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It Ain't Easy Being Indian
It aint easy being indian:
Tuesday, April 12 2011
 
Written by Circle Staff,
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There is a whole lot going on these days, not so much with me (miraculously for a change I'm all good) but the rest of this planet and its denizens who appear to be riding the nuclear crazy train off the tracks right to hell.
Millions of severely stressed, traumatized people are trying to cope with natural and man-made disasters, global warming effects and yet another war in a Middle Eastern country.  Add to this mix more Muslim nations that wanna kick the old regimes out of power, worldwide radiation; shake-do not stir and whaddaya got? A big ole hot, lumpy, stinking pool of sick that is right out of Biblical text describing The End of Days, The Apocalypse, Doomsday, etcetera…  
I am far and away from most of the hot spots, literally, cuz it's still sickeningly cold in here in Rezberry. So I and my near loved ones and friends are okay thus far. But my heart is overseas with the Japanese people who are suffering unimaginable tragedy; the Muslim nations that are rebelling so their children will live a better life in a democracy, sans crazy brutal dictator regimes (I sympathize; I lived during GW Brutus Bush II years). BTW-Indians and Americans need to heed the fanatical Republican candidates signing up for the 2012 presidential election. This crazy crew of hate-mongers, hypocrites and disinformation specialist's are already delightfully amusing! Run Michelle Run!!!
It ain't easy being indian
Sunday, March 13 2011
 
Written by Ricey Wild,
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Late last month it was my Mum'z birthday. Money has been an issue lately so I had to scheme to get the most bang for my buck. I cashed in my players card points at the Risky Raccoon Kasino for $10, then I took her out to eat at McDees $1 menu; we shared a small fries, a large soda, two $1 burgers and she got to eat a sundae all by herself. Semi-full and in the mood to shop I gave Omi a budget of $5 at the Dollar Store. My Mumz was giddy with joy.
Actually...no, I just made that story up. I was able to purchase roses, chocolate cheesecake, a boombox with a cassette player and cards from The Mitz and me that included "4 U-2 Bux!" which is our family tradition begun by my son Steve.
It ain't easy being indian
Friday, February 11 2011
 
Written by Ricey Wild,
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Like many Indians and Americans I have been unemployed for way longer than I thought I would be. It really sucks and I am seriously questioning the local employers' sanity. Who doesn't want a brilliant, saucy Diva working for their Tribe? I mean really! I'm gold! I've always been paid far less than males are for the same job and yet I am also expected to serve as a mental health/sympathetic listener/gopher and driver as well.
Yanno what? I don't give a fat rat's hindquarters about your dead father who was a drunken jerk. Mine was too and yet I don't have the compulsion to repeatedly share my sad stories to captive audiences. I showed up to work and perform my job description as expected.
In one of my past jobs I was forced to listen to utterly absurd, schitzo-paranoid fantasies (someone changed her furniture around while she was in the shower and did laundry, too). Wow. Imagine yourself having to share part of your day, never mind an enclosed office, with a person like that. Imagine it and then ask yourself WWRD (What Would Ricey Do?). Quit, like I did. I was very relieved that there were only plastic knives, staple removers and fresh copy paper around that had sharp edges. Arrrgh! Don't get me started! Oops! I already got started.
It ain't easy being indian
Thursday, January 13 2011
 
Written by Ricey Wild,
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I am absolutely astonished by what some people pay big money for. Just this past December an American flag was sold for 2.2 million dollars at a Sotheby’s auction. Of course it wasn’t just any old flag; it was one of five carried into battle in 1876 by the 7th U.S. Cavalry at Little Bighorn. Yup. The battle that is described in American history as “infamous” because the Indians rolled in and kicked Whitey’s asses. Well, the victor’s did much more than that of course and afterward took the flags as souvenirs. The one tattered flag the Indians did not get was underneath a fallen trooper and has bloodstains on it, which apparently makes it more valuable. Ick! I know!
The article headline read “Custer’s Last Flag” and now I am happily wondering what I’ll get for “Custer’s Last Drawers.” How I came to acquire them is an Area 51-type secret and his tighty-whiteys are safely stored away in an undisclosed location in Antarctica. The most important money value of Custer’s panties is that they have quite a big load of poops still in them! I speculate that his unplanned bowel movement must have occurred after he rode over the hill and saw all them Indians.
It Aint Easy August
Friday, October 15 2010
 
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In the off-chance any of you were holding your breath or just wondering what the heck is going on at the Rezberry Elders’ apartments, I have some updates for you. Juicy ones, too! I have renamed it “Helrose Place” after that 90s soapy drama on FOX, Melrose Place, get it? Ay!
Last month I reported that a teeny-tiny wheelchair bound Elderly Lady was being given the boot for rental arrears in the astonishing amount of $2.00. A fund raising effort by other rez-idents of the building did bring in $1.03, but since then Rezberry Housing has added yet another $1.00 in addition to the hardship and humiliation she has already endured.
In a desperate effort to help even more, some Elders and their middle-aged offspring had the audacity to have a BBQ and a laughing good time in the courtyard wherein they were allegedly observed, albeit somewhat out of focus, that they were drinking (gasp!) Beer!
 I KNOW!!! There they were, sipping sparingly of the mild barley beverage, but only so they could turn the cans in to raise money for their dear neighbors back rent! Those Elders have had long careers, raising their children and helping with grandchildren. They fought for our country and made great sacrifices in blood and tears so their descendants would not have to suffer the indignities they and their parent’s parents did. Those Elders are not allowed to have a beer or glass of wine, at all - in their own home place.
Well, in order to make that point clear, the Rezberry Riders (a.k.a. The Fuzz) finally got to use the fancy new maneuvers they picked up last year from the State, Federal, County, Immigration and local cops when the Hells Angels motored into town.
The very next time a very subdued party was blurrily spotted in the courtyard by the nark, 911 was called and Rezberry’s finest showed right up. They brought their new unit along, who are trained like a SWAT team (only they‘re called Savage Warriors Against Terrorists) and they wore full camo body armor.
In a stealthy, devious tactic worthy of Rambo they busted in the front and emergency doors simultaneously. Officers were also stationed at each ground level window, lest an Elder try to escape the containment lines. Helicopters with SWAT team members, hanging from rope ladders, landed in the courtyard where the fundraising festivities were being held. And no one was there! It was past eight o’clock and the hard-partying Elders had already turned back their bed covers and were soundly asleep during the iraid.
The Rezberry Rider’s had made all those cunning plans to catch the miscreant Elders in the act of having fun, and all they found was one old woman who was quarreling with her son.
I heard too that there were several handicap accessible paddy wagons to haul the old folks away, a few empty ambulances equipped for personal gurneys, and two regular squad cars for those who could still shuffle. Really!
It must have a slow night in Rezberry and Blueberry. It’s not like there aren’t any criminals around who openly steal and deal pills, or have violent, sociopathic tendencies toward defenseless women and children. Just saying.
Who knew that them seemingly quiet Elders wielded such power as to make the local community quiver with fear? I’m gonna advise them to hide their guns, ammo, and remains of deer that were shined – and that all the unlicensed gambling has to cease for now. The moonshine still will also have to be on the down-low, for appearances sake. The stripper pole in the community room will also have to be dismantled, so no more crazy disco fun there either. Several Elders have expressed regret and stated they no longer have the will to go on.
Okay, maybe I exaggerated a little, but only a smidge, really. All the events are true, though they have been ever-so-slightly altered to protect the guilty.
I have wonderful news! This little burg has been spruced up lately, so the air is clean and sweet again, no more poisonous, toxic fumes are being spread about. And I and me Mumz are laughing our faces off, we feel so good! It’s great to share this with yooz, my readers. May happy blessings come your way also. Sometimes, you just have to wait.
At the time of this writing I am going to the Big, Bad City to see some old friends of mine who have been long neglected by me. Sure, some of them may be totally okay with that, but the others? You know who you are, I miss yooz and I can prove it. I learned from my dog The Mitz that puppy kisses are the best and sweetest of all so….
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