That’s Miss Tinkertrain to you

Sorry for leaving you all high and dry for the last few days because I know just as well as you do that you need your daily dose of Reverend Doctor Cyndi almost as much as she needs her daily dose of Jaegermeister because it doubles as cough medicine and doesn’t taste much better…that, and it helps her get to that special place of understanding that makes dealing with all of you and your drama a lot more easy to swallow, not unlike Jaegermeister which of course is best when mixed with a shot of Whiplash, which is kind of like Red Bull but tastes a little better because Red Bull has a unique taste, and I think that taste is derived from a red bull’s ass. On the other hand, Whiplash is way cheaper because it can be shot from a gun and is, apparently, only available at the home bar of which I was at on Saturday night and had a wonderful time as always enjoying three dollar bombs.

I’m sure I can go on and on about the virtue of three dollar bombs at Chaoz, and I probably will at some point in the future, but that time is not now, so I digress.

As for this post, we will be talking once again about Ozzy and how he relates to all of our everyday lives…either that or how Ozzy relates in no way to our daily lives. I’m sure the answer to that deep question is somewhere between the two, so now you know and have been forewarned that this just might be yet another time when Reverend Doctor Cyndi goes off on one of her nonsensical trips that leave us all confused about how Ozzy got dragged into this one, yet again.

Today’s story begins pretty much where we left off last time and if you don’t remember when that was, you’re not alone because neither do I, so let’s just skip past a week ago Friday because I had a bad day then when Wells Fucking Fargo put a hold on my paycheck that I deposited the week before, resulting in me having to take time out of my busy day to try and get their mess straightened out, of which nobody (and by nobody, I mean Tanisha at the call center, the girl who spoke English as a second language, and the other one who I’m not going to pick on because I think she was retarded…or maybe just looked like it) had a straight answer for anything except what the computer was telling them and they aren’t permitted to think for themselves because not only is it policy, but also because that would require thought that was more than their little brains could handle.

Anyway, I’d love to spend more time discussing the retards who work at the bank but that’s just a sign of the times and essentially was so last week and Wells fucking Fargo finally made things right after they took their sweet ass time correcting this problem of mine which really wasn’t mine because it was actually a problem of Bob’s or more importantly Bob’s problem because somebody else wrote him a bad check which caused him to be overdrawn and therefore his bank wouldn’t honor the check and I still have no idea what the FDIC actually does because aren’t they some kind of insurance company that’s tied into the not-at-all-Federal Reserve?

All of these questions led to a very in depth study into how the banking system in this country works and after a few hours of google searches, I was able to conclude the the banking system simply doesn’t work at all because it is way too big and as we all know, the bigger it is, the harder it falls, but somehow there are a shitload of bureaucrats out there that are worried about keeping their jobs so they can provide for their retarded children and their wives who are social climbers and are cheating on them because there is always somebody else who is doing better in life than the loser husband that they have and maybe she’ll actually find that guy but in the meantime she is content with cheating on you with a guy who makes a few dollars more and then she gets knocked up and tells you that she’s pregnant and you’re left wondering how the hell this happened because she and I haven’t had sex in six years, but then before you know it, it’s 9 months later and the baby is born and you now have to spend your time explaining to others how much you love your baby and how it’s totally yours even though the baby looks kind of Asian and neither you or your wife are.
Trust me, it happens all the time.

Of course you can always tell people that you adopted your baby from Korea and people will probably believe you because they now think you’re a great person because you are giving some poor down-trodden Korean orphan a better life in America and you’re like some kind of super parent who deserves the highest of accolades because you have chosen to expand your family because there’s always more love to go around and you can positively impact the life of that child by removing him from those nasty Koreans who we conquered way back in 1953, supposedly, but that was just a ruse to take their babies and make them build us Hyundais which used to be real shit and sold solely on the virtue of their warrantees but now are actually pretty dependable cars that people who are bad drivers buy because they’re too cheap to pony up the extra money for a Corolla, in which at least you’d now have a little bit of status because you bought a Toyota which is of course the American Dream.

If y’all haven’t figured it out by now, owning Japanese products is the American Dream and I used to know several rednecks in the Deep South that would agree because that was the entire reason for that whole ” War of Northern Aggression” thing in which some people are still bitter about because those few years completely destroyed the dream of really, really cheap labor and that whole flag thing is more about heritage than it ever was about hating people just because they look different but nobody seems to see it that way anymore because all of those southern people that I know now wouldn’t be caught dead driving a car from GM or Ford because those cars have poor quality because they are made by workers who belong to the Union and that just sounds, well, bad, to the southerners because the Union screwed them 150 years ago which is why they don’t kowtow to the unions down there anymore and have thrown the General Motors out in favor of working for General Kai-shek who is actually Chinese and not Korean but is of little consequence because the Chinese look similar to the Koreans and they pretty much own one of the Koreas, so that whole war thing was kind of in vain because it was really just a conflict and I can see why uncle Gord was pretty pissed off about it…it’s like saying he killed those zipperheads for nothing…did he?

I don’t think that he did and will contend that the whole Korean Conflict should probably be forgotten because if we fuggetaboutit then we can rewrite history and nobody wants to spend any time remembering the Forgotten War of which it is now, because most of those guys are now dead, like uncle Gord, who was deeply scarred from his experience and consequently died many years ago and went out holding his cock, which I was unlucky enough to witness, almost to say screw all of you, including but not limited to the only family he had left, leaving his small fortune to Catholic Charities which is one of the most evil organizations in the whole world although it’s disguised as a good thing because one of the ways they make a lot of money is by redistributing babies to people who have enough money to pay them.

Is anybody else seeing how wrong this is, right about now? Kind of like that new kid that showed up, and you have to now support, so you don’t look like a complete asshole because you married a woman who is a whore who got knocked up by someone else because you’re just a meal ticket with an inadequate penis that shoots blanks. I hope you’re happy driving your Hyundai but please get out of my way…signed, the minivan behind you…yeah, you see me, move it. The speed limit says 55 but we all know that it’s really 80.

In conclusion, what goes around, comes around and it’s called karma, so try and be a good person although it’ll probably not get you any bonus points with my colleagues without faces…that’s what they’ve told me.

Right about now, your probably asking what Ozzy has to do with this and again, the answer is: ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!

You just spent more time wanting to know about Ozzy and I wasted a few more minutes of yours because I know you have superfluous time on your hands and that is the crux of my work here on earth.

I promise that the next entry to this misadventure will have something to do with Ozzy. There are eleven songs on the NO MORE TEARS album, and by my count, we’ve covered four or them. If we subscribe to common core, there might be 7 more coming and maybe even more if my day job sends me back up to Rockturd and the HPB outlet has another album I can buy for two bucks. You have been forewarned!!!

With Love,
Reverend Doctor Cyndi