Stupid

what

the

fuck, google?!

I hate this new format...it makes me not want to write at all...I don't get it..I've been using blogger since 2002...blogger was bought out by google awhile back...there has been little changes in that decade..subtle things here and there..color schemes, certain formats, the login proces...but now...now...this whole thing kills it for me.

the ease is gone...the design is gone..the creative flow is gone....maybe it means i should be gone as well.  if it's not broken, why "fix" it...there was no need, no demand to change the former layout..

Ugh, I'm sorry, I'm just ranting about something trivial...but, it's an update for you guys...blogger changed their setup, and I hate it...google's mantra is "don't be evil", well, they are failing right now

Maybe I'll use something else...

"Who uses yahoo to search anyways?!"

I'm about to Djokovic

advantage

love

today my subdivision came close to being burned to the ground by me

I woke up not looking forward to work today; so much in fact i fell back asleep after turning off my alarms. Luckily I didn't oversleep and got to work on time...funny that work would soon to be the thing I needed to get away from everything else.

Not sure what got me there, all I know I was one angry individual come lunch...maybe it was the long lines, the long work day, the meddling hands with work, or some random facebook post that i read too deeply into. whatever the case may have been, i was not in a happy place.

if you could graph my level of care on, say, a pie chart..the chart would show a bag of flour and blueberries on a shelf - ...because..i care so little that not even the pie was made....ok...enough...

i'm fading fast, and my health will soon suffer. i need to go.

"fuck it, i quit"

I'm in No Place

fuck

fuck

fuck

I've got a lot on my mind, so much in fact that I'm coming up short with dispensing it in my normal manner such as this. I have all these half thoughts that just bounce around one another - it's like trying to chase after a bug in flight. I need to remove this load from my shoulders, hence, me writing..I will do my best I suppose.

I feel I'm at some sort of crossroads...wait..an intersection...no, that's lame...I feel as if I just pulled into a small subdivision and after a short stint on that main road I have three options...left, right, straight...but as I sit there, seeing the gate close behind me in this 808 complex, I look down each of the roads and see nothing but dead-ends..of course nobody would ever call them that, they hide behind the language of love and say cul-de-sac .

Don't Call it a Comeback

I'm here to stay forever

and ever and a day that's never

I can't let you go

Look, I can sit here and make excuses about this, that, or the other - granted the past three plus weeks have been hectic - the main point isI'm back. We all know there's gonna be a hiatus in the summer months, and then just as all that ends, and September rolls in (bloody bloody September), so does my blogging.

It's a week in and I'm already late on this. Finally there's things to say, but I haven't had the opportunity...so now i'm just making this stepping stone of a blog to get my fingers a little wet, wipe off the dust, break off the rust, and go for the gust...oh

I figure if i knock something out of the way, something such as this, it will give way to something a little more...meaningful. As I said to another fellow blogger (oh, did I mention I got someone to start blogging?!), not every post is going to be a masterpiece, work of art, nobel prize worthy...but think about who you're doing it for..and also think of those as the unofficial important takes on the really good ones. Sure in another world posts like these get deleted - like scenes in a movie, you don't actually follow around the character for every move - and what's left is all diamonds and gold...but the truth is, you have to remove some dirt off before you have that...that necessary dirt is these posts.

So as I stumble over the keys hunting and pecking, trying to formulate my analogies, this is what happens...practice makes perfect, and this is me coming back from the off-season..first games are a little deficient.

but it's ok, certain skills are like certain loves, yo never really lose them.

"Come with me"

Tonight

is gonna be

a rough night

blaaaaaaaaaaetrytjjjdtyh;w6o45qt

Sometimes I wonder why I do this to myself.

Not a Song

free

dumb

Shit.just.got.real.

Sorry, I didn't write you a (love) song, but instead, you shall receive this media of emotion from me..maybe I'll write a sonnet, a haiku, or short story, but for now, this is my response.

Actually...I don't even have a response, I think I'm too outraged to even emulate a reply..however, this will be my riposte to that katy perry claptrap you call music.

**Just to give you an idea of how infuriated I am, I've, already, had to walk away and distract myself several times just to calm down.

And I know the classic line that I'm so vain I probably think that song is about me will fall from dull tongues - but when you know, you know...it's that sense, when you know you're being attacked..that sense when you know you're being talked at/to. Like when you're somewhere, anywhere there's people around, and though someone doesn't say your name, you know they are directing their words at you. It's not the, "hey you in the blue hoodie and Ray-bans" calling you out, it's more of a general "hey, blablabla".

And you almost freeze as you are doing whatever it may be; walking by, standing there, whatever, just thinking, wait, i don't know anyone here, surely that can't be towards me..yet you just know it is. This is one of those times, and though it may not be completely directed or 100% based from me, you can clearly hear my influence in the lyrics throughout the song.

It was proclaimed that despite my thinking my fast car will take me to freedom, i'm actually on a road to hell - if that were the case, I'd prefer a highway, and usually my fast car is fast enough to fly out of here, accompanied with a ticket or plan to anywhere.

And though you may think without your love all I have is a jail cell, well, let me correct you on that one..it's not without your love, because I'm pretty sure your love is what caused for whatever to happen, but mostly, your absolutely bat-shit craziness is what will give me that jail cell. It's not you falling out of love with me that does me harm, rather, it's you flipping a 180, turning your back, and making up horrible, malicious lies that will cage me in.

Ughhh, and there's more bullshit lines, but I just can't even justify a response to what sounds like some hollow, whiney little girl's attempt at revenge through music that was written by a 12 year old with the forced lines, stolen lyrics that sounded cool, and inaneness too unconvincing even for the pop world.

but don't take my word for it, you be the judge http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t5KWKWW4kis

"sadly all those views are from my friends laughing at her..."

You

fucking

ruined

me

Sigh, that comment is directed to a number of people, including myself, so don't take it the wrong way. Ehh, I don't feel like going down that path right now, I'm still trying to catch up from this past week, what with the holiday and visitors and all. I guess I just wanted to get that statement out there, get it said. Funny, because almost every night as I lay in bed, right before I pass out I think of a title for my next blog - and they've pretty much all been something along the lines of one word phrases calling someone out on something.

It's sumer, and I don't write much in summer..I guess my mind goes on its own little vacation without me knowing it…maybe its just habitual now after all those years of schooling…may ending the year and the end of august kicking it back off.

I remember hating trying to get back into the grove of things in august..back on a sleep schedule, back on any schedule, back to making your head retain pointless knowledge all the while trying to remember everything you forgot in those few months off.

Maybe summer school would be good for kids..maybe year round school would be good for kids. Of all the archaic institutions in America, it seems silly to still let children off from school during the summer months to tend to the crops. Of course this type of thinking would only anger everyone…wonder why we are listed so low on the most intelligent nations list.

Right now everything in my life and around me is a mess…but not such a chaotic mess..more like that uncomfortable numb acceptance mess…like you're that sock in the washing machine that's just kinda sitting in the middle of things as the center blades churn back and forth. You're getting tugged and pulled in all directions, but it's not violent. You're kinda floating, not really getting sucked down into the mix of things..but you realize, even that would be better than where you are right now…because at least then you'd be doing something. you're just a sock in a washing machine, and nothing is living up to its purpose.

let's hope it's not a pink sock in the whites...

"to today, middle finger response"

This Fucking Cunt

oh this little cunt,

i wouldn't worry about this little cunt

a story about other bitches being crazy

Not sure where to begin as my mood has changed drastically since finding the recent onslaught of insults posted not too long ago. But i'm going to write this, since I know you read this, though you'll probably take a slight hiatus since i called you out on doing such a thing..but here we go.

Actually, I'm still not sure where to begin...you only check my blog to "make sure I'm not being creepy, yet obviously I am"...this statement alone befuddles me, because, now I may not be 100% accurate, but I'd be willing to guess I've never talked about you on here - and just to cover my tracks, if I ever did, it was a long time ago,well before anytime recent..again, if you were ever mentioned. Don't flatter yourself, even as much of a bitch you were, you obviously weren't worth my two minutes of typing.

And delving further with the don't flatter yourself theme...i also didn't talk about you, or talk to people about you, or try to..whatever it is you think. Get off yourself, you're not that fucking special. I think I mentioned something about you one time, this current year, but that's because your name was already brought up..wooooooooooo.

You act like we never talked, or weren't talking for a period of time, or that you asked me to send you a christmas present last year..

Yeah, did I confuse readers now..ok, break for a second. I'll make this brief, so this fucking cunt and I used to talk not too long ago, yadda yadda, then the calendar anews, and like the previous year, she's gone too. Naturally I'm confused, it's as if she got what she wanted, and then ran. I didn't put too much stock into the situation, clearly I had more important things going on..and though we had no personal interaction, I noticed this person still reading my blog...finding that odd I eventually brought it up one day in conversation when somebody else is talking about her..just trying to get a sense of understanding...still coming up empty handed. After that I just let it go, not thinking much of it, not really caring because it was just random and I ignored it. Then I make one comment on twitter and the whole world comes crashing down - i saw lyrics, i replied with the next lyrics..apparently that was cra-zay (said in highpitched voice) and here we are...

So you can take your childish ways, bitch-ass accusations, this ego-centric everything is about you mentality, and get the fuck out of here...leave me alone. Once I saw you were flipping cup and bat-shit crazy, I blocked you, removed you from everything I could..realizing you were just going to bring harm into my life..i don't need that. You're the monster here, not I.

This is the first and last post about you, there's the door, fuck off.

"she must spend a lot of time putting all that make-up on those two faces of hers..."

Accidentally I

sorry

not sorry

hashtag smiley face el oh el hey.

I don't know how I didn't come up with that phrase a long time ago...thinking on it now, I probably did, just never stuck around..and now it's a trending topic on twitter... And before I even get started, what the fuck has been going on with people lately - maybe it's just been an off week for some, but now that summer is here, let's try to roll it the eff together.

And I'm not sure if a certain person is trying to get me to post about them or what, because it sure as hell seems like it to me. SNP has been pushing all the right (or wrong depending on how you look at things) buttons, saying the things, creating a situation all on the ingredient list to fire up my fingers. It's a distraction that has my head displaced more than it should be, more than it can really take.

I'm always so understanding, and that's one of my biggest downfalls..because I let people get away with shit that no person really should. As much as a person I am to not have time for bullshit, being able to walk away from many situations that don't warrant any more effort on my part, it's not always the case. When it comes down to certain people, I unravel their "bullshit excuses" - as deemed by everyone else in the world - and acknowledge obstacles, shortcomings, and essentially collaborate justification for them.

But as the shit builds up, I'm left in a quandary - do I make it down to the lavatory, or do I just shit myself with this one right here. I never know what to do in those situations because by then, I'm in too deep. I'm emotionally pot committed, I swam too far out from shore and didn't save any for the swim back, to back out now would be even more devastating (to myself) than any problems I may actually be incurring in my own life.

There is never an easy answer for this. Backing out at any point to me seems like failure, and I don't fail here. I believe what makes it worse is the fact I believe in the propagandous alibis, the one's I should have said goodbye too long ago. Instead I excuse the excuses, erroneously eradicate reason, reason being is still unrevealed.

I pause.

"the sound the record makes as it changes to the next song..."

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"

Five Hours Later

W

C

because you don't get it...

Well, I'm making this post a little late...it should have been posted last...err, this morning...but i went to bed shortly after everything, even though i wasn't tired..and in the morning..since when do i make morning posts?

So you get this now..i'll back track the time for the ninth...so Happy Birthday, this one is for you ;-) Did I just use a frickin emoticon in my blog, ugh..

Anyway...I wish I could say everything I wanted to...but obviously this catches your attention so I won't..last night, or this morning..or whenever we ended our conversation you wanted to know what was on my mind...For once in my life I did not want to make things awkward..for once in my life I fought hard on picking the right words to say, as to not say too much...which only caused me to sound unconfident in my words...

there was more..so much more...but that's neither here nor there...I want to say a lot..I want to tell you everything, but, I just can't. That ship has sailed, and I don't know how to swim back to you.

maybe one day..you'll know everything..maybe one day you'll see you like I see you..maybe you'll get it..but that's hope..and I never liked her

and now i have to be careful what i say in here..cuz i guess every now and then you read..and i don't want to ruin what we have.

if i can't have you as a lover, i'll take you as my friend..and if i can't have that....well

"ethereal"

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?"

Never Cheat a Friend

is it better to truthfully forget

or to willfully ignore

I shoulda known better

I should have known that when I didn't hear from you on my birthday things weren't right. Sure, I've never been one to really put stock into my birthday (my stupid birthday); but others do, and others do as they want done to them..and so they will make it known. Receiving a call or even a text is just common courtesy.

My life always has a way of finding itself back to this certain situation; wherein girl and I break up, shortly thereafter my birthday pops up, and it's anybody's guess as to whether will she comment or not. Of course my birthday always falls first, and depending on her reaction will give clearance to mine. Some of my ex-girlfriends birthdays have even been so close as to fall just days after mine - always making for one, largely ignored week.

But whether you forgot or just didn't care (which are essentially the same thing) doesn't really matter at this point, the fact remains, the deed has been not done, and why are we fooling anyone, it's always the latter.

And with your birthday now rapidly approaching I feel a bit of tension in my decision making. I know what day it is, I can't play like I forgot - for forgetting is for the careless, the ones who whisper sour somethings..and I have never been one of bad taste. You'll know (just like I knew) when you don't receive that message from me, and you'll feel how I felt, but you'll also know I did it out of spite; and that's what doesn't settle for me right.

For once in my life I don't want to burn red with young maleficence influenced by some planetary motion...and that brings me to a rams head. I don't want to not contact you out of crossness, yet I don't want to contact you, period.

And the latter isn't because of absence of attention..well, wait..actually it is...I was trying to say my fading out wasn't a fuming rebuttal, that I wasn't doing this out pessimistic passion..but rather, because we, you, have made a clear distinction in the unavailability with each other, me.

It's not necessarily because I care less, rather, it's because you do.

"Giving up and letting go are not the same thing..i'm just having trouble sorting out the definitions right now..something something special...something..."

BBC,

the angry post you thought it was about

was not actually who it was

all that and more, coming up next

For lack of beter words, apparently I got carried away last night...but I think it was for the better.

There's nothing like having your crazy ex-gf decide to randomly cut of all ties with you for the hundredth time and also seeing another ex-gf look absolutely amazing...standing next to her douchebag boyfriend she replaced you with. All the troubles I've been adding into my list this weekend. I'm going to go off on a limb and say the stalker ex-gf that I have been doing my community service with has been doing what she does best, reading up on every little thing I shit out online. no, I'm flattered, don't get me wrong..some of my favorite exes are crazed fans of mine...(thanks for all the hits girls) But, it looks as though, they couldn't handle what I had to say, naturally. So enjoy my dog, you anal loving slut.

You may think I'm angry from that last statement, nah, just getting in my last laugh..ahhh, ok..maybe not last laugh, I'll be referencing that dognapper from here til eternity...but eventually she'll have moved onto cats..

repetition...the other lady, with whom still holds a place in my heart, is doing her best to find her way out..whether this is intentional or not I'm not sure...but then again, she knows me better than most of my exes so she must realize that being incomunicado is not the way I work. so maybe all is lost there as well.

It's a sad day when someone who cant give up on anything gives up on you. Imagine the sea just suddenly stopping from crashing into and kissing the shore after time and time again being rejected...obviously, you're a beach and I'm waving goodbye.

The advice you gave is coming back to bite you..but maybe that's what you secretly wanted all along..whatever, it's whatever...and as much as i can't stop thinking about you, i guess i need to..and that's why I'm selling the pony, it only reminds me of you..she never really was mine to begin with, and neither were you.

But it's nice to know that, even though your ex-girlfriend is sexier than sliced bre-wait..sliced bread isn't sexy..that makes no sense at all..hmm, ok..ex-girlfriend is sexy, go. So ok, it's nice to know that she's obviously the bread-winner in that relationship...and that anyone you don't ask will tell you that you're, or me rather, is a lot more attractive than her replacement guy...but all my exes love to pick uglier men..there's an actual collage of these accepted rejects, and it ain't pretty.

but I guess that just proves that looks aren't everything, at least to my exes..glad I'll always be the 'pretty boy' in their lives..that their kids will question years down the road and ask, "he's hot, why didn't you stay with him?!" to which their stupid mother will have to say something along the lines of.."because I'm a dumb whore Talitha."

Alright, now I'm just getting a little high on myself....but I mean it's hard not to when I have 100% of the audience polled giving the number one answer as, well, listed above...

I may be getting carried away again, and I may just be rambling..which is a horrible attempt to cover my exploits from last night...I'm posting real thoughts that shouldn't necessarily be on the internet..posts in the raw..call back anyone?

I'm supposed to be posting worthwhile shit every three days...this has been 4 posts in 24 hours..that's not productive, that's messing with nature...like, well, i'm too drunk to come up with the intellectual wording of it all, but those farms that create headless chickens..whatever, all that jazz...I'm just producing stuff to say I did something I guess, fail.

So there you have it..an update to a rant to an emotion that boiled over and burst through all the while still not coherent enough to know whether or not it was mother's day today or not..but that's a different story and we just met...

water anyone?

"I wished that you cared. I don't know if you ever really did and that's why i can't say "still."

all i can say

is

there once was a girl

who loved me

but she don't anymore

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?!"

You There..

are you..

well..

A million things on my mind, and I can't type.

I'm not exactly sure how this should begin...i just spent the better part of half an hour talking to a picture...which, of course, only resulted in precipitation. But it's been three days, err rather four, so i must put something in here for you.

Who am i kidding...I honestly can't come up with anything at the moment...I'm obviously too drunk to say words...which is sad because i was on a roll earlier..I really can't formulate anything, and I was so stoked to post a post too..maybe a nap or something will do..I love the fact we have a 96 this week..i needed a break so much..i mean, it's already sunday@?

I'll just go and talk to you some more i guess..

"i wish i could forget you like you forgot that night....but it's not that simple for me"

Blogger Life

Jen..

you..

in?

Yes. My blog is hosted by google, the blog is written in blogger, bought out by google, and the email address that is attached to this blog is run by google. That being said, every now and then I will receive email notifications from google about my blog; mainly, when people are brought to my site because they google searched something.

I typically no longer give notic

e to these emails after seeing a disturbing trend in them. Apparently there are a lot more sick people out there in the world, and I was just made light of the situation. Most of the hits my blog gets are from people searching "kids in tighty whities" (this is sure to get me even more creepy hit results now...fail).

Now immediately i know what you are thinking, there are two questions posed here, and I'll answer one. Why does my blog come up as a result for that creeptastic search? Well, it dates back to a post somewhere around 2004? It wasn't even a real post but one of those stupid online quizes I much so loved to post when I had nothing else to say...However, the real questions remains...why are people searching that stuff?! I feel dirty just for being in association with it.

However, all this leads me up to another story. This morning I awoke to the sound of my alarm on my phone going off. And as I do every morning, I dismiss the alarm, which opens the phone, and I see all my nightly notifications - texts, facebook, emails, etc. I use these notifications as a waking up method, checking and dismissing them, deleting, until they all go away..hopefully gaining some awareness in the process, making my rise a little more loose. This morning I was blessed with one of the google update emails about my blog. And in my fumbling process wherein i continue to miss the trash can button with my finger over and over I read more and more of the email. This weeks searches caught my idle eye.

It seems as though if one were to search "fucked his daughter in the ass" not only would my blog show up, but it would be the number 1 hit - of course I think for hilarity it should be number 2, but let's not get anal about it. Of course the post it references was back when I went to court for my dog, which is also an infamous post that still leaves a certain someone a little unsettled. Of course this is my morning delight and I share it with the world via my twitter. Naturally, one of followers is offended, which of course just so happens to be the person of which the post is about. This, as you can probably guess, starts a fight - if there's one constant in my life, it's that the things I say get me in trouble...today is no different, even if they are new words speaking of old words.

my readers comment to my tweet stirred up my wit, as i responded with a sly monty hall proposition. You see, this reader wants that amazing post deleted, removed, erased from existence; and as all of you know by now, I am not one to just edit myself (unlike certain people who try and photochop their lives to fit whatever emotion is the current trend that day for them) So I suggest that I'd be more than willing blot out the blog post should one pass on the papillon. This does not go over well as you would imagine, and results in another chirping attack proclaiming the reader has paid me for the dog and is therefore theirs..true, but again, that was after the courts decreed proper ownership was mine..but you know what, I paid my dues to host that post, so I guess if she wants to buy that post as well she can too do.

I offered a compromise on a stance I typically don't move on, I thought I was being a good guy, but that's the problem with being real, people really don't like it. I post, and I don't correct - like i always say, this is a one time sit and rant style of blogging..i won't go back and edit things for my approval, and I sure as shit won't do it for yours. What I felt then was how I felt and it remains in the past..unless you try to kick up that dirt. Sure you can try and delete those comments, posts, pictures, and everything else that built your little world up at the drop of a hat because you lost your god damned mind..but it doesn't make it from ever existing...and though you try to block out those details and hide in the dark, the light of truth burns like a thousand eternal suns...but you are no Eloisa..

What has been seen cannot be unscene; what has been felt cannot be unpenned, what has been willed cannot be unquilled.

"How happy is the blameless vestal's lot! The world forgetting, by the world forgot."

Ours

the only thing that moves on

...is time

why then, oh why can't I?!

You won't find me there or anywhere the bluebirds are. No, this place is reserved for the kinds likable to that of myself. A table for one, where what's on the menu isn't as important to the name on the menu.

I'd like to be honest as possible in these stories, I'd love to be able to go off on tangents...but I'm just afraid that the viewing public expands more than those who will text me later tonight or tomorrow. Some are accident, and are of no concern to me, no, it's those who with malice aforethought seek me out.

To say this is all some sort of a conspiracy would only signal the red flags. Certain questions like how did my boss get wind of, as he lovingly titled this, "blue thirty-five monkey butt fuck" Sigh, it's Tuesday, but you'd never know that.

I heard Our song this weekend. In fact, I have never heard that song played on the radio, or anywhere for that matter, ever before..it lacks being in my playlist..but I heard it on more than one occasion, and in less than a 24 hour period.

The first time was in the evening last night. As, what I'd start to call a Saturday tradition of sorts, began, fueled by hunger and a desire to see, led us back again. I was riding shotgun not paying attention to much of anything, rambling about nothing with my driver - who can ever really recall these details anyways. The radio was on, but I don't ever remember it playing music up until that harrowing moment..you know how in the movies where a certain song suddenly comes on the radio, or gets louder, and it's only for that song or scene..this was one of those cinematragic moments.

The first beats of the song chimed loudly, louder than hollow conversation, filling the emptiness of the cars interior, tunneling into my ear canal quick with precision and onto my eardrum with percussion. I've never heard a song sting like this. My driver was unaware of the panic i was in, countered almost simultaneously with the tympanic punch with one of his own "look, here's your girl" he said jeeringly not realizing just how right he was with that double entrende. I sat in my paralysis not wanting to believe the song was ours..hoping it was a different song..a different singer...a different love.

I surfaced through my silence, only being able to come up with a 'no' which i repeated several more times. This caused confusion in my driver, who reaffirmed me that the singer was that of which we knew all along..and the song was ours..and so was our love.

My nightmare on this road didn't last much longer as we were, or I was rather, fortunate to be arriving at our destination. It was in those moments the car was being parked my mouth was set back in motion. Mumbles and rambles to myself, only safeguarded by the fact someone was with me, I wasn't sure I was talking to him or myself. Why was this the "first" time I've heard our song..never before you, never once after you, until tonight..tonight.

My luck didn't stop there, and it couldn't be stopped the next time. At our place of destination, upon entering the foyer we were met with smiling faces of remembrance that allowed me to recover. But it was later in the evening that song would play one more time. Once again those introduction notes deafening a large, noisy room- slicing through the crowd, finding its way to me, always. The horror continued, we thought we were safe, but monsters never die just once. There was no escaping from it this time.

It was then I decided to numb the awareness and alert my friend as to the impact or significance this moment was having unto me. Once he understood the startling truth a sympathetic stare was all he could render, and I can't expect much more from anyone else.

That was the second time, just twice hours apart, and it wouldn't be the last either. Not even half a day later, once again driving around in the car for a quick spin to the gym, we were confronted with that now infamous lead-in. And just like the first time, those wondrous inflections affected me all the same; still. Luckily by then my driver knew, and responded quickly, rotating the dial that controlled the output, landing on anything in the world other than that song. The break in beat snapped me out of my whirling coma and brought me back to reality before too much damage could be done.

Third time's a charm, they say...but I don't know what they are getting at, I mean, I'm still here.

"i love the riddles that you speak.. -yeah you do sometimes"