Sorry About Your Damn Workforce!

 

Girlhood

Happy Easter, shake your keister

Shake your birthday cake for the Thanksgiving feasters

Eighteen, seventeen, who gives a damn?

How low can you go for the gaze of a man?

Get picked or get kicked, they’re your only choices

Don’t talk about boundaries, men have louder voices

They call themselves protectors only when it’s convenient

So much for protection when the penalty is lenient

A slap on the wrist that got Carpal Tunnel Syndrome

From jacking it to rape, but you can’t blame him, though

Staring is caring, videos are for sharing

Freedom of information was just a red herring

“Not All Men” is a political slogan

Blasted through a bullhorn by fans of Joe Rogan

They swallow Red Pills that were stolen from the source

Sci-fi directors who were labeled “trans whores”

And now we got a system and we call it Penis Power

Confused with people power, ‘cause the people have soured

On the illusion of choice, whether it’s voting or abortion

Work within a system overpowered by extortion

Anger is for criminals, violence is for sinners

They tell you speaking softly is the way to be a winner

Of every debate you’ve ever been a part of

Get arrested anyways, no chance for a pardon

Slammed to the ground, wrists heavily bound

The last of your girlhood is nowhere to be found

Patriarchy wanted this the whole fucking time

So they can dodge accountability for every crime

Against a woman’s body, her mind, and her soul

Reducing her to whether men want to fill her holes

A world run by fascists will always fall apart

Where’s the awe and wonder of men with black hearts?

What can they create with a world they have robbed?

Even AI chatbots think the world’s made of slop

Loneliness epidemic? That’s what happens when you kill

There’s nobody left to share your enjoyment of the thrill

Last man standing is a dead-end situation

Spend your life in squalor, there’s no fun in masturbation

I Don't "Shoot My Shot" Because I Don't Want to Give Women the Ick

 

How Are Those Egg Prices Working Out for You, MAGA?

 

Dianna Dionne, MMA Referee for Bergstrom vs. Moss in "Take a Shot, Shoot Your Shot"

 

Creep Street

Streets of darkness, perfect targets
Hoot and holler like a wild man
Call them “hotties”, grab their bodies
Creep Street is in style, man
Get rejected, get defensive
When she tells you to, “Fuck off!”
Alpha male with a baby’s wail
Never ever to be sucked off
Grab her arm, do your harm
Purple circles on her bicep
You entitled little child
You know she doesn’t like it
Throw her down, make her drown
In your disgusting fluids
Traumatize until you realize
You’re nothing but human sewage
Cops do nothing, her brain is numbing
Did you get your hot desires?
So romantic, necromantic
Accuse her of being a liar
Shoot you dead, bullet in your head
That’s what we all should do
There’s no magic in street harassment
Who’s the next victim you choose?
Blond or brunette? Moans or music?
Long legs or ample breasts?
It doesn’t matter, dick gets fatter
She’s face down just like the rest
Creep Street blues, call it fake news
You’ll get away with it this time
But Karma’s a bitch, a scratch to itch
Your life ain’t worth a thin dime

Muse of the Year 2019

***MUSE OF THE YEAR 2019***

Last summer I wrote a blog entry about how every year I have a new muse to inspire my creative work. Why every year? Who knows? This muse is always female and can be a pro-wrestler, actress, singer, or even a fictional character. My one rule for choosing muses is not to use people I know in real life (at least by internet standards). If these people knew I was crushing on them for creativity, I’d probably get sued or slapped with a restraining order. Pretty extreme reaction, but it’s the likeliest of scenarios. Celebrities or fictional characters only. Fictional characters don’t give two shits if you’re crushing on them. And celebrities? Chances are they don’t even know who the fuck I am. You think 2013’s Muse of the Year Ronda Rousey is just randomly perusing my Deviant Art account or blog to see what I think of her? Bullshit, she ain’t going anywhere near my social media. She’s got a lot on her mind, like trying to figure out a way to get a rematch with Becky Lynch after the botched ending to their triple threat match at Wrestlemania.

Last year’s muse was of course Sarah-Jane Redmond, the woman who played Lucy Butler in the 1990’s TV show Millennium. I’m sure Sarah-Jane is a wonderful human being in real life, but her character Lucy haunted my creative daydreams for the whole fucking year in 2018. If not for her, first draft novels like Silent Warrior, Beautiful Monster, and Incelbordination wouldn’t have seen the light of day. Obsessing over seduction will do that to a creative soul. Considering I’m in the process of rewriting Beautiful Monster from the ground up, I’d say Ms. Redmond was a pretty effective muse.

And now that 2018 is in the rear-view mirror, who’s going to be my muse for 2019? Well, this particular woman has been active in burlesque performances since the early 90’s, so that’s a plus. A burlesque dancer being an effective muse? Who would’ve thunk it? In terms of physical appearances and sexual appetite, this woman shares some similarities with Lucy Butler. In terms of alignment, however, they could not be more different. Instead of seducing young men into becoming mediocre versions of themselves, this muse brings the best out of every man she meets. She exudes class, calmness, and positivity. She’s more than a pretty face. She lives her sexy gimmick in her everyday life. She even joked about bathing in her lingerie. She’d totally do that. Without further ado, let me introduce you all to Garrison Kelly’s 2019 Muse of the Year: Dita Von Teese.

For some this is a controversial decision on my part. I accept that. I’ve heard the stories about her relationship with Marilyn Manson. I’ve heard stories about alleged arrogance. I’ve even heard something about her being proud of having her image painted on a drone bomb. I don’t know the intricate details of those stories and quite frankly I’m not going to try and find out. The Dita Von Teese I know and love is calm in the face of sleazy interview questions. She exits her relationships without lusting after her ex’s money or possessions. Just watching her give interviews on You Tube makes me want to up my creative game. Yes, her negative stories could be true, but before I even have the chance to find out, I’m going to enjoy her image for what it is: classic beauty that never goes out of style.

And as long as we’re talking about blog entries from yesteryear, I’m sure most of you remember one I’ve posted about fan fiction group therapy, where fictional characters talk about their feelings while rocking out to heavy metal and eating high calorie foods. Well, I thought it’d be a crazy, yet good idea to have sex therapy as part of this healing process. Whether this fictional character needs a cuddle session, a back massage, or something more, I’m sure it’ll serve a greater purpose beyond me fantasizing about weird shit. Guess who will be the chief sex therapist at Crystal Mountain, as I’ve called the mental health center? You guessed it: Dita Von Teese. Except her character won’t be called that. Her character will named after a little known Pink Floyd song from the early 70’s. No, it’s not Arnold Layne, you dumb shits! It’s Julia Dream! Mmmmmm, Julia Dream. Dreamboat queen. Queen of all my dreams. She’d make an awesome sex therapist.

So what kinds of works could she inspire with her positive and loving aura? What kinds of stories could I write that would exude happiness, lightheartedness, or at the very least psychological recovery? Well, I’m not so sure using Dita Von Teese as inspiration would have been appropriate for this, but Emilio and the Scratching Post is one such positive story. I plan on submitting it to an anthology called Tales of the Siblings Not-So-Grim. That title alone should be enough to clue you in on how lighthearted these stories are. And of course, it doesn’t get more lighthearted than a cuddly old man kitty looking for permanent love.

But until I get that story cleaned up spic and span, there’s no reason why Dita Von Teese can’t be the inspiration for continuing the new version of Beautiful Monster. I can’t picture her being in the same shadow as Shelly Atwood, though. Shelly seduces men (and women) to their own doom, Dita seduces them to greatness. She could be in the same shadow as either Tarja Rikkinen or Llewellyn Xavier. Well, more likely Tarja because Llewellyn is Windham’s sister and it’d be weird if the elf queen tried to seduce her own brother. This ain’t Game of Thrones, motherfucker. It also ain’t Preacher.

I’ve wondered since last year who 2019’s Muse of the Year would be and now I have my answer: a burlesque dancer who’s more than just good looks. She turns beauty and nostalgia into an art form. And yes, she inspires me to do better in my creative work. It’s almost like I’m trying to impress Dita despite the fact that she’ll never find me online. Hmm….Anyways, I’m Garrison Kelly! Even when you feel like dying, keep climbing Crystal Mountain! And while you’re at it, chug some Crystal Mountain Dew and find your serotonin levels!

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“I change my clothes ten times before I take you on a date. I’m in a cold sweat, I panic, and it makes me late. I know you never asked for this. I know my shots will always miss. Does everyone stare this way at you? I only look this way at you. I change my clothes ten times before I take you on a date. I get the heebie-jeebies and my panic makes me late. I break into a cold sweat reaching for the phone. I let it ring twice before I chicken out and decide you’re not at home. Does everyone stare this way at you? I only look this way at you. I never noticed the size of my feet until I kicked you in the shins. Will you ever forgive me for the shape I’m in? Does everyone stare this way at you? I only look this way at you. I want to write you a sonnet, but I don’t know where to start. I’m so used to laughing at the things in my heart. Last of all, I’m sorry, ‘cause you never asked for this. I can see I’m not your type and my shots will always miss. Does everyone stare this way at you? I only look this way at you.”

-The Police singing “Does Everyone Stare?”-

Fan Boy Noob Stalker

CHORUS
Fan boy noob stalker! X4

VERSE 1
I never meant to hurt you the way I did
I was nothing more than a foolish kid
You deserve better than to be creeped out
I don’t blame you for wanting to shout
Flirting isn’t one of my strongest features
Touching is like acid to my delicate fingers
Shyness is protection for both me and you
Look to the future with a picturesque view

CHORUS
Fan boy noob stalker! X4

VERSE 2
For two long years of higher education
I stayed in the shadows of desperation
Just one comment on a woman’s beauty
Could make someone want to sue me
Even when it came to platonic friends
I knew my social life was near its end
I carried my shame even further than that
I sit at home stewing like a caged up rat

CHORUS
Fan boy noob stalker! X4

VERSE 3
The world is a safer place without my zeal
My single status continues to remain real
I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a lonely life
You were all too willing to tell me goodbye
Are you happy now? You got what you wanted
My romantic dreams are nightmarishly haunted
I gave up on romance like I told you before
I gave you security, but it left me feeling sore

HOOK
You don’t owe me anything
But I still have the right to sing
A hard rock song about isolation
In a world known for intimidation

Cheryl Glenn

You’ve probably seen my posts for Devon Spirit Wolf and Constance Cable and are wondering why I have a fascination with female MMA referees. You’re already wondering if Cheryl Glenn will join the club and you’d be right in thinking so. Referees and females have something in common: they don’t get the respect and thanks they deserve for everything they do. If you’re a referee, you get criticized for every disagreeable decision you make. If you’re a woman, well, they’ll just call you things like “bitch” and “whore” while denying you the right to a safe abortion. I’d like to think of myself as someone who favors the underdogs of society.

Cheryl Glenn is somebody who is an underdog in a lot of ways. Aside from being a female MMA referee who only occasionally makes “bad” calls, she’s also in her early 50’s. She’s heard every sexist and ageist comment in the book. Since she actually is a grandmother, the sexist and ageist jokes come naturally for the ignorant masses. Mixed-martial arts is mostly watched by conservative males with a lot of energy and testosterone. If you think someone like Kim Winslow has a hard enough time being a female referee, then you can understand the plight of the fictional Cheryl Glenn as well. “Make me a sandwich, grandma!” Lovely. Just lovely.

But Mrs. Glenn isn’t one to back down from intimidation so easily. Aside from being a martial artist herself of many decades, she’s also been known to take away the ring announcer’s microphone and give the bigoted audience a piece of her mind.

Cheryl first made an appearance in a short story called “Dot Your Eyes”, where she was the referee for a lightweight main event between a gay fighter named Evan Rader and his homophobic opponent Heath Marks. Because Evan is openly gay, the audience thought it was funny to call him Evan Gay-der. Get it? Har-dee-har-har-har. My ribs are sore from forgetting to laugh. When Cheryl had her turn at the microphone, she told the audience if they didn’t stop chanting homophobic slurs, she was going to cancel the fight and declare it a No Contest due to audience distraction. They shut up pretty damn quickly after that.

Although “Dot Your Eyes” will never see the light of day due to its excessive vulgarity, there will be another time when Cheryl Glenn is used. When she has the microphone for another time, she’ll ask the lighting technicians to shine a spotlight on an certain audience member in the front row. She’ll give that audience member a speech similar to the one David Draiman from Disturbed gave at one of his concerts. It goes like this:

“Hi there! You obviously didn’t come here to watch the fights. You’ve been playing fucking videogames on your smart phone since the opening match. I’ll tell you what. Can you do me a favor? Because right now, to be honest, I can appreciate you not being a fan of the UFC. Hell, there are even times when the UFC pisses ME off. But right now, you’re being really disrespectful to the fighters who came here to perform for you. If you’d rather play videogames, then give up your seat to somebody who wants to watch the fights. So this is how this is going to work. If you want to be respectful, you can stay. If not, then security, if you see him take out his cell phone one more time, you have my permission to kick him the fuck out of here!”

It doesn’t matter if you’re a man or a woman, young or old, gay or straight: Cheryl Glenn doesn’t fear you. She may be a grandmother and she may be a woman herself, but she’ll still kick your ass if you cross her. It could be a well-placed kick between the legs. It could be a judo hip toss a la Ronda Rousey. It could be five fingers of death right to your glass jaw. If you’re really curious as to how much of a grumpy grandma Cheryl can be, push her limits. She’ll not only push back, she’ll push your ass over.

　

***POLITICAL QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“War doesn’t determine who is right, only who is left.”

-Bertrand Russell-

"All Lovers Are Deranged" by David Gilmour

In the late 90’s, there were two things I believed to be true: love wasn’t worth fighting for and Pink Floyd was the greatest band in the world. I needed a theme song that combined these two staunch beliefs and that song was “All Lovers Are Deranged” by David Gilmour, the guitarist and co-vocalist for Pink Floyd.

The Pink Floyd fandom was easy for me, especially after they published a song called “Another Brick in the Wall, Pt. 2” (we don’t need no education). I hated going to middle school in the late 90’s, so Pink Floyd earned a lot of brownie points with me.

The part about resisting romantic love was also easy for me back then because I had a father who owed alimony and child support to multiple ex-wives. Okay, so there aren’t many 11 to 13-year-olds who have to pay alimony, but the idea of it happening one day scared me to death.

This was also during a time when I watched the movie Happy Gilmore (no relation to David) and I learned how the IRS punishes people who don’t pay their taxes: by taking their stuff. I was very protective of my property (especially my Legos and videogames), so sharing them with a girl was out of the question.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted by these girls in middle school, though. I took a special liking to women who walked around in shorts and sandals. I didn’t know why at the time, I just liked that about a woman. I would later find out by a special invention called the internet that I had a foot fetish. All questions were answered.

But no matter how many times the girls in my school dressed in shorts and sandals, I turned down every one of them who asked me on a date. Again, I was very protective of my personal things. Add to this the idea of being controlled by someone and the paranoia was even stronger.

I didn’t learn how to fall in love until I turned 15 years old. I went away for a summer retreat in Bellingham and they held dances. I showed up looking for something to drink and from out of nowhere, this pretty girl comes up to me and asks for a dance to a slow song. Also from out of nowhere, I said yes to her. I enjoyed being close with this woman in an intimate way even if it was only for a few minutes. If I can get a little graphic for a moment, there was even a time where…you know…it moved. Ahem!

So now that I know how to fall in love with women, I also know how much it hurts when I know I can’t have the one I fall in love with. I had so many crushes in high school and college that I wanted to duplicate that intimate feeling with. At the time, I thought rejection hurt worse than never trying. I still believe that to this day.

That’s why I consider myself lucky that I was able to have a relationship with a woman named Brianna and feel good about having it. We held hands, hugged, and I even got my first kiss from her. Yes, it took me a long time to get my first kiss, but I got it, by god. That milestone felt good. What didn’t feel good was never seeing her again after an awkward date in which she got in a political argument with my liberal mother. Still, given the awkwardness, I enjoyed every minute I got to be with Brianna even if it was only for a few months.

It’s not the late 90’s anymore and I still have David Gilmour’s music burned to my computer. Are all lovers deranged? It takes a certain craziness to think that love conquers all. Then again, who ever said I was sane? I’m the same guy who believes Mickey Mouse Clubhouse is a cute show and the real world is faker than professional wrestling. Would I do it all again in a heartbeat? Absolutely. Broken hearts can be mended, but lonely ones can’t.

　

***WRESTLING QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“Marriage is a lot like a deck of cards: in the beginning, all you need is two hearts and two diamonds, but in the end, you wish you had a club or a spade.”

-Jerry “The King” Lawler-

The Krause Sisters (Bailey and Devon)

Sexism has always been an ugly part of today’s world whether it’s women being stoned to death in the Middle East or the existence of rape insurance here in America. The men who perpetuate this kind of hatred and bigotry need a swift kick in the testicles. That’s where The Krause Sisters come into play. As of today, I have no idea how these two young women will be used in one of my stories, but rest assured they won’t be the ones who need health insurance at the end of an encounter. In order to survive a battle with these two lethal ladies, you can’t just be a good fighter. You can’t even have an army by your side. You have to be part of an army of motherfucking assassins and murderers. Actually, that might not help you either, you’d still get your ass kicked. They know every martial art in the book, they’ve used every weapon ever invented, and they’re so hot that men wouldn’t be able to concentrate long enough to finish a fight with them. I know, I know, these two women sound like Mary-Sues already. They’re so perfect that nobody can stop them and everybody around them is going to die. If I absolutely have to make these women sound indestructible, it’ll be in legend only. The Sisters Brothers were said to have been the most lethal pair in all of western fiction, but they got their comeuppance by the story’s end. Perhaps the same fate could take over The Krause Sisters. Maybe in some way, Bailey and Devon could be separated from each other. We know they kick ass together, let’s see how they do on their own. Let’s see how they do against a 30-foot tall giant. Or the devil himself. Or god himself. Or maybe all three of these beings at once. Surely, there has to be some kind of limit when using The Krause Sisters. The limit may not be readily available at the very beginning of the story, but it’ll be there eventually. Maybe Bailey will get killed and Devon will have the face the world alone without a sister, or vice versa. The possibilities are as endless as the writer’s imagination. If you need a way to derail the momentum of two badass sisters, you’ll find one. Consider this a lesson in keeping your characters from becoming too perfect. I don’t care how many bombs Bailey and Devon drop or how many people they kill: if they’re too perfect, the story will be extremely boring and predictable. I won’t do that to my own characters. Bailey and Devon are in good hands, and no, those hands aren’t being used to fondle their bodies. For your information, I like my own body exactly the way it is: all in one piece.

　

***FACE BOOK MEME OF THE DAY***

Porn gives young people an unrealistic idea of how quickly a plumber will come to your house.