Yeah I had sex a few times, but the ladies would freak out when they learned that I was not allowed to live any place except with my mother, and…, there was no bedrooms, and no beds, I had to sleep on a couch, or on the floor, there were no doors on any of the rooms in my mothers house, so the girl…, normally a healthy woman around 25, couldn’t dream of raising kids, with my mother watching us having sex, or taking care of kids.

I wanted to be married, like any guy, I suppose, but there is no justice system, or social services, or community, or anything…., to stop my mother from doing this.

I was not allowed to have a door on my bedroom when I was a kid, so if I was asleep when I was eight years old, and the blankets slipped off and I had an erection under my shorts,  my mother would always need to make fun of me and giggle about it, normally, in front of other people, and especially girls my age.

The girls did not like that, like what if those girls dated me, and then my mother told everybody all abut them?

I am 42 years old and this is still going on all day every day, and it has never stopped for a second in my entire life.

So I live at an old abandon house with no furnace, and no woodstove and nothing, then I have a Toyota pickup my  mother owns, so I can got to her house once a week and get soda, chips, cigarettes, and fifty dollars, then I get food, and gas,  and sit here for another week.

If I get a job, she will take away the truck and the house. I tried my entire life to get out of here and work. Nobody would ever pay me enough to replace my truck and get a place to live.

The longer I work the more homeless I get. So then I quit and go back to my mother’s. I don’t want to go back, there is no choice, within a few weeks.

My little brother and me grew up in the extreme backwoods with knives and rifles, binoculars and radios,  keeping each other alive, and learning to show a profit, and saving each other’s lives several times, so we were “welded together by adversity” and we will never allow anybody to really hurt the other, so my brother drinks as much alcohol as he can and smokes dope every day all day, refuses to work, and generally makes a fool of himself living with my mother and he is 40 years old, so she can never enjoy a second of the punishment she gives me.

My brother and me, are worth $500 a day…., from the day we turned 18 years old, there literally is…., nobody else…., with the skills and background we have. If you don’t pay us, we will cost you $5000 a day.

So when ever a bug shot factory owned would see my generosity and technique in the woods, they would also see that I was getting screwed over, I wanted to sell camping and outdoors equipment when I was ten, so the guy who owns the factory gave me the grandfather rights , so I am the only one around here who will ever have a successful store that sells camping supplies, fifty million acres of forest and I need a store and I have about seventeen dollars saved up so far.

Mike Lanegan wanted to kick my ass, so when I was ten…, he forced me to give him a blow job and then he promised to not come in my mouth and then he did, I was fucking devastated, then he sold sporting goods for a few years and then went broke . Another asshole named Dennis tried to sell camping supplies and really I needed a damn job, but he would never hire me, he would never pay me twenty or thirty dollars an hour, so I could show him what to order and how to market the stuff.

Lanegan and Dennis owe this town, their lives, and about a hundred million dollars. We are talking about thirty fucking years of old queer Veterans
Fucking around trying to run the show and they can’t sell shit.

Then I also got the grandfather rights to bicycles, stereos, televisions furniture, office supplies. Comic books and magazines, and the list goes on and on.

I’m a pretty normal guy, I love the idea of having a ten year old step daughter sitting on my cock, screwing me, before school in the morning.

That was a nice fantasy for a while, but guys like Dennis and Lanegan actually got that shit, any time they wanted, it, Lanegan was at war with our town so he told me…., he would fuck any girl I ever loved, just to get me to hate him, then he fucked my 15 year old girlfriend when I was 17, and needless to say, I was a little pissed.

I was way too young to go to war, I just wanted to get a house, a car, and a job, and have the ability to choose, when…, to get the hell out of here, when these assholes got so psychotic they might start killing people.

I didn’t ask for this shit, the only thing the  will let me do, is to try to open a business in the Chitina Valley and I really couldn’t care less, if I will never have any way to get out of this state or away from these crazy fuckers if they want to get out the guns, I would win, a shootout, or war, that is a promise, but then I would have to kill about three hundred guys, and they you would think I was an asshole.

Three hundred assholes with rifles and they all hate my guts. This is really fun, and behind them will be a thousand assholes, and behind them twenty thousand. That is thirty five thousand assholes I have to kill before I can get laid.

If you invest ten grand, or a hundred grand, in my little Chitina Valley business, then, let me run it my way, we will all make money, if you fight me I will close the thing and shut down everything.

Look around, if you want to follow Lanegan and Dennis we get no music, no dancing, no pretty girls, no nice trucks, no tourists no hunting, or snow machines, or comic books. You will not get furniture, or Bicycles, canoes or boats . There is not a cool dirt bike within fifty miles.

This weird stuff makes me frustrated and I have seizures, so I take medicine called Depakote, then the local geniuses at the Pharmacy started a fight with me and I am not allowed in their damn clinic or on the grounds of the clinic, and there was no method for a time limit for that ,or any way to negotiate.

That means permanently…. until I kiss some fucking whore’s ass and let her tall me how to ‘behave’ at “her” clinic.  That means you can fuck an eight year old in this town, but you gotta pay them…., to protect you from the social pressure, the social pressure means…, they will call the fucking cops and claim you threatened to fucking shoot the pharmacist.

I told that pharmacist fucker I had ten cases of Jack Daniels, and I could put three hundred of my Indian  friends in that building and literally level that place to the ground in about three hours. No cop on the planet would show up. Until it was over. Then they, are the real big shot investigators.

Oh yeah my masturbation sex fantasy stuff gets all weird, but the real women tend to keep that all going correct when they are allowed to get around me.

Very few ladies have any idea how to anticipate the extreme and extraordinary power I have to decide if somebody can sell comic books or bicycles, or cars or airplanes, they all think…., they know…, but they never saw a working example and they totally fuck up when they try to put their “mysterious woman shit” against me, to modify my behavior, and make me a better guy.

They want to make me less, not more, they had no idea there was, more.

So I decidesd to forcte this town to pay me thirty thousand dollars, before I would allow them to have an economy.

Any time any manufacturer wants to sell something here, I just tell them wait, send private investigator, first, and if I have thirty grand in the bank, and a crew working, and my business is open, then go ahead.

But I grew up here, and if this town can not get thirty grand in a bank account for me, then fuck them.

The manufacturers, like it, they know me and they think I deserve to have credit and a real living wage job or loans and investments like anybody else.

They would never want to help a town that would hurt me and my brother.

Those people are the people I was hunting with from the time I was about seven years old, they have been camping at my Chitina Valley property for over thirty years.

Seriously I expected about five nice pick up trucks parked in my yard every morning from the time I was 18.…, with contractors and other employers,  ready to take me to work and pay me about  a hundred dollars an hour, so I could get a hundred grand, and then open my Chitina Valley place.

Until that place is open and me and my brother and my mother are secure, this region is totally going to be at a standstill and the people who slowed me down will damn well answer for it.

I could not afford to have a funeral or any type of anything to honor my Dad when he died. Lanegan and Schliesing hated my Dad. Herman Schliesing, had millions, from selling stove oil in our town,  and he liked fucking Lisa his little daughter, so he hated everybody. Especially anybody who might like Lisa or who Lisa might like.

I don’t mind at all…., telling you I think it might be nice to have a 12 year old girl come home from school and have sex with me for a while.

But I would never totally destroy the credibility and career and life of a boy her age who liked her, just to keep it a secret. Screw it tell everybody…, but don’t destroy a guy and stop the economy of a region for Lisas damn pussy.

Lisa is about 40 and she is still a doll, but I gave up everything for that little bitch. It was taken from me, it was stolen, it was given to her. The town removed my social position and gave it to a ten year old girl who was getting fucked by daddy. I was thirteen at the time, and I got the wonderful fun of watching him do this.

When My Dad was about sixty, he said, wait till I’m really old, then get me a magazine subscription for a magazine about Trains. He liked trains, but I never had the $19.50 for the damn subscription.

Lisa was busy being rich, and doing whatever she wanted to.

And my Dad sat there with no magazines to read.

You won’t know how strange it feels to just want some paper and a pencil so I could just draw a damn train.

It is not pity it is more like I just need to get out of here and if I can’t then I can’t open my place and then we need to wait, and then later…., you might get to have a real vacation to Alaska.

Basically Lisa and Lanegan and Dennis are still running the show.

I don’t know who else is screwing around trying to be the big shot or boss around here but I can tell you there are getting progressively more sick and sleazy.

Palin said I was lazy. Palin, what a smart ass, the only way I ever saw that man make money…, was one time…., he made me give him 25 dollars so I could screw his sister.

I was sort of thinking  along the line where we go get some girls who liked us and we have, separate, private locked bedrooms, for each couple, and condoms, and have the common sense to not bother each other and then have some time with the girls. I end up on the floor, with about five other kids laying around watching, while I try to have sex with this girl and she knew all about sex,  and sort of expected, no foreplay, or kissing, or hugging, just shove it in, and fuck till you are done.  That is what all the kids expected too.

Like I was a loser for not knowing how to do it.

Bummer.., that I didn’t know how to do it…, but I, was not lazy…, and I was not selling my sister…, to pay for a Polaris, either. Todd went on to win the iron dog snowmachine race several times, and then he gets to hangout in Juneau and bullshit with the Governor all the time.

They always said, Todd Palin was competitive, yeah , well, so am I.

The Veterans want the young people to stay home, and take care of the old people when they get too old to take care of themselves.

If you really want to shut down a country, just saturate the place with old people who have too much cash, and they will never promote the young people to any position where they can make a decision.

When the young men want to leave and explore and establish trade, the old people will tell you those young men are…, “whatever it takes, in your civilian traditions, to get you to put social pressure on those young men so they can not get supplies or support”.

They will create the illusion that the young men are doing something that is against your civilization’s healthy function and progress.

So they know you, they know you really well. They trained you. The old timers will tell you the young men are gay, and drug users, and rebellious , and like teenagers, and they are drunks, and they drive too fast, and their hair is funny, and they are lazy, and they have sex problems.

The old timers will provide “data and statistics,” when they know you just love data and statistics, they will provide “evidence” that the young men who want to leave… are immature and rebellious and that all their ideas, like leaving, and establishing trade, are the result of drugs, and or the result of following the philosophy of non – contributing members of society.

So the young men, want supplies, from you, but they want to be honest about it and just ask nicely and really you know it is a good idea, it is a cool idea it is a great idea, for them to leave and get a job in some other cool town and then maybe send you come cash and maybe send for you after they get there and they n you could get away from the nasty old people who treat you like garbage.

Switch you brain to being on the receiving end, like you have a ship full of trade goods, and trucks,and housing, and all the goodies to trade nicely, with these people, like you own Hong Kong, or Venice, and the young guys from America want to show up and buy some of this stuff from you, and the young guys parents are such selfish assholes they treat their kids like shit, and you can’t deal with it.

You are not behind schedule itf you have been working your ass off, selling stuff to other countries for fifty years and kickin ass, you are rich, just waiting for the fuck heads in America to wake the fuck up and let their young men get a ship and come get some of the shit you sell.

America likes to pretend they are ahead of Hong Kong and Venice, what a total crock of shit, there is nothng remotely close to a real trade center in America.

New York is like the loading dock of a sleazy bar.

A real trade center  might look like a huge greenhouse and  with gardens and places to entertain guests and get to know them a little.

I think there must be better batteries.

And I think the idea is, that the acid freaks people out.

Then any battery that is not so much trouble is probably patented, and that patent is owned by some guy who pretends it is almost impossible to build one.

For all the information available on the computer I really almost never see ideas like this.

—————————————–//

—————————————–//

When I never see ideas like this, open and discussed that tells me why people are so angry.

Obviously, if people are not talking about basic ideas like trying to get a lighter safe battery then somebody is being a total asshole someplace.

That guy needs his ass kicked.

I don’t mean bankrupt or having “journalists” write about the guy in their diary.

I mean take the fucker out behind the dumpster and kick the shit out of him.

Then tell the journalists to clean him up and then write about that in their fucking diary.

Sometimes they call it injection molding, and it takes a couple of machines, you could fit in your garage.

So what if everybody had one? People like the logic thing…, that all amater economists talk about….,like…, “what if everbody had free this, and free that, and too much of everybody having too much stuff, would shut down some industry” or whatver.

Injection molding is not the greatest hobby around.

But if you could either make the injection molding machine itself, or the metal molds, that would be pretty cool.

The idea of all the cool things you could make with plastic is a little too nineties.

The marketing from the nineties is sooo Sunday School Teacher.

“There was Noah and his Ark, but no sex happened back then.” Sex started in the sixties.

The nineties was all about…,” the first step to starting a business was getting business cards and marketing.”

But in real life, you need a customer, with some real cash.

I always get this look, from young people these days, like all their friends in high school have their own injection molding equipment at home and they are cloning cell phones and I am just too outdated to be let in on their little secret.

They act like I am so silly for dreaming, and thinking up weird ideas, but I grew up in  a family that had five airplanes exploring the Wrangell mountains in Alaska, and they have not dreamed that up yet.

Maybe I’m Behind, but I can tell you, there are millions who have not caught up with me  or my brother.

Yeah, it would be cool to have about ten little garage sized factories, about a thousand miles away from the nearest paranoid girl who has a cell phone and an obsession to look like a private investigator or detective by reporting my “suspicious behavior.”

I don’t care so much what they think about me, I care about what they do, when I am not giving them a lot of attention or pretending I respect them.

I think it would be cool, to have the full cycle of plastic stuff, all at one small business close to my house, so I could make something, wear it out, and then recycle it, and never need to let anybody disrupt that schedule.

Letting somebody disrupt the schedule, is somehow wrong.

Global trade has been around from the time they had ships in the Mediterranean. They didn’t know how big the world was. They figured going to Africa, and up to Norway probably about covered it. So they would freak out when they had a lot of spare time to freak out, and they would “worry about the big shots taking over the world”.

So when I was just out of high school, in the mid 80s,  a lot of people between 18 and 20 years old, had endless time , to just sit around and do nothing but freak out.

Spare time with no way to get a little home based business going for themselves.

I sold office supplises for six years , from the time I was 16 until I was 21 ,and all the real business people, who made real money, were telling me the same thing. They told me to get ten friends, to put a thousand dollars into some small business, so we would start with ten thousand dollars, and then mostly…., “forget the organization and paperwork and just sell stuff, and get their $1000 investment back, and try to show a profit and then worry about the organization and paperwork.

You could tell if a person was an idiot, if they were always trying to manage the other guys or talk about “how things were going to be, later,”…, when really, it was all about the customers needing something, ( supply and demand), not, the customers rewarding some idiot for organizing anything.

In High school they sort of messed up by teaching everybody to be leaders, but then nobody in the 80s wanted to work.

They taught every jock and math geek  in high school how to “build a team”, but never how to simply ask the customers what they had a shortage of that they would pay a premium price for.

So normally , when I say “home based business” or “private enterprise” , people think I’m talking about taking a pottery class or making candles or some stupid thing.

Then the next weird thing…, is when there is some way, to make about sixty thousand a year, they always want to get a million dollar bank loan, and make eighty thousand a year.

There is no rule that forces you to patent something and then build a fifteen acre factory for thirty thousand employees.

They really sucked. But they were getting all the gigs, and all the damn girls, and all the drugs and whatever but they still couldn’t play guitar worth a shit.

It was a scam, not anything like an artistic, or dedicated music career.

So the music industry knows, that if a real group gets together and learns rock songs from the 50s and 60s, like old Elvis songs and weird shit like that, the feeling of performing live, is great, and it is a lot easier to get a gig with those old songs.

So they want more bands playing live, not recording.

The music industry and the bands,would make a lot more money and have a lot more control, if the bands were playing live.

Any idiot church girl can get her church to buy a hundred thousand copies of her album even if she sucks.

But live, she would not do so good.

You gotta have some songs, and then after you cover about a hundred songs and learn to learn another one, when the audience is requesting it, then you can sneak in your original songs.

I think the idea is…., they want us to get off our asses and need to go see a real band and not just mess around with a stupid little computer chip or CD.

Like if you can’t handle it in public, you got no reason to have a vote.

The whining off key voice thing has gotta go.

If you can’t sing, don’t.

It is not art, being off key…, it is an indicator of ineptitude.

So the cassettes needed to be metal, not plastic,  and built, like a VCR tape, so the magnetic tape did not get messed up.

The tape itself could have been metal too.

Then the buttons would break, so the “rewind button” or whichever it was, would get bent and then there was no way to fix it.

We needed the basic player, and amplifier, and speakers, to improve, and forget all the options and features.

Forget features, we needed and wanted to have the music and then mostly talk to each other, then the contact with other people was more important than the stupid features that would always break, or take you away from the conversation with a real person.

The rule,was…., that if you ever turned a boom box up, over seven, on a scale from one to ten, it would blow the speakers.

I had this great location to open a small business and actually had most of the equipment to run the place and everything by the time I was 16 years old, and nobody knew about that part, so they would always tell me I was full of shit when I was asking them if they would help me open a business.

I needed them to work, not invent ways to make money, I had the location and everything and they never heard of anything like that before.

So I got into a lot of weird ideas and distractions waiting for them to grow up and figure out they could have been getting a thousand dollars a day working for me, but they did not want me to be the boss, they wanted to be the boss, so most of them will never make a grand a day.

My “weird ideas,” are like…, “trying to get other people to start their own small businesses”…, so they will learn , how easy it is to get real freedom and independence, , and also…, how easy it is to get stupid and mess it up.

I have been at it a while, and got to do a lot of the dreams I had, but none of my friends or family every saw that, when they were so stuck thinking I would need to “show certain things first,”( roll – bar, lights, stereo, TV, etc….) before the world would let me do what I wanted to.

I was banished and exiled, by my home town before I was five years old, so that is how I got my little business in the first place, they wanted me to live a hundred miles from town in a remote cabin, so I spent most of my life setting it up, so I could make a couple hundred million dollars and pretty much wipe out the people who did that to me.

There was no court system in Alaska in my town at that time, so the local nurses at the local clinic worked for a big business church and they decided to banish me and exile me and basically castrate me either socially or physically if they could get away with it.

That was all a big, secret, until I got in my thirties and I was healthy and young and sober and had a great little business and the women were really attracted to me, and I started truly hating the idea that I could not have contact with a lady…, or the church or other locals, might threaten her, too.

I don’t mind living in the woods, but I like having the choice, and not being forced to live out there all alone.

Life is good, I just happen to live in a town that is based on rumor and guilt, as a method to contain the normally psychotic or neurotic locals.

I need some help for me.

This place would never allow me to get a living wage job, or have a door on my bedroom or have a bathroom or shower anything a normal young man wants, and most people would consider the most basic stuff.

When I was a young kid and young adult, I learned, repeatedly, that I needed a snow machine and a fishing pole.

That was my therapy.

If you gave me shit in high school , I could kick the living shit out of you, or I could go fishing.

You would be a lot safer if I went fishing.

I was never much of a fighter, really but I had a lot of people around who knew about the exile thing who did not like it if anybody pushed me around too much, I had a lot of challenges already. And I could, and would, kick a little ass once in a while.

So this fantastic shit hole town, held out the snow machine and fishing pole like a carrot on a stick after I turned 18, and wanted me to conform to their nasty attitude before they would let me have a snow machine or a fishing pole.

So I knew I needed a snow machine by the time I was fifteen, it was mandatory to keep the local idiots out of the intensive care unit.

That was twenty four years ago.

I have never owned a snow machine, or fishing pole, in twenty four years.

No TV, no VCR, no couch, no nothing.

I am 42 years old, and I have never really owned, anything.

I was never a loser, or rebellious, or anti social, I was just exiled, by a church, when I was four.

That was them, the church, being vain, and proud of the “science of psychology”. In 1968.

The church also runs the only clinic and the local radio station, this place really sucks.

All Christian, all day, for forty two years, or they threaten to cut your balls off.

Still , they will ask “what I want….”

And I want my business open so I can get a snowmachine and a fishing pole.

The church wants you to not go fishing and not have a snowmachine, ( yes, in Alaska) so you wil get miserable and go to them and get “counseling” and tell them all about exactly how they can give you the barest minimum of what you think you want…,, they will…, “keep you on rations and the verge of misery so any reward looks good.”

It would take about a half million to open my place.

If you had to start from scratch…, to build a place like mine, it would cost you ten million , and you would not have the experience or aptitude I do in the wilderness. so forget the idea of messing with my “market”.

If I sold it, I would sell it for five million, and spend two million hiding, and then sending in lawyers and private investigators, to rip that damn church off the face of the planet.

I want them to be the damned, and me to be the saved, for the next forty years.

They always said I was the “damned, so there would be no way out of the punishment they gave me.

That means there is no time limit.

That is like giving a four year old, life in prison. No parole, and no probation.

The only bad habit I got out of all this, was that occasionally, I will spontaneously throw something through a window. That started when I was about thirty eight.

I have been mostly sort of homeless, or preparing to be homeless, most of my life, so walls and windows inhibit my sensory input, and create the illusion of protection from the elements.

The community will not protect my rights to having protection from the elements, when the church might socially punish them, with rumors, or getting them fired, or not letting their kids play with who they want, or whatever.

Oh yeah…., I’ll write it down.

And I’ll show you the guy they stopped from making a contribution to the community.