Friday, February 24, 2012


This is my second piece from 30POV, under the theme of "the Seven Deadly Sins". I was pretty proud of this one at the time. I tried to work in a ton of gags, offensive jokes, stories, etc, and I felt like I really kicked some ass on it. I was so impressed with myself that I sent it to everyone I knew, even printed out some copies and brought them to work to get some friends to read it. I gave it to one of my best friends in the world, my buddy Matt. After an extended toilet reading, he walked and went "Eh." I said "Eh? Really? Why Eh?" I was crushed. His reply, "You say shit like this all day long. Is it supposed to be funnier because it's written down?"


{Spoiler Alert} This post leaves nothing to the imagination; not for the faint of heart…

….Please direct your attention to the center ring, to the overweight, bald man standing sheepishly with his hands in his pockets…There you will see the one and only INCAPABLE WRECKED-UMM, here to shock and amaze you with his uncanny ability to do shit that no one cares about YET AGAIN!!!! Yes, tonight, this inept, useless asshole will attempt that which no one else has professed to attempt or accomplish before (that he is aware of)….He will commit all 7 of the the SEVEN DEADLY SINS right here before your eyes, tonight, while you watch/read/gasp/retch, and he will do so using NOTHING but the INTERNET!!!!!!

(….And, probably his checking account, a comfortable chair, his piss poor attitude, and at some point, some Johnson’s Baby Oil…)

…This was the best I could come up with. Honestly, of all the random Christian shit that crosses my path, I cannot even remember the last time the 7DS were even referenced. I could only remember the good ones off the top of my head…Lust, Gluttony, Greed….And that was probably only because they were characters on Fullmetal Alchemist (danger, your nerd is showing).
I guess I’ll have to look them up in the Bible. I’m sure I have one somewhere…I mean, hell, I went to 10 years of Catholic School, at 4 different institutions, 4 years of which were at a big fancy ol’ college Prep school, so yeah, there HAS to be one somewhere in the house…

…Aaaand nope. Not a single one anywhere. I can’t imagine what I would have done with them, I know my family had a ton of them. For Christ’s sakes, they were giving them away like dead Jesus crackers when I was a kid. I think you got one with every fucking sacrament or each time you baptized a kid or something. I have some recollection of our couch losing a leg when I was in first or second grade, and we just had all the kids baptized again to get enough Bibles to prop it back up on the one side. It was a little high, though, we ended up having to balance it out with some Bible cliff notes, I think it was the “King Jim” version of the Bible, the slightly skinnier one that Catholics don’t use.
Well, there are no bibles in the house. I guess I’ll take a look on line…But, I waited way too long to get this written, so it would take a miracle to get here in time, and God knows the extent of Christian themed Spam that would hit my email account if I did buy it from an internet bookstore. I can see it now…”Jesus can make your penis bigger! On the third day it will rise stronger and harder!” “Refinance with Zacchias and lower your mortgage interest rates!!” “See Mary Magdalene sodomize Gommorah with a strap-on!”

Time to go shopping. I try to avoid real bookstores as a rule, there are just way too many books and the people that work there tend to be unattractive and bookishly nerdy. For what books are costing nowadays, bookstores should really look into hiring some topless dancers to man the registers or something. Not to mention, seeing the Children’s book section always makes my skin crawl. I can’t believe they are pushing this reading shit on kids.

Target didn’t have any Bibles, not even in the Magazine section. I didn’t see any at my local Wal-Mart, which was really a kick in the apostles considering how high and mighty Wally-world tries to come off at times. I remember there being a Catholic store in this old strip mall up the street. They always seemed to be going out of business though, there was constantly some sort of sale banner or sign up in the front window.

Well, I was right, there was a Catholic Shop about a quarter mile away, and it was having a big “going to hell” 50% off sale. Regardless, I was sure they would have a Bible. I am also assuming a Bible will be cheap, like a pocket paperback or something. I am cruising on little income this week, like vow of poverty little, so I need me the cheapest Crack Ho of a Bible I can find.
I am amazed at the wide range of items one can find at a religious themed store. I kind of thought that God merchandise would fizzle out somewhere between bumper stickers and ornate statuary. I guess there is a market for stuff like T-Shirts, dishes, high end artwork, etc. I personally think a line of Christian themed lingerie would be a big hit…Think of the killing someone could make marketing Virgin Mary crotchless panties, or maybe some men’s boxers with an image of the Acension on the crotch….Get it?

This store was no different…It was a small strip-mall location, but it was crammed with tons of random Christian stuff. There were walls full of books, several racks of T-shirts, a Poster display full of artwork and wall-sized prayers, a full sized stone replica of the Ten commandments, lots of statues of all sizes, the biggest being a Sacred Heart of Jesus statue that HAD to be 5 feet tall, they even had Jesus Christ action figures…And a very stern looking older woman jockeying the register. And a hell of a looker, too. She seemed short even while seated, had a mop of curly grey hair, and must have been over 60. She reminded me of every nun I ever had as a teacher growing up, all clenched fists and firm stares, like she’d just as soon bite your ass than Bless it. She glared at me as I wandered into the store, her eyes all frowny and wrinkly. When I made eye contact, her mouth contorted into this unnerving, uncomfortable smile, like she was fighting it with every muscle in her face. The eyes never changed.

“Good day, sir, is there something you need here?”  Her voice reminded me of this screaming cat IM noise I use to piss people off when I’m on AIM.

“Well, I’m kind of looking for a Bible, but all I reall-” …

She cuts me off, “Well, sir, we have several, but a man your age should have his own Bible, didn’t your parents give you one as a child?”  Hrumph…presumptuous bitch.

“…Yeah, but we threw that couch away years ago…”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing, nothing….look, all I really need is the Sev-” Cut off again.

“You’ll find our Holy Books over on that wall, sir.” and she turned away to whatever the hell she was doing before I interrupted her obviously full life.

I had to blow like 10 years of dust off these bookshelves, I am starting to doubt this place gets many customers. I find a plain, basic looking Bible and go to check the Table of Contents for the Seven Deadly Sins, but it was shrink wrapped, like you’d find around meat or something….Do bibles get that “not so fresh” feeling? I couldn’t open it. All the books seemed to be sealed this way.

“Ma’am, I can’t look at this bible, it is shrinkwrapp-”

Cut off again and she didn’t even look up this time. “Yes sir, the books are all covered. We had a problem with children coming in and reading many of the holy books without buying them, so the owner had them heat sealed. This is a store, after all, not a library.”

“Really? Are you serious?”

“Pardon me?”

“You had a “problem” with Kids….coming in here…and reading  the books?”

“Yes, some days they would be in here all day causing a fuss, we had to call a truancy officer on them, but they were Amish children from Lancaster and really didn’t fall under his authority, so we had to seal all the Holy Books.”

The idea of Amish kids playing hooky and loitering in a Catholic Bookstore was totally tripping my 

“There’s comedy to be had heres” radar.

“Are you fucking with me?”

“What? But, No! I’m not!” she almost yelped, with a look that if I were giving it would have been followed by the words “You fucking idiot..” “….and if you insist on using such…language, I’ll ask you to leave here!”

“OK, I’m totally sorry on the Lord’s F-bomb there, but all I really need to know is what the Seven Deadly Sins are…”

“That information can be found in one of the books in the section you’re standing in front of, Sir.” Now each time she said “Sir” it was like she was hammering a nail into my hand or something.

“Yeah, but even at 50% off these books are more expensive than I expected, is there some kind of condensed version som-”

Hey, guess what? Cut off again, “The holy books are not part of the 50% off sale, sir. They are full price, but are priceless in Our Lord’s wisdom.”

“Well, do YOU know what the seven deadly Sins are?”

“Of course I do, I am a good Christian woman, and won’t have my faith questioned-”
This time I got to cut her off. “I know Greed, Gluttony, Lust, I just need the other 3…I mean 4…”

“If I tell you, you won’t need to buy the book, now will you, SIR!?” Another nail in my hand… “And it seems to me that you could use it…”

“Oh Jesus Ass-Fucking Christ lady, will you-”

She cut me off with a stammering ROAR this time “I will NOT have you…cheapen our Lord’s name with your….Blasphemous…taking of his name in vain…in this house of God…” I guess I got to her, she was just repeating herself now.

“This isn’t a house of God, it’s a Goddamn STORE of God, and I’M not cheapening him, YOU ARE!!!” I gestured towards the giant Lawn Jesus towards the front of the store. “You’re selling him for fifty fucking percent off!!! Check out Dollar Jesus, the discount Savior!!! Forgiving sins on the cheap this week only!!! For fuck’s sake, can’t you JUST tell me the Sev-”

This last time I was cut off with a coughing, sputtering threat to call the Police if I didn’t leave, so I thought it best I do so. I’m not on the best terms with the local cops as it is, no need to make it worse. 

On my way out the door, I saw their stack of “end abortion now” bumper stickers and screamed back “You wanna end abortion!? This whole store’s a fucking abortion! You should end the store cause it’s an abortion and you wanna end abortion so shut down the store….”

OK, I made that very last part up. It was one of those things I thought of on the car ride home, and WISHED I had said it. Only more eloquently thanI just typed it. You know what else I thought of on the way home? I have that damn Brad Pitt and Morgan Freeman movie, Seven, from the late 90′s tucked away in my DVD rack at home, where Kevin Spacey is the serial killer obsessed with the Seven Deadly Sins…

…And guess fucking what!? The 7DS are listed right on the back of the DVD. Didn’t even have to watch the fucking movie again. Big waste of time all this shit was. I hope I didn’t give that crazy old bitch a heart attack.

Now down to the real point of this post. I’m going to attempt to commit all Seven Deadly Sins in one sitting, right here in front of my computer, using the internet. Gluttony, Sloth, Wrath, Envy, Greed, Lust, and Pride. Huh.

How the fuck to do this….

OK, Gluttony is easy. I have 2 big ass DiGiorno pizzas cooking in the oven, be ready any minute. I also have 3 six packs of my favorite beer in a cooler next to me. I can normally eat and drink about a quarter of that in a normal sitting before puking. I will eat it all while I am typing here. That seems pretty fucking gluttonous. I…guess you’re just gonna have to believe me on this one.
Sloth….Well, I’m not getting up and doing anything for a while. I’m just gonna sit in this comfy chair, and eat, get drunk, and type. I’m gonna call that one done too (this is super fucking anti-climactic here…).

Wrath…OK, so an old friend of mine, who found me using Myspace, invited me to his wedding this past summer. Over the course of our renewed online friendship, both he and his super bitchy bride-to-be became my friends on Myspace. It was cool chatting with him once in a while, but his fiance was one of those self-important bitches that feels the need to send bulletins to EVERYONE several times a day, just to update her mood or some bullshit. It was annoying.

When the day of his wedding came, I ended up blowing it off. Money was tight, and I just plain didn’t have the patience to reconnect with him and his family, not to mention enduring the annoyance of his older brothers inevitably digging up every old alliteration they had for my last name that I hadn’t heard since the third grade. So, like a dick, I bailed.

A week or so later I got a nasty message from his now wife, that came in the form of a bulletin to all her friends that whined about “some people didn’t have the decency to even call us to tell us they wouldn’t be sharing my special day blah blah bitch cunt shrew whore bitch…” Yeah, it didn’t name names, but it was about me.

So now she can feel my wrath…As I delete her from my friends file. Sure, she isn’t dead, or even hurt, and she might not even notice it right away because, really, who the fuck still uses Myspace? But yeah, fuck that bitch. You’re dead to me, can-opener.

Envy…I head for my rarely used Instant Pesterer to see who’s online for chatting. I see a work buddy of mine, Dan. Dan’s is one of those types that is always happy, never a bad thing to say, and nothing bad ever seems to happen to him. Nice looking wife, a couple kids that don’t seem too obnoxious, a decent house, and he likes what he does for a living. I know I can envy him in some way, I just have to find it.
WreckedUmm- sup dude?!?
DanDaddy1969- Hey man
WreckedUmm- hows things? what r u up 2?
DanDaddy1969- I was about to have a snack. I just got back from a funeral.
WreckedUmm- Snax r cul sry bro who dieded?
DanDaddy1969- My mother passed away. It was really sudden, my whole family is in shock
WreckedUmm- no way! that blows bro hows yer hot wifey doin?
DanDaddy1969- Well, that isn’t great. I got served with papers the other day, she wants a divorce.
WreckedUmm- HA u got served!
WreckedUmm-oh shit bro sry that isnt good at all
DanDaddy1969- I kind of saw it coming. I think she’s been screwing my neighbor’s son that just got out of college
DanDaddy1969- I caught him naked in my garage and I never believed his bullshit “i thought this was my garage” story. his house doesn’t even have a garage.
WreckedUmm- LMAO nekkid in yer garage man i’d fuck yer wife too 2 b honest
DanDaddy1969- That bitch even took the kids when she left. it was really hard to see them all at the funeral today my daughter was holding that fucking 22 YO kid’s hand.
WreckedUmm- dude maybe we should go out drinkin to get yer mind off shit
DanDaddy1969- I can’t, my dr is telling me I have this liver problem, I can’t drink or take painkillers for a while until he does more tests
WreckedUmm- Oh boy
DanDaddy1969- Yeah, things aren’t going too well
WreckedUmm- didnt u say you were snackin?
DanDaddy1969- yeah
WreckedUmm- mmmm whatchoo eatin?
DanDaddy1969- I haven’t been to the store because my wife had my account frozen but I have an old dented can of stale pringles I was going to eat
WreckedUmm- oh yeah man pringless rock that is cool
WeckedUmm- dude i totally envy you gettin to eat those pringles
DanDaddy1969- huh? WTF?
WreckedUmm- GTG TTYL KHA
DanDaddy1969- Uhhh, bye.
OK, Envy’s done.

Greed…Fuck it….Umm, I just….went to ebay and bought ALL of the…Uhh…”Planet of the HooJibs” action figures….all of them. Because I’m a greedy motherfucker and I want them all. Don’t bother looking for them, they aren’t there. Fuck, this is turning out to be a shitty idea.
OK, Lust and Pride. Goddammit, how the fuck do I do Pride? I am lost on that one. But for Lust….I think we know where this is going. Ba-chicka-wa-waaaaa!!!!!

Lust…Much like Alcohol, Internet Pornography really is the answer to all life’s problems. I have never had an issue that couldn’t be solved by watching a chick do another chick.
Unfortunately, internet pornography is also wrought with danger, again, much like alcohol. People may make light of addiction to internet pornography, but it is a very real and damaging problem. Just the sheer volume and selection of porn to be found online can dampen a man’s resolve and desensitize him to normal sex as a whole. I’m not kidding here, there are more David Duchovnys coming…Errr….And by that, I mean  that there are more people LIKE David Duchovny who will eventually need to admit their addiction to internet pornography and seek help. I’ll admit it, I have felt the urges..I have watched some of the most vile, filthy, tittilating, incredibly arousing and erection-inducing things I could find on the internet, and it has affected me, sometimes even negatively. Some days, I can’t walk by a Lane Bryant without wondering what the chubby girl behind the register might look like getting gangbanged in a public bathroom by 4 black guys and a horse while a Brazilian Lesbian midget in a racoon costume pees on her…It has changed me. It is THAT pervasive. Thank God Fox Mulder has the courage to speak up and lead us.

But enough of my soapboxing, it’s time for some lotion-bottling…Because I can’t see a better way to commit this Lusty sin without a little baby oil and some alone time on the web…..Where should I go? Hmmm, NerdprOn? Am I feeling a little….A little Barnyard sex-ay today? There are always the Russian chat sites…Oh yeah, that will work.

A lite slap and tickle on my salty pink Irish nuts should get this show on the road…And just my luck, it seems that every teenage girl in even the most impoverished former Soviet Bloc nation has three things…A webcam, internet access, and a surprising elasticity in her nanny-hoo-hoo. Ooooo, yeah, you’re a bad girl, what are you gonna do with that oiled up bananna squash? What? you need my credit card number before you can show me? Well, let me go get my wallet…Cue the sexy music and fade to black….

4 hours later

ZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz….snort…..huzzah? Huh?…..Oh, sorry, I guess I dozed off for an hour or so after that little session….Whew….hey, did I finish? All that Pizza and beer made me sleepy…Let’s see, frozen chat screen, t-shirt stuck to my belly, one sock missing….Yup, looks like I finished…I remember it now. Godammit, that was good. No, no……I am good. Seriously, I really know what I am doing down there. No one has ever been better, not my wife, none of my ex girlfriends, not the creepy guy dressed as a clown at that one kid’s birthday party when I was six…NOBODY does it better. I got the tight grip, the right stroke, PERFECT technique, just enough forearm strength, and an enviable sense of rythym and timing. I doubt anyone in the world is as good at Masturbation as I am. I should be a fucking gold medalist Off-Jerker. A MASTER-Masturbator. The sultan of sweet self-Love-makin’. A motherfucking GENERAL in the army of Tug. Hell yeah, I’m just that good.

Hey, there’s my Pride.

Monday, February 20, 2012

Bah, mischief-pisschief…Anger, Retribution, Karma, and the Incapable Wrecked-Um.

 Beginning my transfer of pieces from 30POV before it disappears completely.

This was the first thing I wrote for that site, and possibly the first thing I had written in 10 years. I was having issues at my job with several people, and in the case of one particular douchebag, I felt the need to retaliate. 

 I REALLY HATE my fucking job.

OK, so…This is my first time “blogging”, or for that matter, writing this pseudo-publicly, on a site that people I don’t know may actually read….And I have been sitting here trying to figure out just how the fuck I am going to start this little story up. I even read a bunch of entries on the site to get some feel for just how this is done by “professionals”. My last writing course was many years ago, and I didn’t do very well, but my friends say I can write and that I’m “funny” so it has to be true, right?

(To be honest, my impression of blogging was that it allowed for self important, overly literate computer nerds to assert their opinions without reliving the beatings they probably got for opening their mouths when they were younger…At one point, I even considered starting a business that would hire out local High School Football teams to confront and beat down obnoxious bloggers/forum trolls/internet nerds with entitlement issues blah blah blah…)

I need a strong opener…Nothing too fancy, not over-reaching, not being more than I am…something simple, that I believe that others can relate to, that relates to my story and the topic.

OK. I REALLY HATE my fucking job.

I work at a factory as a machinist, running automated grinding machines that make bolts for aircraft. So, if you’ve been on a plane and had a wing fall off due to a “catastrophic fastener failure”…it wasn’t me.

I work third shift, 11pm to 7 am, a shitty schedule that I still have not gotten used to after over 3 years. Just about everyone I work with is a flaming fucking asshole. Racist Bikers, drug addict ex-cons, blue collar white trash, gangsta’ wannabe douchebags, drunks…Apparently factory work attracts the bottom of the socially challenged barrel.

One pain in my ass is a kid in his mid 20′s that runs my machine on the shift before mine. He’s an illiterate slob with little to no mechanical or people skills, a pill popper and a drunk, and just a plain shitty machine operator, always messing up jobs, breaking the machines, and leaving a mess for me to come in and deal with. Add to that, he’s a cocky motherfucker that thinks he runs the plant, and I’ve got a special vein in my forehead that throbs whenever he opens his mouth.

Luckily, he doesn’t talk to me often…I’ve developed a habit of getting to work 2 minutes late every day so I avoid the kid. So, he writes notes, and leaves them on my toolbox…

(…Just a quick aside here, the company issues all employees large rolling toolboxes, about 3 feet high, 18″ wide, 24″ deep, with 2-4 large drawers,  full of tools like wrenches, vice grips, micrometers, and other things we need to do our jobs properly. Think of it like a cubicle to those of you trapped in an office space…My personal “area” to keep my personal shit.)

…Barely legible, incorrectly spelled, horribly written notes. For a while, I kept a scrapbook to show them off. You’ve seen the signs on the highway, around construction sites, that say “MY MOMMY WORKZ HERE PLEESE SLOW DOWN” written by some half mongoloid ADD kid, with the backwards ‘e’s and shit spelled wrong?…He could have a lucrative career writing those.

The incidents and stories I could share about this kid are endless…He’s broken into my toolbox and taken things out (which I proved by breaking into HIS toolbox and getting them back), left our machine broken and denied it, sabotaged or screwed up jobs so I would have to fix them, he’s a fucking terror. But, in a factory as large as ours, unless someone causes violence, sexually harasses or makes direct death threats, management basically tells you to get over it and be happy you have a job.
I should also add, I am a firm believer in karma, and I felt certain that this fool would eventually get what he deserved. It’s just…the WAITING that kills me…

One day, I was so tired of this kid’s crap, I was ready to explode. I had complained, I had confronted him, I had tried to do everything within the company policy to handle this situation, and nothing was being done. He just writes another cocky note, breaks something and ruins my fucking day all over again.

So I pissed all over his toolbox.

Yes, you read that. I pissed all over his toolbox. On top, in all the drawers, all over the picture of his blonde girlfriend that he had hanging on the side of his toolbox, all over the magnetic Philadelphia Phillies calendar with special dates highlighted that he had tickets too, all over the lock that I had broken into,  all over his oil rags, all over his tools, especially the handles of his tools, all over the stash of spare change he used to buy snacks (ever seen a bunch of quarters immersed in a puddle of pee? It looked kind of cool…) and made sure to leave a few drips in his coffee cup.

This isn’t a “gee I’d love to” or a “wouldn’t it be funny but I’d never do it…” Nope. I did it. Totally premeditated, malevolent urination.

I am sure you’re wondering how….Right? I mean, I couldn’t just drop my pants, prop my nuts on his toolbox and piss away, could I? No, there was some thought, and a little stealth.
I bought a 20oz bottle of lemonade from one of the vending machines, drank it, went into the bathroom, and filled it back up. No one will question a bottle of lemonade, right? (note to reader-Urine and Lemonade look a LOT different than most people realize). I took it out to his toolbox, and went to town, dumping it all over the place, a cheery golden shower of vengeance. The only issue came when I realized that I left a strikingly-yellow-under-the-fluorescent-lights puddle on top of the box, but used some of his oil rags to soak that up. The outside of his toolbox was all glistening and wet, so I had to snag a floor fan to blow on it and dry it out, lest someone walk by and say “Is there a leak somewhere? That toolbox is all wet, and glistening, and yellow….”

And FUCK ME it felt good. I had my personal little revenge, his toolbox would start to stink in the oppressive shop heat, he’d be handling everything I pissed on by the next shift, and I have a fun “don’t fuck with me or I’ll piss on you” story to pull out at parties. Everyone wins. Well, I win. A small victory. And lots of giggles every time I see him open his toolbox.

Then, as I drove home, my truck sputtered and died as I pulled up in front of my house. No previous warning. My fuel pump went. $650 to have it fixed. Fucking Karma.

                                                 Epilogue 2/20/2012

 This whole thing went basically unnoticed at my job. Either the urine evaporated in the heat, or the kid just assumed it was a roof leak (the plant had many of those) and moved on. Angry that my pee-venge did nothing, I went one "better" (read: worse). 

Our company issued a medicated hand lotion to all employees that wanted it. There were some pretty nasty chemicals being used on a daily basis and a lot of people would get dry, cracked skin. This kid was one of them. He used the lotion every day at the end of his shift. Expanding on my theme, I pissed in his tube of hand cream. It wasn't easy, I pissed all over myself while doing it. The hole was small, and my aim isn't great. I shook it up, and it all blended together surprisingly well. He went through the tube pretty quickly, so I at least got the enjoyment of watching him rub it on his hands at the end of each shift.

I told several people at the job that I did this. It disgusts most of them, but they all agreed that the guy was a seething, shit-fucking asshole. I just lowered myself to his level. Regardless, nobody ratted me out. So far, the story hasn't spread, and it has been two and a half years. I'm no longer working there (or at all, for that matter) and I don't plan to return, so part of me really wants the story to get out, but since I'm still looking for another job, it's probably better it doesn't. 

Except on my blog no one reads, and the Facebook links that my friends will all ignore.

Friday, February 17, 2012

Goodbye, 30POV?

From what my editor says, the site I work for, 30POV, is done for good. I'm not too happy about it, but this was my first experience as a "writer", "blogger", "printed asshole", etc, so I don't know how these things roll. Maybe 2-3 years is the normal lifespan for the average blog site? A lot of us regulars seemed to either be flaking, busy, or burning out, myself included. Regardless, I am happy with the work I did there, and my plan right now is to transfer the pieces over to this blog. Even if I get zero hits here, they will at least still be somewhere. In my own amateurishness, I didn't keep copies of any of my work on my computer anywhere. So if that site disappeared tomorrow, I'd be out all my work. Live and learn.

Oh, and I am still unemployed. I could expand on that a lot, and I will, at some point. But until then, I am still collecting unemployment and making ends meet selling everything I own on eBay.