Cost of My Day

This is how much money I (personally) spent today, not including any sort of business related stuff.



1) $3.10 for one large hot chocolate and two chocolate glazed donuts

The hot chocolate is fairly standard for me, sometimes I get a muffin sometimes I get two donuts, sometimes I get nothing but the hot chocolate.

2) $10.28 for one large Turkey and American Cheese Hero with Lettuce, Tomato, and Mayonnaise

I thought this was entirely too much for a sandwich. Even if it was a really big sandwich that was both my lunch and dinner. I may have to be more careful where I buy my sandwiches.

3)$11.60 for three Rice Krispie Treats, one small bag of Cool Ranch Doritos, and one 1/2 gallon jug of Rosenberg's Iced Tea.

So we're up around $25 on food alone today, even though I didn't eat everything I bought that's still a good chunk of change. Eating out costs too much, and I never cook. Something to look into.

4)$12.99 for The Beach Boys Sounds of Summer on Itunes

I'm putting together a Top 100 playlist on Itunes and I can't not have the Beach Boys anywhere on there. That would be a travesty.



Today's Total: $37.97



That's not all that bad actually. I think yesterday's total was somewhere around $100, Saturday was only like $40...if it wasn't for the fact that I spent somewhere in the neighborhood of $1,500 on Friday we'd be doing pretty good the last couple of days. In retrospect I spent more in 15 minutes on Friday night then I did in the next three days combined. I need to think about that a little bit. Actually...I need to think about that a lot.

Probably.

The Monday Morning Foxhole: Of Stories And Other Things

First Off this guy is my new hero: Formula One Boss Caught In Nazi Orgy, because let's be serious here folks, I can fuck things up pretty well...but even I couldn't pull that off. I mean where do you even find Nazi Role Playing Prostitutes nowadays? That's so 1939.

Second, I watched Hitman and I Am Legend on Saturday. I thought they were both decent, not great, but good. Hitman was sort of clunky, I think it had something to do with the editing of the DVD version. I remember them cutting the movie from a hard R to PG-13, but this version I saw had a brief full frontal nudity shot, which last time I checked sorts things fairly certainly into the R category. It was also totally pointless and unnecessary which makes you wonder why they bothered putting it back in. Holy shit, I just complained about full frontal female nudity. Someone check and make sure my nuts are still attached. I Am Legend left me a little more confused. I'm fairly certain I've read the original novella that this movie apparently had nothing to do with. But for awhile I was certain that I hadn't. After talking about it with someone I realized I had read it, but now I don't recall if I liked it. See what I mean?

Friday night I hung out with Nick for a bit, but as is usual with him now he had to be home early so I was left (for the first time in ages it would seem) with actual free time and nothing to fill it. I was going to call some people but it was getting a little bit late for that. You can guess what I did instead of going home. In fact I didn't go home at all Friday night. That's right...I slept at my desk in the office again. Woe is me.

In other news I'm currently flummoxed by the riddle of obtaining things that can not be obtained, counting things which can not be counted, and discovering things which can not be discovered. It would seem that I am, colloquially speaking, broke as a joke. This of course wouldn't take into account more than a fair amount of "money" that I have squirreled away in several places, a certain amount of "money" that I have invested, another large sum of "money" that my company has invested, and a smattering of cash hidden in envelopes, tin cans, and hollowed out picture frames. Nevermind my expensive but worthless assetts including a fancy little collection of comic book memorabilia, various autographed sports memorabilia, a collection of letters from the Kings of Italy, several several hundred year old coins, and a 42 inch plasma television. Yet still for some reason, when I look at my short term prospects there seems to be a disturbing lack of solvency. If it wasn't for the fact that it's all sketched out with a fair degree of certainty, and the undeniable fact that I'm me, I might be worried. Thing is it's just tough to worry when you came up constantly broke watching your family struggle and suddenly you have the pleasant problem of having to break a $100 for a bag of chips at 7-11 because you never seem to have small bills.

I certainly have more to tell today, but shit's getting all stirred up here so I should go and squash it if I can. I'll be back with more later today, and will have a story about a gentleman I may have met this weekend.

UPDATE - As always the guys over at WithLeather have a much better version of the story linked above, with ten times as much video goodness:NAZI HOOKERS

dee-loo-ja-nal

tip-tap tip-tap

Where did your mind go?

tip-tap tip-tap

Where did your mind go friend?

tip-tap tip-tap

They're coming for you friend...

tip-tap tip-tap

They're already here...

Funniest Things I've Heard This Month

March 2008...the month that won't fucking end.

If nothing else, we've got a few good lines out of it...in no particular order.

"Have you met my brother, or as the girls at the Club like to call him Client #10?"

"It does get sort of tiresome going to sleep with a great wad of cash and waking up with three crumpled singles and a sticky ten dollar bill going "Where the fuck did that Ironman statue come from? And why do I smell like whore?"'

"If you have kids, do I still get all your stuff when you die?"

"That's a first. I've never paid $160 to talk about Harry Potter before."

"Everybody I'd like you to introduce you to Steve, my boyfriend from high school. And Steve I'd like to introduce you to my life partner."

"Where the fuck's my chinese food? Who took my chinese food?"

"More then none, less than all."

"If you dont' call me the fuck back I'm going to show up at your house and cause a ruckus just like back in the day. And it's going to confuse the shit out of your mom seeing as you don't live there anymore."

"I ain't complaining, but that would have been significantly less disturbing if she didn't look like she was thirteen years old."


Two exchanges...

"Well, yes, everything is fine."

"Except for the fatty liver?"

"Yes just a little bit of fatty liver."

"Like a smidge of fatty liver? A dollop? An iota?"

"What?"

"Just a little bit."

~

And...

"Dude, just think I get lucky tonight and you're going to have a bunch of little slant eyed nieces and nephews running around soon."

"That might be the most horrible thing I have ever heard you say."

"Really?"

"Nah, you're right. But that's still pretty fucked up."

And finally the quote of the year so far...

"If you won't grab my ass how do I know I'm doing a good job?"

That's all folks, and just remember: I couldn't make this shit up if I tried. See you when the sun comes up. Till then...Travel well.

Esoteria

VOICE IN MY HEAD:

Hello? Anyone there?

ME:

Why, hello Voice In My Head. Where the bloody hell have you been?

VIMH:
Oh, well, the others seemed to be having a bit of a go at you and I thought I'd keep aside and see what happened.

ME:
Abandoned me did you?

VIMH:

Oh, no, no. Nothing like that. I was here all along, I was just...quiet.

ME:

Well seeing as you're a disembodied voice and I am, despite all outward appearances, not totally batshit mad if I can't hear you...you're not there.

VIMH:

I suppose that's true. But that's all besides the point. How are you?

ME:

You damn well know how I am.

VIMH:

Yes. I suppose I do. You saw one of them today I take it?

ME:

Hmmm....

VIMH:

That barely audible growling doesn't work as well when you do it inside your head instead of out loud, you do realize that don't you?

ME:

Shut up.

VIMH:

No. I will not. You didn't know she was one of them did you? You thought they were gone.

ME:

I just don't understand them anymore. They're not as easy to see.

VIMH:

You just have to open your eyes my boy. They are all around you after all.

ME:

That's the problem they shouldn't be.

VIMH:

I suspect that the world is changing some. You need to learn to change with it. Simple as that. More and more may set your senses aflame, but that doesn't mean that they are of them. It was getting too easy for you, they've simply chosen to make your life a little more difficult.

ME:

Yeah, well, next time you see them. Tell them I said thanks for nothing.

VIMH:

Oh it won't be as easy as all that. You'll be seeing much sooner than I will I would guess. Much, much sooner.

lej-uhn-der-ee

"Have you ever killed a man?"

"No. Have you?"

"Not directly I suppose, but in the course of events I caused a good number of men have died."

"What's a good number?"

"More than none, less than all."

~

I wonder about myself sometimes. I really do. Picked up one of the new Randy Bowen Wolverine Statues today when I went to buy my Comic-Con ticket, you know to add to that collection I was totally finished with. Yeah, well, you know how it is. Technically the statue was on the original list of things but I'd cut it when I ordered the Wolverine Legendary Scale Bust which I cut when I decided the Earth X Logan Bust was good enough. This left me one space on my Wolverine shelf which this new statue now fills. So technically...but yeah, you know how it is.

I've been reconsidering my already six month long self-imposed Strip Club ban for two reasons, one I've been spending too much money anyway and two it's been six months since I've seen a naked woman and that's just remarkably gay. Like more remarkably gay than having a shelf full of Wolverine statues. Almost.

I also still don't know what the hell I'm doing next. I'm writing, but nothing I ever intend to do anything with. I'm trying to make time to hang out with my friends, but I've been busy and so have they. Hopefully the Antioch Team will get together mid-April for something and that will be nice. I just picked up a NY Comic-Con weekend pass so that's sort of something to look forward to, and hopefully I'll be able to meet up with my cousin James there. Events of yesterday only served to remind me how old we're all getting. My sister will be thirteen (shudder) in June. She complains I don't spend enough time with her, but soon I'll be the one complaining she doesn't spend enough time with me. I've been spending a lot of time with the Rookie, but we've really got to get him out and doing things on his own soon otherwise it will be more difficult later.

I'm due back in to the doctor a week from Monday, it's just for another shot and perhaps another test, but I've got to start giving consideration to a few things he and I discussed last time including the potential for elective surgery which I think is about the stupidest thing ever, but I don't know. I've always been fat. I sort of like being fat. I can't imagine not being fat, but the truth is in the last year or so I've gained more weight without really changing anything and if it keeps going like this it's going to be an even bigger problem than it already is. And with the doctor repeatedly floating the word "disease" around it's got me thinking. Maybe surgery isn't such a bad option. Maybe I just can't fix this on my own. Maybe.

Either way, I've got some more work to do. Maybe I'll go out on my own tonight, try and get myself in some trouble. Then again, maybe not. We'll just have to see.

Travel well friends.


~

"My name is Wolverine. I'm the best there is at what I do, but what I do isn't very nice." - Wolverine

No Shit Sherlock

Hob has been oddly quiet, I haven't run into her in several days. Coincidence? Must investigate.

~

In the wee hours of this morning, teetering on the brink of sleep, the sounds began to assault me. First the slamming of heavy doors, then the thumping of unhappy feet. The walls shook, and the skittering that came from within them told me it could be only one thing.

~

Eyes closed the visions of this other reality beat upon me. She should not be here, this is not her world. I try so hard to protect them from this, but it happens anyway. Have I failed? Or am I merely yet to succeed?

~

Suspicions of good news for someone else. Overjoyed. Good news for all.

~

Slip, slip, slipping away across the shores of...


~

Blessings of health for those who are unwell, blessings of contentment for those who can not rest, blessings of love for those who feel alone. That should cover all their bases.

~

Fought the good fight last night and won for the wrong reasons. Victory, when soured by happenstance, is no victory at all. For hours I fought with myself trying to find a peace that would allow me to not have to start again. I still have not found that peace, and now the war that rages within me is for my very soul. By sun up Sunday it must be settled. By sun up Sunday we will know how this story ends.

Travel well.

Purposefully Purposeless

I couldn't let my only post today be primarily about masturbation so I'll make this a quick one for the road.

Say you're always honest, always tell the truth, and the minute you know something for certain you are open and upfront about it. Now say you suspect something, you can't be sure, but you're getting more and more sure and more and more scared by it everyday. What's the honest thing to do? Talk about it even though you're not sure? Possibly hurt people because you're almost certain? Or keep it to yourself until your certain? Save the damage till you know it must be done?

Or is the entire question really just a cop out to avoid having to say something while still keeping up the pretense of honesty?

Damn...I need a drink.

Greatest Thing Ever?

Ah, Wednesdays. Payday. Gotta love it. Of course since I pay out roughly 40 times what I make on any given payday it can be a bit of a downer too.

Anyway, I think I may have mentioned that I've just opened a new savings account. I'm also going to take advantage of direct deposit and start putting some money in a safe place (besides the dog food can in my kitchen). I'm totally against saving money as anyone who knows me knows. What the hell is the point of working so hard if you can't enjoy what you've earned? But it does get sort of tiresome going to sleep with a wad of $10,000 in the can and waking up with three crumpled singles and a sticky ten dollar bill going "Where did that Ironman statue come from? And why do I smell like whore?" So "savings" account it is. In reality I'm saving up for absolutely nothing because I'll most likely kick the bucket before I have to worry about making a buck.

I read Earth X while I was stuck in the office all night last night, it was decent and I'll start Universe X today.

I was looking at Cracked .Com this morning when I saw a list of the most fucked up PSA's found on the internet. I found it funny because at #9 were the Canadian Workplace Safety PSA's I'm so fond of. But #10 really took the cake, it was an add from this website: http://www.taketheaction.com/

A website that for $47 will sell you an e-book that will help you stop masturbating. God bless America.

Now what I should have done when I saw this webpage was absolutely nothing. But what I did do was read the entire god damn thing and laugh so uncontrollably that for a good five minutes I couldn't even answer the phone.

It's got funny logos, flashy icons, testimonials from people with questionable initials in places such as "Qweebec, Canada", and even a little quiz to see if you have a masturbation problem. There's a section that implies that the porno mafia is trying to get the site shut down, a section that describes the method of discreet credit card billing (which porn sites use too in case you want to go the other way on this one), and a Q&A section so convoluted that it actually answers the question "Does masturbation cause cancer?" by saying "Not exactly."

Not exactly my ass. So to do my part to counter these nefarious bastards I will, right here and now, address their eight part argument about why masturbation is a problem.


1) Masturbation destroys your health
Nope, I feel fine.

2) You waste your valuable time on masturbation
Let's be honest, it's really just a pleasant way to break up the monotony of reading comic books and playing video games.

3)Weakens your ability to make money (since you spend most of your valuable time watching pornographic content and then masturbating)
Then masturbating? Someone needs to explain to this guy how this works.

4)Destroys your marriage or your relationship with your partner
I honestly think masturbation had nothing to do with this one.

5)Makes you feel guilty after masturbation (inferiority complex)
Nope. Next.

6)Prevents you from having better sex with your partner
If only masturbation was what was stopping me from getting laid...

7)Creates a negative psychology that can affect your business life
But it doesn't say if it affects your business life in a bad way...

8)Prevents you from making your life's dream come true (since you spend most of your valuable time watching pornographic content and then masturbating)
I just want to point out that the word "most" is used an awful lot here indicating that you spend the majority of your time masturbating. So if you spend 13 hours a day whacking it, these guys are absolutely right, you need help. If not, I defer to the wise and venerable T.O. Hob who said, "Most guys masturbate a lot, I masturbate enough."

So anyway, if you've spent the last several minutes reading this I apologize. You should be reading their website, it's much more unintentionally hilarious while I am quite unintentionally not.

Cunt

It has just been brought to my attention that the word "indiscriminatory" used in the last post is not, in reality, a word. Oddly enough I knew this already. And didn't care. Because it sounded good. So fuck off.

I frequently mangle the English language with the sole intent of making something sound better because half the time no one is reading this and the other half of the time no one can tell the difference between the words I make up and the words that are real, unless of course I slap together a bunch of nonsensical noises to make a word that is just plain funny.

So I put forth a remedy for anyone who may discover fabricated words in my writings. If they don't bother you, this post wasn't aimed at you so don't fucking worry about it. If they do bother you I suggest that you implement a simple act of substitution. Whatever made up word bothers you simply replace with the phrase, "Your Mother's Cunt".

That should do the trick.

The Old Ghosts Once Again

Funny how the things we can describe in greatest detail are often the things we want and not the things we already have. Desire is specific, while possession is vague and indiscriminatory. For instance with a hunger I want a turkey breast and American cheese sandwich. The turkey sliced thick and the cheese trimmed thin, on a hard and crusty bread with a slathering of mayonnaise a single frilly green leaf of lettuce and two big thick slices of the ripest reddest Jersey fresh tomato you ever did see, the type where the juice from the tomato mixes just a little bit with that mayonnaise and sinks ever so slightly into the soft underbelly of the firm yet fluffy bread.

I can not, with any such voracity, describe the meal I just had only a few hours ago.

It's the same way with the seasons. In the languid heat of early August I imagine with great desire the beginnings of any winter storm, the specks of snow twirling in the brief illumination of the street lamps as they fall. In fall, so often my favorite, the evenings growing shorter and cooler I long for those near identical days in spring time where the difference is found in the bending of the light and the knowledge of the days direction.

Familial moments with children I shall never have, familiar moments with friends who have long since forgotten. The bittersweet love you can only hope to see reciprocated. The knowledge that you have done the right thing, without any chance of the world sharing in it.

I can describe in immense detail nearly any conversation I have ever had, the words of others floating like lillies in a pond waiting patiently for me to pick them out of thin air and restore them to their rightful place in long lost confabulations. But it is in the construction of the endless conversations I have never had that my true wit reveals itself. I am rarely bothered by L’esprit de l’Escalier, in fact it is quite often the things which I said which haunt me most, and not the things I had not thought to say. When speaking I rarely think of things to say, no, no indeed. I simply choose amongst a long and varied list of things previously thought of. I do not have conversations, I create them. Bend them to serve my will, or to fly in its very face.

But, right now, they can not speak. Silenced by mine own voice, they sit quietly and wait, and plot, and plan. They will come some day, but it matters little...for I am here already.

~

The Lord is my shepherd I shall not want, The Lord is my savior I shall not need, The Lord is near we shall not stray.

For I will be the crying King and you shall be my Queen, and we will dance the numbered waltz on a shore that stays unseen.

In the end we do pretend that made of might are mighty men.

The King, the Queen, the paupers too, do tell the Lord what he shall do. Till God awakes and then He sees, what a fool the world has made of me.

So until the end of light, a kiss goodbye my sweet good night.

Notes On A Tuesday

I talked to Goldberg for a few minutes last night, and by talked I mean of course communicated online with so maybe it should just be communicated with instead of talked, but that just doesn't have the same sort of ring to it. So we talked. Just for a few minutes and in a typical conversation structure that showed exactly why I get along with him so well. He used the phrase "The Whore Bible" which I've co-opted as the title for the second "book" in the trilogy starting with "A Beginner's Guide To Amateur Stalking" and ending with "I Swear I Thought She Was Eighteen Officer: And Other Lies We Tell". Look for them on the shelves of your local bookstore in the Spring of 2018.

~

My mother has finished scrubbing all signs of Tim and I from the house, the last thing being the futon from Tim's room being removed. My mother wanted to get rid of it but didn't want to throw it out so Kevin and I moved it into my basement today. I don't know if I will ever use it. I know too much of went on in that room, much of which I must assume involved that futon. Maybe I'll just get a new mattress for it.

~

Speaking of mattresses, since I had Kevin to help me my mother asked if I could stop by an elderly man from the hardware store's house and move a mattress out for him. I agreed of course and even though she only gave me the gentleman's first name, I for some reason knew who it was right away. When we got to the house I was pleased to see that it was someone I knew from church, and it was good to see that even though he's really getting up there in age he's still kicking fairly well. It was sad though. He's a good guy. He's been living by himself in this little apartment ever since. He has a tough time moving around, always needs a cane and usually needs his scooter. I just can't imagine ever getting that old. Most likely don't have to worry about that, now do I?

~

Still haven't figure out what do for an Antioch Team get together, hopefully I'll think of something in the next day or two. Did talk (or communicate with as decided earlier in the post) to Adriana for a minute last night, which was cool because I haven't talked to (or communicated with as decided earlier in the post) anyone from team in weeks. Nick also finally gave me a call back last night. It probably had something to do with threatening to show up at his mother's house like we used to back in the day and bang on the window till he came out...of course since he hasn't lived there in months his mother probably wouldn't be too amused. We figure if we want Nick to be able to come out we need to call him 11 days in advance from now on. I wrote a neat little introduction to a short story I'll never write sort of as a writing exercise last night. It felt good to not just be writing, but be really trying to write again. It's been awhile. I'm finishing up the book I'm reading and will be starting on the Marvel Earth X comics soon. After that I'll probably read a history book and concentrate on finding a new author to follow, hopefully someone with a few books out already so I can rip through them all at once.

~

Anyway, I'm sure I'll write more today, and if you're watching you'll see some of it here. I've been having a hit or miss kind of month so far and am running out of time to get this one back into the solid win column. Maybe it's not possible, but that sure as hell ain't gonna stop me from trying.

Travel well friends. See you soon.

Experiments In Idiocy: Drunken Confessions of A Sober Man Part 1

Alright, so there's this girl. And like, she's cute as fuck. Like really cute. Like so cute you'd feel like babies were not as cute, you know, like as she was. Like even really cute babies. So she's cute. Get it? Really cute. And...I can't talk to her. I mean, I don't even try, 'cuz she's really cute. Like so cute. So cute it hurts. Hurts me. Not her. I don't think cute is painful for cute people. But for ugly people looking at cute people, for them it could be painful. I think. I don't know. She's really cute. Fuck.

~
What do you mean I'm not funny? I think I'm funny. Don't you think I'm funny? Oh wait, you don't. You just said that. Shit. Yeah I know, I'm a little...you don't think I'm even a little funny? Like a tiny bit? A teensy-weensy-itsy-bitsy little bit funny sort of? No? Come on. Stop, no...Come on. Stop playing around. You think I'm funny. Right? I think I'm funny.


~
She's not a whore. She's not. No. Really. I swear. I just like talking to her. Yeah she's really hot, but, I don't, like, want to...I mean, I would I mean she's hot so I definitely would, but I don't want to...I mean, like, I like talking to her. And it's not gay. Because I'm not gay. I mean not even a little bit gay. Like if there was a gun to my head, I still wouldn't. Probably. Maybe. Wait? What were we talking about? Oh yeah, she's not a whore. She's like a whore. But not quite a whore. Because she takes money, but she doesn't... And she's really hot, but she's really cool, and it's not like I'm trying to hook up with her or anything, I mean I just like talking to her. So she's not a whore. No. Your mom's a whore man. No. Fuck you. I love you man, but like as a friend man, because I'm not gay. I'm not. Fuck you. No, fuck you. I'm just playing. I love you man.

~
Wait, how old is she? No. Man, that's not cool. You can't do that. That's friggin' wrong dude. Wrong. I don't care man. No really. How old is she? That's fucked up. You can't do that. No, man, I get it really. I look at 'em too sometimes. Can't help it. But it's wrong man. Like, I don't know if it's illegal or not man, but it's not...what do you call it? Not socionomically acceptable or something. I don't know. Like, I ain't saying I wouldn't be your friend anymore, cuz like, we're good you know. We're boys. You know. So like we would still be friends and all. I mean, how old is she? Is she hot? Yeah? I don't know man. I mean if she's hot. But...I don't know. I don't got anything against old people or anything, but like, I'm pretty sure she could be your grandma or something.

~
That's, like, the best part. I mean at the beginning it's really good, like you can't believe how good it is, it's amazing. It's sweet man. And then it can sort of like get, like, not as good. Like not bad, but not as good, like you're almost sick of it, but then like, like it's when it's almost over, and you know you're almost done and it's tough to keep going, but like you just power on man, because you're so close, you just have to finish and at the end it's like awesome man. That's why I love pancakes man. I mean, I really love pancakes. You know what else I love? Women. You know what we should do, right now man? What we should go do right now? We should go get us some fucking pancakes. What about women? No, fuck 'em, I want pancakes.

Don't Wake The Sleeping Giant

So Easter was interesting. I went by my mother's house first then went out to dinner with my father. The restaurant we went to was nice, it's the same place my eighth grade prom was at. The highlight of the afternoon was my lesbian step-sister seeing her high school boyfriend from across the room, dragging him over to say hello, and then introducing the clearly flustered gentleman to her "partner" and her partner's family. It was all The Kid and I could do to not laugh our asses off. We didn't see a single person we knew there, which was sort of odd, but I guess most people did the holiday at home like I would prefer to do. It was a nice afternoon all around.

Last night The Rookie was so damn bored that he begged me to take him down to my office. I, of course, obliged. He was sitting there looking at The Collection, when he piped up and asked where I was going to put the rest of the stuff I would be buying. When I told him that I was pretty much done he looked so sad I thought he would cry. I think he really enjoys having input on stuff like what I'm buying and how I arrange it. I think he likes the fact that he has a couple pieces on his own and we have a couple of the same pieces. I think it makes him feel important at a time when his sister is starting get more freedom and responsibility and space to herself. and he's not. When I told him we needed to start thinking on what we would collect next he seemed pretty happy, so I'm going to have to come up with something we can both do together.

I've pretty much heard back from everyone on Antioch Team so I'll be setting a date for something in the next day or two. I've got to figure out what we'll be doing first, and I'd like to know what we're doing on June 7th by then as well. You know so we can lock that down for sure. It will be good to see everybody.

Besides searching for something new to collect and getting back to writing more I'm looking for a new hobby. It's got to be something that doesn't take up too much time, isn't too hard to get the hang of, and doesn't involve alcohol or go-go dancers.

So tonight I'm going to work late, maybe watch a movie while I work on payroll, write a short story just to get me started on something, and spend a little time reading. If anyone is around (although I doubt it) perhaps I'll grab a drink. And then, before I even try to catch some sleep, I'll spend a little time trying to breach the gap and atoning for my sins.

You know how it is.

Travel well friends.

Paranoid About Being A God

"What's that look for? Have you given up on me too? Tsk, Tsk. You should know better. We're not throwing in the towel on this one yet. We've got time left on the clock still, and there's nothing worse than wasting time you have yet to waste." - T.O. Hob

I'm not sure exactly what is going on right now. There's a shadow in my living room, watching every move I make, waiting for something to happen. Something that never seems to happen. There's a purple tinted javan rhinoceros that occasionally visits my patio, a look of forelorn bemusement passing across the face of this odd-toed ungulate as he putters back and forth begging for a bone. The silver haired specter that seems to accompany me everywhere lately has become more and more aloof, rarely departing his ever wandering perch to include me in his illusions of faith and delusions of grandeur. The Old Ghosts are gathering.

Something is up.

But this story...well this story isn't done just yet. This story's just starting to get good in that wicked scary way things tend to go all screwy all at once. See there are years that you remember, sometimes for good reasons and sometimes for bad. This year? This will definitely be one of those years. One way...or the other.

"Not so fast kid...the day is not over yet." - T.O. Hob

Soup

"Hi."

"Hi."

"You shouldn't be here."

"I know..."

"But?"

"But rightly I shouldn't be anywhere at this point, so if I'm going to be wrong by being anywhere I may as well be slightly wronger and be somewhere I want to be."

"You shouldn't be here."

"Why not?"

"This is wrong. What you're doing is wrong."

"I'm just standing here."

"I'm going to scream."

"I'm sure you are, I'm sure you are."

"no..."

"Oh fucking relax. I'm just teasing you. Why would I come here to hurt you? Why would I come back to hurt anyone?"

"What?"

"This is me we're talking about. Me! I couldn't hurt a fly."

"So why are you here?"

"I'm not."

"What?"

"Neither are you for that matter. Neither one us is really here. There's a good chance that neither one of us is anywhere at all."

"I don't understand."

"Yes you do, you understand perfectly well."

Blur

"You're doing it again."

"No I'm not."

"So that just happened by itself?"

"I'm not saying that. I'm just saying I didn't make it happen."

"What about this? She just happened to call you at that exact moment?"

"Could be."

"Don't think so."

"I didn't do it."

"What about him? I'm supposed to believe that he thought of that on his own?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Not in a million years buddy."

"I didn't make him think it, I swear."

"You're doing it again."

"Come on, I'm telling you I'm not doing it again. I'm not doing it again. We've been friends for this long you should believe me."

"Are you doing it to me? Are you doing it to me right now?"

"No...but you wouldn't know if I was now would you?"

SOOOOOO....

"Don't just stand there, shoot 'em ya donkey!" - "Sugar" Gil Scofield, The Shepard Miller Gang



I think Hob and I have been enjoying ourselves a bit too much lately. Just this afternoon we seriously contemplated knocking over a bank just for shits and giggles. We're getting entirely out of hand and if it isn't reflecting on our reputation it probably soon will. We'd be quite the pair if only there were two of us.

So last night I paid a visit, had a drink or two, ate some rather rotten tuna macaroni salad from 7-11, and passed out at my desk around 4 A.M. I'm slowly watching myself fall apart in all sorts of fun ways, and thoroughly enjoying every minute of it, but at some point soon I'm going to have to say that enough is enough. Gonna' have to consider some of my past sins paid for and start working on all new ones. I got a few in mind. They ain't quite friendly if you follow my meaning.

I'll be opening up a new savings account on Monday to start socking away some money to cover my future indiscretions. Like I always say there's a simple way of figuring if you have enough money. Figure on how much it would take to get you into proper trouble, then double that amount to make sure you have enough to get out.

I'm about to get clear of something awful though. One war or another that is. And if I don't...well, here's to hoping.


"Are you fucking kidding me? You can't think of two halfway decent things to say in the same day? Why you're about as useless as a Frenchman in a firefight. Now get out of my face before ya' make me sick like." - Shephard "Shep" Miller, The Shephard Miller Gang

I Am Quite Sure They Will Say So.

Friday. Wait...it's not Friday. We're all just acting like it's Friday even though I have to be in extra early tomorrow because just about everyone else is off. Ah.

I stopped by the Youth Ministry meeting, it was good seeing those kids. We talked about a simple trip in early May, probably just to see a movie or something of the sort. I also did get around to e-mailing the team and though responses are slow to come, I sincerely hope to at least hear back from all of them.

Three days after the fact I still find my gaze drifting almost constantly up towards Captain America's Shield. Often the other guys in the office will walk past my door, catch me glancing up at the shield and remark on how fucked up I am.

I'm reading a nice little book called The Monsters of Templeton, and as soon as I finish up that I'm going to start in on the Earth X series, then I think I might read some history books just for kicks. I've been watching the John Adams mini-series on HBO, and realized that it's been quite awhile since I've read anything historical about colonial times. So maybe I'll pick up something by McCullough, probably not John Adams, but maybe 1776.

I happened to notice yesterday that I've been exceptionally blog-lific these past two months. I've just been in a writing mood so far this year, and as I mentioned the other day I'm on the cusp of starting to write several stories I'm sure I'll never get around to finishing.

Tomorrow is my mother's birthday, hopefully I'll get together with the guys at least once over the weekend, and Sunday I'm going to split time between my mother's and my father's for the holiday. Things pick up a bit next week, and inspection isn't too far off. I'm still thinking of what I'd like to do for a vacation, and how long I'd like to go for, but the reality is I probably won't go anywhere at all. Not now at least.

Also, I've resumed my search for the Jument's Stone, which of course I'm fairly certain I made up myself so the chances of actually finding it (or even figuring out what it likely is) are slim to none. But since when has that ever stopped me before?

"Are you, like, a crazy person?" - Natalie Portman as Evey in V For Vendetta

Blueberry Dreams

As I often do just out of curiosity I googled the title of this post only to find that a great many things use the name Blueberry Dreams. A band, a crocheting style (or something like that), and a lip gloss. This is, of course, not about any of these things. It's just that I had a fantastic blueberry muffin from Dunkin' Donuts. Usually I toast them or have them buttered and heated up, but today I took it just plain and was surprised to find it actually tastes much better that way.

I only had one muffin as well. Usually I eat two. But that's something I'm working on after talking to the doctor. If I usually would eat three of something now I eat two, if I usually ate two now I eat one. If I ate one of something, maybe I don't eat it at all. I've cut back on soda a little bit, but that has proven harder than I expected. I already drank a lot of water, but I also drank a lot of soda. Most days I would have a hot chocolate in the morning, two cans of soda in the afternoon unless I ate lunch and then I'd have two with lunch. And then another two cans when I had dinner. Sometimes three. That's a lot of soda. Sometimes I would have an iced tea or two in there somewhere as well. Lately I've been drinking a lot of iced tea from 7-11. It comes in a half gallon jug. I'd drink a whole one in a day between the office and home, but then I wouldn't drink any soda. Either way that can't be good for you. So I've got to cut down on that too. My only (and not remotely serious) fear is that it's all the chemicals in these things that have been keeping me in good health despite it all, or like in that Mayo Clinic episode of The Simpsons where they tell Mr.Burns that there's a million things wrong with him that could kill him but that they're all sort of jamming each other up so that nothing can kill him. I'd be like that with Sprite. The carbonation is stopping the cholesterol from clogging my veins somehow, but the minute I stop drinking Sprite that cool clean water is going to push that cholesterol right into my veins. Or perhaps Rosenberg's Iced Tea from 7-11 has some kind of cancer inhibitor in it and when I lay off that all the second hand smoke I've been inhaling all these years will instantly form into lung cancer. I kid, I kid. Really.

Last night I stopped for gas at the Lukoil nearest my house, and recognized the guy pumping gas as the guy who used to pump gas at the Lukoil near my office. He was always real friendly, real nice guy. I asked about the other station, he asked what happened to my old truck. Just a nice guy. When I was leaving he said, "Have a good night Chris."

I was already out of the parking lot by the time I stopped to think about it. How does this guy know my name? I never introduced myself, don't know anyone else at that station, I pay with the company Lukoil card that doesn't have my name on it and there's zero chance you could guess my name by my signature. He wears a nametag, I don't. So how does he know my name?

That reminded me of this one time when I was in the Dunkin' Donuts I go to every morning and the counter girl said, "Anything else Chris?" And at the time I was just so pleasantly surprised that she would remember my name that I didn't think much of it till I walked out and thought, "How the hell did she know my name in the first place?" I can't ever imagine paying for a donut with a credit card, and I'm certainly too shy to have ever introduced myself. I know a lot of people that go to that Dunkin' Donuts, but how would I come up in conversation? So how did she know my name?

It's all got me thinking. How many people do I see everyday, all the time, whose names I don't know? Lots of people who work in stores I go to I recognize by their faces as the guy (or girl) from such and such a place. But how many of their names do I know? How many of them wear nametags that I never bother to look at? I remember most of the people at the bank, some of the girls and one of the guys in Dunkin' Donuts, a few of the people at the gas station, and a few at restaurants I go to on occassion. I never forget a face, and I'm pretty good with names, but how many faces did I never have names to go with?

I think I'll work on that too.

The Shield: And Other Stories From Another Day

It's finally here...


I know, I'm about the biggest geek in the world, but my Factory X Captain America's Shield finally arrived today and I've been sitting here smiling ever since. The Rookie came over to help me put it up and then we hung out on the yard and walked Tyson for a bit. I'm glad we're getting to spend time together lately, he spends entirely too much time at home by himself while my mother is out doing things with my sister and his father is at work. It's not good for a kid to spend too much time by himself like that. It can do funny things to you...trust me, I know.


My old man started complaining today about the amount of money I'm spending. As has been previously discussed here he hadn't really said anything yet. Previously he was trying to complain about the amount of money we're making, I showed him we're doing well. Then he complained about the number of vehicles we're operating, I showed him we were ok. Now he's out of things to complain about...so he complains about something he was ok with just the other day. Typical. Amusing, but typical.


I got to spend some time with my cousin James the other night, he's a great kid. He'll be going to USC Film School next year and I'm ridiculously proud of him. We spent a great deal of time talking about writing, something I do as a hobby and he'll hopefully do as a career. But even while we were talking I was brainstorming ideas. I'm thinking about writing a b-movie style thriller about twin brothers one of whom is murdered by a witch in infancy and whose spirit is cursed to split time with his twins spirit in the remaining body. I know it's a shit idea, but it should be fun to write...and when it stops being fun, I stop writing.

I was talking with somebody just a few weeks back about "chapters" or "parts" of your life. A sort of instinctual way of marking out your progress through the story that is you. For some people it's simple, you have your youth, your adulthood, and your old age. The beginning, the middle, and the end. Some people mark it off by time, my teenage years, my twenties, my forties, and so on. It could be your level in school or jobs you hold. It could be relationships your in or goals you've accomplished. For me it's how I feel. It's not an exact science. The Introduction was from birth until right about when I turned six, I might even use me hiding under the table at my sixth birthday party as the marker, the beginning of the story. Part One went from there right up until a snowy night in December of 2003, pretty much the night I started this. In truth Part One was really probably three or four smaller parts split into a million little chapters. Sort of like Lord of The Rings but with fewer Hobbits. Part One had started immediately after the introduction, but there was time between Part One and Two. Maybe a week, maybe more if I really think about it. Part Two only lasted six months, and while there certainly were many chapters it was really all one story. Part Three started a week after Part Two ended and ran just under four months. Sure it was a ridiculous four months, but after a part that lasted more or less 23 years two parts in less than a year was a bit much. Part Four was even quicker. By the end we'd just gone through three parts in about twelve months. Thankfully Part Five lasted a little longer, about ten months. Part Five was a constant battle with The Afflictions, those mental monsters who have haunted me most of my life. It's also where the tide started to turn in that battle. They pursued me well into Part Six and still rear their ugly heads every now and then, but for the most part, I've got them covered. Part Six started in August of 2005, and we're still in it now. May of 2007 I noticed it started to ebb, started to change, but it's still hanging in there. Parts could go for years once again I suppose. We'll have to see. We're in the twilight of Part Six, that much I'm sure of, but as to how long the night will be? I have no idea. And I'm sort of ok with that.

I don't know why I thought of that all just now. But I did.

I might just stop in at the Youth Ministry meeting tomorrow and see how the Antioch kids are doing. Might just drop the team a line and see if everybody is up for an outing right about now. But then again I might not. It hasn't been that long since I've seen any of them, but it still feels like too long.

Good Friday is coming up, which means it will be slow at work. Forti mentioned he has off, so if we ever manage to get a hold of Nick maybe we'll grab lunch or something. It used to be a rarity that a week would go by without the three of us getting together and doing something stupid or getting everybody else together to do something stupid. I can actually count the number of times the three of us have been in the same room in the past year. If I felt for a second that that changed anything between us that would be sad, but somehow it doesn't. Somehow it still seems all good.

So basically...I got Captain America's Shield. I got some ideas I'm working on. And I may just have some time off coming up in the next little bit.

Who knows what's going to happen next?

Travel well friends.

Pizza-Pizza: And Other Short Fictions That May Or May Not Be True

I answered the phone at the pizza place. The caller asked me what size pizzas we had. I replied 14 inch and 16 inch. He asked which was bigger.


~


I kissed the most beautiful girl in the world. Turns out she was coked out of her mind, and though the memory of that kiss is still crystal clear to me, to her its more like the ghost of a stranger. Haunting, unfamiliar, and not entirely real.


~


I watched a man die once through the back window of an ambulance. One minute the ambulance was speeding down the road, the paramedics frantically working to save him. The next they were doing nothing, and the ambulance was moving much slower. There was no longer a reason to rush.


~


I almost died in a car accident while walking down the street. I checked both ways and saw no one coming and head down began to make my way across the street, I took two quick steps for some reason and at that moment a pickup truck came hurtling around the corner barely missing me. It smashed into a mustang coming down the side street, the mustang spun around with such force that it hopped a curb, ripped past me, and came to rest back in the street. Everyone was fine, I continued on my way.


~


I saw a falling star while sitting on the bank of the Hudson River. It was May 3rd, 2000 and for some reason I was feeling awfully low. I was sitting there thinking about all sorts of different things that had happened in the past 12 months of my life when I saw a single bright orange streak shoot across the sky. Although I've seen a few since this was the first, and greatest, shooting star I'd ever seen.

~

I murdered a man with an axe once. Though I supposed murder would be an awfully harsh word since I don't even really know if I struck the fellow proper or not. So how's about instead of 'murdered' we just go ahead and substitute 'scared the bejeezus out of'. Did manage to cut my hand somehow or another while doing it and all these years later if it's really cold or you get a careful look and know exactly what you're looking for you can still see the scar on the back of my left hand.

~

I wanted to say hello to someone, but by the time I'd worked up the nerve they were gone. It wasn't that we weren't friendly, or even that any great deal of time had passed since last we'd spoke. Wasn't like anything at all had changed between the two of us. But there it was, something different. And though I spent a good many minutes thinking about just possibly saying 'hi', I never could bring myself to do it. For no darn good reason at all.

End of The Weekend

As I sat here at my desk tonight prepared to sum up a good, but brief, but interesting weekend I felt for a second like one of my favorite old tv characters ready to sum up a lesson at the end of an episode. A character who was wise beyond his years and always seemed to have just the right thing to say.

That's right: Doogie Howser, M.D.

And suddenly I had this brilliant idea. I would buy all the old Doogie Howser, M.D. DVD's and create a blog using only the things he wrote in his diary at the end of every day. For a second I was excited, only to find that once again...someone beat me to the punch.

The Personal Journal Of Doogie Howser M.D.

In retrospect it's such a brilliant idea that of course someone had it before me. I don't know who took the time to do all that, but I'm glad they did, because I probably never would have gotten around to doing it anyway.

Today as we finished lunch with my cousins I grabbed the check and picked up the tab like I tend to do. We had a bunch of loud little kids with us, Tim had been drinking entirely too much, and my mom and her friends were a headache too I'm sure. So when I paid the bill I made sure to leave a pretty substantial tip. We were difficult, it was a difficult day in a bar like that because of the St. Patrick's Day, and if a little extra tip makes the day a little better for the waitress who seemed like a very nice young girl, then great. What the hell would I have done with the money anyway?

Unfortunately it may have been too big of a tip, because the girl came over to double check that it was correct. She went to my mother and aunt, who didn't see how much I left and I didn't want them to see, but before I could say anything Tim pipes up and says, "No, no. You keep that." She says thank you, and Tim does his flirty thing. She tells him what time she's getting off of work, and comes back to do a shot with him. I'm nice, polite, and generous...Tim still gets the girl. Amazing. Hilarious of course, and totally expected, but still...amazing. We left Tim at the bar with the waitress...three hours later she shows up at my aunt's house because Tim borrowed her phone, stumbled out of the bar...and never came back. I go searching for Tim, give up figuring he's on the train, have my aunt promise the girl I'll find and return her phone, and head home. As I'm getting off the turnpike my mother calls to say Tim just stumbled into my aunt's house drunk as a skunk, happy as a clam, stuffing his face with chinese food. I volunteer to go retrieve him. I almost get a parking ticket picking him up, I get to walk back into the bar and bashfully return the girl's phone, he spends the next thirty minutes tearing ass in my car and complaining that someone took his spicy chicken away. Such is my life.

So...all in all a good weekend. Enjoyed myself Friday night, cleaned my kitchen with my sister yesterday, hung out with my cousins today and assisted Tim in another one of his drunken mini-adventures.

Not bad, not bad at all.

What's next boss?

Old Ghosts

Lo! 'tis a gala night
Within the lonesome latter years!
An angel throng, bewinged, bedight
In veils, and drowned in tears,
Sit in a theatre, to see
A play of hopes and fears,
While the orchestra breathes fitfully
The music of the spheres.

The god damn Old Ghosts are all riled up again. It seems to take less and less these days. Last night I found myself walking down a dark hallway, stumbling from dimly lit doorway to dimly lit doorway never quite being able to find the exit I only hoped I was looking for. I was tired and lost and ready to give up when I fell through a door into a room, and could not find my way back out again.

Mimes, in the form of God on high,
Mutter and mumble low,
And hither and thither fly —
Mere puppets they, who come and go
At bidding of vast formless things
That shift the scenery to and fro,
Flapping from out their
Condor wings Invisible Wo!

There was in this room a woman. A young and beautiful woman who seemed to be engaged in a convivial conversation with a small group of people whom I could not see. She acted in a manner which told me that either she was not where she thought she was or I was not where I should be. I could not hear what she was saying, could not see who she was saying it to, and for a moment could not think of why I cared either way.

That motley drama! — oh, be sure
It shall not be forgot!
With its Phantom chased forever more,
By a crowd that seize it not,
Through a circle that ever returneth in
To the self-same spot,
And much of Madness and more of Sin
And Horror the soul of the plot.

And then from the corners of the darkness from a place far more distant then the room would seem to hold, I heard a noise. A glass breaking. And with that noise opened an entire world, I could hear conversations from invisible party goers, the hustle and bustle of waiters moving back and forth among the crowd. A band played quietly...and I could hear the woman's voice. She was talking about me.

But see, amid the mimic rout,
A crawling shape intrude!
A blood-red thing that writhes from out
The scenic solitude!

It writhes! — it writhes! — with mortal pangs
The mimes become its food,
And the seraphs sob at vermin fangs
In human gore imbued.

I moved closer, she was talking about me, telling her friends who I could not see that I was on my way. Who was she? How did she know me? I was only a few steps away when she suddenly stopped talking. She looked off to the side and I knew someone I couldn't see was telling her something. Her face fell, the smile gone, and as her lip quivered she whispered, "He's gone?" And with tears in her eyes she turned away. We were pressed up against each other, I could feel the warmth of her breath on my face. "He's gone," she repeated and stared right through me. I heard a door open behind me and I turned to look. When I turned back she was gone. It was my turn to feel sad. I made my way towards that open door, and stepped out into the cold dark world knowing that they were waiting for me. Knowing there was more to be done.

Out — out are the lights — out all!
And over each quivering form,
The curtain, a funeral pall,
Comes down with the rush of a storm,
And the angels, all pallid and wan,
Uprising, unveiling, affirm
That the play is the tragedy, "Man,"
And its hero the Conqueror Worm.

- From Edgar Allen Poe's Ligeia

A Certain Kind Of Melancholy

Hmmm...

It is a known fact (at least known by me and sometimes assumed to have been noticed by others) that I have by bouts of what we would call an old school sort of melancholy. It's not depression, although I reckon I have those moments too in one way or the other. It's sort of just eh.

I'm happy right now. Happy for a lot of reasons. But this past week I've just felt off. Not bad, not sad, not mad. Just off. I feel like writing fairie tales and hanging out in old churches. I want to fashion a wand out of old matchsticks and pretend that it gives me magical powers. I want to hunt frogs in a pond where snapping turtles snap at your toes and large dark crows perch in the trees threatening to poke out your eyes if you stare for too long. I want to find a donkey and walk next to him in a field of thorny vines. I want to float. I want to fly. I want to be the highest of high. But I want to do it all without actually having to do anything. Or go anywhere. Or talk to anyone.

Do you see what I'm saying?

Off.

And hence the melancholy.

Maybe it's just an excess of black bile. Maybe it's God. Maybe it's just me.

Yeah. It's probably just me. Like always.

I've had too many moments lately. I know, I know, one second I complain about the lack of moments the next I complain about too many moments the entire time you have no idea what kind of moments I'm talking about.

It's hardly fair.

But try and keep up.

As a side note which encapsulates the last week for me: several months ago I said something to two friends of mine. It was an observation, a thought, more a suspicion than a fair guess. The only way to prove this would have been to directly ask the other person involved. This was not an option. It was such a minor thing though that it didn't really matter either way. Last night, through a strange series of events, I found out that my suspicion was correct. It was a weird feeling. It was something so inconsequential that I shouldn't even have remembered it. The only reason I did is because I thought I was right and had no way to know for sure. If there's anything I like more than being right, it's being certain. And so last night's validation of my suspicions about something that happened months ago was nice because it let me know I'm still sharp enough, but unfortunate because it was something I would have rather been wrong about.

It also led to a discussion of what I'm doing next, and the fantastic revelation that I'm not sure. I had a plan (and not a bad plan at that) I had seen a lot of what was coming, and I was either ready or getting ready for all of it. Last night I decided to toss most of that. Decided to reboot a little bit. I'm trying to pull out of a decidedly un-funk like funk with the realization that maybe this isn't a funk, maybe I'm supposed to be this sort of happy and maybe this me I am right now is the good me. And here I am thumbing my nose at it anyway, saying thank you very much but I'll take my chances with the little ol' me that I've always known. You go hang out with King, Rigby, Jones, Kong, The Hob, The Beast and the rest of them. I'm sticking around for a little while longer.

Funny how life works like that.

Capgras Delusion

Are you?

Is he?

Am I?

~
Cruelly the feeling that I had has dripped away.

Slowly the paranoia that rules others had crept back in.

Quietly I ponder the soft staccato of steps once taken that has led them here to my doorstep in the otherwise serene warmth of a barely departed afternoon.
~

There was that moment of laughter that I hang my hat on at the end of every day. That sound in a moment I would not have expected it that gave birth to a thought I had not ever cared to think. This idea that will not go away, that sneaks back into the ranging abscesses of my mind and proliferates unchecked by rhyme or reason.

Floating. Is the feeling. Longing. Is the concept. Perfection is the objection, as we all know so well. Replacing the people we know near us with these identical replications. These other sorts. Where has it gone?

Danger.

What?

New Rules and Schadenfreude

Two posts in one today.

Where do I start?

New Rules

• ** **** **********
• ** **** ******* ******
• ***** **** *****
• *** *** ****** *** * *** ** **** ******
• **** ***** * *******
• **** ******* ** **** **** ****** *** ****** ***

Ok, so, that's just a rough draft. I'm not too worried. I won't remember what any of that means in an hour anyway, but as I work on it, I'll set it in stone. My rules in stone...they stay in stone. I'm sort of a prick like that.

Schadenfreude

We'll start with my father coming back from Florida. I'm glad he's back, it's good to see him. He's still a vicious pain in the ass. He doesn't even pause before fucking things up. The more he can ruin in a shorter period of time the more important he feels. Good for him. There is very little he can fuck up that I can't fix. Just more work for me.

I've spent entirely too much of my own money in general lately. I don't normally think very much about it. I know how much I have and I'm careful to not spend more than I can afford to. That doesn't necessarily mean I spend the money on what would normally be considered appropriate things. I shudder at the tab I've run up in comic books shops, go-go bars, and a variety of online sites which "sell" everything from french new wave DVD's to the ability to track down the phone numbers and birth certificates of anyone in the country to the rare treat of watching some girl who probably should have stayed in school dance around in her underwear. Not to mention the tabs I've picked up at the bar, dinner with the church kids, and two ridiculous bachelor parties. Add to that the outstanding loans and dropping money on random bums, beggars, and charities and we're quickly approaching a rather obscene number before we even get into mortgages, insurance, and utilities. So yeah, I've spent entirely too much money lately. Know what I'm going to do about it? That's right. Nothing. Can't take it with you, and even if you could what the fuck would you do with it?

I've been pretty steady in the heady lately. A few moments of random insanity, a few fights with myself, but other than that...cool as a cucumber. Even when I'm all fucked up. I just need to regulate a little bit and I'll be doing as good as I ever do. Just need to sort some shit before it gets hot out. Just need to get some sleep.

Though I be sane, I be shot. A crude idea has surfaced in my head as of late. One which I have successfully fought off, but which keeps floating back up. I'm not ready to rip it apart and analyze it just yet, in part because I keep hoping it will go away, in part because I hope certain things will happen which make it irrelevant. It's a certain kind of salvation that sinners like me search for. It's a near certainty we never find it. And even if we did...what would we do with it?

I find the abyss in different places than I used to. There used to be days, and places, and people that sent me there. It's different now. There are days, and places, and people that drag me out. It's a nice thought. Comforting. But what's even greater is that I can control it myself. I can stop the descent, and I can climb out on my own. In part it's because I know that though I may not see them, or even talk to them as much as I would like, there are people out there. People who care, people who I can count on. Just knowing they are there let's me handle my shit all by myself.

But it's not quite so simple.

Sometimes I seek the darkness only so that I may appreciate the light.

I know, I'm a fool.

But...

Three

There have always been three.

I don't know why. I can't explain it.

But there have always been three.

I don't know why I'm writing this now, don't know why I've suddenly realized. I think it's because for awhile now I thought there were only two. But now I know better. Now I know.

It's always three.

I hate that fact. It makes me sick. Not because there are three of course, that's rather incidental. But of how I figured out the third, because of the third.

Fuck.

I'll keep struggling with it. Keep shouting it down.

It's still there.

I'm just learning how to control it. Learning that it is not true. It's not true. Not true. Not.

True.

Wiki-What?

I've just stumbled upon the most magnificent website ever, it's called wikiHow and it's based on the same wiki software platform as Wikipedia. As fun and informative and dangerous and evil as Wikipedia is this wikiHow bullshit is all of those things to the 10th degree. I love it.
Here are a few examples of things I've stumbled upon in my first few minutes there:

How to Dumpster Dive - wikiHow

This is the one I inadvertently ended up reading after following a link from another page. It reminds me of a funny story from when I lived in the Birchwoods. There were always bums sorting through the garbage. Usually they were outside the dumpster. One night I went to throw out my garbage and heard noises coming from inside the dumpster. I figured it was a racoon so I shouted a bit to scare it away, instead a tall older black man pops his head out of the dumpster looks at me quizzically, notices the bag of garbage I'm carrying, reaches out and says, "I'll take that." When I stand there staring for a moment he says, "Have a nice day." and quickly disappears back into the dumpster.

After reading that I just had to keep checking out the webpage, and I found these:

How to Be Less Perverted - wikiHow

or

How to Stop Staring at a Girl's Boobs - wikiHow

These two sort of jumped out at me, and just in case you can't pull those two off...

How to Check out a Girl Without Her Noticing - wikiHow

and

How to Enjoy Pornography in the Comfort of Your Home - wikiHow

I don't make this shit up people, I just find it and laugh hysterically. This next one is both specific, ridiculous, and brief.

How to Have an Exclusive, Long Term, Mature, Serious (& Healthy) Relationship - wikiHow

I know, I know...the How To Stop Staring At Girl's Boobs article was longer than the one on how to have a perfect relationship...just imagine how long the article on How to Have A Perfect Relationship AND Stop Staring At Other Girl's Boobs must be...oh, wait, you don't have to imagine because here it is: How to Get Your Husband to Quit Checking out Pretty Women - wikiHow

Jesus Christ.

And I'm pretty sure this site also informs you wikiHow to commit a major felony: How to Attract a Younger Girl That Barely Knows You - wikiHow

When did lollipops and claiming you've lost your puppy stop working?

But it's not all fun and games kiddies, wikiHow also advises you on how to confront some of life's most depressing topics such as:How to Live Without Friends - wikiHow

And hey if that doesn't pan out there's always:How to Cope on Days When You Feel Like Hanging Your Self - wikiHow

So in conclusion, I'd just like to say...What the wikiFuck is wrong with these people? And in a user based evolving internet community such as this by these people I mean of course us, and by us I mean of course YOU. Well not you. But everybody else.

COMPLETION

In a whirlwind turn of events I am finally on the verge of acquiring a Factory X Captain America's shield. It is purchased and paid for and now I'm just waiting for it to arrive. While this is absolutely fantastic as far as I'm concerned it's also a little bit sad. I've mentioned several times before that my collection was "essentially" complete, and what that meant was that I was still tracking down one or two big pieces and was simply buying smaller stuff that I ran across in the meantime, usually stuff I ran across while looking for the last big piece.

Last week I picked up a few Spider-Man type pieces to fill that shelf, and that was the end of that. I picked up a few Wolverine pieces to fill that shelf and though I may have space for one more...I may not bother. I picked up three or four pieces for the Rookie and now he's pretty much covered. The first Thing statue from Sideshow arrived last week and as fantastic as it is that one was his. Mine should be here sometime before the end of the month but it looks like it might be too big for the case so I would have to put it on the shelf. I had just cleared a space on the wall figuring I would hang one big picture there when I landed the Factory X Shield, which will now take up that spot. I wrote a few weeks back about ordering a full size Iron Man Bust and a Hellboy 2 version of the Samaritan, but I'm not real sure where I'll be putting those...so I might cancel them. One of the guys I buy off of owes me one small piece, but now that I've acquired the Shield...I'm done searching. Which means I'm done collecting unless something really cool catches my eye.

It's sort of sad, it was a cool hobby. Ok, well, not cool. But fun. I liked it.

It's nice though to know that once again I've gotten everything I set out to get and am done. I think next hobby I'll work a little slower on, make it last a little longer.

Postscript:
My old man is coming home tonight. He's probably going to stop by the office. He's not going to be happy. Knowing him he might just smash the whole thing to shit. I could stop him of course...but if that's the way he decides to handle things I'll just let him, and probably enjoy the show. And then of course start over again the minute he's gone.

Conversations or Fuckity-Fuck-Fuck-Frig

"Yeah, I'm not feeling too well this morning. So if you need me get me on my cell instead of the office."

"Fine, what's wrong?"

"Nothing really. Just a long weekend."

"Work stuff?"

"No. Just shot. Big storm the other night, lost power. Tree fell down in my driveway."

"Yeah. There are a lot of trees down in Ridgewood."

"What?"

"There are a lot of trees down in Ridgewood."

"Where are you? How do you know there are trees down in Ridgewood? You're supposed to be in Florida."

"Uh. Yeah. I'm not in Ridgewood I just heard there were trees down..."

"But?"

"I'm on my way back right now. I'll be back tonight."

"Fuck."

It's a good thing he's my father. Otherwise I'd kill him.

~

"Hi, Mr. Palomba?"

"Yes?"

"This is ***** from Dr.*******'s office, how are you today?"

"I was good."

"Oh, well, we just got the ultrasound results back and he wanted me to give you a call and let you know that there was a little bit of fatty liver."

"What?"

"Just a little bit of fatty liver."

"There can be just a little bit? Maybe this wasn't explained to me properly."

"Oh, well. It's just that you need to cut down on carbohydrates and sugars."

"Is that all?"

"Yes. Just watch your diet. Did you get your bloodwork done?"

"For the tenth time, yes. But I was told everything was ok."

"Well, yes, everything is fine."

"Except for the fatty liver?"

"Yes just a little bit of fatty liver."

"Like a smidge of fatty liver? A dollop? An iota?"

"What?"

"Just a little bit."

"Yes, just a little bit. Thank you. Goodbye."

"Yeah, thanks."

It's a good thing the girls in that office are cute. Otherwise I wouldn't put up with this confusing the hell out of me shit.

Legerdemain And The Daylight Savings Conundrum

My Reputation Processes Me...Precedes Me? Proceeds Me? Something Like That.

"Hi there, what's your name?"

"I'm *****."

"It's nice to meet you *****, I'm..."

"I know who you are."

Really? Ree-hee-hea-ly?

Is that what this has become?

Has The Magnificent Mr.Hob becomes The Infamous T.O. Hob once again?

Am I letting him get entirely too out of hand?

Whichever Way The Wind Blows Last

Last night as I sat at my mother's house talking with my little brother the wind and rain kicked up so fantastically that things in the backyard began to blow away. It had been rainy and windy all day so at first we were not too concerned. And then, rather suddenly, we heard a short loud buzzing noise outside and all the lights in the house got really bright.

My stepfather and I right away realized a transformer had blown either up or down the block and moments later we could see the sparks and fire from down the street. And entire power line was down and something appeared to have caught fire. After convincing my mother how foolish it would be to walk towards what was apparently a live downed power line "just to see what was going on", I dodge fallen trees all the way home.

I got out of my car and went inside to get ready to go out with the guys. The power went out for a mintue, but came right back on. When it was on for a few minutes I threw a load of laundry in the wash and hopped in the shower. I had just lathered up when the power went out.

My bathroom doesn't have an outside window, so now I'm in the pitch black. If I open the door the fire trucks and cop cars outside would shine some light in, but then everyone could see right into my bathroom as well. I try to rinse off before the water shuts off (god damn wells) but don't quite make it. I finish washing up using a bottle of Poland Spring water and a god damn flashlight.

I head out of the house to go finish cleaning up at the office when I'm confronted by quite a sight. I don't know how I missed it on my way in, but apparently a tree from my neighbor's yard came down...right into my driveway. Luckily it didn't damage any cars, but now I have to figure out how to get an enoromous coniferous tree out of my driveway tomorrow morning.

The power was out till about 4 A.M. which meant that I only had to reset my clocks once for daylight savings time...there's always a silver lining.

Sunday Holiday

I had off today. Like really off. Not like that shitty work a few hours sort of off. Like not having to be in the office at all (until now of course) sort of off. It was nice.

I got some rest then headed down to New Brunswick to meet up with Goldberg for dinner. I got down there a few minutes early so I could take a look at the town. I like to drive past all my old places when I'm there. 61 Richardson was the same, 104 Guilden had siding now but was pretty much the same, and the Birchwoods at first glance seemed to never change. I was thrilled at how easy it was to instantly feel at home even though it's been quite awhile since I was there on a regular basis. But as I pulled into the Birchwoods parking lot I was accosted by a rather unpleasant sight.

The empty lots out back, the ones my window always faced, the ones that were the subject of one of my favorite pictures...are gone. Or more appropriately filled. Where there was previously nothing there are now these huge luxury apartment complexes. I almost gagged.

Changes, eh?

So I met up with Goldberg for dinner and it was really good to see him and talk to him in person. When we finally called it a night I drove him back to the student center to get his car. When he gets out he says, "Hold on I have something for you." If I hadn't been sitting down when he opened his trunk I swear I would have fallen over, because there, after so many years is the bulletin board from the WRSU News Room the one that I had adorned with pictures of our first WRSU News Dinner over four years ago. The one which I had put the dopey label of "WRSU News at Play" on. Goldberg had lifted it for me. It's one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me. I have no idea what I'm going to do with the damn thing, but I'm ridiculously glad to have it.

All in all...an interesting weekend. Travel well friends.

I AM...

...IRONMAN!

And a ridiculous f*ing dork if I do say so myself. Anyhow...Daylight Savings has sort of snuck up on me, clocks jump ahead an hour in about 8 hours and though normally I have a "Something Something and the Daylight Savings Conundrum" post all set to go I'm not sure what that "Something Something" will be. Going to meet up with the guys tonight if I have any luck. It will be good to see them, it will be the first time we've actually gone out all year. I saw a few of them at Superbowl, but now we'll get a chance to chill and bullshit. It will be good.

I'm supposed to meet up with Goldberg tomorrow, but we never really set a time and place so I'll have to give him a call tomorrow and see what's up. I haven't seen or talked to anyone from Antioch in a week now. Already getting that hollow feeling inside I tend to get when something begins to go wrong. But with all the shit I've come out on top of this week, what's one more thing? I got this shit on lock. No, really. Swear.

The night we went into daylight savings we started by hanging out in Wizards. We were busting Jerry's chops about whether he was going to stay open to the first 2 o'clock or the second. We left there and went to the post (it may have been only the second time we'd ever been in there). I remember as we stumbled out we joked with the bouncer, "But it's only 1:30 you guys are open for another hour!" to which he replied quite simply, "Get out."

Yeah. Shit story. But it's been that sort of week, and that sort of day.

сука?

"One thousand pounds for an elephant? It's outrageous! You've been diddled."- Cedric Hardwicke as Sir Francis Gromatry in Around The World In 80 Days

Yes. Yes I have been diddled. IF by diddled we mean thrown for a loop once again of course. In a good way perhaps?

Last night I felt ten feet tall. Last night I ruled the world. I shouted down Hob and all those other inglorious bastards and battled my way to the top of the mountain. Of course the top of the mountain looks an awful lot like the bottom of the mountain, but who am I to argue?

And Hob got his shot in. It was quick and painful and I'll hold it against him till the day we die, but he got his shot in fucking cunt that he is.

I told three stories last night that I haven't told in years. One that I may never have told. I ended up in a place I didn't expect to be in having a conversation I never expected to have. It was another one of those fantastically horrible "What the hell am I doing here?" type of moments.

I miss the days that there used to be more of those.

This is the exchange happened near the end of a conversation I had last night:

"I don't expect much, I don't want much. When I'm bored I have things I can go do. When I'm lonely I have people I can go see. I have enough money for everything I need, and for the things I want usually. And if I don't, I work harder so that I will. I've got it pretty good when you think about it. So no, I don't want much."

"Maybe you want so very little, because you already have so very much. But...who are you really trying to convince?"

"Ha...yeah."

And for once I wasn't the one saying the smart thing.

Sometimes other people play you like a fiddle. Sometimes the world does it for them. What's the difference though? Everything we want we pay for. Sometimes it's with money and other times it's not. But make no mistake we pay either way.

And it's usually worth it.

"Undoubtedly. But it's not often one needs an elephant in a hurry." David Niven as Phileas Fogg in Around The World In 80 Days

Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

"Who got my back? In the line of fire holdin back? What? My peoples if you with me...where the fuck you at?" - Method Man in Wu-Tang Clan's, Triumph

Back's against the wall Hob, what are you going to do? I ask, but I already know. I know where you will be tonight, know what you'll be doing. I just don't know how you'll feel about it afterwards. How you'll go on tomorrow knowing what you did tonight. I know you Hob, you act like the aftermath doesn't bother you. Act like you don't feel bad about the wreckage you leave behind...but I know. You end days like today this way so you can feel bad about it later. You shit on something good so that no one else will get a chance to. You fuck it all up so it can be fucked up on your terms. I get it. I really do. So go ahead Hob, you just go ahead and do what you're going to do. And I'll wait right here to fix it all when you're done. Just remember buddy...me and you, we're exactly alike. We're thinking the same things too, it's just that you think it's right, and I know it's wrong. So go ahead, do what you have to do tonight. I won't even fight it. I'll let you win the little battle tonight, because tomorrow Hob...I win the war.

"One of us, equals many of us. Disrespect one of us, you'll see plenty of us."- Guru in Gang Starr's The Militia

SuperFREAK

Ah...me.

I really am something else.

So I went in for an ultrasound this morning. Doesn't "ultrasound" sound like it should be something cool? Something fun? The word "Ultra" just seems to me like it should always be applied to things that can fly or shoot lasers or preferably both fly and shoot lasers. Instead it involves some goop and two fairly attractive ladies staring at my fat gut for fifteen minutes while they poke and prod me, occasionally telling me to hold my breath and looking disappointed when I finally have to breath again.

I got to the office this morning and it looked like I was one of the first patients there. Nurses and techs were still filtering in behind me. They ask me to fill out some papers, which of course I do with my usual sense of style and panache. When I get to the questionnaire about health problems I skip through it checking "no" at every box. Until I get to the one that says liver problems. Conundrum. What do I check here? Do I check no that I don't have any liver problems and then maybe they're not concentrating on that so much, or do I check yes that I do have a liver problem and then they focus on it too much. I don't know if I have a liver problem. That's why I'm fucking there. I don't check "yes" or "no". Instead I begin to write, "You tell me." but then quickly reconsider the harsh tone and scribble next to the question, "Don't know, sure hope not." This seems satisfactory to me.

A nice older lady calls me in and introduces me to two younger fairly attractive ladies who she says will be "performing my ultrasound." Yes, I think, an ultrasound does sound like something that should be performed. And anything that should be "performed" should be "performed" by at least two younger attractive ladies. All would be right in this world if that were so.

The lady who seems to be the tech gives me one look, looks at her table and shakes her head, "Before you start stripping down, I'm really sorry to ask, but how much do you weigh?"

To which I reply rather cooly, "Don't worry. I have excellent cholesterol."

I'm still rather cautious while laying down on the table.

As I lay there she says, "What are you here for today?"

I want to scream at the top of my lungs,"Shouldn't you fucking know that already?"

What is it with people in doctor's offices having no friggin' clue. Do they not have paperwork that tells them about a patient anymore? Do they just not read it? Are they just making really lame attempts at making conversation? It's been raining for three days, ask me about the weather, don't ask me why the fuck I'm here and make me question whether or not you're remotely competent to be doing what you're doing.

As she gels up my belly I eye the machine and reply, "I just want to know whether it's a boy or a girl. God, I hope it's not twins."

Nobody laughs. They've probably heard that one before.

Now she's jabbing me with this thing that's wet and gooey and sliding around in the goop which is covering my ridiculously hairy stomach and all I can think is, "I shouldn't have worn a new shirt."

She keeps telling me to hold my breath and I'm beginning to think it's just because the machine is having a hard time penetrating my fat. But then I start thinking maybe she just likes watching people slowly asphyxiate because every time I stop holding my breath, she looks upset. One time she actually says testily, "Did you start breathing again?"

To which I reply, "Sorry. Had to. Survival and the whatnot."

I'm beginning to think doctor's hate me as much as I hate visiting them.

She finally says, "Almost done."

I ask if she "sees anything". I mean anything wrong, she thinks I mean anything at all. So she says "yes" then noticing the quizzical look on my face she quickly corrects herself and says "no", but then to further muddle issues she says, "Well nothing serious." Which means to me something is wrong, but nothing major. A moment later I'm done and she says that nothing is wrong at all as far as she can tell, but that the doctor needs to look at things. She says sit tight while she goes and checks the photos. I spend a few minutes with some water and paper towels trying to remove the goo from my stomach and shirt, I'm just finishing when she returns with the nurse. She says, "Everything looks good. You're good to go." Which I take to mean I'm ok, but could just mean that the photos came out nicely, either way I'm not sticking around for further discussion so exactly 34 seconds after she says the word "go" I'm sitting in the front seat of my already started Hummer getting ready to pull off.

So now I just have to wait for the official word from the doctor and I'm all set. If the ultrasound comes back totally clean then we will have reached an unforseen conclusion.

I won't just be ok.

I'll be relatively healthy.

Who'd have fucking guessed?


Brief Postscript here...as I was getting ready to hit "Publish Post" on this one I got a phone call from the doctor's office telling me that my bloodwork came back all clear except that I'm not immune to Hepatitis B. All clear. As in nothing with my liver enzymes. She says I need an appointment to come in and get my Hepatitis B Vaccine. Thing is I was in yesterday to discuss that my bloodwork was not all clear hence the ultrasound and fatty liver disease discussion, and I got the Hepatitis B Vaccine yesterday. So why the hell are you calling me and telling me that the results you told me had a problem yesterday don't have a problem today? It's the same results. I have the same paper in my hand right now that the girl in the office does. This is what happens when you hire girls to work reception just because they're really cute. Really cute. I can do nothing but laugh.