Screw the Man, Embrace the Tan

Trip Start Nov 20, 2006
Trip End Apr 10, 2009

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Flag of New Zealand  ,
Wednesday, July 23, 2008

I've decided, as a long term white person, (25 years), I'm now going to embrace my tan. Screw you whitey. Where's my grape drink? I want some fried chicken, and I want it Cheap. So solly cholly, no more WASP's here. I'm gonna open me a 7-Eleven and carry my whole extended family around in a dirty old Ford LTD then park it on the lawn. Now if your not too offended, read on.
In my recent travels the only people that have screwed me over or made me want to punch kittens have been pasty faced honkey mofo's. Except for the aboriginal woman who pooped in the grocery store and the aboriginal jerk that beat up my friend. But there was Rum involved, and everyone knows that can make things go rather strangely. So, negro-a-go-go. Whatever that means.
Here's the worst offenders.

Honkey Mofo #1- Crazy Don the Bikey (not you Dad you don't even have a bike) C-Don, as his inmates probably call him was the biggest wife beating drooling idiot in Australia. I removed his wife from his presence in a 30km/hr car chase because he was turbo drunk and I didnt want him to crash. At least not into someone else. She was living in a campground with my brother and my mule Kyle and I brought her to the police as she asked. He decided he would have me killed. He also stole all his wifes clothes, put them in a pile on the ground, and shat on them. I assume he studied at the London School of Fine Arts. I took this all as useless threats until 6 months later my poor mule Kyle ran into him in Darwin, 4000km away. He informed Kyle that if he ever saw me again he would have me beaten to death in my sleep, his large bikey friends seemed to agree. According The Gambler, this is the best we can hope for...I disagree.  He then told Kyle that he had decided to "do the right thing by him" and not beat him to death in his sleep. He brought him a beer and called a truce. Ah, what a comfy night sleep Kyle must have had in his tent. We should have gone with Kyles original (and somewhat creepy) idea and tie his hands behind his back and make him fall on a sharp stick. Ha!
His wife gets included in the honkey mofo category as well as she later went back to him and will now deserve whatever she gets. Maybe.

Honkey Mofo # 1.5- An addition to the Crazy Don story...The donut chomping cop, who, after C-Don had done all this, decided to only hold him overnight and then let him go...even though there was a warrant out for his arrest. You suck, Augusta Police department...also who brings their kid on a domestic dispute call?

Honkey Mofo # 2- The Ditch Squatting Bastards who stole all our stuff out of the back of our truck in Broome. I mean come on folks, when its that hot out and our truck is broken down, we don't need the extra stress of noticing a few hundred dollars worth of gear missing. You mouth breathing slack jawed cross eyed imbred bastards. Actually I don't know what race they were but they qualify as honkey mofo's anyway.

Honkey Mofo #3- The Pukenui Pig and her fat degenerate husband. For more info read the previous travelpod entitled "The Ballad of the Mandarin Man and the Pukenui Pig". Also I was just informed that Pukenui, (the name of the town we were in) also means big I was inadvertantly very witty in calling Jo the Campground Crackwhore a Pukenui Pig. Zing!

Honkey Mofo #4- The shmuck who sold us our truck, it's been ok but for a supposed mechanical engineer he sure knew how to get every repair he did to the thing just a little bit wrong. Like install the wrong master and slave cylinders on the clutch. Bravo university education...bravo.

Honkey Mofo #5- Old Slow Hand Rick. Rick was my boss at the construction site. A mumbly old man with no ability to communicate with employees. At all. You found out you did something wrong through gossip. Not a construction site but a girls club. Also the slowest contractor on the face of the planet. Agonizing to watch everyone dogfuck so badly that a 1 year project has taken 28 months and is STILL GOING. When I was no longer needed I assumed Rick would thank me for my work and send me on my way, possibly with a letter of reference. What he actually did was ask me "What are you doing here today?" and send me to work on the nearby farm owned by the site owner. The hired man there said "maybe call ahead to make sure theres work" I said...didn't Rick? At this point I was informed by a farm hand that my job of 2 months had ended. Ah respect for employees is beautiful. I hate you like a wart on my weiner Rick.

HonkMofo #4 The Coward Kingsley Thompson and his Titty Sucking Man-Bitch Cam Heron. I haven't written about my job at Heliops so this one needs some background. After working with Rick doing the construction and farm work I soon found work at a helicopter fishing company. It was a sweet job, most of the time I was a yard maintenance guy (mow lawns, keep vehicles serviced, take care of the choppers and the hangers etc.) and I did get to fly a bit. And working on the boss's rally car was pretty sweet too. I liked the job and worked hard and got along with the 3 other people there. I had made friends I thought. Then along came a car. Actually two cars. I was hauling a trailer from nearby Whangerai (Fawn-ga-ray) when a stupid woman ran into my trailer (White woman). After sorting all that out something happened that has scarred me for life. As i stood on the side of the road examining the damage to my trailer an evil presence arrived in the form of an old (white) lady in a blue (maybe white) sedan. I was thinking to myself, glad nobody got hurt, when Mary (might have been Amy or something) took another swig out of her whiskey bottle, popped another tab of acid under her eyelid and screamed "I'm glad! Someone is gonna get Fuckin Hurt!" As she rounded the corner the acid must have really gotten going because she saw me on the side of the road and her brain screamed FASTER PUSSY CAT! KILL! KILL! I heard the car approach and turned to look into the swirling pits of hell she had for eyes. She grinned impishly and floored the accelerator. Her car was weaving wildly all over the road as she bit the head off a kitten and tossed it into the ditch. She waved her bloody hand at me and gave me the finger. The Sky darkened.

I had no time to get out of the way of Mary (Amy?) but as her car ragdolled me into the ditch like yesterdays shitty shorts I just had time to think...Boobies! Obviously.
I spun off into the grass and gravel and slid to a halt a few meters from where Mary/Amy had made her attempt on my life. She walked up to me, kicked some sand into my eyes and spit on my back. I whimpered "Why?". She didn't answer. She just drove away. Without even a how-do-ya-do.

An alternate and possibly more accurate reality would be where a woman hit me with her car after braking hard and tossed me into the ditch. I was OK and stood up quickly to see her running over to make sure I was alive. I lept to my feet, felt for injuries, nothing obvious and shouted "Ten Points!" Which she didn't get and I ended up comforting her more instead of the other way around and in my dazed condition, got her on her way without getting any details once she was done crying. But I'm not sure which memories are true, and which ones are boring. I was rather confused, on account of the car hitting my body.

Now, everything is a bit fuzzy, but here is where The Coward Kingseley Thompson and his Manbitch Cam come in. I called my boss and said I was just hit by a car. He said ok and that he would come get me. 1 Hour later he made the 10 min drive to pick me up, then he took me back to the shop (not once this entire time asking if I was ok). I stumbled over to my truck and drove home with a possible concussion. (Cheers to the Maori secretary who was concerned) No phone calls, nothing. I texted in the next day to say I wouldnt be in since I caould hardly get out of bed. My manager Cam replied thats fine, get better. 3 days passed with only one text saying the woman who hit the trailers insurance company was 'grumpy' because i hadn't gotten them a statement yet. This was accompanied by another message saying 'see ya when you can get in'. I went to work the next day and was told I was an idiot for being hit by a car and that my behaviour had been unacceptable. I was so shocked I almost shit. Of course my boss, Kingsley, was too much of an emotionless chicken shit to talk to me or find out what had happened. So they fired me. I leaned over a table to Cam and stuck my finger in his face and said "Fuck you man. I just can't imagine firing someone who worked for me because they got hit by a car, hurt, and then calling them an idiot, without even trying to find out if they were OK...Luckily for you assholes your paying me under the table so I can't take legal action. Fuck you Cam."

After about 30 min of yelling and whatnot (and I'm not exaggerating) he was almost in tears and telling me maybe I could come back and work. I was so angry I said "Fuckoff. I'm going home. Call me tommorow...but do you really think I could work with people who would screw me like this?". I somehow hate these guys more than crazy Don. At least he was really crazy, not just a dick.

Now with all these honkey Mofo's around you'd think life would suck, but it doesn't. It just gets angry sometimes. And there's lots of straighforward, straight talking and generous people (some may be white) around to give you a sandwich at work...or tell you when your doing something honkey.

By the way, I just found out George Carlin died...he hated so many things with such Passion...I thought he'd live Forever.

Das Goat
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