other driven by a female prick. All I can do in these situations is curse foully and be thankful I made it across that pond of killing machines alive. Of course, in their tinted glass Nazi cars with their eight-speaker Bose stereo systems fuzzing their brains to the point they can't hear the gabbing voice on the other end of their cell phones these self-centered bastards paid my slapping their hoods and cursing them with the cursing blitz of a drunken sailor no mind. I'm sure if one of them had hit me they wouldn't have stopped.

And for the first time I can remember, someone in my building drives a BMW, which they park in front of the building every night.

You see, down at street levels times are forcing their changes on us. Up in the upper rooms is where the designers of street-level change reside. Everybody in Manhattan, you can be assured, who lives above a certain floor (some say it's the eleventh floor on up--the first ten floors having to be due to the city tax breaks given the developer affordable for the lower classes though still not cheap or rented below market to non-profit organizations) of a hi-rise luxury building are way the hell richer than you are. Think about it. To own your own apartment in New York City, you've got to be able to obtain a 2 million dollar mortgage. That's even the smallest of apartments. Even in this real estate collapse, buying a Manhattan apartment is not for the middle class or poor. Even those who can afford the rents in these buildings are way richer than the average bears!

To me, anyone driving a new car on the streets of Manhattan is richer than I am by thousands of bucks a year. It's the sense of rich and poor being revealed before your eyes. My neighborhood is full of poor folks scrambling to make a living, selling out of boxes on corners, or Nigerians manning small one-room stores in old buildings like mine, selling cheap-cheap clothes and max-tacky wigs and wild whore shoes and out-of-style jeans and rip-off designer scarves, rip-off handbags and luggage, and ladies accessories--really cheap shit that the African women buy by the Hefty bag loads to sell at flea markets out in faraway Queens or nearby Caribbean Brooklyn. A lot of business people in New York City make their living off these really cheap-shit products--like watches. There's a store around the corner from me that only sells watches--holy shit, you've never seen so many watches--all of 'em cheap as hell--I saw one offer "to the trade only" in their window: 12 watches for $12.00. The land of the dollar watch. All of this crap made in Commie China, I guarantee you.

I was noticing where Mazda automobiles are still doing just fine. I wouldn't know a Mazda from a Honda, but I don't know a soul who owns a Mazda! Toyotas yeah; but Toyota says it's going broke. And Kias! The tincan South Korean car. Who buys Kias? Why are these auto companies so successful and yet our industry is broke, belly up--except Ford who says they're recovering better than ever, yeah sure.

The backwards thinkers have deceived us successfully and have won. The Neo-Con philosophy and thereby the New World Order logic is the going thing on the Beltway more solidly now it seems than when Georgie Porgie Puddin' Pie Bush was in power.

War is now necessary in order to have peace!

The recession is over. Wall Street is eating high on the hog. The Dow-Jones is racing back and forth from 10, 100 up to 10, 400 for a while, then it dives a hundred points...but no sweat! Everybody's rich.

Global warming is a hoax. Yes. It is.

War with Iran is inevitable if we are to ever have peace with them!

Here's the formula for War leading to Peace figured out by our top military thinkers along with corporate arms dealers. First we have to kill thousands of people and displace millions of people and sacrifice thousands of our young people (canon fodder) to the Capitalist business of WAR. Yes, WAR is a business. Cigar-smoking, gold-chained-draped, fat gunrunners the world over are rolling in the clover of WAR. MORE WAR! More war means more peace up the line. Yes, it won't happen in a day or a week or a month--more like maybe it will never happen, but right now we're winning. I look at the Wikipedia death list everyday and for the past few days I've noticed one al-Queda leader killed by bomb (that leaves 99 al-Queda in Afghanistan now) and two Taliban leaders killed by bombs over those days.

We worship DEATH. DEATH is PEACE to us. Did you hear that! DEATH is peace to us. WAR is life!!! WAR proves we rule Nature. WAR is proof of civilisation (Brit style). WAR gives us reason for being. Gives us our national identity.

WAR is certain; PEACE is not certain.

The healthcare bullshit goes on and on flip-flopping back and forth over a so-called public option--now arguing over a public option that isn't even a public option. In the meantime, Max, with his lips tightly kissing away at the big brown eye of the pharmaceutical industry, Baukus, just gave his girlfriend a $14,000-a-year raise. Ain't life sweet for these sorry ass brazen politicians who flaunt their fucking power in our stupid faces with that mean look of satisfaction that tells us these bastards don't give one shit in a tin bucket about We the People of the USA? Things flip-flop-and-fly so fast our heads are constantly spinning. One day we are recovering then the next day it's announced we lost 200,000 jobs and another 2 million homes were foreclosed on and another 100,000 had to die of curable diseases because they had no store-bought-rigged-against-them-pay-or-die health insurance from one of Max Baukus's big campaign contributors.

Health insurance rates will be going up.

Drug prices will be going sky high. Remember, Medicare won't buy generic drugs for senior citizens--hell no--in fact, Medicare is gladly paying a premium for its pharmaceutical payouts. It's insane.

In President Obama's acceptance of his Nobel Peace Prize speech, he mentioned Ghandi and Martin Luther King in one breath and then Nixon and Reagan in the next. Obama loves that fucking Reagan. That's fucking scary. What is so fucking powerful and hypnotic about Reagan's 8 years as a drugstore cowboy president and later Alzheimer's patient on the dole from We the People--giving him a good fucking life as he faded away from his own knowing who the hell he even was? A grade B actor who is now considered a grade A president by our current grade D, for deceit, president.

Obama is being fucked and so are We the People. We are, to put it politely, being fucked in our asses and then made to bend way over and beg for more--"Deeper...Harder...Ram it up me, you crooked sons of bitches."

Remember, natural sex (pleasurable, loving sex) is WRONG. EVIL.

Tiger Woods, for instance. Think about it. How many times did Tiger get laid growing up? His father had this poor mixed-up kid on the golf course when he was two. Until the old Tiger died, the old bastard stalked Tiger's every move. He controlled Tiger's morals as well as his golf game. Finally when daddy died, the Tiger went wild. Actually, you know, folks, Tiger did nothing different than most men do regardless of their fame and fortune. He certainly did no different than I did when I was married. And I played golf at one time, too. And one reason I played golf was because of the girl golfers. Especially one girl golfer who to me the most beautiful girl in high school, a girl I wanted desperately to score with on more than a golf course. And this girl played on the women's golf team and the women's golf team played on the same muni course as the men's golf team of which I was a member. And this girl wore these shorts when she played golf. Tannest longest legs in the world at that time. Sweetest face. Plus she wore glasses and I was into making passes at women who wore glasses.

Look at that football player in Memphis who was murdered by his mistress who then shot herself--what a mess that cheatin' bastard left his poor wife and kids. Look at A-Rod fucking around all over the place on his wife, with whores, too; isn't Madonna a whore? Yet, A-Rod is declared a champion, a man of great fame and fortune, forgiven of his sexual sins--in fact, now more famous as a socialite than he was when he was cheatin' around on his old lady.

Movie stars are allowed to be as rapscallion as they wish. I noticed Charlie Sheen, remember his worthless ass, is now a successful teevee star making millions off a teevee show where every episode is about illicit sex, sexual adventures, full of sexual innuendo jokes, full of references to men's nuts and dicks and women's "tah-tahs," titties, and asses--a lot of "check out her ass" references. There are always the string of young actress babes trotting across the stage for Charlie and his brother roommate (actually they live in a cool Malibu pad like all people live on Hollywood sit-coms) to do their weekly efforts at getting these babes in bed without disturbing the fact that one of these philandering dudes is father to a little fat boy who he has custody of and who lives normally among this nest of sexual conspirators. Charlie Sheen is this boy's uncle on the show. How come young boy teevee show stars are always pudgy?

Remember when Charlie Sheen lived in Hollywood whore houses?

Tiger Woods is no different than our precious President John F. Kennedy either. Wow, old Johnny-We-Hardly-Knew-Ye could fuck around at will following in his lecherous old daddy's infamous cattin'-around footsteps. Old Daddy Joe Kennedy loved bringing his actress whores home with him and fucking them right above the Kennedy home (Boston) dining room table--Mama Rose and the family sitting eating their pheasant under glass while Daddy Joe was banging away in a room just above them--"Ohhhhhhhh JOE, you're so BIG!"

Tiger will recover. He's the world's greatest golfer. When Tiger doesn't show up at your PGA tournament, you lose money. When Tiger doesn't play, golf's teevee ratings drop off by 50%. Nobody cares to watch a bunch of seemingly even-Steven same ole white dudes winning close matches every week for millions upon millions of corporate dollars. Tiger owns the golf world.

Hell, when good ole Tennessee hillbilly Dinah Shore started her LPGA golf tournament in Palm Springs (a movie star community), California, back in the 60s it was said, and I heard it from a woman pro golfer (Alice Bauer, I'll name names) that the night before the tourney began, all the girls gathered in Queen Dinah's quarters for an huge Lesbian party. Dinah liked to watch girls making out. It was said Dinah didn't participate in the acts herself; just watched. Yeah sure.

Come on, this goes on all the time. Sex in this country is so backwards that it condemns the wild actions of a kid who never got laid in his life who suddenly found himself a pretty-boy billionaire who is in total control of his profession and suddenly has a chance to nail white girls by the bedsful with impunity--to the point, he gets the fabulous opportunity to nail a pure white Swedish babe who he cajoles into marriage so he can have pretty little sunshine babies--half-black like him. At the same time think of the guilt this BLACK man has when he sees he's got a white-chick thing. All black men know they have a long-dick-fabled charm with white chicks. That Tiger can get the hottest white chicks on the market--SO WHAT? Let the man fuck around; get his tomcatting out of his system. Soon, he'll be fine. The Swede will forgive him and his billion dollars-a-year income will be back safe and sound in her wifely corner. Yes, they did have a prenuptial. Tiger ain't no fool when it comes to his team of lawyers giving him shifty advice. I'm sure they're working it out for this perfect couple!

I read where the golfing moralists are holding Saint Arnie Palmer and Saint Jack Nicklaus up as icons of perfect golfer husbandry--married to the same old ladies for tons of years. Sex was different in Arnie and Jack's day. Sex was taboo then. Hush hush. That's how JFK got away with his philandering. It was covered up by loyal Marines and Secret Service agents. Do you realize what great bonuses Secret Service dudes in the service of the President make keeping their privileged eyes closed and mouths shut. Like Bill Clinton used to tell his Secret Service, "Y'all boyz guard the Oval Office door. I've got this little Jewish princess intern coming to the Oval Office for a training session in Slick Willie fun and games." Bill didn't fuck her in the Oval Office--he just diddled her with an illegal Cuban cigar and then let her suck on his speckled dick for a while to then wank it off till it spurts out its loving ooze--"Ooooh, Mister President, you nasty boy, you got that sticky goo all over my new blue dress."

What a bunch of hypocrites we are.

for The Daily Growler

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