Useful Posts for the author, writer and blogger in you #WriterTips

Over on my blog, I recently ran a series of posts dedicated to help others, mainly from a reader’s point of view. Check out the links of ones which interest you.


Rosie's Notebook


May 6th 2015 – Checking your WordPress is linked to your Twitter helps others share your posts http://wp.me/p2Eu3u-7L2

May 13th 2015 – Writer’s Craft books by Rayne Hall full of REALLY useful tips http://wp.me/p2Eu3u-7Ma

May 20th 2015 – Hyperlinks, Short links and Linkys http://wp.me/p2Eu3u-7Rl

May 27th 2015 – Making your post titles easy to share on Twitter to maximise views. http://wp.me/p2Eu3u-7SA

June 17th 2015 – Creating Twitter pics that fit http://wp.me/p2Eu3u-7Y4

June 24th 2015 – Creating a slideshow on WordPress http://wp.me/p2Eu3u-7Yo

July 1st 2015 – Getting the most out of Google+ posts http://wp.me/p2Eu3u-7YM

July 8th 2015 – Automated Tweets, LOVE ‘EM or HATE ‘EM? make use of them http://wp.me/p2Eu3u-7Za

July 15th 2015 – What’s Your Book Genre? http://wp.me/p2Eu3u-84S

July 22nd 2015 – Should you write dreams into your work? http://wp.me/p2Eu3u-84Q

July 29th 2015 – What can I read in the first 10% of your book? http://wp.me/p2Eu3u-84W

August 5th 2015 – Dialogue – he/she said http://wp.me/p2Eu3u-87T

August 12th 2015 – Creating Twitter Lists – http://wp.me/p2Eu3u-8ck

August 19th 2015 – Making best use of your Twitter “Thank-You” http://wp.me/p2Eu3u-8cn



Remember me?
It’s Trey…
I used to be quite prolific on this forum of ours, for a wanna be blogger sans talent or education.

I ran into life, lately.


It’s funny how that happens, ain’t it?
You’re just walking around, doing your thing and BAM!!

Life reminds us that we are real.
We forget…

Life reminds us that we are human and subject to external stimuli such as politicians, preachers, perverts and easily offended people.

God Bless America….

Life reminds us that although it goes on and on in whatever form it chooses i.e., bacteria, ashes to ashes and dust to space dust, we do not go along for the entire ride.

Life reminds us, over and over, that our bodies will not last forever and sometimes, they just can’t or won’t hold the ghost. No matter how much we pray, fast, repent or
sell the occasional kidney or cornea.

I had an 80% blockage in my heart.

They found it by accident.

I thought I was just getting checked out for a chest cold, though I never get sick, you see.


I grew up on a pig farm. I am impervious to viruses and bacterium.

I have never had the flu.
I hardly ever get colds, unless I smooch on my disease ridden wife or kid….


I can’t remember the last time I was ill that was not caused by Budweiser.

My wife gives me headaches, does that count?

“You need a stent”
This isn’t real.
This only happens to other people.

I was scared but, hey! I don’t’ have cancer….right?!

“No, you don’t have cancer”
Thank God for small favors, or perhaps a big one.

I have beloved that are fighting cancer as I type….I have no idea what it would cost in really real pain.

Cancer only happens to other people….

I recently saw a little blind boy, couldn’t have been more than 4 years old, celebrate stepping off a curb using his new blind person cane. Please watch:
Handicap able!

His mom was so excited for him and you would have thought he was Superman….the way they carried on.

Silly, lovely people….

I’m such an asshole sometimes…..an ungrateful asshole.
Guilt feels good.


I see healthy, energetic, talented people brought back to reality by disease, circumstances or just shitty luck.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen, with their bald heads and weight loss, blown off body parts and wheelchairs; their bankruptcy and suicides.

I won’t bitch about my heart stent.

And that goes completely against my nature….about anything, except maybe getting used to this new keyboard.

I have no right to bitch; not over really real stuff.

My heart is fixed, for the time being.

I still have to take pills and I eat like a caveman that hasn’t discovered fire.

I watched the whole heart Stent installation procedure unfold as the total strangers invaded my body.

I watched my smoky gray heart on a black and white TV with a little squiggly line bouncing around.

I would’ve preferred Hi Def…

I was amazed when they told me that they would be inserting the stent catheter into my wrist vein to get to my heart.

“But….my heart is in my chest…”


I re-educated the physician, pointing to the center of my chest.

The Doctor in Sponge Bob scrubs poked me in the chest, a little right of my poking finger and said “Yep, I’ve seen a few and it’s more like right here.”

Smart ass Doctor with all of his thousands of surgeries and 500 years of school! I know where my damn heart i! It’s in my freaking throat!

Do you know what the doctor said during my procedure?

DO YOU!!??

Dr Sponge Bob quotes: I swear TO GOD!!!
“Crap, that isn’t right, I don’t think that’s supposed to spurt like that”
“Hold on Trey, this is gonna hurt like hell”
“Nurse, cut off his pain meds, he’s a tough guy”
“Now where is that dang heart you were pointing at?”
“Hmmph, I think….I’m done”
“Where’d that damn stent go…?”

Ha. Ha. Ha.


Never let the doctors know you have a sense of humor as sick as theirs.

Reminded me…..Doctors are human, too.

I guess that’s what scared me the most during the whole procedure, I reckon….and afterwards for sure; Kinda like a post operative flinch.

My doctor was a human. Wow….a really real person.

But, it sure helped to have a doctor that laughed when I cussed him out.

It takes a special kind of person to be a doctor, nurse or cop.
Try to remember what it takes to care for a sick hubby, wife or child.
Gets old quick, don’t it.


Now do it for 50 plus years with every conceivable ailment known to man occurring without going bat-shit from all of the sorrow, pain and suffering that you can’t do a damn thing to alleviate other than making them comfortable….

Oh, and try not to curse or blame God.

Now that I think about it, that’s when I know that I won’t have long to live;
When I hear the doctors say “We’re just trying to keep him as comfortable as possible”

I’ll take a cussing, condescending surgeon any day, thank ye.

Anyways, let’s wrap this up, I gotta go to work….yes, on a Sunday.
Yes, I am a sinner.
Yes, I am a pagan heretic…

I got my stent. Only cost me $34,342.00
My heart is fine.
I am broke.
My old laptop crashed, that’s why you haven’t heard from me as consistently as you need to.

I got back ahead a little bit and took a chance and bought my own truck; don’t be crazy, I’m leasing it.


I can’t afford $130,000!

New bionic heart…taking chances!

Oh, if any of you are new to my blog I drive an 18 wheeler for a living. Yes, all 48 states…except NYC metro.

Only crazy people go there.

Oh, I’m on a Hopi Reservation somewhere in Arizona, right now.

I get to see places most people only read about.
And yes….this country is beautiful.


Just ignore the politicians, litter, abandoned towns and buildings and places where you grew up that are gone and where there’s a parking lot or Walmart there, now.

I’m not gonna bitch.
I’m pretty lucky, really.
I’ve been blessed to put up with other humans on my earth for 51 years and survived…to a point.

I’ll try and remember…..
I am not a blind 4 year old on a curb….
But, I could have been.
You could have been.

Sunday Message: Nothing is trivial

p.s: I’m glad to be writing again. Even if it’s on this stupid Nextbook keyboard that took 30 minutes longer to type out this post than it should have…..


p.s2: I will not bitch

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Hi….My name is Sudan, and I’m a white rhino.

Last. Male. Forever.

I am self aware and I remember, so that makes me a person; according to humans.Sudan-the-last-male-north-009

I like moonlit walks across the savannah, grazing on the savannah, wallowing in the mud on the savannah, drinking water on the savannah and sometimes indulging my inner hippie and eating the occassional psychadelic mushroom.

I don’t like cheetahs, they’re arrogant asses.

I don’t like vultures because all they do is stare at you; very rude and they suck at conversation.

I don’t like hyenas at all because individauls with annoying laughs GRATE ON YOUR FREAKING NERVES, don’t they?! Always giggling at the wrong time….turd lickers find everything hilarious…..

I don’t like giraffes either because they’re always looking down their noses at you….

You seen that one coming, didn’t you? Sorry, couldn’t help it. Giraffes are okay.

I don’t like humans much; well, maybe except the guys with guns that follow me around all the time, they’re cool.

My own private mafia.

I try and pretend I’m the president with my secret service contingent or maybe Kim Kardashian with my bodyguards.

The problem with humans is that you never know where you stand with them, you can’t tell if they like you or not.

I don’t know if it’s just me but, the most nervous I get around them is when they smile at me and try and pet me like I’m a house cat or something.

A human smile is very unsettling to me….I never know what they’re thinking.

I guess that’s how that dude Ceaser felt.download

I haven’t really trusted humans much since they cut off part of my face, now that I think about it.

Anyways, I’m getting off track.

Here’s the facts:

I can understand mans languages…..all of them.

All animals can; I bet y’all didn’t know that did you, Mr. Masters of the Universe?

We don’t speak back to you because y’all are stupid. Not ignorant, stupid.

We have this hang up about not stating the obvious; oh! and we loathe redundancy.

If y’all were just ignorant I think we could get along, that way we’d know how to deal with you better and at least pardon you for some of your actions; kinda like dealing with kids really.

You know something else? God told us it was gonna be like this when y’all got kicked out of the Garden.

Ha! I bet you stupid bastards can’t even remember where the garden is, do you?

We remember everything, forever and ever and ever; not just the freakin’ elephants remember stuff, you know, we all do.

Our folks’ memories are in our blood; from the first to the last.

I can’t help feeling sorry for you, though. I can remember what your first parents were like.

They understood us, they talked to us, they protected us from ourselves and they WEREN’T STUPID!! THEY, WERE JUST IGNORANT!images (3)

That’s how the serpent fooled them…..they trusted him; I wish they’d stomped on that bastards pointy head.

We all trusted one another at one time….hard to believe, ain’t it?

Well, it’s damn sure hard to believe now that we trusted y’all, that we KNEW man would watch over us and keep us safe, we freaking knew it.

That was a long time ago though and unfortunately we had to learn different, the hard way.

Why do you think rhino’s, elephants and crocodiles always look like we’re crying?


I have known for a long time that I am the last male of my species.

I’m 42 years old and I can’t make babies anymore; that ship has sailed.

Basically, after me…..we’re gone…..forever.

Y’all have been taking blood samples from me for a while now, since y’all started playing God.

Dr. Bukumbo said it was for future attempts to try and revive us at a later date, laboratory style.

Well, you know how us animals hate stating the obvious but, let me tell you humans this; it’s easier to keep us alive while we’re ALIVE!

Besides…God will never let it happen. Anything you guys attempt will be an abomination and he won’t stand for it.

Trust me on this.

He told y’all this a long time ago. It’s even in your bible!

Oh, that’s right, some of your people left that part out because it was deemed “heretical”

I am sad, I guess.images (1)

First off, I don’t want to be alone but, I hope I die before the girls because it’s really gonna suck for one of them when they are really really the last one on earth.

I can’t imagine what it’s gonna be like, I mean, it’s in every living thing on earths blood to make babies and carry on with our kind, it’s not natural not to make babies.

Hell, I can remember what my kids looked like…..every one of them.

They’re all dead, of course…redundancy?

Killed by humans for their “ivory” .

Ivory……It’s freaking hair, people.

You killed my species, and my kids…..my babies…….because our “ivory” is pretty.

Some knuckle dragging, spear chucking human, thousands of years ago put a value on our nose bone….and thats all she wrote.

You can’t eat it…..so, I don’t get it.

Oh, that’s right, it has magical properties and makes nice piano keys.

I see why now, I’d blow someones brains out and cut off their face if I found anything of value on a humans body.

That’s a good point.

You humans are the only species on earth that puts value on rocks, dirt, water, air, animal poop, trees, grass….it’s amazing.

What in the hell was God thinking?

Why didn’t the human that got the bright idea of making ivory valuable; oh, we call it our booger bone by the way amongst ourselves, what’s left of us at least….I’m being obvious again….God, I hate that.

Why didn’t he put value on my ass, huh? That way he could take it home and KISS IT, anytime he wanted!

Kiss it and hug it and pet it and say sweet things to it….IT’S RIGHT HERE! Come and get you some!

I’m so tired of this….the waiting.

I watch these guys around me with their guns and radios, wondering how weird my life has turned out.

They cut off my booger bone and I was no longer valuable……to them.

I feel valuable. I mean, I like living and doing stuff.

You know, here’s an idea!

Y’all didn’t have to kill me to get my ivory….did you?

Why couldn’t y’all have done that to all of us?images

I’d rather you just dart us with some dope, cut the damn things off and let us be, y’all didn’t have to kill us all….

That’s what really pisses me off, what’s gonna happen now Mr. Dominant Species, God appointed Stewards of the Earth when we’re all gone and can’t make anymore ivory for your art deco, you buncha stupid a-holess!!??

I’m sorry..

I know that most of y’all are sorry that we’re about to go extinct and be gone forever.

But, ain’t it funny that y’all don’t stop this crap before it gets out of hand?

No, it ain’t funny, it ain’t funny one F’n bit!

You hairless wonders have killed us off!!!

For a freaking bone, you stupid !!!

Oh, by the way….
Just heard tell that some human put a bullet in Cecil.

Yeah, I wanna live in a world where the king isn’t even safe.

You know Cecil had kids, right?

He had a whole pride of lionesses, cubs, relatives that depended on him and the human didn’t have one seconds thought about that. He just skinned Cecil while he was laying in the dirt, kicking and dying.

I hope the Cubs didn’t see that.

Cecils little brother ain’t ready for that job. He’s still just a kid himself.

I’m tired of y’all.

Y’all have really disappointed us.images (2)

If y’all had done what God had asked you to do in the beginning we wouldn’t be where we ar; would we?

Probably not…..you crack heads can’t do nothing right, you’d bust up an anvil with a rubber hammer.

You know something…..?

Screw you….just, screw you.

You killed us, you killed us all.

Most of you didn’t pull the triggers but, you let it happen.

I bet if we went “moo moo” you buncha retards would have kept us going forever.

It still doesn’t seem real to me….

I’m the last male standing…..on earth……

Like I said before;

Screw you again, with sugar on top.

We really appreciate what you’ve done for us.

"All I have to do is clap"

“All I have to do is clap”

No, really.

Now that I think about it, I want off this ride.

People suck, sometimes.

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Biding My Time

“Life is something to do while I’m waiting to die…”
– Trey

The day I was born I thought, “So what do I do now?”

I knew before I got here that my time down here on this terrestrial plane was going to be limited.

I accepted that fact, believing in my pre-mortal ignorance “How hard could it be?”

I mean, I’d been here forever.

I’d survived creation, Lucifers little rebellion, y’alls creation, what you guys call “the Flood”…

All kinds of stuff, I’ve seen; both here and there; stuff y’all haven’t done, what “HE” hasn’t done, what we’ve all done….

Yes, I include myself, I’m not placing all the blame on y’all; because I’ve been a man down here amongst y’all myself for the past 50 years and have had my share of failures and triumphs, as hollow and trivial as it all seems, now that I look back on it.


I can’t really say that I’ve enjoyed my time while I’ve been here.

I’d sayyy… 80 sucked/20 memorable

Years of terror interrupted by a few hours of bliss….

In all honesty, if I’d known what it was actually gonna be like when I got here, I’d have never come.

I’d be like “Uh, kiss my angelic ass, I ain’t goin’ down there with all that crazy shit”

I’d much rather go back to the olden days and fight Lucifer and his bunch armed with swords and axes other than coming down here and having to deal with him every fucking minute, armed only with my free will and my conscience?

That’s just crazy talk!

Ha… Free will…
Ain’t nothin’ free people.
Y’all taught me that.

I’m not gonna drag out this tirade of mine too long today because I get tired of listening to myself bitch and knowing that no one is listening and no one gives a shit anyway…

It’s pointless to bitch….

Oh, it makes me feel better I guess but that’s not the intent, is it?

Bitchings’ main purpose in life is to be heard and appreciated, ain’t it?

There is absolutely nothing you, me, we, can do about it.

Praying is talking to yourself….

Humility is embarrassing and overrated…and makes people beat your ass….

Charity is weakness and the death of humility since when a person does something nice they want to be acknowledged as selfless, caring and a good person…

Don’t lie… It’s a human thing. Bad as we hate it sometimes.

Charity availeth no man…

Humility is the ultimate singular oxymoron and non-sensical analogy.

Plus, it’s one of the few words I know of, maybe the only word, that has a meaning, a description, examples…..and it doesn’t exist…can’t exist….not down here.

How can you say you’re humble without not “being” humble…?

See that’s the kinda conundrum bullshit I agreed to deal with when I “volunteered” to come down here and be all…….human.

If I’d only known….


But, I know now, don’t I?

I swear to God that’s why God made suicide and murder a sin.

We’d all be killing ourselves and others as a kindness to get the hell outta here!


I know… I’m sorry…

Not really.

Most of this world and the people in it have driven me to this despair.

Life is what you make it…

Kiss my ass…

My mortal dad always said “There’s only one ass that the undertaker stuffs with cotton when you die and that’s the only one you should worry about”

We never had a chance coming down here….

There’s too many of us with too much free will, too little patience, virtually no guidance and way too little culpability.

It’s a tragedy, ain’t it?

We come into this world all pink and shiny but go out of it grey and cold.

Life is something we do while we’re waiting to die…

My death is the only thing in my life I can count on that is real and will last forever.

No, I don’t wanna die yet. I’m too scared and I can’t remember what it was like there, before.

My faith died the first time God didn’t punish the boy that raped me….

I prayed for it, but…..

No justice for the scared little mortal boy that had once been a great warrior in the battle for Heaven.

I could fight off the numerous ranks of Lucifers host but not a 13 year old pervert….?!

Ironic….aint it? ………sad, too.

I’m wondering, now, if we all came down here because it was bad there….


War in heaven, War here….

Life has been a waste of my time and energy.

I should have kept my mouth shut and my wings spread…

If I ever get back to heaven I will NEVER EVER volunteer for anything again! I SWEAR TO GOD AND ALL THAT’S HOLY!!

Life is what you make it.

True….but the deck was stacked against us, right from the get go.

Unfortunately, there were other people here, too.

And you can’t count on any of them.

There is such things as self interest, self preservation…. Self.

I never had a chance….

One against billions with the same idea….

To, survive.

But, that’s just me.

Maybe y’all can do better.

I hope so.

Maybe we’ll run into each other on the other side.

I hope so.

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Where does inspiration come from?

It comes from recent rain and rainbows, music from your past, a babbling brook that loves to download (2)gossip, fresh cut grass that makes your tennis shoes green, or a beautiful woman that takes your breath away.

It can come from babies laughing, a word on a roadside sign, the way a person treats another or it can come from a sudden flash of understanding and perspective about something you weren’t even thinking about in just that moment; as a matter of fact you haven’t thought about it in sometime then…”BOOM” there it is….

Then, there’s the other place that inspiration comes from….

It can come from the dark, when your eyes are closed and your mind is supposed to be at rest.

It can come to you in the night; where things go “bump”

When it comes, it is the type of nightmare that nightmares hope they never have….

It’s real….

I would not categorize what happened to me last night, whilst in my heavenly repose, as a nightmare.

I did not twitch, jerk, wet my bed, sweat or wake up screaming tangled in twisted blankets and all of my pillows on the floor.

I woke up quietly.wpid-wp-1417908021574.jpeg

My eyes did not jerk open in alarm or horror.

They didn’t open the way eyes normally do.

They opened the way they do when you’re afraid of what you might see.

“Am I back?”

Not “awake”….”Am I back?”

I remember whispering that this morning after I laid there for a while, in the dimming light, only a small, gray sliver of light from the window to stare at.

That’s what struck me a little later.

I had gotten up slowly, musing on how real the “episode” had seemed and how much of it I remembered.

It wasn’t like your typical dream, or mine usually; running thru our fingers like water or sand as Dickinson would say.

This one was sticking….

I dressed slowly, I got up slowly, I moved slowly….

I was exhausted from a burden that I carried in my heart and mind.

As I walked up the echoing sidewalk toward the office under a cloudy, morning sky, I stopped.

Why did I whisper “Am I back” and not “Am I awake”?

Did I actually go somewhere else?

Did that mysterious part of my brain know something that I didn’t?wpid-20150109_062042-picsay.jpg

How else could I return from the undiscovered country of my mind unless it has known how to get there and back in the first place, like it’s been there before, as if though it were a real place.

One thing was for sure…

I don’t wanna go back there.

It is a dark place where you go to scratch at old wounds and make them bleed.

It is a place where you cannot cry, only watch.

It is a place where you only talk to yourself.

But, in Gods infinite goodness, there was no running or screaming in this “place”, nothing chasing me, nothing breathing in the dark…..

The only monster there, is me.

This is the place we go to, to re-visit mistakes and regrets as a restrained and gagged bystander, as a silent witness to your own stupidity and ignorance.

It is the place where you re-live your past and there is NOTHING THAT YOU CAN DO TO CHANGE ANY OF IT.

The only power you have is to toss your head in your sleep and moan “no….”   “No….”

You don’t gasp “wake up” because you don’t remember that you’re asleep; you know…I know, that this is as real as it gets.

In the awake place we can force ourselves to quit dwelling on the past, to get on with our lives, to quit “beating ourselves up”; we’re only human after all, we all make mistakes.wpid-img_20150220_121756-picsay.jpg

Not there, not in the undiscovered country of our minds.

The monster that is you sits across from you in a small room and tells you a story.

It is not a long story but, it is true.

….oh, so true….and dark.

“Am I back?”

You cannot protest, you cannot cover your ears, you cannot look away.

I have to look at myself.

The worst part is, is that you are unable to make excuses.

Your monster that is you, knows that you’re a liar….

He knows how I can be….or was.

And he will never….EVER, let me forget.

But, you still try to soften the condemnations….

This isn’t real….

“Am I back?”

When the monster that is you has finished with your tale, you just sit there, swathed in fresh guilt and regrets, all of the old wounds begin to fester anew.

The fresh whip marks across your shoulders, face and back burn and gape.

No one can punish you with such ferocity and relentless spite and contempt, as can the very own monster that is you.

s,v,“Look what you’ve done” it keeps saying…..

And I looked…..



I opened my eyes.

My eyes did not jerk open in alarm or horror.

They didn’t open the way eyes normally do.

They opened the way they do when you’re afraid of what you might see.

“Am I back?”


I’m sitting here in our break-room writing this. I am looking around at the vending machines, a gurgling coffee pot and occasionally glancing up at the humming lights. I’ll tap a key or two on my laptop as a new thought or memory about last night comes to me.

“Am I back?”

I can’t tell…..

It feels….

….like that other place.

Wish I may...

Wish I may…

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Move Along, Nothing To See Here…


What does one write about when there is absolutely nothing to write about on a Thursday morning in Arkansas?

I know, I know..there’s tons to write about.Trey Header

There’s always the golden standards to draw inspiration from like; war, murder, rape, robbery, adultery, crime in general, celebrity antics and addictions, boobs, cats, food, political intrigue, political bias, political hypocrisy, political gains  and a whole myasma of other mind numbing, trance inducing, interesting, irrelevant, verbose, irritating, excrutiatingly, redundant crap….

Its sad to think that human misery is pretty much the most creative muse mankind has where art and expression is concerned…

Yeah, a sunrise can be quite breath-taking and flowers are glorious to behold….blah, blah, blah; but atrocity and chaos is much more……what’s a good word…


Look at what I’m doing right now…

I couldn’t think of anything to write about this morning, then thought about writing about what everyone else seems to be writing about….

….as noted above.

From those of you that visit my blog on a regular basis you have probably noticed that the majority of my posts can be quite inane at times. (I hate you Rene’; for teaching me that word)

But…this has probably happened to some of you;

You can’t think of a damn thing to write about on subjects that you probably started your blog for in the first place,like cat videos, recipes, art or poetry….Syracuse, New York (Mark!)

So, you write about what you see on the news; other peoples blogs spur creativity, Facebook posts, Tweets and so forth.

And most of the time its that negative input that creates the idea.

Humans are soo stupid!!!

Humans are soo stupid!!!

Who wants to write about Kitty Kitty when a white cop shoots a black person or other irrelevant minority?

It shouldn’t matter who a cop shoots; White guy, black guy, green guy, yellow guy, polka dotted guy….

It shouldn’t matter who a religious fanatic murders. Baptist, Catholic, Muslim, Hindi, Holy Roller…..

It doesn’t matter who a raper rapes…babies, women, old people, other rapers….

It doesn’t matter what country attacks another country….

Does it really matter? I mean, really….

Who cares? Me….you….anybody….?

Does it really matter in the scheme of things when a “reverand” gives 900 followers some funny tasting Kool-aid and tells them “We’re all gonna go see Jesus” and the sheep say “Amen” and drink to his health.

What matters is that the rest of us….no one in particular mind you, I’m just…well, you know what I’m saying; the rest of us ALLOW IT.

Good men do nothing (and women)

See? I can be politically correct and gender sensitive.

We feed the frenzy by propagating it with attention that is misdirected, improper, immature, irresponsible and catastrophic.

We fan the flames of interest by staying morbidly interested.

We, bunch of sick bastards.

Don’t lie.wpid-ashamed.jpeg

Everyone likes to see a car wreck…..don’t lie.

Everyone likes to watch a house burn…don’t lie

Everyone likes to watch a terrorist cut a mans head off on YouTube…..don’t lie.

“I can’t watch!” “OMG! why are they always wearing hoods and why wear orange jump suits in the desert?”

Don’t get me wrong….okay, maybe one littl lie.

There are thousands and thousands of good,responsible writers, socially atuned bloggers and heart felt activists on our planet with us, at this very moment, that try and keep the enemies outside the gates.

I shudder to think what it’s gonna be like when we all give up fighting the inevitable….

I shudder to think what it’s gonna be like when we really just don’t give a shit anymore….as long as it doesn’t affect me and mine.

Get this straight, people….

It ALL matters, baby.


We are all cells of the same virus that is destroying this world.

We’re gonna eat ourselves out of house and home.

We’re killing the host.

It doesn’t matter how hard we try to save the patient.

It won’t matter how much we cry to the sky and ask or beg God to save us from our iniquities.

God doesn’t listen to us anymore…why should he?

index302I would’nt listen to a bunch of insane people that can’t even figure shit out on their own and have to be constantly reminded and given a natural disaster or two to try and get their attention.

I’d be pissed, if someone killed my son when he was only trying to help in the first place….

You know what?

I’m making myself mad and disgusted the more I think about what I’m writing and the truth of it all.

The sad thing is that I am a normally an upbeat and happy person; hence the usual “inane” blog material (Damn yer hide, Rene’!)

I’m proving my point about the point of this post.

I had nothing, particularly stimulating or riveting as usual, in mind to write about this morning.

So, I looked at the news, surfed my Facebook account and ended up with a bad mood and bitching material.

Ok, lets pretend that I’m not a Christian or a Mormon….

Let’s pretend that I am only a realist.

Okay, okay…you can be a realist, too.

We are never promised the next second.wpid-20140923_204744-picsay.jpg

We are never promised another sunrise.

We are never promised that winter will end and that the flowers will return.

Nothing is certain…..N-O-T-H-I-N-G.

Make the best of what you have, they say.

Eat, drink and be merry….because…well, you know.

We can’t all be Scottish and be jolly; just 1/64th Cherokee or Dutch Irish it seems…(scottishmumus!)

I’m getting side tracked

Good thing I can’t live that way; hopeless I mean.

Good thing I don’t believe that way; Godless I mean….

Good thing I woke up this morning and the sky was blue, just a few clouds, and I sneezed and had boogers because the flowers are blooming and kicking out tons of allergy aggravating pollen, damn their eyes.

Oh, that’s right….We’re all gonna die because the bee’s are disappearing.

Dang…I forgot about the disappearing bee’s…


Ignore everything I wrote above, I’m just a young’un that don’t know nuthin'(English Prof!)

I wanna be a treacherous old bastard when i grow up! LOL!!!

I wanna be a treacherous old bastard when I grow up! LOL!!!

We’re all gonna die because the scientist and learn-ed people say we are.

Asteroid, global warming, religious fanaticism, mutually assured destruction, disappearing bee’s….cholesterol.

One thing life is really good at is extinction.

“C’est la vie”….or is it more like “C’est la mort”

Why does life have to be so hard?

Why can’t we just have bubbles and butterflies and free banana splits!?

Oh, yeah…here’s something else;

Our 400 million years as a species on this planet, amongst billions of other planets, is overdue, I believe….

We’re doing pretty good beating the curve.

(Ominous background music)

I’m so glad we’re in the center of the universe and nothing else matters….and that we’re all there is….

Ignorance is truly blissful and Denial is a nice this time of year, they say.


Nature is nature and God is God….

….man is man (and woman)

We don’t have a chance in hell of getting out of this life, alive….

Hmmph.images (18)

I’m glad I wrote this tirade.

Maybe the next scientists on this planet will dig up our bones and cities, millions of years from now ,and wonder why OUR brains were so small and wonder if we knew how to make words, stone tools and why some of our throwing weapons were made out of pig skin or a material called NERF…..

We can always hope.

….unless we stop.

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Keep In Mind

I don’t know why I have the trials that I have…

I don’t go in for the whole “God only gives you what you can handle” crap.wpid-1421193207412.jpg

If that’s true, I would tell God to quit being so damn generous….

You know what’s really hard, or at least kind of frustrating…?

Like when I’m having a tough time I always have to add “Well, it could be worse” or “There’s lots of people in this world that have it tougher than me”

That positive thinking trick to work myself out of my funk can be a real pain in the ass sometimes.

Sometimes when I’m having a bad time I don’t want to be positive or think happy thoughts…

Screw Peter Pan and all the Lost Boys and freaking Snata Claus and the Easter Bunny!

Screw TinkerBell and her freaking magic fairy flying dust!

Sometimes I just want to BITCH and COMPLAIN and let everyone know that my life is TERRIBLE and that no one has it worse than me, that I should be PITIED, that I should be ESTEEMED and held in AWE for my ability to trudge thru the varying levels of my ill usage and misery, in wallowing about my self pity and martyrdom as if splashing about a dreary, seething quagmire of throbbing, pulsing poop stuff….

Sometimes I just wanna scream “Look at me! Life has shatteth(?) upon me! Pity me, tell everyone you know that Trey is being dealt a dirty hand, is the victim of “dirty pool” that I am the only human on earth that has it this bad and that my life, if it can be described as such, is truly the epitome, nay, the gold standard of just how bad and unfair and cruel life can be…..

Sometimes I just don’t give a flying poop about other peoples problems!!!

Sometimes I just want it, need it to be only about me….

Woe unto me….

I hate the fact that God’s plan for my life included child abuse, drug abuse and alcoholism…

I hate the fact that “his” plan for me meant I had to be lower middle class and work for a living.

I would have been an excellent rich person.

I would have been kind to the little people.

wpid-drama_king_by_liebatron-d55mt7h.pngBut enough about other little people!

Lets get back to me!

I hate the fact that “his” plan meant that I had to be divorced 3 times, estranged from my children and not appreciated for my rugged good looks and intelligence.

I would have been an excellent product pitch guy….

You know what I really hate…?

I would have been a great Dad!!!

If it just wasn’t for the whole selfish, alcoholic, irresponsible things…

But get this…

That freaking humanity rears its freaking head…

I hate the fact that I am aware that I can make fun of myself and eventually work my self out of a funk by writing in my blog and bitching to “strangers” about how terrible my life is and how mean everyone is to me.

I hate the fact that as I write, I can see how silly I sound.

As I write, I can see just how damn silly it all is to get worked up about anything.

As I write, I know that I can forgive myself for being human.

I don’t like to admit it….

I do, so like to bitch…..as evidenced.

My acceptance of being human and its “intricacies” doesn’t mean that I will forget about my short-comings mind you, it just means that the reason I can still get pissed at myself is that I am still capable or hopeful that I am still desirous to expect better things from myself, that I have high standards for myself.20150215_093911

As I write, I can actually convince myself that I can make it better; that I am a creator of worlds.

As I write, I can fool myself into believing that I have a purpose, that God does have a plan for me and that I like writing fiction because I can believe that anything is possible.

If I can imagine it, it can happen….

Its kind of like…magic.

Sorry, Tink…


I am better off than lots of people, unfortunately.

My journey thru life hasn’t been that terrible….interesting…but not too bad.

At least I can still appreciate beauty and creativity.

I still have the capacity to love others more than myself.

I still have the ability to wish I could do more….

I am 50 years old and I still ask God to let me be a super-hero so that I can save the world….

As I write, I can “fix” my thinking.

You know what…?

I’m sorry I was being insensitive earlier in my post. I’m sorry if you’re having a bad day so far.

Yeah…I’m an alcoholic, yeah…I’ve done some stupid shit in my life and yeah…I’ve gotten mad at God and not talked to him for a while and, yeah….sometimes I just like to bitch and feel sorry for myself.


download (64)As I write…..I remember that I am only a man and I am human.

I am not perfect…but dadgummit! I keep trying to do better and I still care!

I haven’t given in or given up.

One day…..

One day….

As I write, I can create worlds.

“Let there be light” said God

…and it was good.


I will create my own day.

….and it WILL be good.


Writer…heal thyself.

I feel better already.

I just don’t trust me…..

But that’s ok.Trey Header

I’ll get to that soon.


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