The Baked Cat

This site has been up for a minute, yet what do you know about me? I would guess your list includes:

1: Crazy

2: Racist

3: Demented

4: Potential Psychopath

All of the above are true to an extent. However, I wouldn’t consider myself racist. I don’t see skin color, I see statistics, but foremost I see people. If clues are given that a person fits into “statistics”, I shape my interactions differently, because I can relate to them. I was “statistics” at one time. Incarceration holds us all equally under the law.

So who is this crazy fuck? Well, I am, just me. You can say I’m a product of the system, you can say I was a troubled kid who grew up with a life of hard knocks. Either way you can see the conditioning I had in my life, and what I have had to break free from. It’s not always easy. To anyone out there still struggling. Keep your chin up. Don’t let anything get you all the way down. There is a way out, you will find it. Just remember the old saying: “Rock bottom was the solid foundation I built my life upon”.

I grew up in a rural area, very small class of students. Good grades, piss poor attendance. Everyone had their own little cliques, I kind of had a spot in a lot of them. Rebellious, very much so, towards authority. When forced to attend church as a kid, while singing in front of the Congregation, I was shoving kids in front of me while singing. My parents held their heads down in shame. At school, I was shooting BB’s with rubber bands, spit-wads, paperclips, or any other form of ammunition I could find or manufacture. I was expelled from Military School, and had 5 felonies as a juvenile. As an adult a 1st degree assault charge that landed me a 2 year bid (after pleading down to attempted) in Max custody with the State DOC.

That’s where I grew up. There was a lack of respect, I learned real quick behind the walls. I never had a problem, never once was there anything sexual, other than me jerking off to Penthouse, Fox, and Hustler with blinds up on the cell door windows. It was like college. You minded your own business, you had no problems. You stand up for yourself, you had no problems. You come in on strictly a violent charge (I have never harmed a woman or child.), you got a little respect out the gate. You earned respect, and that respect stayed with you. Unless you where like some and lost it. You leave those gates behind. Everything changes.

In the real world, once again, I had a lot of troubles adjusting. There is no respect in the real world like there is behind the wall. If life out in the free World was like prison, people would be getting their ass beat on a round-the-clock schedule until respect was learned. I turned to drinking, and drugs to help the change in structure. I forgot what freedom was like. Plus two years of life gone by. Drugs and alcohol helped me be social, when otherwise I wanted to be left alone. They introduced me to new people and opportunities, which otherwise would of been hidden. It was a constant blur, but still in my head I was doing time. (Still feels that way now on occasion, waiting for the Grim Reaper.) Though eventually, it started burning bridges, losing trust, lost relationships.

When I started to get clean, I quit drinking first. There is still a few drugs I use as tools at times. Though not the piss poor trash that’s slung in your neighborhoods. Even drugs have ceased. I just smoke a fucking lot of weed. Weed in a way saved my life, with the help of a gym membership. I know how that sounds. “Stoners don’t go to the gym! Hur! Dur!” Bullshit. This one does. Weed gives me a perspective on my own actions and interactions. I would and still do analyze things to a “T”. If I notice I was out of line, if needed be, I apologize, or at least make things right. When I’m driven to the boiling point, I have the two friends ready. One to elevate my mood, the other to release my frustration. Do I give a fuck if my body looks perfect? No. I lift for strength. I lift for peace. I smoke for clarity. I smoke for peace. Fuck self help books. You can help yourself. Get your ass off the couch and go exercise.

So what’s life like now? Well I have a load of fun with my website, which is one of the best hobbies I have ever found. I work a shit tier job, make shit tier money, but you know what? It’s not about the money. It’s about being happy. When YOU are happy, others around you are happy. When something good happens to you, pass it on to another. You find out just how contagious it really is. I’m still a crazy fucker, no woman yet can handle my insanity. Hopefully the right one comes along. I’d like to create a whole den of little assholes, send them out into the World, ready and wise. I still tell people “Go Fuck Yourself!” If someone nearly hits me in a car. Still get rowdy at times. I still intentionally do things, just for the rise I get out of people. I just have chilled the fuck out. I have never stopped educating myself. (Piss poor education, leads to piss poor performance.)  You can learn anything you want to if you apply yourself.

Sometimes I hop jobs for the challenge or the change. If I’m not getting where it feels I need to be going, I adjust and re-route. I cut as many chains as possible, so I can be as free as possible. Freedom is a beautiful thing, please excuse me when I feel the need to take a shit on those who aim to defile such beauty. Love me or hate me. I don’t give a fuck. I still love you, because even if you’re an asshole like me, you are who you are, and no one can take that away from you.

TLDR:  Who am I?  I’m just me.

The Baked Cat