Texas – Austin Bunton Designs

This was quite possibly the worst place I have ever been, even when considering Iraq.

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Table of Contents:

Preface
Phase 1
Phase 2
Phase 3
1990s
2000s
2007-2016

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Preface:

Before I tell the full truth about this state, I will be objective, noting the things I found in it which were done well.

This is the state where I learned how to swim, ride a bicycle, design computer models in AutoCAD, and speak a little Latin and Spanish. I also learned Tae Kwon Do, basic swordsmanship, and Le Parkour here. The first roller-coaster I ever tried was at Six Flags Over Texas.

There are many outstanding restaurants and examples of well-planned architecture here, including many huge neighborhoods of mansions. The first world-class schools I attended were here; I started my aerospace engineering studies and military officer training in this state, and tried wake-boarding for the first time during the latter. My first two vehicles were purchased here, including my jacked-up off-roading Jeep –which I christened with a girl from DFW. Newer movie theaters are about as luxurious as they get. I learned fixed-wing piloting and skydiving tricks around Dallas. And with the high population (28 million; nearly 10% of the U.S. population), even at the current 1%-hot rate around the world, you are likely to see attractive girls just about anywhere you go. (Realistically, there are probably a quarter of a million of them, spread out through roughly 1,200 cities, 70 of which have 50,000 people in them; ~190 hot chicks per.)

My first two best and lifelong friends met me here, and we went on many adventures together. My first few girlfriends were from here, as well as a lot of flings. There are gigantic and impressive weekend street-races, too, and the first raves I partied at –including underground ones– were here; the dancers and other babes at both were out of this world. The theme-parks and water-parks are worth checking out (largely for the same reasons, though there are also record-setting roller-coasters), as are the hot-air balloon festivals and state fair. And if you’re into sports, Texas promotes the big ones even more than they do their latest religion –and you’ll always find tens in the bleachers spectating with their sugar daddies. There’s always something going on.

Texas is where I discovered the great bands Bush, Rammstein, Static-X, and those of the Mortal Kombat movie soundtrack. On this note of music (see what I did there?), I also learned how to sing and play some piano in this state. I even sang live to a huge audience as part of a performance at the Meyerson Symphony Center. I also saw in Fort Worth what was perhaps George Carlin’s last performance, and Fort Worth was where I ‘cut my teeth’ in project management with the Corps of Engineers, building and updating the schedules for billion-dollar ventures with thousands of inter-related tasks.

That being said, it is only right, prudent, and honorable to also talk about all the things that aren’t done well at all. All of what I just mentioned came at a high price, and I was seldom in a good mood during any of it, always knowing what was coming the moment the scattered fun experiences were put to an end. For all the good I managed to find and fight for in this state, there was a Hell of a lot of bad.

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Phase 1:

Texas was goddamn brutal. When I moved here as a child, I had no say in the matter, and it was in the middle of a super-messy divorce. I also got terrible asthma from the air quality; I’d moved from the rural forests and creeks of northern Virginia to the inner-city smog of Dallas. Though not as nightmarish as Houston and all that city’s suburbs, it was still like trying to breathe underwater for someone who’d grown up where I did.

My spleen was ruptured during a bicycling accident, and I narrowly avoided surgery and pills for life. It remained sore and borderline for years thereafter, and took all I had within me to recover from. If the surgeon had decided to remove it that one fateful day in the hospital, I would have never done even 1% of the things I’ve pulled off by today.

Everyone I was allowed (and required) to spend time with in this state was hard-core racist. You wouldn’t believe the shit they said. They also indulged heavily in blame-shifting, hypocrisy, and wasting every penny of the gigantic inheritance that once would have been for me. There was nothing left by the time I came of age, and absolutely no reason to stay.

I spent a decade enduring religious-fanatic asshole teachers holding me back every chance they could, and equally fanatic southern-baptist relatives losing their minds even over the fact that I liked to draw and stargaze. Yes, they got violently angry even at that. You can imagine how well they behaved for all the rest. Then there was all the drinking and smoking, and them trying to sneak pouring alcohol into our food half the time. Thankfully, I found a handful of teachers and friends here who weren’t utterly insane.

I was banned from listening to rock & roll, from having friends, from having girlfriends not arranged by the family, and from even having a door for my room; I came home one day to find it removed from the hinges and hidden. I had to sneak out to study and have any life at all. And then, after years of honors and advanced-placement courses, great grades, sports, and a Congressional appointment to the U.S. Naval Academy, my own blood lied about me to the authorities, terrorized and nearly broke apart my high-school sweetheart’s entire family, emotionally traumatized both me and all of them, and then I got screamed at by overgrown adult-bully government goons until my ears hurt. I was threatened with a lifetime of surveillance and even a lifetime behind bars, and for things that both 1) I had never done, and 2) weren’t crimes; everything between myself and my girlfriend was mutual, consensual, and approved as well as monitored by her outstanding parents. I’d never felt so ignored, disrespected, and violated as I did by the Texan authorities; tyrants, them all. Shame on their sorry excuses for souls.

That wasn’t even the worst of it, though; I was kicked out of high school during the 5th 6-weeks period right before final exams. It was my senior year, and again the dickhead teachers did everything they could to stop me from graduating. My flawless record was destroyed, my grades this period in the toilet, and my free-ride to Annapolis unrecoverable. It was a miracle I got out of that system and made it to any university at all.

Texas A&M sucked pretty hard, too; I endured far more than just routine hazing from another round of religious-fanatics –who were now my upperclassmen in officer training. Unannounced visits from my relatives resulted in strangers barging into my room and demanding to know why they were out in the halls crying or causing other problems I knew nothing about. Attempting to salvage the nuked and annihilated remains of the bond with my sweetheart and her family cost me all the spare time and gas money I could scrounge up. I even had my dorm door kicked in and nearly broken, the offending upperclassman rushing up to stand close enough to makeout with me, and angrily growling into my ear his extreme hatred for me for having gone to talk with student groups on campus that believed in anything other than his religion and denomination.

At a loss for words, I stopped studying, gave up on this college and officer program, and tried a nearby college for the next semester while I tried to figure out what else I could do. Even the military recruiters in this state were braindead untrained bold-faced liars; they told me there was no way I could even enlist, let alone become an officer. By the following year, I’d abandoned Texas entirely, making a one-way mad-dash to the coast where there was a chance I could, at least, survive with less crazed harassment and fewer threats.

I only ever snuck back a couple times, and always only because of necessity in extreme situations. When I got stuck here for a few years after the military, I was again harassed, lied, to, and betrayed by the local authorities, even when all I was doing was –just like before– studying, minding my own business, calling them for help, and doing things like going for walks in normal light clothing on lit sidewalks in nice neighborhoods. I felt like Anne fucking Frank the whole time, and could clearly see my honorable youth and military service meant nothing to these ‘people’ (more like ingrate monsters and freaks). I got slammed with scams, charges, fines, and violations of my Constitutionally-guaranteed rights; you name it, they did it to me.

There was a LOT more awful dark shit that went on in and because of this state, but I’ll just leave it for you to find in my first novel, if you really want to know. Texas is a fucking police state if ever there was one. It is Nazi Germany –or Nazi America, I suppose would be more accurate. I was one of the most exemplary people that ever came out of this hellhole, but no matter what I did or proved, I was always attacked, ignored, and extorted. I’m only surprised they didn’t try to murder me, although… actually, they did; several different doctors really did this, but again… that’s a long story you can find in my books.

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Phase 2:

Texas really got its shit pushed in back in 2017; Hurricane Harvey did more damage to this worthless evil shit-head state than the 11 September 2001 (a.k.a. 9/11) ‘attacks’ did to New York. The estimate was $180-200 billion, which is about 1/5 of the Texan economy. I couldn’t have been happier, and no state deserved it more than this one. Fuck Texas. And I’m sugarcoating here. You wanna know how I really feel? Sorry, guys; can’t be just one emotion all the time. Sometimes the other emotions are due.

A lot of businesspeople from this state have started contacting me about the various things they do. It’s mildly interesting, but I just can’t bring myself to give anyone else in or from this place the slightest chance in Hell. If they offered me billions and all their finest babes, I would still only barely consider accepting –at gunpoint, for my own safety. I’d feel a lot better if HAARP or other facilities finished what they started with Harvey back in 2017. Please, god. Please, fucking god.

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Phase 3:

In one of my later novels in the series, all civilization is swept clean from the face of the Earth, and what takes the place of the late Texas is an entirely new Texas-sized realm handed over to one of my lifelong friends and proven badasses who I know is right for the job. Only one city is built (or rebuilt, rather) here after that big ‘sweep’; all the crazies and their hyper-pollution are gone, giving the Earth and its natives a chance to finally heal and slowly move toward recovery after all the nightmares this bizarre group of people kept creating.

In other words, this third phase is the ideal time; the ‘Golden Age’, and I’ll know it when it starts because Texas will be gone, not even a memory in most of the remaining minds. If you think that’s extreme, or if you had a single positive experience in this beyond-evil place, you might be insane and in need of a memory check. Either that, or you’re the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet.

Anyway, Phase 2 has been me finally freed of fail-Texas, Texas getting its long overdue payback from Mother Earth and everyone else, and all the idiotic offers spewed forth from this place ignored right from the very wise start. Phase 3 is when I can finally return in true peace; it’s when all the bad that plagues this big part of the continent is forever removed, and a good leader, for once, installed as the king it was never before lucky (or worthy) enough to have. I find it very interesting how Phase 2 started with 1/5 of the Texas economy being wiped out by ‘a natural event’; in my stories, this occurred around the same time, though via a different method, so it seems to me we are finally approaching the point when the other 4/5 will be taken care of. I know a lot of heavily wronged and abused people who will breathe a great collective sigh of relief when Texas is no more.

Texas, shame on you, and good riddance. May no one remember your name, and may those you terrorized and decimated make full recoveries, rising to heights even your tyrannical regime could never muster with all your ogre-like minions, taxes, and fines.

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1990s

1st Country Club Mansion:

The Country Club:

Intro to Weapons:

Huffman, Shepton, and Plano West:

Hot Air Balloon Festivals:

Lakeside:

Singing at The Meyerson Symphony Center:

White Rock Creek:

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2000s

2001: Officer Training at Texas A&M University

2002: 2nd Country-club Mansion

(grandpa’s long-attic house by golf cliff)

This was where I found a trail or dirt road over to a giant mansion under construction, and at the park nearby… my friend and I set off a string of fireworks in a plastic tube slide, amplifying their explosion sounds… right next to a fire station.

The Country Club:

(cliff behind grandpa’s; “The Clubs of Prestonwood – The Hills”)