Park Rangers

I suppose it has become apparent to you by now, you who never come here and read these things, that I am not "your ordinary blogger." For one thing I can write. For another thing, I have a highly active intellect. For another thing I am constantly, even at this late date, shedding stupidity which has been poured over me to a once-suffocating degree by "grownups" during my childhood and adolescence; the time when the young are supposed to be taught truth and facts and are instead taught lies, wives' tales, superstitions, and the bad habits of their parents which they inflict upon their own young. What does this have to do with Park Rangers, you might ask. Well, what it has to do with Park Rangers is that because of my particular uniqueness and determination to see what is really there and not what someone is TELLING me is there, I see Park Rangers probably differently from the way you see them. You probably see them as happy, pleasant, Kaptain Kangaroo-type beings whose purpose in life and delight-of-the-day is to keep the forest a happy place for little squirrels to live and little racoons to wash oysters in the riverbed so that YOUR CHILDREN can come to the National Parks and squeal with a transcendent happiness at Mr Bluejay going hoppy hoppy hoppy on his way. But that's not what I see. I see big fat uniform-busting Asscheek Beings, a large percentage of them dragon-ugly bulldykes, another large percentage of them portly reetards whose greatest expenditure of energy is to come upon you from out of nowhere when you are about to inspect something interesting and tell you not to inspect it. I don't see diligent guardians of the forest I see diligent guardians of their own jobs and their own comfortable buildings in which to live and work and which far exceeed in comfort and surroundings your own home, and which they do not have to upkeep themselves, and who, in the course of their workday do not NEED TO ACTUALLY DO EVEN ONE FUCKING THING!! Except of course wait for you to ask them a question. Which they will usually answer in a simplistic, robotic, pleasant way, unless they are big huge fat ugly bulldyke monsters and then they will, to be sure, answer in as pleasant a manner as they are capable of giving to you, especially if you are not a man - a breed of human they detest with more hatred than lions have for hyenas. However while they are being as pleasant as a hate filled monster pussylicker-with-a-pussy can be, you can see and feel the strain it is causing them. Unless you are a hot chick. Then they will go overboard to be pleasant and delightful. Because a big ugly bulldyke is a big ugly bulldyke, be it a Park Ranger or a prison warden or a bus driver. You know what would be fun?....this just came to me.....what would be fun would be to line-up a hundred or so big fat uniform-bursting female behemouths and have contestants try to figure out, one at a time, which one was a municipal bus driver and which one was a Park Ranger. I will give you a clue; most of the nigger ladies will be the bus drivers. There just ain't that many nigger Park Rangers. Now, I don't mean to sound like a bigot: but niggers just don't "get" nature stuff. Animals, rocks, plants, birds, the forest, geology, bugs, trees, snow, wind, rain, fire - well maybe Wind Rain and Fire; but not "the outdoors".....that just ain't in their DNA to "get." This ain't a criticism. It's just what's there. (Remember the beginning of this little essay?.....I'm the guy that actually sees this shit and just says so. Go back and reread the beginning of this if you forgot.)