Monday, March 19, 2012

gas, grass or ass

GAS, GRASS OR ASS
Nowadays if a tricked out windowless van pulls up into a parking space, you automatically think “child abductor”.  But back in the day you could drive around in one of those, the sides painted like one of those cool Boris Vellejo fantasy Amazon ass kickers ( you know the kind- big busted, lean bodied bikini clad gal swinging a sword at a dragon or some such, the wet dream of every skinny acne prone high school nerd who would learn programming code, sell a software company and make enough money to start dating one of those real life imitates art thanks to plastic surgery females ) and everyone thought you were the cat’s meow.  You were footloose and fancy free.  I almost went in that direction ( but of course in my normal frugal manner ) going so far as to buy a VW microbus and build a bed platform in the back.  I didn’t have any definite money creation plans but had vaguely thought on joining the National Guard for gas money.  Then of course, Baby Jesus stepped in and saved my bacon from getting cancer of the ass from the anthrax vaccine or getting lung cancer from depleted uranium inhalation over in Desert Storm I.  I met Lucifer’s Handmaiden, she pretended to get nauseous from The Pill so she went on the rhythm method “for natural birth control”.  Little did I understand that she was trying to get pregnant.  Not that she should have tried so hard.  She was one of those gals who gets pregnant just thinking about it ( our second was conceived using the withdrawal method while she was lactating ).  Not that I ever really minded, my daughter being the apple of my eye, just that it took my life in another direction. 
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And of course, once again, Baby Jesus proving he loved me.  Oh, you can invoke Norse legend and go with the Three Spinners of the Underworld weaving their threads of fate.  Or you can talk about synchronicity.  I like to think a benevolent deity who loves me watches out over me, protecting my perfect hair from harm ( getting all cocky, thinking next winter I’ll be snugly cocooned in my underground lair, I’ve decided to go back to my more time intensive hair cutting method and go from a skinhead look back to a high and tight perfection [ when it’s cold as Hades you don’t want to stand there shirtless fashioning your head ] ).   Everything in life I’ve endured has led to better things.  As my minions point out every time I bitch about wife #2, she forced you to learn to live in frugal splender.  But back to point, I’m glad I never went with the casual income road bound vagabond.  I’d have met the Peak Oil world with all the wrong assets.  You remember Mohave Rat?  He got ribbed a bit for buying a house, but you have to admit staying in an RV with the oil drying up was probably a worse choice ( his strategy is still sound- Uncle Obammy pays the mortgage and he still retains the RV as an emergency fall back.  You can’t tell me most of us have better preps ).  Every time I get tired of the winters here, I just remind myself how silly it would be to take the Hippy Bread Van out of storage and hit the road.  Even with 15 mpg, V6, I would face random TSA roadblocks ( Ver are your traveling papers, citizen? ) and being stuck in the wrong place with minimal supplies.
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The one thing I liked even more than the van living concept was the bumper sticker the vans sported.  “Gas, grass or ass, nobody rides for free”.  This is classic stuff and far better than “there ain’t no such thing as a free lunch”.  Most people have experience with free lunches.  At the school cafeteria.  Why do you think they are provided?  For better nutrition?  Don’t make me vomit blood!  It is to indoctrinate ( schools are for indoctrination, not teaching ) the little citizens into the welfare state.  Look, ma, free lunch!  You can’t explain to them about taxes taking away more of your parents purchasing power, they only know they are getting free food.  Now, most people can relate to the concept that operating a motor vehicle costs X amount of money per mile.  Sure, the hippies of yesteryear probably hated the whole concept.  They were the original welfare class after retirees.  It was uncool you were exploiting them.  After all, you were headed that way anyway, one more passenger wouldn’t matter.  But the bumper sticker was a nice civilized warning to them to stow that attitude and cough up some payment.  Nothing is free in life, you are helpfully reminding them, so pull your head out of the clouds.  You were liberating them from their delusions. 
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I would like to suggest that we all work at reintroducing this bumper sticker ( buying through my Amazon links of course, you silly twat ).  Let’s stop using the Heinlein Free Lunch and go back to a much clearer, more understandable form of communication.  I used to have a coworker who was funny as hell.  If you ever asked him a personal question, or asked him a favor, he would look at you like you were nuts and say with a perfectly straight face, “Are We Humping?”.  In other words, he wasn’t getting sex from you, so piss off, he owed you nothing including sharing private information.  That is a bit crude for those of us far more refined and dignified.  Far better you ask, “Which is it?  Gas, grass or ass?” You don’t get something for nothing. 
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4 comments:

  1. Interesting link on RV or vehicle dwelling:

    http://www.cheaprvliving.com/Steves_Van_Conversion.html

    Also, as profiled on survivalist.com, simple solar homesteading:

    http://www.simplesolarhomesteading.com/

    He built a nice little cabin for $2K, and for an additional $3K, set up a good solar system. Explains how he was able to pick up large plots of land for under $1K.

    He has a very similar philosophy to Jim; check it out.

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  2. thank you for your kind remarks James. You feeling alright?
    the mohave rat

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  3. It's been a while since I've heard gas, grass, or ass. You must be over the hill like me!

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  4. You do understand that depleted uranium is "depleted"? Most granite has more radiation then depleted uranium.

    ReplyDelete