Lame...

To anyone who is not affiliated with the bubble of dramatic insanity that has always surrounded the town of Woodland, California, you can assure that what i am about to say does not pertain to you. You are more than welcome to read on, but this in no way has anything to do with you. Are all of you that are not tied to this subject looking away? Ok, good. Let's move on.

Now, for a number of years (we will say that it's a number that is more than twenty and less than thirty) I was acquainted with a person (let's call him Wiley), and for a large portion of that time, (let's say nearly all) I considered him to be one of my best friends. We went through the mill together. We've shared blood, sweat, and on a couple of occasions, tears. He was one of the few who has actually known me.

If you haven't fucking clued into the fact that I am talking in the past tense, you're a fucking idiot and you need to quit reading this. You're not worth my words or my time. Move the fuck on.

One of the greatest people that I have ever had the pleasure of calling "friend" passed away a couple of days ago. Thinking on the fact that I just called him "friend" irks me a little. He was my blood-brother. Now, realize that this wasn't in the sharing mother-father, genetically-tied-kind-of-way. No, this was the retarded early adolescent swapping miniscule amounts of blood kind of way. So, not only have I lost a person who had occupied a large amount of my life, but a few of my blood cells may have left with him.

Let's get to the point of this post: he was an awesome human being, but he was not someone to deify. I am, by no means saying this as any form of slander. i have no ill thoughts on this man, but if I hear anyone turn him into a fucking saint, so-help-me-fucking-god I will send someone to hit you in the face with a fucking shovel. I am not kidding. And, for you stupid cunt bitches who think that it's okay to throw his business all over fucking Facebook, you'll fucking get yours. I fucking promise you. His father even asked me how everyone one knows, already, it's like people are coming out of the woodwork. I have had other people who were actually close to him find out about his death by your fucking Facebook posts.

I hope that, when you die, your fucking obituaries are fucking splattered all over the internet and stapled to every light post in town, just so that the people who actually care about you can find out in the fucked up fashion that you are creating. You people are fucking dead to me, too.

To the people who actually fucking matter in all of this, I am sorry that I am (in a time like this) ranting and raving. I really am sorry. The sad part is, except for about a half hour window, all I've been able to be is angry. It is what it is, and I can't change that. I'd kick around the Blame-Hackey-Sac, but that would get us nowhere.

It just amazes me that people who knew nothing (or very little) of this man all of a sudden crawl out of the rocks (that they've hidden under) and are suddenly grief-stricken.

Honestly, if you knew anything about him, you'd know that he'd want you to fuck yourself. In case you've forgotten, he was an asshole (remember the part about me being against deifying him?). All of you fake lames who were stragglers and would hang out every once in a while, suck my fucking dick and eat my fucking fromunda cheese.

For those who actually matter, he would want you to take any piece of shit vehicle that might make it out to "The Trees," "The T," "Tractor Hill," "27D and 505," or anywhere, really, and drink whatever you brought. He wouldn't want a service, or a huge gathering. Hell, we all hated when people brought everybody and their fucking mom with them. Don't forget the stolen pallets from Raley's and the numerous quarts and pints of flammable, petroleum products. Douse the pallets with the flammable liquids and set them (and yourself) on fire. If there are reptiles about, have Flaming lizard races. If you can figure out where Ryan Cox has been hiding for the last 10 years, have him do the Fire Crotch dance.