I hate driving in this town..

We have a bunch of professional shitty drivers in this town.

 

I was trying to take a left off a busy intersection during a red light.  This should not be a problem because good drivers will stop in such a way as to leave roads open during their stay at the Red Light Inn.  However, in my town drivers seem to think it is right and proper to park their huge SUVs directly in my path, blocking traffic going in and out of side roads and residential neighborhoods. 

 

It's pretty ridiculous and creates a huge traffic problem but no one seems to care.

 

Anger and fury are words which describe my feelings towards the drivers in my town.  Anger, fury and kitten-face-punches.

No No No

Have you ever had someone come back in to your life who was somehow bad news?  But somehow you make the same mistake again and again?

What is it about the holidays that brings old flames runnin' back?

Drive-Thru Reflections

Nosy as ever, I found myself peering in to the driver's side mirror of the car two spots in front of me to see what the girl driving looked like.  She caught me looking - and yes, she was cute - and I smiled at her.  She smiled back at me and kept her eyes in her mirror while she received her bag of food.  Then she just drove off.

Made me think of a few times when there was some sort of click - some sort of minute and immediate and just there connection with some girl I could have talked to - and I just didn't.  I talked myself out of it for some reason or other.  Really, why the hell didn't I just say hi?  Make a quick introduction and see where it went?

Really, when did I become such a pussy?

Don't touch that!

With the Longhorns leading 21-0 and the Sun Devils driving early in the second quarter, ASU's Rudy Carpenter dropped back to pass and was hit by linebacker Roddrick Muckelroy. The ball squirted backward, toward the Longhorns' sideline.

Jessie, a member of his stepfather's football operations staff, stepped about a yard onto the field and was motioning toward a player when he reached down and appeared to touch the ball with his left thumb. Texas defensive tackle Roy Miller slapped the ball away from the sideline and defensive end Aaron Lewis recovered and returned it to about the ASU 44.

After a 12-minute review, officials reversed the play. They ruled that Jessie touched the ball, which is illegal interference, an unsportsmanlike foul. The ball reverted to the Sun Devils and Texas was penalized half the distance to the goal, giving ASU fourth-and-3 at the 7. Carpenter threw a touchdown pass to Chris McGaha.

 

Unforgettable indeed.  Good thing they won the game!  Don't touch until you hear a whistle blow, buddy!

 

I can't help but think that were this anyone but the coaches' stepson this guy'd have been fired on the spot.  But hey, he says he didn't touch it - maybe he didn't!

The "Other" Kind of Dating

You know, it's not just men that say funny shit to get a date.  A female friend of mine just asked me if I wanted to date.  I said no and explained the millions of reasons why not - except the most crucial, hearbreaking one...  you know, "I'm just not that in to you." 

 

See, you can never really say that.  Ever.  Women suspect it anyway - if they didn't they wouldn't keep prodding and asking and begging when you say no.  In fact, I think that's true of both men and women - for some reason we're a glutton for punishment and "no" is just not ever enough.

 

But I digress - get this.

 

H: "But we've been safe dating for forever.."

P: "I'm sorry...  how's that?"

 

H:  "Haha fooled you!  Every time we went to the movies we were safe dating.  And you didn't even know it!"

P:  "But weren't you seeing someone at the time?  Were you "safe cheating?"

 

I think that's the best pickup line a girl has ever thrown my way.

Merry Christmas!

And coincidentally my 100th post.

Fitting.

Merry Christmas everyone!

Bye bye beautiful...

...don't bother to write.

I don't quite understand what makes people send one text message and then completely ignore any further responses to that message.  If you don't want to talk to me why text at all?  I have one reasonable suspicion - you were making a booty call and something came up.  Ex boyfriend?  Former lover?  Makes sense - but consider all your options BEFORE sending me a message.

And you ma'am.  You didn't seem interested enough after our first "date" - and now you're texting me two weeks later.  But I didn't respond last night because I was busy and didn't notice your message - and now you won't respond to my responses.  My only reasonable suspicion?  You needed me to get you something twenty-year old girls can't get on their own on a late Friday night. 

See what happens when you pull the "text-and-disappear?"  I conclude further conversation with you will be a waste of my time.

Just got this text

"Did you know my husband was banging customers when you worked for him?"

Seriously?  That was 4 years ago.  How the hell did you get my number?!

This is what work has become

Chess against a co-worker. 

 

Your queen is mine, buddy.  Come over here and make your move.

You ladies are silly

I just had a girl tell me "my friends have decided - we should date.  Think about it."

 

I was floored, but I think I hid it pretty well.

 

I mean, dating by committee?  I'm flattered...  I think?  But no...  let's keep it at a friend level.  You and I are not compatible.

 

This is definitely the most novel way I've ever been asked out.  Ever.

Imagining

how amazing my house is going to look with freshly painted walls and these stunning hardwood floors.

Ironic that I can only now begin to afford to improve my home - just as I'm selling it.

Listening to Flyleaf just makes me think about rough sex with the lead singer.  At first glance she's not at all my type physically - but man, at 4'11" and all of 90 pounds I can think of a few walls, fences and other solid, stationary objects I'd slam her up against (or with if you catch my drift).

Or should I be thinking of sweet, slow sex?

Fuck that - rough sex is on the mind.  Why fight it?

My Internet Needs Work

Talking to a girl through IM:

Girl:  Ugh, I'm sick.
Me:  Really?  What's the matter?
Girl:  I have a cold and my tonsils are swollen.
Me:  Really?  How swollen exactly?

I would -never- ask that in person.  Why would I ask that over the internet?  I think the problem is I have way too much time to think about what I say on the web - and I end up thinking it to death.

Ugh.

I don't get it

Why do people get mad at things that didn't actually happen?

 

You won't believe the asshole who cut me off on the freeway today.  He almost caused a wreck!

 

How is that possible?

 

Now, I'm not the guy who cut you off on the freeway.  We don't even call it the freeway here.  I don't even know if what we have qualifies as a freeway - is there a difference between a freeway and a highway?  I should wiki-p that shit.

 

All that aside, my point is this - it makes no sense to get mad at shit that didn't happen.  That wreck DIDN'T HAPPEN!  You can't honestly prove that he almost caused a wreck.  Almost is difficult to quantify.  Why add drama and stress to your life?  Why not just be glad you didn't get hit and move on?

 

Further - why can't people just ... drop shit?

 

I'm sorry I left the milk out and it spoiled.  But hey man, the milk is gone!  We ain't gettin' that jug of milk back, dude!  I'll just spend the 3.50 required to purchase a new one and voila !  Problem solved.

 

Why remind someone three weeks later of a trivial error?  The world didn't end because the milk spoiled.  Why not just look at it from the brighter side, man - you just got a fresher jug of milk!  Sweet!

 

I just can't understand why people don't see it my way.  They should really start.

Closing Game

This is going to sound silly but I have something I'll call a "closing game" which I use for the express intent of burning myself in a particular female's mind before leaving a room.  Generally this is a female with whom I felt some sort of connection but did not have sufficient time to get to really know.

 

There are many little facets of the game that are important, but there's one that I use with great effect that seems to improve my chances of getting somewhere with a woman the next time we meet.  It's always the last move of the night, so I call it the "goodbye grab."  Sound inappropriate?  Not when done correctly.

 

It stems from a Rule that I've discovered:  when a sufficient first impression has been given to a woman, she will associate her entire opinion of you with her LAST IMPRESSION OF YOU.

 

Basically, first impressions are important - but the last impression is the most important because it will most likely be the only thing she really remembers.

 

Case-in-point - I met a girl named KC (read phonetically, spelled otherwise) with whom I made an excellent first impression.  Unfortunately, something came up and I had to leave our group rather unexpectedly - so I couldn't say goodbye. 

 

Now regardless of how well she thought of me initially she continues to associate me with an asshole who didn't find her interesting or important enough to say goodbye to.

 

Yes - women think like that.

 

So anyway - last night's implementation of "the grab":

 

I began saying my adieus to my buddies at the bar and came to her last.  She was talking to someone else and didn't see me come up - so rather than surprising her I said goodbye to the person she was talking to first so she knew what to expect.

 

This is key - if you surprise her with the grab it DOES become inappropriate.  Let her know you're there first.

 

After saying goodbye to the person she was speaking to, I looked at her and gently grabbed her shoulder - naturally she turned towards me and I was the center of her attention.  I then looked her in the eye, smiled - said something to make her smile and then left.

 

The important stuff in the sentence was in bold but here's an outline:

 

1.)  The shoulder grab was crucial - it made her turn towards me and focus on me completely.  It is KEY to be the center of her attention at this point or none of this will do you any good.

2.)  I looked her in the eye and smiled - her last image of me was as pleasant and as attractive as possible.

3.)  I made HER smile - which means she felt good for a moment - JUST LONG ENOUGH to associate my presence, my touch and my smile with GOOD feelings.

 

Remember folks:  the human mind is extremely ASSOCIATIVE.  Associate with positive and you'll win.

 

And now back to our regularly scheduled programming...

 

 

A Question of Morality

Often when I go out with a particular friend and he brings a date she seems to walk away from him and show me interest.

Here's the thing, though - I don't step on my friend's toes. 

Last night was a really golden opportunity though.  A girl I hadn't seen in five years.  She was stunning.  I wanted her.  Badly.  Nine hours later and I regret not at least TRYING.  She kept walking away from him to come lean, touch, talk to me.

 

I mean, where's the point that I can just make a move and feel okay living with the consequences?




 

So wow - good news?

So a dime piece from my past text me out of nowhere last night.

What?  You want background?  Well, okay.

We have a past.

Anyway, she went off to another state and she's back for the Christmas holidays. 

Here's hoping good news.

Only Children

Only children get a lot of crap because of this overwhelming assumption that they "always get their way."  Apparently these children - and yes, I am among the poor bastards - are quick to anger because they've been coddled all their lives by parents whose only goal in life was to take care of their only Unique Snowflake.

This is quickly followed by quips pointing out that because they grew up with siblings they are better adjusted for the world because they have magically learned to be selfless.

 

I'd like to call bullshit. and I have mentally labored for one/many hour(s), renumerating my enumerations and such, in order to do so.

 

Yes - only children do take "not getting their way" a little harder than others.

 

But not because you sibling'd bastards are special little snowflakes.

 

Only children simply aren't used to the many variables introduced by the addition of brothers and sisters in to a family. 

 

Think about this - most plans go awry because something "came up."  That THING is generally an issue that has occurred in some OTHER person's life:

 

1. Grandma Got Sick
2. We had to visit grandma in the hospital
3. We missed the hockey game.

Now, if you have siblings the likelihood of things going wrong grows exponentially with the addition of each family member.  Sister #1 broke her leg, Sister #2 pissed mom off, Brother #3 got caught beating off in the azaleas again.  And each of these things can really screw your plans up.

 

Over time you've gotten used to this because, well, things happen to people all the time.

 

Only children, God Bless Them, do not have as many variables and therefore automatically run a slimmer risk of having their plans ruined.  This means such children may not be quite as used to fuck ups as they grow older.

 

This does not mean you, oh haver of siblings, are more giving or kind or generous than me.  Nor does it mean that I'm more selfish and needy than you.

 

It simply means we're both products of our environment.  Unfortunately, your environment produced a dick-headed, pretentious, condescending ugly stuck up prick and mine produced an angel.

 

But that's your problem.

 

Asshole.

 

Google is Psychic

Counsellor In Cultivation's most recent post made me think of one of my biggest turn-ons. A woman with some nice hips.

So I went on a google image hunt with a particular image in mind - unfortunately I couldn't remember the name of the model for whom I was searching so I just typed "Victoria's Secret Models" in.

Fortunately, that was enough information for google to connect to my subconscious (did I give google the username and password???) because it asked me if I was looking for Adriana Lima - which I was.

Anyway, she's the best example of perfect hips I could find on the internet. God, what a turn on. A flat stomach surrounded on either side by hips you can grab and... whoo.

Now that I think about it this is what attracted me to one of the girls I mentioned earlier in this blog. Her midsection was absolutely ridiculous. God, she'd ride me and I'd just watch her hips grind and it was the most beautiful thing in the world at that moment.

Too bad she was crazy, huh?

Let it never be said that we are not slaves

Because we certainly are.

 

We're slaves to technology, to our jobs, to fashion trends, to one another insomuch as we care about what others think about us.

 

We're slaves to educational institutions, The Rich, taxes, our Vices (be they nicotine, caffeine or addictions with longer names) our thoughts, our fears, our government - we've slaves to the complacency that has set in across the country as society convinces us that Everything Is Okay Just Breathe.

 

We are slaves to the last dollar in our bank accounts - to Beacon, FICO, Transunion, Equifax and Experian - we are slaves to our past and to industry and to our Property.

 

We never own anything because in the end what we have ends up owning us.  Defining us. 

 

Is this really what life's all about?  Money in the bank?  An 800 on some database somewhere?  All the other bs that "we can't take with us?"

 

If so....

 

Totally weak.

How Did He Know?

A little background before I tell today's story: I don't work in a particularly nice part of town. In fact, I work in the straight-up hood. Yes, straight-up.

Every morning before work (and sometimes during depending on how fast time decides to move that morning) I go to a nearby convenience store to get an energy drink.

There are five other, nicer convenience stores I could visit - but they don't carry the particular brand of drink I want. Nor could my patronage there ever give me such a story to tell.

Anyway, I told you that to tell you this:

This morning I went to my usual store to grab my usual Canned Energy Supplement. I passed two panhandlers, went in and made my purchase. I have to pay in cash here because they won't let customers use a card unless $5 or more is spent - so I gave the guy a fiver and paid for my drink.

Walking out the door one of the guys asks me for change - eighty-five cents.

First of all, I applaud him for his technique. By asking for a specific amount he probably increases his chances of skeeving change off an unwary passer-by because he creates the illusion that he might be purchasing something useful - other than malt liquor.

Second of all, my energy drink cost $2.15. I paid with a five-dollar bill.

My change was eighty-five cents.

Apparently this hobo was psychic. Naturally I pulled the wool over his eyes and lied to him - I don't have ANY change.

And as I turned around the most beautiful, voluptuous crack-ho ever walked up to the store. She pirouetted gracefully in her crack-trance, twitching and looking around her warily.

Psychic hobos and ballerina crack whores make my life complete.

Half-Click

So another date today, this time for lunch.

Since I had the day off I decided to play the part and go out looking as modelish as possible. I gotta say, totally pulled it off. The restaurant wasn't too too busy - and everywhere I looked people were looking at me.

I think I pulled off the charm bit pretty damn well, too - just being myself and such.

Now I'm wondering if Karma is out to get me. What if it's my turn to get paid back for all these dates where I was the one unable to grab interest in the other person.

Wonder if this is just another half-click - and if I'm the one with the half.

All in all I don't really care - so why do I keep looking at my damn phone for a missed text?

Pride.

A Letter Across Time

My good friend Mike has tagged me for what may be the coolest meme in history.  Word has it it was created by Malach the crazy inventor of all things wondrous - up to now his creations include The 13th Universe, Croatia and the car small enough to drive around a dime. 

The rules are simple:

• Link back to the person who tagged you.
• Send a letter back in time to your 13 year old self.
• Tag 5 more people to do this meme.

And so it begins:

Dear Young, Impressionable Me:

This is you in eight years.  I know you don't believe me, so I'm going to fill you in on YOU.  Right this minute.

• The year is 1999 and you've now finished your first few months of high school.  These will soon be remembered as the best years of your life.  Honestly, you're not "in with the cool crowd" - nor are you a "skag" (you'll later learn this word also stands as a colloquialism for heroin, but that fact never becomes important to you).  In fact, you'll spend the majority of your free time in the gym playing basketball.  No, you'll never play professionally - in fact, one of your greatest regrets will be that you gave the sport up during the later years of high school.  Fortunately you'll replace this activity with Speech - something that will be of immense importance to you in your later years.
• You've just ended a "relationship" with a girl named Tiffany.  Unfortunately you just weren't that interested in her.  She would end up messing her life up - so maybe you made the right choice. 
  
• You have always been known as the smart kid - a fact that will garner you a fair amount of shit during high school.  Fortunately, just like now, you don't give a damn about anyone else's opinions.  This fact will both help and hinder you.
  
• You're on lockdown at home.  This will continue until you move out.  People tell you they're afraid you're going to rebel because of the strictness of your parents - know now that they are completely right.  You just rebel totally differently than anyone will ever anticipate.

So I've got your attention.  Let me begin by telling you that the 8 years between you and me will be the shortest years of your life.  Soon you'll be 16 and then 18 and then 21 - and it'll all be a blur.  Don't let me scare you though - while you've made a few mistakes, you've learned from them and your life is now challenging - but extremely happy and fun.

In the next eight years there will be a major terrorist attack, a war based almost entirely on "truthiness" - a word that, as of now, does not exist - and a rising and falling economy.  The world will be at the brink of war - but when hasn't it been?  However, this war will affect your family in ways that even I do not yet know - yeah, this war isn't over.

During the next few years you will become an excellent speaker and will garner a lot of respect from your teachers; unfortunately, you will become a bit egotistical and will therefore become a mediocre student.  Maybe you want to change that now, but I can't say it's ever affected you much.

This egotism of yours will be a thinly veiled mask - you're unfortunately under confident and unsure of yourself.  So you cover it by spouting off random trivia and being the consummate know-it-all.  Looking back the only thing saving you from being a TOTAL douche is the fact that you're decent looking.  Oh and hey - you'll never be as tall as you'd like to be, so get the hell over THAT now.

Nothing that happens in HS will stick out as creating a particular impression on you but trust me - your school defines you as something totally different.  You live in a small town - a small COUNTRY town at that.  Occasionally the ideas and thoughts espoused by the natives of this town will come to complete odds with what you've learned from living your entire life (up to this year, in fact) in Germany.  Fortunately all the time you spent in other countries will help you in becoming understanding and patient with the beliefs of others, no matter how wrong you think they really are.  This will serve you well in the next few years.  I suspect it will serve us both well for the rest of our lives.

An odd thing will happen to you - you will be kicked out of your house a few months after turning 18.  Fortunately you established a loan on your 18th birthday that will (by this time) be paid off - so you'll move in to your first apartment the day after being kicked out;  it will happen that your first month will be free and no deposit will be required.  Serendipitous.  Your life will be a series of serendipitous events - please learn to be thankful soon.

In the above vein - your mother will have kicked you out for no apparent reason.  She's stressed.  This move will cause much fighting between your mother and father - you are the only child and your dad lived a hard life.  He's afraid to subject you to that.  Your mom will feel guilty about kicking you out for years after - never let her feel bad about it.  I haven't.  Again, things will work out for you ridiculously well.  Learn to be thankful please.

The day after (literally) you will meet an older girl at a club.  Her ex husband (who is one hundred pounds heavier and a half foot taller) will attack you.  Fortunately he is extremely drunk.  You will whoop his ass.  Realize now that it was because he was extremely drunk - not because you're a total badass.  Well, maybe a LITTLE because you're a total badass...  but anyway.

This event will set the next three years of your life in motion.  Little do you know this woman has a child.  A beautiful little blonde princess.  You will fall in love - and you will think it's because of the woman.  Know now it's the daughter - and know that your love for her will change your life forever.

You will land an excellent job at a Fortune 500 company and make a ridiculous amount of money for your age.  You will not appreciate this.  But you will use it to take care of said woman and little girl for the next two years.  You. Will. Grow. Up.  You will continue attending college, working full time and taking care of a family and you will sincerely enjoy it.  Unfortunately, this Pax Parad0x will end and you and woman will break up - not messily, but you will break up - and you will spend the rest of your time wondering how terribly this will affect her/your daughter.  I am still trying to make the adjustment as easy for her as possible and strongly suspect she will always be a part of my life.

If there is a lesson you can learn from this experience, it is this: You can not save everyone.

The next year plus will be spent in self-discovery.  Up to now you have avoided testing your personality out - seeing who you really are.

You'll meet a friend at work who will introduce you to the party scene - and you will have your first drink at twenty.  I know, I know - you hate the idea of alcohol now.  Fortunately, you will be responsible with its use - perhaps because you did not begin experimenting with it until a "late" age.  You will meet more friends - and you will buy a motorcycle. 

You will wreck it and come close to losing your life.  Look at your left hand now.  In 8 years it won't look quite that smooth.  Freddy Krueger.  Haha - just messin'.  It's not QUITE that bad.

This motorcycle purchase will be among your greatest ever regrets.

During all this you'll gain a roommate and best friend - oddly, this roommate was at the exact opposite spectrum during your high school years;  Everyone will be surprised by your friendship.  This will lead to your realization that people's perception really IS based on first experiences.  This will haunt your roommate for a while to come.

Within a few months you will be introduced to marijuana and you will enjoy its use immensely.  It will lead you to research the plant, it's origins, its effects on the body and the dangers of its use.  You will learn that your government began using this drug as a reason to persecute illegal immigrants - and you will learn that governments with too much power will never change.  You've always been interested in politics but never so much as after your first use of Cannabis Sativa. 

Now you are selling your house and going back to school full time.  You'll graduate in about 8 months and the world after that is your oyster.  I don't know what happens next, but I do know that one can see the future by studying the past.  So far things are looking good for you, kid. 

Don't screw it up.

Your best friend,
You



Now for the final rule - I'm tagging the following to complete this meme.  If you hate memes, get over it - you'll appreciate this one.

• Counsellor in Cultivation
• Kerstin
• Sara Sue (even though you may have already been tagged)
• Mybrid
• Angry Chavez

Thanks again to Mikey

I have a confession

I critique your MySpace page relentlessly.

I'm the guy who secretly mocks your inability to put coherent sentences together in your "About Me."  I know you can hear me in the back of your head.  I'm that vehement laugh.

I mock your dramatic headlines - "I need sweet surender from this life! [sic]"  I mock your pictures labeled "HoTtIE" - especially when you're NoTtIE.

I chuckle at your "mood updates."  "I want to be your first, your last - your one and only."  "All I'm waiting for is the chance to sweep you off your feet!"  Terrible game.  Terrible.

I am the lurker - the bastard whose opinions you always consider before pressing "Update Profile" - 'Will anyone think I'm dumb for posting this in my profile?"

Yes.  Me.  I do.

There.  I totally feel better.

Maybe I'm just not ready

So I stand on the edge of another "potential" relationship.

 

And I back away again.

 

I mean, relationships are good, right?  Fun?  Nice to have someone you trust and someone to talk to and all that, yeah?

 

So why do I find myself fighting against the one thing that people want most?  Part of it, I must admit, is that I'm just not feeling this girl that much.  She's great to hang out with...  definitely hot... going to school and all, so no worries there...  but somehow we're just not "connecting" on that level.  That line sound familiar to anyone?  

 

Maybe it's just that I'm not ready to take on anyone else's problems.  I have my own right now - I have a LOT to deal with.  Semester's ending, trying to sell my house... getting laid off at work. 

And you know relationships have that whole "listening" part to them where someone who has feelings for you and trusts you spills their guts to you and asks you for your advice and your help and a shoulder to cry on.  And I love being that.

 

But maybe my shoulders are a bit too filled with my own worries for me to take on someone else's.  Just thinking about helping a new relationship along seems wrong right now.  Like I'd kill it intentionally just to get it out of the way.

 

I guess I'll just do the right thing and end this now.  Better that than string her along, convincing myself that I'm just "taking it slow" when I'm really just stroking my own ego by telling myself I'm a good person for giving her attention.

 

Boy.  That's a post for you.

 

 

 

I can't wait to start toking again.

I'm so fucking sick of our government classifying a harmless, non-addictive, POSSBILY helpful substance as Schedule I - on the same level as heroin, methamphetamines and crack cocaine.

 

Really?

 

I think what bothers me most about this drug war is the BLATANT lies the Government has fed in to youth programs such as DARE.  I'm sorry, but I've smoked a lot of greenery and have never wanted to commit mass homicide or jump off of buildings.  Pot mellows me out.  The worst that's ever happened?  I've fallen asleep.

 

Unfortunately we continue to oppress users of a relatively safe substance - and we oppress them moreso than users of harder and more dangerous substances.  Urinalysis for instance - THCOOHC (do I have the requisite number of Os and Hs in there?) and other metabolites of THC are fat soluble and are therefore detectable from 7 days to three months (depending on the individual in question) after use.

 

Cocaine, a water-soluble (and proven addictive) substance, is usually indetectable in urine within 3.

 

So that means urinalysis are AUTOMATICALLY skewed against users of the most harmless (and third-most used) recreational drug in existence!

 

Fuck I'm sick of it. 

 

Once I pass this pee pee test I'm lightin blunt after blunt and toking till I pass out. 

 

Fucking government.

I Made Sweet Sweet Love

To this woman. Call her Angie. It's cool, really.

Actually, I didn't make sweet, sweet love - it was more sweet, sweet getting head until her husband (ironically, Tom Cruise) came bursting through my door in anger.

I mean who the HELL has these kind of dreams after the age of 16? Apparently, I do. And I'm not complaining at all, because Angelina is super fine.

The only thing I regret is being cockblocked by Tom Cruise. What an asshole.

But lovin' is the hardest part...

I have absolutely no feelings for anyone.  At all.

This may not seem a monumental statement in itself - but if you knew me better you'd be entirely shocked.  See, I have typically been an in-a-relationship person.  One would scarcely find me without a cute little thing on my arm - and one would scarcely find me in any state but... dare I say?  SPRUNG on that cute little thing.

As of today, though, I have been single for nearly one year.  No relationships - none I have even CONSIDERED starting - in the past twelve months.

So I have to wonder, again, is it me?  Have I allowed myself to become so battered by "love" and what comes with it (not to imply that I have been in love with all of the girls I've dated.  I've never been that hopeless) that I refuse to deal with it now?

No, I think not.  I think the problem is women.  I can read every one of them.  I can literally "foretell" any given woman's EXACT response to any given stimulus.  So much so that my friends have become coming to me for in-depth help with their 'game'.

For instance - I gave a close friend of mine a play-by-play of what to say to a new "potential" and also told him how to respond.  For instance's instance - she said she wasn't going to come out.  I told him she'd be there in thirty.  She was.  He asked her to come downstairs to pay her cover because she didn't have any money.  I told him - "She's just testing you dude." 

He went downstairs and she said?  "I have money.  I was just testing you."

That isn't the most in-depth example I can think of - anyone with any sense would have seen what I saw - but it gets better.  Anyway, back to my relationship quandary.

I think what I'm looking for is a woman whose actions I can't anticipate to a tee.  Someone over whom I don't have the guaranteed upper hand in this game of courtship.

By the way - that's what I love about this blog.  It's about nothing in particular - truly just a place for me to rant about anything that's on my mind.  I've given myself over to the idea that I don't HAVE to have anything super-story-like to tell in order for me to post.  With that in mind, here's hoping for more posts in the future.  Anyway, back to the point of this particular post...

Any takers?

Those CRAZY aliens!

UFO Files (or whatchamacallit) on the History Channel is awesome. This guy says fibre optic developments have the Roswell UFO to thank! Sneaky!

Those crazy aliens.

Give nothing

To those who seek their satisfaction in your destruction

Who feel best when in pity you wallow

 

Give nothing

 

No ground, nor tears

to those whose gladness grows from your grief

 

Give nothing

 

No time nor thought

but press forth on your way to greatness

in spite of those who wish you ill

and who in your greatest moments of distress

Feel their greatest moments of triumph

 

Give nothing

 

Take all

I hate the job hunt

Actually, I don't. The job hunt is pretty simple. I just hate all the decisions that come along with it - do I take this job or that job - and the inevitable "what if I had chosen the other position" thoughts - those suck.

I also hate urinalysis. Especially after a vacation. I completely disagree with them (completely) but they're a part of our world now. A shitty part, to be sure.

I'm still not sure what to do about my house. The housing market is terrible everywhere right now - my home could be listed for four months before it's ever sold! - so I have to pay for it for at least that long anyway.

I guess this is the part of my life when shit gets a little hard. My time for adversity, as it were.

I wonder what lessons I'll learn from this.

Maaaaann

It's so damn easy to find flaws in the new women I meet.  Even if I think they're drop dead gorgeous.

She's too pushy - I can't stand that. 

She's too needy.  I can't take that right now.

She's too slutty.  That was fun last year but I'm done with that.

Can you say JAAAAAAAAAAAADED?

Time to Sell

Man, I don't want to sell my house.  But I need to.

 

Up to now my need to sell and get this debt (and other debt) out of my life has been countered by the fact that my house is the illest ever.  I mean, four big bedrooms and a big living room - plus, this has been our crew's chill spot forever.

 

So much green has been toked in this house.  So many good times.  So many girls girls girls, both dating and otherwise.

 

But I HAVE to let this house go.  There are so many cool things I can do without a mortgage payment - like, go to school full time ...  travel to Europe for a few weeks (I haven't been home forever - home is Germany, by the by).

 

So someone convince me that I'm doing the right thing.

Back from Vegas

It was a blast.

Went with a buddy and stayed with another friend "up in Anthem".  Really nice pad overlooking a beautiful golf course - better than any hotel on the strip, and totally free.  Good friend!

This was my first time in Vegas and I was glad I could spend it with people who knew the city instead of being a tourist.  I got to play some great golf - even if we had to sneak on to a few of the courses at midnight - whatev.  And man did I smoke the finest and tastiest of ganja possible. 

That isn't to say I didn't party down.  We hit the strip a few times with a good sized crew - one totally fine chick that I wanted to talk to so bad because she's the classy type - not the look at my huge titties and ass but the i'm-not-a-slut-so-i-don't-dress-like-one fine kind.  Too bad she's married - nice rock on the finger there.

Vegas puts my city to shame.  I feel like life is being sucked from me at an accelerated rate.  Fortunately I've finally realized that I can go wherever I want to.  I have no true ties - I can do whatever the fuck I want.  Once college is done, that is.  

Man I wish I had some of that smoke right now.

<3 and miss you!! x0x0oxoxox

Not really. 

Fags.

So the big Boss walks by...

while I'm kibitzing with another employee and asks me what I'm doing.

 

"Oh, you know - chillin'."

 

Didn't realize it was her.  Not the right response. 

The hardest thing I've ever learned...

was when to shut up.

And I don't think I'm the only one.  Sometimes one is overcome with the urge to continue speaking after saying something stupid.  One falsely believes that continuing talking might be considered "normal" or "charming."  One does not notice that the looks of severe concern on ones colleagues faces are probably masking deep boredom and disinterest in the topic one shares. 

That's why I'm glad I blog.

Blogging: For People Who Just Can't Shut Up.

And I love it.

Backstabbed

Severely backstabbed at work.  Between two competing companies.  Fortunately, I'm in the right - but I'm angry that company policy was so readily ignored.  Precedents that would make it seem feasible to seek legal action anyone?  I'm not a fan of blathering on in regards to corporate lawsuits but I won't be trampled on.

Seething with rage I be.  But, like, the take-responsible-action rage not that..  you know, other kind. 

In other news, Marilyn Manson is satan.

That is all.

The Birds and Bees

"The point of sex is procreation," Aidan said rather assertively. 

 

 "Nay," said I.  "The point of sex is orgasm." 

 

 "Dude, animals have sex to have kids.  Even humans.  It's part of ensuring our species survives." 

 

"Really?  How many people do you know that have sex and habitually stop before reaching climax." 

 

He looked at me funny.

 

"None."

 

"Funny thing, though - I know people who regularly use some sort of birth control to avoid having children."

 

Aidan flashed a defeated smile and toasted to continual orgasmic enjoyment. 

 

"As always," I reminded him, "I am right.  You are wrong."

Hunting Prey

Women, take heed of this post.  Perhaps it will give you insight in to what guys are thinking when they see you, a sexy, hopefully single woman, in line in public.

 

These are the things we - or maybe just I - pay attention to when you're conversing with your friends.

 

So cute potential single walks in to line.  She's wearing scrubs so she's a nurse of some kind.  I like what I see.  She begins talking to her friend who just happens to be in front of me in line - she gives me a cursory glance and a smile so I pay attention.

 

During their conversation I pick the following sentences out and immediately interpret them, adding the comments relevance to my "talk to her" scale.  If they sound good, I'll talk.  If not, I will move on.

 

Sentence 1:  "Cathy is working my Saturday and Sunday."

My Interp: You have tonight and tomorrow off.  This is great news. 

 

Sentence 2:  "Joann at work is being a real bitch about following rules she says exist.  I've never heard them before.  I'll have to look through the handbook to find out if she's just pulling my chain."

My Interp:  Nice.  You're having problems at work and you don't require the brawn of a man to solve them.  Independence is attractive.

 

Sentence 3:  "Well, I couldn't be at work Tuesday because he had an appointment."

My Interp:  You either have a boyfriend/husband or a kid.  Probably a kid because most men are capable of taking themselves to their appointments which means you could have gone to work.  Either that or you're taking care of your senile father - either way, I'm not ready for the kind of commitment any of these possibilities will inevitably lead you to expect. 

 

That simple.  The lesson here?  Watch what you say ladies!  This girl probably didn't have any reason to watch what she said, but for those of you who are single and looking - we do listen rather intently and will take any off or odd sounding comment as a potential alarm.

 

What fun this game is!

New Age - New Background

In honor of my 22nd I'm changing my blog's background to another one.  This particular design has all the elements I enjoy in webdesign - nice coloring, cool vectors and, perhaps most important of all, someone else's blood sweat and tears.  Not mine.

 

Unfortunately I have some editing to do on the layout as my name is clearly not Marten Timan - although I suppose the name could suffice as a perfect alias in ten years when my being spurned in the corporate world leads me to a life of crime.  Just remember - if you see Marten Timan on the FBI Most Wanted list it probably isn't me.

 

If this loads a bit slow at first it's because all of the images that belong to this design are on imageshack.  I'll have to download the images and move them to another server because the worst possible thing I can imaging occuring involves imageshack's infamous Frogs of Death.  You know the ones - "This image has exceeded it's bandwidth and we are attacking you with frogs because of it."

 

So bear with me and enjoy Marten Timan's hard work. 

I'm a little bit Jaded

So this new girl and I aren't going to work out.  I've tried to keep it on a fun level but she keeps finding ways to delve in to the serious, serious side of relationships - and I can't take that right now.

 

I considered why after a throughly rousing delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol filled evening.

 

I'm just not quite over my last "relationship."

 

That little bitch was a doozy.  I'm not sure how she managed it, but she got me extremely, extremely caught up in her.  Bad.  And it all ended with me catching her cheating on me in a nearby club by (almost) complete accident.

 

I don't think that really bothered me so much as her repeated protests that "we were never really together anyway.  We're just friends."  This girl constantly told me she wanted me all to herself and led me to believe that we were, in fact, "together."

 

But it was all games with this one.  She's the first (and only) girl I've ever (and will ever) said "I love you" to without meaning it at all.  I used it the same way she did - as a game.  I got so wrapped up in her that I PLAYED her sadistic, psychotic bitch game.

 

Basically, my most recent memory of relationships involves something that was technically non-existent and so filled with hocus bullshit lies it would make your head spin.

 

So sorry Current Girl.  I can't do this right now.

You really don't sound that scary over the phone.

I mean it.  You don't intimidate me with your faux-deep voice, high school vocabulary and your favorite phrase: "Tell me what the fuck is going on."

 

What's going on is this:  you're an idiot.  You messed up your own account.  Now I have the opportunity to fix this tragic error of yours and you have a choice:

 

Continue being a dick or chill the fuck out.

 

"To be or not to be?" really.  That IS the fucking question, douchebag. 

 

So either chill or pay the three hundred fifty dollars in charges you racked up that you don't feel you should have to pay because you "didn't receive the bill for it."

 

One or the other.  Cuz I run this shit.   That's what the fuck is going on.

Pot makes lazy

So lazy I chose to make that an incoherent title, fitting of the laziness I'm trying to describe.

But I deserve a break this weekend.

Went out of town to check out a job fair.  Spoke to a few ladies from contracting companies.  The first was shooing people ahead of me away - was going to do the same thing to me until she read my resume.  Plus I'm bilingual - yes, German counts.  Her words, "I have a feeling a recruiter will be contacting you soon."  Maybe she's being fake.  Maybe not.  Maybe she just wants my bolls een herr mouuff.  Who knows?

Interview today with Major Communications Company for a veritable lateral move.  Four dollar an hour raise, sure - but the same bullshit I've been doing since I was 18.  Have to remember I'm only 21.  The interviewer seemed like she was trying to cover something up with pure bitchiness.  Intimidation?  After reading that, maybe she just thinks I'm a cocky asshole.  But I'm good at this job - great at it - and I know it.  And I know how this organization works now that I'm no longer a stupid 18 year old.  I will play it.

Anyway, she was being unnecessarily snippy.  Trying to scare me.  No ma'am - not a chance.  I opened the door for her - she said, "are you all right?"  What...?  Yes.  I'm fine.  Opening the door for you.  Maybe this org. is weird about it's sexual harassment policy. 

Also - if you're gaming and you don't have the stick get the FUCK out of the gamer chair.  At such time as you relinquish the stick to another, so to do you relinquish the cherished Gamer Seat.

Asshole.  You know who you are.

Small Town Syndrome

I come from a small town.  Well, I don't really COME from this town - I was born and raised in another country and then spent my teenage years in this small town...  so let's just say I GREW UP in a small town.

Anyway, there's a syndrome closely associated to small towns that affects nearly everyone who comes out of them - much like HIV generally infects a child in a mother's womb.

It's called "early marriage and kids."

I'm writing about this today for one reason: I'm seeing more and more of my 20-something friends getting married and having kids. 

Now, there's nothing wrong with settling down and having kids early if that's what you choose to do.  But I notice a huge disparity in the number of people from big cities who settle down young and those from small towns who do the same.  I'd like to make a statistic up here and say that 52.8% of the people I grew up with are married with kids and 22.6 are engaged to be married and/or pregnant - the remainder (whatever percentage that may be - screw fact checking) are either in serious relationships or have been abducted by aliens - or they're me.

Allow me to indulge myself further by making another statistic up - people from nearby Austin, Texas who are in my age group have a much lower rate of married/pregnants - a mere 18.654% (more decimal points mean more accuracy - and accuracy is crucial when one is pulling statistics from ones ass).

Now, we can see two things from these statistics - 1.) They are made up.  and 2.) People in small towns get married a lot sooner than those in big cities.

This brings me to my point.  I know, I know - I went through a lot to get here - but now that we're here, let's enjoy.

Jacob, my closest friend from High School, is getting married.

Jacob is 22 and works at a nearby grocery store.

Now, we're already on the wrong foot here - but here's the shocker.  He's "pretty sure" he's in love with her.  Pretty sure. 

"Why are you doing this, Jakey?" you might ask.  The answer?  "Everyone else at home is doing the same thing!"

God.  Damn. 

</rant>

Man...

I always have SUCH great stuff to write about when I'm in bed.  I say to myself, "Self, you're gonna blog that shizzle tomorrow morning."

Alas, Self tends to forget the content of Self's thoughts leaving me with useless drivel such as this for your entertainment.

 

In other news, I saw some cracked out whores (maybe not whores - probably would have had sex for free) yesterday morning.

 

What a world we live in.

Dinner and a Blowjob

How can I refuse?

The correct answer: I cannot.

You know the last time I had a woman that was not only willing, but HAPPY to give me oral even though I couldn't reciprocate thanks to a certain monthly occurrence?

Never. Especially not one as downright fucking hot as this one.

To all my readers - thanks for the comments. I assure you I'll respond as soon as I can.

In the meantime, my penis awaits stimulation.

Life is Spinning

So some crazy stuff is going on in my life... last Thursday our division president came down from on high and let us know our office would be closing in mid-January.

Initially I was a bit relieved - "I hate this place, I hate this job, I hate our stupid customers, I hate I hate I hate" - but these past few days my head has been spinning. I've been tired... exhausted, really. Depressed.

I've done a little introspection and it all boils down to this:

This place is my identity.

This place is why I've been making more money than anyone within ten years of my age since I was 18. This place is why I was able to afford a house at a 5% interest rate at 19 years old. This place is why I'm proud of who I am and what I've achieved. Thanks to this place I've created an entire corporate intranet site from scratch, by myself, from start to finish, at 21 years old.

All of my accomplishments that separate me from everyone else are right here. And I've never been one to like being "just like everyone else."

Losing this job means I may have to start over. I may have to sell my beautiful 4-bedroom 2-bathroom makes-me-look-like-I-make-100k-a-year house. I may have to go back to making $11.00 an hour just like everyone else does. I may, just for a little while, go back to being a part of the "norm."

I have no idea how I'll handle having to create a new identity for myself.

Spin spin spin spin spin spin spin spin ... and end up on my feet anyway.

That's the goal at least.

Wow...

Improper usage of "in lieu" in my last post.  An error that I would normally not allow to pass my editing.  Mom must have made me really mad.

 

My apologies for assaulting your intellect, dear reader.

 

My sincerest apologies.

 

:)

This is hilarious... and other news.

New type of stop sign?  Check that out here: http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,298599,00.html

 

In other news, I'm still talking to the girl from last week.  Man did my strategy ever work.  She is what we call "sprung" - her words, not mine.  Seriously - text message says:  "Wow you've got me spruuuuung."  Out of nowhere.

 

So what do I do?  Take it slow.  That's what.  Slow slow slow slow slow.  If there's anything I've learned about fast springs is that they're usually followed by even faster endings.

 

Also - my mother just pissed me off more than she ever has.  We agreed I'd do some work for her for $50.00 per weekend.  That money has really helped out in lieu of the recent work problems and my roommate having trouble paying rent.  Well, she gets pissed at me out of nowhere and without explanation does the job herself.  I was counting on that money for food for the week (yes, these past few months have been THAT bad) and it's just gone.  I'm so furious I've hung up on her 4 times during conversation - something I have NEVER, EVER, EVER done. 

 

Fortunately I got the best head ever last night.

 

That is all.

 

Laying the Daddy Dick

I've made two decisions in the past six months.  One - no sleeping with chicks that I don't find EXTREMELY attractive.  Two - when I find a chick that I find EXTREMELY attractive, lay the Daddy Dick Down.

This is what occurred last night.  The Daddy Dick was laid down.  If you don't know what that means you may need to a.) go practice having amazing sex or b.) go find a new partner.

Anyway - laying the DD is key to continuing sexual relationships with hot women.  There's a cardinal rule - lay it down well enough the first time and they'll always let you back.  Always.  There are temporary exceptions such as boyfriends and affiances that get in the way on occasion - but when it comes down to it: give her some amazing dick and you'll have a special place in her heart forever.

Mission Daddy Down: Accomplished.

You know those toll free numbers on food product labels?

Well, I called one today. Here's the transcript of our conversation:

Rep: Thanks for calling Van Camp. This is ****. How may I help you?
Me: Hey. My name's **** and I work for Texas Fitness, a company based out of Arkansas. One of my clients has a very important question.
Rep: Okay. How can I help?
Me: You know your beanie weenie product? Exactly what is the ratio of beanies to weenies?
Rep: Uhhhh...
Me: In other words, how many beanies per weenie in a can of Beanie Weenies?
Rep: Umm. I don't know, but I can have our health gurus research this and get back to you.
Me: *Tee hee hee hee*

Taking a Step Forward by Taking One Backward

My house is becoming too expensive.

 

While I've been incredibly proud of being able to purchase a house at 19, it's time to eat my pride and sell this damn thing.  Taking on a house has also meant taking on an incredible amount of debt - an INCREDIBLE amount - and it's eating away at me day by day.  I've never been so broke as I am now - and I have no right to be broke with my pay.  My house payment is going up ANOTHER hundred dollars a month thanks to rampant tax hikes (it JUST went up $100.00 at the beginning of this year)...

 

So yeah.  Big life change. 

 

I figure with the profits from my home sales and about 6 months of living with a friend at an extremely low rate o' rent I should be completely debt free (minus a car payment) by the end of that period.

 

Thank goodness.

Really?

This girl has been jocking me for over two months now and I've given her absolutely no indication that I am in any way interested - which is to say that I've given her EVERY indication that I am NOT interested.

However - I manage to do this while being a perfect gentleman. Which, in retrospect, is probably the problem because women can't take fucking hints and require men to be complete assholes in order to get their points across. But I digress.

Last night this all came to a proverbial head. Why proverbial? Because.

She comes up to me at the bar and says to me, "Do you even know my name?"

Yeah, really. That just happened.

After responding with an of course and repeating her name (I asked her if she'd forgotten it - she hadn't.) our conversation took a wrong turn.

It turned on to Lie Ville.

Her: "Sorry about those text messages I sent you the other night. I was drunk."
Me: "No, it's cool. I know you were trashed. We've all been there - don't worry about it."

Her: "No really - I'm super embarassed. I can't believe I did that."
Me: "No worries. Let's not even bring it up. How've you been?"

Her: "But don't worry - I actually sent that message to like, nine guys. I didn't even mean to send that to you - so it's okay."
Me (having had enough): "I don't know what's worse - that you're lying to my face or the fact that you might really have sent that message to nine other guys."

Her (much later, an aside to a friend): "He's obviously gay."

Wow.

When the green is away the sex drive will play...

Sucks. I've purposely avoided trying to get laid all the time in order to focus on more important things - like getting totally blazed. And school and work, of course.

See, this semi-constant state of being really baked has tamed my otherwise overzealous sex drive amazingly well. I have fewer "relationship" problems - probably the result of not being in a relationship for, oh... all year. My phone doesn't ring at ALL hours of the night because someone needs a widdle bit of attention (there IS a cost to sex. They call it "paying attention" for a reason!) My text messages aren't counted in the five-or-six-thousands per month - which is also great.

However, indulging in the green must be slowed. How unfortunate - I have other priorities to manage. Such as peeing in a cup.

This means I'm going to want to get laid more and more and more and more and more. This also means spending time to "spit game" at the local women. But as you may remember (if you're the .5 person that reads this blog - statistics don't lie people!) I'm not a big fan of the local women. Because they all know each other. EVERY. LAST. ONE. If I explained to you the amount of times I've been CB'd (read: cock blocked) by some jealous ex I'd fill a book.

So this leaves me at a crux.

The solution is simple. All my female readers should come and put out immediately.

Thank You.

An Update

Work sucks.

A good friend of mine got the job I wanted but wasn't given the opportunity to apply for because of said attendance problem almost one year ago. I'm glad for her but I deserved an opportunity to interview. Unfortunately my company has the worst attendance policy in the world so I'll never be able to interview for any job. Which is why I have other interviews scheduled this week. If my company won't use my talents I'll find someone that will. What's that? Your computer doesn't work? That sucks - I work in another town altogether. Good luck getting the IT guy that's never there to do the job he's been paid to do. He's too used to me doing it now. Oh, and that website I built for our division? That one that has made us look "so good"? That's mine.

Remind me to never check my blog at work again.

Rivers, however, are fun. A ton of us went out for a float. Awesome time.

That is all.

I'm moving to Ikea.

Literally. I told my roommate I'm selling my house tomorrow and moving in to the Icky. My GOD. I love getting out of this shitty town and heading to the Austin area - the environment is entirely different. The biggest thing, I think, is the male:female ratio here. It's literally 2 guys for every girl. This = not many singles.

Austin, however, is not at all the same. You may not know this but it's among the top 10 (perhaps number one - I don't feel like googling it though) cities in the United States for dating. Tons of singles around my age.

Which brings me to Ikea. My GOD. I saw some of the nicest asses I've ever seen today. In fact, I saw one girl with whom I am already in love - though I've never spoken to her. My GOD. Gorgeous. Probably the most attractive girl I've seen in a while (perhaps ever).

Know what the great thing about Ikea is? It's a big fucking circle that you've got to go around and around and around. This means I see the same beautiful asses over and over and over. I saw the aforementioned beauty about six times - and made quite sure she knew I'd seen her. Then I saw her again at the checkout counter - each time that amazing ass popping out behind her. MMMMM. Brunette, green eyes... tan skin - about 5'6. Beautiful smile, too. I love you, whatever your name is. Oh, and that was a nice engagement ring you had on.

I can't wait 'til I'm done with this fucking degree. It's movin' time.

Why do I do this to Myself?

Long night last night.

I called two of my buddies to see if they want to go grab some food and we headed out to Hooters.  As it turns out, one of my buddies - who bartends (is that a word?  Firefox wants me to correct it) at a big bar in the city - knows all these girls because they come to his bar all the time.

Anyway, three pitchers in to the night we find out the Hooters girls are going out.  My buddy's off - so we go out.

Mistake.

See, I came in to work on Sunday morning HUNG OVER.  Vomiting.  Sickly.  It would be a mistake to come in hung over again, right?  And with a bartender for a friend - especially this one in particular - it's only natural to expect to get trashed.

And trashed is what I got.

We walked in to the club - no cover.  Shot after shot after shot - no charge. 

See, I've come to the conclusion that having to pay for ones drinks is sometimes good.  You know, for those rare occasions that you go out in hopes of NOT getting fucked up.  Having to spend money slows down drinking progress.

There was no such slowdown last night.  Shot.  Shot.  Hey let's go take a shot.  Shot?

And then back to my house to get even more trashed.

Here I am - writing this from work. 

FUCK.

Words of Wisdom from a Subway Venture

Call it what you will - "Wrong"-way, Jared's Fun House... Subway is a veritable crockpot of wisdom.

Take this tidbit from a group of teenagers who were strategically positioned directly BEHIND me as I stood in line:

Young Dude #1: "Man, I'm glad I'm not one-hundred and four."

Then later on that minute...

Young Dude #2: "Man, when I hit seventy I'm going to go buy a viper. I'm gonna take that thing down the highway as fast I can and the COPS are gonna take me out. Death by high-speed chase."

Young Dude #3: "Yeah dude - I'm gonna go skydiving. And I'm not gonna pull the chute."

I laughed out loud at all of this. Amazing what our youth do to prepare themselves for old age.

Amazing.

An Accurate Fortune Cookie

This was the fortune cookie I received at lunch:

Today is a disastrous day.
If you can't beat em, join em.

I found out today I didn't get an interview for the job I would have been guaranteed were it not for work issues I had last year.

My boss says she would play the lottery numbers printed on the fortune cookie. In fact, she says she'd play them every day for the next week.

Amazing, eh?

On to happier things...

I do my best to catch a movie at our theater at least once a week. Although the inflated prices of EVERYTHING does leave me with a bit of a shitty, flesh-eating-acid taste in my mouth I buy my tickets anyway. Why?

Because it's worth it.

There's a lot to be said for the joy of watching a movie at the big screen with Dolby x.xx surround sound (technology moves so quickly!), ass quaking in your seat as you spill nacho cheese on your brand new flops. Not to mention your feet! Mmm... hot nacho feet...

But anwyay.

Hot Rod was hilarious. If you liked Napoleon Dynamite you'll like this one just as much. This is, quote my roommate, "one of those movies you have to see again." The movie was just as stupid as ND but the plot was much more substantial. Where ND only barely nudged at an attempt at progressive storyline before moving to its next bare nudge, Hot Rod shares a complete thought with the audience before moving on to its next awesomely jackassed cut. I don't want to give any of the story away - I want you to be completely surprised by the absolute genius of the plot. Geniusly stupid.

Meanwhile, Bourne Ultimatum was pure genius. My bad if you don't like seeing two positive reviews of a movie on the same page - you're fucked.

That movie was awesome. Bourne owns faces. Multiple faces - all at once. He's like, "Hey! Your face is MINE." But he can use both hands and feet and his head all at once to own lots of those gesicthen.

Spoiler Warning: Plot Details .. of a sort.. follow

Basically the movie starts with Bourne being a badass and figuring shit out. Then it proceeds to him whoopin' lots of ass. Moves shortly thereafter to fig'ring more stuff out while SIMULTANEOUSLY WHOOPIN' ASS! Then just straight whoops ass, gets a chick kinda sprung on him without ANY effort - kicks some MORE ass and gets a little bit beat up himself because (as I've mentioned in this blog before) motherf*ckers can't drive - and then figures more shit out then kicks a little ass.

My bad for ruining the movie for you.

Bullshit of all bullshit - Illegal Immigration Rant

My friend returned last weekend from a trip to the Texas/Mexico border.  Said friend is a National Guard member who helps patrol border towns in an attempt to find illegal immigrants.  However, his team are not hunting illegals down to force them back to Mexico.  Quite to the contrary, they are providing free medical and dental services to any takers.  "We don't even ask them for ID," says friend.  "We take over churches, hospitals - whatever - with the express goal of giving immigrants free medical."

 

A noble cause, to be sure - but it's bullshit.

 

It's bullshit because another very close friend of mine recently lost his job (ergo his medical and dental insurance) and now has a problem with a tooth that needs dire attention.  He can't eat solid food his tooth is killing him so much.  The costs to correct this issue will easily mount to $800- 1000.00 even with discount generic antibiotics and (hopefully discount and generic) painkillers.

 

I'm all about helping other nationals who need help - I have no problem with the IDEA of illegal immigrants (especially if they pay taxes, though many do not) - but you know what?  If an American citizen in need can't find help and our military (reserve or otherwise) is PROACTIVELY offering medical assistance to <em>non-citizens</em> we have a severe problem.

 

Anyone who can suggest methods of assistance for my friend would be much appreciated.  In the meantime I'm going to go dunk my steaming head in cold water.

Why we don't discuss religion at work

I was the victim of a "better-than-thou" discussion earlier this week.

 

A middle-aged gentleman in my office began ranting about how much better he'd be doing than I am now were he like me: young, good-looking, single (his words, not mine.  Not that I'd disagree).  He explained how he'd have a huge 401k, own a house and so on so forth.

 

I quickly rebutted by telling him I DO own my own house, I DO have a nicely stocked 401k and I'm almost done with my first of two degrees.

 

He responded, "Wow!  You're doing well for yourself.  Nice house, good job, getting an education..."

 

"...now all you need is Jesus!"

 

I had to leave the room to avoid slapping the shit out of him. 

Choices..

An election year is right around the corner and we have some of the most diverse REALISTIC choices this country has ever had. A woman and African American male are finally possible candidates for president! One hundred - nay, fifty! nay, twenty! - years ago such a thing could never have been imagined.

I'm glad our country has finally progressed this far.

You know, I think I'm leaning towards Obama for this job. Not because of his "issues" or his "experience" - if anything those would be strikes against him.

I like him because he's young and he's different. I'm tired of seeing rich white guys in office. They all do the same thing. Talk. I'm interested in seeing what a rich black guy is going to do for our country.

Perhaps a bit more social reform?

Perhaps an administration that doesn't just throw MONEY at our problems?

Perhaps more effort towards peaceful relationships with the rest of the world - from the middleground. No more pure ass-kissing; no more gunning down countries we don't like.

Most will argue that he's a weak candidate due to lack of "experience." Forgive me - but what qualifies ANYONE to run the greatest country on the planet? Nothing. That's what. What people call "experience" usually refers to the time politicians have spent fucking their constituents over.

I think I'd prefer someone with less experience than I would someone who's a practiced lying prick.

Just my two hundred thousand million billion rupees.

Energy Drinkers Anonymous

Up to now I've been a massive energy drink addict. I'd pound 40+ ounces of pure, green/blue/red/orange/purple/teal/indigo CANNED energy per day. I had no choice - without my Canned Energy I was energy-less.

I'm happy to say I've recovered. "How?" you may ask. To which I would reply:



Yes folks. Arizona Green Tea. A lifesaver - and a money saver. For the price of ONE energy drink I can purchase a week's supply of this Green Green Golden Green Golden Delicious Purple Goodness.

And just to get more visitors:



If it worked for my buddy at Tongue in Check it'll work for me!

I Killed Someone Today

How's THAT for a dramatic title?

I finished the final Harry Potter book today - finally - and enjoyed it very much. Obviously the most interesting of the series for many reasons, and also the best book in terms of writing and style. Rereading the entire series one will see the evolution JK Rowling has gone through as an author - akin to the difference between John Mayer's pop-rocky Room For Squares CD of old and his grown-up jazz-blues Continuum today.

I think watching this evolution is what makes art so interesting, whether written, sung or drawn.

Speaking of singing - man, Nelly Furtado is hot. Grr.

Per requests from one of my two readers I'm off to Xerox my ass. As for the job - I've got a firm "maybe."

Standing in Line

I hate standing in line.

 

Now, I'm not a particularly nervous person.  Nor do I suffer from low self-esteem.  I'm not paranoid either.  But am I the only one who feels like I'm being watched by the entire world whenever I'm standing in line? 

 

Seriously, I feel like every passerby and sitter-by around has got their beady little eyes focused intently in my direction. 

 

This "attention" makes me think I should be doing something. 

 

So I take action.  I pull out my cell phone.  I look around for no reason.  I fidget with my feet and hands.

 

For no reason.

 

Man do I hate standing in line.

 

 

 

 

Trapped by a Product of my own Device

It's very likely that I'm about to a learn a lesson in reaping what I sow.

 

There's a position open at my company that I've wanted for a long time.  In fact last time it was open I applied and interviewed for it.  At that time there was one candidate more suited to the position than I.

 

Now I'm by far the best pick for the job.

 

Unfortunately, three months ago I got in to the sort of trouble that makes one ineligible for even APPLYING for a new position.  For a year.

Did I mention this trouble occurred three months ago?  You may note that's not quite a year.

 

I'll find out Thursday whether or not I'll be allowed to apply for this position.

 

I'll keep ya posted.

Who the hell thinks up these street names?

"Desert Willow?"

Come on people. Nothing in this town - NOT ONE THING - will back up this street name's assertion that at one time the famed Desert Willow roamed the land.

This ridiculous street name matches the plethora of other ridiculous street names indicative of A Little Big City. You'll note I capitalized each word in that phrase - remember this. This fact will be important later on in this post.

Other examples of ridiculous street names:

Waterproof Drive

Beachball Drive

Sand Dollar Drive

In case you're wondering - yes, all of these street names (including the first one mentioned in this post) are in the same new subdivision.

The cause of these ridiculous names is obvious - developers are creating property here at a rate too quick to support the clearheaded research and review of potential names. They pick a theme and run with it.

I can imagine this conversation occuring during city development meetings - or whatever the hell they call the meetings where the rich guys get together to decide the fate of ... the universe, probably.

Oh, forgot my colon:

"Hey Billy Bob McRich. Good to see you again."
"Good to see you too David McMoney! Don't you just HATE being rich?"
"NOPE!"
"ME NEITHER!"
"My wife wants to decorate our bathroom to fit a beach theme. Coincidentally, we've got a new development coming up. Let's think of the stupidest possible names and PRINT SOME STREET SIGNS!"
"Sweet Jesus! Hey, don't you just hate being rich?"
"I sure do.... ooooon't! HAHAHAAA!"

I have a feeling my imagination isn't far from the truth.

Oh, remember how I mentioned the importance of the capitalization of a phrase earlier? I lied. It wasn't important.

Did it make you read all the way til the end?

Either I'm a genius or our media is too obvious

"Chris Benoit's toxicology report!  Steroids found!"

 

The above was the headline to a Benoit broadcast on CNN's Nancy Grace.

 

All I had to say (and I said it rather loudly - in the middle of a crowded gym) was "DUUUUUUUUUUUH!"  Are you serious?  Forgive me but aren't exclamation points supposed to imply surprise?  Are you surprised?  Because I'm not.

 

Honestly I knew how this would play out from day one.  Once I heard the news I told my friend the following:

 

1. There will be another family murder reported within days of this incident.  It will receive minimal media attention and will in fact only serve to fill in the gap between the report of the Benoit death and the return of the toxicology report.
2. Another wrestler is going to die.  Steroids are going to be implicated as the cause for his death.
3. Someone in wrestling is going to say something like, "We're going to raise our standards!"  Much analysis of this statement will be done by major media.  The analysis will be pointless.
4. The doctor who gave Benoit his steroids will be linked to several more pro wrestlers and athletes.  He will be crucified by the media.  Hw will likely serve jail time (this hasn't happened yet).

I used more casual words than those outlined above but the message is clear - either I'm psychic or the media does the same thing over and over and over and over and over.

 

Hint: I'm not psychic.

 

STUPID MEDIA PEOPLE FACES!

Oh sweet, sweet sleep

It's so hard for me to get to sleep.

 

I think it's because my schedule is so ridiculous.  Wake up at 7, work from 7:45 to 4:45 (sometimes 5:45), go to school from 5 to 10:30, eat, play - get to bed at some time between midnight and one o'clock.

 

This sleep debt I'm accumulating is starting to suck so much I can't even catch up on sleep properly during my weekends.

 

Enter: diphenhydramine.

 

Sold in tons of products such as antihistamines like Benadryl and sleeping aids like Simply Sleep.

 

My little miracle.

 

Anybody else have trouble sleeping?

 

It sucks.  Bad.

Enzyte

Gargh! 

 

I have the Enzyte song in my head!  "Doot doo doo doo... duh doo doo da doo.  Doo doo doo doo dudu dooo!"

 

Here's hoping this puts it in your head too.  I don't want to suffer alone.

 

<3

Wrong Thing to Say

I felt like Chinese last night so I went to a restaurant down the street to grab some grub to go.

During the usual flirtation/conversation with the female staff I noticed I was being bitten by a mosquito.

"Man, ya gotta mosquito in here."

"Yeah, we have all KINDS of bugs in this place."

....awkward silence....

"You really shouldn't say things like that."

Missed Event

Man am I disappointed.

 

My team missed a gaming tournament in Dallas this weekend because we thought it began a day later than it was actually scheduled to.

 

One of our members came all the way from Corpus Christi (the rest of us are local) to play - for nothing.  Poor guy spent 120.00 on a ticket to get here just to hang around town and shoot the shit.  Not that shit shooting is bad - it's an admirable sport.

 

Bad business eh? 

 

In other news Summer semester is almost over!  YAY!

 

<3

So long since I be bloggins!

Terrible I know.

 

I'm sure you've all been waiting at the edge of your seat for my next post.  I'm sure of it. 

 

Well, here it is.

 

I never got to my review of 1408.  You know what?  I'm not going to get to it.

 

Instead let's discuss my weekend.  Man was I hammered.  Friday night my friends and I went to a local club and got wasted.  Patron shot after Patron shot after Patron shot.  I woke up next day feeling like crap the next day SURE I wouldn't be getting trashed again that night.

 

Now, I'm rarely wrong.  Even more rarely completely off the mark.

 

But I went to a pool party at my buddy's house and got... hammered.  Again.  Man.  Crown Royale was bad enough but when someone brought Jello shots made with the highest concentration of Everclear I'd ever seen successfully mixed with gelatinous substances I was fooked.  It was over.

 

My toilet bowl was red that night.  Red with fruit-punch flavored jello and Everclear.  At least my toilet was disinfected - it smelled like it was full of rubbing alcohol.

 

I hope to have a more substantial post later this week - but no promises.  I'm *almost* sure I won't be drunk again for a while though. 

 

ALMOST.

Movie Time!

Saw 1408 last night.  Had a pretty good time.  Let's talk about that.

 

BUT FIRST.

 

Let's talk about hypocrisy in Hollywood. 

 

You know those pre-trailer advertisements that flash on the screen while random singles play in the background?  You know the ones.  With public service announcements and advertisements for local fried-chicken places and stuff.  Yeah, those.

 

So a screen promoting abstinence comes up.  "It's worth the wait."

 

The background music to these images?  Natasha Beddingfield's "I Wanna Have Your Babies."

 

I'm sorry - what?  I'm getting mixed messages.  Is this your way of advertising pregnancy without having sex?  Are you spreading Christianity (a la immaculate conception) or are you backing neo-feminists and their agenda to destroy the male gender and produce a solely female race?!

 

Man.  Crazy.

 

So yeah - 1408.  Pretty good movie.  You should see it. 

So I haven't blogged in a bit...

Busy busy busy.

 

So have you ever accidentally lied and gotten called out on it?  When you were called out did you try to correct yourself with a "what I MEANT to say was" in order to restore whatever karma you may have damaged?

 

Yeah?

 

Well fuck that.  I got caught last night and just RAN with it. 

 

Story: out with a few buddies last night I was talking about this girl.  I MEANT to say "I used to mess around with" but ACTUALLY ended up saying something totally different.  Like, I used to sleep with.  The difference was only one word - but we need not repeat the sentence.  It'll make me look like an ass.

 

In fairness I was really drunk. 

 

So he was all "No you didn't.  Otherwise you'd have told me earlier."

 

I quickly realized he was completely right.  I was cornered.  What was my next move?  I either come out and explain what I meant to say and clear the air  - all while allowing my friend a small moral victory and a moment of "Ahhhhhhh.... yeah, yeah.  Okay," smugness...

 

...or I lie.

 

"Fuck you, yes I did.  I didn't tell you because I haven't seen her forever."

 

"No you didn't."

 

"Fuck you.  Yes I did."

 

"Liar."

 

"Fuck you.  I'm not a liar."

 

Note: At this point I was lying my ass off.

 

I basically beat him in to submission with my lie.  Now the question: do I tell him the truth today?

 

Fuck it.

 

I wonder how long it'll take me to believe my own lie if I keep telling it to myself over and over and over and over.  I give it 5 more minutes.

 

 

That Most Unmentionable of Human Functions

** Editor's Note: If you have a problem with reading about poop do not continue! **

Why is it that at the moments you need the most privacy there is absolutely none to be found?

I was in class today and I had to POOP. I hate using public restrooms but I'd delayed this reprieve for the entire day and it was time to unload.

I was in a classroom in a relatively empty building (late evening course) and decided I'd go ALL the way downstairs to use one of the restrooms down there as this restroom is typically empty at this time of night.

So I go downstairs and it's a fucking PARTY! May as well have tapped a keg and passed ou the Jaeger Bombs because that floor was damned well PACKED!

Go fuckin' figure.

I still took that poop though. Best. Poop. Ever.

Are your eyes burning? Yeah, you shouldn't have read this. Sorry.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

Have you ever noticed

how Word Verification when you're signed in is longer than it is when you're not?

Seriously - when I'm signed in and want to leave a comment the verification word is always something like "asdafariquizablieajibblegoog".

When I'm NOT signed in it's "aerfja".

You'd think you'd trust me more as a signed in member, but you've elected to force MORE STRENUOUS security measures on me! Punishment!

I hate thee, Google. I hate thee yet I love thee.

And thy jibblegoogs.

This is why I hate dating in this town

So during break in one of my classes this sexy Rican starts talking to me - telling me about her major, her life, interests...

 

Definitely feeling me.

 

So after class I start walking her to her car and we continue our conversation.  Then the magic questions pops up.  "So... how old are you?"

 

"21," I say.  I wish I had lied.

 

Her entire body slumps - I call this a "countenance droop".

 

Well, the discussion continues and until a few minutes ago I'm convinced I can still get her number.  In fact, I STILL thinkI can but I won't.

 

Because you see...  I began telling my buddy about this girl and exactly what happened to me. 

 

As it turns out, she was just over at his house the other night.

 

Yes, my friend is ALREADY talking to this "random" girl that started talking to me in my class.

 

FUCK. 

Epiphany

So I was walking to the house today and tripped, fell right on my face.  I got up and grabbed my hurt face and thought to myself, "Man - this country puts too much emphasis on individuality."

 

I know, weird.  Most of us would think about how bad our face hurts.  I think about pressing societal issues.

 

But seriously - what is it with self-empowerment and our country's interest in the individual?  Have we really considered the dangers caused by people who care only about themselves?

 

We'll have no doctors, nurses, dentists ...  just plastic surgeons.  Entire ARMIES of plastic surgeons.  With their surgery guns and ninja outfits.

 

What a cruel world THAT will be.  The ninja outfits will probably be all tacky and shit. 

 

In other news I got wasted this weekend.  Really, really wasted.  Like - parts of my night are forgotten.  I don't generally allow myself to lapse in to the void of Blackout but this weekend was a "fuck-it" weekend if I've ever seen one.  And I have.  Since, you know, last weekend WAS one.

 

So I fucked it.  And it fucked right back.

 

Needless to say, Recovery Day sucked ass.  But I'm back at work.  Suffering.

 

The things I do to pay my mortgage.

 

So an update

I took half of yesterday off work so I could get some stuff caught up in a class whose first (and only) in-class meeting I'd missed. 

 

It turns out the class is actually a "working" class - as in I work in their computer lab for 6 hours a week providing PC tech support.  What?  SWEET.

 

In other news, I went to a nearby Italian restaurant by myself yesterday and as I walked in an attractive woman in her mid-twenties looked up at me and gave me a big smile.  I was seated in the booth in front of her and was going to begin conversation when she started talking on her phone - to another guy, obviously a dating prospect, about the guy she wasn't over yet. 

 

I was GOING to start a conversation until I listened to her discuss (over and over) how she still had feelings for the last guy...

 

...so when her phone call ended I just turned around, smiled and said "Back in the dating game, eh?"  She smiled back and said, "Yes, I'm afraid so.  Unfortunately."  I simply replied "Good luck," and turned back to my food.

 

Stranger still...  I noticed something about myself in the shower this morning.  APPARENTLY I've been the victim of a tragic foreskin accident.  I asked my parents about this and as it turns out this accident occured at birth.  Some zany doctor simply cut it off.

 

All I could think was, "Damn, if that doctor had been any more drunk I might have been a woman right now."

Entitlement

I hate that I have to post this again but this lady makes me piss angry.  (Never heard that term before?  Me neither.  I think I made it up - and it's awesome.)

 

Just so you know: 

• You are not entitled to anything from me.  I owe you exactly NIL.
• No one ELSE owes you anything either.  You're an average performer with a sub-average IQ.  You're nothing special.
• STOP ASKING ME QUESTIONS WHOSE ANSWERS YOU CAN DISCOVER ON YOUR OWN IN A MATTER OF MOMENTS!
• For fuck's sake, if an application we use has been down all morning and you want to know if it's up DON'T ASK ME!  I may be far superior to you in intelligence and may be much better at my job but I don't have a spidey-sense that tingles when (insert-broken-application-here) is back in service.

You're annoying me.