Gonzo Marketing:Winning Through Worst Practices The Bombast Transcripts: Rants and Screeds of RageBoy
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Tuesday, September 23, 2003
Immerse Yourself
I had just pulled up to the PDQ, the 24-hour convenience store where I buy milk because it's cheaper there, go figure, and here's this middle-aged-but-I-don't-really-look-it-do-I Boulder woman walking into the store as the final bars of Evanescence wane on my in-car juke box. Baby now you everbody's fool. "Without the mask / where will you hide / can't find yourself / lost in your lie..." You been readin this rag for any time now, you know where the link would go.

But this one, the one walking into the store, I can see has O-m-m-m-m-m printed across her tits, which I guess is to give sensitive New Age guys an excuse to look at them, as otherwise they'd be too bashful, which around here is what passes for respect. Not that her tits aren't notable in themselves, like I give a shit.

However, not being bashful myself, but more the curious type, I ask, "So does it say O-m-m-m-m-m-m on your t-shirt because you think it's cool..." -- and here she's face upturned and smiling that I fell for it -- "or because you think it's bullshit?" O-m-m-m-m-m

"Oh no," she says with a tentative laugh, "because I'm into it!"

"Yeah?" I say. "Me, I think it's bullshit."

"Well," she says, I can feel the one-liner coming, "it doesn't hurt anyone."

Why hello dere Tar Baby! Beau'ful mornin', ain' it? I can't resist. "Yeah it does" I say. "That's where you're wrong."

Exeunt smile and laugh. Enter that clamped-down anal-retentive look reserved in these parts for The Infidel. Well! He must not be from Boulder, she's thinking.

No, baby, I am, I am. That's how I know precisely what you're thinking. You're thinking I'm an angry, aggressive, judgmental sort of person. Aren't you? You stupid cunt.

I suppose it didn't help that I'd come direct from Barnes & Noble, where, on the way out, I'd seen An ABC of Enlightenment: A Spiritual Dictionary for the Here and Now by one Osho. Now me, I'd never heard of this pig fucker, but I was impressed that it said on the inside back flap that Tom Robbins considered him more dangerous than Jesus Christ.

Author's Note: Damn, I just looked this up on Google, and it seems that Tom and I have entirely different notions of how dangerous Jesus Christ is. Let's see... 666 divived by 6, times three, times 2 is... what?

So I stopped and flipped through the book, even though I was dying for an iced double espresso and a cigarette. If you wanna run cool, Dire Straits tells us, you gotta run on heavy heavy fuel. And I came to the entry for pain or suffering or some such, in which Osho informed me that this was unnecessary. Imagine my relief.

He said it's me that's causing my suffering. I had once thought this the most convincing argument for suicide, but I read on. My pain, it seems, stems from being deluded about the Nature of Reality. He didn't say that in the part I read, but he implied that he would know. He probably does though, one way or the other, seeing as he's been dead for 13 years now. But even if there is life after death. and even if he did therefore know for a minute, I bet he forgot pretty quick. Therefore, I'm not sure how much use this information will be to me, especially as I'm still wondering if there's life after birth.

Notwithstanding these intrusive ruminations, Osho went on to say that I am in pain because I've had expectations, which, if I let go of, I would feel a whole lot less hurty.

And it stopped me in my tracks. And I thought, my God, that's right! And it all suddenly made sense. And I got down right there on my knees and prayed that these deluded expectations be taken from me. I expected she wouldn't fuck me over. So of course she did. All part of the Kozmik Plan.

O-m-m-m-m-m-m backatcha babe.


"Brush lettering is immediate, unpredictable and fresh."
(well... unpredictable anyway)


just what we all need
more lies about a world that
never was and never will be



6:18 AM | link |



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"RageBoy: Giving being fucking nuts a good name since 1985."
~D. Weinberger
28 October 2004

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Chris Locke's photos More of Chris Locke's photos

Until a minute ago, I had no photos. I still have no photos to speak of. I don't even have a camera. But all these people were linking to "my photos." It was embarassing. It's still embarassing. But I'm used to that.


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