H Two Uh Oh.....

Chemistry..

Law...

one of those things I've never been good at.

Something bad has occurred, something really really bad.  Of course this is in reference to the situation that started back in March/April; for those of you who know about and have been following.  Yes, the situation is still going on, no I haven't heard anything new other than to just keep waiting.  Just keep waiting to get results back I know will further prove I didn't do anything.

Then life says, hold that thought....

This week work sent me to a class/workshop thing to learn about using a new program for our department.  It was a pilot course, but nobody really cares.  The main point is, not being at my normal place of work, I am sans all my stuff; desk full of goodies, snacks, water, etc.  That being said, knowing how thirsty I get on a daily basis, and knowing I wouldn't have access to anything like I normally would during the class, I made a walking out the door decision I'd soon regret...

As I made up my breakfast togo I remembered about the drink situation.  I looked around for any random Powerade bottles I still may be have hiding around; but recalled finishing those but a month after moving in here.  I make my way to the fridge and open the door - it's really awkward for me, I've never been a fan of having the freezer on the bottom.  Once open I scan the contents.  Food items, condiments, some milk, couple pony kegs of some Michigan love, more beer, a bottle of champagne I plan to pop once I get the results back and my name is cleared, fruit....

as my search starts dwindling down, my eyes slide over to a spot tucked away in the corner of the door...bottom shelf, almost hidden for the fact the door doesn't open all the way due to the proportions of the fridge versus the kitchen.   I catch two bottles of water tucked away, for not so obvious reasons I will make known now.  The larger bottle, one litre, is over a year old now, and has been resting in my fridge since an ill-fated day in September.  The night my little drummer girl was supposed to come over, a night that changed things for her.  I suppose I never got rid of that bottle because I could never let go of her; it represents something more; and if I were to remove that from my life, vicariously I'd be removing any possibility, any hope..I'd be removing her, forever...and I obviously don't want that (even given the current situation where that's exactly she wants).

The other bottle, smaller, has been snuggled along that larger bottle, though not as long - it came from a work outing, Family Fun Day; bounce houses, putt-putt, and good times. There were originally two bottles, maybe more but memory serves me to think two placed in my fridge for hydration, that I took home with me from that event.  Maybe another was left in my car or whatever, but two for certain stayed in the fridge.

All that remains is the one, because the other is involved in a conspiracy, a lie..(I really wish I could call it Watergate but that's already been taken...)  You see, the bottle that remains is the sister bottle to the bottle of water I gave a Maker of Shoes, the one whose flavor was flawed, the one I allegedly, though unopened, tampered.

Having no other options I made picked a dumb option;  I took the small bottle with the implication I'd get something from the PX on my break, as this water bottle would quickly disappear....or so I thought.

I make it to class, get settled into my workstation, and before the class even gets underway I crack open the bottle for a drink.  One taste is all it took for my mouth to reject the bottle, pulling my head away and twisting it with confusion to the left.  "What the fuck?" I said aloud, getting the attention of the student on my left.  With his eyes now fixed onto my doings I decide to try again, maybe I just had something in my mouth...but the results were the same.  I'm starting to panic.  I turn and pass the bottle to my left, asking the fellow student to "here, try this" and with no hesitation other than saying why as he puts the bottle up to his mouth, he tries it as well.  "It tastes...off"

There's nothing more than I want to do at this moment than run out of the classroom and leave...but that will do me no good.  And for the next three and a half hours my mind is not in that classroom, not on the information we are going over, but fixated on that bottle sitting in front of me..and everything it represents.

On my break I go back home where I have another person try the bottle...later that evening two more people try a swig...all stating the same thing, some more in-depth about the flavors, but the consensus stands...there's something wrong with the water.

The confirmation from the last sampler is enough to send my mind spiraling downward.  All these horrible thoughts run through my head, suddenly my unquestionable innocence is showing signs of contest.

If the sister bottle is anything like the bottle she drank, than yes, there's something wrong with it...what, I'm not certain..though I know it didn't make me or anyone else sick for that matter.  Of course I don't have any other bottle to test or have tested, and bringing in an opened bottle to test would cause some concern...

I just want this nightmare to be over..I just wish this would all end and go away...I wish she would talk to me..as this is my only way to talk to her..

Truth is like the sun...you can shut it out for a time, but it ain't going away... 

"Last time water was turned into something it was wine, you have nothing to worry about, you're fine..."

Them's Fighting Words..

what are ya...

...chicken?!

The troubles of ordering a twenty piece...

"At least I'm not a rapist!" is suddenly shouted over any other drum conversation, cheering from patio, bad music playing at this party. It's that scene in the movie where it drowns out everything, shuts up everyone, stops everything, even the music skips off track. It echoes...it echoes

Let me pause here for a moment. Those of you who know me, know I do not deal well with being attacked - physically, I can hold my own...but when it comes to words, it always leads to the physical. As "good" as I am with my words, it's not my preferred method to turn to. Sure, words have gotten me out of fights, but they have equally gotten me into them.

And just like Marty McFly, I cannot back down from certain provocations - funny how a character in one of my favorite movies of all time (all time!) learns his lesson, which should be the lesson we all learn from watching, but me..a big pile of 'nopes' is what you get.

I come from the south side of Chicago, chi-ca-ghetto - the heights, and sure it may not have been as bad as other areas, it was still an area wherein my elementary school practiced bomb threats and school shootings more than we did fire drills...and this was before it was "cool."

It was where men settled their differences like men; if you had problems, you solved them. That was the law of the land, the way things were as kids, the way things should still be today. People didn't hide behind things like the internet and police protection - wherein the law enforcement is actually protecting the wrong individuals, as seen in my plight with the O-city efftectives on Wednesday....or kinda like how SoCaliJoshi was first to talk shit, and yet when I confronted via messages how we could settle our discrepancies in person, he was quick to tell me how he was going to print out our conversation and take it to the police..charge me with harassment or threats or some other bullshit.

These later generations are producing more and more internet shit-talkers and bullies, yet, their flame war on their keys is as hard as they'll ever hit something. So keep on doing what you're doing, hiding behind those anorexic pictures, maybe one day they'll be man enough...

People will argue this with me, but I see nothing wrong with a good old fashioned fist-to-cuffs...I'm not saying you can't ever talk shit out - me the believer in communication - but sometimes, the only way to put someone in their place, is putting them there with a little physicality. I was spanked as a child, shit hurt, I'll do the same to my kids, I don't care what the law says..again, society going soft, creating soft individuals.

I've been in my fair share of fights..I've tried to get out of fights, I've tried to start fights, it's life. I'm not some wild hooligan that's always looking for a fight..wherein the slightest thing will set me off...Heck, even certain times I've been provoked I have walked away, it's just the timing or situation I guess.

Like this one time I was with my girlfriend and some angry guy was yelling at me in a parking lot - short story, his girlfriend was driving down the wrong way and I made no effort to get out of the way as it was clearly my aisle, may have even swerved close to teach them a lesson about paying attention...regardless. So this hot-head doesn't like my innocent lesson and decides he wants to take things to another level...he's cursing me out, running through cars and aisles trying to get to me as my girlfriend and I approach the store..

In response I do yell back things such as "Alright" "ok" "whatever" to show I have no interest in him or his cause. Well, he eventually makes his way to me and I just keep heading for the store, I don't have time for this guy...Then, out of no where he hits me from behind - hard enough to disengage my hand holding with the gf, and I fly forward, head down, almost toppling over, but luckily catch myself.

At that point of stopping my forward progression I realize what had just occurred, and in a hero-esque fashion, regaining my balance with my feet firmly planted on the ground, straighten my back, raise my head up, turn around, look the guy who's now a good ten feet away from me square in the eye, and with a chuckle I respond, "Really?" being finished with my half smirk.

I looked over to see my girlfriend wide eyed, and as I made the move extending my hand out to rejoin hers so we could continue with our shopping experience, the aggressor took off back running to his vehicle. I was dumbfounded by the whole situation, and kept asking her if that really just happened..she was in as much shock as I was, if not more, for I remember her stating, "I seriously thought you were going to lose your shit and I'd have to call an ambulance because you were going to kill that guy" and I remember replying frivolously,"He should be happy that he caught me at a rare time."

The asshole tonight would not be so lucky.

The straw that was in my drink moments ago, through the dissonance found its way to the backbone of Joe, who was, by then, on his toes about to fall over this whole ordeal. I don't recall much as it all went by so fast, yet, in the same token, probably played out in slow motion to me then. And after playing it back in my head, I swear it went both ways.

Maybe everything leading up to what I did next was in slow motion...from the time the words were said, to my action, time may have stood still..allowing those horrendous words that verbalized to channel through my ear cannel, bounce around in my brain - enough times for me to realize the gravity of the situation. I swear it repeated, I swear it played over it my head..not just the words some drunk dumbass spewed, but the whole situation..everything. I saw Detective Whatsherface there. I saw her in her monstrous form, badgering me like some sort of criminal. I saw all of my texts pleading for a response. I relived each and every one of those days that went by without an answer. Those passing seconds re-occupied the night of the alleged "incident". It was probably no more than three seconds but it felt like my life flashing before my eyes..and not necessarily my life, but everything that had been involved with this stupid incident.

I stood there paralyzed reliving the past; all the images, the emotions, just everything going by as slowly as it did the first time..floating in a sea of emotion, not really able to free myself...until eventually the playback caught up with the present, dep breath, and from there it went from slow motion to fast forward...before I knew it, I had reacted.

From what I gather, from my broken memory and pieces of the spectators, I retaliated with vengeance. "At least I'm not a rapist!" was spoken - there was a slight pause, the one I relived my life in, and then it was all over. The crowd instantly grew silent, the dj stopping the music to a screeching halt, while the kegs poured no more, mindless conversations whittled to nothing as all eyes were on me. As the crowd lived in their lifetime slow motion, I took a breath, lived mine, and brought the present up to speed quickly.

I turned, without any sense of recourse, without any care, i turned to face my attacker; but as i turned my fist was swinging. Again, this happened all to quickly. My clenched fist flew threw the air without any care of disposition - had it made contact with anyone at that point justice would have been served, however, luckily, no innocent by standers were harmed.

When those six words were shouted to me, it sounded like they were right next to me, whispering loudly in my ear. I pictured them being on the other side of the room due to the fact the person was a giant passive agressive pussy. But luckily for me, this time, as the perpetrator articulately staggered over those words, he also stumbled closer to me...this would be his downfall...actually, my fist would his downfall, his steps towards me were just stupid.

In one swift motion, my fist met his face with a sudden fury and rage...Everything must have been bottled up in that one shot because I didn't even move after that, not a single other punch was thrown, nothing. I connected with my right hand which contained every bit from the past two months I had been trying to hold onto....everything I just relived was put into that swing..everything I just relived in those 3 seconds was harnessed into leveling any falsities.

Apparently one punch was all it took for Mr. Glassjaw to be corrected. My right hook connected and he went down faster than a fat girl on prom night. After the punch I just stood there...I didn't straddle on top MMA style and give kill punches, I didn't spit in his face like some forfeiting father..it all happened too fast I want to think...but then again, maybe it was because of something else.

I destroyed more than just my opponent in that swing..I shut up more than just some asshole spurting out hate..I was putting an end to the lies..to this whole fucked up situation. That punch, that right fist, embodied the truth..and it silenced any slanderous accusations that were coming against me.

I'm going to continue fighting, because that's what I know to do...because it's easier to make up lies than believe in the truth..and if some fucked up person wants to say otherwise, well, there's gonna be hell to pay.

"I think he just took his wallet"

I Think I'm Supposed To Do Something

but I won't

so deal

I'm too tired to give any fucks...

This will be short and sweet..I've got some things I should (probably not) say..I guess I said some things last night in a phone call...and I've been like a train raping these jokes.

Quick story: Last night...ok, back it up some more...Sunday morning I woke up and said, I'm gonna need (want) a nightcap tonight..such a weird request, especially so early...well, much later I made good on my request to myself and conjured up a drink..a horribly made make-shift margarita..but I drank it regardless. Of course after finishing that one, I needed something to wash that flavor out, so I made another, a different drink.

So 1am rolls around and the movie a friend and I have been trying to watch goes on pause for the millionth time - I make some callback to a scene that happened half an hour ago..this conversation then rears into anal sex - again, don't ask me how it got in there, it just did. So as the debate goes on, I naturally go to my anal expert...an ex-gf that has on multiple occasions, and with multiple men, allowed herself to be penetrated in the caboose (I am on that very list..)

I know what you're thinking, it's a horrible idea, but nobody's stopping me and I'm not sure why...but maybe they will in the future after they see how things go down in the end...The call actually starts off nicely, I get and leave a voicemail..sure it's 1am here, but it's 4am on the east coast, makes sense. I'm rambling about this and that, all is well, until..I don't know exactly what it was, but something just clicked in my head..maybe my "nice" reserves had finally been sucked dry, I had given this former friend too many chances..trying to make things work...

As the last bit of compassion was drained from my affable canister in the first half of that voicemail conversation, my attitude had to start drawing from somewhere else...that would be the pit of real emotion I had been biting back on. I don't even recall a transition, it just switched gears without hesitation. I mentioned how this person defriended a friend of mine, but at least that friend got a message as to why..me on the other hand, was left empty.

From there my words were drenched in sarcasm, thanking her for stealing my dog, followed by insults, to my breaking point. Still holding back from really letting go, for the sake of the company I was in, end it with "You're a fucking cunt" *laughter* **hangs up** And as I put down my phone I repeated that fulfilling line finishing with "I hope she enjoys that" - words of love, punch drunk.

No surprise I never got a response, but I was able to get that out there. And I may sound like a complete asshole, but again, I'm too tired for this, so if she cries herself to sleep at night because of it, I won't lose any myself.

none.

"A: Well, what did she do that was so horrible?

M: She just wanted to be with me?"

Here

here...

you want this

here's your honest blog...

i even refrained long enough to do it in typcial jangus fashion...now excuse me while i vent.....FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK

this is fucking bullsiht. so much stupud shit...fuck...fuck you...are you serious?! this is what I am left for...i cannot make words....yes i'm all hapopy for you, but really?@ this is stupid..i mash my fingers onthe keyboard to get a response..yeah. him?2 you're joking right?q mother eff....i sit there and see two sides of the sprctrum..but who the fuck am i..i mean honestly...this is what you come up with..you really are no better than anyone else in my fucking life....just toss you to the side with every other whore i've known..because some how you find someone better than me in that ugly tabernacle called your boyfriend..well, fuck all that..your face angers me bitch

i said it@!!!~

"did i fucking stutter?!"

Good Mourning

wait..
but the brittish..

that changes the whole meaning of the word...

I feel as if the nail in the coffin just came slamming down..after feeling like I was hanging on by a thread..slowly but surely being removed from every aspect of the social media world..I hung onto one..thinking maybe, just maybe today would be a new day..that emotions would have settled down, that there would be some time for redemption..something. I awoke and saw i was still in the "green" so to speak..clinging on to that fact, clinging on to hope..

every bit of removal and blocking from those sites breaks me down more and more...this feeling takes me back to my childhood when I was thrown in the water. I panic. I struggle. I try to fight it off but nothing is making sense. Sheer terror runs through my veins..it's what takes place when oxygen is low I'm assuming. I kick my legs, flail my arms, fighting to stay above water..I'm gasping for air..I'm drowning..and there's nobody around who wants to save me

my mind is running a mile a minute, but i can't think about this or that, i can't think about hope or saving myself, the only thing i know is fear..

then I see that grey question mark and I start to sink..









"pending contact request..."

O.T.F.

One..
Time..

Fuuuuuck

Not DTF or DTET or DTDT or any other jazz, but OTF…if that's not a phrase, well it is now..that's right, you heard it here first, OTF, One Time Fuck. This, basically in a nutshell, is applicable to such females that are only good for one single event of sex. Now, in my defense I am unaware if such a thing exists in the female community directed towards males, so I will continue with my single-sidedness.

The One Time Fuck. It's really a difficult matter to discuss because it in itself is such a simple idea…basically there are the girls you marry and the girls you fuck..and as a sub-category for the latter, the girls that are only good for one fucking.

These are the girls that in someway intrigue the male species, the ones that maybe aren't their type…they consist of the extremists in most cases - i know you're lost, let me explain.

My friend and I were out in the hipster part of town and decided to dine at a local pizzeria. Our waitress fit the mold of the clientele who would actually take claim as being a resident of that area. She had the tattoos up the arm, the piercings, dark framed glasses, hand me down clothes, and whatever else she could afford from Urban Outfitters to be seen (scene). She wasn't sexy by any means, but she was probably the best looking female in a fifty foot radius and so something was compelling about her..she was different…this was noted by both myself and my dining companion.

"Damn, she's sexy..I'd pee in her butt," and it was with this statement from my friend that made me see the woes of our ways..we were duped into wanting to have sex with this creature. Right then and there I created the title's phrase, "NO, she's only good for a one time fuck", and I continued to explain. You see, you'd have sex with her, it'd be whatever, but when morning came, and she pulled back the doors to her closet it'd reveal a lot more than just clothes…well, actually, just clothes..but her entire wardrobe would look like she skinned a 70's couch..and that little outfit that you thought was so sexy the day prior would just be replicated again in order to create the character she has been playing…

This is not someone you could continue dating…her colored hair you thought that was 'sticking it to the man' and all of her other little rebellious ways would soon grow old as you wanted her to grow the fuck up…being a scenester is only fun until you realize the bills need to get paid and you need to get a real job…but this bitch's warped sense of reality would only prevent you from wanting you to take her out in public, taking her to your parents..and essentially, continue seeing.

I went social deviant route, but it works for all OTFs…the really hot blonde at the beach - if she's willing to cheat on her boyfriend who's out in the water surfing, she's gonna cheat on you too..or the girl you meet while waiting in line who ends up being really fucking dumb..or the girl in the coffee shop who is just a complete bitch..or the girl at the concert who's a druggie..and let's not even get into the "bar girls"..these types of broads only warrant a one time dicking..enough for you to fulfill your sick and twisted fantasy, and then realize the horrible truth.

And that's exactly what it is, some sick fantasy. Guys want to bang "that chick" - and that chick is any chick at that random point..from the sexy cheerleader to the dominating hardcore slut…ohh, click, now you're catching on. These women are not the women we wished to be with, but because of sick libidos we want to fulfill random urges and therefore we are drawn to them..they aren't sexy, they aren't anything special..they are just random pokemon and we are in the pursuit to catch them all.

This is why we ask our women to role play, to fulfill these urges so outside forces aren't so tempting. And for those women who blatantly refuse to go along with the role playing it's as if you are telling your man to sleep with another woman.

It works both ways i'm certain! If my girl were to ask me to dress up as a cowboy and shag her rotten, you god damn right I would…you know why, because I wouldn't want her going out shopping at the grocery store, running into a guy in a 10 gallon hat with snakeskin boots and all of a sudden getting her pants wet about it. You have to nip that shit in the butt.

Now of course I'm not saying that everyone in a relationship is going to cheat on their significant other because they saw a firefighter or librarian…but those urges are there..and people need to be aware of that..and if you really loved your lover, why wouldn't you want to please them so their minds don't wander.

So, I'm not blaming any one person for causing this, I'm just here to spread the good word, making people aware of such randomcies in life. And yes, this was a blog about the direct correlation to erratic urges of people you randomly see out in public and role playing in the bedroom.

Soooo, who wants to play Civil War Hospital reenactment…i'll be the amputee victim...






"Hi, your personality and presentation of self is nothing i would ever want out of a partner, and frankly I find your existence to be quite annoying - whatever character you've created and decided to live everyday as is a triumph against all normalcies in life and i can only hope and pray one day you wake the fuck up, however that being said it compels me enough to want my dick inside of you just once..i cannot explain as to why, maybe it's my self-expressive or rebellious side peaking out, me being completely absent minded going against the grain, but i know for certain come tomorrow i'll never want anything to actually do with you again"

2 Months

but what the heck...
..it's november...

and i'm a little drunk

Who wants a post?!?! ok, don't answer...i've been doing this daily booth thing for y'all every day..it's like an awesome mini blog..of sorts...it's like twitter as in i get to write a blurb, i get to add a picture, and in my picture i add a caption..with stitch as well...sounds great eh?

thought so...

it's november, and just as a self fulfilled prophecy is, it's sucking. i'm only eleven days into this mess and it's beyound a shit show...yes i just said this goes to eleven and yes i used a u in beyound...

you know, the other day i waited on a guy who questioned where i was from...he wanted to play that game...he guessed africa, australia, and everywhere else...fuck, i thought he was gonna go states, but he went for the countries....he was thrown off by a certain dissertation in my voice, that doesn't make sense, he was thrown off by how i was saying things...i explained to him i mimic everyone i am around all day long..i can do impressions of literally everyone - it comes from having a keen sense of observation and trying to mock all noises you heard as a kid, go figure...yes, i was the kid who made siren noises and barked like a dog because i wanted to sound as close as possible to it.

as i said it's november..this is how i handle things...i keep them inside...the mere fact i am blogging right now is a fucking miracle - the fact i am cursing a lot isn't surprising....don't want shit, don't start no shit then...yes i just used a double negative, yes you can fuck off.

i get angry when i drink..at times...i guess it comes with the territory....i mean mood or month or something...i'm rambling..

you know what i hate, emotion. mother fuck emotions. if there is one thing i'd rather live without it'd be emotions...i don't like it when people cry, i don't like it when people are all in my face happy, and i especially don't like it if i become one of those people...i cried tonight...i felt like a fucking pussy - not because crying is gay, but because it's below me. i didn't cry when TJ passed away, but on;t because i was expecting it...throw me a wrench and i break down, i fucking hate that...i hate losing control, i fucking hate defeat..

someone told me i was still hung up on my ex, you know, the fucking bitch who still owes me 6k - and i'm not saying she owes me six letter K's, i mean six to the thousand dollars ..yeah, not hung up on her as so much i'm hung up on the fact that i failed...i tried, actually tried to get her back - even though i knew it was stupid, i knew we weren't supposed to be together and hell, i actually initiated the breakup - what i can't get a grasp on is the fact that i fucking tried and i failed...i wasn't good enough, i couldn't win..i was a fucking loser..

would i be happy with her now, who the fuck cares, probably not, i'd probably be trying to break up with her again because i talk to fast using words she doesn't understand...you want a grading scale for women try this...take her IQ, subtract her weight, if it's positive you're golden....

i hate dumb bitches like i hate...whatever..emotions? go with that one again...my mouth tastes like a night at louies...where the fuck is the dumb bitch in my bed this evening..

you know what i hate...i hate the fact i wanna write my thoughts down about everything right now...but there's sooo many different parties that would fucking eat this shit up that i just couldn't deal with that...how dare i publish what's going on in my life for others to read...

which leads me into my last thought, i hope....a co-worker of mine found out something random about me and stated he wanted to write a book about the mysterious enigma that is The Jangus - to which i replied if you were to do that, either a lot of pages would be blank, or if the truth got out, a lot of people would riot - i'll keep myself as the deleted chapter in everyone else's lives and fade away...

so here you go..it's november, so if you like me, do me a favor and fuck off til december...i don't want to deal with anyone or anything at the moment because i'll break...self-fulfilling maybe, my reality at the moment, yes.










"you want me to promise you something that's happening in June, i can't even commit to next week...."