Escape the Okie Zone

Flax seed, more vegetables and avoid chicken fried steak and Oklahoma beer!

I've had all sorts of bad luck and so I think what is the point of getting out of bed when the day would have been better, if I never left the house, and just deal with the depressing paralysis of couch potatoism feeling guilty about not getting anything done. I wake up to an angry phone call from Muffy yelling at me about not having my cell phone with me all day. She apparently gets mad everytime I forget it. Maybe she forgets about my own ADD, but she said that she worries when I don't because of all the card carrying NRA male and especially females who would feel justified in killing me with their weapons of mortal destruction. She is upset that I hang out in bars with angry testorone and steroid, Stepford Repuks and rednecks filling the bar regurgitating Rush or Fox propagandized one liners. I go to clubs and still get haunted by their taunts of how we have to bow down and kiss Bush's ADD dumb ass! Would it have been nice if George actually got stuck in jail after his DUI in the northeast (where he's from) after partying with John Newcomb (former Australian Wimbledon champ). It would have been funny to hear about him being humbled after being some bloke's bitch.

"How dare you be disrespectful belittle our sacred president with his Holy Mandate!, the angry female redneck screams at Garvald!"

So I was waking up with the post traumatic stress of realizing another 4 years of getting closer to the 4th reich! HEIL GEORG (German way to say the name. I was getting very down and wondered whether to veg on the matress and watch TV. I should be happy about at least staying out of jail and then get paranoid that I'm heading for a downward spiral. It is so easy for me to be overwhelmed and then I think just one step at a time after a little Addaboy and I'm better focused, not so overwhelmed and my favorite mocha coffee with the hot chocholate adds to curing this hypoglycemic low accentuated by the bud. It's funny how herbs and drugs affect people with differing constitions and mental states differently. So then I get in my car and hear one of my favorite Beatle songs about "Good day sunshine" so I think that it's a good day after passing the 13th day of the month without more trauma making sure to visit a club less than 2 miles from my house paranoid about getting stopped with any stuff again. Shit like that happens in pairs or in triplets with my luck of Murphy's law. I avoided any arguments last night with the cowboy security head of Mike's. Fred has read bits of my site and likes the style but not the content, so we can always have intelligent conversations about politics without fear of getting barred. He thought that it was ridiculous to be kicked out because of the topic and that this is a free country and one should be able talk about it unless one gets personal and violent like the angry rednecks at other pubs.
I had a fun evening feeling the positive vibes of Patch, Mark, Emily and Susanne just dancing and nothing more than harmless flirtations. Mike's has a younger clientele so they have not been so indoctrinated by this red state of intellectual drainage yet but will soon be brainwashed by the corporate slave owners and fundamentalist preachers shoving their "gospel according to St. George, the savior and hero of Jesusland" down the throats of innocent young sheep (Like the children of the corn from Chickasha who protested the 2 pages of the science textbook disagreeing with their scary dogmatic beliefs)



about all the negativity and then think what worse could happen so I bump a car in the library parking lot. I know it's my own fault so the elderly oriental lady is all panicking with the worried look of never being used to the country talking in a thick accent. I tried my best to alleve her worries because I still haven't gotten around to get my insurance certificate. Then