Clue-by-Four: Ramblings of a Jock Dork

The Clutter Singularity (part 3): Own your very own MJT!

Posted in Clue x Fours and Other Tools of Sanity by Wingnut on April 14, 2010

For Sale: [Scary that this cost less than my truck]

As I look down upon millions of people [No, I’m not God…I only play God on my iPhone], I find it comical that, with so many people around, few can find relationships that “work”. Those that do are often only “functional” and with little true happiness. One source of this has to be that too many people have moved to higher and higher levels of junk.

We’ve already discussed the first three junk levels where a person still has a reasonable chance of snapping out of it with a little help from others and/or developing awareness and insight into their own thoughts, feelings, and behaviors. However, as we move into the final three “junk levels”, we’ve reached a point where only serious external help will have any prolonged impact.

So, as I soar above the clouds [physically…mentally, my ego is not on planet Earth] and root against the Red Sox from 30,000 feet1, let us look at our last three stages of junk.

Municipal Junk Truck – For some people, it’s not enough to have overflowing, rotting piles of junk at home. There are those among us who just have to carry our junk with us…everywhere and, when the opportunity arises, dump that junk on top of everyone else. This is not to be confused with people who need assistance [These are people at any of the first three levels of junk. A friend who just lost their job, for example]. Those people are, at least, mostly harmless. The MJT’s are people who constantly need to involve others in their junk and drag everyone into the growing vortex. And, they will dump this junk on anyone…this includes random strangers [we all have at least one experience with this person].

Now, this can be a temporary condition during a time of great strife.2 However, there comes a point where what is being dumped has exceeded the smell limits of the average person’s olfactory nodes. [I have, sadly, been guilty of this and, to those friends still buried under the junk of 1999, 2000, 2005 (the ex-wife years), 2006, and 20083, I have sent and excavation team has been dispatched and hopefully, they will dig you out soon]

Trasformer or still smells!

People are often in full denial that they are driving around in their junk truck. In their psyche, it has been neatly disguised as a Bumblebee Camaro4. But, rest assured, every one of your friends and family can hear you coming from miles away. Example: “Oh, great. Here comes AR (Angry “R”) again,” you say to your immediate companion. “Crap, he’s spotted us.”  AR proceeds to come over complain non-stop about how women are bitches and how all women ever do is lie and cheat. This goes on for hours. All the while, he’s busy being crude and disgusting to any female inside a 50-mile radius [Thankfully, “Not Jerri Ryan” slapped him senseless one night. No, it didn’t shut him up, but it was funny to watch].5

At least when it’s someone you know,there is going to be a certain familiarity with the situation and, hopefully, how to handle it. With AR, for example, you learn to avoid prolonged exposure and decline his friend requests on Facebook. [I do recognize, however, that, sometimes, the MJT you know can provide a more difficult challenge. For example, best friend says “Hi, I’d like to introduce you to my mistress”6].

Total strangers drive “stealth” trucks. You can be minding your own business and, all of a sudden, you discover junk being dumped on you by a truck that snuck up while you weren’t looking. This can be truly disturbing:

Random Guy: How do you like the dog park?

Hot, Dog Park Girl: I love coming here. It’s so relaxing to get out with Boomer and let him run.

RG and HDPG have a casual, your kind of cute conversation, for the next minutes. She has no idea that his truck is parked off her left shoulder at a distance of about three inches. Then…

Random Guy: I…I…(He starts CRYING!!!)

HDPG: ?!?!?!?!?!?!

RG (now BAWLING!): I’m sorry. My parents just died. WAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!

HDPG: ?!?!?!?!?!?!


HDPG slowly backs away, prepping Boomer with the “Sick Balls” command.7

In retrospect, I think it should be perfectly permissible to exit that awkward moment at a full sprint, without explanation (Sort of..”Excuse me…” and VRRRRROOOOOOOOMMMMM).

Look, it's your pimped out Mercedes. Waiting just for you.

It often takes heavy therapy or an intervention to make someone “see” his/her truck. BBBBsdut, if you happen to be the one with the truck, then you need to be aware of something. Remember all of those times you’ve made fun of o  others who can’t handle their junk…guess what? That’s right…you have become the Amy Winehouse of your c ircle of friends.8 The question is, will you go to “Rehab” or will you just call it “Fuckery” and hop back into your “Mercedes”?

They keys are in the ignition.

NOTE: In the next installment, we learn to recycle our junk [Level 5] and then how our junk is responsible for Global Warming [Level 6].9


  1. If it was safe to spit on Kevin Youkilis from 30,000, I would in a heartbeat.
  2. Someone said that this sentence is just a way to excuse my junk…yes, yes it is [TY again P and F].
  3. Anyone who knows me knows that, within seconds of getting my heart broken, I have keys in hand and am firing up the ignition on my truck. Yes, a break-up is potentially temporary junk, but the behavior to talking about it incessantly is not.
  4. I call mine an Avalanche and I swear it transforms.
  5. AR has a bad tendency to tangle with hot, 22-year old Borg.
  6. For the record, my best friend has never said this.
  7. Oh, you haven’t seen Sandlot?!?!? Excuse me a moment [letting dog off leash]. “Chopper, SICK BALLS”
  8. And, I think we can all agree that NOBODY wants to be Amy Winehouse.
  9. I have taken a great liberty here of breaking this into smaller chunks. The reason…I want you to keep reading.

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  1. […] “Junk” is *Looked at Baggage, Trashcans and Other Junkmeres (First 3 levels of junk) *Purchased our very own Municipal Junk Truck * And visited the Junk Recycling Center Now, for the final level of junk. The Great Pacific […]

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