I have always been scared, yes, I can use the word scared, of getting old. Motor skills depleted, hearing loss, tons of medication needed to be taken. Not to mention the regret felt of no longer being able to do the things I wished I would have done years and years ago. You know, like now.
But the sight of seeing an old man or woman walking slowly through the isles of the grocery store, their cart barely filled with soft, somewhat edible foods. The glazed over look most likely due to cataracts instead of what I see as confusion clearly printed on their faces. I stare at these people as they hobble down the sidewalk trying to avoid pebbles along the way. My heart breaks as I see them just trying to go through life, but without the steam of a 25 year old, they no longer argue over the overpriced toilet paper and just let it slide. They count out their change at the register because every penny is a penny and not just a piece of copper that fills the bottom of your purse or gets stuck in the washing machine.
It breaks my heart-what little piece of black coal there is left of it, but it does break. It is the natural way of things, to get old and eventually die, this I know. The hard part is that when I see these people, not only does my heart go out to them, but I fear for what my life would be like when I reach that inevitable age. Right now at the ripe age of 28, I have been getting into good shape and becoming really healthy. Will this last and prolong my life so I can sustain a happier way of living in the years to come? I still dread the big 3-0. Life as I know it seems to end at that age. No more fun, going to bars just seems like a weird tactic to be young again. I read a Dear Abby about a 25 year old who still hung on to all her childhood favorites (toys, and television shows) but felt guilty about it because she knows she needs to grow up. Abby said it was fear of the unknown and the responsibility of becoming an adult that makes her regress. It's not responsibility for me, it's more of the fear of not being able to go out and have fun. Just throw caution to the wind and let my hair down.
Speaking of which, this weekend I would like to do that, but it just seems like a chore anymore to find somewhere that you can be able to do just that. Maybe it's not getting old that scares me, maybe it is just life...period. End of story.
This sucks.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Thursday, April 22, 2010
I don't speak dog
For as long as I remember, I have always wanted to learn to speak a second language. Mostly for the fun of it. The ability to just start talking in a different language among a group of people all speaking English is quite amusing. But that would mean I would have to know someone who spoke the same language in order to hold this conversation.
Yeah, it can be annoying and slightly embarrassing for all parties involved to walk into a restaurant, store or just down the street and people are talking in a different language in your home town. But the more I think about it, the more I really want to learn. Maybe just so I can listen in on conversations and then when they are finished talking, make a rude comment about how I can understand everything they are saying. Going on the fact they were talking shit about someone or even myself. And that's the biggest thing I hate, getting all paranoid that these people are talking about me for some reason. Then they will start going in and out of different languages messing everything up so you couldn't even follow the conversation if you tried.
But...at least they are speaking. Dogs don't talk, besides the annoying bark. Bark bark shut the fuck up bark. And the whining for no apparent reason at all. Then they look at you with their stupid bug eyes like you are supposed to understand them. No, no I have no idea what you want. Water? No. Food? No. Outside? No. Bed time? What the fuck? I don't know. I'm never owning my own animal nor will I have children. I do not have the patience for either-though they are pretty much the same. But I can admit that; and I'm good with knowing that.
I guess it would be cool if I did speak dog, then I could actually do something worth while with my life. Unfortunately it would require me to be around the dog though. I have come to realize that keeping animals in captivity (which is pretty much what pets are on a 'nicer' level)is not all it's cracked up to be. They are animals therefore they go outside. Why in God's name would you want to sleep in your nice clean bed with an animal that just shat in the grass in the back yard. The only 'wipe' he used was the same tongue that is now licking your freshly cleaned face. I don't get it. But then again, I have been told I have no heart. Maybe I should go to Oz and get myself one so I can go to the overcrowded pet store and pay an obscene amount of money for a cross-breed pa-doodle or whatever they are to take home and call my own. Yeah, so I can pull my hair out and my new carpeting because it now smells like pa-doodle puppy piss and all my new shoes are worthless. I guess it's my own fault, who would buy 6 pairs of brand new designer pumps knowing a puppy is in the house? I don't wear pumps, nor have I bought a new pair of shoes (besides running shoes) in a long, long time. But I also am not about to get myself a pa-doodle either.
Chew on that, Lassie (who by the way was a male dog, though portrayed as a female-Hollywood...)
Ciao!
Yeah, it can be annoying and slightly embarrassing for all parties involved to walk into a restaurant, store or just down the street and people are talking in a different language in your home town. But the more I think about it, the more I really want to learn. Maybe just so I can listen in on conversations and then when they are finished talking, make a rude comment about how I can understand everything they are saying. Going on the fact they were talking shit about someone or even myself. And that's the biggest thing I hate, getting all paranoid that these people are talking about me for some reason. Then they will start going in and out of different languages messing everything up so you couldn't even follow the conversation if you tried.
But...at least they are speaking. Dogs don't talk, besides the annoying bark. Bark bark shut the fuck up bark. And the whining for no apparent reason at all. Then they look at you with their stupid bug eyes like you are supposed to understand them. No, no I have no idea what you want. Water? No. Food? No. Outside? No. Bed time? What the fuck? I don't know. I'm never owning my own animal nor will I have children. I do not have the patience for either-though they are pretty much the same. But I can admit that; and I'm good with knowing that.
I guess it would be cool if I did speak dog, then I could actually do something worth while with my life. Unfortunately it would require me to be around the dog though. I have come to realize that keeping animals in captivity (which is pretty much what pets are on a 'nicer' level)is not all it's cracked up to be. They are animals therefore they go outside. Why in God's name would you want to sleep in your nice clean bed with an animal that just shat in the grass in the back yard. The only 'wipe' he used was the same tongue that is now licking your freshly cleaned face. I don't get it. But then again, I have been told I have no heart. Maybe I should go to Oz and get myself one so I can go to the overcrowded pet store and pay an obscene amount of money for a cross-breed pa-doodle or whatever they are to take home and call my own. Yeah, so I can pull my hair out and my new carpeting because it now smells like pa-doodle puppy piss and all my new shoes are worthless. I guess it's my own fault, who would buy 6 pairs of brand new designer pumps knowing a puppy is in the house? I don't wear pumps, nor have I bought a new pair of shoes (besides running shoes) in a long, long time. But I also am not about to get myself a pa-doodle either.
Chew on that, Lassie (who by the way was a male dog, though portrayed as a female-Hollywood...)
Ciao!
Saturday, April 17, 2010
The invention of lying
I haven't drank since Saturday. Oh wait, today is Saturday. Crap...Ok, so I went for a run this morning in the freezing weather. The Brecksville Fire Department was actually doing training in the park-Bonus! Plus, I saw one of the eagle's that nested in the park flying overhead with a fish in its claws. Totally Discovery channel shit, not even joking. Then I took the three hell hounds for a 30 minute walk, took a shower and had a Moslon XXX, then another. Then read the label that said 7.3% alcohol. No food but a packet of oatmeal at 7:30 this morning...and 2 7.3% alcoholic beverages? Yeah, somebody drank too much. Made myself a frozen pizza, put in a load of laundry...crap, got to check on that, and watched a movie. In the meantime made dinner plans with two different people. Whoopsy-maybe they won't mind all three of us meeting together? HA!
The Invention of Lying-BAD movie. First of all, the concept was slightly original, unless there was another 1939 film previously made that hasn't made it to TCM yet (LOVE IT!). Concept is a world full of people that don't know the meaning of lying. They always tell the truth. Great, I wish I could be more like that-would get out of dinner plans a lot easier HAHA, plus I'm sure...well, you know. Anyway, the stupid part of the movie was the fact that not only did the people not lie, they obviously also had no censures what-so-ever in their brains. They just said the first thing that popped into their heads. "I was just masturbating" Great, but nobody asked what you were doing, why do you feel it necessary to tell us? "I think that you are ugly" OK, nice, so do I, but again, no one asked what you thought of me, therefore there would be no reason for you to express your true feelings at this time. Stupid. The movie could have been better if they took that part out. Plus, I got super bored with it so I ended up fast forwarding through it again. Maybe I am starting to get adult onset ADD. This was the second movie I have watched that I just didn't care enough to sit through the entire thing. Oh wait, alcohol was involved with both movies...maybe that was the reason. They do say that alcohol brings out the truth. But I don't see it. I just get sleepy. Speaking of which...snooze fest time while the dogs are still tired from their run. I need to get my coat from home, it's freezing out there. Not like I'm going to go right now, but you know, later maybe tomorrow! HAHA What? Oh, right, so the movie then started getting too religious for me too. Bringing down the whole Ten Commandments thing and "the guy in the sky" all that malarkey. Really, I think my laundry is done. Should probably check on that. Oh, yeah, supposed to check on movie times as well. Fuck it, I'm taking a nap. I have an 11 mile run tomorrow in..shit I forgot the address at home. Now I really have to go home later. Richmond Hts I think..but what is the address? No more drinky drink for you. It's not even 3pm yet. Holy shit! It's only 2:30! In the afternoon! I've been up too long to be worried about all this crap. What crap? Beats me, I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore. Is this spelled right?
I'm going to go...
Ciao!
The Invention of Lying-BAD movie. First of all, the concept was slightly original, unless there was another 1939 film previously made that hasn't made it to TCM yet (LOVE IT!). Concept is a world full of people that don't know the meaning of lying. They always tell the truth. Great, I wish I could be more like that-would get out of dinner plans a lot easier HAHA, plus I'm sure...well, you know. Anyway, the stupid part of the movie was the fact that not only did the people not lie, they obviously also had no censures what-so-ever in their brains. They just said the first thing that popped into their heads. "I was just masturbating" Great, but nobody asked what you were doing, why do you feel it necessary to tell us? "I think that you are ugly" OK, nice, so do I, but again, no one asked what you thought of me, therefore there would be no reason for you to express your true feelings at this time. Stupid. The movie could have been better if they took that part out. Plus, I got super bored with it so I ended up fast forwarding through it again. Maybe I am starting to get adult onset ADD. This was the second movie I have watched that I just didn't care enough to sit through the entire thing. Oh wait, alcohol was involved with both movies...maybe that was the reason. They do say that alcohol brings out the truth. But I don't see it. I just get sleepy. Speaking of which...snooze fest time while the dogs are still tired from their run. I need to get my coat from home, it's freezing out there. Not like I'm going to go right now, but you know, later maybe tomorrow! HAHA What? Oh, right, so the movie then started getting too religious for me too. Bringing down the whole Ten Commandments thing and "the guy in the sky" all that malarkey. Really, I think my laundry is done. Should probably check on that. Oh, yeah, supposed to check on movie times as well. Fuck it, I'm taking a nap. I have an 11 mile run tomorrow in..shit I forgot the address at home. Now I really have to go home later. Richmond Hts I think..but what is the address? No more drinky drink for you. It's not even 3pm yet. Holy shit! It's only 2:30! In the afternoon! I've been up too long to be worried about all this crap. What crap? Beats me, I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore. Is this spelled right?
I'm going to go...
Ciao!
Thursday, April 15, 2010
The Fat Gay revisted...again
First, I find it interesting that I am giving yet another shout out to one of my two loyal viewers. But, hey, maybe we will both get more recognition that way. I guess it really doesn’t matter.
Are Traditional Romances dead or do people still hold true to them? But, what are ‘traditional romances’ to begin with?
Mr. Gay believes the engagement ring to be one. A symbol of eternity, a circle of life and love filled with one other person-and only one other person. “A bond shared with one another and with God.” First of all, why does God have anything to do with it? The bond possessed by the two individuals is for them and them alone. Though, traditionally thinking, people were married in the church before the hand of God and all that hoopla. But, there were times when “God” as he is known in the western, Christian sense was not always celebrated. The ancient Egyptians still believed in marriage, though their gods were far from the all knowing, mighty God in today’s time. Same with the Ancient Greeks and Romans. Therefore, could we really state that God should be involved with the engagement ring? I think not.
On the basis of picking one out…this is more of a 19th century tradition as prior to then, the man would formally ask the father or family of the young woman and maybe a small token of affection from the man would be given to the woman, but normally in the form of an old locket or pin of some sort. The engagement ring we know today only started in the early 1900’s when wealth and power started to be expressed through adornment and who was able to get the most ‘precious’ of the precious in the biggest size. When love still had nothing to do with it, but more on the lines of how much your husband-to-be made as opposed to how much your father was giving him to marry you. Obviously in the early 1900’s, the woman’s opinion meant nothing, so the man would pick out the ring, probably the bigger the better he thought since she wouldn’t be there to help him out. If the diamond was big enough, hopefully it would obscure the fact that the setting wasn’t just right. But, relating to today’s times, when the woman sometimes has more say than the man, would it be better for the man to still pick out the ring or should the woman have some sort of say in it? Considering we are out of the barbaric ways of “I see woman, me must marry” society, and the act of marriage is something that should be gone over in some detail prior to any engagement ring bought and exchanged hands, it should be the responsibility of both parties to make the decision. Go together, when the time is right, have the woman pick out two or three styles (with in reason). That way, when the man goes back to buy ‘the ring’ it will still be a surprise, but the woman would undoubtedly like it. I say if a man can’t pick out the right ring for woman, they don’t deserve to be married. The same can go with if the man doesn’t allow the woman’s in put…
But, why do we need an engagement ring to begin with? You receive a wedding ring, which is the band that symbolizes eternal love, so why does some gaudy, gold ring puking diamonds all over your finger need to be given? To symbolize how much money your husband-to-be makes over someone else's? To remind the woman she is shackled to this one man and can’t even look at another? To be a high-beam to all other men playing the field? Does this really transmit love anymore?
I do not feel that the engagement ring is a ‘traditional romance’. The real romance is the love and openness shared among those two people that allowed them to get to that point in their lives to begin with.
But, romances can be different for different people. What makes the essence of true love can be different compared to others essence. As long as it is there, that is all that should really matter. And Mr. Gay is correct in stating, if there is no true romance (no matter what it is) what is the point? Humans have these emotions for a reason (why, I do not know) but we have them. We can foolishly go through life denying the feelings, or accept them. The decision is up to you. Of course, HOW you act on them can definitely make a difference in how people see and respect you.
Ciao!
Are Traditional Romances dead or do people still hold true to them? But, what are ‘traditional romances’ to begin with?
Mr. Gay believes the engagement ring to be one. A symbol of eternity, a circle of life and love filled with one other person-and only one other person. “A bond shared with one another and with God.” First of all, why does God have anything to do with it? The bond possessed by the two individuals is for them and them alone. Though, traditionally thinking, people were married in the church before the hand of God and all that hoopla. But, there were times when “God” as he is known in the western, Christian sense was not always celebrated. The ancient Egyptians still believed in marriage, though their gods were far from the all knowing, mighty God in today’s time. Same with the Ancient Greeks and Romans. Therefore, could we really state that God should be involved with the engagement ring? I think not.
On the basis of picking one out…this is more of a 19th century tradition as prior to then, the man would formally ask the father or family of the young woman and maybe a small token of affection from the man would be given to the woman, but normally in the form of an old locket or pin of some sort. The engagement ring we know today only started in the early 1900’s when wealth and power started to be expressed through adornment and who was able to get the most ‘precious’ of the precious in the biggest size. When love still had nothing to do with it, but more on the lines of how much your husband-to-be made as opposed to how much your father was giving him to marry you. Obviously in the early 1900’s, the woman’s opinion meant nothing, so the man would pick out the ring, probably the bigger the better he thought since she wouldn’t be there to help him out. If the diamond was big enough, hopefully it would obscure the fact that the setting wasn’t just right. But, relating to today’s times, when the woman sometimes has more say than the man, would it be better for the man to still pick out the ring or should the woman have some sort of say in it? Considering we are out of the barbaric ways of “I see woman, me must marry” society, and the act of marriage is something that should be gone over in some detail prior to any engagement ring bought and exchanged hands, it should be the responsibility of both parties to make the decision. Go together, when the time is right, have the woman pick out two or three styles (with in reason). That way, when the man goes back to buy ‘the ring’ it will still be a surprise, but the woman would undoubtedly like it. I say if a man can’t pick out the right ring for woman, they don’t deserve to be married. The same can go with if the man doesn’t allow the woman’s in put…
But, why do we need an engagement ring to begin with? You receive a wedding ring, which is the band that symbolizes eternal love, so why does some gaudy, gold ring puking diamonds all over your finger need to be given? To symbolize how much money your husband-to-be makes over someone else's? To remind the woman she is shackled to this one man and can’t even look at another? To be a high-beam to all other men playing the field? Does this really transmit love anymore?
I do not feel that the engagement ring is a ‘traditional romance’. The real romance is the love and openness shared among those two people that allowed them to get to that point in their lives to begin with.
But, romances can be different for different people. What makes the essence of true love can be different compared to others essence. As long as it is there, that is all that should really matter. And Mr. Gay is correct in stating, if there is no true romance (no matter what it is) what is the point? Humans have these emotions for a reason (why, I do not know) but we have them. We can foolishly go through life denying the feelings, or accept them. The decision is up to you. Of course, HOW you act on them can definitely make a difference in how people see and respect you.
Ciao!
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Uh Oh!
Guess what time it is? My annual dog shitting agenda! Oh how fun! Staying in a house by myself surrounded by 3 dogs that are small and smelly. HAHA Oh well, gotta do what ya gotta do. At least I'll have three running buddies for the upcoming week. Oh wait, I'm not supposed to talk about running in my regular blog. Doesn't matter, nobody really reads either one. I can talk about whatever it is I want to talk about.
Someone let me know what good television shows I should borrow from the library. Old, new, whatever. I'm bored and want to watch something that will make me laugh, think, whatever.
I started watching Arrested Development's first season last night. That made me laugh a bit. I think I only watched one episode my entire life and it was during the first season. Interesting.
Well, I guess that's about it, I don't have much. I'm at work...since we aren't "allowed" to leave. I guess they will be upset starting Friday when I have to leave for lunch. Stupid...whatever.
Ciao!
Someone let me know what good television shows I should borrow from the library. Old, new, whatever. I'm bored and want to watch something that will make me laugh, think, whatever.
I started watching Arrested Development's first season last night. That made me laugh a bit. I think I only watched one episode my entire life and it was during the first season. Interesting.
Well, I guess that's about it, I don't have much. I'm at work...since we aren't "allowed" to leave. I guess they will be upset starting Friday when I have to leave for lunch. Stupid...whatever.
Ciao!
Monday, April 12, 2010
No spoon for you!
Why does it seem that between the hours of 8am and 5pm Monday through Friday, your life is no longer your own? You only get paid for 8 of those 9 hours, so you think, well, maybe that one hour I am not paid for would be my own hour, do what I want to do, as long as I am not doing anything illegal or something that would look bad on my work reputation.
Well, that's not true, I guess. That one hour that you are not paid is still not your own time. According to some insane people that call themselves your boss and/or office manager. You are forever indebted to remain on company grounds, though you can't use the company supplied items like forks, spoons or the microwave for god sake. God forbid you cook something that has any sort of odor and requires you to use a spoon to eat with it. What do you mean you didn't bring your own spoon from home with you? You expect the company to supply spoons for you? Well, isn't that why they are sitting in a drawer in the kitchen? Or is it just a staging for when people come to view the facility-yes, we use our kitchen, see the spoons in the drawer? I bet you don't smell any food though, because we don't allow our employees to use the microwave, yet we forbid them to leave the building for lunch.
Speaking of false giving, what is the point on having a cover charge for a bar when the drink prices are some astronomical amount to begin with? There is no band and the dj is hidden away in a dark corner surrounded by glass and walls and you can't even get to them to request a song. What are you paying for? Not the upkeep of the bathrooms, that's for sure. Not when there are only 3 stalls, one that uses a curtain for a door and two others that were jimmied in such a way that you can get them to lock, with effort, but what's the point? The cracks left behind after the 'jimmy' are so large you mind as well have just left the door open. At least there was toilet paper. And then, they post these signs all over the place stating a phone number to use if you happen to drink just a bit too much. And when your ride home does just that, you call the number and it's disconnected. What kind of thank you for patronising my bar and spending all your money on alcohol so now you have to take a cab ride home is that? Luckily I had a 50 dollar bill on my dresser, otherwise we would have been screwed. Just call me Sister Bail-Out (and I am talking about the habit wearing nun type of sister, not the-your my brother, I'm your sister, sister). I'm no Saint, but it seems that I'm continuously bailing someone out every other weekend. Well, it's my own fault. But at least I have a good time while doing it.
I guess my death to the boss didn't come true and it was just a story. Hmmm...but she did not show up to work today...
Well, that's not true, I guess. That one hour that you are not paid is still not your own time. According to some insane people that call themselves your boss and/or office manager. You are forever indebted to remain on company grounds, though you can't use the company supplied items like forks, spoons or the microwave for god sake. God forbid you cook something that has any sort of odor and requires you to use a spoon to eat with it. What do you mean you didn't bring your own spoon from home with you? You expect the company to supply spoons for you? Well, isn't that why they are sitting in a drawer in the kitchen? Or is it just a staging for when people come to view the facility-yes, we use our kitchen, see the spoons in the drawer? I bet you don't smell any food though, because we don't allow our employees to use the microwave, yet we forbid them to leave the building for lunch.
Speaking of false giving, what is the point on having a cover charge for a bar when the drink prices are some astronomical amount to begin with? There is no band and the dj is hidden away in a dark corner surrounded by glass and walls and you can't even get to them to request a song. What are you paying for? Not the upkeep of the bathrooms, that's for sure. Not when there are only 3 stalls, one that uses a curtain for a door and two others that were jimmied in such a way that you can get them to lock, with effort, but what's the point? The cracks left behind after the 'jimmy' are so large you mind as well have just left the door open. At least there was toilet paper. And then, they post these signs all over the place stating a phone number to use if you happen to drink just a bit too much. And when your ride home does just that, you call the number and it's disconnected. What kind of thank you for patronising my bar and spending all your money on alcohol so now you have to take a cab ride home is that? Luckily I had a 50 dollar bill on my dresser, otherwise we would have been screwed. Just call me Sister Bail-Out (and I am talking about the habit wearing nun type of sister, not the-your my brother, I'm your sister, sister). I'm no Saint, but it seems that I'm continuously bailing someone out every other weekend. Well, it's my own fault. But at least I have a good time while doing it.
I guess my death to the boss didn't come true and it was just a story. Hmmm...but she did not show up to work today...
Thursday, April 8, 2010
The Fat Gay (shout out!) revisited
The Fat Gay has posted a blog the other day that required me, well, didn't require me, but I took it upon myself to take it as a requirement and finish off where he started.
The post was to imagine yourself on a yacht in the middle of the ocean during the most perfect day with no one else but the person you hate most in life. Now, what would you say or do to this person?
First of all, it would be hard to imagine myself in this situation for numerous reasons.
1) I don't like boats unless they are the very large type that are more like floating cities than actual boats.
2) I don't like boats, therefore, I don't foresee how I would be on one by myself save for the one person I hate in life.
3) I don't like the middle of the ocean. The shore is fine; a docked boat, maybe. But the middle of the ocean? Can't foresee how I would not have tried to wiggle out of that one.
4) I don't really hate anyone that much-though I could get to hate someone if put in that situation.
OK-Let's just say, for argument purposes, a group of people, including my most hated enemy were invited on a yacht on the dock of, let's say somewhere in Florida. I was taking a holiday by myself-much needed, frankly. I picked Florida because it's a place I wouldn't normally go-hot, party central. Yeah, I wasn't having much fun until I heard about this yacht party over at pier 49. Actually, a new local band was hosting it in honor of their CD release. I happened to walk into this small tea store right outside of Bayside Market and they were giving away tickets to customers who purchased the CD. They had the music playing on the overhead speakers at the time. I was really intrigued by their sound. Knowing I had nothing to do that night anyway, I picked up the $10 CD and got my free ticket. I didn't have to use it, and anyway, the music would go well on my new running track.
As the day progressed, and I meandered around the Bayside area, my mind wandered more and ore to the yacht party and the "hot new band" hosting. I remembered I brought my new blue, as opposed to my everyday black, halter dress and silver heels. What a perfect outfit for the night. I started getting excited, so I hurried back t the house I was renting to start getting ready. I could always get ready and go somewhere else, I thought.
With my hair clipped back, as I knew the wind would be horrendous, and my dress just right, I called a taxi cab to take me to Pier 49. Ticket in one hand , clutch in the other, I saw about 4 or 5 other women all surpassing me on the 'hot' scale. Perfectly tanned and toned body's, yet you could see the plastic oozing out of their pores. The men were just as fake with their highlighted hair, polo shirts and leather sandals. I took a deep breath and got out of the cab, no turning back now! I'm on vacation, why not do something a bit on the wild side?
I walked up to the boat and tried to smile at the other people on my way up, though each one seemed to send daggers through me with their emotionless, icy smiles.
I ignored the stares and glares and walked up to the yacht. A man in a tuxedo smiled an politely asked for my ticket. I handed him the ticket I received at the tea store and was escorted by a very handsome young man to the front of the boat. He led me to a seating area unlike anything I would imagine on a boat. I felt as if I was in a millionaire's home and they just opened up the roof to allow the sun and warm summer breeze drift through the house. As I sat on the plush built-in seat at the edge of the boat, I turned my head back towards the ramp where the tuxeded man stood guard. I noticed that some of the icy smiling bitches with dogs on their arms were politely turned away as it would seem they did not possess tickets. As I sat their watching as one after another tall, tan, plastic, fake Floridian's were turned away from the yacht, I was served flutes of Champagne and silver trays of fresh fruit. The servers were all pleasant and polite to talk to. Then I realized that the servers were not servers, but the band that was hosting the party to begin with. Feeling quite foolish, I fumbled with my words and almost dropped my glass on the yacht floor. One of the members calmly smiled and told me there was no need to feel embarrassed, for they intentionally acted that way to make sure the 'right' people were at their party. Then I heard one of them moan, "She ended up showing up." He said. "Who?" I asked not really thinking. "My aunt. I told her about this party, but I never thought she would come. She's old and not very nice, but she's my aunt and I knew she was going to be in town."
I turned my head and noticed a rather large, older woman attempting to scale the ramp without overturning the boat in the process. Red faced and sweaty, I noticed a resemblance to this woman and my old boss. Then, as she looked up and started towards us, I realized, with shock and a real feeling of fear, it WAS my old boss. The woman who drove me to the brink of insanity, the woman who made my work days a living Hell, the woman who was like a cockroach in the way she would never die, no matter what evil she spread or what happened to her. She would live on the Earth forever spreading her disease called hatred and despair for all to enjoy. A dark cloud of doom seems to always follow her in her wake. All smiles crumble to tears as she passes. One look from her eyes makes even an atheist believe the Devil exists and walks the Earth.
I quickly tried to compose myself so she wouldn't see the fear on my face and then feed off of it. Damn, I knew I should have just went to a nice dinner and called it a night, maybe take a midnight swim in the swimming pool. Now I had to sit on this stupid boat with these hot, young band members and...and HER. What the Hell? Is my life that horrible? Or maybe it's just that great that I have to be put back in my place? What are the odds that we both would be on vacation at the same time at the same place and end up at the same party? What are the odds? God hates me.
So the bitch finally makes it to the front of the boat, you could already feel the tension run through all the band members. She put on one of her fake ass smiles and went in to hug her, who I now knew was her nephew. The uncomfortableness in the hug could be felt by the underwater creatures 20,000 leagues under the sea.
She turned and looked at me with a surprised look on her face. "Yeah, it's me, remember me? I'm doing well, thank you, thought I'd take a break and do a little traveling by myself before I had to spend the rest of my life behind a desk again."
"How nice." Yeah, well, it was.
Unbenowest to me, the tuxedoed man at the ramp had unroped the boat and it was slowly drifting out to sea. When I glanced passed my old boss to take a deep breath to calm myself, I noticed the shore line getting farther and farther away.
"Wait, wait! Why are we moving?" I exclaimed to one of the band members. "Oh, we are just going a bit out to sea to have a real boat party. Don't worry, we'll anchor a few miles out." Then I also realized the only people on the boat were the band members, myself and my old boss. Some party, I thought. I was feeling more and more uncomfortable and all I wanted to do was get off the boat, but there was no way that was happening now. For the next hour or so, I just listened to her talk about all her annoyances in life-for the millionth time. It's like her life stopped after 40 and the only things she knew to talk about was a brief time period between 35 and 40. No matter who you were or where you were, you heard the same, sad stories over and over again. She told them so many times, they seemed almost rehearsed. Every word was exactly the same from the last time you heard it. What is wrong with this woman, besides the fact I swear she is clinically insane. Take some medication and leave my life alone already!
During this entire time, the boat was still drifting out to sea and I could see the band members moving about the yacht in a way that did not seem appropriate for a nice, summer time party. Finally I caught one of the guys attention and asked what was going on. The anchor broke off awhile back and we were continuously drifting further and further out. None of them really knew how to control the boat and all the technology and gadgets were beyond my comprehension. Of course, my old boss took that moment to go off on one of her rants about technology, in her old nitty bitty way. Oh my god! Just shut up already! Don't you see the big picture right now? There was a little dingy attached to the yacht and one band member said he would jump ship and row to shore-where ever that was now, to get help. Thinking it not safe for him to go by himself, I was about to request that I should tag along (I'd take a small dingy in the middle of the ocean over a huge yacht with my old boss any day). But, before I could open my mouth, the other band members already jumped in the boat, not leaving anymore room. "Stay here", they said, "we'll be back as soon as we can." "What? You are all going to leave us just floating out here?" "Try to get the radio to work and see if you can put out a mayday." Sure, right, I'll get right on that.
After a half hour of literally sitting on our hands, I finally got up and decided to play around with some of the dials on the boat. "You really shouldn't play with that, you don't know what you're doing." "Yeah, I know, but it beats sitting around while we are drifting further and further out to sea. Don't you notice the waves are getting bigger and stronger? That means we are not so close to home anymore. That little dingy isn't going to make it and those guys are going to have a heck of a time swimming back to land, especially considering they don't even know what direction land is."
I could see the annoyance taking over her mind and body, it was just something you grew accustomed to noticing after working under her for so many years. I tried to keep my calm and busy myself with whatever contraptions were in the cabin and forget she was there. Then, of course, she came into the cabin. The over powering girth of her body made it near impossible to breath without touching her in some way. What the hell? Does she like to be bumped and knocked around? I have a personal space issue, it's called I like it-so get out of mine. If you are close enough that I can smell what you had for lunch, you are too close-back the fat ass up. I close my eyes, no, I'm not going to give in and let her win, that's what she wants, that's what she always wants.
With buzzers and bells going off from all the buttons and levers I'm pushing, I finally give up. Nothing was working, whoever created this system was on crack, and I didn't see any around to start smoking to be able to figure it out myself.
I sat back down, debating if I should just drink the rest of the Champagne and fall into a drunken slumber, or if I should try to listen to another story about my old boss's mother and how she loved to make jelly. Then, as she started talking and picking her nose at the same time, I realized...we are in the middle of the ocean, for real. No one is around, at all. I have always contemplating what it would be like to just kill this woman. Just kill her dead. She would no longer spew her evilness onto anyone ever again. Ever again. I would be doing myself a justice. I would be doing the entire world a justice!
She was standing. She was standing at the edge of the boat right infront of me. "Would you like some Champagne?" I asked, my hand was shaking as I lifted the bottle. Don't move, I thought. I started pouring the Champagne into two flutes, and surprisingly, as if it was a sign, the bottle was empty. I gave a slight laugh as I held up the bottle. "Empty already?" she asked. I could feel the sardonic smile spread across my face as I lifted the bottle higher and higher. I just did it, I didn't think about it, I just swung my arm down as quickly as possible and smashed the bottle over her head. The bottle didn't break, it wasn't cheap Champagne, so it wasn't cheap glass. But it did the trick. She teetered for a moment, a blank stare in her eye. She hit the side of the boat, and before she had a chance to fall back into the boat I shoved as hard as I could until her large body swung over the built-in seating and into the blue, oh so clear and blue, water below. She never knew what hit her. The bubbles floated to the surface of the water and the yacht continued to drift off into the ocean. She never knew what hit her. And she never will.
I started laughing, holding myself in a hug. I eyed another bottle of Champagne and started pouring myself a glass. I lifted the glass into the air "To new beginnings!" I exclaimed to the open air.
Just then the radio started buzzing...
The post was to imagine yourself on a yacht in the middle of the ocean during the most perfect day with no one else but the person you hate most in life. Now, what would you say or do to this person?
First of all, it would be hard to imagine myself in this situation for numerous reasons.
1) I don't like boats unless they are the very large type that are more like floating cities than actual boats.
2) I don't like boats, therefore, I don't foresee how I would be on one by myself save for the one person I hate in life.
3) I don't like the middle of the ocean. The shore is fine; a docked boat, maybe. But the middle of the ocean? Can't foresee how I would not have tried to wiggle out of that one.
4) I don't really hate anyone that much-though I could get to hate someone if put in that situation.
OK-Let's just say, for argument purposes, a group of people, including my most hated enemy were invited on a yacht on the dock of, let's say somewhere in Florida. I was taking a holiday by myself-much needed, frankly. I picked Florida because it's a place I wouldn't normally go-hot, party central. Yeah, I wasn't having much fun until I heard about this yacht party over at pier 49. Actually, a new local band was hosting it in honor of their CD release. I happened to walk into this small tea store right outside of Bayside Market and they were giving away tickets to customers who purchased the CD. They had the music playing on the overhead speakers at the time. I was really intrigued by their sound. Knowing I had nothing to do that night anyway, I picked up the $10 CD and got my free ticket. I didn't have to use it, and anyway, the music would go well on my new running track.
As the day progressed, and I meandered around the Bayside area, my mind wandered more and ore to the yacht party and the "hot new band" hosting. I remembered I brought my new blue, as opposed to my everyday black, halter dress and silver heels. What a perfect outfit for the night. I started getting excited, so I hurried back t the house I was renting to start getting ready. I could always get ready and go somewhere else, I thought.
With my hair clipped back, as I knew the wind would be horrendous, and my dress just right, I called a taxi cab to take me to Pier 49. Ticket in one hand , clutch in the other, I saw about 4 or 5 other women all surpassing me on the 'hot' scale. Perfectly tanned and toned body's, yet you could see the plastic oozing out of their pores. The men were just as fake with their highlighted hair, polo shirts and leather sandals. I took a deep breath and got out of the cab, no turning back now! I'm on vacation, why not do something a bit on the wild side?
I walked up to the boat and tried to smile at the other people on my way up, though each one seemed to send daggers through me with their emotionless, icy smiles.
I ignored the stares and glares and walked up to the yacht. A man in a tuxedo smiled an politely asked for my ticket. I handed him the ticket I received at the tea store and was escorted by a very handsome young man to the front of the boat. He led me to a seating area unlike anything I would imagine on a boat. I felt as if I was in a millionaire's home and they just opened up the roof to allow the sun and warm summer breeze drift through the house. As I sat on the plush built-in seat at the edge of the boat, I turned my head back towards the ramp where the tuxeded man stood guard. I noticed that some of the icy smiling bitches with dogs on their arms were politely turned away as it would seem they did not possess tickets. As I sat their watching as one after another tall, tan, plastic, fake Floridian's were turned away from the yacht, I was served flutes of Champagne and silver trays of fresh fruit. The servers were all pleasant and polite to talk to. Then I realized that the servers were not servers, but the band that was hosting the party to begin with. Feeling quite foolish, I fumbled with my words and almost dropped my glass on the yacht floor. One of the members calmly smiled and told me there was no need to feel embarrassed, for they intentionally acted that way to make sure the 'right' people were at their party. Then I heard one of them moan, "She ended up showing up." He said. "Who?" I asked not really thinking. "My aunt. I told her about this party, but I never thought she would come. She's old and not very nice, but she's my aunt and I knew she was going to be in town."
I turned my head and noticed a rather large, older woman attempting to scale the ramp without overturning the boat in the process. Red faced and sweaty, I noticed a resemblance to this woman and my old boss. Then, as she looked up and started towards us, I realized, with shock and a real feeling of fear, it WAS my old boss. The woman who drove me to the brink of insanity, the woman who made my work days a living Hell, the woman who was like a cockroach in the way she would never die, no matter what evil she spread or what happened to her. She would live on the Earth forever spreading her disease called hatred and despair for all to enjoy. A dark cloud of doom seems to always follow her in her wake. All smiles crumble to tears as she passes. One look from her eyes makes even an atheist believe the Devil exists and walks the Earth.
I quickly tried to compose myself so she wouldn't see the fear on my face and then feed off of it. Damn, I knew I should have just went to a nice dinner and called it a night, maybe take a midnight swim in the swimming pool. Now I had to sit on this stupid boat with these hot, young band members and...and HER. What the Hell? Is my life that horrible? Or maybe it's just that great that I have to be put back in my place? What are the odds that we both would be on vacation at the same time at the same place and end up at the same party? What are the odds? God hates me.
So the bitch finally makes it to the front of the boat, you could already feel the tension run through all the band members. She put on one of her fake ass smiles and went in to hug her, who I now knew was her nephew. The uncomfortableness in the hug could be felt by the underwater creatures 20,000 leagues under the sea.
She turned and looked at me with a surprised look on her face. "Yeah, it's me, remember me? I'm doing well, thank you, thought I'd take a break and do a little traveling by myself before I had to spend the rest of my life behind a desk again."
"How nice." Yeah, well, it was.
Unbenowest to me, the tuxedoed man at the ramp had unroped the boat and it was slowly drifting out to sea. When I glanced passed my old boss to take a deep breath to calm myself, I noticed the shore line getting farther and farther away.
"Wait, wait! Why are we moving?" I exclaimed to one of the band members. "Oh, we are just going a bit out to sea to have a real boat party. Don't worry, we'll anchor a few miles out." Then I also realized the only people on the boat were the band members, myself and my old boss. Some party, I thought. I was feeling more and more uncomfortable and all I wanted to do was get off the boat, but there was no way that was happening now. For the next hour or so, I just listened to her talk about all her annoyances in life-for the millionth time. It's like her life stopped after 40 and the only things she knew to talk about was a brief time period between 35 and 40. No matter who you were or where you were, you heard the same, sad stories over and over again. She told them so many times, they seemed almost rehearsed. Every word was exactly the same from the last time you heard it. What is wrong with this woman, besides the fact I swear she is clinically insane. Take some medication and leave my life alone already!
During this entire time, the boat was still drifting out to sea and I could see the band members moving about the yacht in a way that did not seem appropriate for a nice, summer time party. Finally I caught one of the guys attention and asked what was going on. The anchor broke off awhile back and we were continuously drifting further and further out. None of them really knew how to control the boat and all the technology and gadgets were beyond my comprehension. Of course, my old boss took that moment to go off on one of her rants about technology, in her old nitty bitty way. Oh my god! Just shut up already! Don't you see the big picture right now? There was a little dingy attached to the yacht and one band member said he would jump ship and row to shore-where ever that was now, to get help. Thinking it not safe for him to go by himself, I was about to request that I should tag along (I'd take a small dingy in the middle of the ocean over a huge yacht with my old boss any day). But, before I could open my mouth, the other band members already jumped in the boat, not leaving anymore room. "Stay here", they said, "we'll be back as soon as we can." "What? You are all going to leave us just floating out here?" "Try to get the radio to work and see if you can put out a mayday." Sure, right, I'll get right on that.
After a half hour of literally sitting on our hands, I finally got up and decided to play around with some of the dials on the boat. "You really shouldn't play with that, you don't know what you're doing." "Yeah, I know, but it beats sitting around while we are drifting further and further out to sea. Don't you notice the waves are getting bigger and stronger? That means we are not so close to home anymore. That little dingy isn't going to make it and those guys are going to have a heck of a time swimming back to land, especially considering they don't even know what direction land is."
I could see the annoyance taking over her mind and body, it was just something you grew accustomed to noticing after working under her for so many years. I tried to keep my calm and busy myself with whatever contraptions were in the cabin and forget she was there. Then, of course, she came into the cabin. The over powering girth of her body made it near impossible to breath without touching her in some way. What the hell? Does she like to be bumped and knocked around? I have a personal space issue, it's called I like it-so get out of mine. If you are close enough that I can smell what you had for lunch, you are too close-back the fat ass up. I close my eyes, no, I'm not going to give in and let her win, that's what she wants, that's what she always wants.
With buzzers and bells going off from all the buttons and levers I'm pushing, I finally give up. Nothing was working, whoever created this system was on crack, and I didn't see any around to start smoking to be able to figure it out myself.
I sat back down, debating if I should just drink the rest of the Champagne and fall into a drunken slumber, or if I should try to listen to another story about my old boss's mother and how she loved to make jelly. Then, as she started talking and picking her nose at the same time, I realized...we are in the middle of the ocean, for real. No one is around, at all. I have always contemplating what it would be like to just kill this woman. Just kill her dead. She would no longer spew her evilness onto anyone ever again. Ever again. I would be doing myself a justice. I would be doing the entire world a justice!
She was standing. She was standing at the edge of the boat right infront of me. "Would you like some Champagne?" I asked, my hand was shaking as I lifted the bottle. Don't move, I thought. I started pouring the Champagne into two flutes, and surprisingly, as if it was a sign, the bottle was empty. I gave a slight laugh as I held up the bottle. "Empty already?" she asked. I could feel the sardonic smile spread across my face as I lifted the bottle higher and higher. I just did it, I didn't think about it, I just swung my arm down as quickly as possible and smashed the bottle over her head. The bottle didn't break, it wasn't cheap Champagne, so it wasn't cheap glass. But it did the trick. She teetered for a moment, a blank stare in her eye. She hit the side of the boat, and before she had a chance to fall back into the boat I shoved as hard as I could until her large body swung over the built-in seating and into the blue, oh so clear and blue, water below. She never knew what hit her. The bubbles floated to the surface of the water and the yacht continued to drift off into the ocean. She never knew what hit her. And she never will.
I started laughing, holding myself in a hug. I eyed another bottle of Champagne and started pouring myself a glass. I lifted the glass into the air "To new beginnings!" I exclaimed to the open air.
Just then the radio started buzzing...
Monday, April 5, 2010
Weekend the Great
This weekend was one of the better weekends I have had in a long time. Could it be because it was an extended weekend due to a holiday? The fact it was the first nice weekend in a long, long time? Or maybe it was due to the fact that I could drive where ever I wanted whenever I wanted. Whatever the reason, it was great!
Thursday night karaoke...well, ok, that wasn't SO great, but it beat sitting at home Thursday night going "this sucks, I'm bored, and I don't have to work tomorrow." Of course the fact that I couldn't drink for fear of being thrown in jail, again, creeped into my head more than once. Especially when the annoyance of the drunk people around me started taking affect. Am I really that bad? I am never drinking again...JUST KIDDING!
Friday was nice-a bit warm, but a good day. Took an evening walk around Little Italy. Though not really knowing why there were so many people out and the cops blocked the street, until I remembered what the day entailed...Good Friday. Saturday was awesome! Westside Market, cupcakes galour! Little bit of Asian and some Freedom Duck! FREEDOM DUCK! Mussels for the first time ever, and they weren't even that bad. Followed up by a romp around Ohio City and then to Union Station. Interesting little establishment. The only bad thing is, ok, I get that you are gay, but a guy is a guy. If I want to use the restroom, I shouldn't have to fear a man being in there chit-chatting with his gal pals while I'm squatting over the toilet hoping nobody peeks through the 3 inch gap around the door and the wall because, obviously gay bars don't believe in discretion. Sorry, I was never one to enjoy peeing in public restrooms, why would I enjoy a man staring at my pubes while I pissed in the yellowish brown water below?
Despise that fact, it was a good time. Have to admit, watching your brother go from sober to drunk in an evenings time is quite amusing.
I like pork rinds too. I think they are probably pretty unhealthy, but they taste so good and they are so light it takes away from the fact you are eating fat. They should just call them fat rinds. Why are they rinds anyway? What is a rind? OK, I take that back, pork rinds are not that bad for you. I think I'll have some more. I just thought, I'll take some over to the neighbors tomorrow...but they are vegetarians, I don't think that's a good idea.
EW! I just found out that pork rinds are fried pig skin. Gosh darn it, everything I like turns out to be gross or unhealthy. I should have known, I like them.
For the longest time I have been trying to find a Sims game for my DS. I haven't found anything worth buying so I was thinking about just getting a computer game. Not like I'm not on it enough, right? I should get the computer game, my little cousin said it is funnier than any other Sims game she has played. I'm sure it will be quicker then my Playstation 2 game. I get so annoyed waiting for the game to load something that I just stop playing it. Plus, you can only save one game at a time. I burned my house down once but didn't want to start all over again. But in order to play a new game and save, I had to delete the other game. I was very upset. Well, I'm over it now, I think.
Nice, I totally found a website that I can purchase and download Sims 2 Deluxe for only $20! I think I might do it. The only thing I'm worried about is my video card? I don't know what that means. I should have a video card on my computer...right? I wouldn't be able to watch video's without it...right? I'm so computer illiterate it's not even funny.
Oh well....
Ciao!
Thursday night karaoke...well, ok, that wasn't SO great, but it beat sitting at home Thursday night going "this sucks, I'm bored, and I don't have to work tomorrow." Of course the fact that I couldn't drink for fear of being thrown in jail, again, creeped into my head more than once. Especially when the annoyance of the drunk people around me started taking affect. Am I really that bad? I am never drinking again...JUST KIDDING!
Friday was nice-a bit warm, but a good day. Took an evening walk around Little Italy. Though not really knowing why there were so many people out and the cops blocked the street, until I remembered what the day entailed...Good Friday. Saturday was awesome! Westside Market, cupcakes galour! Little bit of Asian and some Freedom Duck! FREEDOM DUCK! Mussels for the first time ever, and they weren't even that bad. Followed up by a romp around Ohio City and then to Union Station. Interesting little establishment. The only bad thing is, ok, I get that you are gay, but a guy is a guy. If I want to use the restroom, I shouldn't have to fear a man being in there chit-chatting with his gal pals while I'm squatting over the toilet hoping nobody peeks through the 3 inch gap around the door and the wall because, obviously gay bars don't believe in discretion. Sorry, I was never one to enjoy peeing in public restrooms, why would I enjoy a man staring at my pubes while I pissed in the yellowish brown water below?
Despise that fact, it was a good time. Have to admit, watching your brother go from sober to drunk in an evenings time is quite amusing.
I like pork rinds too. I think they are probably pretty unhealthy, but they taste so good and they are so light it takes away from the fact you are eating fat. They should just call them fat rinds. Why are they rinds anyway? What is a rind? OK, I take that back, pork rinds are not that bad for you. I think I'll have some more. I just thought, I'll take some over to the neighbors tomorrow...but they are vegetarians, I don't think that's a good idea.
EW! I just found out that pork rinds are fried pig skin. Gosh darn it, everything I like turns out to be gross or unhealthy. I should have known, I like them.
For the longest time I have been trying to find a Sims game for my DS. I haven't found anything worth buying so I was thinking about just getting a computer game. Not like I'm not on it enough, right? I should get the computer game, my little cousin said it is funnier than any other Sims game she has played. I'm sure it will be quicker then my Playstation 2 game. I get so annoyed waiting for the game to load something that I just stop playing it. Plus, you can only save one game at a time. I burned my house down once but didn't want to start all over again. But in order to play a new game and save, I had to delete the other game. I was very upset. Well, I'm over it now, I think.
Nice, I totally found a website that I can purchase and download Sims 2 Deluxe for only $20! I think I might do it. The only thing I'm worried about is my video card? I don't know what that means. I should have a video card on my computer...right? I wouldn't be able to watch video's without it...right? I'm so computer illiterate it's not even funny.
Oh well....
Ciao!
Friday, April 2, 2010
First day of the rest of my life
I went to karaoke for the first time in a couple months last night. I drove! I DROVE! That also means I didn't drink. I sat at the bar for 4.5 hours without one drop of liquor. OK, I had ONE DROP of liquor only to taste a Purple Rain my friend ordered. It did not taste like a purple rain. That was the moment I realized I was a complete lush. I said-I know it tastes like the gross grape cough syrup your mother made you drink when you were younger, but I would so down that just because that means there is THAT much alcohol in it. Needless to say, it sat on the table untouched at the end of the night. We left 3 men behind last night. I cried a bit inside...I would have never let that happened in the past. I think I've grown up! Look mommy! I'm all grown up now!
It was interesting driving on the freeway for the first time in 6 months. Almost like I was doing something wrong. I kept looking in my mirrors and every time we came up to an emergency turn around point I would slow down just a bit. Why? I don't know-I guess I'm always going to have the feeling of guilt in the back of my head, even if I'm not guilty of anything. Always looking over my shoulder for a cop to pull me over. What will I say? No-I didn't have a drop to drink. No seriously, only caffeine. I act like this all the time, I have witnesses. Can I get a Witness? I wanted to sing that song for karaoke, but that's the only part of the song I know and I don't know the name or who sang it, so I left it alone.
I'm going to break into my sisters house now and watch the recorded Bones episode I missed last night since I was karaoking. Technically I was sitting at the hot bar with my friends wondering where this smell of ass was coming from. Then I realized it was from my food. My food smelled like ass and I ate it. Well, let's just say my shit smelled the same coming out this morning. Maybe the chicken quesidilla's was not as good of an idea as I thought it was. They were still good.
Well, Happy Good Friday-Jesus died for you-what are you going to do for me?
Ciao!
It was interesting driving on the freeway for the first time in 6 months. Almost like I was doing something wrong. I kept looking in my mirrors and every time we came up to an emergency turn around point I would slow down just a bit. Why? I don't know-I guess I'm always going to have the feeling of guilt in the back of my head, even if I'm not guilty of anything. Always looking over my shoulder for a cop to pull me over. What will I say? No-I didn't have a drop to drink. No seriously, only caffeine. I act like this all the time, I have witnesses. Can I get a Witness? I wanted to sing that song for karaoke, but that's the only part of the song I know and I don't know the name or who sang it, so I left it alone.
I'm going to break into my sisters house now and watch the recorded Bones episode I missed last night since I was karaoking. Technically I was sitting at the hot bar with my friends wondering where this smell of ass was coming from. Then I realized it was from my food. My food smelled like ass and I ate it. Well, let's just say my shit smelled the same coming out this morning. Maybe the chicken quesidilla's was not as good of an idea as I thought it was. They were still good.
Well, Happy Good Friday-Jesus died for you-what are you going to do for me?
Ciao!
Thursday, April 1, 2010
I need a beer...
Nice, warm days and all I think about is sitting outside and drinking a nice cold beer. I'm driving tonight, so I better not chance it.
I finally got my hair cut! YEAH! I'm on the fence about it though. I usually am when I got a hair cut. God I'm hungry. Fuck it, I'm getting a beer and eating some yogurt...outside. Hey, that's fun!
See ya!
Ciao!
I finally got my hair cut! YEAH! I'm on the fence about it though. I usually am when I got a hair cut. God I'm hungry. Fuck it, I'm getting a beer and eating some yogurt...outside. Hey, that's fun!
See ya!
Ciao!
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