J.D. Bradley
Bio
I've had a very different kind of experience.
Stories (33/0)
12 Steps
Sometimes it occurs to me that in our materialistic, psychopathic society that we need a twelve-step group for the compassionate: "Hi. My name is Jason and I care about people." "Hi Jason" the droning answer of the oppressed who frequent this self "help" group that answer me back. As if something is wrong with us when there is nothing wrong with us at all. We are what should be.
By J.D. Bradley2 years ago in Poets
Loss
I've lost people that I have cared about to insanity, frequently chemically induced, in such a way that they never came back. I've lost a few people due to bad luck and prison and shit. I've lost way more people to death, people I really, sincerely cared about.
By J.D. Bradley2 years ago in Poets
In Case You Didn't Know
The big world dominating banks lend almost all of the nations of the world their currency, plus interest, which they created out of thin air. Hence, there is much more debt in the world, than currency to pay for it. Life is hard because of the parasites that make us experience pain so that they may live like gods. We all suffer. My people are the human beings, and that includes everyone who is not involved in holding us down. The countries that don’t utilize their services; our country invades them, and some of our poor people kill some of their poor people to ensure that there will continue to be poor people.
By J.D. Bradley2 years ago in Poets
Yvonne
Yvonne the one-eyed whore; that's what she was known as. She had no problems with that designation. I had a bit of a crack problem although I managed to keep a regular job, which is rare. There's generally no balancing a crack habit and paying bills. I lived in one of the barrios of Corpus Christi. I was about as down and out as I've ever been. The crack cocaine lifestyle is not one I recommend but like any such subculture it has a tendency to give you a tribe of sorts. Yvonne was the matriarch of our tribe and I somewhat of the patriarch.
By J.D. Bradley2 years ago in Confessions
A Sheep to be Sheared
A Sheep to be Sheared: He walked into the topless bar with all of the arrogance of an over the hill asshole that didn't understand that his Indiana Jones hat already identified him as a mark...and ordered "a Lemmy" as if the 22 year old bartender would get the cultural reference of Motorhead.
By J.D. Bradley2 years ago in Poets
Sometimes You Have to Ramp Up Your Violence
My friends and I went to Kordon’s dance club every weekend and generally had a blast. There was a guy that also went regularly who was just a buffoon. He’d invariably get drunk and do what can only be described as a chicken dance and because of that he earned the nickname, in our circle, “chicken man”.
By J.D. Bradley2 years ago in Confessions
Upon the Occasion You Get Your Ass Beat
This is a big subject. If you maintain a violent lifestyle, you will get your ass beat from time to time, I don’t give a fuck who you are. You might be the lovechild of Bruce Lee and the Hulk if they could have kids together, but people maneuver and perhaps 3 or 4 guys will kick your ass, or maybe there will be weapons involved, or maybe you are just outclassed by a better fighter, but if you are a violent person you will get your ass kicked from time to time. Life is not a comic book.
By J.D. Bradley2 years ago in Humans
