Anthony Dirk Ray

I recently found out about

a study that was done

that ranked my city as

the 3rd most miserable city

in the entire United States.

it drew on the Gallup-Healthways

well-being index for its data.

(whatever that is)

it used statistics from

crime

poverty

education

mental and

physical health.

in the Gallup survey,

my fine city’s residents 

were more likely to say

that they were

sad

angry

worried or

depressed

than those in most any other area.

for multiple years in the past,

my city has had one of the highest

crime rates per capita in America.

one year even being called the

‘murder capital of the country’

with the population taken into account.

my city was ranked

as one of the worst

in the nation

for both

emotional and

physical health.

well it’s good to know

I’m not alone,

that I’m just a product

of my downtrodden and

forlorn environment.

thank you Gallup,

for your reassurance…

Richard and Bob finished a grueling, sun-baked, slave laboring day on the job and headed to their after work watering hole.  Bob would always say that whiskey and beer is the best medicine to get the taste of the day out of your mouth.  They pulled on the small, nondescript pub door and it was locked.  Richard pointed out a sign that read…

To our loyal customers who know Billy like family:

We regret to inform you that Billy has suffered a major heart attack.  Bill’s Swill and Fill will be closed until further notice.  We apologize for any inconvenience.  The family has set up a GoFundMe account for any donations for his medical treatment.  Please call Debra at the bar’s number for the info, as the phones are now forwarded to her.  Thank you for your understanding.  We look forward to serving you in the future.

“Well fuck,” Bob squawked.  “What the shit are we gonna do now?  I don’t want to go home and drink.  The old lady and those screaming bastards are there.”

Richard, the brains of the two, said, “Just hold on man.  I’m thinking.”

Richard pulled his phone out and typed, ‘bars near me’.  A plethora of options appeared, with only a few within 5 miles.  He scoured the listings near the top and said,

“Bingo.  Todd’s Place is only a mile away.  It says that they have beer specials and their happy hour doesn’t stop until 7 p.m.  I say we go there.  Whatcha say?”

Bob looked at him with wide eyes and exalted,

“Shit, all beer is special to me, and if I’m drinkin, then I’m happy.  Let’s go.”

They each pulled up to Todd’s Place.  It was a fairly unremarkable establishment on the edge of town with hardly any cars out front.  The two headed in.  When they opened the doors, classic rock was playing and a haggard blonde woman was tending the bar.  They took a couple of empty stools and asked about the specials that were advertised on the internet.  She gave some spiel about all their beer being fresh and cheap.  They ordered a pitcher of draft and started in on it.  Looking around, they noticed a few men sitting by themselves at the bar, a man and woman in a booth snuggling, and two guys sitting fairly close on the opposite bar.  Bob was the first to speak up and said,

“Looks like we gotta coupla blades over there.”

“Blades?” inquired Richard.

“Gay blades.”

“Don’t let them bother you Bob.  Just drink your beer.  Hell, I thought you were supposed to be happy.  Let them be.”

“Look at them all cozied up to one another.  Laughin and whisperin like some fairies.  Makes me fuckin sick.”

“Stop Bob.  There ain’t no need for that.  Just drink up man.  What’s your thoughts about Jimmy getting to run the 300 ton crane?  Think he deserves it?”

Bob didn’t acknowledge Richard’s attempt to change the subject.  He just kept downing pint glasses and looking at the two across from him.  Richard couldn’t understand why Bob was getting so agitated. The two of them sat in silence for another fifteen minutes until Richard said,

“Hell man.  I’ve had my fill.  Let’s get home.  You ready?”

“Naw.  I ain’t done here.  I got some drinkin to do.”

“You should probably leave with me man.”

“I said I ain’t done drinkin.  Leave if you want to leave.  I’ll seeya at work tomorrow.”

Richard hesitantly left.  Bob continued stewing and slugging away at his beer.  Another twenty minutes passed and Bob’s pitcher was drained.  The worn blonde asked about a refill, but Bob told her that he was good.  The two guys opposite to Bob paid their tab and got up to leave.  Bob quickly got the attention of the disheveled blonde and paid as well.  He was probably ten steps behind the two of them as they walked hand in hand, slightly stumbling, headed to their car.

“Queers!” Bob yelled at them from behind.

The attention of the two guys were now completely on Bob and his derogatory slur.  The contemptment and happiness of the two were now fleeting memories.

“Fuck you old man,” one of them said, as he turned to face Bob. 

“Let’s just go. He’s just a dumbass drunk,” said the other, trying to pull him back by his arm.

Bob immediately saw red and was on them hastily, swinging, punching, kicking, and spitting. When he emerged from his rage-filled state, Bob was left standing over bloody and beaten piles of flesh, spilled onto the concrete.

Once back at home, Bob washed the blood from his hands, got a beer from the fridge, and sat in silence for about ten minutes, contemplating the previous events. He walked to the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. He absolutely loathed what he saw, and couldn’t believe what he had just done.  Tears began to well up in his eyes. 

He then unlaced the tops of his work boots, just enough to remove them, took off his faded flannel work shirt, weathered blue jeans, and dingy white socks. 

However, he left the red lace thong on. He loved how the little frilly edges tickled his ass cheeks, and how the middle string hugged the buttplug.

Anthony Dirk Ray

when I did roofing work

I would occasionally have

to work out of town

this time it was Lafayette Louisiana

on my first night there

I left the job site and

headed to my hotel

I had to stop and get

some groceries and whiskey

trying to turn left into the store

from the turning lane was proving

to be an impossible feat

traffic kept coming

like a never ending metallic snake

I was getting extremely agitated

my blood pressure rising by the second

after approximately 10 minutes

I was finally able to turn

once in the store I bought

the few items I needed

and went to check out

when I finally was face to face

with the cute black cashier

I recalled a news story and said to her

“I heard that Lafayette was voted

the happiest city in America”

she smiled proudly

beaming from ear to ear and said

“yes, yes we were”

with a stone-like grimace and scowl

I looked into her eyes and said

“I really don’t see how with

all this goddamned traffic”

I left her in a deflated state

reeling from my contempt

later in my room

I laid in the bed

sipping whiskey from a

plastic hotel cup

and smiled

today I got some Americanized

Chinese food for lunch

as always it was inedible right away 

due to the scorching temperature

despite being on the counter

and ready when I arrived

they must cook with volcanic lava

the food eventually cooled to a

consumable state and was ingested

after I was finished eating

I opened the fortune cookie

I thought

what golden tidbit of knowledge

will they bestow on me today

when I read it I could not

believe what I was seeing

I thought

surely this must be a cruel joke

the small piece of paper read…

today means action

carry out your plan

“holy shit” I said aloud

I hope a psychopath doesn’t 

receive this same fortune and think

‘it’s a fucking SIGN man’

(Originally published by Horror Sleaze Trash)

as this whiskey coats my throat

swells and scars my liver

as the cigar smoke expands

cooks my mouth and hardens my heart

I’m reminded of all the dissatisfied

that came before me

never did what they wanted

refused happiness for whatever reason

all in the guise of tradition or fear

afraid to say the wrong thing

scared to take that drink

or do that drug

petrified to fuck

or fuck who they want

trying not to let a deity down

not disappoint a loved one

make a good impression on a stranger

live a long life

or all of the above

at the same time

you have only one life to live

and it is up to you

how you live that life

some feel living a life of fear

and cautiousness is rewarding

but others crave the unknown

live for the different states

feel free when actions and

speech are not hindered

a tightrope of sorts

existence balanced

still

some fly

yet

some fall

I was at work today

dying slowly in the massive

soul-sucking sauna

also known as a warehouse

I was about to step foot

inside the office to bask

in the orgasmic air conditioning

when I heard two female voices

out back behind thin roll up doors

I walked over to see what two

fifty-something crackheads talk about

it started off innocent enough

with one wretched degenerate 

telling the other to eat something

“I ain’t hungry!

Mike asked me if I wanted a 

burger and I told him no”

the other’s response was

“you are so far up 

his ass it’s pathetic”

I was expecting something

about this Mike character as a retort

but was not prepared to hear what came next

the crackhead that is presumably up Mike’s ass said

“I could tell you something right now

but you would think I was crazy”

a slight pause

“go ahead then, tell it”

“I’ve got people living in my mattress

not under my bed

but inside my mattress

my kids said if I come home

they are gonna put me in the hospital

…they think I’m crazy”

I turned to go inside the office and 

politely with the utmost respect whispered

“oh bitch, you are”

HSTQ: Summer 2020

today was hot

when I say hot

I mean profoundly hot

July in the south probably causes

more suicides than Wall Street

I dripped sweat from every pore

soaking my shirt and

sweat rags correspondingly 

I haven’t had a drink in a few days

but toxins I had no idea I had

came exiting from my body exponentially 

bewilderment and fatigue

are prevalent feelings

irritability at a goddamned maximum

I had to take a detour on the ride home

due to an accident on the interstate

I was redirected through downtown

where I sat in traffic on

Government for about a half hour

inching forward from light to light

I did see a man on a bench

either preaching a sermon

or singing the blues

I thought

this fucker is either crazy

or has it all figured out

part of me felt sorry

part of me envied him

when I finally got home

I started dinner and fed the dog

I poured a cask strength bourbon

and toasted a cigar my neighbor

gave to me as a gift

it wasn’t bad at all

a little tight on the draw but 

a free cigar is just that

my stepson and wife got home and

I went to give my wife a kiss

she shook her head in disgust

saying “I don’t want to kiss you

you taste like an ashtray”

I went back outside to finish

my stick and drink

she basically gave me an ultimatum

“if your ass wants kisses

then don’t smoke the cigars”

I think I will toast a Padron tomorrow

Anthony Dirk Ray

I want you to tell

me your story

even though

I know you can’t

birds don’t speak human language 

I can’t comprehend your speech

so it would be foolish to

think any differently

however, your story

is important to me

I’m just a lowly creature

on this planet with you

working for others

slaving away in the heat

living a life not fully my own

with only moments of reprieve

but you

red bird

live only by instinct

demands aren’t made of you

no questions are asked

you hear no lies

bills aren’t due

you are probably never stressed

I’m not even sure if

you sweat at all red bird

you haven’t an inkling

that I am envious 

you just continue on

doing what red birds do

atop the weathered shingles

and you can fucking fly

(Originally published by Horror Sleaze Trash)

headed to get groceries and

run errands with my wife

I notice the the gargantuan flag

at Camping World, where they

sell recreational vehicles is at half mast

this flag is the biggest

that I have ever seen

I ask my wife

“what happened, why is that flag at half mast?”

she doesn’t know

she hasn’t heard anything

I haven’t been keeping up

with the news lately myself

we get our groceries and 

on the ride home get to the intersection

of 59 and 90

where roughly thirty flags fly on poles

and none of those are at half mast

then it dawns on me that maybe

nothing at all had happened

maybe the workers at the r.v. place

are just too lazy to lift that

heavy ass goddamn flag

and to justify their said laziness

assume that another mass shooting

will happen soon enough

https://ryethewhiskeyreview.blogspot.com/2020/07/an-old-fashioned-contemplation-by.html?m=1