The tax man cometh...

Papa,

How’s the honeymoon week going? Be gentle, she’s pregnant remember.

Can you forward me Big Jim’s email address – I need to organise my group certificate for tax purposes. Those bastards will hunt you down and use your balls for paperweights if you screw with the tax system. They have nothing else to do Bubba, and when hands are idle they indeed become the devil’s playthings. Those pricks would walk over your frail grandmother to take what little cash you can stash, to feed the greedy overflowing machine. I often wonder what would be the best way to rid yourself of a slippery tax officer - perhaps some form of caustic acid or large blunt force trauma to the head. I guess we'll have to wait and see what they decide to throw at us and fight until the last child soldier has been sent into battle.

Maybe there’s something to be said about buying land in some Pacific atoll that doesn’t fall under any tax threshold…

Res Ipsa Loquitur .

Contact soon.

BS

Wedding Day congratulations

My good Bubba,

So you’ve gone and done it! You’ve fed from the trough of civil union and became hungry for more. It’s quite apparent that you’re a glutton for punishment because this decision of yours has brought you closer to the verge of insanity than you’ve ever been before. Fuck the sane, they’re weak and will get eaten by the Y generation rats that are touted as being the overlords of all things to come, if you believe what the fucking ‘media’ have to say.

I have had a night and a morning to consider the process and consequence of your actions and have come to the conclusion that this is a sign of the end of the world, and I‘ll be a dog-fucker if I don’t have my say it, especially considering that I’m just starting to enjoy it here – tequila, beer, woman, yeah this place ain’t too bad.

Don’t mistake this message as a slight on the lovely Christina, whose heart you have somehow managed to sway with a mix of hard drugs and voodoo. The fact is that she is far too good for someone as fucked up as yourself, someone who was once innocent and has had her innocence ripped away by a psychotic maniac with the morals of a SS officer and the wit of J Edgar Hoover.

My only hope is that she comes to her senses and leaves you out in the desert on a weekend away. All she has to do is lure you out with promises that appeal to your lecherous nature, the fucking animal that has crept through your brain and has made you as evil as the love child of Howard and Bush.

But since whatever drugs and voodoo magic you wove to get this far are considerably strong, I have to assume that this won’t happen. All I can say is I hope you are fucking happy with yourself and that I’m honoured to be by your side when, at the service, the earth becomes black and the final piece of the apocalypse jigsaw has come into fruition. I’ll find my best flower girl dress and load up the M60, and we’ll get this motherfucker on the road!

May god or Buddha or whatever have mercy on our souls, because once this is done, who knows what powers we will unleash on this unsuspecting world.

Much Love,

Buffalo Soldier

Being the first posting on Take the Ride, Bubba, I have been trying to work out what would be a suitable way to begin. Take the Ride, Bubba has been set up as a self indulgent project quite frankly, a place for me to rant and talk shit about... well whatever the fuck I feel like.

In this age of new technology and gadgets and the potential coming of a 'New World Order', finding your own voice can be difficult. Social Networking, easy-to-access communications (which includes... ahem... blogging) has its place in our world as the near-dominant form of communication. Unfortunately, it has continued the rise of ridiculous cyber-words, such "LOL" and phrases such as "Wat R U up 2 2nite?". Fuck off. You have no right to the English language if your going to embellish in such mindless shit.

I'm far from being a Luddite or a sceptic to the evolution of language and colloquialisms, but emoticons and cyber-speak is rubbish. It represent the laziness of people who cannot be arsed writing correctly and using our faces for emotional reactions. I mean, really - WTF?

If you're any sort of new journalism, cult author or all round literary nerd, then Take the Ride, Bubba may seem familiar to you. It's taken from a well-worn phrase from psychopath Gonzo journalist Hunter S Thompson - "Buy the ticket, take the ride". What it means is that there's no determination as to how long we're on this planet, so make the best of it.

Take the Ride, Bubba will be a forum for me to talk about politics, literature, media, music, movies, society - anything that comes across my plate that inspires or pisses me off. I won't claim to be an expert of any of these subjects (so quoting me won't do much for your credibility), but by purely making comments and observations, it helps to continue the flow of opinion and objection in a world where freedom of expression is often taken for granted. Throwing our hats in the ring makes us all experts - it's only dictated by how learned our opinions are.

So kick back, open a beer and be enlightened - it's a big world and it's ours, Bubba.