Thursday, June 27, 2013

That Literary Shit: 503 GOES HARD!

The newest project to escape the 503 is a joint effort between my brother from another mother Adam Anderson and the Juggernaut himself, Pete Tobias.

This group effort is to be known as "Moon Burn" and is slated to be set approximately 200 years in the future.  Both of us have experience as writers, but this is our first time working together.  Without further adieu, I present to you just a meager snippet of "Moon Burn" by Adam Anderson and Pete Tobias.  Enjoy!

As the flocks of those resigned to their grim fate shuffled past him with their heads hung in despair, Lee caught sight of one – and only one – who's eyes seemed to hold a light of determination. A wry grin spread across the features of the heavily muscled sociopath as eye contact was made. "You must be new here.”

The new arrival nodded slightly, though his eyes had become unsettled. It was as if the fresh meat was searching for an escape route. You had to admire his persistence. Sadly, Lee didn't share this view of the plucky draftee. “Welcome to the moon! The food is shit, the people treat you like shit, and if your lucky someone will gladly slit your throat. Word has it that's the only way off this rock.." As if on cue, Lee hefted a recently created corpse off the ground, chuckling loudly as he used his finger to demonstrate that the exact mentioned fate had befallen this departed soul. The blood that ran from his throat had barely even congealed, not even formed that flaky crimson crust of spilled and wasted life along the lower throat. After the demonstration of carnage, the cadaver was thrown over his shoulder, treated with all the care one would give a large bag of dog food. A few large, effortless strides later, and the trash chute was being pulled open. The dead body was lowered to the opening, and once partially inserted Lee gave it a good shove, ensuring it would reach the furnaces below. Deacon's heart sank. "By the way, the name is, well every one calls me Grizzly Bear.”

Sunday, January 13, 2013

Why Twitter doesn't suck!

When I first created my Twitter account, it was literally just to post scores from Temple Run.  I didn't give a shit about connecting with people, especially not 140 characters at a time. Then something clicked and I decided to check it out for serious.  I think I was just tired of the endless he said she said drama shit on failbook.  It happens from time to time.  Failbook gives you a nasty rash, you put some cream on it and stay away a few days, and all is well.  But in that time away, I really dug into twitter.  I followed a shitload of athletes, a couple rappers, and some sportscasters.  Nothing really serious.  Then I saw boobs on a post.  Follow the boobies!  LOL. Yeah, that really happened.

FAST FORWARD!  I'm interacting with people all over the country, and a pretty rad fuckin guy on the other side of the pond.

How is this different than failbook?  I've got friends on failbook all over the country and a couple super rad friends in England.  I suppose, to an extent, it's not.  On the surface, the only difference is the display name/pic and the 140 character limit on twitter.  But when you explore the difference between my friends list and my twitter followers, there's some pretty profound differences.

On failbook, I've got a lot of friends.  Like 200 people that occasionally see what I have to say because failbook thinks "top stories" should be the default viewing option for your news feed.  I'm not saying I should constantly be a top story in the lives of 200+ people.  I don't have that kind of ego, and frankly I don't have that much important shit to say.  However, of these 200+ people, I've either met them in person, had meaningful electronic communication, or both.  I suppose that's a +1 for failbook.

Onward, toward Twitter!  I have literally NO clue how it happened.  One day, I went from having like 12 followers to the 77 I have now.  No, that's not a lot.  That's about a molecule in the drop in the bucket.  But so far, it seems to be quality over quantity.  I've had brief (by character limit) interactions with MANY people.  A lot of em were rappers.  Bukshot in Louisville, Yasko in Phoenix, Julie Juice in Pittsburgh, DJ Bad Daddy in England somewhere (LOL Sorry bud!).  I've conversed for hours with Simlev of Krokmiten, a Canadian death metal band.  This weekend has been especially monumental in my short twitter tenure.  I've been followed back by Ryu from Styles of Beyond as well as by the one and only Necro.  Yeah.  The sickest fuck on the planet Earth, as declared on the Prefix For Death album, followed random ass guy Me.  This afternoon, The one and only Ripgut Cannibal himself, Brotha Lynch Hung and I were shit talking each other about football. On top of all that, fans of these musicians have decided to tune in to what I have to say, and other musicians see that I follow one musician or another and follow me to get their own name out.  Rappers like Big Kurt, who've worked with some of the sickest in the business.  Other random ass people, which SEEMS kinda strange but actually works out pretty well, such as sharing grief over the Seahawks loss with Mr. Charles Koh.  Or educators like Carla McNeil, a business coach for social media.

Don't get me wrong.  My twitter feed is pretty much split into thirds between sports, music, and softcore porn, with just enough splattered humanity to make me feel a little less like a degenerate.. which is just about fuckin perfect!

Should you ever catch the twitter bug, feel free to look me up.  @Grizzlybear503 is the user name.  If you're more into Facebook, I'm Pete Tobias.  Should you find more than one Pete Tobias, I'm the only one that uses the Red Hulk as my profile pic. Yeah, the only person in the history of ever to pick up Thor's hammer besides Thor. My only request is that you speak something close enough to English for me to translate it, and I'll follow back or accept the friend request.

Well, thanks for using your eyeballs to read my opinion, humans.  Feel free to comment, follow my blog if you'd like (Yes, I spew random shit.  No fixed topics YET), and do what makes you happy because life is too short to be pissed off all the time.. unless you fuck up trimming your beard.  Then being pissed off is totally legit.  Thankfully I didn't do that today.  See?  Random as hell.

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Grown Folks Game

So I was sitting at my desk, listening to some La Coka Nostra and talking to the ex wifey, Ms. Awesome herself.. and some thoughts jumped at me.  Specifically the subject of dating.

Follow me on a little journey on the history of this word, and the ensuing thoughts.

Back in the day, and I'm sure the older folks reading this will just smile and nod, dating was just that.  Dating.  Testing the waters, seeing who you got along well with as opposed to who you got along great with.  Or in some cases, not at all.  It was an educational process of trying to see who out there was worth taking another step forward.

A lot of people got the shit twisted!  I've even been guilty of it myself.  Dating doesn't mean if the girl you're dating decides to give someone else a hug or something that you have the right to whoop this kid for touching your girl.  Why?  She's not yours.  You're dating.  And until the subject of exclusivity is even approached in a positive manner, you don't have shit to say.  If she blows you off, and ends up in the same place with another dude.. you can't even get pissed.  It's not your night.  C'mon son.  Get your head right.  If she says you're just dating and you get all possessive, it's on YOU.  It's not her fault you don't know what she just said.  And that'll probably be the last date unless she's attracted to the special ed type of cat that doesn't know what the hell dating is, or barbarians that get overly possessive.

Now, the second she says "I'm yours", "Yes", or "I do!" that changes things immensely.  Now you have some sort of right to be a little protective.  But until then, calm down!

All the time, I see people posting shit about "I don't wanna be an option.  I wanna be a priority."  We all do! Even my cold-hearted, grouchy ass wants to be some lucky lady's number one soldier!  I'm actually a pretty tender type guy if you give enough of a fuck to peel back the layers and fight through the tears. Lol!  Well, if you want it, EARN IT.  Don't expect a (wo)man to just hand over their heart and their house keys, half the bed, and half their bathroom counter.  Unless of course, you're attracted to the special ed type.

So the next time you see shorty you took out the other night slurpin' spaghetti with another guy on some Lady and the Tramp shit (I dare you to lie and say the spaghetti scene wasn't romantic as hell!) don't get mad.  Smile for her, and move on with your night. Don't wave, don't get mad and start shit.. Just go about your business.  Text her later, and not even with an accusation!  Life's too short to get pissed that you got benched for a play or two.

So for now.. I leave you with some sick ass JMT. :D

"Nosebleed" - Vinnie Paz Ft/RA The Rugged Man

Saturday, July 21, 2012

Meh.. what's really real.

MAN.. After the day I had today, I kinda need to write.  Work this shit out.

My original plan today was to walk to the bank, stop at Bronze Planet for an aqua massage (They don't suck!), then hopefully maybe hit the gym before I had to get ready for work.  BAHAHAHA -- No.

So I woke up stupid late.  I went to bed stupid late, so it just kinda adds up that way.  I actually got to TALK to my girlfriend though.. major awesome.  On my way to the bank I check my finds and whatnot.  Due to not wanting to touch my savings for trivial shit, especially when it's such a trivial amount, and the fact that I had like 37 seconds to get ready for work, it wasn't gonna happen today at all.

Crossing Wallace Road at Glen Creek is always risky unless it's like 4 AM.  Not one single fuck is given at that intersection.  Ever.  So I literally YELLED "Hi!  Your car is three inches from my knee!"  Dude yells at me to get out of the way like it's my fault he wasn't watching for pedestrians.  DAFUQ?!  Douche bag, I'll beat you so bad your momma won't recognize you AND piss on what's left over!  Despite the instant violent urges that turn my blood into a sea of adrenaline I SMILE and offer the advice "Please watch what the fuck you're doing next time, dick." Dude glares and drives up the hill.  Incident ended.  On my way home from the bank, he's BACK at that intersection, and looking all smug at me.  I smile.. in that way that only manages to piss someone off, and motion for him to get out, pull over, whatever.  Despite the fact I got to talk to my girlfriend, I'm ACHING to beat this little snotty bastard!  Nope.  Chuck Testa.  Dude drives away.  Oh well.

I get home JUST in time to hit the shower.  Great!  I can do that, and shave because I'm Lightning McQueen in this piece!  Forgot to put on deodorant, but thankfully, my pits never got to the point tonight that they smelled like anything but soap.  LEGIT!!  Shit.. I should do that now.  Be right back.  Ok.. all better.  Anyway, while I'm in the shower, I make a rookie mistake and catch my yam bag JUST WRONG with the razor.  GREAT!  Meh, it's just blood.  I got to TALK to Tish today.  Fuck it.  I win. So I throw clothes on and head to the bus stop.

While I'm at the bus stop, I express my displeasure with people inviting me to events on nights I work.  Come on people.  My schedule hasn't changed THAT much.  It was the same for a solid year.  ONE day changed.  Not hard to keep track of, and I've expressed that I don't want event invites repeatedly.  Learn some fucking respect.  Anyway, I actually thanked one of the local event promoters for deleting me on Facebook.  I don't care about Facebook, or shit that happens on work nights so I was genuinely pleased.  ....the bitch got mouthy.  I tell her to choke on a bag of dicks AND fuck herself with a cactus. As a result she quips that I have no friends (mostly true), I have no life (entirely true), and I'm just jealous because I work on weekends (Entirely false in terms of being jealous.) and that I'm "truly a freak psycho fatty and should be blocked".

Yeah, I'm a freak.  Much like everyone else, I have certain fetishes I enjoy.  Also, I don't try to fit in with a fucked up society full of morons and drunks.  I work around them.  I don't wanna join them.  That would be dumb.

Yeah, I'm kinda crazy.  I don't much care about my own well being.  That isn't to say I don't wanna be able to afford things and live a healthy lifestyle.  I just really don't care if I get sick or injured.  I've never placed much value in that sort of thing.  Does it suck?  Yeah, but it's usually temporary.  Whatever.  Adapt!  That's what humans do.  I also have off-the-charts anger issues, I'm extremely antisocial, and have a really hard time giving a damn about just about anything.

And yes, I'm fat.  I see it every morning, I admit it at least once a day, and I've dealt with it MY ENTIRE FUCKING LIFE!  I'm also working on changing that because I'm over it.  Whatever.  Does having it thrown in my face help my day get better, no.  Does it hurt having it thrown in my face?  LOL NO.  Like I said.  I've been overweight in the eyes of a society full of stick figures I could break over my knee like kindling for 32 and a half years.  Sometimes, it has it's benefits.  I can make some pretty funny comments when someone asks why I work the door at work.  "Bitch, I AM the door!"  True story.  I use my size as an advantage, and I know how to move myself to make me an immovable object.  You think you're moving this 285 pound asshole if I don't want you to?  No, I don't either.  I'd rather outsmart someone (And believe me, I can.), but if I gotta get physical.. just fucking run.  And when you do, I won't chase you.  Just realize you were right in doing so.

So I get downtown.  I'm trying to text Tish (She's busy) and texting Kat/Kayte/bitchface (LOL <3).  She goes by either of the first two.  Anyway.. EVERY SINGLE PERSON I CROSS PATHS WITH decides that I'm the guy they wanna talk to.  So I do my best to be subtle, bury myself in my phone.  Subtle doesn't work, and I'm getting really grumpy, really fast.  Even when I literally stop responding in any way shape or form.. still with the blah blah blah.  One, I literally growled at.  "Stop.. fucking.. speaking."  I dunno if you caught that earlier, but I'm REALLY antisocial.  So if a conversation with me could save your life and we've never met before then... lol you're dead, and I really don't care.

BUT!  Now I'm tired as hell and I have a headache.  So I leave you with a link to a song I connect with more than I connect with most people.

"The Animal" -- Disturbed

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Discrimination Against Pedestrians?

Its been nearly two years since I had a car.  For the most part, I get around ok.  I can take a bus, a cab, or just walk when I need to go somewhere.  It's no big deal to me.  However, I've found that as a pedestrian there's a lot of discrimination, and a preference toward people with cars.

Issue number one:
Places that close the lobby early, but keep the drive-through window open.  Banks, restaurants, etc.  It can be justified with the fact they need the time to clean the lobby before they close, especially in the case of restaurants.  I get that.  However, everywhere I've worked had a shift where person A closed the lobby, person B closed the back, and the manager did the paperwork.  Whoever finished their closing tasks last stayed until the manager was done.  Considering the fact that after the dinner rush, keeping the lobby clean is super easy, closing the lobby early just doesn't make sense.  In the case of banks, the tellers don't even clean the lobby.  They have a cleaning crew to do that for them.  Maybe it's to lower labor costs, but it still sucks.  especially if you have to make a deposit, need money right away, and have to use the ATM.

Issue number two:
Coffee shacks.  As was the case today during my adventures, the coffee slangin' person was blissfully ignorant of my presence.  When I knocked on the window, it was ignored.  I walked around the front to see if there was even anyone in there and the girl was in the back, playing on her laptop so I knocked again.  She decided it was a great time to do dishes.  Dafuq?!  I saw that the drive-up window.. CLOSEST TO THE REGISTER (Which was within reach.. way to go smart bitch..) was open so I peeked my head in and informed her I'd been waiting outside to order for about five minutes.  She looked at me like I'd just crapped on her front porch and shoved her chair under the desk/counter/wtf-ever and walked up front.  Literally asked me "Well, what do you want?" Now, I had options.  I could have told her to pleasure herself with a cactus.  I SHOULD have, honestly.  However, Coffee In Motion closed at 6, Dutch Bros. is freakin terrible, and I dislike Starbucks as a company.  Thus, I ordered my drink.  A six shot white chocolate Americano with cream on ice.  She made it as fast (and poorly) as she possibly could have - I had to stir the chocolate into it with my straw - took my money (Which did NOT include a tip.  First time in years I haven't tipped my coffee pusher.), and walked away without thanking me, nor even a "see ya later!".  Just walked off.  Snotty bitch.  Had she not had the window open, I probably would have been waiting even longer or just walked off without coffee.  Sorry I disturbed your Facebook session.  There HAVE been time I've gone to Dutch Bros. without a car.  Specifically for blackberry red bull.  It's pretty good!  When I did (Back when I lived on Wallace Rd), it didn't take very long to get noticed at the walk-up window, but my presence there scared the hell out of the coffee pimp.  I can't count the times I'd be standing there, patiently, with a pleasant smile, and literally scared the piss out of the employees.  Back then, I had bus routes and times down!  I had to be at the bus stop, ready to go, by either X:15 or X:45 so I'd get there about 6 minutes early.  That gave me time to finish the cigarette I lit walking out of my house, get a blackberry red bull (I WON'T drink their foul brew.  Yuck.), finish it, and get on the bus.  There were times that I was literally ignored until just before the bus stopped and since you can't take soft-sided containers (AKA coffee stand cups) I would just walk away shaking my head and get on the bus.  Usually, the coffee pimp would ask if I wanted something, and I'd respond with "Yeah, five minutes ago when I had time to drink it.  Have a nice day."

Issue number Three:
Idiot drivers.  Note to all you brainless whelps:  Look BOTH ways before you leave the driveway, turn on a red, etc.  If I had a nickel for every time I'd nearly been hit by some scumbag just watching for oncoming cars instead of looking both ways, I could probably buy the bar I'm currently employed at.  I put my life on the line more often by not having a two thousand pound, motorized suit of armor than most professions that expect to be shot at!  And that's just by walking to McDonalds!  In fact, it happened twice today on my way to pay my storage unit and once yesterday walking to the bus line after a cigarette.  The latter instance the lady literally was inches from taking out my right knee and looked at me like I did something wrong for following the traffic signals!

Now, I'm not hating on people with cars, nor bitching about my lack thereof.  But if this blog post enlightens someone (especially one of you brainless whelps that doesn't watch for pedestrians), then I'm glad to have made a difference. Driving is a privilege, not a right.  Not everyone has that privilege.  Just keep those that don't in mind at intersections and your place of business.

And if you drink and drive, I hope you get popped for it every time it happens. :)


Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Local rappers READ THIS SHIT..

Ok, ok.  I gotta do this.  I hear a LOT of local rap.  A LOT.  And I love you kids for trying!  I do!  But seriously, some of y'all need HELP.  Others, just put the goddamn mic down because spittin' is NOT a good look for you.  I'm not gonna point fingers, name names.. that's a dick move.  Just sayin'.. after you read this post and listen to the link I just provided you, be objective.  I'll see you in a few minutes.

Smart rhymes.. analyze it.

Ok, you back with me?  Good.  I'm not sayin' your style sucks if you're not a chopper.  I'm sayin' all these cats, especially Kali and Godemis in this example, spit some of the smartest rhymes I've ever heard.  Yeah, Kali chops HARD.  But if you listen to the words, the meanings, the way they connect.. the multis, the metaphors.  Just technically sound rhymes!  If your style isn't TECHNICALLY SOUND, get back in the lab and fix it!  And please, for the love of the Gods, pass this on.  The 503 deserves to sound NICE, not retarded. 

For the record, it's been a decade and change since I wrote anything seriously.

For the record, I could pull out a head sheet from the 90's or mid2000's and fuckin murk with it. 

No, I won't battle you.  Keep your ego, and embrace some self preservation.  Who wants to get bodied by an old ass man in front of their friends?!

That said, I'm sure you want me to prove it.  Gimme a beat and I'ma leave it in ashes.  Get at me.. True speaks, I'm doin' this because I love the 503, I got respect for those who actually PURSUE these pipe dreams.  I'm not just being a judgmental asshole.  I'm trying to HELP YOU! 

I'ma leave you with something to vibe to though, just as a present.  You thought I was just gonna pull your cards and not do something nice for ya?  Come on.. LOL!

It's All that I Know

Sunday, May 20, 2012

Can't take a break!

It's been a while since my last post.  Figure I'll throw out an update.  Here's how things go in the world of Pete lately.

Much to the chagrin of quite a few people (Hi haters. <3) Tish and I are together.  I might do some stupid shit sometimes, but I love her more than life.  True Story.

I'm looking to move.  NOW.  It sucks.  I hate moving.  But I can't afford this apartment by myself.  Steve has helped with cleaning and groceries, which has been HUGE, but financially, I just can't cover it anymore by myself.  I'm not upset with anyone about it.  The only one I have a right to be upset with is myself for not working harder.  I'm going out to Valley Brook tomorrow to apply.  They have an open unit. that fits my needs.  Also, I have an email out to the manager of the place I moved out of when mom got sick.  My old apartment is open.  That would be FANTASTIC.  $450 a month, still with Salem Electric, and I should get decent signal for my Clear modem.  As of tomorrow, I'm helping mom move Steve's stuff.  This translates to a need to get my ass up early, get out to Valley Brook, and be BACK HOME by 3:30-4:00.  I can do this!

I'm still looking for more work, or better work.  As I said before, I don't give a damn who signs the paychecks as long as there's numbers on it.  Preferably BIG numbers, but if I can't pull that off, I'll be reasonably happy about just adding more numbers to what I already get.  However, with this move in progress, I'm gonna see where I end up before I do any more pavement pounding.  Makes no sense to get myself a job here then move out south, or just move a few blocks and get another job out by the bar.  I just know I have about 48 hours to pull off a miracle.

Yes, without a car, most of my house/job hunting has been done via the internet and hasn't turned up jack in the work department.  It kinda works though because just about everything requires that you apply online these days.

Anyway, I'm off to send more emails.  Wish me luck!