Hasta Luego Y Gracias Por El Pescao, Cabrones!

The day has finally arrived. After two decades of breathing the same air, seeing the same sites, going to the same places, seeing the same people and doing the same old shit day in and day out. After twenty years of entropy and indifference while wasting away on Progress Island, U.S.A. and feeling like I never quite fit in, I have finally won my “parole” off of this rock. On Thursday I will be heading out of the prison “Gates” and heading for the relative freedom of the mountains of Pennsylvania. Not the most interesting place in the world. But it’s a start and it will be a hell of a lot more interesting than another day watching my fellow Inmates contentedly doing the same ol’ shit. I will not miss the loud noises, the stupid parties and late-night baseball games that keep me up at night. I certainly won’t miss the horse races on the street and the shit they leave behind. Or the idiots who race up and down on their ATVs/mopeds/go carts/dune buggies and then expect decent people to not get pissed off at them when they nearly run over some kid. The never-ending dust that you find on everything? Hopefully a distant memory.

So long and thanks for all the fucking fish, fuckers. I certainly won’t stick around to see how we constantly commit the same fuck-ups and hope that it all turns out different than before. Or when it turns out exactly the same way as it always does, I won’t have to facepalm as I watch in pain, how most of you loudly complain when Uncle Sam won’t come in and save you from your massive fuck-ups. This place is going down and I shall watch it all sink from the safety of the shore. True, America is also undergoing it’s own massive downfall and it too shall suffer greatly. But at least American’s aren’t expecting someone else to step in and save them. Too proud for that shit (although loudly proclaiming how the Chinese are dicks to their own people while we spy on our own and gladly take out loans from them never seemed to have hurt anybody’s egos it seems!) Then when everything has burnt down, I will do my best to piss amongst the ruins and proclaim “I TOLD YOU SO!”

You cling to your faith in a God that is quite frankly, a douchebag who clearly gets off on your suffering, and then say that it’s all some “test” and that those who take it with a smile, will be rewarded later on. You spend what little money you have on playing the lottery in the hopes of striking it rich and having something to retire on and pray to your God to make it happen, while you give away what little you have left, to your Pastor so that they can buy another Rolex or luxury car and proudly stand against any attempt to make it illegal to hurt or kill a fellow human being who may not enjoy the same sexual preferences as you do, all the while they take your children into their office where they can offer them individualized “religious counseling”. Then you shame me into keeping my disdain for your God and your religion to myself, for fear of reprisal against my person and my family. Yet my own family has fallen victim to the collective delusion long ago and ridicules my doubt in invisible bearded men in the sky, anyway. Yeah, I’ll make sure to remember you guys in my post cards to nowhere.

Will I miss out on the thrill of heading down an empty highway late at night and fearing whether the headlights tailgating me will turn out to be my end in a hail of bullet-fire, just because I have the same car as a rival drug lord or like my shitty car can wield a good price on the black market for car parts? Will I miss out on all the traffic jams that only a country with more cars on it’s roads than actual road miles can produce? LOL. Speaking of roads, what about all the potholes and roads constantly undergoing repair and causing even more traffic jams in the process? Fuck no! Plus I find your horrible love for Ricers to be nauseating. You’re not on a fucking Fast And The Furious movie.

You guys never did give me any real encouragement to explore my true passions or expand my knowledge. But reading is for fags anyway, right? Unless it’s a glossy mag at the supermarket checkout telling me about the latest celebrity divorce or some weekday tabloid that proudly used to bill itself as “easy to read” with a Wednesday centerfold girl enticing you to buy it for the girl and the rest for bird cage lining, then it’s not worth expending years of near non-existent public education reading skills on. Because we all know how you can barely read any, if at all. You don’t go misspelling words and no one raises an eyebrow that easily, unless others are just as deficient as you are. Then you feel proud that you didn’t need no books or schooling to get by in life. Why, if you can just go on welfare? Want a nicer car or house, but don’t feel like putting in four more years of your life into school after graduating from high school? Just take up some trade. Not that you really do feel like you can do it for life. But because it gets you onto a cushy job in an air-conditioned factory floor where all you have to do is punch buttons every once in a while and then loudly complain about how you hate your 3k a month job because you have to work weekends and you badly wanted to camp out in front of Gamestop for the latest video game release. Fuck you. I may not have a glamorous job waiting for me or a $20 an hour salary. But at least when I get back from a day of cleaning kitchens and taking out the trash, I will have done some actual work.

In the end, while the only thing I feel sorry about is leaving behind my family to suffer here while the rest of you drag them down with you, I will be doing my damn best to stay the fuck away from you guys for the most part. Call me a “traitor” if you must and an “escapee” if it makes you feel better at night. But you have offered me nothing, despite being one of your own children. In return, I shall take even less. And when I come back, I will come back to destroy you even more, so that when you are nothing more but scorched earth and piles of rubble, I can build you up with the love that only a guy like me can, into the great and beautiful nation that you have always deserved to be. Until then…


No, I’ve never have been addicted to any Schedule I or II substances in my life, nor am I a heavy drinker. But this is exactly what I feel is like to take an impromptu week-long vacation from the place that for years has been basically your home and it’s inhabitants, your second dysfunctional family. I had to do it though. It was either that, or slide into an even deeper depression. People that I’ve grown to care about were getting hurt as the days went on and it hurt me to see them get hurt. The worst part of it all was that feeling of not being able to do a damn thing about it.

I’ve been told that, just like hardcore addicts, that distancing yourself away from those places and people that you have deep connections with, has the same symptoms as chemical withdrawal. The first two days have been hell and it took me by surprise because I thought that this was just going to be something like a working vacation for me. A week off away from all the drama, catching up on some old PC games that I haven’t played in a while, writing on this blog more, starting a new feature here, where I would be posting some of my classic stuff from way back in the day. Instead, all I ended up doing was desperately trying to find another place to get my fix, while going through mood swings and realizing that researching and writing my next post was going to be a chore, now that I no longer have the anger that fueled me years ago to write my best shit. The edgy good stuff that when I read it now, makes me laugh my ass off.

Maybe I could try and be that asshole again. But now I would be haunted be feelings of guilt, thinking about being hounded by the Politically Correct brigade and the easily offended. My new-found sensibility has turned me into a fucking pussy. It would be easier if most people knew how to take the things I and others like me say, with a grain of salt. However, as The Amazing Atheist (love him or hate him) said in one of his videos, we all live on Planet Wuss now.

I’ve been told that I should get out more. Maybe go to the flea market tomorrow, buy a poor quality pirated movie or two, some kabobs and a beer. Take in the small town kitsch that has been my real life environment for the past several years. The last time I’ve been to any place worth a damn on this rock was back in 2007, for my sister’s college graduation. Who knows? Maybe I’ll find that pair of aviator glasses that I’ve been looking for? Now if only I could get some fucking money out of my corporate wage slave debit card, without the local ATM’s charging me a fucking eye for it.

Anyway, here I am, writing this and downloading some patches for the original Fallout game. Yep, I’m going to play it! Last time I played it completely was years ago and I might as well do so again. I remember during the first night of my “vacation” how I tried looking up stuff on the game and yet I felt so down, that I felt disgusted. How can anybody in their right mind feel disgusted at such a great game? No one can unless you are not in your right mind. I certainly ain’t there right now. I want to know if everything will be alright in the days to come, next week, next month, next year? Yet all I feel is uncertainty. I fucking hate uncertainty.

Right now I’m going to log on to what is perhaps one of the most poorly coded and bug riddled MMOs out there at the moment. It sucks in so many ways, yet once you start, you can’t stop. After all, you can’t one day decide to stop being responsible for the welfare of your extra-solar colonies, when you have things to worry about, like protecting them from Brazilian raiders who don’t speak English and understand the gentleman’s agreements that rule the honor system that we built in our particular server, or acquiring that rare piece of equipment that will give you the tactical edge during PvP battles. That game reminds me of my days back when I played a graphically simpler, yet more engaging game online that ruined even more an already doomed “friendship”, over shit like my need to actually sleep or not letting my more experienced friend join our team because he was “a bad influence over me”. I certainly don’t miss those days, but these past few days can be a runner-up for “Most Stressful Time In Ramm’s Life” award.

In the time that it has taken me to finish up this post, I should already have an answer to my troll powder keg question that I set up in order to research my first planned article in years. Like all things that have changed, it’s not particularly troll-ish or mean. But knowing my fellow inmates (from now on I will be referring to my fellow Puerto Ricans as “inmates”, for we are all prisoners in a prison of our own creation) passion for bullshit political discussion, it will either be read the wrong way and be eliminated before anybody responds, or they take it as a personal affront against their ideological leanings and respond with ad hominem attacks to what is in reality a rather serious question that I find no one even seriously ponders over here. Hang on anonymous Chinese aspie ┬ádude, the answers that I promised you are coming! I just hope that it doesn’t trigger your need to argue about Christianity and the need to eliminate paganism.

I’m going now. I have another long night ahead of me and hopefully it will involve me ridding some farm of radscorpions and the future president of the NCR from raiders, while trying to bring a water chip back to my Vault and then save the post-apocalyptic world from Super Mutants.