The Massachusetts Main Street Fairness Coalition for Illiterate Slobs

Come November, if you live in Massachusetts, you can thank, in part, Mayor Kim Driscoll (above), of Salem, MA, and her sleazy cronies at Massachusetts Main Street Fairness Coalition for the sales tax you will have to pay on goods you buy on Amazon.com.

From the Massachusetts Main Street Fairness Coalition’s website:

“Common sense would dictate that if a Massachusetts resident buys a product online, they would pay the same sales tax as anyone that had gone to the store in person.”

Common sense dictates that illiterate assholes tend to have their heads up their asses. In their sentence above, “resident” is a singular noun. “[T]hey” is a plural pronoun. Nominals must agree in English. This is an agreement error. In addition, the modal verb “would” is inappropriate here. What they mean is “Common sense dictates.” Also, the pronoun “that” is incorrect. It should be “who.” Beyond the grammatical problems, the sentence is a convoluted piece of shit. These illiterate slobs were successful at pressuring Governor Deval Patrick, whom I voted for, to cave to their special interests.

If I drive to Florida from Massachusetts and buy a hat, should the merchant in Florida whom I bought the hat from be required to collect Massachusetts’ sales tax on this hat? Of course not. Why should it be any different if I bought the hat from this merchant in Florida online? This argument that it is unfair is an argument made by slimy, illiterate, capitalist swine merchants and their political whores.

The sales tax is a regressive tax. Massachusetts should eliminate this tax altogether and adopt a graduated income tax. This would be a fair tax, because it would mean that people who earn more than average, like Mayor Kim Driscoll, pay more in taxes. Mayor Kim Driscoll needs to pay her fair share in taxes, instead of displacing the tax burden onto consumers. It is not fair that people who have barely any disposable income pay a disproportionate amount of their income on taxes.

Copy of original article from Massachusetts Main Street Fairness Coalition’s website.

Original URL: http://www.massmainstreet.com/About-The-Issue

This material was not copyrighted.

They have no idea

Middle-aged women on OkayCupid write to me. Many of them are good looking, and I could seriously screw them. I don't think that they understand just how low on the food chain I am. I try to make this clear in my profile, though I don't overtly say this. These women probably have no clue that I spend my days thinking about how to kill myself. I'm not going to do this now. But I need an exit strategy. I will not beg. That's not going to happen. Killing oneself can be confounding. I often read about people, often women, successfully killing themselves through hanging. I don't know how people can do this. These people have gonads that I don't have. The horror of dangling by the neck and suffocating … this is just too horrible and depressing for me … I can't do this. Also, it so demeaning to be found, hanged. It would be a while before anyone finds my body. I would stink. My corpse would be hideous. There would probably be flies and maggots eating away at my rotting corpse. It would be disgusting. Asshole police would probably laugh at me. I don't want the slimy, cocksucker police laughing at me. I've faced humiliation my whole life; I don't want to be scraped out of my apartment like rotten, human garbage. Good Christ, there's got to be a better way.

My big bank robbery front row seat update

They caught two of the bank robbers who were responsible for the hold-up that I witnessed yesterday. Maybe the guy in front of me was not an accomplice. Maybe he was also a witness. These have to be the stupidest criminals on earth. I wish I could have told them that there is much more money robbing people at CELTA centers, and you will never go to prison.

“All of it, all of it.”

I was struck by how beautiful yet pale the teller was in the bank inside the supermarket today. She looked like how people used to look in paintings done long ago: Pale as shit. Something else was unusual today. There was a line. There was never a line. The guy in front of me kept looking back at me. What the fuck is this asshole looking at, I said to myself. I didn’t realize at the time that he was almost surely an accomplice in a bank holdup that was in progress.

Why was the guy in the front of the guy who was giving me a weird look holding up a note to the teller? Perhaps it was his account number. I kept trying to read the teller’s face. I did not read alarm or shock. She couldn’t be being robbed, because then she would be showing more affect. The guy behind me turned around again, and I thought, perhaps he was not looking at me suspiciously, perhaps he was looking at everyone suspiciously.

The teller handed the man holding the note to her some cash.

“All of it,” he said. “All of it.” He did not sound nervous or angry, just determined.

Then the teller handed the man a big wad of cash. I did not see her count the cash. Still, no affect from the teller. Finally, I said to myself, fuck trying to read the teller by her expression. It may be business as usual to the teller, but I am sure that I am standing right behind two guys holding up a bank, and this situation is a little dangerous. It was time for me to bug the fuck out.

I started walking. As I approached the exit I saw a bagger. She had a strange look on her face. She wasn’t yet sure what was going on, but she at least suspected that there might be a bank robbery in progress. I thought about waving to the teller, to signify to her that this was definitely a hold-up. What am I crazy, I said to myself. Are you trying to get yourself or her killed? Get your ass moving out that door and get the fuck out!

In the car I said to myself, shouldn’t I call the police? It was too difficult. I had a Florida cell phone. 911 would give me the Florida State Police, not Massachusetts. There are going to be armed men with a lot of money running out of this supermarket very soon. There may be armed men from inside of the supermarket chasing after them as well. Get your ass out of this parking lot. Now!

I drove towards my physical therapy appointment. Two minutes later I saw police cars with sirens blaring, driving towards the supermarket. They were way too late. The bank robbers had probably left the bank a long time ago. I laughed. I don’t approve of threatening bank tellers with violence, but I was sort of happy for the bank robbers. There are far worse crimes. IH Budapest had robbed me of thousands of dollars, as well as my livelihood, and took three months of my life away from me to give me verbal abuse, as well as shitty instruction that lacked documentation. They did not need a gun, for they had that great pillar of Western Civilization, Cambridge University to validate their crimes. The system had robbed me my whole life. Why had I felt so compelled to inform on these bank robbers? What the fuck was wrong with me?

I don’t have much to say anymore…

Sometimes I think about Hungary and I cry. I mourn for Hungary and feel sorry for myself. All I have now is crushed dreams and memories of this fairy-tale land. The photo below is of a church in Sopron. If you look closely you can see that the door to the church was open. I wanted to walk in, but I was running out of light and afraid that it I would not be able to find my way back. I did however look at the cemetery in back of the church. It was so beautiful that it moved me to tears.

 

A different church nearby.

Not only the churches, but the houses in this medieval neighborhood had these little embedded statues in them, and I loved the hell out them.

The Sopron Tower. This is the logo of Sopron beer.

 

Hotel Palitunus, where I stayed. Only the hotels at Foxwoods rival this hotel in cleanliness. It was only about $50 USD in September. Excellent breakfast, with lots of sausage and other meats. Friendly staff. It doesn’t get much better than Hotel Palitunus. This street used to be called “Jew Street.” It was part of the Jewish ghetto during the middle ages.

As you can see from the map, I was not far from Vienna. It doesn’t bother me that much that I never got a chance to see Vienna. Fuck Vienna. I saw Sopron!

This year’s Mean Fucky award goes to…

…user name Lalya, from OkayCupid

“I will respond back only to those who seem like a possible match. No players please. Losers, paupers, uneducated, boors, whiners , stingy, having problems with alcohol and drugs in the past and now - need not apply. And, please, no drama or heavy baggage .”

I assure you that I have never, ever written Lalya. I am too loserish and pauperish for this woman, and she is too demonish for me.

International House Budapest: Your international home of bad attitude and bad English

I took the CELTA at International House Budapest last year. IH Budapest uses the building (shown above) to teach many of its CELTA classes. I endured three months in a claustrophobic, windowless room in the back of this prison-like building.

IH Budapest teaches people how to teach English, yet the teacher teachers are illiterate. I’m just going to become angrier and end up murdering someone if I keep thinking about this nightmarish experience. Let me just say that they treated me like shit, robbed me, fucked me, and failed me. I’ve devoted this site to the CELTA racket: 

https://sites.google.com/site/celtaexposed/

Find me a nice bridge in Hungary

Sopron, Hungary (below), a beautiful medieval town at the western edge of the Hungarian universe. If I could find a nice Hungarian town like this with a nice high bridge and a river, I could burn my passport, jump off the bridge, and nobody would know who the hell I was. They’d probably cremate my remains. Hopefully they’d bury my ashes in Hungary. Good fuck I wouldn’t want to be buried in the U.S.

I don’t want to jump into the Danube. I don’t want my body floating around with all those people to see. I’d rather that my body not be found. Suicide is humiliating. I want to discretely pass into infinity.

I’ve never been to Szeged. It has a river, maybe a nice bridge to jump off of.

I’m really tired of this blog and my asshole life. Maybe I’ll get bored later and write more.

My Pécs adventure

Hi AM,

I loved the hell out of Pécs! It was so beautiful. It was like a fairy tale. I could send you photos that I took of Pécs if you are interested. I stayed at a wonderful hotel too. It was only 35 USD, yet it was the best hotel I’ve ever stayed at. It was old, like Pécs.

I had trouble getting back. I saw a museum in the afternoon, then headed back to the train station. There was a huge rainstorm. I got soaked. I decided to go to the Burger King in the mall they have there, in order to dry out wait out the rain. This mall is very big, as big as Mammut. At about 14:15 I headed out to catch the 15:15 train back to Budapest. I used my GPS to find my way back. The damn thing led me to the middle of nowhere. I finally managed to find the train station, but I had missed the train. When I went in and looked at the video train schedule, which differed from the electronic ones they use at Budapest-Déli station, I became horribly confused because the departure times seemed to differ from that of the train schedule I had seen online. The ticket person didn’t speak English very well. I think she was expressing departure times using a 12 hour clock, probably to make it easier for me, because that is what Americans are used to, yet this just made things more confusing to me, as the train schedule used a 24 hour clock. I decided to go back to Burger King, as they have wifi there, which would allow me to recheck the train schedule. By the time I got back to the station it was 16:45. I looked at the train station schedule again on the video monitor. I finally realized that some of the cryptic groups of letters, like IND, were really abbreviations of Hungarian words, such as indul, and that departure and arrival times were posted on the exact same video monitor. This is what had really confused me. I was very wet and tired and hungry and disoriented at this point. I was willing to take any train that got me back to Budapest, no matter how long it took. The ticket person kept telling me departure times using a 12 hour clock. I was too tired and disoriented to convert the 12 hour clock into a 24 hour clock. I didn’t care. I just bought the ticket. Get me on the train. Any train. I stood confused on the platform. I tried to ask a few people who worked there for help, but they didn’t speak much English. A very nice fellow passenger, who didn’t speak a word of English, but who was also headed for Budapest-Déli helped me. I was able to understand a little of what he was saying to me, as I know a teeny bit of Hungarian. I understood enough. Some Americans say that Hungarians are not nice people. They don’t understand Hungarians. Hungarians are not chatty, but they are very nice! They are always there to help you in a pinch.

I got into Déli station around 22:00. It only took me 10 hours to get back! I don’t regret going. I had one of the greatest times of my life in Pécs.

Oh, and I also tried kürtős kalács for the first time in Pécs. Thank you for telling me about this. It was an outdoor kürtős kalács stand. Two for 600 HUF. It was very sweet, maybe a little too sweet, but it was good. All Hungarian confections and breads are good. I was in the castle district last night. There was an outdoor stand which sold kürtős kalács, among other Hungarian breads. She wanted 700 HUF for one. I felt as if she was trying to take advantage of naive tourists who do not know what reasonable prices for kürtős kalács are. I didn’t buy it.

Good luck with your new job! I am happy for you!

Hotel Patria in Pécs, Hungary

Recently I had the time of my life staying at Hotel Patria in Pécs, Hungary. It was incredibly cheap at about $37.00 USD, all taxes and fees included.

If you prefer a hotel key that is a card with a magnetic strip to a keychain which has your room number engraved into a nice fat and heavy piece of brass, then you probably won’t like this hotel.

 

The hotel room was cozy and the bed was comfy. It had refrigerator and a balcony!

If you were expecting a crap American style complimentary breakfast, you are in for a shock! They have all types of meats, including sausage and Hungarian salami, scrambled as well as sunny side eggs that are properly heated and not rubbery, good Hungarian bread and confections, and plenty of juice. I believe they had fruit and cereal too, but I didn’t have any of that. The service at this hotel was beyond great.The staff spoke English very well. This hotel and this city are heaven come down to earth. The only thing that really bugged me about this hotel was that there was no extension outlet near the desk to plug my portable into. I had to unplug the night lamp in order to free up an outlet, which made things a little difficult. It was a small price to pay for this old-world style hotel in the heart of the most beautiful city in Hungary. It is only about a ten minute walk from the train station to the hotel.

Gellért Hill, Budapest

Top of the world, Ma! I shot a number of photos from this spot. A mob of Russians swarmed around me. Their sheer numbers compelled me to leave. The bastard Russians occupied Hungary for 45 years, and they still can’t get their stinkin’ paws off her.

 

This is the Hungarian Statue of Liberty. It can be seen for miles and is especially cool when lit up at night. It kicks the the American Statue of Liberty’s ass!

 

Statue of mother breastfeeding her child. You’re not going to see a public statue like this in the U.S., because  we’re too fucking uptight.

The rock church at the bottom of the hill. Inside was so peaceful and so beautiful, though not ornate. It was one of the most moving experiences I’ve ever had. Cost:500 HUF. Bargain of the century!

Going home on the good ol’ 18 tram. The liberty bridge in the background is lit up green.

Bar 24

This is in Budapest-Déli station. This bar is apparently open 24 hours a day. I thought about buying a beer just for the experience, but it looked, from the window, to be a shitty bar and decided not to.

I did buy a falafel and cherry coke in the station. 750 HUF. Falafel not great, but not terrible. Liked the Arabic music playing and the atmosphere.

 

I’m back home, finally

It took me a full week to finally see the Castle District again. It was just at the end of sunset. There were hardly any people. There are a sea of tourists here in the daytime, but never at night. They perhaps don’t know how beautiful Budapest looks at night from up high. I recognized the same alley cat that lives near the Castle that I would see last year. He or she does not like to venture out when there are a lot of people. I was happy to see a familiar face. I looked at Buda and the Danube and the beautifully illuminated bridges and I felt that same feeling that I had forgotten, that Budapest was the center of the universe, and that I had found home.

Budapest has become a little crazier. There’s a lot more homelessness. One would hardly ever see homelessness or beggars on the Buda side before. Apparently, the bathroom business is booming. Hungary is still Hungary though. It hasn’t lost its character. I don’t feel haunted by this place anymore. I have been unable to get out because my knees are fucked up and I can’t walk without pain, but I am at home, and I don’t care.

Live corpse serving dead cow

(Toilet use. 150 HUF, about 70 cents. This is the going rate to piss or shit in Budapest.)

What in God’s name am I doing in a country that charges one money to take a piss, even in a train station? I love Hungary, but there are some things about it that I really, really hate. This morning I almost got hit by a fucking bicycle rider. It was the narrowest miss yet.They ride on the sidewalk in this country. They don’t ride slowly and carefully.They race down the sidewalk in a blur of metal and rubber and helmet and sweat.The universe is just itching for the opportunity to break my bones, tear my flesh, and cause me to use my life savings to pay the hospital bill. The universe has my number. It’s just a question of whether the universe has enough time to execute its plan to crash 250 pounds of bicycle and person into me before I leave Hungary.

What in God’s name am doing back here? There’s nothing here for me but haunting memories of crushed dreams, subversion, and humiliation. I just had to go back to the scene of the crime. Why couldn’t I just leave it alone? This is where my future ended. I died here last year. The corpse that was I could talk and eat and breathe, but it was quite dead and still is.

I want to stop hemorrhaging money and depressing myself. I want to return to the heaping mound of shit that is the United States. I have a promising future at McDonald’s waiting for me.

Margit-sziget, Budapest

This is an island in the middle of the Danube in Budapest. It’s sort of like Central Park in NYC.

 

The 18 tram and the most hideous bridge in Budapest

I hopped on the 18 tram from Széll Kálmán Square not knowing where it the would take me. I was really excited, but started getting less excited as some big guy on the tram started to give me a weird look as I passed by miles and miles of depressing, Soviet style apartment complexes. Good crap, when does this tram end? I hope I don’t get mugged by someone who thinks that because I wear Ray Ban sunglasses, I must have money. The last stop on the tram was a dumpy mall called Savoya Park that had a big store in it that looked like a Walmart. I didn’t venture into the store, because Hungarians often get weird about your backpack and want you to check it in, and I just didn’t want to deal with that hassle.

 

On my way back I hopped off the tram to take photos of and from the most hideous bridge in Budapest, the Liberty Bridge. I think it’s the pukey color that makes this bridge so awful, not the bridge itself. Mad men and women bicycle riders whizzed by me in a blur as I did so and scared the living shit out of me.

Gellért Hill is above.

 

This is my favorite bridge in Budapest, the Elisabeth, as seen from the Liberty.

  n