FUCK EVERYONE AND DO IT MY WAY.

fucking.  sucking.  jerking off.  masturbating.  blowing.  ramming.  touching.  pinching.  jamming.  fingering.  waving.  crying.  making love.  caressing.  blowing once again.
Jack Tait’s life had changed over the years but his sexual habits remained the same.  old age not quite dulling the big cocked one nutted naked lonely man the way age had dulled most parents.  most peasants.  most managers of stores and managers of hotels.  even Presidents and Prime Ministers fucked less than Jack and they were leaders in the new world.  fake leaders in a fake world.
Jack Tait sat back and observed.  laughed.  cried.  shit.  then laughed again.  drank a bottle of Rye and then downed it with beer.  micro-brewery beer not piss disguised as beer.  piss that poor peasants drank as they watched shitty shows and mowed their lawns weekly…right after washing their car.
a load of fucking losers barely waltzing through life while barely owning homes and barely owning cars.  losers who prayed to a false god and went to church right after taking a smelly shit and ironing their own semi dressed up outfit that had been in their shitty closet for twenty-five years.  an outfit that deserved to be in a remote landfill in the middle of Kapuskasing but was laid out beautifully on the bedspread filled with angels and butterflies.  losers who went through life barely hanging on but barely having an opinion of their own and barely fucking a single man.  a single woman.  a dull useless life.  sad.  pathetic.  gross.  slobbery combined with dull opinions always leading to psychiatrists and pills taken daily to dull the mind and dull the eyes.  dulling them down so the peasants could not see how fucking irrelevant they truly were.
Jack Tait opened the front door of his remote farmhouse in the middle of nowhere and took a big deep breath in.  he smelled the crisp clean air.  he looked to the sky and saw sun.  he also saw a cloud.  he jumped on his blue tricycle and rode down the long narrow driveway and when the driveway ended he turned right.  he was naked.  his one sagging ball sagging down further than usual.
“I must be fighting a cold.  My ball always hangs lower when I am fighting a cold.”
Jack Tait rode down the long winding road and rode slowly.  no longer was he in a hurry.  a quieter more peaceful life seemed to be the answer for Jack the way chaos and fucking and sucking and drinking was once the answer.  Jack Tait hated people.  But Jack Tait also loved people.  a constant walking contradiction but a man who lived life.  unlike the peasants of society who didn’t live life.
“CHURCH IS DULL.  GAMES OF THRONES IS DULL.  WALKING DEAD IS DULL.  ORANGE IS THE NEW BLACK IS DULL.  MURDOCH MYSTERIES IS SUPER DULL.  CANADIANS ARE DULL.  AMERICANS ARE DULL.  SUPER HEROES ARE DULL.  SUPER HERO MOVIES ARE EVEN DULLER.  MANAGERS ARE DULL.  TEACHERS ARE DULL.  PRESIDENTS ARE DULL.  PRIME MINISTERS ARE DULL.  SECRETARIES ARE DULL.  IF THEY FUCKED ME THEN THEY ARE ONLY SEMI DULL.  COACHES ARE DULL.  SOME COACHES ARE DUMB.  SPORTS PARENTS ARE DULL.  SPORTS IS DULL.  MOVIES ARE SHIT.  MOVIES ARE DULL.  MUSIC IS SHIT.  MUSIC IS DULL…”
On and on it went for Jack Tait.  he was too unique and too interesting for such a dull society filled with dull rules and dull people.  he rode his tricycle around the country looking for fuck ups and misfits but there were none to be found.  all were locked up in penitentiaries and mental asylum’s.  real artists were dead.  fake artists were fucking duller than a fucking game of fucking Monopoly with a fucking teacher of banking.  dull shitty suits and dull shitty coffee filled the dull shitty air in the dull shitty town.
Jack Tait rode and rode but could no longer breathe.  he pulled over to the side of the road and puked.  one too many bottles of Rye sometimes coming back to haunt poor old Jack Tait.  the beer he could handle.  the Rye sometimes not.  BUT HE DRANK AND HE FUCKED AND HE SWORE AND HE FOUGHT AND HE JERKED OFF AND HE DID DRUGS AND HE ONCE SHIT ON HIS FRIENDS CARPET AND HE ONCE YELLED AT HIS MOM AND HE ONCE YELLED AT HIS DAUGHTER AND HE ONCE YELLED AT HIS WIFE AND HE HAS SEEN MANY FRIENDS DIE AND HE HAS SEEN HIS DAD DIE AND HIS NANA DIE AND HIS OTHER NANA DIE AND HE HAS WITNESSED HIS DAUGHTER BEING BORN AND HE HAS BEEN SICK AND HE HAS SEEN HIS MOM SICK.
Jack Tait wondered what happened to his youth.
Jack Tait also wondered if old people think about dying.  he wondered if they begin to count down the days.  the nights.  do they fear death?  do they look at old pictures and wish they had done more.  fucked more.  loved more.  travelled more.  do they wonder how quickly life went by.  twenty becoming sixty very quickly.  even with all the aches and pains do they still want to fuck?  does it become torturous as you age?  wanting to fuck but body not able to fuck.
life can be very dull.
lonely.
sad.
“FUCK EVERYONE AND DO IT MY WAY.”