The Buhler

I had a revelation. At least, I think I did.

I’m not really a religious sort. Nor am I “spiritual.” I think there are forces in the universe which guide us. I believe that some things in life are meant to happen. I am also of the opinion that Mother Nature rules all.

However.

I wonder if heaven and hell and reincarnation exist. In unison. Heaven and hell cannot be as most people think of them. They are not up in the sky or deep down below the Earth.

Heaven and hell, therefore, must take form ON Earth. Which, in turn, means that reincarnation MUST be involved somehow.

For instance, say you were a complete asshole throughout your life. Dorian Gray time a thousand. When you died, it was determined that you were going to hell. Perhaps, at the time, your hell was a Jew in a concentration camp.

Or, say you lived a wonderful life and were sweeter than Helen Keller dipped in honey and rolled in sugar. Then your heaven could be a rich, white man in America.

Or something. Just examples. Bad examples perhaps but examples nonetheless.

Everyone else just seems to be in limbo. Purgatory.

Surely, there’s got to be a religion out there that covers that. Surely.

Disclaimer: No offense was meant in the making of this post.

Perhaps it’s a good thing that Mr. Scott Walker is all for Wisconsin citizens carrying concealed weapons.

I’ll need those weapons for disposing of all the unwanted people that will surface once he takes away funding for Planned Parenthood.

This inappropriate thought brought to you by the Fuck You Scott Walker Committee.

You must be an idiot to think that this Osama shit matters. Seriously.

Nothing will change. Our government will remain the same.

Our government rather blows because, well, we are still stuck in the two-party system. Very archaic, if you ask me.

One man dead. A million more like him. This is not a victory. This is just a dead man and an excuse for a war. Or two.

Dear people, gather your heads from your asses and fucking realize that our government sucks. A lot. A dead Muslim ain’t gonna make things better for us. It’s not going to bring our troops home.

Terrorism?! Doesn’t exist. One man’s terrorism is another man’s hero.

This. Is. Life.

This. Is. History. As we know it.

This is not new.

Get the fuck over yourself, America. You will fall too. Such as Rome. Persia. Etc.

Human nature. Did we forget about that?

Enjoy your hollow victory. It means nothing. So sorry.

Jesus is widely accepted as God’s son. Without proof of any sort.

Some of those same people that accept that “fact” are some of the people who also believe that Obama is a Muslim terrorist that was born in Kenya.

Fucking amazing.

All I want in life is good conversation and plenty of sex.

Seeing as how those two things don’t seem to be mutually exclusive, I will take comfort in the fact that I have intelligent, witty friends and a pretty face attached to an amazing body.

That is all.

I finally figured out how that Tooth Fairy bitch gets all her money. She operates with the Purse Fairy. The Purse Fairy is an evil, hateful spiteful creature. She waits until you’re asleep then proceeds to remove items from your purse, never to be seen again. Where else could my lighters, chapstick, money and other items disappear to? They don’t get sucked up by black holes. That’s what happens to socks. I just want to know where my personal items seem to vanish to.

That’s where the Purse and Tooth Fairy come in. I’m on to their little scam. Purse Fairy steals your stuff. She then pawns said items, takes a “fee” for herself, and gives the rest to the Tooth Fairy. Tooth Fairy gives money to toothless kids who waste it on candy and video games.

Why would the Purse Fairy give money, for no seemingly good reason, to the Tooth Fairy? Who was once a sworn enemy of Purse Fairy? I’m still working on solving THAT mystery but I’m guessing it has something to do with Santa Claus and a crazy weekend bender. Just sayin’.

It was a few weeks ago, in a crowded bar with some friends of mine, that I began debating the reasons for the existence of O’Doul’s and other non-alcoholic beers. Like most people, I was under the impression that O’Doul’s was just ridiculous and unnecessary. It was the night after my OWI and here I was, at the local watering hole, attempting to limit my drinking and behave. It wasn’t too difficult to say no but, dammit, I like the taste of beer. Then the light bulb went off.

My head was flooded with many excellent reasons for the drinking of O’Doul’s. Alcoholics, for one, who can’t get enough beer but cannot handle being intoxicated. Heaven forbid I ever spawn, but if I’m knocked-up, O’Doul’s would be an option. It is a placebo beer. Harmless, right? But most of all, if I was out and just HAD TO HAVE a beer, once again, O’Doul’s would save me from another OWI. I understand that they are not completely devoid of alcohol. Yet, at less than 0.5%, they might as well be.

First question asked; How much would I have to drink to hit the legal limit? Being out and about and too lazy to look it up, I let my mind wander a bit for a few minutes. I drifted into thoughts about how much I loathed the cops. Then, the best idea I may have ever of had hit me. Like a lightning bolt.

One night, I’m getting a case of O’Doul’s. I’m drinking as much of it as I can possibly stomach. At that point, I should be nothing more than slightly nauseous and partially annoyed at having spent money on that shit. Drunk; I won’t be drunk or anywhere close to being drunk. I also know that one can get pulled over for simply swerving and/or going slow. As long as one is not drunk, speeding, or packing anything illegal, they will be let off with an irritated warning from the cop.

Now, for the fun part. I decided I would take a trip to Tosa. They might have the worst cops in the whole area of Milwaukee, though, I’d like to get back at the Greenfield PD as well. All I need to do is drive through the streets slightly swerving and not speeding. I wait to get pulled. The officer, being clever as he thinks he is, will most likely smell the beer on my breath and assume I’m drunk. Me being me, I will encourage his assumptions. Aggravate them a little. I can’t walk correctly sober nor do I know the alphabet backwards so it won’t be a hard act for me to put on. Then, the moment of awesomeness will arrive. The moment the breathalyzer comes backs well below the limit. This is when I laugh, get into my vehicle, and drive off like a normal, sane and sober person.

Why is that funny? If you have to ask then you have no sense of humor. Or perhaps you don’t despise the police as much as I do. At any rate, the sheer idea of a cop wasting so much time trying to arrest a person for an OWI amuses me. And that’s all that counts, really.

Anonymous asked: Do you tend to act as a confidante, or prefer to have a confidante?

I prefer to have the confidante. I talk too much for anything else. They both have their perks however.

I’m not too sure about this. I honestly feel a little silly writing about myself. However, I like me and I like my thoughts. If nothing else, perhaps I can garner a laugh or two from someone, somewhere. Be warned; my writing is simple. Not the greatest; not the worst. Expect nothing. This is nothing more than an outlet for my random musings.

For starters, since I’m rather bored and maybe because there are people reading this who may NOT know me…I’ll list 25 weird and random facts about myself. Cliche, I know. But at least it’ll paint a small portrait of who I am.

25 Facts About Me

1. I could eat fried chicken everyday. Every. Single. Day.

2. My uncle Roy was the greatest influence in my young life. He is the reason why I am the way I am. So blame him.

3. Years of gratuitous weed usage and nonstop viewing of the Food Network taught me how to cook.

4. I have the coolest job ever. It’s not a career but until I find one of those thingies, it’s pretty tops.

5. My imagination and humor are BY FAR my best attributes. When my brain deteriorates, I would appreciate it if someone could give me the “Old Yeller” treatment.

6. I rarely think before I talk. I think it’s just part of the charm.

7. I believe that one’s friends will often impart the most amazing wisdom.

8. I believe in doing one random act of kindness a day. For someone I don’t know and will probably never see again. Then I never mention it. There’s no point to doing good deeds if one brags about it. I wish more people thought that way.

9. Rocky and Bullwinkle and Pink Panther were the greatest cartoons ever created.

10. I’ve lived in three states and four cities. Multiple small towns. Multiple times in a few of these places. Moving is my forte.

11. Dave Sedaris and George Carlin never fail to make me laugh. Out loud. Always.

12. I am the world’s worst driver. Sorry womenkind everywhere, but I am the bitch giving you all the bad name.

13. I wasn’t licensed to drive til I was 22.

14. I cannot swim. I’d love to learn how but never have. It’s a goal of mine.

15. I want to start my own adult P.E. class. Just for my friends and I. Or we can just call it “Drunken Kickball.” Either way.

16. I’m slowly coming to terms with the fact that, eventually, I’m gonna want to have a kid and possibly get married. That’s something I never thought I’d say. I’m getting old.

17. My biggest dream is to be alive when the world ends. Those 30 seconds of self-satisfaction are going to be AMAZING. If I have time, I’ll write a note for future civilizations, complete with misinformation.

18. I love the studies of archaeology and anthropology. I’m convinced that we, as a people trying desperately to piece together history, are getting some of it wrong. What if nothing survives our civilization except for tabloid magazines?

19. I’m not slutty. “Vaginally irresponsible” is the preferred nomenclature.

20. I was told once that I was “fast and easy.” Fast with a quip and easy on the eyes. Truer words have never been spoken.

21. I have a dog and two cats. I love them immensely.

22. If I had to believe in something, it would be Mother Nature. I think it’s no coincidence that huge disasters often happen in the most crowded areas of the world.

23. There is no better barbeque sauce than Carolina Treet.

24. I have just recently discovered for myself the fine art of being and staying positive. Shit happens. You can be pissed or you can find the silver lining. Either way, whatever happens is going to happen. So sorry.

25. I refuse to drink Kool-Aid that I did not make, take part in making, or that I did not watch being made.

There’s more. So, so much more. This should suffice for now. Can’t read the whole book all at once, now can we?