*****Note to reader*****
I know you are used to me writing notes about worthless information, opinions, dating, theories, musical taste... etc, but--- I have grown weary of such. So, I figured why not treat you all to a story.... and yes, I really am both arrogant and weird enough to do this with a 'blog'... take it for what it is if you do read along, hope you find everything as humorous as I
*****end note to reader*****
It isn't widely known, and probably even lesser believed, but it is as true as any fact the world has ever known. Its as much a sure thing as the Tooth Fairy's exchange rate on your teeth is somehow related to your families yearly income, or as certain that Santa really is sleeping with your mother, this thing... oh but silly Eye. I open here and speak(type really) such ridiculous banter, and not even hint at what the topic that I speak of is.
You see, each time a person in this world dies, a new one is born exactly 37 minutes after said death to replace him or her. Don't try and combat this factual fact with your silly old wives tales or news reports of population inflation or mass murdering-holocaustal acts! Just know that for you to even attempt to follow the following, you may have suspend your disbelief of this reality, and put on the shelf all of the grounding weight of the world you know so well (or so you think). In doing these listed requests, and understanding what I tell you, will you only then know what is going on here.
So like I said before, each time a person in this world dies, a new person in born exactly 37 minutes later.
There are a few more basic guidelines to reality... these are covered in many different historical texts. Scientists and scholars alike have devoted their entire careers to finding out why these things do indeed tend to happen, but we don't have the kind of time that they do. So, I ask once again that you just listen (or read as the case may be) and understand them. Don't get caught up in the 5 "W's" (who, what, when, where, why, [and of course] wazzzzup)... just go with them.
They are a little shocking... you may not know this... but
A) People are sometimes born with extraordinary gifts. It doesn't happen often, only when things in the universe get turned 'upside down' so to speak.
B) Death is not what you think it is. Some people die and ascend or descend to another plane, others stay here in a less... um, well....... corporeal form. It doesn't really mean they are a 'ghost'... well, its just something else entirely.
So, "C)" is much more elementary. Its something that you know, without really knowing. There is always an opposite. For everything. For every black, there is a white. For every deity as gracious as Jehova, there is someone equally as evil like the fallen angel Michael. So, there is always an 'antagonist' and a 'protagonist'...
Follow me so far? I thought so.
Lastly, Time is the 4th dimension. Anyone who has read Vonnegut or been a Michael J Fox fan is somewhat familiar with this concept sure... but I want to express it in a way that would lend its hand to deciphering what is to come. People get so caught up in time "passing" or "what is coming". This is because you are not seeing time, just going along with what you have always been told. Its a dimension. It is possible to see it.
The first dimension is a straight line, the second a figure depicted on a flat plane (ala TV, photograph) and the third is something that has the property or appearance of having bulk, volume, mass (like us, a tree, or an ant bed)... so, you can see all of these. Well, time is no different. If you can get past what you know, and actually see time for what it is... it is a line that has no beginning or end and an infinite amount of spots that mark each fragment of time. If you could just see the line, perhaps (and this is a bit of leap for you I am sure, but remember about the suspending reality thing) you could visit any point in time you wanted, whenever you wanted....
Ok, for those who i didn't lose right then, its finally time to begin this tale--- no more theories or rules (for now) I promise.
St Louis, Missouri
December 12, 1984
Work for Paul Noise had never been something he actually liked. To say he took the ancient Italian mantra of "worked to live" to heart would be moderately accurate, but he didn't really like to live either. Each and every day of the week consisted of the same things as the one previous. He woke at 8, got to work around 9, had lunch at noon, got home from work around 5. (this is still a few decades away from when 9-5 became 9-630) On the way home from work every day, he would stop by the local liquor store, and pick up a bottle of black label whiskey to drink himself to sleep with.
He lived with his current girlfriend (formerly his ex-girlfriend) in a small, 1 bedroom apartment on the wrong side of the tracks. She had broken up with him at one juncture, but through a strange twist of events ended back up with him.
The first two months of their rekindling was the last time Paul had felt any joy whatsoever. Now, he was miserable. She never wanted to go out and try or do fun and new things, but instead lead a life in front of the television. A life devoted to the goings on of Sgt Bosco Baracus or Captain Merrill Stubing, to accompany the same dishes made from the same worn out recipes her own mother had weened her on.
Paul went home that evening to find a new and exciting episode of M*A*S*H* on, and a tray in front of his chair with cooling salmon patties and straight-from-the-can green beans waiting on him. Paul sat down and opened his bottle of black label whiskey, and began to chug away.
He came to in a dark room, only the light of the static filled television in front of him was to be seen. His left hand still held onto the nearly empty bottle of liquor, so he promptly raised it to his lips and took another swig. He stumbled as he rose from his chair, knocking over the tv tray in the process. He reached to the ground, and picked up his not so full pack of Camel no filtered cigarettes and headed towards their patio to have a cigarette. The clock on the wall read 3:13 am.
Paul opened the door, and lit his square promptly. As he inhaled, he heard a rustling in the bushes below (2cnd floor apt, I forgot to mention--- sorry to get all Michael Crichton on you). He looked down and saw a man dressed in all black. The man looked up to him and said
"no more time to waste Paul"
before Paul could even ask how the hell this fellow knew his name, a shot rang out and Paul was struck directly between his eyes with a .45 caliber bullet. His body went lifeless, and his still lit cigarette fell to the ground.
3:40 am
December 12, 1984
Austin, Tx
"I'm sorry sir, but there has been a few complications" the Doctor told the man expecting to be a father in the waiting room.
"Was it a boy or a girl?" the man said, trying his best to hold back all of his tears...
"You are the father of a baby boy sir, and he is perfectly healthy; its your wife who didn't make it"
(to be continued)
Friday, December 12, 2008
Thursday, October 30, 2008
A Halloween Tale
It was a dark and stormy night,
on that black and rainy eve.
A night unlike any other,
its true so try and believe.
There was a house in the middle of town,
In a small place by the name Flowermound.
That was had in it two ladies,
-named Porche and Mercedes,
-and 2 other matey's,
-a priest and free saftey
and they all sat around a freshly lit fire worried about the weather outside.
They heard sounds all around the house,
mostly from a room upstairs.
The ladies began to freak out!
their fear was under prepared
For up in the room, behind the closed door
was an old lady, who once was a whore.
She was infected and nasty,
a scarleted lassie,
made heads spin like Jazzy,
did not practice faire-laissez
and the people in the room below her, would all soon know this all to well.
They heard a lock slip and a creak!
They all turned their heads to the door
from inside the dark and cold room,
came out a shout from the whore.
She called the free saftey,
beckoned "come rape me"
he looked at Mercedes
then left the room hasty
and made his way up the stairs to the room, and closed the behind him.
They heard screams and moans and noises.
Then a gigantic loud "thud"!
The door then opened once again
Whore called for other stud.
The defensive back, was not good enough
I need the priest to come and show me rough
He rose for his meeting
that would turn to a beating
even though his faith he was cheating
he could no longer stay seating
for the power of suggestion from the voice of this hussy was too strong to turn down.
Porshe looked at her friend Mercedes,
she took a deep breath and said
"Why in the world do they go there,
upstairs to that ladies bed?"
Mercedes leaned in, touched her friend on the arm
Her voice was soothing and oozing with charm.
"This is my life girl,
welcome to my world.
whenever men who are fertile,
come over they hurdle,
up the stairs to fuck her. This is what happens when your mom is a whore.
on that black and rainy eve.
A night unlike any other,
its true so try and believe.
There was a house in the middle of town,
In a small place by the name Flowermound.
That was had in it two ladies,
-named Porche and Mercedes,
-and 2 other matey's,
-a priest and free saftey
and they all sat around a freshly lit fire worried about the weather outside.
They heard sounds all around the house,
mostly from a room upstairs.
The ladies began to freak out!
their fear was under prepared
For up in the room, behind the closed door
was an old lady, who once was a whore.
She was infected and nasty,
a scarleted lassie,
made heads spin like Jazzy,
did not practice faire-laissez
and the people in the room below her, would all soon know this all to well.
They heard a lock slip and a creak!
They all turned their heads to the door
from inside the dark and cold room,
came out a shout from the whore.
She called the free saftey,
beckoned "come rape me"
he looked at Mercedes
then left the room hasty
and made his way up the stairs to the room, and closed the behind him.
They heard screams and moans and noises.
Then a gigantic loud "thud"!
The door then opened once again
Whore called for other stud.
The defensive back, was not good enough
I need the priest to come and show me rough
He rose for his meeting
that would turn to a beating
even though his faith he was cheating
he could no longer stay seating
for the power of suggestion from the voice of this hussy was too strong to turn down.
Porshe looked at her friend Mercedes,
she took a deep breath and said
"Why in the world do they go there,
upstairs to that ladies bed?"
Mercedes leaned in, touched her friend on the arm
Her voice was soothing and oozing with charm.
"This is my life girl,
welcome to my world.
whenever men who are fertile,
come over they hurdle,
up the stairs to fuck her. This is what happens when your mom is a whore.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Top 7 Horror Movies
Tis the season mothafuckas!
I love love love, this time of year. You see, I am a fan of scary movies as it is... yet, a lot of people aren't... most of those people= girls I am trying to do my thang with. For some reason, females feel like they need a holiday to celebrate with being scared, and a week from today is that very one.
But, our good friends at Wal-Mart, Target, Best Buy, and Hollywood Video all ensure that this whole month be the month of screams, especially the last week of it! So, if you cruise into any of the previously mentioned establishments right now, you would see a special on all things horror--including dvds.
Think about this for a second...
call some boo, buy some booze, watch a movie that jumps out and go's "Boo!", and maybe just maybe, you will get a boo in the lap or boo in the bed... Scuurrrryyyy sheets son!
We will call this, my Boo's, Booze's and Boos! philosophy
but, we need some solid film, to help deliver the first part of that trilogy to ya... so here goes my top 7 movies in the horror genre... enjoy!
1) Scream (1996) Wes Craven (4 stars out of 4)
Egad!!!! How could this be on the top of any list, and you listen to me and consider my views valid? Its simple really. This movie, before Scary Movie took it a step further, was meant to be a complete farse or sendup of the horror genre. It not only tells you whats going to happen in the movie as it goes (clever jargon), it also manages to deliver several solid jumps and a great whodunit mystery, that no one in the world got the first time they saw it.
The movie is shot well. ( It looks fantastic actually) and is severely entertaining. You are captivated from start to finish... and leave it with a smile on your face. this movie single handedly rejuvenated a very tired genre, and in doing so did it better than anyone had done before or after.
2) High Tension (2003) Alexandre Aja (3.0 stars out of 4)
If you have not seen this movie, and you like to be scared... good god. Rent it tonight. Its a french film, so you will have to spend some time with the subtitles on, but even with that... it doesn't really get scarier than this movie. The entire scene where the pro and antagonists are in the house, is about as tense as you can get. I would consider this as part of the whole "shock" horror genre. Its gross and painful to watch at times, but not nearly as much as one of the endless "Saw" sequels or "Hostel"
3) Alien (1979) Ridley Scott (3.5 stars out of 4)
Scott delivers a creepy, slow, masterpiece with his attempt in the genre. This movie is very slow, and I wouldn't even suggest it to you if you were adhd or with people that talk a lot. Its best served up when you are with someone else who can chill and you can as well. If that is possible, this movie will slowly suck you in to where the last part of the movie keeps you riveted. If you think that the chest-burster is the scariest part of this film, I would suggest actually watching it and not just what you remember about your parents not wanting you to see as a child. The special effects are weak now.. no doubt on that... but, this movie is still top drawer.
4) Event Horizon (1997) Paul W.S. Anderson (2.5 stars out of 4)
I think this may be freaky to me, because I remember seeing it when I was 15 or 16. It may actually be that good though. We will find out more this week, when I go back and rewatch this one. This film deals with another dimension, and people hallucinating their worst fears as well as other terrifying images. The best part about this movie, is that its fear is delivered from pacing and atmosphere. Its not the gore, or the jumps or loud elevations in music. this is a definite must if you enjoyed "Alien", and I suggest it to all horror fans who have not seen it.
5) A Nightmare On Elm Street (1984) Wes Craven (2.5 stars out of 4)
This is the best idea, ever, for a horror movie. The premises of this film, is nothing short of pure brilliance. You can't hide from sleep, you can't run from your dreams. This is where the killer in this film hides and hunts you down. As with most horror movies, a soon to be famous actor gets introduced in this (Johnny Depp); and if it wasn't for New Line stripping creative control and licensing away from Craven, this series might actually have been entertaining. Instead, you have 2 great movies, and average one, and 4 hours of shit spanning 7 films. When you watch this, don't expect the wise-cracking mtv freddy krueger donning a pair of way-fares. Its scary, pretty gory, and just over all very impressive, especially for the budget it was filmed on. This film saved new line cinema.
6) Halloween (1978) John Carpenter (3 stars out of 4)
I think this may actually be one of the scariest movies ever made. I don't put it up higher in my list, probably just because I have seen it so many times. Tension is thick throughout most of this movie once it gets rolling, but for being a slasher it starts out really slow. The music is nothing short of cheese dick through most of it; and the acting is awful. It is the epitome of a slasher movie. I remember seeing this for the first time, on Halloween actually. It was a monday night, and my parents were watching MNF in the living room. In the back bedroom though, there was a petrified 9 year old, developing his love for shock-cinema. this movie isn't as bloody as people remember, it just takes a while to get going.
7) Scream 2 (1997) Wes Craven (3 stars out of 4)
Don't shoot me. this makes the list because of it having two of the most tense scenes in horror movie history in it. Actually, Scream 2 is just as good and clever as the first one, until its ending. The scenes to watch though--
a) when Gale Weathers and Dewey are being chased through the school. When Gale finds her way into the production room , just narrowly missing the Ghost Faced Killa again and again... all the way up to the sound proof booth... BRILLIANCE
b) favorite moment in scary movie history actually, is this next one.... when the Ghost Faced killa crashes the police car that Syd and her roomie are in... and they have to crawl over him... wow... even though I know what is going to happen, that scene still creates great tension for me. 2 thumbs up craven..
Alright, pick which one of those sounds the best and get to watching wit some shorty worth hollerin at. Ill be back soon folks... happy frights
I love love love, this time of year. You see, I am a fan of scary movies as it is... yet, a lot of people aren't... most of those people= girls I am trying to do my thang with. For some reason, females feel like they need a holiday to celebrate with being scared, and a week from today is that very one.
But, our good friends at Wal-Mart, Target, Best Buy, and Hollywood Video all ensure that this whole month be the month of screams, especially the last week of it! So, if you cruise into any of the previously mentioned establishments right now, you would see a special on all things horror--including dvds.
Think about this for a second...
call some boo, buy some booze, watch a movie that jumps out and go's "Boo!", and maybe just maybe, you will get a boo in the lap or boo in the bed... Scuurrrryyyy sheets son!
We will call this, my Boo's, Booze's and Boos! philosophy
but, we need some solid film, to help deliver the first part of that trilogy to ya... so here goes my top 7 movies in the horror genre... enjoy!
1) Scream (1996) Wes Craven (4 stars out of 4)
Egad!!!! How could this be on the top of any list, and you listen to me and consider my views valid? Its simple really. This movie, before Scary Movie took it a step further, was meant to be a complete farse or sendup of the horror genre. It not only tells you whats going to happen in the movie as it goes (clever jargon), it also manages to deliver several solid jumps and a great whodunit mystery, that no one in the world got the first time they saw it.
The movie is shot well. ( It looks fantastic actually) and is severely entertaining. You are captivated from start to finish... and leave it with a smile on your face. this movie single handedly rejuvenated a very tired genre, and in doing so did it better than anyone had done before or after.
2) High Tension (2003) Alexandre Aja (3.0 stars out of 4)
If you have not seen this movie, and you like to be scared... good god. Rent it tonight. Its a french film, so you will have to spend some time with the subtitles on, but even with that... it doesn't really get scarier than this movie. The entire scene where the pro and antagonists are in the house, is about as tense as you can get. I would consider this as part of the whole "shock" horror genre. Its gross and painful to watch at times, but not nearly as much as one of the endless "Saw" sequels or "Hostel"
3) Alien (1979) Ridley Scott (3.5 stars out of 4)
Scott delivers a creepy, slow, masterpiece with his attempt in the genre. This movie is very slow, and I wouldn't even suggest it to you if you were adhd or with people that talk a lot. Its best served up when you are with someone else who can chill and you can as well. If that is possible, this movie will slowly suck you in to where the last part of the movie keeps you riveted. If you think that the chest-burster is the scariest part of this film, I would suggest actually watching it and not just what you remember about your parents not wanting you to see as a child. The special effects are weak now.. no doubt on that... but, this movie is still top drawer.
4) Event Horizon (1997) Paul W.S. Anderson (2.5 stars out of 4)
I think this may be freaky to me, because I remember seeing it when I was 15 or 16. It may actually be that good though. We will find out more this week, when I go back and rewatch this one. This film deals with another dimension, and people hallucinating their worst fears as well as other terrifying images. The best part about this movie, is that its fear is delivered from pacing and atmosphere. Its not the gore, or the jumps or loud elevations in music. this is a definite must if you enjoyed "Alien", and I suggest it to all horror fans who have not seen it.
5) A Nightmare On Elm Street (1984) Wes Craven (2.5 stars out of 4)
This is the best idea, ever, for a horror movie. The premises of this film, is nothing short of pure brilliance. You can't hide from sleep, you can't run from your dreams. This is where the killer in this film hides and hunts you down. As with most horror movies, a soon to be famous actor gets introduced in this (Johnny Depp); and if it wasn't for New Line stripping creative control and licensing away from Craven, this series might actually have been entertaining. Instead, you have 2 great movies, and average one, and 4 hours of shit spanning 7 films. When you watch this, don't expect the wise-cracking mtv freddy krueger donning a pair of way-fares. Its scary, pretty gory, and just over all very impressive, especially for the budget it was filmed on. This film saved new line cinema.
6) Halloween (1978) John Carpenter (3 stars out of 4)
I think this may actually be one of the scariest movies ever made. I don't put it up higher in my list, probably just because I have seen it so many times. Tension is thick throughout most of this movie once it gets rolling, but for being a slasher it starts out really slow. The music is nothing short of cheese dick through most of it; and the acting is awful. It is the epitome of a slasher movie. I remember seeing this for the first time, on Halloween actually. It was a monday night, and my parents were watching MNF in the living room. In the back bedroom though, there was a petrified 9 year old, developing his love for shock-cinema. this movie isn't as bloody as people remember, it just takes a while to get going.
7) Scream 2 (1997) Wes Craven (3 stars out of 4)
Don't shoot me. this makes the list because of it having two of the most tense scenes in horror movie history in it. Actually, Scream 2 is just as good and clever as the first one, until its ending. The scenes to watch though--
a) when Gale Weathers and Dewey are being chased through the school. When Gale finds her way into the production room , just narrowly missing the Ghost Faced Killa again and again... all the way up to the sound proof booth... BRILLIANCE
b) favorite moment in scary movie history actually, is this next one.... when the Ghost Faced killa crashes the police car that Syd and her roomie are in... and they have to crawl over him... wow... even though I know what is going to happen, that scene still creates great tension for me. 2 thumbs up craven..
Alright, pick which one of those sounds the best and get to watching wit some shorty worth hollerin at. Ill be back soon folks... happy frights
Monday, October 20, 2008
Late Night Bar Hookup
When you wake up in the morning, after a long night out pounding Jagerbombs and Diet & Vodka (everyone is being health conscious let us not forget), and you start to feel the effects of your sat & sun morning hangover kick in... where would you rather be
a) home. alone. the sheets your forgot to wash, again, all swaddled around you and a stack of bills sitting on your desk. your fridge is likely very empty, which means that you will have to put on some kind of old rags (i.e. basketball shorts, crush shirt from 4 years ago) to go out and hit up some terrible fast food place so you can come home and watch some football.
b) a random girls house. with her. the sheets she forgot to wash, again, all swaddled around both of you and a stack of empty condom wrappers sitting on her desk across the room. Your sweet threads from last night are kinda all over the place...
shirt-balled up on floor
pants-balled up on floor
boxers- somehow lost in her top sheet
and you have to put these on; even in their once worn, now wrinkled condition which will obviously tip its hand to you, taking the 'walk of shame'... and since she lives in a place far from you, you will pass by a lot of different terrible fast food on the way home that you can make your choice from, so you can then go home and watch some football.
Ok, lets be real.
You picked "b" didn't you?
Its fine, we all know you did. Most everyone would, for that matter. Its not really that it is depressing to be smashed out of your mind, and alone; because honestly, once you try to pass out, success is a sure thing. The problem is though, once your mind gets that buzz, and you get that first smell of the pheromones, it tends to become as important to you as that Ninja Turtle for Christmas when you were 8. Its all you want... so much to the point where you will text every person in your phone with a female name (sorry for all the late night texts Ashley-my guy friend) just so you can have someone, nay ANYONE to make out with.
The question I am sure that everyone wants to know the answer to though is, "how do I get to 'b' and away from 'a'?
Well, a lot of that has to deal with how you look that night, and how well you know or don't know the object of your pursuit...
but
most of it comes from the things you say. Some ways to not go home with her, would come from saying things like these greatest hits...
"Have you tried 'lite' beer before?"
"I would love to put my face in the middle of those"
"My dick is like a slim jim, it can get into anything"
"Do you spit, or swallow?"
"What did you say your name was?"
"You want to get a taquito and watch 'The Crying Game'?"
"...and for some reason it burns when i pee.....(trails off)....so do you wanna go back to my place or yours?"
"My face is leaving in 10 minutes, be on it"
Now, unfortunately, we all have a humorous hook up story or 5... but today, i will close with sharing one of mine.
We had been at a bar, i didn't say any of the above statements, and we went back to her place. We made out for a while, on the couch, then went outside for a quick cig. She asked if i wanted another beer, so you know i was like 'hell yeah'... I was suffering through her conversation, about who knows what, when she got a text message on her phone. She looked at me and goes
"my ex boyfriend just texted... that means he will prolly be here in like an hour or so... you wanna go ahead fuck so you can get outta here before he gets here?"
Oh snap! What did I do? Well, thats a choose your own adventure scenario if I have ever heard it, so I am gonna leave it there, just like that.
a) home. alone. the sheets your forgot to wash, again, all swaddled around you and a stack of bills sitting on your desk. your fridge is likely very empty, which means that you will have to put on some kind of old rags (i.e. basketball shorts, crush shirt from 4 years ago) to go out and hit up some terrible fast food place so you can come home and watch some football.
b) a random girls house. with her. the sheets she forgot to wash, again, all swaddled around both of you and a stack of empty condom wrappers sitting on her desk across the room. Your sweet threads from last night are kinda all over the place...
shirt-balled up on floor
pants-balled up on floor
boxers- somehow lost in her top sheet
and you have to put these on; even in their once worn, now wrinkled condition which will obviously tip its hand to you, taking the 'walk of shame'... and since she lives in a place far from you, you will pass by a lot of different terrible fast food on the way home that you can make your choice from, so you can then go home and watch some football.
Ok, lets be real.
You picked "b" didn't you?
Its fine, we all know you did. Most everyone would, for that matter. Its not really that it is depressing to be smashed out of your mind, and alone; because honestly, once you try to pass out, success is a sure thing. The problem is though, once your mind gets that buzz, and you get that first smell of the pheromones, it tends to become as important to you as that Ninja Turtle for Christmas when you were 8. Its all you want... so much to the point where you will text every person in your phone with a female name (sorry for all the late night texts Ashley-my guy friend) just so you can have someone, nay ANYONE to make out with.
The question I am sure that everyone wants to know the answer to though is, "how do I get to 'b' and away from 'a'?
Well, a lot of that has to deal with how you look that night, and how well you know or don't know the object of your pursuit...
but
most of it comes from the things you say. Some ways to not go home with her, would come from saying things like these greatest hits...
"Have you tried 'lite' beer before?"
"I would love to put my face in the middle of those"
"My dick is like a slim jim, it can get into anything"
"Do you spit, or swallow?"
"What did you say your name was?"
"You want to get a taquito and watch 'The Crying Game'?"
"...and for some reason it burns when i pee.....(trails off)....so do you wanna go back to my place or yours?"
"My face is leaving in 10 minutes, be on it"
Now, unfortunately, we all have a humorous hook up story or 5... but today, i will close with sharing one of mine.
We had been at a bar, i didn't say any of the above statements, and we went back to her place. We made out for a while, on the couch, then went outside for a quick cig. She asked if i wanted another beer, so you know i was like 'hell yeah'... I was suffering through her conversation, about who knows what, when she got a text message on her phone. She looked at me and goes
"my ex boyfriend just texted... that means he will prolly be here in like an hour or so... you wanna go ahead fuck so you can get outta here before he gets here?"
Oh snap! What did I do? Well, thats a choose your own adventure scenario if I have ever heard it, so I am gonna leave it there, just like that.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Updated?!??!
Eh, why not. I am having an enormous amount of trouble falling asleep this evening, and this is the third time I have seen these olympic events-- so I mean, what else am I gonna do, other than write?
Breakups are really strange things. I had pretty much had set in my mind that I would not have to ever see "Ex Girlfriend" again (save Baylor Homecomings). She moved to Dallas and such, so I mean... I thought I was safe. I have developed a great distaste for her in the past couple of months, and this is mainly due to the fact of me actually realizing what I was like when I was in that relationship.
Anyway, I am at the tavern that I work at on tuesdays and frequent on top of that, and lo and behold who would be there.... I was standing inches from her without even realizing it was her, and looked down and felt grime get all over me. My stomach went into about a half a dozen knots, and my desire to remain sober that evening left me behind like a gold medal and Shawn Johnson.
I, for some reason, thought she would roll out of their quickly, so I just went and hung out at various places with the people that I know that kick it there. Yet, every so often, I would be strolling and see her. For the first time since I have lived in Austin, being at Shakespeares sounded like the worst idea I had ever heard.
This evening I went scrolling through my old gchats and 'wall to walls' on my facebook account. Of course, this does require me stumbling across more x banter. I bypassed everything that "ex girlfriend" and I exchanged, because there is not a part of me at this time that would find any of the sentiments that would bring out, anything less than wretched.
I did find quite interesting my chats with "Boo". It was almost comical to be able to "see" by reading said conversations the complete dismantling of my personality. In analyzing, the biggest problem I had in that relationship, was that it, by nature and circumstance, was always teetering on chaos-- so I became less and less confident in the only thing I really had ever had confidence in, myself.
We started dating, both knowing that she would be moving to Costa Rica for a year. She came back in 6 weeks. We started right back up, planning on moving to Mexico together. Less than a week later, we ended it. Within a week, we had hung out again and slept together and such... started kind of talking again, then went on a little short communication blackout. When those few days ended, she had signed a contract to move to Mexico alone. We had another week, then ended it again. The day she left, we had lunch then she came to see me... we kinda had that moment...
See... she came back. Right then. Looking back on it, she was probably just scared. I thought at that time it was God speaking to me... telling me not to give up. So guess what, I didn't.
I moved to Austin within like two weeks of that. I started a crazy job, didn't try to make new friends, and didn't really try to meet new people, because my mind was in another country. It stayed that way too. She was set to come back that Christmas... I had until then... right?
Check that... somewhere in the middle of October, she decides she wants to come back. Then, she decides to take a job elsewhere in Mexico. Then, she decides that she wants to go back to her old job, and in a little under a month, she is back in the states.
We see each other, and it sucks. Its over... its obvious. Or is it?
We talk periodically from then until January, while she starts dating the boy she was dating before me.. then one day like a flash, she ends it with him. About two weeks later, we hang out, make out, hook up, and are back on.
I go to Dallas, She comes to Austin... I am terrified this time though. I just have zero faith in her or this. I spend the next month dating her and walking on broken glass. Its going to end at any moment, being my internal mantra.
It ends, again, quickly. She is dating a new boy before the sheets have even been washed. Ain't that a bitch.
So, finally back to the point... reading that progression was absolutely fascinating. I am apathetic enough towards her now, that it really kinda makes me upset that I wasted such an amount of time waiting to start my life here. Once I finally decided to do that in mid spring, its like things have really taken off and gotten fun. I kinda look at the passing of this 26th year though, and think "damn. I wasted so much of this on something that ended up not mattering at all"
So, breakups are funny things. Its insane to think about the ones I have been though---especially when I can't even fathom being in a relationship at this point in my life.
When I was runnin through my wall-to-wall conversations, I found something I had written on my friend Stampers wall, back on July 9, 2005. (this would have been during my full-tilt single mode in undergrad) I wrote
"Never commit to or break up with anyone...this way it can never end badly because really it never began or ended"
Funny how cyclical life is.
Breakups are really strange things. I had pretty much had set in my mind that I would not have to ever see "Ex Girlfriend" again (save Baylor Homecomings). She moved to Dallas and such, so I mean... I thought I was safe. I have developed a great distaste for her in the past couple of months, and this is mainly due to the fact of me actually realizing what I was like when I was in that relationship.
Anyway, I am at the tavern that I work at on tuesdays and frequent on top of that, and lo and behold who would be there.... I was standing inches from her without even realizing it was her, and looked down and felt grime get all over me. My stomach went into about a half a dozen knots, and my desire to remain sober that evening left me behind like a gold medal and Shawn Johnson.
I, for some reason, thought she would roll out of their quickly, so I just went and hung out at various places with the people that I know that kick it there. Yet, every so often, I would be strolling and see her. For the first time since I have lived in Austin, being at Shakespeares sounded like the worst idea I had ever heard.
This evening I went scrolling through my old gchats and 'wall to walls' on my facebook account. Of course, this does require me stumbling across more x banter. I bypassed everything that "ex girlfriend" and I exchanged, because there is not a part of me at this time that would find any of the sentiments that would bring out, anything less than wretched.
I did find quite interesting my chats with "Boo". It was almost comical to be able to "see" by reading said conversations the complete dismantling of my personality. In analyzing, the biggest problem I had in that relationship, was that it, by nature and circumstance, was always teetering on chaos-- so I became less and less confident in the only thing I really had ever had confidence in, myself.
We started dating, both knowing that she would be moving to Costa Rica for a year. She came back in 6 weeks. We started right back up, planning on moving to Mexico together. Less than a week later, we ended it. Within a week, we had hung out again and slept together and such... started kind of talking again, then went on a little short communication blackout. When those few days ended, she had signed a contract to move to Mexico alone. We had another week, then ended it again. The day she left, we had lunch then she came to see me... we kinda had that moment...
See... she came back. Right then. Looking back on it, she was probably just scared. I thought at that time it was God speaking to me... telling me not to give up. So guess what, I didn't.
I moved to Austin within like two weeks of that. I started a crazy job, didn't try to make new friends, and didn't really try to meet new people, because my mind was in another country. It stayed that way too. She was set to come back that Christmas... I had until then... right?
Check that... somewhere in the middle of October, she decides she wants to come back. Then, she decides to take a job elsewhere in Mexico. Then, she decides that she wants to go back to her old job, and in a little under a month, she is back in the states.
We see each other, and it sucks. Its over... its obvious. Or is it?
We talk periodically from then until January, while she starts dating the boy she was dating before me.. then one day like a flash, she ends it with him. About two weeks later, we hang out, make out, hook up, and are back on.
I go to Dallas, She comes to Austin... I am terrified this time though. I just have zero faith in her or this. I spend the next month dating her and walking on broken glass. Its going to end at any moment, being my internal mantra.
It ends, again, quickly. She is dating a new boy before the sheets have even been washed. Ain't that a bitch.
So, finally back to the point... reading that progression was absolutely fascinating. I am apathetic enough towards her now, that it really kinda makes me upset that I wasted such an amount of time waiting to start my life here. Once I finally decided to do that in mid spring, its like things have really taken off and gotten fun. I kinda look at the passing of this 26th year though, and think "damn. I wasted so much of this on something that ended up not mattering at all"
So, breakups are funny things. Its insane to think about the ones I have been though---especially when I can't even fathom being in a relationship at this point in my life.
When I was runnin through my wall-to-wall conversations, I found something I had written on my friend Stampers wall, back on July 9, 2005. (this would have been during my full-tilt single mode in undergrad) I wrote
"Never commit to or break up with anyone...this way it can never end badly because really it never began or ended"
Funny how cyclical life is.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
List of Recent Thoughts
~ I went to Skinny's last night. I was really craving a fountain soda, so I ran in the store real quick when I discovered something I had yet to see. I know this has probably been around for a while, but I had yet to see it (been a while since a fountain drink I guess)... but they have these flavor blasters now. These------buttons you push to amp whatever drink you are getting with vanilla, cherry, or other stuff. I am in love man. The cherry coke I had was out of this world. Well done sir.
~ So, you all remember the hooters girl who beat me so badly during the playoffs right? Well, we are now facebook friends. I think that is a solid step somewhere. She is cute guys, I am not lying. I think I am going to have to approach this like you would a stray cat though... really patient, really slow, really---this will be the topic of more things to come. I guess I should hide my blog link from her on my profile, just in case she gets snoop-stalk one day
~ I saw one of my ex girlfriends dad at a gas station the other day. This is the second time this has happened since I have lived in Austin. I didn't run and hide from him, but I don't think he saw me either. thats a really strange feeling. I guess it always will be when you get all close to a family, then break it off-- then its like they never existed or you never existed for them. Maybe I am done meeting parents. Yeah, I think I am.
~ I want to punch myself in the face everytime I find myself singing this Jesse McCartney song.. but I can't help myself.
~ I saw 2 more of my friends get married the other day. 2 friends from college, who met in college. I always thought that was the 'right' path to take, because its what my parents did, and my grandparents did (all at Baylor I should point out). Oh wellz, I guess post college is the new college and 26 is the new 18.
~ The rabbit hooked up with the cougar. Lots of carrot juice had been consumed though and the rabbit doesn't remember much.
~ I do think this new Batman movie is going to be amazing, but I worry that it will be over-hyped to the point of Mandy Moore's singing career because of Ledger dying. I don't doubt for a second that he isn't just incredible in it, but I promise you this will be heralded as 'the greatest performance blah blah blah' and I don't care how good it or he is- its still a comic book movie. A SEQUEL at that. That doesn't deserve oscars, but you can put his name down for it now.
~Quitting smoking sucks, but my breath feels like its fresher.
~ I'll deliver you bitches some cohesion soon
~ So, you all remember the hooters girl who beat me so badly during the playoffs right? Well, we are now facebook friends. I think that is a solid step somewhere. She is cute guys, I am not lying. I think I am going to have to approach this like you would a stray cat though... really patient, really slow, really---this will be the topic of more things to come. I guess I should hide my blog link from her on my profile, just in case she gets snoop-stalk one day
~ I saw one of my ex girlfriends dad at a gas station the other day. This is the second time this has happened since I have lived in Austin. I didn't run and hide from him, but I don't think he saw me either. thats a really strange feeling. I guess it always will be when you get all close to a family, then break it off-- then its like they never existed or you never existed for them. Maybe I am done meeting parents. Yeah, I think I am.
~ I want to punch myself in the face everytime I find myself singing this Jesse McCartney song.. but I can't help myself.
~ I saw 2 more of my friends get married the other day. 2 friends from college, who met in college. I always thought that was the 'right' path to take, because its what my parents did, and my grandparents did (all at Baylor I should point out). Oh wellz, I guess post college is the new college and 26 is the new 18.
~ The rabbit hooked up with the cougar. Lots of carrot juice had been consumed though and the rabbit doesn't remember much.
~ I do think this new Batman movie is going to be amazing, but I worry that it will be over-hyped to the point of Mandy Moore's singing career because of Ledger dying. I don't doubt for a second that he isn't just incredible in it, but I promise you this will be heralded as 'the greatest performance blah blah blah' and I don't care how good it or he is- its still a comic book movie. A SEQUEL at that. That doesn't deserve oscars, but you can put his name down for it now.
~Quitting smoking sucks, but my breath feels like its fresher.
~ I'll deliver you bitches some cohesion soon
Monday, July 7, 2008
Apologies
Its been a while since I have written, and for this my deepest apologies- I know that your life probably hinges on what I am venting about; and lately there just hasn't been a lot to say...
It seems that I write better when things are going terrible in my heart, and it just hasn't been going like that a lot lately. I think this may because of this incredible sense of apathy that has begun to take me over. When Kali was initially breaking up with me, she told me (one of those things you will never forget) "It sucks huh? Maybe you will quit putting your heart into things so it doesn't"
Hmmmmm.... true-che bitch. I like your style. I will try and force this out though, try and make something out of words that will be of some sort of entertainment value to someone, promises.
I am tired of homeless people asking me for money. "Got any change" they say to me-- just like the person before me and the person after me. You can't even hear sincerity in their voice anymore. They might as well be Ashlee Simpson singing 'Pieces of Me'. I do have an idea though-- I am gonna start handing out generic deodorant to these people. I mean Christ. I just saw you make 10 dollars in the last 5 minutes. You are obviously not putting down payments on a mortgage or rent, walk over to the Scruffys gift shop and buy some FUCKIN ANTIPERS!
There is this one homeless guy who haunts the Trinity block of 6th nightly. He is white with these crazy dreads, and he really kinda resembles Josh Blue from 'Last Comic Standing'. Well, whenever he asks me for scrill, I tell him no, then he stalks me.
Seriously.
He follows me around looking at me like I just told him the secret to his favorite magic trick, and he is in shock. I almost fought him the other night. I was so pissed that he would not just LEAVE or leave me alone... I yelled at him to no avail... no change of facial expression, nothing. He just kept staring at me. STARING. "I'm sorry bitch! There are two people in the box! No one gets cut in half!!! Shit! Go to 4th! I would obviously be over there if I had more money! See where it says 'dolllllllar drinks>?!??!?!' I'm not here for the view!"
K---
Ill be back tomorrow, maybe today if some real shit happens
C
It seems that I write better when things are going terrible in my heart, and it just hasn't been going like that a lot lately. I think this may because of this incredible sense of apathy that has begun to take me over. When Kali was initially breaking up with me, she told me (one of those things you will never forget) "It sucks huh? Maybe you will quit putting your heart into things so it doesn't"
Hmmmmm.... true-che bitch. I like your style. I will try and force this out though, try and make something out of words that will be of some sort of entertainment value to someone, promises.
I am tired of homeless people asking me for money. "Got any change" they say to me-- just like the person before me and the person after me. You can't even hear sincerity in their voice anymore. They might as well be Ashlee Simpson singing 'Pieces of Me'. I do have an idea though-- I am gonna start handing out generic deodorant to these people. I mean Christ. I just saw you make 10 dollars in the last 5 minutes. You are obviously not putting down payments on a mortgage or rent, walk over to the Scruffys gift shop and buy some FUCKIN ANTIPERS!
There is this one homeless guy who haunts the Trinity block of 6th nightly. He is white with these crazy dreads, and he really kinda resembles Josh Blue from 'Last Comic Standing'. Well, whenever he asks me for scrill, I tell him no, then he stalks me.
Seriously.
He follows me around looking at me like I just told him the secret to his favorite magic trick, and he is in shock. I almost fought him the other night. I was so pissed that he would not just LEAVE or leave me alone... I yelled at him to no avail... no change of facial expression, nothing. He just kept staring at me. STARING. "I'm sorry bitch! There are two people in the box! No one gets cut in half!!! Shit! Go to 4th! I would obviously be over there if I had more money! See where it says 'dolllllllar drinks>?!??!?!' I'm not here for the view!"
K---
Ill be back tomorrow, maybe today if some real shit happens
C
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Peter the Rabbit (2008 take)
Once upon a time, actually earlier this year
there lived a small white rabbit, with a cute nose and ears.
He was hopping from field to field, hanging out with his friends
he loved the single rabbit life, wanted it never to end!
He loved chasing tail (cotton i mean)
and with each carrot ate, he picked up more steam!
One hot summer day, he was hopping 'cross the trail
but a strange sight, made him slow his pace like a snail!
Coming up to him, like a bullet from a Lueger
was a dark and seductive, female cougar.
Her voice was raspy, as she started to speak
and strongly of pheromones, did her fur reak.
"Hello little Rabbit, how do you do?"
Peter managed to come out with "Fine how are you?"
You could tell he was nervous! His paws were all sweaty!
His heart started to race and his breathing got heavy!
She circled around him, and stared at her prey,
opened her mouth and then did she say
"Call me a joint, cause i'll let you toke
i can show you things you have never heard spoke.
i'll show you the ways that all of this can work-
then i'll rip out your heart and eat it as dessert."
Peter's eyes got wide, and his mouth got dry.
He didn't know whether to stay, or go run and hide.
She looked right at him, and he felt her eyes stab
So he bolted quickly, like Lindsay Lohan from rehab!
He rushed through the thicket, heart racing so fast
Got to a meadow, and stopped to rest on the grass.
Not too long passed, and he heard a rustling sound...
he perked up his ears and took a look around-
From behind a tree, came slinking out slowly
a strange looking creature, who seemed sad and lonely.
Peter hopped forward, for he was a good little rabbit
and helping others out, had become quite the habit.
As he got closer, the better he could peer
at the strange looking creature, which resembled a deer..
"Are you lost deer?" Peter asked nicely
"Why yes can you help me?" the deer inquired politely.
"Do you need food? Are you alone?"
"I'm just scared, and need to be followed home"
Peter didn't hesitate, in his response at all,
He tried to console the deer by touching its----paw?
"My Miss Deer, your hooves have claws and are black!"
"I can not help it, Jesus made me like that"
Peter walked ahead of her, now cautious slightly
then his bunny ears heard her say lightly...
"Call me a joint, cause i'll let you toke
i can show you things you have never heard spoke.
i'll show you the ways that all of this can work-
then i'll rip out your heart and eat it as dessert."
Peter turned around, (not like Ace of Base said)
"You aren't a deer! You're the Cougar instead!"
The Coug shed her costume, in one single motion
and Peter took off, making all sorts of commotion
from behind him, he heard the cat say
"I'll get you my pretty, by the end of the day!"
Peter hopped far and fast, covered all sorts of ground;
got to a place with all sorts of people around.
He came up to a bar, and saw his friend Bruce-
then quickly noticed, they had 2 dollar (Well) carrot juice.
"I've got a story for you", Peter said while he ordered a glass-
then the two rabbits, proceded to get smashed.
Closing time came, and Peter stumbled out-
the Cougar's threat, he had forgotten all about...
and as he stumbled and hopped through the street
he heard in the distance, a voice sounding sweet.
He perked up his ears, he had heard this before
but this was the first time, he had wanted to hear more-
"Call me a joint, cause i'll let you toke
i can show you things you have never heard spoke.
i'll show you the ways that all of this can work-
then i'll rip out your heart and eat it as dessert."
He went to the Cougar, some 20 yards away
walked right up to her, and started to say
"I know you will kill me, i know you care not
about who i am, or what i have got-
but you are the hottest thing, hath seen this Hare;
and the whole death thing- i'm way too fucked up to care"
And that's the way it happens, or thats the way it goes;
and what happens to the rabbits, i guess no one ever knows...
there lived a small white rabbit, with a cute nose and ears.
He was hopping from field to field, hanging out with his friends
he loved the single rabbit life, wanted it never to end!
He loved chasing tail (cotton i mean)
and with each carrot ate, he picked up more steam!
One hot summer day, he was hopping 'cross the trail
but a strange sight, made him slow his pace like a snail!
Coming up to him, like a bullet from a Lueger
was a dark and seductive, female cougar.
Her voice was raspy, as she started to speak
and strongly of pheromones, did her fur reak.
"Hello little Rabbit, how do you do?"
Peter managed to come out with "Fine how are you?"
You could tell he was nervous! His paws were all sweaty!
His heart started to race and his breathing got heavy!
She circled around him, and stared at her prey,
opened her mouth and then did she say
"Call me a joint, cause i'll let you toke
i can show you things you have never heard spoke.
i'll show you the ways that all of this can work-
then i'll rip out your heart and eat it as dessert."
Peter's eyes got wide, and his mouth got dry.
He didn't know whether to stay, or go run and hide.
She looked right at him, and he felt her eyes stab
So he bolted quickly, like Lindsay Lohan from rehab!
He rushed through the thicket, heart racing so fast
Got to a meadow, and stopped to rest on the grass.
Not too long passed, and he heard a rustling sound...
he perked up his ears and took a look around-
From behind a tree, came slinking out slowly
a strange looking creature, who seemed sad and lonely.
Peter hopped forward, for he was a good little rabbit
and helping others out, had become quite the habit.
As he got closer, the better he could peer
at the strange looking creature, which resembled a deer..
"Are you lost deer?" Peter asked nicely
"Why yes can you help me?" the deer inquired politely.
"Do you need food? Are you alone?"
"I'm just scared, and need to be followed home"
Peter didn't hesitate, in his response at all,
He tried to console the deer by touching its----paw?
"My Miss Deer, your hooves have claws and are black!"
"I can not help it, Jesus made me like that"
Peter walked ahead of her, now cautious slightly
then his bunny ears heard her say lightly...
"Call me a joint, cause i'll let you toke
i can show you things you have never heard spoke.
i'll show you the ways that all of this can work-
then i'll rip out your heart and eat it as dessert."
Peter turned around, (not like Ace of Base said)
"You aren't a deer! You're the Cougar instead!"
The Coug shed her costume, in one single motion
and Peter took off, making all sorts of commotion
from behind him, he heard the cat say
"I'll get you my pretty, by the end of the day!"
Peter hopped far and fast, covered all sorts of ground;
got to a place with all sorts of people around.
He came up to a bar, and saw his friend Bruce-
then quickly noticed, they had 2 dollar (Well) carrot juice.
"I've got a story for you", Peter said while he ordered a glass-
then the two rabbits, proceded to get smashed.
Closing time came, and Peter stumbled out-
the Cougar's threat, he had forgotten all about...
and as he stumbled and hopped through the street
he heard in the distance, a voice sounding sweet.
He perked up his ears, he had heard this before
but this was the first time, he had wanted to hear more-
"Call me a joint, cause i'll let you toke
i can show you things you have never heard spoke.
i'll show you the ways that all of this can work-
then i'll rip out your heart and eat it as dessert."
He went to the Cougar, some 20 yards away
walked right up to her, and started to say
"I know you will kill me, i know you care not
about who i am, or what i have got-
but you are the hottest thing, hath seen this Hare;
and the whole death thing- i'm way too fucked up to care"
And that's the way it happens, or thats the way it goes;
and what happens to the rabbits, i guess no one ever knows...
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Hooters-1 Me-0
You know how every person with a swilla danglin between their legs who has ever stepped foot into a Hooters thinks they have a shot with one of the girls there?? They probably have like a 98 percent chance of being wrong I would say.
I mean, seriously- when eating there its sooooooo funny to just see the guys that roll up there by themselves, eat some terrible food, drink some beers and get a little less inhibited--- have the waitress (with a name usually ending in a Y as in I sound) touchin them on the arm or shoulder, laughing at everything they are saying (even most of the time they aren't listening to them or have no fuckin clue what the guy is talking about) and then at the end of the night throw her a 100% tip.... funny stuff... looooooooves it
I mean, I used to holla at this girl who worked there, so I would watch it all first hand. That lil' boo would take cheese from these guys like she was sampling at a dairy factory then pay for my stuff later that night and take me home. anyway- why all this.. i know i know
I went and watched Kobe rock socks the other night and our waitress was completely cute. She had this great bubbly personality, the whole "i'm working my way through school" story kickin, an incredible body (like seriously, the first time i have seen hooters shorts make someone's booty look good) and I mean- she was a hell of a waitress too. She was bringin us new pitchers as soon as the one she had just given us was half full (optimist until the day i die) and we were like flying through them.
I was smooth as eggs too... she was laughing, we were laughing... then sometime inbetween the 3rd and 4th quarter... it happened
Thats right....
Like usual, and being COMPLETELY typical-------I got smashed.
Well, smashed may be too strong, but definitely to that point where i now thought i had a chance with this girl. So did my two friends who were with me, i would like to point out, but my ego is already ridiculous... Miller Lite and some strategic flirting pushed it over the top Sly Stallone style.
Like I said...I was coy and funny for a while, but when my speech starting getting slurred and muddy, I could only come up with the classic cromagnon pick-up lines like
"You pretty"
or "I money have"
The time came to pay the bill, and i checked the receipt. Through my drunken lenses I saw that she had drawn a smiley faced and written "don't forget to leave your phone number"...
Ohhhhhhhhh snap. So, I ran my card and tipped away... thinking I had gotten a new potential.
The next morning I woke up and saw the receipt laying on my table. I looked at it and to no surprise, but complete buyers remorse, I had tipped 100%. I had just become the guy I made fun of.
"But wait!!!!! I got her number!!!!!!" I scrolled through my phone finding nary a new phone number, and then was hit with another great realization- she asked for my number... which is probably in a clear trash bag in the dumpster behind hooters....she had played me.... she had
played me well.
So, all in all... there were two games that night, and two killer performances. Kobe scored in the high 30s and won---- and Abby beat the shit out of me too. Well done woman. See you in game 2.
I mean, seriously- when eating there its sooooooo funny to just see the guys that roll up there by themselves, eat some terrible food, drink some beers and get a little less inhibited--- have the waitress (with a name usually ending in a Y as in I sound) touchin them on the arm or shoulder, laughing at everything they are saying (even most of the time they aren't listening to them or have no fuckin clue what the guy is talking about) and then at the end of the night throw her a 100% tip.... funny stuff... looooooooves it
I mean, I used to holla at this girl who worked there, so I would watch it all first hand. That lil' boo would take cheese from these guys like she was sampling at a dairy factory then pay for my stuff later that night and take me home. anyway- why all this.. i know i know
I went and watched Kobe rock socks the other night and our waitress was completely cute. She had this great bubbly personality, the whole "i'm working my way through school" story kickin, an incredible body (like seriously, the first time i have seen hooters shorts make someone's booty look good) and I mean- she was a hell of a waitress too. She was bringin us new pitchers as soon as the one she had just given us was half full (optimist until the day i die) and we were like flying through them.
I was smooth as eggs too... she was laughing, we were laughing... then sometime inbetween the 3rd and 4th quarter... it happened
Thats right....
Like usual, and being COMPLETELY typical-------I got smashed.
Well, smashed may be too strong, but definitely to that point where i now thought i had a chance with this girl. So did my two friends who were with me, i would like to point out, but my ego is already ridiculous... Miller Lite and some strategic flirting pushed it over the top Sly Stallone style.
Like I said...I was coy and funny for a while, but when my speech starting getting slurred and muddy, I could only come up with the classic cromagnon pick-up lines like
"You pretty"
or "I money have"
The time came to pay the bill, and i checked the receipt. Through my drunken lenses I saw that she had drawn a smiley faced and written "don't forget to leave your phone number"...
Ohhhhhhhhh snap. So, I ran my card and tipped away... thinking I had gotten a new potential.
The next morning I woke up and saw the receipt laying on my table. I looked at it and to no surprise, but complete buyers remorse, I had tipped 100%. I had just become the guy I made fun of.
"But wait!!!!! I got her number!!!!!!" I scrolled through my phone finding nary a new phone number, and then was hit with another great realization- she asked for my number... which is probably in a clear trash bag in the dumpster behind hooters....she had played me.... she had
played me well.
So, all in all... there were two games that night, and two killer performances. Kobe scored in the high 30s and won---- and Abby beat the shit out of me too. Well done woman. See you in game 2.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Jumpin The Gun
When trying to make some sort of progress that will last more than a few hours, there is not much worse of a thing one could do than coming out of the blocks way too quickly.
A friend of mine was talking to me this afternoon over lunch about how he recently made this mistake and is now with out a clue of a thing to do.
You see, my friend Chris recently met this girl, who he thought was pretty fly and really wanted to take out. After a while of trying, he finally got his wish and had (from what he reported on his very one-sided and bias stance on the review) a date for the ages. They had some killer wine, a great meal, did some fun things- and it was awesome.... the thing is- it didn't stop there.
Chris and her went out past all of this, and continued drinking all of the towns liquor like it was going to cure cancer or something if they finished enough of it. One thing led to another, and they ended up back at his apartment to call it a night.
He didn't get into too many wild details, but the context clues pointed to the aftermath coming down to them getting pretty physical. He told me it was kinda weird the next morning, and he really didn't know what to do about it.
I mean, Chris made some good points even in his silence. You see, its really tough to just hook up with someone when you are getting to know them and then get back on the track you were on that leads to the knowledge of each other on an equal level.
My advice to him was tricky to lend, because:
if he comes on too strong- he seems stalker.
if he doesn't call at all- he is just that asshole hook up.
So, the fine line must be found in order for him to ever share another meal with her.
I first was like- well do things that don't involve alcohol so you two wont get to a place where that could happen again.... then he was like 'well what if she wont come out'
then it hit me.
The way around this all, is to incorporate planned events including other people. Her opinion of him is not only slightly jaded because of him right now- its also (probably much even more so) probably having a lot of glass-is-not-half-full additions because of what SHE thinks HE thinks of her! What a pickle!
The main thing that Chris needs to do, if he wishes to go after her at all, is make sure that he doesnt press for any physicality or intimacy or tender moments for some time to come. This really shouldn't be that big of a deal if he really just wants to get to know her (like he so beat into the ground). Who knows what will come of it... i am sure when I find out if my advice worked though- you will be the first i boast it to.
toodles~
A friend of mine was talking to me this afternoon over lunch about how he recently made this mistake and is now with out a clue of a thing to do.
You see, my friend Chris recently met this girl, who he thought was pretty fly and really wanted to take out. After a while of trying, he finally got his wish and had (from what he reported on his very one-sided and bias stance on the review) a date for the ages. They had some killer wine, a great meal, did some fun things- and it was awesome.... the thing is- it didn't stop there.
Chris and her went out past all of this, and continued drinking all of the towns liquor like it was going to cure cancer or something if they finished enough of it. One thing led to another, and they ended up back at his apartment to call it a night.
He didn't get into too many wild details, but the context clues pointed to the aftermath coming down to them getting pretty physical. He told me it was kinda weird the next morning, and he really didn't know what to do about it.
I mean, Chris made some good points even in his silence. You see, its really tough to just hook up with someone when you are getting to know them and then get back on the track you were on that leads to the knowledge of each other on an equal level.
My advice to him was tricky to lend, because:
if he comes on too strong- he seems stalker.
if he doesn't call at all- he is just that asshole hook up.
So, the fine line must be found in order for him to ever share another meal with her.
I first was like- well do things that don't involve alcohol so you two wont get to a place where that could happen again.... then he was like 'well what if she wont come out'
then it hit me.
The way around this all, is to incorporate planned events including other people. Her opinion of him is not only slightly jaded because of him right now- its also (probably much even more so) probably having a lot of glass-is-not-half-full additions because of what SHE thinks HE thinks of her! What a pickle!
The main thing that Chris needs to do, if he wishes to go after her at all, is make sure that he doesnt press for any physicality or intimacy or tender moments for some time to come. This really shouldn't be that big of a deal if he really just wants to get to know her (like he so beat into the ground). Who knows what will come of it... i am sure when I find out if my advice worked though- you will be the first i boast it to.
toodles~
Monday, June 9, 2008
An Idea For Our Dying Economy
So, it seems our economy is in need of a boost.
I have long been told the more money people are spending, the more money people are making. Money changing hands is better for our country than it just sitting in a bank somewhere... or at least thats what a $$$1900 class told me (i wonder if that was a good economical move)
So anyway, I woke up the other morning, extremely hungover on my couch, and directly in front of me was the drum set for the video game rock band.
I looked around the rest of the room and saw the guitar, the mic, and a whole lot of cardboard that had "ROCK BAND" plastered all over it.
"DAMNIT!!!! I GOT DRUNK AND WENT TO WAL MART AGAIN!"
Well, it got me to thinking about all of the superfluous purchases I have made when intoxicated. Its like money means nothing. 'Hey you, person I have never met- let me buy you a drink' 'Hey Mr. Street Vendor selling heart attacks on a stick, I'll take two', 'Hey bartendress that just gave me one drink, let me tip you 100%' --------- you get the point.
ANYWAY, so if it is this way for me- I figure it has to be this way for a lot of people. So, I say listen up Greenspan---here is the greatest idea ever....
Let's give all of America BOOZE and leave more stores open past 2. I mean, I don't want to encourage drunk driving- but drunk SHOPPING is a completely different thing. I mean, how many video games do you think are actually bought between the hours of 1am-4am sober anyway? Those folks are either tossed to the side or shit-ass-high. I would actually wager to guess that 1/3rd of my DVD's were purchased under the influence.
So there it is... still give the tickets for DWI's, but when you catch someone SWI- hand them another mind eraser and mention how fuckin cool that plasma would look hanging on their wall. Get some whiskey bitches, its time to shop!
I have long been told the more money people are spending, the more money people are making. Money changing hands is better for our country than it just sitting in a bank somewhere... or at least thats what a $$$1900 class told me (i wonder if that was a good economical move)
So anyway, I woke up the other morning, extremely hungover on my couch, and directly in front of me was the drum set for the video game rock band.
I looked around the rest of the room and saw the guitar, the mic, and a whole lot of cardboard that had "ROCK BAND" plastered all over it.
"DAMNIT!!!! I GOT DRUNK AND WENT TO WAL MART AGAIN!"
Well, it got me to thinking about all of the superfluous purchases I have made when intoxicated. Its like money means nothing. 'Hey you, person I have never met- let me buy you a drink' 'Hey Mr. Street Vendor selling heart attacks on a stick, I'll take two', 'Hey bartendress that just gave me one drink, let me tip you 100%' --------- you get the point.
ANYWAY, so if it is this way for me- I figure it has to be this way for a lot of people. So, I say listen up Greenspan---here is the greatest idea ever....
Let's give all of America BOOZE and leave more stores open past 2. I mean, I don't want to encourage drunk driving- but drunk SHOPPING is a completely different thing. I mean, how many video games do you think are actually bought between the hours of 1am-4am sober anyway? Those folks are either tossed to the side or shit-ass-high. I would actually wager to guess that 1/3rd of my DVD's were purchased under the influence.
So there it is... still give the tickets for DWI's, but when you catch someone SWI- hand them another mind eraser and mention how fuckin cool that plasma would look hanging on their wall. Get some whiskey bitches, its time to shop!
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Is She Into You?
So, you are dying to know if she is or is not right? You have hung out some, maybe been on a couple dates... who knows- but still the question is hot on your mind and heavy on your tongue... so here they are the top 10 ways to know if she is into you in "that" way
1) Calm Touching ~~~~~ does she touch you when you are talking? Does she touch your forearm when you make her laugh? Does she come up behind you in a public setting and touch your back or hand? If so- thats 1...
2) Laughing ~~~~~ I think I am pretty funny.... but seriously, I am not THAT funny. You are not either. When she is laughing at everything you are saying; even stuff like "that reminds me of a Saved by the Bell episode!" thats a sign... that is 2
3) Appearance Changes ~~~~~ so, you keep your hair short, and got your hair cut. You see her the next day and she says something about your newish shorter locks... maybe you shaved off that skeezey goatee... she notices; guess what... sign #3
4) Texting ~~~~~ does she send you texts for nary a reason? she keep in touch with you multiple times daily? you get the idea...
5) Gifting ~~~~~ has she bought you a small gift for no apparent reason? Why would she do that? What's that? The 'thing' made her think of you? More like she was thinking about you and looking for an excuse to tell you...
6) Your clothes ~~~~~ does she have one of your shirts that she wears around? hmmmm...
7) Fellatio ~~~~~~ does she go down on you a lot? Most girls don't like to do this... this might be a positive sign for you
8) "you're the best" ~~~~~ does she scream out phrases like such when the two of you are sleeping together after she made the move? Odds are, it is far from the truth. I don't care who you think you are. She is just trying to let you in on the fact she may kinda dig you. Yeah, go ahead and pull her hair if she asks...
9) Shrine ~~~~~ does she have an altar of sorts in her bedroom with 20-100 pictures of you that were taken with out your knowledge? Are there locks of your hair and fingernail trimmings that have been shaped into a doll of sorts? Are there at least 15 lit candles at all times around said display? Is there a dummy's guide to voodoo and love potions sitting beside the altar? You might be onto something here... not definite, but almost
10) Baby Pictures ~~~~~ notice pictures of babies around her apartment that look like she has photoshopped together? They look like they were made from a combination of yours and her baby pictures? Did your mom call and tell you that someone broke in their house and all they took was your baby pictures and the bottle that had your baby teeth in it?
Ok.... there they are. top 10. if this is going on, you are in son!
1) Calm Touching ~~~~~ does she touch you when you are talking? Does she touch your forearm when you make her laugh? Does she come up behind you in a public setting and touch your back or hand? If so- thats 1...
2) Laughing ~~~~~ I think I am pretty funny.... but seriously, I am not THAT funny. You are not either. When she is laughing at everything you are saying; even stuff like "that reminds me of a Saved by the Bell episode!" thats a sign... that is 2
3) Appearance Changes ~~~~~ so, you keep your hair short, and got your hair cut. You see her the next day and she says something about your newish shorter locks... maybe you shaved off that skeezey goatee... she notices; guess what... sign #3
4) Texting ~~~~~ does she send you texts for nary a reason? she keep in touch with you multiple times daily? you get the idea...
5) Gifting ~~~~~ has she bought you a small gift for no apparent reason? Why would she do that? What's that? The 'thing' made her think of you? More like she was thinking about you and looking for an excuse to tell you...
6) Your clothes ~~~~~ does she have one of your shirts that she wears around? hmmmm...
7) Fellatio ~~~~~~ does she go down on you a lot? Most girls don't like to do this... this might be a positive sign for you
8) "you're the best" ~~~~~ does she scream out phrases like such when the two of you are sleeping together after she made the move? Odds are, it is far from the truth. I don't care who you think you are. She is just trying to let you in on the fact she may kinda dig you. Yeah, go ahead and pull her hair if she asks...
9) Shrine ~~~~~ does she have an altar of sorts in her bedroom with 20-100 pictures of you that were taken with out your knowledge? Are there locks of your hair and fingernail trimmings that have been shaped into a doll of sorts? Are there at least 15 lit candles at all times around said display? Is there a dummy's guide to voodoo and love potions sitting beside the altar? You might be onto something here... not definite, but almost
10) Baby Pictures ~~~~~ notice pictures of babies around her apartment that look like she has photoshopped together? They look like they were made from a combination of yours and her baby pictures? Did your mom call and tell you that someone broke in their house and all they took was your baby pictures and the bottle that had your baby teeth in it?
Ok.... there they are. top 10. if this is going on, you are in son!
Monday, June 2, 2008
Without Soul
I know what you are thinking...
No.
I am not referring to someone who can not play the blues.
I got told the other day, by this female i know, that I have no soul.
I have never dated her. I have never kissed her. I have never held her hand. I have never dated a friend of hers. I have never even dated or hooked up with someone that she actually knows well enough to talk about it.
Yet, she has often accused your boi here of being 'dirty' or a 'man whore'.
It often makes me laugh to hear such nonsense... because I think ones 'whoreness' depends on the quality of a said hook-up, which brings me to an interesting subject---- what makes a man whore.
Some would say its like algebra. Guy A has slept with X amount of girls whom of which Y were skanks and P were not all the while dating T of them { X=(X-P) - (X-T)- Y}, where as some would just tell you that its if a guy has lots of sex with different chicks period...
I think I like the first option. A guy becomes a man whore depending on how frequent he goes guttering. What is guttering? Its when you go after a 'gutter slut' or really trashy easy girl, more than likely crawling with std's and someone you would never admit to another that you actually slept with.
However, girls are kinda judgers right? I know that some of my 'partners' have commented on some of my past girlfriends or partners saying things like 'oh, shes hot' and in turn, probably made me more attractive (remember, grass is greener on the other side, but the grass on your side is greenest when someone else wants it)
Kind of disjointed thus far, but here goes my hypothesis. If you have slept with 20 girls, but they were all really really attractive, to the point where number 21 thinks that they were all hot enough that she almost feels like she is probably not as attractive as them, then you are not a whore. You are 'desireable'. But, if you slept with 20 girls and 15 of them are just dogs, then you are a man whore, who just blind-squirrel-acorned himself into some good places a couple times.
Of course, if 15 of them are dogs, you are probably telling number 21 that you have only slept with 7 or 8 girls. She probably cut her number in half too. Oh the lies. Oh the humanity! Maybe the fact I can see this and said something about it points a finger in my direction--- hmmmm... if that was the case, then maybe that girl would be right about soul or lack there of. This is confusing even me now. where's that milky whiskey?!?
keep your mind out of the gutter folks.
cd
No.
I am not referring to someone who can not play the blues.
I got told the other day, by this female i know, that I have no soul.
I have never dated her. I have never kissed her. I have never held her hand. I have never dated a friend of hers. I have never even dated or hooked up with someone that she actually knows well enough to talk about it.
Yet, she has often accused your boi here of being 'dirty' or a 'man whore'.
It often makes me laugh to hear such nonsense... because I think ones 'whoreness' depends on the quality of a said hook-up, which brings me to an interesting subject---- what makes a man whore.
Some would say its like algebra. Guy A has slept with X amount of girls whom of which Y were skanks and P were not all the while dating T of them { X=(X-P) - (X-T)- Y}, where as some would just tell you that its if a guy has lots of sex with different chicks period...
I think I like the first option. A guy becomes a man whore depending on how frequent he goes guttering. What is guttering? Its when you go after a 'gutter slut' or really trashy easy girl, more than likely crawling with std's and someone you would never admit to another that you actually slept with.
However, girls are kinda judgers right? I know that some of my 'partners' have commented on some of my past girlfriends or partners saying things like 'oh, shes hot' and in turn, probably made me more attractive (remember, grass is greener on the other side, but the grass on your side is greenest when someone else wants it)
Kind of disjointed thus far, but here goes my hypothesis. If you have slept with 20 girls, but they were all really really attractive, to the point where number 21 thinks that they were all hot enough that she almost feels like she is probably not as attractive as them, then you are not a whore. You are 'desireable'. But, if you slept with 20 girls and 15 of them are just dogs, then you are a man whore, who just blind-squirrel-acorned himself into some good places a couple times.
Of course, if 15 of them are dogs, you are probably telling number 21 that you have only slept with 7 or 8 girls. She probably cut her number in half too. Oh the lies. Oh the humanity! Maybe the fact I can see this and said something about it points a finger in my direction--- hmmmm... if that was the case, then maybe that girl would be right about soul or lack there of. This is confusing even me now. where's that milky whiskey?!?
keep your mind out of the gutter folks.
cd
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Fuck George Lucas
I really have decided that Mr. Lucas is out to erase every positive memory I have from cinema in my childhood.
I saw Indy 4 on opening day, and I got to admit... I was supremely stoked to see it. I mean, let's face it. I was the perfect age for those movies (the first three) and they helped create so much wonder and whim in an incredibly over active imagination.
Now, I know that I was barely alive (if even alive) when "Raiders" came out, but by the time that home video started to take off, all three had been released and my parents used them as a baby sitter for me. I would watch Indy battle snakes and Nazi's and find all of the things I was learning about in sunday school (save the 3 stones in 'Temple') and then go find something to have Mom and Dad hide and I would go walk the path of God in hopes of finding said treasure.
So, when you see him stand and his shadow darken the side of the old Ford (within the first few minutes) and that famous music come bellowing through the speakers, I was jazzed. I was like.."I am finally seeing an Indiana Jones movie in the theater. WOW!"
Then, the rest of the movie happened, and so many times all I wanted to do was just walk out.
Between Lucas and Spielberg, they have had a hand in (if not doing it completely alone) Star Wars, Indiana Jones, The Goonies, and Back to The Future. Want to take a wild guess at what my favorite videos to watch as a child were?
You got it. The lot of them.
Now, everyone seems to agree that Episodes 1-3 were so bad that most people have lobotomized themselves to find a way to forget about them. "...Crystal Skull" is the same way for me. But still, its okay right? They were just looking for that dollar... at least I have my Goonies....
Wait. That won't be true in a little over a year.
Yes, according to most internet gossip, all of the original cast (still alive) have signed on with Spielberg and Donner to produce a sequel to this film as well. Can someone tell me why?
The episode of South Park "Free Hat" (season 6) pins Lucas and Stevie about as well as anything ever could, so I can just direct you to http://www.southparkzone.com if you want a good chuckle...
I have much to vent about, but today can not be the day for such venting. I don't feel ghetto enough to keep up with the vernacular commonly found in these posts. All I know is that someone or a group of someones needs to pool together some money and put out hits on these two men before they put their venomous tentacles on the rest of classic fun film.
c-out
I saw Indy 4 on opening day, and I got to admit... I was supremely stoked to see it. I mean, let's face it. I was the perfect age for those movies (the first three) and they helped create so much wonder and whim in an incredibly over active imagination.
Now, I know that I was barely alive (if even alive) when "Raiders" came out, but by the time that home video started to take off, all three had been released and my parents used them as a baby sitter for me. I would watch Indy battle snakes and Nazi's and find all of the things I was learning about in sunday school (save the 3 stones in 'Temple') and then go find something to have Mom and Dad hide and I would go walk the path of God in hopes of finding said treasure.
So, when you see him stand and his shadow darken the side of the old Ford (within the first few minutes) and that famous music come bellowing through the speakers, I was jazzed. I was like.."I am finally seeing an Indiana Jones movie in the theater. WOW!"
Then, the rest of the movie happened, and so many times all I wanted to do was just walk out.
Between Lucas and Spielberg, they have had a hand in (if not doing it completely alone) Star Wars, Indiana Jones, The Goonies, and Back to The Future. Want to take a wild guess at what my favorite videos to watch as a child were?
You got it. The lot of them.
Now, everyone seems to agree that Episodes 1-3 were so bad that most people have lobotomized themselves to find a way to forget about them. "...Crystal Skull" is the same way for me. But still, its okay right? They were just looking for that dollar... at least I have my Goonies....
Wait. That won't be true in a little over a year.
Yes, according to most internet gossip, all of the original cast (still alive) have signed on with Spielberg and Donner to produce a sequel to this film as well. Can someone tell me why?
The episode of South Park "Free Hat" (season 6) pins Lucas and Stevie about as well as anything ever could, so I can just direct you to http://www.southparkzone.com if you want a good chuckle...
I have much to vent about, but today can not be the day for such venting. I don't feel ghetto enough to keep up with the vernacular commonly found in these posts. All I know is that someone or a group of someones needs to pool together some money and put out hits on these two men before they put their venomous tentacles on the rest of classic fun film.
c-out
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Last Night In The DJ Booth
Nothing quite lifts a mood like Jack chasing Rumple... even though I walked in to set up the gig last night feeling all knife in the heart, my good friends quickly put me back in the mood to do what I do best- entertain (just like I am you-snap)
Shit was bumpin for sure, and there were some really hot ladies straight leanin all over the place. I was getting sweated by the owner though for playing too much rap, because he wanted to keep it more friendly to everyone....
well, to me- that meant 'more old school'
I had to dive deep friends, but don't think I didn't pull it out. Finding PM Dawn buried deep in some back ass file on the drive got the grinding going for even the cats who were old enough to plan a schedule around Miami Vice. I also yanked out some "Iesha" "Hip Hop Hooray" even some Technotronic. I was all over the board, and everyone out was all over the floor.
Closing time was looming, and I knew I only had time for a few more songs, and had my stuff planned out. Problem was this not-so-hot girl was like HOVERING around the booth like there was some kind of tractor beam looping her in a short orbit. She was hassling me about playing this one song for a long long time, and finally she won my heart over.
How?
By throwin out my second favorite thing in the world----money.
I am not talking like a Lincoln or Hamilton either. She threw (count em) FIIIIIIIIIIVE 20 dollar bills at me.
Needless to say, her song was on before the money even hit the tables. Note to all wanting to hear a song- money works. I got this shirt on sale and these shoes may or may not be real K-Coles....point by that is, extra scrill is nice.
The night ended well, and I started back on track to get right by the world. I still got some work to do though... we will have to dive into that at a later date
C
Shit was bumpin for sure, and there were some really hot ladies straight leanin all over the place. I was getting sweated by the owner though for playing too much rap, because he wanted to keep it more friendly to everyone....
well, to me- that meant 'more old school'
I had to dive deep friends, but don't think I didn't pull it out. Finding PM Dawn buried deep in some back ass file on the drive got the grinding going for even the cats who were old enough to plan a schedule around Miami Vice. I also yanked out some "Iesha" "Hip Hop Hooray" even some Technotronic. I was all over the board, and everyone out was all over the floor.
Closing time was looming, and I knew I only had time for a few more songs, and had my stuff planned out. Problem was this not-so-hot girl was like HOVERING around the booth like there was some kind of tractor beam looping her in a short orbit. She was hassling me about playing this one song for a long long time, and finally she won my heart over.
How?
By throwin out my second favorite thing in the world----money.
I am not talking like a Lincoln or Hamilton either. She threw (count em) FIIIIIIIIIIVE 20 dollar bills at me.
Needless to say, her song was on before the money even hit the tables. Note to all wanting to hear a song- money works. I got this shirt on sale and these shoes may or may not be real K-Coles....point by that is, extra scrill is nice.
The night ended well, and I started back on track to get right by the world. I still got some work to do though... we will have to dive into that at a later date
C
Monday, May 26, 2008
Wooin back the Ex
I don't know why i haven't thought of this before... but, I have really figured out what will re-attract a girl to me.
I was at this wedding this past Saturday, two old friends of mine tying knots and all, and my ex girlfriend was in the wedding party.
God......she looked UNREAL hot.
Its not like I haven't missed her for a long time either, and like I haven't seen her in forever, and I was nervous but knew I had to tell her some things. And I knew that I had to be sober to do it.
Post wedding- I arrived at the reception stag, and started chit chattin with some old friends, having a pretty good time. I kept on seeing her out of the corner of my eye... I was overcome with emotions... knew exactly what I had to do... tell her what was really on my mind.
I caught her outside for a smoke and let the rain pour. I was real and honest, completely sober- and it came out exactly as I meant it to. Even if it wasn't going to work, I still said it and felt great about it.
So, with confession out of the way, I figured it was time to start tippin cups with the best of them. Slamming beers with guys i haven't seen in a while, drinkin some strong straight doubles with my ol' twin... yeah, shit was flowin hot.
Dancing came about, everything was going great... but then it happened....
Your boi slid past tipsy into wasted.
Now, the thing about me is, when I am drunk- I get supreme tunnel vision and lose all ability to rationalize... this combined with the fact that I can still talk, stand, and even pull off at times like I am sober is a terrible combination. While most people would have thrown up in the toilet and passed out in a rose bush- I keep drinking, and getting less cool, more impatient and flat out ridiculous.
So, what better way to woo back the love of my life, the one that got away, this girl I have missed for a straight 13 months, than to talk trash to the guy thats hitting on her. Yeah, nothing is as hot as jealousy. NOTHING IN THE WORLD says "I have grown up a lot" like someone trying to show their alpha male side either.
Color. Me. A. Fool.
It wasnt until like me calling her for the second time that night after the bar (oh, and dont worry, I discovered the next day that I had accompanied them with texts) that a moment of clarity came to me and I realized how foolish I was being.
I tried to text her the next day, but response was to be found like a positive(honest) review of the new Indiana Jones movie.
So, was it fate I fucked that up, or just me being a complete idiot once again? I am not 100% sure of the answer to that, but I can tell you that for your boi here-- alcohol and exes are oil and water.
I was at this wedding this past Saturday, two old friends of mine tying knots and all, and my ex girlfriend was in the wedding party.
God......she looked UNREAL hot.
Its not like I haven't missed her for a long time either, and like I haven't seen her in forever, and I was nervous but knew I had to tell her some things. And I knew that I had to be sober to do it.
Post wedding- I arrived at the reception stag, and started chit chattin with some old friends, having a pretty good time. I kept on seeing her out of the corner of my eye... I was overcome with emotions... knew exactly what I had to do... tell her what was really on my mind.
I caught her outside for a smoke and let the rain pour. I was real and honest, completely sober- and it came out exactly as I meant it to. Even if it wasn't going to work, I still said it and felt great about it.
So, with confession out of the way, I figured it was time to start tippin cups with the best of them. Slamming beers with guys i haven't seen in a while, drinkin some strong straight doubles with my ol' twin... yeah, shit was flowin hot.
Dancing came about, everything was going great... but then it happened....
Your boi slid past tipsy into wasted.
Now, the thing about me is, when I am drunk- I get supreme tunnel vision and lose all ability to rationalize... this combined with the fact that I can still talk, stand, and even pull off at times like I am sober is a terrible combination. While most people would have thrown up in the toilet and passed out in a rose bush- I keep drinking, and getting less cool, more impatient and flat out ridiculous.
So, what better way to woo back the love of my life, the one that got away, this girl I have missed for a straight 13 months, than to talk trash to the guy thats hitting on her. Yeah, nothing is as hot as jealousy. NOTHING IN THE WORLD says "I have grown up a lot" like someone trying to show their alpha male side either.
Color. Me. A. Fool.
It wasnt until like me calling her for the second time that night after the bar (oh, and dont worry, I discovered the next day that I had accompanied them with texts) that a moment of clarity came to me and I realized how foolish I was being.
I tried to text her the next day, but response was to be found like a positive(honest) review of the new Indiana Jones movie.
So, was it fate I fucked that up, or just me being a complete idiot once again? I am not 100% sure of the answer to that, but I can tell you that for your boi here-- alcohol and exes are oil and water.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Cause that's the way it goes
I met this girl last night who was 100% my type.
"What is my type?" ask ye....
Attractive and female.
I probably spent 15 minutes talking to this girl, and she was tossin out sexual innuendo's like celebrities and opening pitches. With each passing flirty comment, she leaned in a little closer to your boy. I was mad cheesin too, showin tells like a frat kid plaing hold 'em at the Belagio- she knew I was diggin.
Then, I made the mistake of mistakes. I got this new philosophy on bein out and interactin with ladies- and really I think all should apply it to their repertoire-- and that is
DONT OFFER TO BUY HER A DRINK.
I did, see, and I mean like right after that she sprinted like Marion Jones on steroids to the next sucker with out even throwin me the 10-dig to use to holla. I didn't wanna play cops and O.J. either, so I just let her go. Had I not bought her that drink we would have talked longer, no doubt in my mind.
Why the no drink buy?
Well, EVERYONE does it. Let her be her. She paid 60 for that mani-pedi, shes got some paper. Be assertive and let her know that its your time you are offering, not 6 bucks for vodka diluted cranberry. It makes you stand apart and not seem like you just goin for the milk of the cow.
And I mean seriously, let's be honest. When was the last time you bought a girl a drink (or ladies a guy bought you a drink) and it went down? OR if it did go down, when was the last time it happened and you woke beside someone that you would want to take to brunch with your friends? Seeeee whatta mean...
Anyway, lesson learned once again. Until then peops, yo boy CD out.
"What is my type?" ask ye....
Attractive and female.
I probably spent 15 minutes talking to this girl, and she was tossin out sexual innuendo's like celebrities and opening pitches. With each passing flirty comment, she leaned in a little closer to your boy. I was mad cheesin too, showin tells like a frat kid plaing hold 'em at the Belagio- she knew I was diggin.
Then, I made the mistake of mistakes. I got this new philosophy on bein out and interactin with ladies- and really I think all should apply it to their repertoire-- and that is
DONT OFFER TO BUY HER A DRINK.
I did, see, and I mean like right after that she sprinted like Marion Jones on steroids to the next sucker with out even throwin me the 10-dig to use to holla. I didn't wanna play cops and O.J. either, so I just let her go. Had I not bought her that drink we would have talked longer, no doubt in my mind.
Why the no drink buy?
Well, EVERYONE does it. Let her be her. She paid 60 for that mani-pedi, shes got some paper. Be assertive and let her know that its your time you are offering, not 6 bucks for vodka diluted cranberry. It makes you stand apart and not seem like you just goin for the milk of the cow.
And I mean seriously, let's be honest. When was the last time you bought a girl a drink (or ladies a guy bought you a drink) and it went down? OR if it did go down, when was the last time it happened and you woke beside someone that you would want to take to brunch with your friends? Seeeee whatta mean...
Anyway, lesson learned once again. Until then peops, yo boy CD out.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Suh-suh-softly as if i play piano in tha dark...
Um, I still love ATLiens... hence my blog title. Every American should own that album. I also can absolutely not get enough of Pharrell... everything he touches is sick-mad-hot-phat-(insert other ghetto adj for great) good.
So I danced on a shark tank last night. I can not express to you just how good of a dancer i believe myself to be about 7 drinks in to an evening. I am convinced that I could out moonwalk MJ, out tootsie the 69 boys, obviously out-do stupid shit with my hands and such with the Los Del Rio, and maybe even that cat hitting on the hottest girl in the bar. Yeah... he has got sick moves. He should probably be on "So You Think You Can Dance"... but i still crip walk to him and bend down and dust his shoes off...
yep.
I am that guy.
So, I wiped the LACK of errant latent particles off of this guys 200 dollar limited edition Puma's and proceeded to cut in with the girl he was hollerin at. I should point out that I have like three moves (that i picked up off of the 'yeah' video) and since I was a little bit tipsy (and by a "little" i mean like as teency as the ocean--------word) I rushed through those moves quickly. I mean, I felt I pulled them off pretty well (like a 6.23423984729384 on my 1-10 scale) but after those were exhausted, I had to resort to the only other thing I knew...
thats right...
the moves from the chorus of "You've got it (the right stuff)" by NKOTB. I mean, it helped that I had seen their performance on the Today Show via youtube the preceding afternoon- and tha shit was fresh in my brain... but, let's be real honest... that was not cool then, much less 17 years later (please, do take note Jordan, Donny, Jonathan, Danny, and Joey)
But, I did them. The look on the girls face was quite similar to the look that most people have the first time they see child birth on video. A moment of sobriety hit me, and I realized that I had lost my opportunity as an option and bowed out like Tracy McGrady in the first round. Thank god the people I was with had skys-the-limit bottle service, because you know that goose and juice makes that shame go away quicker than a Jessica Simpson movie on the big screen.
I was soon knee deep in conversations that I couldn't even begin to recall or care about, and found myself miserable at work some 6 hours later....
So I danced on a shark tank last night. I can not express to you just how good of a dancer i believe myself to be about 7 drinks in to an evening. I am convinced that I could out moonwalk MJ, out tootsie the 69 boys, obviously out-do stupid shit with my hands and such with the Los Del Rio, and maybe even that cat hitting on the hottest girl in the bar. Yeah... he has got sick moves. He should probably be on "So You Think You Can Dance"... but i still crip walk to him and bend down and dust his shoes off...
yep.
I am that guy.
So, I wiped the LACK of errant latent particles off of this guys 200 dollar limited edition Puma's and proceeded to cut in with the girl he was hollerin at. I should point out that I have like three moves (that i picked up off of the 'yeah' video) and since I was a little bit tipsy (and by a "little" i mean like as teency as the ocean--------word) I rushed through those moves quickly. I mean, I felt I pulled them off pretty well (like a 6.23423984729384 on my 1-10 scale) but after those were exhausted, I had to resort to the only other thing I knew...
thats right...
the moves from the chorus of "You've got it (the right stuff)" by NKOTB. I mean, it helped that I had seen their performance on the Today Show via youtube the preceding afternoon- and tha shit was fresh in my brain... but, let's be real honest... that was not cool then, much less 17 years later (please, do take note Jordan, Donny, Jonathan, Danny, and Joey)
But, I did them. The look on the girls face was quite similar to the look that most people have the first time they see child birth on video. A moment of sobriety hit me, and I realized that I had lost my opportunity as an option and bowed out like Tracy McGrady in the first round. Thank god the people I was with had skys-the-limit bottle service, because you know that goose and juice makes that shame go away quicker than a Jessica Simpson movie on the big screen.
I was soon knee deep in conversations that I couldn't even begin to recall or care about, and found myself miserable at work some 6 hours later....
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Need To Shave
I woke up and took a look at my grill in the mirror today, and i must have slept on some miracle grow, because even though I shaved before I went out last night, its already come back out like a post happy hour puke and rally. Some cats get that fortunate 5 O'Clock shadow (ala Justin Timba-Timba-Timberlake) but not this white boy. Nope, my shit grows in spotty like an old school case of the measles leaving me looking like the single guy who drives the 1980's Econoline and lives across the street from the Jr High.
I made a hard right turn on my hot water knob, and let that water heat up to a sterilizing temperature, while i reached for that American flag colored can of Barbasol. I coated my face with a phat lather, and threw my Shick Tracer under that water as to heat up the blades.
As I took the razor to my skin, I came to a horrible realization. The blades were duller than a wedding reception in a Baptist social hall. For me to clean myself up back to socially acceptable I was going to have to run out to Wal-Mart for a whole second and pick up a new set of blades.
I got to Wally World and mad dashed to the right isle, looking for replacement blades when I was popped with yet another moment of shock and awe. I guess I really have only bought disposables or new razors before, because I had really never thought about how ludicrous replacement blade prices were. I mean, we might as well back our dollar in these things, because they are evidently more precious than rocks that come in blue boxes.
Why does it cost more to buy four blades than it does to buy a whole razor? Are these things hand cut by American Union workers from onyx or something? I refused to throw Shick any more paper than I had to, and just bought another four pack of the disposable tracers.
I made it home and within strokes my face was back to egg smooth and my disaster was dodged like our past two presidents in a draft year. Now- I could hit up lunch with no frets.
I made a hard right turn on my hot water knob, and let that water heat up to a sterilizing temperature, while i reached for that American flag colored can of Barbasol. I coated my face with a phat lather, and threw my Shick Tracer under that water as to heat up the blades.
As I took the razor to my skin, I came to a horrible realization. The blades were duller than a wedding reception in a Baptist social hall. For me to clean myself up back to socially acceptable I was going to have to run out to Wal-Mart for a whole second and pick up a new set of blades.
I got to Wally World and mad dashed to the right isle, looking for replacement blades when I was popped with yet another moment of shock and awe. I guess I really have only bought disposables or new razors before, because I had really never thought about how ludicrous replacement blade prices were. I mean, we might as well back our dollar in these things, because they are evidently more precious than rocks that come in blue boxes.
Why does it cost more to buy four blades than it does to buy a whole razor? Are these things hand cut by American Union workers from onyx or something? I refused to throw Shick any more paper than I had to, and just bought another four pack of the disposable tracers.
I made it home and within strokes my face was back to egg smooth and my disaster was dodged like our past two presidents in a draft year. Now- I could hit up lunch with no frets.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Just Collectin....
So I found the most fun thing to do on 6th street... and it really doesn't involve actually hittin up the bars or quick peepin the artsy cats doin their thing on the sidewalk...
no no...
this is much more fun.
My friend and I were leaving our favorite watering hole last night, when we were pretty much hit with the same idea simultaneously- talk to every single girl we could whilst straight patrollin the massively crowded east side of 6th...
Although we did get just flat-out, cold-busted, shot-down a few times... some floozies were more than willing and almost able to chat--------- and we didn't even have to buy them a drank like T-Pain to get their time, and you know I surely don't have a Caddy (much less a grey one)
Finding a crowd of girls to engage in conversation was easy enough... I will admit that some of them might not have been as cute once removed from the dim lights of the famed strip and before 4 L-I-T's.....and I would say every other group we walked up to didn't hit us with the Shi-nae-nae beat box the second we presented our case...
Havin that wing man is very key, because keeping yourself interesting at 2:30 in the morning to someone who has no idea who you are, is not always the easiest thing. A good wing man though, like my boy DJ Sta (pronounced stay) makes that shit run smooth as eggs. In our one hour window (cause the street really does vacate around 3) we managed to come up with several invites to parties, and about half a dozen phone numbers that may never be called.
no no...
this is much more fun.
My friend and I were leaving our favorite watering hole last night, when we were pretty much hit with the same idea simultaneously- talk to every single girl we could whilst straight patrollin the massively crowded east side of 6th...
Although we did get just flat-out, cold-busted, shot-down a few times... some floozies were more than willing and almost able to chat--------- and we didn't even have to buy them a drank like T-Pain to get their time, and you know I surely don't have a Caddy (much less a grey one)
Finding a crowd of girls to engage in conversation was easy enough... I will admit that some of them might not have been as cute once removed from the dim lights of the famed strip and before 4 L-I-T's.....and I would say every other group we walked up to didn't hit us with the Shi-nae-nae beat box the second we presented our case...
Havin that wing man is very key, because keeping yourself interesting at 2:30 in the morning to someone who has no idea who you are, is not always the easiest thing. A good wing man though, like my boy DJ Sta (pronounced stay) makes that shit run smooth as eggs. In our one hour window (cause the street really does vacate around 3) we managed to come up with several invites to parties, and about half a dozen phone numbers that may never be called.
Friday, May 16, 2008
When Michael Douglas Offers You A Joint...
When I finally came to, I was in a completely unfamiliar room and completely naked. I felt her bare back up against mine though, and remembered exactly where I was. I reached my hand back and caressed her side, and felt her silk skin underneath my palm. I immediately cracked a massive grin, and rolled over to her.
She hated being snuggled in the mornings. I mean, hated it. She was not a morning person what so ever. At least, not with me she wasn't. I always had a good fifteen minutes of bare holding her though before she would wake up enough to realize that she hated that she had woken up.
I think a large part of this was due to the fact that both of us were literally furnaces when we slept. As much as I wanted to spoon her for every second I was in bed with her, I never could because we would both end up sweating like we just finished running a marathon. I took in a deep breath and inhaled her natural scent. Boo's smell, even without perfume, was something that I never will be able to forget. It would tickle my nose hairs and cause a pulsation throughout my nervous system and make me shake like I was standing outside amid freezing temperatures in only shorts and a tee-shirt.
The bed we were sleeping in was enormous, a California King I do believe is what they would call this mattress size, but we still managed to only use as much as we would have in a twin. Even though we wouldn't always cuddle, we always had some piece of both of us touching each other, letting each other know that the other was there. It was a form of connecting, which was a word that better described what we had than any other one that I have ever been able to come across.
I wanted to wake up and begin the day, but I didn't want to leave where I was. Every second I spent with this girl, I cherished as if it was the very last. When I was with her, I wanted to make sure that there wasn't anything left to do, because it all felt so right. Today was going to be incredible. I knew this not only because I was waking up naked with this amazing girl, but also because we were in Florida.
The weather the previous day had been nothing short of spellbinding. Skies so clear, that you couldn't see a cloud anywhere in them. The water was a luscious green, and the sands were pearly white. If romance had a place to call home, this had to be it. She began to toss a little, and I could tell that she was about to wake up, and shift away from me like she always did.
Sometimes though, people surprise you. Maybe it was because of where we were, or maybe it was something in her at that second, but she rolled over and put her arm across my chest and raised her leg over my thigh. She let out a raspy 'good morning' and I felt more at home than I had in years. My desire to do anything else left me stranded in that room, and I fell back asleep.
I don't know how much time had passed, but I felt her get out of the bed, and heard the snapping sound of spandex as she raised her panties over her unmentionables. I opened my eyes and watched her thin-yet curvey frame disappear through the bathroom doorway, and I stretched a bit and got out of bed myself.
I found my trusty white basketball shorts on the floor beside the bed, and put them on and made my way in to brush my teeth and see what she was up to. Her tooth brush weighed heavily on the right side of her mouth, while she made intense brush strokes on the sides bottom row of teeth. She leaned of the sink and looked deeply into the mirror with a pointless gaze, then took her left hand and slid the travel sized tooth paste in my direction.
The way that she would behave in the mornings was comical to say the least. Like I said earlier, she was never the warmest person; but was usually the first to accuse of me being either ‘grumpy’, ‘cranky’, or ‘quiet’ in our first minutes of being awake. It was turning into somewhat of a little game we played, but this morning, there was not a tee time to be had. She spit the built up toothpaste foam from her mouth, and touched me on the arm as she exited the bathroom.
Boo was wonderful when it came to always having coffee made. No matter where we were; be it at work, my home, or anywhere else she would always have a fresh pot brewing by the time I would come join her in the kitchen. So, when I made my leave of the bedroom a few minutes later; it came to me as no great shock that the strong rich smell of a freshly brewing breakfast roast filled the room.
The place where we were staying, was right on the beach. The back wall of the living room had a series of three over-sized sliding doors, that’s glass served as spectacles looking out into the gulf rubbing the Florida coast line. I walked over to them, and opened the door- letting the sweet, peaceful sounds of the ocean enter the room.
Boo absolutely could not stand the fact that I smoked cigarettes. When I was with her, it was usually incredibly easy to pass up the urge for a nicotine fix, yet first thing in the morning it was often a temptation that I would let myself indulge. Remember like I said, Boo wasn’t the friendliest person in the hours of the A.M., so I usually saw it as my ‘Get-out-of-jail-free” card time.
I lit up the square, raised up into a bar-stool type chair and put my feet on the rail of the balcony. She came from inside and placed a cup of coffee, made just the way I took it, on the table to my left. She leaned slightly into the balcony and looked out into the sea. Seeing her in the foreground of the picture I was already taking in my mind, made it all the more inspiring. She raised the mug to her lips, and I watched as she closed her eyes taking a sip.
She made a snappy comment about how trashy smoking was, in a completely light hearted tone, then we began to talk about what all we were going to do that day. The afternoon had been booked for us the second we arrived there. We were going to spend that day as we did the one before and would the day after, with towels spread out on the beach, drinking casually and every half hour or so heading down into the water. That evening would be different though. We had been trying to find different things to do in a town over-run by people daunting the average age of deceased.
Whenever I was with Boo, I always felt like I was connected to her. It was a feeling that I had yet to come across with anyone else I had ever known. When people were talking to us, its like I could read her mind on what she was really thinking about the words that were coming from their mouths. Whenever I would reach to touch her hand, I would usually end up meeting hers in the middle of my reach because her hand was looking for me at the same time.
As Boo walked in front of me towards the beach, I watched her shape move. Boo moved like a song. She had a different kind of sex appeal for me. You see, with Boo I could go on for days about all of the ways that she was physically appealing- but it really didn’t have much of anything to do with what I was drawn to. There was just this connection with her, that I really never even could lay a finger on. I felt like there was something inside of us that synched up. The way that we would do everything, it felt more like one person doing it rather than two.
We spent a great deal of time that afternoon walking all over the shore. We had an interesting way of talking about absolutely nothing and everything at the exact same time. Our conversations were never dull, and would undoubtedly end in one of laughing until the muscles in our stomach cramped. As we talked, we walked down towards a clear spot where the water and sand were saying hello’s and good-bye’s and sat down beside eachother.
She leaned her head into my shoulder, and we both took a deep breath at the same time. I mean DAMN, we were so connected, we even pulled from the air with our lungs in rhythm. As we sat, the water would rush under us both coming and going. With each passing turn, I felt myself sink further into the sand, and within seconds both sets of our feet had been completely buried. Today was perfect.
I wanted dinner to be special that evening. I had read about a place on the very far side of town, that was supposed to be one of the top restaurants in all of Florida. We got ready independently of each other, to make it even more date-like. When she finally came from the bedroom door, she was wearing a red cotton dress, that had white polka dots. The dress conformed to her shape as if it was another layer of skin. She had a huge smile on her face as she walked towards me, I met her in the middle of the walkway and we exchanged a kiss.
The restaurant was simply divine. She ordered a rack of lamb, and I had a rib-eye steak. The meat seemed to melt in my mouth, and the wine sang a perfect harmony with its robust flavor. I looked across the table at her, staring at her smooth green eyes that were decorated with tiny brown spots, and a question ran through my mind. “Was this the best steak I had ever tasted?”
We paid our waiter, who I might should add gave us the best service I had ever received at a restaurant anywhere in my life, and made our way back to the car. We headed back in town to a bar, to catch the tail end of the Warriors-Jazz playoff game, and to have a night cap before returning to the place where we were staying.
We sat at the bar, and tried a couple of different beverages that the bar tender was serving up. Rum was a really big deal in Florida, so I found that most every concoction that he was shaking and stirring was heavy dosed with the Puerto-Rican import. Boo’s laugh would make me light up like a nebula. Her laugh was drenched in such a pure enjoyment of the moment, it was no wonder that it attracted a person that was sitting down from us to come see what all of our fuss was about.
He came up to us, and turned to me first and informed me that I was in the company of the most beautiful girl in the bar. I quickly combated this with “try in the state”, which got both of Boo’s eyes rolling, yet lit up that smile at the same time. The gentleman looked exactly, and I mean to the ‘T’, like Michael Douglas the actor.
His voice was just as raspy, his hair just as grey and poofy; it was surreal. He talked to us about his experiences with women and romance for a good twenty minutes. As his sentences would finish, the two of us would both exchange glances confirming to the other just how much amusement we were receiving from this former stoner’s interesting ways of trying to impress us. By us, I probably mean her, but he was definitely including me as much as he could, in some kind of strange attempt to keep me from becoming somewhat of an aggressor towards him.
Most of what he told us was quite forgetful, but even like mid 90’s disaster movies, he had his memorable moment. He grabbed my hand and gave me a joint, and then gave us an extraordinary suggestion.
“You kids are young, and you don’t realize how unimportant your current job is. You two should just take off from here and drive down to the Keys, and get lost for a while. I promise you that you will not regret anything but not doing it man.”
I laughed it off. What a ridiculous comment. We were both nearing the tapping of our vacations budget, and we had responsibilities back in Texas. We had to get back to work and home, we had things to take care of. Going to the Florida Keys for an undetermined amount of time would be just ridiculous. He kept on trying to persuade us though. It was strange at the time, but maybe he was seeing something that neither of us could.
“We both had pains, we both had eyes, but neither of us can see.” Why is Brandon Boyd always right?
When we got back to our temporary residence, we went out to the beach, and took a night time stroll. She held on to my arm with both of her hands, and we stepped through the sand for several hundred yards before I finally stopped her.
“Boo, I don’t want to ever forget this. I don’t ever want you to forget this either. This moment. The way that the sky was clear, and the moon was half-full. The way the lights look in these buildings, how cool the sand feels on our bare feet, how there isn’t much of a breeze at all, the smell of the ocean, hell- even the large boat that’s moving right down there. Boo, promise me that you will never forget this feeling, because I know I never will.”
It was dark, but the various light sources lit her face up enough for me to see her smile and exude a peaceful joy. We didn’t say anything for a few seconds, just stared into each others eyes. It was too dark to see her jade lenses, but it was bright enough to see into her soul. She was happy with me there, she loved me right then, even if it only was for that moment.
Words can often mess a lot of things up, get twisted or exaggerate emotions to where they almost become tainted, but eyes are honest. Right there on that beach in that minute, our eyes were telling the other things that words would never be able to convey. We kissed as deep as the ocean’s depths, and I felt the connection stronger than I ever had before. She tilted her head to left and I tilted mine in response, and as I opened my mouth I felt her soft tongue lightly massage mine. I loved the things her tongue would say to me when we kissed.
In my life, I have never had love like I did that evening. I laid beside her in complete tranquility, we felt like one. This connection seemed to be as real as the rain and the earth. It seemed to be as sure as the sun rising and falling. It was the first time I could remember in my life really believing in something as strongly as I did. I had faith that she was supposed to be in my life, and I in hers. No one knew this connection.
If I would have known this faith I had to be blind and misleading, I probably wouldn’t have let myself fall asleep that evening. I had no idea about the future though, only that moment. I relaxed my muscles and closed my eyes. We both sighed simultaneously. Our breathing was still in sync.
She hated being snuggled in the mornings. I mean, hated it. She was not a morning person what so ever. At least, not with me she wasn't. I always had a good fifteen minutes of bare holding her though before she would wake up enough to realize that she hated that she had woken up.
I think a large part of this was due to the fact that both of us were literally furnaces when we slept. As much as I wanted to spoon her for every second I was in bed with her, I never could because we would both end up sweating like we just finished running a marathon. I took in a deep breath and inhaled her natural scent. Boo's smell, even without perfume, was something that I never will be able to forget. It would tickle my nose hairs and cause a pulsation throughout my nervous system and make me shake like I was standing outside amid freezing temperatures in only shorts and a tee-shirt.
The bed we were sleeping in was enormous, a California King I do believe is what they would call this mattress size, but we still managed to only use as much as we would have in a twin. Even though we wouldn't always cuddle, we always had some piece of both of us touching each other, letting each other know that the other was there. It was a form of connecting, which was a word that better described what we had than any other one that I have ever been able to come across.
I wanted to wake up and begin the day, but I didn't want to leave where I was. Every second I spent with this girl, I cherished as if it was the very last. When I was with her, I wanted to make sure that there wasn't anything left to do, because it all felt so right. Today was going to be incredible. I knew this not only because I was waking up naked with this amazing girl, but also because we were in Florida.
The weather the previous day had been nothing short of spellbinding. Skies so clear, that you couldn't see a cloud anywhere in them. The water was a luscious green, and the sands were pearly white. If romance had a place to call home, this had to be it. She began to toss a little, and I could tell that she was about to wake up, and shift away from me like she always did.
Sometimes though, people surprise you. Maybe it was because of where we were, or maybe it was something in her at that second, but she rolled over and put her arm across my chest and raised her leg over my thigh. She let out a raspy 'good morning' and I felt more at home than I had in years. My desire to do anything else left me stranded in that room, and I fell back asleep.
I don't know how much time had passed, but I felt her get out of the bed, and heard the snapping sound of spandex as she raised her panties over her unmentionables. I opened my eyes and watched her thin-yet curvey frame disappear through the bathroom doorway, and I stretched a bit and got out of bed myself.
I found my trusty white basketball shorts on the floor beside the bed, and put them on and made my way in to brush my teeth and see what she was up to. Her tooth brush weighed heavily on the right side of her mouth, while she made intense brush strokes on the sides bottom row of teeth. She leaned of the sink and looked deeply into the mirror with a pointless gaze, then took her left hand and slid the travel sized tooth paste in my direction.
The way that she would behave in the mornings was comical to say the least. Like I said earlier, she was never the warmest person; but was usually the first to accuse of me being either ‘grumpy’, ‘cranky’, or ‘quiet’ in our first minutes of being awake. It was turning into somewhat of a little game we played, but this morning, there was not a tee time to be had. She spit the built up toothpaste foam from her mouth, and touched me on the arm as she exited the bathroom.
Boo was wonderful when it came to always having coffee made. No matter where we were; be it at work, my home, or anywhere else she would always have a fresh pot brewing by the time I would come join her in the kitchen. So, when I made my leave of the bedroom a few minutes later; it came to me as no great shock that the strong rich smell of a freshly brewing breakfast roast filled the room.
The place where we were staying, was right on the beach. The back wall of the living room had a series of three over-sized sliding doors, that’s glass served as spectacles looking out into the gulf rubbing the Florida coast line. I walked over to them, and opened the door- letting the sweet, peaceful sounds of the ocean enter the room.
Boo absolutely could not stand the fact that I smoked cigarettes. When I was with her, it was usually incredibly easy to pass up the urge for a nicotine fix, yet first thing in the morning it was often a temptation that I would let myself indulge. Remember like I said, Boo wasn’t the friendliest person in the hours of the A.M., so I usually saw it as my ‘Get-out-of-jail-free” card time.
I lit up the square, raised up into a bar-stool type chair and put my feet on the rail of the balcony. She came from inside and placed a cup of coffee, made just the way I took it, on the table to my left. She leaned slightly into the balcony and looked out into the sea. Seeing her in the foreground of the picture I was already taking in my mind, made it all the more inspiring. She raised the mug to her lips, and I watched as she closed her eyes taking a sip.
She made a snappy comment about how trashy smoking was, in a completely light hearted tone, then we began to talk about what all we were going to do that day. The afternoon had been booked for us the second we arrived there. We were going to spend that day as we did the one before and would the day after, with towels spread out on the beach, drinking casually and every half hour or so heading down into the water. That evening would be different though. We had been trying to find different things to do in a town over-run by people daunting the average age of deceased.
Whenever I was with Boo, I always felt like I was connected to her. It was a feeling that I had yet to come across with anyone else I had ever known. When people were talking to us, its like I could read her mind on what she was really thinking about the words that were coming from their mouths. Whenever I would reach to touch her hand, I would usually end up meeting hers in the middle of my reach because her hand was looking for me at the same time.
As Boo walked in front of me towards the beach, I watched her shape move. Boo moved like a song. She had a different kind of sex appeal for me. You see, with Boo I could go on for days about all of the ways that she was physically appealing- but it really didn’t have much of anything to do with what I was drawn to. There was just this connection with her, that I really never even could lay a finger on. I felt like there was something inside of us that synched up. The way that we would do everything, it felt more like one person doing it rather than two.
We spent a great deal of time that afternoon walking all over the shore. We had an interesting way of talking about absolutely nothing and everything at the exact same time. Our conversations were never dull, and would undoubtedly end in one of laughing until the muscles in our stomach cramped. As we talked, we walked down towards a clear spot where the water and sand were saying hello’s and good-bye’s and sat down beside eachother.
She leaned her head into my shoulder, and we both took a deep breath at the same time. I mean DAMN, we were so connected, we even pulled from the air with our lungs in rhythm. As we sat, the water would rush under us both coming and going. With each passing turn, I felt myself sink further into the sand, and within seconds both sets of our feet had been completely buried. Today was perfect.
I wanted dinner to be special that evening. I had read about a place on the very far side of town, that was supposed to be one of the top restaurants in all of Florida. We got ready independently of each other, to make it even more date-like. When she finally came from the bedroom door, she was wearing a red cotton dress, that had white polka dots. The dress conformed to her shape as if it was another layer of skin. She had a huge smile on her face as she walked towards me, I met her in the middle of the walkway and we exchanged a kiss.
The restaurant was simply divine. She ordered a rack of lamb, and I had a rib-eye steak. The meat seemed to melt in my mouth, and the wine sang a perfect harmony with its robust flavor. I looked across the table at her, staring at her smooth green eyes that were decorated with tiny brown spots, and a question ran through my mind. “Was this the best steak I had ever tasted?”
We paid our waiter, who I might should add gave us the best service I had ever received at a restaurant anywhere in my life, and made our way back to the car. We headed back in town to a bar, to catch the tail end of the Warriors-Jazz playoff game, and to have a night cap before returning to the place where we were staying.
We sat at the bar, and tried a couple of different beverages that the bar tender was serving up. Rum was a really big deal in Florida, so I found that most every concoction that he was shaking and stirring was heavy dosed with the Puerto-Rican import. Boo’s laugh would make me light up like a nebula. Her laugh was drenched in such a pure enjoyment of the moment, it was no wonder that it attracted a person that was sitting down from us to come see what all of our fuss was about.
He came up to us, and turned to me first and informed me that I was in the company of the most beautiful girl in the bar. I quickly combated this with “try in the state”, which got both of Boo’s eyes rolling, yet lit up that smile at the same time. The gentleman looked exactly, and I mean to the ‘T’, like Michael Douglas the actor.
His voice was just as raspy, his hair just as grey and poofy; it was surreal. He talked to us about his experiences with women and romance for a good twenty minutes. As his sentences would finish, the two of us would both exchange glances confirming to the other just how much amusement we were receiving from this former stoner’s interesting ways of trying to impress us. By us, I probably mean her, but he was definitely including me as much as he could, in some kind of strange attempt to keep me from becoming somewhat of an aggressor towards him.
Most of what he told us was quite forgetful, but even like mid 90’s disaster movies, he had his memorable moment. He grabbed my hand and gave me a joint, and then gave us an extraordinary suggestion.
“You kids are young, and you don’t realize how unimportant your current job is. You two should just take off from here and drive down to the Keys, and get lost for a while. I promise you that you will not regret anything but not doing it man.”
I laughed it off. What a ridiculous comment. We were both nearing the tapping of our vacations budget, and we had responsibilities back in Texas. We had to get back to work and home, we had things to take care of. Going to the Florida Keys for an undetermined amount of time would be just ridiculous. He kept on trying to persuade us though. It was strange at the time, but maybe he was seeing something that neither of us could.
“We both had pains, we both had eyes, but neither of us can see.” Why is Brandon Boyd always right?
When we got back to our temporary residence, we went out to the beach, and took a night time stroll. She held on to my arm with both of her hands, and we stepped through the sand for several hundred yards before I finally stopped her.
“Boo, I don’t want to ever forget this. I don’t ever want you to forget this either. This moment. The way that the sky was clear, and the moon was half-full. The way the lights look in these buildings, how cool the sand feels on our bare feet, how there isn’t much of a breeze at all, the smell of the ocean, hell- even the large boat that’s moving right down there. Boo, promise me that you will never forget this feeling, because I know I never will.”
It was dark, but the various light sources lit her face up enough for me to see her smile and exude a peaceful joy. We didn’t say anything for a few seconds, just stared into each others eyes. It was too dark to see her jade lenses, but it was bright enough to see into her soul. She was happy with me there, she loved me right then, even if it only was for that moment.
Words can often mess a lot of things up, get twisted or exaggerate emotions to where they almost become tainted, but eyes are honest. Right there on that beach in that minute, our eyes were telling the other things that words would never be able to convey. We kissed as deep as the ocean’s depths, and I felt the connection stronger than I ever had before. She tilted her head to left and I tilted mine in response, and as I opened my mouth I felt her soft tongue lightly massage mine. I loved the things her tongue would say to me when we kissed.
In my life, I have never had love like I did that evening. I laid beside her in complete tranquility, we felt like one. This connection seemed to be as real as the rain and the earth. It seemed to be as sure as the sun rising and falling. It was the first time I could remember in my life really believing in something as strongly as I did. I had faith that she was supposed to be in my life, and I in hers. No one knew this connection.
If I would have known this faith I had to be blind and misleading, I probably wouldn’t have let myself fall asleep that evening. I had no idea about the future though, only that moment. I relaxed my muscles and closed my eyes. We both sighed simultaneously. Our breathing was still in sync.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
counter
k...
i found a way to put a counter on here also... ill be curious to see how many people come
i found a way to put a counter on here also... ill be curious to see how many people come
excerpt from mi novella
When I came to, I was laying on my stomach on my bed, in my dark, dirty and dingy bedroom. I reached beside me, and grabbed my phone to take a quick observance of what hour of the day I was arising to. 4:57 pm. How had it gotten so late? What was going on? Then, I was reminded that I had worked the morning shift. This was just a nap I was rising from.
My phone had 2 missed calls and 2 text messages waiting for me. The lot of them were all from Girlfriend. The first text said “We need to talk” and the latter said simply “today”. An uneasy feeling overtook my stomach, and a dull throb began to flinch in my chest. I didn’t need any hints or clues to realize what was going to happen the second I walked across the lot and to her apartment. I had known that this afternoon and this conversation were looming over my head like the Grim Reaper in an Intensive Care Unit for quite some time. Maybe, even since the entire relationship had begun.
I debated on texting, calling, or just walking over for several minutes. I partnered my debate with my wretched smoking habit outside on my patio. With each drag I took in, I realized that my last breath while being in her life was nearing. I held in my hand a black frame that housed a picture of the two of us during happy times. Both our smiles were so genuine, both smiles as wide as an ocean basin, both faces lit up like the sky on the 4th of July.
“How was I am going to do this without her?” a faint voice said in the back of my head. The sky was completely décored in clouds as gray as the hair of an elder deacon in a southern Baptist church. I wanted to listen to music, but knew there was not a song in the world that I wanted to pair with the piece of life I was about to take a bite out of. I knew that this day would live in infamy for me, I knew the upcoming hour would make the grey sky look as bright as supernova exploding through a pinhole sky. I wanted no song to carry this, I wanted this memory to be held in silence.
I didn’t call or text, instead just walked to her apartment. When I arrived at her door, I stood outside of it for at least five minutes. I wanted to keep myself as composed as possible, because I didn’t want to come off looking weak to her. Not at first anyway. I wanted to walk in confident and sure. I wanted to channel dam-like strength in my eyes, to keep my cheekbones from becoming a spillway.
I didn’t knock, instead just let myself in, and I heard her voice call from the back bedroom. She was sitting at her computer desk, and her face was painted by the brush of apathy. Her eyes lazily glazed over me, and she let out a casual “hey” in my direction. The very informal nature of her greeting was like a knife into my heart. Her mind was already made up. The judge and jury had already reached a verdict and no matter how incredible my opening statement or fillabuster would be- it didn’t matter.
I think this certainty became more granite in my mind as the silence between the two of us began to fill the room. I sat on the floor beside her desk chair, and laid my head in her lap. She didn’t resist or attempt to move it. She just let me rest my head there. A tear began to swell in my right eye, and I felt a hole break through my damn. It ran onto her leg, but fortunately she was wearing jeans and could not possibly feel my drop of pain through her denim shield.
She ran her hand across my head, and patted it in a soothing manner, but as comforting as she wanted to make it- the emotion that I wanted to feel was no longer coming out of her fingertips. It was a much friendlier sensation, her heals were no longer anywhere close to her head.
I felt that ache in my chest begin to swell from its original size. It began to grow exponentially with each passing moment. I have long heard that right before you die, you see your entire life flash before your eyes. In those moments, as my chest hurt worse, and my stomach clinched tighter- I saw every minute that I had ever spent with her rush through my head. Everything from singing Jo-Jo to her in the car, to our nights in Dallas. I was reliving fights, love making, valentine’s, new year’s, birthday’s, crush events, movies we had seen, and tears I had made her cry all at the same time. The pool of emotion I was swimming in was so deep, that I could not see the bottom.
She didn’t rush our conversation. She just let the moment develop as naturally as a child in womb. My memories were serving as a placenta and my nervous system as an umbilical cord to what was becoming an inevitable break down. I couldn’t decide how I was feeling.
Our relationship had been far from happy for at least a month. All of the rich flavor that we both used to taste from eachother had been replaced by a bitter array of sensations that rivaled a beer that had been left out in the sun for four or five hours. I had seen her heart lose all hope she had for me and us over the past four weeks. I hadn’t even made an attempt to cease that in her. I couldn’t. I was completely defeated in my own self.
I continued to sit there, with my head in her lap, but enough time had passed where she felt it time to begin the ending process. Her voice was sharp and pointed, and had the force of a sharp pair of shears cutting away at what few weak strands of strength I was holding onto.
“Why had I not just loved her? Why had I not once in 2 months shown her what she meant to me? How did I get so wrapped up in my depression?” The thoughts were flying through my head at a rapid enough pace that a sub-machine gun may as well have been firing them off. I listened as she explained how miserable she was, and I couldn’t help but begin a deep self-loathing for knowing I had been the cause of it.
“Does misery love company, or is misery the company of love?” this became the next starting point for the thoughts that would run through my head. “Will it always be this way? Were we just not right for each other? Was I just too self-absorbed? Did I really love her, or was this like an addiction? If I loved her, wouldn’t I not have put myself in a position to ever lose her? Did I not know how to love someone? Was it this? Was it something else? Will this make me happier? Will I get through this?” The thoughts got increasingly louder with each passing interrogative phrase. I sat back on my haunch, then laid face down on the floor beside her chair.
She continued on with her explanation of why things were happening like they were, but she didn’t have to tell me any of this. I knew what it was. She might as well have been reciting to me basic multiplication tables or directions to my parents house. I had spent the previous six weeks writing the script to what she was saying.
I laid there, face down on her floor. Two silver dollar sized spots began to show on her carpet, from the salty liquid that was pouring from my eyes. I just stayed there. I didn’t want her to know that she was capable of affecting me like that. I had not shown her through the relationship, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let this be the first time for that.
Even though I knew every drop of reasoning she had, with the more upset I got, the more my defense mechanisms began to kick in. I began to stop the crying by building up an accusational attack on Girlfriend. I dried my eyes off, raised off the ground, and for the first time since my arrival I began to speak.
“How could you do this to me? You know that I need you. You know that you are the reason I made it through school. I’m not capable of this with out you. You KNOW that. You know I will collapse! How can you let someone you ‘love’ go like that? You are abandoning me! That’s it! You are completely leaving me! Just like Mama. The exact same thing…” I kept on going for minutes, and as each phrase was finished, a new loaded one entered the chamber…”You aren’t even upset about this are you? You don’t care at ALL! You are heartless! Who are you? Who have I spent the last year of my life with?”
Its amazing how mean someone can become. Its amazing how quickly I transformed into such a ghastly creature. It wasn’t that I blamed her though. It was because I was hurt that she seemed so ambivalent about the entire situation. She was supposed to care. She had always cared.
I guess the interesting thing about caring though, is if you don’t feed and nurture the source of the caring, it will eventually die of famine. That is what had happened here. It had starved and become too parched to have any trace of hyrdration left in it. Rain can not fall from a sky that has no water. The reality came crashing back down on me again, and I bit my tongue and apologized.
I didn’t ask for her to take me back. I just told her how sorry I was for what I had just said. She told me she understood why I had said what I had, because she knew that she hurt me.
Oh my silly girlfriend. You didn’t hurt me. You never could have hurt me. You were to kind and generous to be able to manufacture pain in another. I had just cut you so deep, that the blade finally pierced me too. I’m so sorry Girlfriend, because I am the guilty party. I pulled the trigger that fired the bullet that killed us both.
I gave her a hug, and asked her if she wanted to smoke one last cigarette with me. We walked out on the back patio, and with each inhale, I now realized that I was free and had freed her from all of the pain that I had caused her. I still was in great pain, but it started to become even more evident that she was not the cause of it. It was my opinion of myself. None of anything that just happened, had anything to do with the way I felt about Girlfriend. Not a word that I said, not a thought that I had. It was all about me.
I still had no idea what I wanted to do. She knew exactly what she wanted, and even three days prior she was giving me the option of looking for places to live with her. When she was offering, I knew it never would happen, and I knew that it couldn’t, because if I really did love this girl- I couldn’t let her be with me at that point.
Yet, as I have said before, I couldn’t let myself leave her. I loved her too much, and loved being around her…even if she never knew it. I remember hearing my mother tell me once, that you never can love someone if you do not love yourself. That statement is false when translated the way that its constructed. The truth is buried further underneath the surface of those nouns and verbs.
Its not that you can’t love someone. Its that you can’t ever show it to them. When you dislike who you are, you can try your hardest to hide it as long as you can. You can wear a costume of confidence and happiness, but your true uniform is always right underneath it, like Superman’s suit. Just like the Man of Steel, if you look hard enough- its not too tough to see that the whole Clark Kent thing is just a charade.
Girlfriend never saw that I loved her, or how I loved her, because Girlfriend only saw the contempt I held for myself.
I finished my smoke at the same time she was taking the last pull off of her own. She put hers out in a wine bottle that was full to the mouth of ashed cigs, and I flicked mine across the yard into the dirt. I walked into her apartment and looked at her one last time.
“I really am sorry”
“I know” she responded.
I gave her a hug, then walked out the door. I made my way back across the parking lot and up the stairs to my apartment. I went back to my dingy bedroom, and buried my face in the pillow. The silver-dollar shaped puddles now appeared on my pillow. I closed my eyes in attempt to rebuild my dam once more. Sleep was still miles away.
My phone had 2 missed calls and 2 text messages waiting for me. The lot of them were all from Girlfriend. The first text said “We need to talk” and the latter said simply “today”. An uneasy feeling overtook my stomach, and a dull throb began to flinch in my chest. I didn’t need any hints or clues to realize what was going to happen the second I walked across the lot and to her apartment. I had known that this afternoon and this conversation were looming over my head like the Grim Reaper in an Intensive Care Unit for quite some time. Maybe, even since the entire relationship had begun.
I debated on texting, calling, or just walking over for several minutes. I partnered my debate with my wretched smoking habit outside on my patio. With each drag I took in, I realized that my last breath while being in her life was nearing. I held in my hand a black frame that housed a picture of the two of us during happy times. Both our smiles were so genuine, both smiles as wide as an ocean basin, both faces lit up like the sky on the 4th of July.
“How was I am going to do this without her?” a faint voice said in the back of my head. The sky was completely décored in clouds as gray as the hair of an elder deacon in a southern Baptist church. I wanted to listen to music, but knew there was not a song in the world that I wanted to pair with the piece of life I was about to take a bite out of. I knew that this day would live in infamy for me, I knew the upcoming hour would make the grey sky look as bright as supernova exploding through a pinhole sky. I wanted no song to carry this, I wanted this memory to be held in silence.
I didn’t call or text, instead just walked to her apartment. When I arrived at her door, I stood outside of it for at least five minutes. I wanted to keep myself as composed as possible, because I didn’t want to come off looking weak to her. Not at first anyway. I wanted to walk in confident and sure. I wanted to channel dam-like strength in my eyes, to keep my cheekbones from becoming a spillway.
I didn’t knock, instead just let myself in, and I heard her voice call from the back bedroom. She was sitting at her computer desk, and her face was painted by the brush of apathy. Her eyes lazily glazed over me, and she let out a casual “hey” in my direction. The very informal nature of her greeting was like a knife into my heart. Her mind was already made up. The judge and jury had already reached a verdict and no matter how incredible my opening statement or fillabuster would be- it didn’t matter.
I think this certainty became more granite in my mind as the silence between the two of us began to fill the room. I sat on the floor beside her desk chair, and laid my head in her lap. She didn’t resist or attempt to move it. She just let me rest my head there. A tear began to swell in my right eye, and I felt a hole break through my damn. It ran onto her leg, but fortunately she was wearing jeans and could not possibly feel my drop of pain through her denim shield.
She ran her hand across my head, and patted it in a soothing manner, but as comforting as she wanted to make it- the emotion that I wanted to feel was no longer coming out of her fingertips. It was a much friendlier sensation, her heals were no longer anywhere close to her head.
I felt that ache in my chest begin to swell from its original size. It began to grow exponentially with each passing moment. I have long heard that right before you die, you see your entire life flash before your eyes. In those moments, as my chest hurt worse, and my stomach clinched tighter- I saw every minute that I had ever spent with her rush through my head. Everything from singing Jo-Jo to her in the car, to our nights in Dallas. I was reliving fights, love making, valentine’s, new year’s, birthday’s, crush events, movies we had seen, and tears I had made her cry all at the same time. The pool of emotion I was swimming in was so deep, that I could not see the bottom.
She didn’t rush our conversation. She just let the moment develop as naturally as a child in womb. My memories were serving as a placenta and my nervous system as an umbilical cord to what was becoming an inevitable break down. I couldn’t decide how I was feeling.
Our relationship had been far from happy for at least a month. All of the rich flavor that we both used to taste from eachother had been replaced by a bitter array of sensations that rivaled a beer that had been left out in the sun for four or five hours. I had seen her heart lose all hope she had for me and us over the past four weeks. I hadn’t even made an attempt to cease that in her. I couldn’t. I was completely defeated in my own self.
I continued to sit there, with my head in her lap, but enough time had passed where she felt it time to begin the ending process. Her voice was sharp and pointed, and had the force of a sharp pair of shears cutting away at what few weak strands of strength I was holding onto.
“Why had I not just loved her? Why had I not once in 2 months shown her what she meant to me? How did I get so wrapped up in my depression?” The thoughts were flying through my head at a rapid enough pace that a sub-machine gun may as well have been firing them off. I listened as she explained how miserable she was, and I couldn’t help but begin a deep self-loathing for knowing I had been the cause of it.
“Does misery love company, or is misery the company of love?” this became the next starting point for the thoughts that would run through my head. “Will it always be this way? Were we just not right for each other? Was I just too self-absorbed? Did I really love her, or was this like an addiction? If I loved her, wouldn’t I not have put myself in a position to ever lose her? Did I not know how to love someone? Was it this? Was it something else? Will this make me happier? Will I get through this?” The thoughts got increasingly louder with each passing interrogative phrase. I sat back on my haunch, then laid face down on the floor beside her chair.
She continued on with her explanation of why things were happening like they were, but she didn’t have to tell me any of this. I knew what it was. She might as well have been reciting to me basic multiplication tables or directions to my parents house. I had spent the previous six weeks writing the script to what she was saying.
I laid there, face down on her floor. Two silver dollar sized spots began to show on her carpet, from the salty liquid that was pouring from my eyes. I just stayed there. I didn’t want her to know that she was capable of affecting me like that. I had not shown her through the relationship, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let this be the first time for that.
Even though I knew every drop of reasoning she had, with the more upset I got, the more my defense mechanisms began to kick in. I began to stop the crying by building up an accusational attack on Girlfriend. I dried my eyes off, raised off the ground, and for the first time since my arrival I began to speak.
“How could you do this to me? You know that I need you. You know that you are the reason I made it through school. I’m not capable of this with out you. You KNOW that. You know I will collapse! How can you let someone you ‘love’ go like that? You are abandoning me! That’s it! You are completely leaving me! Just like Mama. The exact same thing…” I kept on going for minutes, and as each phrase was finished, a new loaded one entered the chamber…”You aren’t even upset about this are you? You don’t care at ALL! You are heartless! Who are you? Who have I spent the last year of my life with?”
Its amazing how mean someone can become. Its amazing how quickly I transformed into such a ghastly creature. It wasn’t that I blamed her though. It was because I was hurt that she seemed so ambivalent about the entire situation. She was supposed to care. She had always cared.
I guess the interesting thing about caring though, is if you don’t feed and nurture the source of the caring, it will eventually die of famine. That is what had happened here. It had starved and become too parched to have any trace of hyrdration left in it. Rain can not fall from a sky that has no water. The reality came crashing back down on me again, and I bit my tongue and apologized.
I didn’t ask for her to take me back. I just told her how sorry I was for what I had just said. She told me she understood why I had said what I had, because she knew that she hurt me.
Oh my silly girlfriend. You didn’t hurt me. You never could have hurt me. You were to kind and generous to be able to manufacture pain in another. I had just cut you so deep, that the blade finally pierced me too. I’m so sorry Girlfriend, because I am the guilty party. I pulled the trigger that fired the bullet that killed us both.
I gave her a hug, and asked her if she wanted to smoke one last cigarette with me. We walked out on the back patio, and with each inhale, I now realized that I was free and had freed her from all of the pain that I had caused her. I still was in great pain, but it started to become even more evident that she was not the cause of it. It was my opinion of myself. None of anything that just happened, had anything to do with the way I felt about Girlfriend. Not a word that I said, not a thought that I had. It was all about me.
I still had no idea what I wanted to do. She knew exactly what she wanted, and even three days prior she was giving me the option of looking for places to live with her. When she was offering, I knew it never would happen, and I knew that it couldn’t, because if I really did love this girl- I couldn’t let her be with me at that point.
Yet, as I have said before, I couldn’t let myself leave her. I loved her too much, and loved being around her…even if she never knew it. I remember hearing my mother tell me once, that you never can love someone if you do not love yourself. That statement is false when translated the way that its constructed. The truth is buried further underneath the surface of those nouns and verbs.
Its not that you can’t love someone. Its that you can’t ever show it to them. When you dislike who you are, you can try your hardest to hide it as long as you can. You can wear a costume of confidence and happiness, but your true uniform is always right underneath it, like Superman’s suit. Just like the Man of Steel, if you look hard enough- its not too tough to see that the whole Clark Kent thing is just a charade.
Girlfriend never saw that I loved her, or how I loved her, because Girlfriend only saw the contempt I held for myself.
I finished my smoke at the same time she was taking the last pull off of her own. She put hers out in a wine bottle that was full to the mouth of ashed cigs, and I flicked mine across the yard into the dirt. I walked into her apartment and looked at her one last time.
“I really am sorry”
“I know” she responded.
I gave her a hug, then walked out the door. I made my way back across the parking lot and up the stairs to my apartment. I went back to my dingy bedroom, and buried my face in the pillow. The silver-dollar shaped puddles now appeared on my pillow. I closed my eyes in attempt to rebuild my dam once more. Sleep was still miles away.
Monday, May 12, 2008
The Definition Of A Cougar
I would like to start off by saying hello to my readers at MTV.... who knew?
So, today I would like to tackle an interesting subject to say the least. It really wasn't that long ago, when my friend The Seede, dropped the term "Coug" into a casual conversation on a porch of mine and I had no idea what he was talking about.
Really though, why would I? I pretty much had been in back to back relationships the previous two years; and surrounded by nothing but college girls )and my friends and I going after the college girls) the entire time preceding those failed endeavors, not hanging out in bars that were laden with women over the age of 30... but I digress. What IS a Cougar?
When I asked the people gathered round me that day on my porch, I was answered with a slue of laughter that I can only describe as being matched by the time I asked my friend Seth in 5th grade what "popping her cherry" meant. Color me naive once again. When the laughter died, they described a "Coug" to me as:
(i'll direct quote the best I can from memory)
"You dumb sonofabitch. A COUG is a 30+ year old woman who hasn't been married who is really fuckin hot, who doesn't have children, and who is all about Guys fresh out of college... like us!"
(I'm not 1000% certain, but I am pretty sure this was followed by ridiculous boasts made by all parties on how they were exactly right for potential prey)
Shortly there after, I moved to Austin, and have had the opportunity to work with several women in their 30's and 40's (some of who are ridiculously attractive) who do indeed love to exchange flirty banter with other young men, as well as myself. Some of these women have been married before, most all of them drive nice cars and are financially stable, all have great senses of humor and still party like its their 21st birthday.... hmmmm... we may have found our definition... but, it brings up an interesting question.... WHY?!?!?
These women that I am talking about don't seem to play games, and also do not seem to want a relationship from these guys. They are straight forward pretty much. THEY will buy your drinks, THEY will get you drunk, THEY will take you home and THEY will make all the moves... this sounds awfully familiar...
I have often talked about how relationships affect people in my other forms of bloggish mediums, and how cyclical it all is. There is not a "soul mate" for you per say, but there are people that you click with much better than others. There are also 2 types of relationships when you boil down to it.
A) The one that you are the giver
B) The one that you are the taker
If you were the giver, and it ended leaving you single, you are more than likely still hurt and bitter about it. Its going to cause you to be quite resentful of that person, and project whatever hangups you have about that onto the next one that comes along... hence, YOU become the taker
If you were the taker, then when its over you might be hit with a massive sense of remorse, or MAYBE you just happen into a relationship that you over amplify the new person in to incredible heights (they will never be able to live up to) and hit them with a flood of pinned up emotions and YOU become the giver.
Now, if the person on the other side is on the inverse side of the cycle, its going to work for a while, but ultimately end in disaster and a reversing of the roles again in the future. This perpetual cycle will continue until you finally meet someone riding the same wave as you...
Its bullshit, when someone tells you that you can't change someone, because you can.. you just have to remember, "A watched pot never boils"
So lets tie this into our inquisition... A "Cougar" may really be someone who has been burned by men so many times, it has caused her to develop an unhealthy obsessive fixation on them, and in the process has adopted the characteristics and qualities of the people that set her heart to blaze. Young men are easy prey, because they generally are easily seduced by snatch an hooch and after the "Cougar" has devoured their target sexually to her liking, she moves on... and if he calls and wants more and she turns him down, its like a little moral victory for her.
Basically, she gets to play Miss Havisham and Estella all at the same time.
So, today I would like to tackle an interesting subject to say the least. It really wasn't that long ago, when my friend The Seede, dropped the term "Coug" into a casual conversation on a porch of mine and I had no idea what he was talking about.
Really though, why would I? I pretty much had been in back to back relationships the previous two years; and surrounded by nothing but college girls )and my friends and I going after the college girls) the entire time preceding those failed endeavors, not hanging out in bars that were laden with women over the age of 30... but I digress. What IS a Cougar?
When I asked the people gathered round me that day on my porch, I was answered with a slue of laughter that I can only describe as being matched by the time I asked my friend Seth in 5th grade what "popping her cherry" meant. Color me naive once again. When the laughter died, they described a "Coug" to me as:
(i'll direct quote the best I can from memory)
"You dumb sonofabitch. A COUG is a 30+ year old woman who hasn't been married who is really fuckin hot, who doesn't have children, and who is all about Guys fresh out of college... like us!"
(I'm not 1000% certain, but I am pretty sure this was followed by ridiculous boasts made by all parties on how they were exactly right for potential prey)
Shortly there after, I moved to Austin, and have had the opportunity to work with several women in their 30's and 40's (some of who are ridiculously attractive) who do indeed love to exchange flirty banter with other young men, as well as myself. Some of these women have been married before, most all of them drive nice cars and are financially stable, all have great senses of humor and still party like its their 21st birthday.... hmmmm... we may have found our definition... but, it brings up an interesting question.... WHY?!?!?
These women that I am talking about don't seem to play games, and also do not seem to want a relationship from these guys. They are straight forward pretty much. THEY will buy your drinks, THEY will get you drunk, THEY will take you home and THEY will make all the moves... this sounds awfully familiar...
I have often talked about how relationships affect people in my other forms of bloggish mediums, and how cyclical it all is. There is not a "soul mate" for you per say, but there are people that you click with much better than others. There are also 2 types of relationships when you boil down to it.
A) The one that you are the giver
B) The one that you are the taker
If you were the giver, and it ended leaving you single, you are more than likely still hurt and bitter about it. Its going to cause you to be quite resentful of that person, and project whatever hangups you have about that onto the next one that comes along... hence, YOU become the taker
If you were the taker, then when its over you might be hit with a massive sense of remorse, or MAYBE you just happen into a relationship that you over amplify the new person in to incredible heights (they will never be able to live up to) and hit them with a flood of pinned up emotions and YOU become the giver.
Now, if the person on the other side is on the inverse side of the cycle, its going to work for a while, but ultimately end in disaster and a reversing of the roles again in the future. This perpetual cycle will continue until you finally meet someone riding the same wave as you...
Its bullshit, when someone tells you that you can't change someone, because you can.. you just have to remember, "A watched pot never boils"
So lets tie this into our inquisition... A "Cougar" may really be someone who has been burned by men so many times, it has caused her to develop an unhealthy obsessive fixation on them, and in the process has adopted the characteristics and qualities of the people that set her heart to blaze. Young men are easy prey, because they generally are easily seduced by snatch an hooch and after the "Cougar" has devoured their target sexually to her liking, she moves on... and if he calls and wants more and she turns him down, its like a little moral victory for her.
Basically, she gets to play Miss Havisham and Estella all at the same time.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
1
Ah yes... I have found a new place to lament. I suppose this is much healthier than doing such with ex girlfriends via text circa two after bouncing from some watering hole following a myriad of jager and rumple shots, so cheers to that.
As I cheers to you, I sip this cheap scotch that Cameron, the manager of the Twin Liquors so very much with in walking distance of my apartment, was nice enough to actually give me for free about a week ago. I have found that questioning the quality of ones product, often leads to some sort of trial of the aforementioned piece of merchandise. (Sams caught on to this real early on, and also found a place to stick the people joining their staff via the nursing home exchange program)
How is the scotch?
It kind of tastes like milk. I didn't even know that was possible.
I encountered something remarkable last night whilst waiting tables. I went to deliver a fresh glass of some Super Tuscan to a patron sitting on this restaurants patio, and as I bent down I caught a whiff of her (female obviously--- and drinking something bold like a Super Tuscan...top drawer coug, top drawer) perfume. Now, I have heard before that above any other sense, scent is more in cahoots with your memory than any other, and last night whatever doubts I may have had to that statement had I actually took the time to dream up a rebuttal, were laid to rest.
This lady was wearing the same perfume that my X-Fiance wore when we first started dating... the whole thing is though, the last time I probably had that smell run through my olfactory cavities was in the summer of 2004. I put the glass down, and stepped slightly back behind her, and let myself get another breath or two of it. This relationship was something that took me a very long time to get over, but there have been others to get over since her---so pining over this ex, or being emotional about her has been a non-event for quite some time; but this smell...
I was whisked away to our first kiss, the way she looked in a bathing suit, her laugh, watching Saved By The Bell for hours on end with her... every great memory was right there, and as I walked back through the kitchen, for the first time in years, I missed her. It was fleeting (the missing) but intense... time for a fresh glass of this milky scotch I believe.
As I cheers to you, I sip this cheap scotch that Cameron, the manager of the Twin Liquors so very much with in walking distance of my apartment, was nice enough to actually give me for free about a week ago. I have found that questioning the quality of ones product, often leads to some sort of trial of the aforementioned piece of merchandise. (Sams caught on to this real early on, and also found a place to stick the people joining their staff via the nursing home exchange program)
How is the scotch?
It kind of tastes like milk. I didn't even know that was possible.
I encountered something remarkable last night whilst waiting tables. I went to deliver a fresh glass of some Super Tuscan to a patron sitting on this restaurants patio, and as I bent down I caught a whiff of her (female obviously--- and drinking something bold like a Super Tuscan...top drawer coug, top drawer) perfume. Now, I have heard before that above any other sense, scent is more in cahoots with your memory than any other, and last night whatever doubts I may have had to that statement had I actually took the time to dream up a rebuttal, were laid to rest.
This lady was wearing the same perfume that my X-Fiance wore when we first started dating... the whole thing is though, the last time I probably had that smell run through my olfactory cavities was in the summer of 2004. I put the glass down, and stepped slightly back behind her, and let myself get another breath or two of it. This relationship was something that took me a very long time to get over, but there have been others to get over since her---so pining over this ex, or being emotional about her has been a non-event for quite some time; but this smell...
I was whisked away to our first kiss, the way she looked in a bathing suit, her laugh, watching Saved By The Bell for hours on end with her... every great memory was right there, and as I walked back through the kitchen, for the first time in years, I missed her. It was fleeting (the missing) but intense... time for a fresh glass of this milky scotch I believe.
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