The writings of Oddpoet

We were hor­ri­fied when Roy of Siegfried & Roy got mauled by a 600 pound white tiger. Appar­ently Herr Roy went into the cage armed with, I guess, one of those mag­i­cal foot stools and smacked Tony the tiger upside his head with a microphone.

“Hey Tiger, jump through a hoop”
“Who you smack­ing upside the head Mother Fucker”

The tiger pro­ceeded to drag Herr Roy around like a rag doll. While Roy waved his remain­ing arm around like a lit­tle bitch, lead­ing to this news release.

“When the best-trained and most-experienced han­dlers of big cats can be attacked and dragged around like rag dolls, it is plainly obvi­ous that untrained pri­vate cit­i­zens should not keep big cats as pets.”

Big shock there, huh? The truth of the mat­ter is there is an esti­mated 7000 big cats kept by pri­vate cit­i­zens in the United States and they kill peo­ple.
“Whoops, he was such a nice cat just before he took lit­tle Judy’s head off.”

Who can for­get Travis the lov­able face eat­ing chim­panzee who ate a neighbor’s face for lunch. Yea, a 200 pound wild Chimp went ape shit. They had to shoot poor Travis as telling him no TV tonight appar­ently had lit­tle effect on him as he was chew­ing through that poor woman’s face. Wild ani­mal are not social­ized and will never be social­ized. When they go off, it’s wel­come to the jun­gle time.

We love to vic­ar­i­ously expe­ri­ence the wild from the safety of our seats. We are a cul­ture of pussies and fag fucks. We let oth­ers take chances so we can be enter­tained. “Aren’t we all a bunch of wild ani­mals Doris?” “Yea, Ward, it really cool to get back to our roots.”

Peo­ple do stu­pid things and they do it all the time, all of us, every sin­gle one of you. We smoke, we drive with­out seat belts, we fall in love with peo­ple who plot our emo­tional destruc­tion, and we stuff burg­ers down our face till a crane is required to pull our bod­ies out of the house.
Some of us even strap sur­plus army rock­ets to our car and crash into a moun­tain going 500 miles an hour. “Wow, didn’t see that coming.”

I worked the Union Safety & Health beat in the most dan­ger­ous envi­ron­ment in the world, a ship­yard. I inves­ti­gated peo­ple being crushed to death on scis­sor lifts, peo­ple falling to their death, legs taken off by fork trucks, peo­ple dying of asphyx­i­a­tion in con­fined spaces, all of it; I had a front row seat boys and girls. The color of a charred body is not black, it’s blue, just in case you were wondering.

Appar­ently I was an unusual union stew­ard, I couldn’t be intim­i­dated, I had balls, I could read and I was artic­u­late. The most grat­i­fy­ing man­age­ment dis­cus­sion con­cern­ing me was told to me by my bud, Fred, a half man­age­ment fuck. He said one Boss whose unsafe job I halted wanted to put the screws to me and my Boss was there and said, “Fuck no; you’ll only make him mad.” Fuck you puke.

Employee’s whose lives and health I was try­ing to pro­tect hated me also. They really hated me.

“Fuckin Eddie and his OSHA rules”

You see they wanted to do stu­pid things cause nine times out of ten you get away with it. But it only takes one time to change your life for­ever or become dead. All in the name of get­ting the job done. All those so called Safety & Health rules man­age­ment pukes and Repub­li­cans make fun of are writ­ten in Blood, every one of them that are in 5 CFR 1910, some­one paid for with their life or a limb. That’s the facts, please don’t bet me.

So do me a favor keep your eyes on the news­pa­per and read about the stu­pid things other humans do on a rou­tine basis and remem­ber who you heard it from.

I remain, never humbly,
The Odd­est of Poets