Bear 21- Section 7

BEAR 21... The Story of a Man and Her Umbrella

Section 1: The First 6 Days of Terror
Section 2: In One Day Your Whole Life Can Change
Section 3: Dangerous Love
Section 4: The Tragic Demise of Some Loser
Section 5: This Life Already Happened*
Section 6: Prophecy 14
Section 7: The Present That Already Happened Holds Enormous Implications for a Future That Might Not Exist
Section 8: The Yellow Pearl is Upon Us Now, We Must Fight Back

SECTION VII: The Present That Already Happened Holds Enormous Implications for a Future That Might Not Exist

A Future That Might Not Exist from Tony J. Neal on 8tracks Radio.

(6/25 2013) Day 18: Hello Kitty, You Stupid Mother Fucker

7 days remaining until the Great Flood.

Try and guess what was running late? Nope, not me… I did my part. It was that blasphemous Asheville bus again. This time the mother fucker made me four minutes late for work. Even my desperate attempts to speed up the process to eternal damnation were a complete failure.

The bus stopped for some woman; rather than immediately board the bus, this bitch stood at the door asking questions. I urgently yelled out for the bus driver to simply speed away from the bus stop and leave her standing there looking stupid. “Go! Just Go!” I kept hollering out from the back of the bus as if an emergency situation had unfolded, or as if she presented an imminent threat to the rest of the passengers.

Even when she finally boarded the bus, she stood at the front asking the driver questions, delaying the departure even further. Finally, I approached with sheer kindness in order to resolve the situation and said to her calmly: 

“Ma’am, the bus is already late enough. You really need to stop asking all these silly questions and just go sit your big ass down somewhere.”

I finally resolved the matter by deciding that the bus was frequently late because it was not meant to be that I board the mother fucker. My life was supposed to be marvelous, but instead I boarded a city funded vehicle that I nicknamed the hand basket because I presumed that it was headed straight to Hell. No person in their right mind would ever willingly board a transportation vessel that was only going to take that person to the plague of Black Death. The only person on Earth that stupid would be me.

My new ordinance: (as read by the village messenger in the middle of town's square to a gathering of all the people in the city.)

I hereby declare that the next time the bus is 15 minutes late, I am not going to board it. Rather than grow impatient as if it is imperative that I embark on a journey to certain death, I am walking away from that bus stop and disappearing forever.

(The messenger continued reading from the scroll.)

Or, maybe I shall finally figure out where it is that I am destined to go and that is where the bus will forever be on time. There will be no buses; instead I will await a hot air balloon that will soar to the world in which I've always belonged.

People cheered, clapped, swooned. A woman clutched her handkerchief and wiped away the tears. Everybody had been asking me when I was finally going to do this. (The definition of "everybody" = like two or three people (and this was a result of them having nobody else to talk to and had grown tired of listening to my bullshit.)) Well, I did it. And, I had visualized the perfect world that had connected the Earth with the most vital components of The Universe and restored balance and humanity.

Unfortunately, that world was nowhere near East Asheville and did not contain a Wal Mart or a Bowls Department Store or any of this other psychotic bullshit in which I was being carried off to as if I was useless, meaningless, and had committed atrocious crimes against all sectors of the galaxy. I was a threat to the world; my dreams meant nothing... they were deemed stupid bullshit because I was a loser who worked at Bowls Department Store... I had no credibility... Fuck, I barely even had enough change to board this mother fucking bus. 

I hated leaving downtown and felt the urge to pound on the windows as I was being carried off to the Bowls Department Store prison camp. It was increasingly worse whenever I ran into friends while waiting for the bus. Will was off today and planning something fun and enjoyable; I’d rather hang out with Will. In fact, I'd rather be gang raped on the E1 bus then have to go back to the Bowls Department Store torture chamber and listen to that wretched set of songs again.

Several of these fucking songs were written by assholes so desperate for companionship that they shamelessly displayed all the annoying traits of creepy clingy dependency and try to pass it off as romantic. One miserable cock sucker displayed the ultimate act of desperation by desiring that “if you’re going to be somebody’s heartbreak, be mine.” That stupid son-of-a-bitch obviously doesn't get out much and the mother fucker probably hadn't been laid since, at minimum, 2007. Fucking asshole this guy is.

Fuckface Andy Grammer, or whatever the fuck his God damn name is, finally had somebody show up at his house and claimed, “Its fine by me, if you never leave.” You desperate piece of shit! If she never leaves, then how the fuck are you going to pay the rent? Your fucking monkey ass is obviously too stupid to hold down a job. My guess is she was sitting there the entire time looking at her watch waiting for the right moment to dip the fuck out there, and this shithead prick kept overriding all of her excuses to prevent her from leaving.

And some other asshole… this dickface obviously lives in some remote cave in the middle of the desert. His ass simply stated, “I wanna kiss a girl.” He didn't even give any details, just a girl… any girl. This fuckhead probably has never even seen a girl. Then get your fucking ass up off your fat greasy hillbilly ass and go kiss one! Jesus! Fuck! What the fuck is wrong with these people?

This other fucking shitface! The song goes, “And you run, away, from me.” This guy is the biggest fucking pussy on the planet Earth. Of course she runs away from you, you sorry fucking shitstain on a fucking dead fish’s ass, she’s running because she can’t stand the sight of you or your miserable singing. Rather than confess to being a douche, you cry, you wine, you pout, you break down like a God damn sissy, and act like its’ her fault. Get a load of this shit: Mother fucker, I won’t run away from you—you pull that shit with me and I’ll cram a polka dotted umbrella up your ass and feed you to a bear.

Another frequently played song (definition of frequently played = several times every day) has a wimpy chorus that goes, "my heart's on fire. My heart's on fire." Then take a antacid you fucking pussy!

And this other fucking shit eating prick. The God damn song begins with "pretty girls come from the ugliest places" then proceeds to bitch, wine, and moan how he is not going to let a girl break his heart. Sounds to me like she already did! And at for what cost? Get this shit: Mother fucker traveled with her all the way to the coast, and all he got was one sole kiss. The major problem with this song is that it insults pretty girls. Good job Bowls Department Store corporate music selector! Way to insure that nobody decent will ever enter the store and we are forever doomed with fat obnoxious old people who are interested in your shitty unstylish outdated Crack & Barrel brand.

There's one song that's by a real genius. This song goes, "you can count of me like 1-2-3." Holy fucking shit! This asshole can count! Mother fucking can't sing, that's for God damn sure. Those lyrics are poor even for a kindergartner, which leads us to question whose fucking idea it was to record that song.

The person who determines these songs is obviously a creepy old guy and a definite pedophile. Most of the songs sound as if they are sung by 13 year girls who have yet to reach puberty— and may not extend beyond that level of maturity in terms of mental development. In "Keep Your Eyes Open" Taylor Swift sounds as if she is about 12, and sounds like a MILF compared to most of the others. The worst of this characteristic is exemplified by Regina Spektor who sounds like an annoying 6th Grader with the stupid ass line "And we weren't even bleeding." This is the kind of shit that makes little kids cry in the store; they feel as if they are being forced to be subjected to the Elementary School's horrendous Christmas play again.

Even old ass middle aged fucking Gwen Stafani sounds like a miserable winy fat 12 year old on Settle Down with the stupid ass lyrics, "don't get me started, I'm trying to get a hold on this." Winy! Winy! Winy! She obviously has extreme maturity issues; so much for her progressing from a dumb girl into an intelligent woman. Instead, she went from a young dumb girl to an old dumb girl. How much longer do we have to be forced to listen to shitty Gwen and No Doubt before the corporate executives finally realize that most people HATE THIS FUCKING SHIT! That's period. That's final. This is not up for debate.

I shouldn't have to listen to this shit… every God damn day! Who the fuck decided to play this shit? The new letter to Bowls Department Store corporate simply read:

Dear Music Selector at Bowls Department Store, 

You God damn, stupid, mother fucker, asshole, son-of-a-bitch, cock sucker, fucking piece of shit, garbage licking shit head asshole son-of-a-bitch cockface shit licking turd bitch asslicker fucking mother fucker shit son of a bitch cock roach eating—you go fucked your mom and your cousin and your Aunt Susan that piece of shit bloody tampon eating filthy scum fucking whore that she is—and you fucking look just like her because you’re a fucking goat fucking possum fucking skunk fucker from ass shit Hell mother fucking God damn son of a bitch filthy fucking prick licking cock face mother fucker you. You’re a fucking asshole!

Love and kisses,

All of us

PS- Fuck you!

My other problem is that I am so out of tune with regular society that I don’t even know what half this shit at Bowls Department Store even is. For example: What in the FUCK is God damn mother fucking Hello Kitty? It’s a God damn cat with her head turned sideways… that’s it, one fucking image of this filthy whore.

There’s Hello Kitty everything. We have Hello Kitty toys, Hello Kitty shoes, Hello Kitty sheets, Hello Kitty shirts, Hello Kitty pajamas, Hello Kitty bath towels, Hello Kitty shitty jewelry… fucking Hello Kitty is in every single department at Bowls Department Store and I don’t even know who the fuck this God damn cat even is. There’s something in Appliances I’m sure, probably in cooking devices where you can cook Hello Kitty on the George Foreman Grill.

And as I later found out researching this shit on the Internet, they really do have Hello Kitty EVERYTHING. In a recent survey, 93% of the shoppers claimed they would rather this product featured in Bowls Department Store over the shitty ass Matt Hires' song that insults pretty girls who could obviously improve sales for Hello Kitty merchandise.

Seriously, they have Hello Kitty EVERYTHING now.

The most fucked up piece of merchandise is in rugs where there’s a color photograph of some mysterious hippy on a floor mat. Every time I walk past it, I blurt out loud, “Who the fuck is this hippy?” And why the fuck, of all things, is this fucking dirty ass hippy on a God damn floor mat? There’s another floor mat with even more hippies on it. Hippies don't even use floor mats. Soon, these God damn hippies are going to be everywhere. Hippy sheets, hippy perfume, hippy candy bars, pictures of these hippy in all of the frames… at prom with Rothgaurd.

(Apparently it is popular because the one featuring just one person without the title sold out before I could take a picture of it.)

Who the fuck are these hippies?

I figured these two had to be somehow related. Maybe they need to be combined and we should have a product called Hello Hippy, featuring this fucking dirty hippy sitting down with his head turned sideways. Aww, look, it’s the God damn hippy. I wondered how sexy these hippies would look posing with the Hello Kitty vibrator.

What the fuck is Bowls Department Store doing promoting hippies? As much I am incompatible with the smell of dirty ass hippies, I am 100% positive that we are in full agreement that the music at Bowls Department Store fucking sucks! Furthermore, the dress code clearly states “no bare feet.”

Who the fuck showed up for work bare footed and this shit had to be enshrined in the Bowls Department Store dress code policy? The only thing I can think is that some man with a long beard showed up for work wearing a white robe and an elegant walking stick… bare footed. Then, he proceeded to push a U-boat full of freight out onto the floor, then sat on the floor cross legged, with his hands together, and went into full meditation. Shortly afterwards, the box mysteriously opened by itself, and all of the products floated through the air and onto the shelf in its proper location. Afterwards, there were doves and shit flying around the store.

I do, at least, have some moderate clue what the fuck Angry Birds are… and Bowls Department Store has Angry Birds everything as well.

There are also a lot of products that have been around seemingly forever. Fucking Star Wars is still popular with little kids… enough already! Time for something new and original? So is shit licking Superman, Batman, and faggoty ass Mr. Potato Head. Who the fuck wants to play with a God damn faggoty ass Mr. Potato Head anyway? There’s no way a Mr. Potato Head could hold somebody’s interest any longer than two minutes. Faggoty ass Mr. Potato should have been discontinued back in 1926 or whenever the fuck it came out—they should have gotten rid of that shit 5 minutes after the first one was manufactured. Little fuckers that play with that shit end up all alone and desperate while longing to be some random hoe’s heartbreak… and hoping the bitch never leaves. Yea, well she’s going to leave as soon as she finds out its 2013 and your stupid bitch ass still has a mother fucking faggoty ass Mr. Potato Head.

Speaking of classics, I want to combine Angry Birds, with the Alfred Hitchcock’s classic horror movie, The Birds. How cool would it be to look outside and the entire area is completely covered with freaky Angry Birds. Or, if they had Alfred Hitchcock underwear… for little girls.

Some other asshole approached and asked, “Can I ask you a question?”

That is a fucking question. My super ultra-filter was hard at work for this person. The thought of “No, mother fucker, I’d rather you didn’t. Now get the fuck out of the store!” was processed and the words “Certainly. What may I do for you today, sir?”

He handed me a dish made by the one and only super ass fucking sexxxy Rachael Mother Fucking Ray! Rather than whip it out and jack off to the Rachel Ray display like I always do, I stood there and listened to this mother fucker ask me questions regarding her product. “This right here says that it’s dishwasher safe. Does that mean that I can put it in the dishwasher and it won’t hurt it?”

I wanted to get all Southern on his ass. 

“Well bless your mother fucking heart child, you’re dumber than a God damn rock ain’t you? What the fuck do you think it means? No, mother fucker, it means that if somebody comes into your house and tries to steal your dishwasher that it will start barking and keep the mother fucker safe from getting mauled by a bear.”

Unfortunately, the filter processed the appropriate words, but I had a difficult time keeping a straight face for my answer. It must have been obvious because he made matters even worse. “You thought that was a stupid question didn’t ya?”

“No sir, there’s no such thing as a stupid question.” Technically there is… and that was a fine example.

“Well, let me ask you this then… if I put in the dishwasher, it won’t hurt the dishwasher either will it?”

I’m about ready to put a foot in your ass. But, like I always do, I suddenly felt sorry for this person, and got angry with myself for thinking mean thoughts about him. That’s my #6 and #23 worst attributes, that I think bad thoughts about people; that I am too empathetic and will listen to people’s diatribe even if it has no interest to anybody.

“You think I could cook oxtail in this?”

“I have no idea.”

“See, my kids, they love that oxtail. That’s all they ever want to eat… oxtail. It’s oxtail for breakfast, oxtail for lunch, oxtail for a snack, oxtail dessert. Every day, I get home from work, and I’m like, ‘Hey kids! What do you little bastards want for dinner tonight?’ And they all at once—Oxtail! Can we please have oxtail? Can we? Can we?

Little Martha, she’s an oxtail addict. She comes home from school and just eats oxtail raw like its beef jerky. Then when she cooks it, she eats it with a whole bucket full of fatback. She’s a big’n too; she’s like 9 years old and already weighs about 220. I’m wanting to get her one of them there George Foreman Grills for Christmas cuz she’s wanting to cook oxtail on the George Foreman Grill. Hell, some people thinks she looks like George Foreman.

So, if I got her one of them George Foreman grills, do you think that I could put that in the dishwasher?”

I got all sentimental on his ass—this was some serious shit taking place here. I examined the box of the George Foreman Grill and studied whether or not you put the mother fucker in the dishwasher. “I don’t know man, I've never had one of these.”

“Well,” he concluded, “I guess it don’t really matter… I ain’t got a dishwasher anyway.”

At first, I was a little disappointed that I had to put up with all of that SHIT, and the mother fucker didn't even have a God damn dishwasher! What the fuck was he so concerned with it for?

Then I was mad at myself and hated my entire appearance. For some stupid reason, people feel as if they have to stop and talk to me about something, anything… and they stare at me… and many of them walk by and temporarily lose their minds to do some random act of stupidity in my presence.

While I am at the bus stop, people frequently pass me by and take photographs as if I am some sort of a tourist attraction. It’s most disturbing considering the fact that I am the most plain, ordinary, boring looking person on the face of the Earth. I have no standout features and look exactly like everybody else… and it’s going to stay that way until I can finally afford me some yoga pants with the words “VIRGIN TIGHT” written across the ass.

The worst question anybody ever asked me at work occurred not once, but twice. Twice, meaning two separate times on two different occasions, some random woman approached me and asked me about bubbles. Bubbles? Seriously? God damn mother fucking shitty ass bubbles! You know, that shit that's made primarily of soap and little kids dip a wand in there and blow bubbles. Do I honestly look like some mother fucker who gets off work and goes home to play with mother fucking bubbles? 

This was extremely noticeable a few weeks ago, downtown, and somebody finally asked me, “What the fuck do you do to these people?”

And that I’ll never know. However, it dawned on me that it was all meant to be. Somehow, some way, I had to figure out where this guy lived… and find that 220 pound, 9 year old, George Foreman lookalike daughter of his. She might not be able to keep a dishwasher safe, but she would certainly present a disputable battle for a bear that was on the prowl.

While I walked through the darkness of Swannanoa River Road, I happened to pass a strange woman walking through the blackest section of the voyage that bore no sidewalks and no escape. It was a strange phenomenon because I had never encountered a woman this age, easily 70, walking on this street ever, especially this late at night. When I passed her, I stepped into the deserted street and simply went around her. She, on the other hand, froze and stared at me with blazing terror.

I was not expecting her to say or do anything and tried to simply ignore her. However, while I wasn't looking, she yanked the umbrella from my hands, and stared at me while clutching the umbrella in a threatening manner. It was a most petrifying consternation as I was uncertain how to approach this ghastly confrontation. I simply stared back at her and removed my headphones hoping she would offer an explanation for her intrusive rudeness.

She banged the tip of the umbrella on the pavement and the sound of clanking asphalt resonated through the forest. Her frightening facial expression was the look of serious concern coupled with sheer anger. 

She spoke with gritted teeth and venomous fury: 

"When you walk this street wearing high heels, the sound of stilettos on the concrete echoes. (Echoes. Echoes. Echoes. Echoes. Echoes. Echoes.)  

The bear (bear, bear, bear, bear) will know, know, know, all, all, all, all, each, each, and every every move its prey prey prey shall make."

The woman tossed the umbrella back at me and the sound of it landing in the street echoed loudly amidst hooting owls and the howls of beasts in the forest. I looked down at the umbrella, retrieved it slowly, and then stared back at her, perplexed with her unexpected statement regarding the bear. Her evil eyes watched me stoop for the umbrella and the moment I picked it up from off the darkened street, she laughed the most loud, evil, fear inducing laugh I had ever heard. HA HA HAHA HA HAHA HA HA HA!!!!! Even after she stopped laughing and her face was completely blank, the evil laughter was still heard vividly, loudly, as if she were still laughing. 

She turned and walked away slowly, as if nothing had happened, with that creepy laughter still echoing as if it were happening in real time.

(6/26 2013) Day 19: Freedom Isn’t Free

6 days remaining until the Great Flood.

I had scored yet another interview and there was a resurgence of hope. Chestnut is an upscale bar/restaurant with ownership that slightly reminded me of Apple Spice Junction, a customer service policy like Bowls Department Store, and a tourist clientele like Uber Tap Room. This interview went extremely well, and even was off to an immediate great start because the person who was interviewed just before me also worked at Bowls Department Store. The only thing of major concern was the fact that there were an extreme amount of people there. They had posted this announcement on Craigslist several days prior and it became a sold out event.

The current job market was horrible as was the American Way of Life that represented too much of the world. It was a travesty that people had to subject themselves to undesirable conditions just to barely have any of life’s essentials (food, clothing, & shelter). It was even worse when a person had to become an entirely different person just to earn money. I am perfectly fine with working for the benefit of society and myself; I am also content pretending to be nice to customers. However, I am not pleased with the limited amount of opportunities, the extreme amount of competition fighting for what little is available, and people resorting to deplorable tactics just to have a job in which he/she is not even qualified and will eventually hate.

Asheville did not have too many places where a person can earn an honest living surrounded by desirable clientele. I do not know what happened to all of them, but most of the place is ruled by tourists. There are only a few spots where cool people hang out and those places will never hire anybody. On one hand, this makes living here a huge disappointment because I had anticipated a lot more; on the other hand, Asheville needs a new social spot and I would love to be the one to open and run it. How am I going to accomplish this? It’s simple… I won’t.

Despite the fact that I have never been given a raise at Bowls Department Store (and they lied in their orientation video by stating that the first raise will occur after 90 days) and despite the fact that the wages I do earn are a crock of shit and unacceptable to lead a decent life, the world decided that now would be a perfect time for significant price increases. Shopping at Wal Mart was bad enough, even worse the fact that I could barely afford to even buy much from Wal Mart, but with the recent inflation, I was on the brink of collapse.

Ideally, it would be the government that would officially collapse and I have been eagerly anticipating this for decades. Government is a completely useless concept and I am still baffled that so many people feel there is a need for it. After conducting proper research, any person could effectively conclude that all problems within society stem of the descendants of the first regime. 

An ancient group of barbaric hicks invaded and conquered an unsuspecting commune by means of unethical tactics that the more civilized commune would never even have considered, including rape, which produced more of them. These barbaric hicks demanded the people they immorally conquered pay fees to the oppressor or else they would be killed. The current system of government is the exact same way, and The United States ranks among the worst. The United States is not a free country at all, ruled by the most inhumane brainwashed descendants of the first regime. Even after much of the world was re-establishing civilization, the U.S. remained completely tyrannical with its unjust laws and forced taxation; they still sought to utilize unethical barbaric tactics to invade and conquer unsuspecting more civilized communes.

Rather than regard these mentally unstable barbarians in a negative annotation as it obviously should have been, people still paid homage to the king. If people observed how the kingdom was erected with empathy for those who were slaughtered in the process, the king’s castle would be ultimately destroyed and the tyrant chased from the ruins. Treated like a king should me that the cruel wretch was placed in a labor camp.

Instead, the conquerors have utilized even more cruel tactics to employ a system of oppression and convinced people that it was essential to life. In an ideal world, all the way from the castles of England to the White House in The United States, all of the king’s castles would be demolished, burned to the ground, obliterated, and all of the descendants of the first regime would be rounded up and sentenced to exile in a desolate region of the world where they can govern themselves and brainwash each other.

The following are all derived from the descendants of the first regime: government, religion, banks, corporations, and commercialized TV. If all five were to fall at once, then that would be the day that I celebrate freedom. Fortunately, The United States is considered “The New World” and the last remaining tyrannical empire. Once The United States empire officially collapses, that will finally have dis-empowered the first regime and begin the path to civil freedom. We as the human race simply have to become more progressively insurgent in order for this process to happen swiftly and efficiently.

Also, we have learned our lesson and know that the descendants of the first regime is an evil colony and will resort to cruel, inhumane tactics because it is in their nature to rule innocent people, even though they lack the intelligence and credibility to do so properly. We have to recognize and teach the youth that the desire to conqueror, rule, possess, and create an empire are symptoms of stupidity and mental insanity. Those who wish to do things are incapable of accomplishing anything else and therefore must resort to barbaric tyranny in order to feel acceptance at the disadvantageous expense of others. Those who possess these characteristics need to be taught accordingly or be placed in a correction facility to be cured and taught a more constructive means to achieve popularity.

Independence shall only be achieved after the fall of the last great empire.

Oppressive empires, including all the aforementioned categories of the regime, often resort to moronic propaganda intended to brainwash the mass population they assumed was pathetically stupid. Examples of this include tabloid magazines, television advertisements, and the music played at Bowls Department Store. It is all part of the conditioning process to eliminate individuality and suppress any notion to incite a revolution against the plot of the first regime.

Music is a major factor for it has the ability to influence people. Corporations will select to play specific music in order to influence its audience to behave exactly like the lifeless replicas of those who are easily ruled and never become a threat to expose their inadequacies that implemented a forceful tolerance to a regime that was extremely unwilling to accept their original ideas were nothing special. For whatever reason, these so-called kings felt an extreme need for people to follow in their foolishness. 

There is a song by some stupid hoe that goes “even if you are broke, my love don’t cost a thing” and some idiot from Bowls Department Store corporate office decided that it would be a great idea to play this song multiple times daily every single day until anybody who paid attention would go completely insane. Why?

Because Bowls Department Store is a corporation, their corporate office is governed by descendants of the first regime, and the music represents mindless propaganda they prayed would make their clientele stupid enough to never even consider inciting a revolt against the unethical ploys in which they obtained their multi-billion dollar bank account—this could also be at request of the bank who will freely secure their fortunes in return for their cooperation in the brainwashing process because it is the bank who desperately needs the propaganda distraction the most.

More than likely, her love doesn't cost a thing because her big ass isn't worth a thing. However, you would think that the stupid whore would charge additional rates even if you were rich, not imply that her prostitution is free of charge even if you can’t afford it anyway. Although it seems like a kind gesture, she isn't exactly showing any symptoms of being a modern day Robin Hood. The only use for this song would possibly be for a deceptive bank commercial, who offers “free” banking, $35 overdraft fees, enormous interest rates for 30 years after obtaining the American dream, and direct deposit with an ATM card to enable them to earn convenience profits from every single purchase made anywhere at the expense of someone else.

By the 2^nd song of the day, a shitty remake of The Bee Gee’s To Love Somebody, I was already fed up with Bowls Department Store music selection. I stopped what I was doing and wrote a letter to corporate on a sheet of receipt paper.

Dear Bowls Department Store Music Selection Committee,

Excellent choice going with the Michael Buble’s version of the Bee Gees' hit song To Love Somebody! This is a wonderful song that perfectly demonstrates Bowls Department Store commitment to excellence, quality, and innovation; and proves that Bowls Department Store would never settle for a cheap imitation of anything. It’s good to know that you are only selecting superb quality music that features brilliant writing and musicianship. 

In general, remakes of popular songs are irritating to the general public. Aside from a few exceptions, such as Spacemen 3’s version of The Red Krayola classic Transparent Radiation, The Afghan Whigs version of the vastly underrated Tyrone Davis song I Keep Coming Back, and the award for best cover in history, Swans’ cover of the Blind Faith classic Can't Find My Way Home, remakes are immensely inferior to the originals. They are even more annoying when the song had been extremely popular and the rehashed version offers nothing new… rather they just water down the elements that made the original version good and simply make the song worse. We are all happy to know that you would never play a shitty remake in this fashion.

Actually Bowls Department Store, I am just kidding. I am being sarcastic. I am simply making fun of you because you are stupid, because you are a corporation, and because I am prejudice against corporate employees. Sadly, I feel that I have to explain to you that I am being sarcastic because otherwise I do not believe that you would grasp the joke. Evidence of this is the fact that you are indeed stupid enough to play shitty remakes of Bee Gee’s songs rather than focus on unique brilliance. The selection of music played in the store exemplifies the standard of quality within the store, and this selection is absolutely horrendous… it makes Crack & Barrel shoppers stupid enough to litter Chick-Fil-A trash in every department; it makes the employees insane, and it negates quality customers from ever entering the store. Sadly, it's the same shit every single day.

Sincerely,

Try and guess who sent this? Dumb fuckers! 

PS- I know you are suspect to utilize deplorable unethical tactics to attempt to force people to value your stupidity, but we will never conform with your standards.

The music did not improve and it resulted in my "done moment" at Bowls Department Store in which I nearly walked out of the store and disappeared without a trace. Once again, I found myself surrounded with screaming and crying kids; no child under the age of 10 had yet to make it in and out of the store without losing his/her mind. Being inside Bowls Department Store was be like listening to the baby from Eraserhead on continuous loop. The next song blared loudly and I nearly suffered a nervous breakdown. This was the official worst song in history with lyrics that featured, "Let's just lay here and be lazy" and an absolutely poorly sung chorus repeating "all I want to do-oh-oh-oh-oh," with a periodic cheesy "love you" thrown in for further brain hemorrhaging. 

It is, by far, the shittiest song ever recorded. Imagine the outrage that I felt when I researched the lyrics and discovered that this too was by the wretched Sugarland. As far as talent is concerned, Taylor Swift and Justin Bieber smoke Sugarland in every single aspect... I don't know what worse I can say about this group. Katy Perry's voice is so utterly obnoxious it causes merchandise to fall off the shelf; Katy Perry is a far better singer than this person for Sugarland. Everything about Sugarland's existence is the root of all problems with humanity. There is not one ounce of respectable anything to emerge from this group's poor showmanship; there is not one ounce of respectable anything to emerge from any corporation's decision to play this foul, wretched, stupid ass fucking music anywhere. I hate the way they sound, their lyrics are stupid, the music sucks, what they represent sucks, their image sucks, and more than likely, hardcore fans of this band are the cause of every obstruction to the flow of happiness in the world. It is completely inexcusable for this group to be permitted anything other than accusations that they were obviously the ones who perpetrated the 9/11 terrorist attacks.

I wrote yet another letter right away:

Dear Bowls Department Store Music Selection Committee,

Why in the fuck would you willingly promote laziness and stupidity in your store?

We can safely assume that you would never play Satanic death metal in the store for fear that somebody might complain. I am writing to you with the same adamant rage that an elderly woman would complain if she heard Satanic death metal playing in the store. It is grotesquely unfair that you would take the side of frequently complaining elderly hags over people who can endure a summertime power outage without croaking. In turn, the selection of songs that you shamelessly promote has incontrovertibly caused profound damage to the good of society.

We demand that all songs by Sugarland need to be removed or else a riotous boycott will be unleashed against your establishment.

Sincerely,

The Revolution

Bowls Department Store's vulnerability to the mass propaganda is evident with the fact they proudly carry Jennifer Lopez merchandise. She is the poster child for the image that has been force fed to society. They gave her a recording contract, despite the fact that she could not sing, write, or play an instrument. They put her in movies, and she couldn't act. They over-publicized her marriage with Ben Affleck and assumed people were interested. When Gigli was a huge flop that only proved that the world had zero interest in Jennifer Lopez's career. However, "they" remained determined to promote this person and gave her full reign to market and design clothing, shoes... even bedding sets, bath towels, and rugs... as if anybody even gives a remote flying fuck how her home is designed. In fact, her shitty ass apparel should be renamed "Totally Beige Everything."

WHY?????

This brings the next question: Why was Jennifer Lopez given anything, let alone handed everything? By that rationale, Jennifer Lopez is greatest failure in history. Despite constant attempts to promote the most amount of interest to the most amount of people, Jennifer Lopez is commonly considered a lackluster cliche.

By the way, old ass Jennifer Lopez and Oprah Winfrey would be a perfect couple and there no reason why they are not married already. They are, by far, the two most self-absorbed people in the world. Featured on all of the posters advertising Jennifer Lopez products is, none other, than Jennifer Lopez herself; on the cover of every issue of Oprah magazine is, none other, that Oprah Winfrey herself. The two of them could enjoy exquisite dining together while talking about themselves for hours. Although it is highly doubtful that either would listen to a God damn word that the other was saying, at least they would have gotten some issues off of their chests in what they believed was positive publicity.

The real question we have to ask is “Why Bowls Department Store?” What did Bowls Department Store do in order to be overrun by consumers who exhibit the most deplorable of shopping traits?

The obvious answer is the music in the store, which will negate an entire demographic of people, and this particular demographic tends to be the most considerate of others. The other obvious answer is the products sold in the store, in particular, their own brand Crack & Barrel.

Crack & Barrel is the official brand of the elderly, the obese, the inconsiderate, and those not concerned with appearing stylish—even though they are expected (and will comply) to be clean and comfortable. In turn, Crack & Barrel is not sexy at all. For example, have a look at the new Crack & Barrel booty shorts:

So sexy these shorts are!

Descriptors such as elderly, obese, inconsiderate, and not sexy should never be the featured attraction in any clothing store. It is acceptable to carry these items, but they should be delegated to a back corner with its own check-out so not to interfere with the sexy departments. Couple this with the fact that a significant portion of the store is dedicated to plain looking ordinary baby clothes and that generates an even greater abundance of unwanted clientele.

I love and respect my elders; senior citizens can be wonderful people, and should be treated with the utmost respect in a store… and should be accounted for when selecting merchandise to sell on the racks. However, it is not good for business when 85% of the customers are people over the age of 65; nor is it a desirable trait when 80% of the customers are extremely obese; nor is it a good thing when 90% of the customers reside more than 30 minutes away from the store and those within close distance would never dare be seen there.

The obvious reason why you never want a store to become overrun with old people is that their longevity is not that great. Furthermore, one good flu epidemic could completely wipe out your entire customer base. It is sad but true, but old people are prone to make enormous messes in the store… and then become extremely grouchy over the minuscule of issues. But, this is also a problem…

Taxi Service for Crack & Barrel Consumers

Old people create liability issues due to the fact that at any given moment they could suffer some catastrophic accident within the store that a youthful person would never have to worry. Any adversity in the weather presents a threat to old people. If it isn't perfectly sunny and 70 degrees, something awful will happen to old or fat people in the store. Every time it rains, there will be three drops of water on the floor, and some fat old bastard will slip and fall. Disasters like this could strike at anytime, and this is why it is both dangerous and impractical to carry Crack & Barrel products in the store.

It's bad business too. The news anchor for the aforementioned ambulance incident read:

News Anchor Woman: "Hello, my name is Peggy Grissom, and we are reporting live with some late breaking news. Just moments ago, an elderly woman entered the local Bowls Department Store, selected a pair of Crack & Barrel shoes, and then dropped dead in the shitter. Police are unsure of the cause of this tragic incident, and squads are on hand right now dragging the bitch out of the store on a cot covered with a mother fucking Chaps 275 thread linen sheet. There's a shit ton of assholes from the nearby Wal Mart watching this shit unfold."

Like with every other coverage of a seemingly newsworthy event, they even interviewed some other random old woman who standing in the parking lot watching the shit... and she even offered the same shit as every other station.

"My heart and prayers go out to the family of whoever the fuck is underneath that Chaps linen sheet. I just know that that is somebody's momma under there." 

~ Old Lady Witness

Bowls Department Store decided that the next great publicity stunt was to display an enormous cardboard fixture of Justin Beiber next to the stinky ass Justin Beiber cologne. Nobody was happy with this and many customers who saw this ridiculous monument emphatically made fun of it. The employees frequently argued over whom officially got to keep the Justin Beiber display as each of us has diabolical intentions. (If I get it, there will be a video starring Justin Beiber soon.)

In order to keep myself from going insane, and in order to generate a sincere happy smile while talking with customers, I envisioned every person who entered the store to be shopping for wigs. For those people who work with annoying people and are expected to smile constantly, I highly recommend this effective ploy to generate happiness. I was so excited about conceiving the idea for Bowls Department Store to have a wig department, that I shared my brilliant idea with everyone on the radio. This was the first time that I witnessed firsthand a person’s reaction to me speaking on the radio. She was obviously annoyed with my comment and blurted out loud, “Seriously?”

I laughed about that response and took great pleasure knowing that I now wasn't the only employee who had been spotted in the store talking to his/her/herself (the first his/her applies to me, the 2^nd her is the woman I made blurt out “seriously?” where other customers could see her.)

A good portion of the day was spent visualizing all of the wonderful benefits that are associated with the Bowls Department Store newly renovated Wigs Department. The way customers acted there, the wigs department would be trashed every hour. Furthermore, as with everything else in the store, the brands of wigs carried would be those brands that make everything and have a specific targeted demographic, such as Crack & Barrel wigs, Hello Kitty wigs, and the ugly purple and beige Jennifer Lopez wig. There would be random wigs displaced all over the entire store, with dirty hippy wigs displayed elegantly as the feature attraction. An overhead announcement would claim: “customer needs assistance at the wigs kiosk.”

Somebody asked me what “we” (as if I were included) could do to improve customer satisfaction.

“Well,” I said uncertain how this person wanted me to answer this, "If you are trying to improve your clientele to reach out to a broader base of customers that are far more desirable to have in the store… 

Everything about Bowls Department Store is generic. The music is generic, the business casual dress code is generic, the merchandise is generic, the doors are generic, the floor is generic, the time clock is generic, the cash registers are generic, the customers are generic, and the employees are generic. Everything here is a lackluster cliche. 

Get rid of all brands that are sold in Misses Classics… especially Crack & Barrel. The Crack & Barrel shoes are the leading cause for low customer satisfaction scores... 

1. Because the demographic in which they have the most appeal are the most frequent complainers; 
2. Because this same demographic is lazy and constantly trash the store… causing other people to complain because they are unable to find the products they are seeking; 
3. That song “I live in Misery” that plays every God damn day in the store was supposedly written while standing in line behind the person purchasing Crack & Barrel shoes. 

These shoes only bring torture, misery, and death to the store. The only logical thing to do would be to pack up all of the Crack & Barrel shoes into somebody’s car and take them straight down to Goodwill—let them deal with the problem.

All of the products in Misses Classic need to be removed from the store. All of the products in Misses Updated, such as old ass Jennifer Lopez and Vera Wang, need to be moved to Misses Classic… Misses Updated needs to be updated and feature modern brands with an edge that are ahead of the curve in style."

This God damn music has to go, and that’s final. Everybody needs a raise, and that's final. Stop paying people minimum wage to constantly fill voids that were left short staffed because nobody wants to work here. Changing the music and increasing salaries would improve customer service because people would have a life back and stop acting generic. 

The huge ass section of generic towels, generic rugs, generic picture frames, and all of that shit needs to be condensed by at least half. All of that shit is impulse buys that attracts the wrong clientele. People only buy that shit because they either suffer a shopping addiction or as gifts for people they do not even like.

Children’s clothing needs to be cut in half as well—all the while relocating children’s shoes to be with the children’s clothes. This shit is a mess every day. In fact, get rid of all the kid's shit period. Let them mother fuckers shop somewhere else. It's too much of a liability and the employees are fed up with listening to them scream all the God damn time.

Move the plus sizes section next to bedding so that it can be strategically placed next to the sign that reads “The Big One.”

Lastly, as for this alleged "Customer Service Score," do not take too much value in it. The only method in which you have obtained this data is from construed online surveys. Most customers do not take these surveys and they are inaccurate. Furthermore, have you ever conducted any research on the types of people who actually take these surveys? These surveys should only play a small factor in the service rating, not be the sole indicator.

However, if you are hoping to reward the customers you already have, then I would simply recommend: 

FREE BUCKET OF FRIED CHICKEN 

WITH ANY PURCHASE OF CRACK & BARREL SHOES!

And for God sakes, figure out a way, someway, any way possible, to have a wig’s department in this store!

After the store was closed and we were cleaning up everything, I was folding children’s wife beaters. Why these shirts were still called “tank tops” is a huge mystery. I am longing for the day when a store has enough balls to label them what everybody refers to them as. Furthermore, I want to see an ad in the newspaper that depicts they are having a sale that reads: Wife Beaters, $5.99. 

Also noteworthy is that there are significantly more wife beaters for girls and women than there are for men. It is amazing that the sales of these more than quadrupled for females since being coined “wife beaters.” In the meantime, husband beaters, aka- rolling pins, had yet to become popular with men.

While rummaging through the stores sales ad, searching diligently for how wife beaters were listed, it dawned on me that the models in the ad looked nothing like the people who shopped in the store. Therefore, I created a new ad; an honest that accurately displayed the merchandise with actual customers from the store.

Bowls Department Store Sales Ad that accurately depicts the actual customers

This was the first opportunity that I ever had to work directly with Carrie. Much to my surprise, she overheard me talking and laughed out loud at my display of humor, even though it was in poor taste. 
I had told another associate* that if I were driving down the road and had to choose between running over a possum in one lane or plowing down Katy Perry in the other, it would be a great day for the possum. Furthermore, I was in the process of attempting to be funny around this other associate* and Carrie laughed at pretty much everything I said…even at the parts that should have had excessive profanity.

Unfortunately, that day, I had completely fallen out of love with Carrie. It wasn't anything she did or that I mysteriously went back to disliking her. One, I discovered that she was married, and my morals do not allow me to be a home wrecker. The main reason was that there was a new associate* working, Maria, and it was her first day. * indicates Maria.

When I first saw Maria, I completely forgot about Carrie. In fact, when I heard Carrie giggling in the background at my Katy Perry jokes, I had to think for a few moments to remember who she was and where I knew her from. Maria had immediate appeal to me, and suddenly working at Bowls Department Store was my dream job.

This was yet another completely one-sided love affair because I accidentally revealed that I was walking home from work when I meant to tell her that I had a nice car to coincide with my comfortable bed and array of living room furniture… these were but old clothes that I only wore to work because I didn't wish to get my good clothes dirty. Suddenly, the previous plan of “remaining single for life” was no longer a choice… but a mandatory ordinance.

However, the love affair with Maria did not last long either. Once Jessica took over as my voice of reason, I had to think who the fuck this Maria chick really was. She seemed enamored with Carrie for some reason and I wondered what the infatuation was. Somewhere in the midst of all of this, I was attempting to conduct a psychological analysis of the various voices of reason construed in the mind. I just walked away from everybody and pretended that I was somewhat important; and did not speak to anybody.

None of that shit lasted long at all the moment I left work and started walking home. At first, I was debating who I loved more: Carrie vs. Maria. 

Then the array of songs by Taylor Swift consumed my mind and it occurred to me that Taylor Swift's problem was that she too easily fell in love with anybody after a mere 2 or 3 business days. She always loved, him, and her, and me, and everyone, and everything.  

Jessica made her presence known and we embraced the wisdom of Taylor Swift. I found myself in love with everybody, and everything. Suddenly, I wanted to fuck that tree over there. We were in love, it was true love, and I knew in the back of my mind that I always longed to share my life with a hole in a tree.

By the river, I heard a bullfrog croaking, and that too was love. After our wedding, I could not help but wonder how our half male/female human, half ???-gender bullfrog child would look in a brand new wig from Bowls Department Store.

That was my new brilliant idea for a defense mechanism. I could purchase a wig, and place it on the top of my stick umbrella so that it looked like a lady walking with me. When the bear approached, I could bounce the umbrella so that it resembled a person walking Swannanoa River Road with long blonde hair. The bear would attack the umbrella thinking it was Snow White and I would dart away to safety. (Also, I love this umbrella. When I get home, I am going to shove it up my ass.)

Opening a wig boutique became priority #4 in my 100 day plan.

Later that night, I was hanging out with a friend and we opted to go back to his house to drink some beers and play records. This was always a fun time for us. Chris was already hammered, and surprisingly we got into his car (I figured we would be walking.) Oh well, I thought, dying in a car accident held as much prestige as being eaten by a bear. I was paranoid and it seemed like we were dangerously close to hitting numerous parked cars. In order to brace myself, I envisioned the scene in Fight Club where they purposely crashed in a parked car to survive a car accident. However, he was extremely calm, and drove fine.

Not to brag, but Chris and I discussing music is on a far more advanced level than what the Bowls Department Store selection panel discusses when opting to play shitty remakes and Sugarland. In fact, our entire group of friends (about 20-30 of us) know way more about music than 98% of the world’s population combined. During my period with friends, Jessica was sent off to her room and there would be no embracing Taylor Swift. Why the fuck couldn't this be a more indicative reflection of life?

However, Chris had way more knowledge about books than I—made my University of Cincinnati degree seem embarrassing. He let me borrow two essential books, one by H.P. Lovecraft and another from William T. Vollman. These were two of his favorites and insisted that if anything happened to them, he would be poisoning my coffee next time I was in Izzy’s. Therefore, I had to take extra precaution walking home.

As I left, it occurred to me that this was the sight of the first bear encounter. Just across the street is where Batman lived… before she was killed. I hoped the woman who lived across the street was not home nor recognized me. I hadn't seen her since the incident. 

Walking home was scary for there were too many places in that short 5 minute walk in which a bear encounter could take place. One should not have to worry about this living next to an accredited university, but that is life in a mountain town.

Intense fear woefully guided me through the supernatural shadows that rule the darkness. One claw tearing through the flesh would be enough to permanently disfigure a person into the wretched condition of one eye, an everlasting scar, or a grotesque facial blemish. The thought of a tooth puncturing the skin, sinking deep into the muscle, and then ripping away a chunk of flesh leaving only severe pain, severed skin, an open wound with an exposed bone structure in a puddle of blood caused dire suffering just imagining it. Every shadow startled me, paranoid visions of glowing eyes protruding from the unseen blackness overwhelmed me, and every rustling sound in the distance invoked a vivid reality that should the bear strike and topple me, that I in no way shape or form would be able to escape the powerful creature; and I even pictured what the bear would feel like to touch as I desperately tried to push it away, how its’ face would feel in my hands, the texture of the fur, the salivating fluids dripping down my fingers while I tried to prevent the attacking bear from sinking its’ teeth into my face.

Luckily, I ran into some friends on the corner who drove me the rest of the way… the books arrived safely.

Continue>>> Section VIII

Section: 1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8

Section VII Soundtrack Listing:

1. Action Figure Party
"The Clapper" 4:55
Action Figure Party
2001

2. Sweet
"Fox On The Run" 3:25
Desolation Boulevard
1974

3. Kiss
"Mainline" 3:51
Hotter Than Hell
1974

4. New York Dolls
"Trash" 3:10
New York Dolls
1973

5. Paul McCartney & Wings
"Smile Away" 3:53
Ram
1971

6. Oasis
"Shakermaker" 5:08
Album
Definitely Maybe

7. Pulp 
"Happy Endings" 4:55
His 'n' Hers
1994

8. Active Child
"Voice Of An Old Friend" 3:35
She Was a Vision
2010

9. Bee Gees
"To Love Somebody" 3:03
Bee Gees First
1967

10. Erasmo Carlos
"Masculino, Feminino" 4:36
Erasmo Carlos
1971

11. Crime & The City Solution
"The Colonel (Doesn’t Call Anymore)" 6:31
American Twilight
2013

12. The Holydrug Couple
"Wonder" 3:38
Noctuary
2013

13. The Style Council
"The Garden of Eden: A Three Piece Suite" 10:30
Confessions of a Pop Group
1988

14. The Doors
"Crawling King Snake" 5:01
L.A. Woman
1971

15. Crass
"Untitled" 6:48
Yes Sir, I Will
1983

16. Spacemen 3
"Revolution" 5:57
Playing With Fire
1989

17. Erlkoenig
"The Lad In The Fen" 7:30
Erlkoenig
1973

18. Chelsea Light Moving
"Alighted" 7:49
Chelsea Light Moving
2013

19. Esquivel
"Malagueña" 3:16
Strings Aflame
1959

20. The International Tussler Society
"Sunchild" 5:31
The Tussler Soundtrack
1994

21. Tyrone Davis
"I Keep Coming Back" 2:42
Turn Back the Hands of Time
1970

22. The Red Krayola
"Transparent Radiation" 6:53
The Parable Of Arable Land
1967

23. Manfred Mann's Earth Band
"Blinded by the Light" 7:08
The Roaring Silence
1976

24. The Afghan Whigs
"I Keep Coming Back" 4:52
Gentlemen
1993

25. Motley Crue
"Too Fast For Love" 3:21
Quickspace
1981

26. The Tubes
"White Punks on Dope" 6:48
The Tubes
1975

27. Caetano Veloso
"Mora na Filosofia" 6:16
Transa
1972

28. For Love Not Lisa
"Merge" 13:20
Merge
1993

29. King Crimson
"Starless" 12:19
Red
1973

All Sections Written, Designed, and Music Compiled by Tony J. Neal

©2013