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

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

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.

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.

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....

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.

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.

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.

counter

k...

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.

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.

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.