by Travis Mateer
Does Travis two-point-oh look sad? Maybe that’s because our BIG PLANS to promote my ECLIPSE THEIR BULLSHIT event on campus had to be aborted due to students taking class outside and kinda being pricks about saying my loud presence would disrupt them.
I had been planning this outreach for weeks, so was a little miffed at how condescendingly the adjunct wage-slave “professor” lectured me about how LITTLE they needed the information I had about local corruption and their compromised safety.
Instead of potentially triggering these sad little creatures who better try REALLY HARD to avoid getting raped in this town, I called the University of Montana police chief to confirm that, had I wanted to, I absolutely COULD HAVE used my free speech rights, but because of my respect for this particular man of the law (and I’m not being sarcastic, Brad is a good guy), I told him I was choosing to lug my heavy marketing pal back to my truck and relocate to downtown, where I knew a certain location would GUARANTEE my right to free speech would be protected.
I got amped with my megaphone and spent some time announcing my intentions to provide amazing feats of trash alchemy on April 8th, but by this point my voice was getting strained. I guess it took a lot of vocal energy to speak VERY LOUDLY in the phone with the police chief about how I was trying REALLY HARD to not trigger these sensitive students who were in close proximity to where I was filing my butthurt report. I hope they didn’t find THAT disruptive.
If I had more time on campus, perhaps I could have explained WHY a replacement Travis two-point-oh might be necessary. Since the University helped me develop such phenomenal rhyming skills, I recorded this tune before heading to campus and posting yesterday’s post:
I read this poem, sans ukulele, at Imagination Brewery yesterday, preempting my performance with a little history about the West Broadway Island and my warning that it would become a tweaker’s paradise. Then I told the small audience about collecting trash, performing poetry, and where that poetry might be read, but where is the trash going to go?
A dumpster would be the obvious answer, but placing a dumpster might prove too difficult, so I’m considering PLAN C, which is picking a SECRET city property location to dump the trash. To make this a little more entertaining, I used my public comment time to tease City Council last night after waiting for the public comment time at the END of the meeting.
Here’s my comment:
While I was in the midst of trying to get this cleanup organized, I got a really funny email appeal from the Clark Fork Coalition. It was one of those appeals that uses your first name to try and make it appear that it’s NOT some standardized communication going out to their email list.
Here’s the thing, I think this email is correct: the river DOES NEED ME, but not in the way our narrative controllers desire. No, what the river needs is some basic CAN-DO action, like what I demonstrated last spring, which I highlighted recently in this post about police priorities making vigilantism inevitable.
Did I tell you so? Yes, I fucking told you so. But you can’t get to a retarded future without ignoring people like me who know what they’re talking about and want to STOP the process of retardation before it’s too late.
Am I being too hard on these college students indoctrinated by a sick society in the process of falling apart at the seams? Probably. I guess they’ll just have to find out the hard way that everything they’re being taught is a clever deception.
When my friend Lisa was hit and killed by a drunk-driving college student during our first year of college, I took it pretty hard and left school for a year. When I traveled to Spokane for a wedding, I stopped in Missoula with my girlfriend and, after a nice lunch in town, we decided to move here. That was 24 years ago.
Now that my oldest kid is just a few years away from being college-aged, I’m acutely aware of how worthless a college education has become, and I will be encouraging my kids to NOT waste their money on a University education like what I received at UM from 2000-2003.
The education our youth need can’t be taught in institutions because ALL our institutions are corrupt, especially the ones that operate within the criminal justice system. That’s why a masturbating Californian trespassed from our public bus system gives NO FUCKS about going back on a public bus, whipping his dick out, and sexually gratifying himself in public.
From the link:
Cox entered a bus he knew he was permanently trespassed from and committed an offense therein, namely indecent exposure. Cox then stated, “When are we going to the center, Juvenile Detention Center.” The officer realized this statement was made after Cox saw an underage female speaking to a School Resource Officer nearby.
Court documents stated Cox then said, “Get that chick in here. We’re gonna get that chick. Come in here with me.” Cox then asked if the “red-haired chick will come with me to jail.” The officer advised that the female would not be accompanying Cox to the jail.…
Cox has a pending felony Criminal Mischief charge in Montana’s Fourth Judicial District Court from an incident on March 22, 2024. That matter is set for an Initial Appearance on Monday, April 8, 2024. Cox also has several felony convictions, including a conviction for felony Stalking out of California in 2001, a conviction for Threaten Crime with Intent to Terrorize out of California in 2008, and a conviction for Assault on a Law Enforcement Officer out of Washington in 2023.
Yep, while dudes whack off on public buses, and oblivious college students get educated, I’m doing my best to continue raising the alarm that this town (and ALL towns in this retarded country) are facing a continuing breakdown of the criminal justice system, like this link from a tweet I reposted clearly indicates:
Not only am I trying to raise the alarm about societal collapse, I’m also trying to police my own behavior so I don’t slip into the creepy professor cliche myself, something you can see on full display at the Union Club where all the greys (older men) like to stand around staring at the college coeds on the dance floor.
To help bolster my resolve, I wrote this little ditty before having the most delightful Easter lunch with a kick-ass woman. Maybe the masturbator should try some journaling instead of publicly gratifying himself on a bus, which seems to be becoming a pattern in Missoula.
If you appreciate the work I’m doing, Travis’ Impact Fund (TIF) could really use a little love. It’s been 24 days since my last donation, so how about it?
Thanks for reading!