BEGGING FOR ALMS FROM ATHEISTS

I hate begging. I will do so if I am a quarter short to getting on the train, or dying for a cigarette or in need of a weed front, but little else will get me there, okay? But.. Since I am trying to better my existence, and be a bit more like the great artists I so admire, it is time for me learn the fine art of begging. I had a horrible vision of this one day when I was very young and very sure that writing was some kind of financial boon like being a rock star or something, as I read through a hard bound, beige copy of bowdlerizing letters. Most of them were to his mother. Something like twelve or more opened with the line,

"My Dear Mother,

I will never, ever again ask you for money but I must do so once again."



I called my mom and told her about this at the time and can still remember her bitter, bitter laugh. She knew. None of us in my family who matter ever chased the bucks for a lifestyle. She started reading to us while we were still in her womb and filled us with an alternative way of seeing the images that would one day splash across our eyes like acid.

Baudelaire's letters letters begging your parents for money. . . . That should probably be on the curriculum of every high school freshman English class, to avoid a bunch more souless art fucks like me too stunned by the damage already done to even know where to start cleaning up the bloody mess...




Those embarrassing letters baudelaire wrote are another one of those things we piddling nobodies can (with varying degrees of conviction) add to the long lists that those of us who are not famous need to convince ourselves our lot is better..... We play our own conman's, forever our own mark ready to believe the spell/lie that we don't even want to be JESUS CHRIST SUPERSTAR -- that life in the muddy world outside the pretty, pretty tv land is just fine....

I have been leading up to something here, obviously.... so, unless you are too self absorbed, involved in a phone conversation, watching southpark, or making sure your boss can't see that you're reading my site, or simply just too head dented to get much of anything and are right about now reaching for the keys to find a site with more mountain jugs and furry crotched near children.... You should realize that I am whoring myself here. Begging for alms. Sort of. I like to consider this more of a knock on the back door from a weary traveler, who wouldn't mind doing a look work for a sandwich and a few coins.

I am basically saying that since I can't work due to the porous nature of my lower spine and hips (I hate always mentioning this, sorry -- I deal with it better than you would think, so never let the mention of it matter, should you be the kind of psycho to bond with a misanthropic human hunter such as myself who is indeed, and I am sure much to your chagrin, both a dog and a cat person).


Not that I am going to start charging people to read my work.

I just want to offer some other services, like getting a tax break for making a donation to the arts, or sending off old sets of paints and brushes that someone has left over and has sat in the garage forever. An actual money order would be fine, as well. My social security check is so small that I can't even afford a bank account anymore.... And money orders are easy to cash.

As far as earning a few bucks? If you know of anyone who needs tutoring, like writing a paper on a book, I would be glad to help them over the internet. I have done a lot of this kind of work, and once made 75 an hour doing it. But now, I would read a book and help you for like 30 bucks. I can send you signed, framed whatever sizes of all of my paintings for various prices. I will frame them and send them off and sign them. The same with all the paintings in here. Tell me which one you like and will send you the size and the latest picture, etc....

To this end, I did something last night that I am kind of embarrassed about. They have a free newspaper here, the reader, and a column where you can publish in the classifieds for free. The title is wanted. I decided, what the hell, I have nothing to lose...

Pulled up the page and wrote something about being a disabled painter and writer who needed help and directing them to my websites for further instructions. It might be a good way to get a bunch more readers? I don't know if anyone will actually come out of the wood work and send me much needed money. It is kind of an experiment. When I woke up all straight the next morning, I had a flash of embarrassment for writing the damn thing.... But, as they say, strangers things have happened.... like that chick who got 75 grand to pay off her credit cards.

So, there it is, the article for the people who start coming to my site tomorrow to see if I am for real or anything. I even put my phone number and address in there? What the hell do I have to lose?

My fans will probably one day support me, when the books finally start coming off... Speaking of which, I am happy with this weeks work and will write about that next....




I worked 12 hours a day and went to school full time for twelve years. I took plenty of time to do art, edited a magazine, wrote for two little TV shows, a play, published songs and short stories and collages... Then later, the paintings began to sell for a bit of money, though I am no Picasso. I do hold designs on being better than most prints and all rock posters, okay?

When my health failed, a fusion from twenty years before began falling apart. Pieces of bone as big as the end third of your finger are like inches away from the spine. Wondrously, all this cartelidge and assorted stuff surrounded the bone and is keeping it mostly away from the spine. All on its own it did this. Thinking without me. I'm no mystic, but I was impressed with the body that day, for sure.

Now, I can get along a bit. I have to take way more pills than I want, which is a lot, believe me. The pain is such though that only something like morphine would take it away, and that shit would mess my life up so bad that I would rather live with some pain. I mean, I will take everything short of it. The pain of having these bones stabbing into my nerves all up and down my back is such that I end up spending the night in the hospital without pills.

Luckily, I live in a town with a free hospital.

I get less than 600 a month on social security and 150 in food stamps. This is not enough to pay half of my utilities most months, let alone new shoes ... The converse I have on my feet are full of holes.

I am kind of used to living a very non materialistic life, and take a certain pride in my ability to let go objects.... But lately I have found myself unable to afford something that I desperately need--the money to continue sending off my stories, canvases to keep painting, and the money to get to all of my doctor appointments,





Now, anyone who has been reading me for awhile knows that I am often begging my readers for only two things -- open minds, and hamsters. Sorry to add a third, for now... The money will be used to finance my room divider business, which I know can take off if I can get the space and materials that I neeed, but if I apply for an arts grant, they cut off my social security... No win for the poor.



So, here is how the ad reads.


Disabled fine arts painter and novelist broke his back a few months
before graduating. Please help. 773-973-5095/ 1333 West Fargo 3-s
60626. For an example of my work see http://theelvesattic.ebloggy.
com


Bad Ad. So today, I rewrote another and put that in also, saying that I could use any kind of assistance, even old paint and stuff. I gave them addresses to both this site, and the new elves attic site, which I am going to try to make as funny as possible tonight, because the reader comes out tomorrow. I even put my address in there, like it matters.... Because I hope to get money sent to me.... Money orders please, or boxes of paint, or gift certificates to THE ART STORE, or grocery stores or canvases I can paint over or.... Any kind of writing job would be cool, too... I can write very funny commercials, and am a great MC. I developed that talent doing weekly shows last year.

So, if you can help, fine. I am sure I will muddle along without any help. There is also the paintings that you could buy, or even order 8 by tens of anything from me and I will frame them and sign them and send them back for twenty bucks.

I have no room right now to finish a room divider I am trying to paint, and my bad back makes moving it a bitch. This would be a booming business if I got it going. I talked to designers, store owners, etc... There is a huge demand and they would love to have someone who doesn't mind painting in the scheme the decorator comes up with. So far I like painting dark, brilliantly lit Chicago nights with skies filled with stars and great puffy clouds tinged by a yellow moon. Mot that I am so great at this yet. I need to do a series of paintings. I presently live half a block from the lake, so I could go there and paint if I could get my easel down there.

So, once more, the reason I am asking for donations (tax deductible) from you, as a patron of the arts, is so that I may remain stable enough to keep producing those occasional laughs I give you. I mean, unless something changes, M. Is going to sell me to some Korean guys who are going to force me to paint landscapes for those STARVING ARTISTS sales that are advertised not so cleverly everywhere....

So, that list of things you can send (and remember, people are getting money donated for breast transplants and shit, so you will helping to fight a deadly trend of giving where it is not needed). I am also willing to paint any of your animals that you ask. I will do this in my own way, but I will do my best to make them beautiful. Just send the picture, a canvas or the money for one of a specific size, and any dominant colors that you want in the back ground. I will do the same for people. I am very much like an art deco drawerer when it comes to paintings, though,.

Thanks again for reading me. And by the way, most of the donations you send will NOT GO FOR WEED. We use the utility money and food budget for that.

HAVE A DAY WHERE YOU DO NOT EVEN SEE ONE PILE OF DOG SHIT ON THE SIDEWALK.






so, send money orders, paint and brushes, old drawing pads, pencils, gift certificates or whatever you can afford to pay of what you think I deserve for all this writing and painting.

john scott ridgway
1333 West Fargo 3-S
Chicago, IL 60626

johnsridgway@yahoo.com


Thank you .... and don't feel weird if you can't send anything, okay? I am am usually too poor to give a hand out too.





ALL WRITING IN HERE IS THE PROPERTY OF JOHN SCOTT RIDGWAY, AND YOU CAN GET MY PERMISSION TO PERFORM AND REPRINT WITH AN EMAIL. Steal from me and you will be cursed in such a way that your hands turn into worthless, jelly fish like appendages that sting your intimates.

MASSAH JACKOFFYOURSON WOWS COPS BY BLOWING LLAMA!!

Massah jackoffyourson allegedly staved off a child molestation accusation in 1990 with a $2 million payment to the son of an employee at his Neverland Ranch, according to a television report, which went on to say he also paid out another fifty three dollars to the family of a neighborhood pig, who refuses to be identified because he is afraid he will be labeled, quote, 'another one of massah jackoffyourson's washed up, ex-celebrity, rubba bubbas... like one of them corey's.'

The television news magazine, Grapevine on JPC, which reported the payment in a segment to be broadcast Friday night, did not disclose its source of information, though it is suspected they merely went to a jackoffyourson fan sight and checked out the section where the kids took polls on things like, "Did you enjoy massah jackoffyourson's mouth on your anus?"

The poll was taken by over three hundred children, and seemingly not one was into anal ligulas.In the segment, a retired Santa Barbara County Sheriff, said his office investigated Jackson in 1993 in connection with one boy's claim and came upon the second accusation. The ex sheriff spit repeatedly on the ground as emphasis of his disgust as he told reporters, "Yea, we knew he was a chicken chaser from way back, just couldn't get none of the parents to let them kids talk, not after getting to be millionaire's all sudden and signing away their rights. These are poor people who he victimizes, ones he can actually impress with all his fancy surgeries and highly advanced oral sex techniques on llama's and chimps. You think he can sing? You should see how he blows llama! You gotta respect something like that a little, but the kids? Now, if I had arrested him, I'd of shoved his sick, pus dripping ass out of my squad car when I was doing about ninety, and then turned around and run him over a couple times, then shot the hell out of whatever was left for trying to flee from a police officer.

"The first boy reportedly was paid $15 million to $20 million by massah Jackoffyourson to avoid what the jaskoffyourson's attorney's claim was an 'allegation' that would damage massah jackoffyourson's career even if proven untrue. Which is of course just another lie from their putrid lips, because, as all people not on the jaskoffyourson's payroll will now admit, it could only be good for massah jackoffyourson's career to just once be proven not guilty of molesting children, which is of course, impossible....Reporters laughed in the beak of jackoffyourson's press agent when the talking parrot dressed in leather chaps told them, "Massah Jackoffyourson denies, ark . . . ever harming any child. . . . and is… Rubba, let's all do shots and play rubba... ark, cracker... is currently fighting charges he molested a boy in 2003. He says he can, lie and buy his way out … ark... he owes me a lot of crackers... ark... for shitting in his mouth, like he demands... ark, crackers."Jackoffyourson is reported to have stated repeatedly that he was going to, quote, 'bitch slap that damn charge,' though his attorney has tried to explain to jackoffyourson that this is impossible, his efforts to get jackoffyourson to understand the nature of the rule of law was purely in vain. He's obviously....ark...a lot dummer than me, a goddamn parrot... ark...do shot! Rubba!!! Crackes..."

His attorney, the Scum Sucker, as his closest call him, went on to say, "My theory is, he thinks these kids are baby llamas. Arck... doesn't matter to me though, win or lose, I get paid a fucking barrel of money!!!! I'll say or do anything!!! Hell, if I hadn't shirked legal responsibility for all of my kids, ..ark... he could rubba them for this kind of money!! Ark!
The retired sheriff interviewed on the newsmagazine, stupid shit that happens, told reporters, `We always believed there were eight to 10 other children out there.'' ``

The sheriff also said that the employee's son did not file charges and didn't want to testify, saying, " He was afraid his friends would think he was a homosexual, or even worse -- a pig fucker or a llama blower or a chimp eater outer, or a parrot but lickerm or ... Well, quite frankly the kid went on and on -- two officers vomited half way through... Let me tell you, buddy, it is just pitiful what that freak does to those animals. He has leather costumes for those damn llamas... hell, the pigs, too. One pig he dresses up like Elvis all the time, even has a black pompadour he pastes on it’s head. He claims that he has captured Elvis’s soul in the pig, by some ritual he made up with peanut butter and banana sandwiches -- which were indeed the king’s favorite, so we are also investigating the possibility that the king lives, and may have, god forbid, been sodomized."The retired sheriff has previously discussed the boy's claim, but said he wasn't sure until the GRAPVINE report that massah Jackoffyourson had paid the boy $2 million.``stupid shit that happens'' said the settlement contained a clause barring it from being discussed publicly.The sheriff said the 12-year-old accused Jackson of ``fondling him through his clothes,'' which could be the basis of misdemeanor charges. No charges were ever filed because officers on the scene were too busy eating the free donuts and pizza and watching jackoffyourson perform amazing oral feats on both a lusty llama and a bi-sexual yak.J

ackson, 45, has pleaded not guilty to committing a lewd act upon a child, administering an intoxicating agent and conspiring to commit child abduction, false imprisonment and extortion -- as well as a series of sodomy charges on a list of animals that would make the Los Angeles Zoo green with envy. His trial is set to start Jan. 31, 2005. Not so president, when he heard that jackoffyourson would still be in possession of his children, went on telvevision with an impassioned speech calling for any al queda sleeper agents to never, ever blow up massah jackoffyourson. Democratics responded, "Oh, his asinine attempt at reverse psychology is not going to work."Not so president responded to democratic charges by saying, "How the hell did they find out about reverse psychology? Find me that damn press leak... now!!! Have the cia kill them with paper clips, a slow death from a thousand points of paper clips... Yea, I like that there sound of words there... A thousand points of paper clips... Might work for torturing them camel riding yahoos, too. Now, tell me again, just what the hell were we talking about.

Massah Jackoffyourson recently renamed his never, never land ranch to simply, "No I Never, Never Played No Rubba With their Cute Little Asses Ranch."

When asked by reporters what the fuck is up with the new name, jackoffyourson responded, “My attorney thingy, he says I mean don keys¦ What, oh.. No, donkeys. They have cute asses. You ever stick your head in a donkey's ass? It's all warm and juicy, like Jiz Taylor's pee pee thingy."

At that point Jackoffyourson was led away by a parrot, who could be heard by reporters saying, over and over as he lured the reluctant jackoffyourson away from the spotlight and into an awaiting limo filled with children, "The children in the limo are getting cold. Arrk. The Children in the limo are getting cold!"

ALL WRITING IN HERE IS THE PROPERTY OF JOHN SCOTT RIDGWAY, AND YOU CAN GET MY PERMISSION TO PERFORM AND REPRINT WITH AN EMAIL. Steal from me and you will be cursed in such a way that your hands turn into worthless, jelly fish like appendages that sting your intimates.

a joint tween my lips, hot coffee to sip, and a cigarette burning away in the ashtray..

ALT="Scott">

ALT="Scott">



I have been filled with burning questions lately. Mostly about the acid that I spilled on my groin (oh just don't even fucking ask how, alright--though trust me, never try to remove a tattooed pet name from your penis just because you think you have a better one....


I didn't tell M. this is what happened right? I'm safe putting it in here because M. doesn't read my writing. She says, kindly enough, that she would rather just hear me perform the better, more polished stuff, but I suspect this is really symptomatic of her hatred of what she often refers to as, '...ceaseless babbling." I mean, she has even called my lectures to the hamsters ceasless babbling, so you know how wrong she is about this.


You readers are like the people I am having a mental affair with. Like Jack Nicholson said once when he was asked if he lied to women and he answered, taking the cigar out of of his smiling, sunglass dominated face, "I don't lie to the one who I am having the affair with."

I know that feeling all too well from short forays in my past into sanctified, matrimonial beds not of my building -- GO AHEAD, ADD ADULTRY TO THE LIST OF REASONS I AM GOING TO YOUR SILLY LITTLE, OH SO BORING HELL.

Anyways, I am merely sitting at these keys because it is easier than working on the book, at the moment, and someone suggested a topic that I should write about, which I wanted to get down in here.... for present or future exegesis? There is presently another rise in apocolyptic thinking. Gee, what's with that?

I once tried to explain to an atheist prof. that just because there have been groups since the beginning of time declaring that the world was going to end with them still around -- saved by an easter bunny drawn in a sleigh with reindeer -- that this hardly did not mean that we were indeed in the end times.

Not that I think of End Times like suspicious boofs, of course. I look the world and see shit no god would have done, and in this godless world some things are real. The environment being the biggest one.

By the way, there is now some controversy going on with my dead beat boyfriend status. I mean, I get a little money, but nothing like what I could earn working, and my health keeps me from contributing much to the housework. So you can imagine how different M.'s mother in law and my dear mum view my life's lot. I can go from 'da bum' to the struggling artist by dialing various numbers on my phone, I suppose.
















ALL WRITING IN HERE IS THE PROPERTY OF JOHN SCOTT RIDGWAY, AND YOU CAN GET MY PERMISSION TO PERFORM AND REPRINT WITH AN EMAIL. Steal from me and you will be cursed in such a way that your hands turn into worthless, jelly fish like appendages that sting your intimates.