ORA-LOVE IN AN ELEVATOR

This morning I had an experience to remember in the elevator, having just been subjected to a very sad occasion on a wet, lukewarm fall afternoon the day before. When I found out about it, I teared up. I liked this guy’s comic genius and I wanted to hear more of it from him, but his diabetes and stroke had other intentions.

It was learned he passed away at 7am, 11.29.11 and he was 41. His name was Patrice O’Neal, a hilarious comedian and actor, and his delivery was one of a kind. He told truths in different ways and allowed his timing to keep you in the moment for the full hour he was on stage. His presence (6’5” (?), 300+ pound man) would be disconcerting in a dark alley, but his smile and diastema made him seem more like Gentle Ben. His subject matter was off-putting for some, while others laughed with him.

Patrice had a special called “Elephant in the Room” on comedy central earlier in the year and he talked about among other things sexual harassment, so the occurrence in the elevator was slightly relevant, well, to me. When a comic dies it hits me HARD, because I know their material and love what they do for a living. They pull me out of a deep hole of depression and there’s no way of saying thanks for that. So a quick payment of respects, if even for a minute, is beyond warranted. There are some entertainers who just memorize other people’s words from a page, go through the motions, and get $20 million a picture. While others who use their own words and start in the filthy comedy clubs that one out of a million make it. Heck, the odds of making it is probably even worse than that.

Patrice was at a show in the audience and he was one of those hecklers that, when a comedian had enough and said “you think you can do better???”, he got out of his seat to prove to the comedian that indeed he WAS and worked the club the next week. It was learned yesterday that THAT was his first experience on stage.

but Patrice had a way of explaining the feelings in his own words that people don’t generally think of when thinking of different subject matter… for instance: sexual harassment. To paraphrase, he said something like this to compare having women work with men but not allow men to harass them: “its like grizzly bears working with salmon… … … covered with honey…” and if you so much as smelled the fish they were off calling HR and having you fired.

I had just watched his “elephant” special yesterday as a way of remembering his genius, and I stepped on to an elevator with two women. This morning I decided to wear my blaze orange knit hat over my cap. The woman standing in front of me had an orange knit sweater on and had struck up a conversation with the woman standing behind me. The woman behind me said to me “you should take off your hat and give it to her because you two match…” and the woman in front of me said “yeah that would be nice”… but I responded to the request by saying “right but if I asked you fto take off your sweater because we matched I’d be getting a call to HR”… the elevator doors opened and they had such a laugh because, well, it was true.

Anyway, I am no Patrice O’Neill, nor O'neal, nor am I a comedian… but I know the man will truly be missed.

III

mailer-daemon... its time for murder.

so i send out a "hey facebookers, check out my blog" email and the usual suspects decide its the right time to respond... kara, kristin, kiwi, you know... the favorites. still waiting for all the state workers to reply (if in fact this is not a blocked site) and they will eventually...

but when you send out a mass email to friends and family you always get a notice of who in fact did NOT get the email. for free no less... and that daemon guy seems to always have his finger on the trigger the second i hit "send"... he's always there no matter how long your email is to tell you "don't bother asking Bill what he thinks of your email cause Bill moved on past you and decided not to send you an update of his email address so just make it known to your shitty life that Bill isn't in it anymore..." ipod contacts: delete Bill.

is there any wonder why the USPS is going out of business? i liked throwing my mail into the mailbox, reopening that tiny door to make sure gravity still worked, and letting my letter go far and wide across the country to anytown, USA... and like clockwork it arrived there. and just like your swatch, or um, rolex, the battery sometimes died in the USPS's clock and your letter was basically a message in a bottle waiting to be found. the greatest thing though was that noone was there to tell you it wasn't delivered. at that point its their fault.

i think this daemon guy's message needs to be corked and sent on his wet, wild, merry voyage, and leave us believing that everyone always got our emails, so we always feel good inside, like the USPS does... this is a free service provided by daemon, which is not far from "damian". (err, lucifer himself...that book's darth vader. . . maybe it'd be better if james earl jones told you your email didn't make it... )

yet usps is going away slowly but surely, unlike the price of stamps, which never goes down. imagine if your reply to the publisher's clearing house had the golden ticket yet some dude dressed like chuck cranston after the big fight with wren showed up at your door to tell you ed mcmahon wasn't around the corner with balloons for you... you'd wanna kill him too.

III

Mark Twain Awarded the George Carlin Award for Wordsmiths…

Well, that’s how I saw it. Sittin here with Gibbee watching the George Carlin ceremony to win the Mark Twain award for American Comedy at the Kennedy Center on WITF… What’s more funny than a dead Kennedy right? Carlin of course!

as I watch I am inspired to write… I dunno why. Gib is off having a smoke while giving me a moment to think and I decided to grab the laptop. Why? I dunno. I guess I am better on paper, err, in pixels…

What is it in the back of the throat that twists your heart in two and makes you decide to not swallow anything… air, water, nothing can get past the emotional throat choke. But when you don’t feel like crying or are with your uncle knowing you would look like a tool bitch crybaby for doing it while watching a comedy presentation… the complete opposite of why comedy is put on… at 35 I might add… that tight back of your throat is telling you something: As long as you don’t cry this will hurt.

Point is I feel like writing because I guess George always made me feel better. When I was younger and was going through my parents fighting or my parents divorce, or going to a new school where all the kids made fun of me or going home to a tumultuous home life of a sister crushing my spirit more than the kids at school did, I always had George to remind me to laugh once a day and get this shitty feeling to leave if even for a minute. George reminded me to keep my head up during the hard times and like Mike Hill he inspired me to find the funny in just about anything. When you laugh at natural catastrophes and humanity going to hell you know where your sense of humor is. Beyond the gutter, even beyond the grave. If that fictional place of hell had its own hell, there is where you’d find my sense of humor. In there, as a rapper named DMX titled his CD to remind you: It's dark and hell is hot.

I remember in 2008 just before George’s special for his twain award came on it was learned he passed away. I felt lost. I felt tossed out from the boxcar of life and tumbleweeded down the oily tracks and my world as I knew it stopped. I didn’t just lose my comic icon or the world’s greatest wordsmith… I lost my friend, my uncle, my reason for having my sense of humor… … … and the throat choke gets tighter… I remember I wore black for three days and sulked in my chair at work. People would walk past me, the weird quiet guy who didn’t talk to anyone at work, and asked what the problem was because I looked like my puppy died. I guess it was written on my face. I lost that voice in my head who reminded me to see whatever it was and find it funny… remember I am not even related to this man nor have I ever met him, he just reminded me that there’s more to life than people shitting on you.

What brought me out of it? Well, George of course. As I have told Christine Stanisec I decided one day (I guess the third day) that George needed resurrected. My savior from the hell I was living under needed saved himself… the throat loosens… so I threw in my collection from the VCR tapes to the CDs to their respective players and listened. I laughed, I cried, I felt emotionally discombobulated as ever, and at that moment I knew I was ok. I was back to “normal”, whatever that meant... I went back to orange or any other clothing I had on and decided the emotional feelings I was going through was done. I had to remember him in life instead of in death and go from there.

Remember to laugh at least once a day. They say “An apple a day keeps the doctor away”.  I say “A laugh a day keeps the psychologist away…”

Thank you Ge--- err, excuse me, Mr. Carlin.

III

GRAY MATTERS

ever think of writing a book?

first what is it going to be about, the subject matter?

is it fiction or nonfiction, and which one of those means true or fake? (i can know the answer of that question and walk into a library or a bookstore, err, do a search on my ipod and have no idea which side of the aisle to be on).

finally, thinking of everything even before word one is written, sometimes a title is best to know in the beginning. . .

so i am thinking of writing my (true) adventures from writing this blog, personal history, BS BS BS, emails i have written to my family, and general thoughts and insane dreams of a person with depression. i feel its important to understand what this is like because if people knew what clinical, suicidal depression was like and not just know how to treat it, it may get more attention and possibly a cure. instead of giving more money to pharms for meds that just make you more depressed and/or suicidal. (i believe the suicide part is intensified when you are on any particular med that said it would be the panacea to your ailment and it turns out to be a fictional story by big pharm.)

anyway, i decided on a title for the book of short stories and thoughts and decided to call it "Gray Matters".  (BTW google is saying its spelled gray or grey but it depends on where you are writing it from. the UK thinks they're so above REAL english. . . american slang.)

above all else when you have ass pain while excreting solid waste it makes you realize how good you had it ten minutes ago.  after a while if the pain continues, you eventually have to get your ass split so its easier for the solid waste to be released from the trap door. i had just gotten out of the hospital and went to the drug store for some drugs and walked to the back of the store for my prescription. i stand in front of the counter waiting with my new acquisitions of metamucil and tucks medicated pads (bring on the late thirties!) and i see there's a rack of books waiting to be bought. what is the one that i see? "How to Deal with Annoying People". i decide against buying this book due to the fact that a sober me is terribly annoying and i will just notice how other people deal with me vs how i'd deal with other annoying people. i put that book down and spin the carousel... guess what i need at this point...?



a new title. although as i reread this one immediately while watching "modern marvels' history of snack foods" i think of better title yet it has a few connotations... hopefully i won't need to go back to the drug store and see a new book on the rack called "Blue Matters"... thinking more on the depression side of blue vs a comedian who works blue.

ISN'T IT IRONIC?

As I sit here on the eve of my 35^th birthday, I see a few things that are Alanis-ly funny…

1. I watched the first installment of Ken Burns’ "Prohibition" documentary. Generally watching anything having to do with imbibing in a particular drug or vice I like to do that vice such as heroin or crack cocaine. Although this night the crackhead decided to stay at home, indoors, and away from the upcoming storm. Plus, it’s been 2 years and 8 months since my last drink and since alcohol prohibition has such a stronghold on me personally, I decided to watch it in the fullest sobriety I know of… (minus a few halves of legal heroin, Vicodin.)
2. When the first installment was done I decided to watch the final innings of game 7 of the world series. A baseball fan I am not, I am though a fan of a band from St. Louis called "Pokey Lafarge and the South City Three", so I was pulling for St. Louis, even though these are the only full innings of baseball I have seen all season. The odd part you ask? They were playing at Busch stadium. After just watching a documentary on prohibition, I am watching a game in a stadium named for beer. As I texted with a friend, "mymymy how times have changed". 

Don’t you think?

100 years from now it will be a stadium named after cannabis.

CARLY-TOE'S WAY...

ONCE AGAIN, CLEARING OUT EMAILS, THIS ONE WAS CLASSIC...

so here's a recap story from my weekend trip to the hershey theater. call me old school because i'm the only one that refuses to be on facebook, call me old fashioned because i won't send out 40 letters educating the masses (and making the disgruntled ones broke), but a word or 2 must be said about a young ballerina i saw perform on the stage in front of hundreds...

but first more about me...

i woke up sat morning and watched some of the aussie world cup match and texted with timmy about what a hand ball was. apparently it is any part of the arm at all, not the hand itself. i only played soccer for halftime as a kid, we got free grapes and oranges...

i brewed a "pot" of coffee and slunk back on my all enveloping couch and played poker online. thank goodness they have a play money option on full tilt otherwise i'd be just cresting over probably 4 million lost. yeah, i've won a few tournaments but the amount of winnings goes right back into the pot and lost just as fast as i have won. lost some real money too but when drunk you think you can conquer the world, and the poker world is no different. luckily though its only been a few live person cash games, and i won it all back over the years. i play live person real money once or twice a year, and i'd say i'm about even, if not out the $10 buy-in... i digress...

after my pot (8 cups) of coffee i flew down the stairs and grabbed my ticket from jmac... realizing this wasn't a suit n tie affair (hershey theater always seemed to be too hoity-toity to me.) i had a pair of nice shorts not in the filth pile yet so i got them ready for the show... pile, yeah right, if ya ever stopped by unexpectedly, the filth is all over the apt :) i'm a messy bachelor... i need a maid for my 3 rooms.... dad, whats the going rate?

so i ran to the sink, shaved the stubble from my face and head, showered, lotioned up, powdered down, grabbed my GPS (like american express, i don't leave home without it), and headed to chocolate town.

after a few traffic misfits kept me from getting there on time, and a woman in front of me in line moaned over her illegal bottled water (theater is a money making machine... this ain't the colonial commons movie theater) i sat down and 2 seconds later (no exaggeration) the announcements came on. i could have been more on time but i figured with 2 seconds to spare, it was close enough.

the lights dimmed and the groups upon groups of scantily clad 14 to 48 year olds danced their little butts off, tapping and kicking thru the typical dance songs and much were choreographed but some danced to the beat of just one drum... sorry emmanuel lewis, i got nothing for webster lyrics....

then the curtain lifted revealing the "kid-kids", we're talkin the aww factor was in full effect, and of course as if on cue the rush of "awwwwwws" flew through the crowd. after much scanning it was pointed out that carly was on the bleachers waiting to go. the little dancers in front of her finished their routine, and the young female version of barishnikov walked to dead center front row of the stage. (i don't know any famous ballerina names so his will have to do)... while other children performed in their own right, carly stood still and waited for her cue... even when she gave a wave to the crowd, she knew she had it.

music started, and while every other kid looked away, down, talked to their mother or father in the crowd, or looked to the instructor offstage for guidance, carly looked dead ahead and didn't just hit the routine, but it was as if she was giving a clinic to the rest of the kids. every beat was perfect, her timing was impeccable. every move hit every moment and it was truly impressive to watch. i couldn't remember if i tied my shoes that afternoon, and this girl didn't just remember the routine, wasn't just ready to perform, wasn't just amazing... she was perfection. it was as if she was Smokey in the movie "friday"...she stood over that now dazed routine as if to say "you got knocked the F*** out man!!!"

it was truly an awesome glimpse into her brilliance...

afterwards we all went our separate ways, i headed to Annville until i turned on the GPS and turned around, but i realized why those stage mothers do it... i couldn't have been more proud of my cousin, and she wasn't even my kid.

III

PS... the ol godson is next in line. he put on a show during the show of dancin, smilin, and kept the godfather and grandfather actin foolish and makin faces successfully making him smile... then we proposed he get on stage next, but they'd have to fashion a chair facing the back of the stage, have jon sit facing the back of the stage, and have nick peering over his left shoulder, dancing to the beat and smilin with that trademark cheeky face. it would bring the house down.

then again, i think we found our bassist for the 4G band... rock on (god)son!

HOW'D WE GET INTO THIS MESS?

BREATHE IN... IF YOU READ MY BLOG YOU WILL FIND IF YOU ARE AN EMAILED PERSON OF MINE THAT YOU MAY RECOGNIZE A FEW IF NOT MORE THAN A LITTLE OR SOMETIMES EVERY ONE OF MY BLOGS HAVE APPEARED IN AN EMAIL FORM SOMEHOW ONCE OR ANOTHER TIME BEFORE... FOLLOW THAT? THIS IS A GOOD PLACE TO STORE THEM FOR OTHERS TO READ AGAIN AND HELP ME CLEAR OUT MY 8000 EMAILS IN MY GMAIL FOLDER WITHOUT LOSING THEM. I WROTE THIS ON A COLD WEEKEND EARLIER THIS YEAR AFTER AN OUTING TO SEE MY COUSIN'S BAND "A HOT MESS"........................... ENJOY

A HOT MESS

 A few weeks ago I decided to go to the midtown for a jets / patriots game to watch it with an old midtown regular buddy named johnny mustache… he’s an older Puerto Rican dude who said no one can pronounce his last name, but he’s always worn a mustache, so he’s called johnny mustache.. If you were ever there while the steelers games were on with mike and I a few years ago, he is the guy who is always rooting for the jets, and I pass him on a daily basis on my bike on third street on the way home. (what were ya sean like 19? Ya gotta love midtown… cause that’s when I started going there too!) He works at roxy’s on third st and always screams my name (to him) “STEEEELERRRRRRRS”... when I pass him you can hear his echo thru the side streets of the city. Truly a nice guy and completely awesome to sit and have a few beers with. Heck in that case he could be president. Isn’t that how Bush got elected (‘a guy you’d wanna have a beer with’)?

 So I walk in to surprise johnny cause I hadn’t been in there for a while on a Sunday and low and behold johnny wasn’t there. So I drank my pitcher of water and as I sat by myself for a depressed 45 minutes, who walks in but Patty mac daddy and his friend/manager/former bandmate/the greatest bass player I’ve seen, err, rather, heard (who I can easily say that about who isn’t family) adam bustin. They decided to sit with me and life became manageable for that next hour. We chatted and joked and watched the pats jets game and figured all was right with the world.

 Midtown promoted January 22 as a day that a kickass blues band called the cornlickers was playing there.  I suggested they come down to hear them play and that’s when pat said he couldn’t… that he was playing downtown Gman that night… so naturally those who licked corn were put on the backburner. I knew I was in for a show, but I had to drive to get to it.

 On a side note, I’m weird. I like to go out and see a band. I am not there to talk, I wanna listen to the band. so it can be viewed as antisocial and in fact it is the definition. I’m not the social butterfly you think about when I’m out n about, cause in fact I don’t go out often. So if anyone thought oddly of me well, deal with it… that’s just me………sober. People say what’s new and I say I’m out of the apt., that’s what!

 Fast forward to the coldest night of globally warmed winter thus far.  January 22 was upon us with a feared frozen vengeance and so I threw on my long johns and layered up for the 2 second walk to my car, then the known 2 minute walk from the parking garage to the bar. Bundled with a masque and compfy carhartt hat I was warm and happy to see my cousin.

 I walk in and low and behold they were playing on the smoking side. Whats 2 showers in a night like for me? well I’ll put it to you this way… it was cold enough I would have done the second one after even if it wasn’t the smoking side. That’s how cold it was. But with me, a former smoker of 16 years (working toward my 4^th year without) I now know I am officially severely allergic to cigarettes. But I wasn’t leaving, as my cousin pat was there and was gonna play. I sat with kiwi and his awesome girlfriend Christine, their smoking buddy whose lit cigarette was contending with my staying there the entire evening (one of the few times in a restaurant where I couldn’t complain about the cigs, even though I never do anyway… here I just couldn’t if I wanted to…) but I toughed it out. *sniffle* 

Another room scan produced aunt mare and uncle pat, uncle patchy, aunt Phyllis, Sharon, vince, the 45 minute vince and his buddy I think merv even came. (you guessed it, like clockwork eventually they left. Vinny’s funny that way, and hopefully he understands I get it. We’re an annoying group of people, there’s never any seats when ya go out, ya always have to slide by someone cause grampa and gramma couldn’t stop at 2 kids no, they had to have 14 and they turned around and mass produced 38 million cousins, then we grow up and the cycle continues… it’s the cirrrrrrrcle, the circle of liiiiiiiiiiife.. I guess the baby BOOM didn’t happen till grampa got started… err, finished… how did we get here? Oye vey…. Oh yeah, see vinny? I over thought by 4 minutes, that’s what happens. but I love the young lad.)

 Kiwi’s mow hawked lookalike (the promoter guy) got up and announced a young woman would be opening so we shot a few games of pool, discussed the merits sports where you can smoke a cig and drink a beer and still be called an athlete… poker, shuffleboard, pool, darts, anything no sweat breaking and non physical I am good at… bowling, curling I’d imagine I’d be the thrower not the sweepers, etc etc etc. (writing… ok it isn’t a sport nor is it athletic, but I am told its an acquired skill…) 

So FINALLY PJ and his bandmates got their instruments and began playing. The girl was good but well, she went on too long in my opinion, and uncle pat said she sounded like some other cat on a fence I couldn’t listen to…

 First up, if howard stern didn’t play bowie’s “rebel, rebel” constantly into and out of the breaks during the “history of howard stern” shows, I would have never known the song…..

 Their sound is awesome. They have a sax player who is off the chart, the bass player (not adam) was very good and is a good lead singer, the drummer who is a spitting image of mikey if mikey had any arm muscle mass (made mikey look like a weak $5 soldier-boy), patrick the picking and lead guitarist extraordinaire, and I think the last guy on stage was the sound guy… no the third harmonizer may play guitar too… (it was dark and I think I have glaucoma… if I could only grow my meds…) but what sets this band apart is the harmony. Its an old goofy joke, but seriously, somehow, someway pat found a band where his singing adds to the show. It was phenomenal, and emotional. They were so good, it’ll bring a tear to your eye. Well ok mine did, but maybe that was the blue hue in the air too. but I’ll admit it… I’m pat’s biggest fan. Even if I don’t get to see him play ever, I almost don’t have to. He’s that good. (GIMME YER SCHEDULE KIDDO!!!) I was pee’d off at the reunion I didn’t hang outside more than I did to hear him play that banjo…

 Every song was recognizable, like “Renegade” I overheard it was called, but I can’t remember the titles… well, enough to remember now. Pat knows the sets and hmmm maybe if uncle joe was doing his backyard bash you’d all understand what kind of band we had here, I must say I will see them again. And again. And again.

 “A HOT MESS”… I could make a pun here but well, its half how we all came into this world. So I need not to. You could think of it to mean “crazy” and well, this writer has a feelin its gonna come out now:

My night with the family was cut short though unfortunately when I decided I was a bit chilly (icewater will do that) and our formerly wonderful waitress had regretfully for her, me, Patrick, and the rest of ya realized she threw my hat out. It was sitting at the table behind us, so you’d think she’d say “you guys know who’s this is?” but no, she said it had been laying there for a while (by my estimation since around 9pm-presently 11:40pm) so she threw it out. Naturally I was livid, I love my hats, especially the carhartt… so soft, warm, n compfy, ask langan masciulli… but since it was 38 billion below outside I was more pissed than I may have shown… I could have laughner’d her. But I didn’t. I was cordial to her, knowing it was a mistake, said my goodbyes regretfully to the family and pat, and left while they were starting their second set. 

If it weren’t for the other cars and pedestrians I’d have hit 120 down 2^nd st. but I think I grazed 30 between rage fueled red lights. I got home and ripped a new one into my cat for no reason, and immediately apologized to him. He’s a Jackass though and he knows I am too. Even he realized I was too keyed up and peeved to end my night. Then I looked down at the floor and there was the midtown card I had grabbed a few weeks back. To calm my nerves, and to cleanse my soul, I walked to midtown. I had on another hat by then though. I wasn’t a complete idiot. Yet grumbling to myself without a Bluetooth headset in my ear made me look like a schizophrenic so it scared off potential robbers along the way… midtown hbg at night even in frigid weather isn’t what it used to be.

 “Cornlickers”… googled is another name for moonshiners back in the day cause you make it from corn (like ethanol). These guys are from Mississippi and like the Eagles, the drummer is their lead singer. I first heard them play at der mannerchor on a Tuesday night and haven’t missed a performance of theirs yet. Simply for 2 reasons. 1 der mannerchor is not far away and 2 I’d be long dead if it weren’t for old school blues… some people take antidepressants when the alcohol doesn’t work anymore… not me… until I can grow my meds, the best meds ever, I take in blues. I dunno how to describe it but they know how to do it so well, that at the beginning of their set I was crying (how does an awesome night turn into stressful angry night? Ya gotta be a hot mess I guess) but at the end I was smiling. I am always sure to say thanks when I leave them because they don’t know what they do, medicinally, for me. they said they’d be back in feb sometime… if I think about it I’ll shoot out an email.

 There’s something to be said about live music that you just can’t download.

Moral of this story: keep track of your hat on a cold night… no, NO that’s not it… I’m just an idiot and didn’t put it in my coat pocket….

The real moral is this here: see pat’s band, “A HOT MESS” when the email is sent out by aunt mare. They’re awesome, the songs are great, and well, pat rules even if playing on my couch, but on stage you’d think it was Jimmy Page.

 III

turns out its not that bad...

So I am sitting here in the evening and I am running thru my failblog chuckling cause I get me… and this last one struck me funny but for an odd reason…

 On the internet there’s a fad called rickrolling and it involves the never gonna give you up song… rick astley was a redhead or whatever color my tv was turned to that day, and he sang in front of a windy beach all studly and windy. Its an odd video. Can you hear it?

Never gonna give you up

Never gonna let you down

Never gonna run around and hurt you

Or whatever,,,

Point of this is I was way past that particular fail picture, like 20 seconds, and I realized I had to finish the refrain of the song…. Never gonna make you cry never gonna say goodbye never gonna run around and desert you… or whatever. God love karaoke. (Um, impossible.)

I guess im like eric cartman of south park… he always has to complete that song…

I’m sailing away………..

 Set an open course for the virgin sea,

(Can you hear it? are you finishing it? who's singing it?
you hear cartman or styx? both?)

 What I really wanna know is

Are ya gonna go my way

And I got to got to

help, I need somebody,
Help, not everybody,
Help, you know I need someone, help.

 Did your head complete the songs? Did they change in your head?  Did they play in your head or did you just read them…?

sorry my song selection could be one of those "the compilation of awesome" cds, its so cheesy until you're ar a party and "all these great songs come on"

oooooooooooooooooooooooooh give you up.

Maybe its just me…

Song tune memory rules, I just wish I knew the words.

never gonna give
never gonna give

III

ps... give you up.

PERFECT EMAIL MAKIN IT TO THE BLOG... 10-10-10...

FAMILY AND FRIENDS MAY HAVE SEEN THIS BEFORE BUT ITS ONE OF MY FAVORITES... ONE WEEKEND IN 2010 WILL BE, FORGET D-DAY, A WEEKEND IN INFAMY... WELL, TO ME.

SO LEMME ASK ALLL OF YOU...

HOW WAS YOUR WEEKEND, START TO FINISH? GOOD BETTER BEST... NAAH, YOU COULD HAVE TOLD ME WE WERE AT PEACE AND LITERALLY ALL WAS RIGHT WITH THE WORLD, NO MONEY PROBLEMS, NO WORRIES, NO DISEASE AND NO DEATH... AND IT COULDN'T BE BETTER THAN MY WEEKEND. . .

OK, SO I COULD MAKE THIS SHORT AND SWEET, BUT WHY BOTHER. THATS BORING AND YOU PEOPLE DON'T LIKE BORING. SO LETS MAKE A SHORT STORY LOOOOONG... I GOTTA BRING YA DOWN A BIT THOUGH AFTER THAT KIND OF START. AS GREAT AS MY WEEKEND WAS, I'M TALKING SPORTSWISE. I STILL HAVE DEPRESSION AND STILL NEED NEXIUM TO MAKE IT THRU A DAY, BUT THIS WEEKEND WAS DIFFERENT. I AM ALIVE AFTER THIS WEEKEND.

 LEMME BEGIN A LITTLE WHILE AGO... LAST YEAR IN NORTH CAROLINA I SAW ONE OF THE MOST AMAZING FIRST SETS IN TENNIS I HAVE EVER SEEN. THE ENTIRE TIME THESE 2 MEN WERE BATTLING, HITTING JUST ABOUT EVERY POINT FOR ABOUT 20+ STROKES. IF YOU EVER SAW A TENNIS MATCH, THIS DOESN'T HAPPEN THAT OFTEN, BUT WHEN RALLY CAPS ARE ON, ITS FAIRLY EXCITING. IT WAS BETWEEN NADAL AND MONFILS, AND IF YOU EVER LOOK UP THE US OPEN 2009, LOOK UP THAT MATCH. THE FIRST SET LASTED PROBABLY OVER AN HOUR.  I DUNNO HOW LONG EXACTLY, BUT SOME SETS CAN LAST 20 MINUTES, AND THAT'S FAST.  

I ALWAYS WANTED TO SEE THEM AGAIN. FAST FORWARD...

 THURSDAY NIGHT I REALIZED THERE WAS LIVE TENNIS ON AND I RECORDED THE MATCH OF MONFILS... IN JAPAN THE SETS APPARENTLY ARE BEST OF 3, SO IT WAS OVER SHORTLY. IF YOU EVER SAW HIM PLAY HE'S TALL AND A FAST RUNNER SO HE IS A GREAT DEFENDER AND EXCITING TO WATCH.

 FRIDAY, I WATCHED THE MATCH AND MONFILS WON. NADAL PLAYED AT MIDNIGHT FRIDAY NIGHT LIVE AND THAT MATCH LASTED OVER 3 HOURS. IT WAS A NAILBITER, BUT AS YOU MAY HAVE GUESSED BY NOW, NADAL WON. IT WAS CLOSE, BUT AS IS SEEN THE ENTIRE WEEKEND, NOTHING CAME EASY.

SO THE STAGE WAS SET.

SATURDAY MORNING I WOKE UP AT 1PM CAUSE I WAS UP TILL 3:30AM CHEERING ON NADAL. (HE'S FUNNY BY THE WAY. A SIDE NOTE, IF YOU WATCH HIM RECEIVE THE SERVE, YOU'LL NOTICE SOMETHING ABOUT HIM... HE PICKS HIS BUTT, SMELLS IT, THEN FIXES HIS HAIR BEHIND HIS EARS EVERY TIME. IF YOU'VE NEVER NOTICED IT, YOU'LL NEVER NOT SEE IT NOW. HECK OF A PLAYER, BUT I THINK HIS MOJO COMES FROM DEEP IN THE REAR OF HIS SHORTS. HE'S VERY ANAL ABOUT THINGS, HE WON'T LEAVE HIS SEAT IF HIS WATERS ARE OFF LEVEL, FOR INSTANCE... OCD? MAYBE, BUT WHEN YER #1 IN THE WORLD AT ANYTHING, ITS WORTH IT TO FIND YER MOJO FROM ANYWHERE, EVEN IF ITS BETWEEN THE CHEEKS... ) SPEAKING OF GOOD MOJO, HOW WAS HAITI?

SATURDAY AFTERNOON 2 GAMES WERE ON THAT I WAS INTERESTED IN. IN GENERAL I AM NOT A SPORTS FAN PER SE, BUT I LIKE CERTAIN ONES. I KNOW WHO BILL BUCKNER IS SADLY, I KNOW WHO JOE MONTANA IS HAPPILY, AND I KNOW WHO DALE EARNHARDT IS (HOW COULDN'T I? HIS NUMBER IN WINSTON CUP WAS 3!) NOTRE DAME PLAYED PITTSBURGH AND IT WAS BACK AND FORTH FOR A WHILE. ND'S KICKER MADE THE LONGEST FIELD GOAL IN ND HISTORY (50 YARDS) AND HE HAS THE RECORD FOR MOST CONSECUTIVE MADE FIELD GOAL KICKS. THIS IS A GUY WHO MADE THE TEAM BY WINNING A DORM FIELD GOAL CONTEST. BUT LONG STORY MERCIFULLY SHORT, ANOTHER NAILBITER, BUT THIS ONE CAME IN MY FAVOR... NOTICE A TREND... ND WINS.

 PENN STATE PLAYED ILLINOIS THIS WEEKEND. IT WAS A WEEKEND THE COUSINS AND A FEW FRIENDS KNOW AS PENN STATE WEEKEND NORMALLY, BUT WE HAD TO CHANGE THE DATE FROM THE HOST'S DAUGHTER'S MOMMA CHANGING PLANS SO WE HAD IT A FEW WEEKS AGO. I JUST HATE PENN STATE. SO WHEN PEOPLE ASK ME WHO MY FAVORITE TEAMS ARE IN COLLEGE FOOTBALL, I'LL TELL YOU THAT VARIES... ALWAYS ND, AND ANYONE WHO PLAYS PENN STATE. BEEN A HATER ALL MY LIFE, MY DAD CAN TELL A FEW STORIES ABOUT ME IN THE PSU ALUMNI PRESIDENT'S BOX AT BEAVER STADIUM AS A KID... AND WHEN WE GO FOR THE WEEKEND I MAKE SURE I WEAR THE OPPOSITE TEAM'S GEAR THAT WEEKEND. SO I HAVE AN ILLINI SWEATSHIRT AND CAN COOLIE ON EBAY RIGHT NOW. BUT IN WATCHING THE GAME, PSU JUST GOT DOMINATED AND FORTUNATELY IT WASN'T A NAILBITER, PSU LOST 33-10.  

I SAW A FEW AMAZING PLAYS AFTER THAT GAME, NOTABLY THE ENDING OF THE LSU V FLORIDA GAME... HECK OF A FAKE FIELD GOAL. BUT WHILE THE PSU GAME WAS ON I WAS PLAYING PLAY CHIP POKER ONLINE AND I TURNED 1000 PLAY CHIPS INTO 62K, ONE OF THE BEST NIGHTS IN MY LIFE. DID IT TAKE FOREVER, YEAH, BUT THAT WAS A FINE RUN, AND A CONTRIBUTION TO MY SUBJECT.

 SATURDAY NIGHT AT MIDNIGHT STARTED THE TENNIS MATCH. I WAS STILL INTO MY POKER GAME AND THE PEEPS WERE NICE SO IT WAS MORE OF A CHATROOM THAN A POKER GAME. NO IT WASN'T AS EXCITING AS I HAD HOPED AS FROM BEFORE, BUT ALSO THEY DIDN'T DISAPPOINT. I LOVE NADAL BUT I AM GAINING LOVE FOR MONFILS. THE FRENCHMAN WAS GREAT, BUT THE SPAINIARD WAS BETTER. NADAL WINS, 6-1, 7-5 I THINK. AGAIN JAPAN, BEST OF 3. AND LIVE TENNIS. HOW PERFECT?

WELL, THE WEEKEND WASN'T OVER YET.

SUNDAY I WOKE UP IN THE WEE MORNING AT 11:30, AND AFTER A MUCH NEEDED SHOWER, I THREW ON SOME OLD NOTRE DAME GEAR AND HEADED TO THE JADE FOR SOME MUCH NEEDED TIME AWAY FROM SPORTS. P N P, RITA, THE ELDER MACS, KRISTIN, AND URSZULA WERE OUT FOR A FINE TIME INDEED... EVEN THE FORTUNE COOKIE MENTIONED WORDS AND WRITERS... AFTER THE MEET N GREET LUNCH BUFFET WITH THE FAM I WENT TO RITE AID FOR SOME MUCH NEEDED FREE-AFTER-REBATE COUGH N COLD SUPPLIES (SALE ON THIS WEEK) AND COFFEE. THEN I HIT GIANT FOR SOME ALLERGY MEDS CALLED CETRIZINE. ITS THE FAKE ZYRTEC, AND I GOT 210 OF THEM... USUALLY THAT'S OVER 100 BUCKS WORTH OF ZYRTEC FOR THE NEXT 210 DAYS, BUT IN MY FINDINGS AND 2 GIANT STOPS, I BOUGHT IT ALL FOR ABOUT 35 BUCKS.  

IF YOU ASK ME WHO MY FAVORITE TEAM IS IN THE NFL, I'LL TELL YOU I AM A FAN OF PITTSBURGH DUE TO FREQUENTING THE MIDTOWN BAR AND ITS COMMORADERIE, BUT MY FAVORITE TEAM CHANGES EVERY WEEK. THIS WEEK ITS THE TITANS, CAUSE THEY PLAYED DALLAS. TO GIVE YOU AN IDEA HOW THE WEEKEND WAS GOING, IN THE FIRST HALF THE TITANS HAD SACKED DALLAS ABOUT SIX TIMES. . . 6! THEY HAD SAID SO FAR THIS SEASON, ROMO HADNT BEEN SACKED BUT ONCE OR TWICE IN THE FIRST FEW GAMES, AND IN THAT PARTICULAR SERIES, THEY HAD GOTTEN TO HIM TWICE ALREADY. IT LITERALLY CAME DOWN TO THE WIRE, AN AMAZING FINISH: DALLAS TIED IT ONLY TO HAVE THE TITANS RUN IT ALMOST ALL THE WAY BACK ON THE KICKOFF AND WHEN YOU ADDED IN THE PENALTY, THE TITANS HAD NOT MORE THAN 10 YARDS TO GO TO WIN IT AND YES, THEY DID.  

AS SOME OF YOU KNOW I LIKE ORANGE. NOT JUST THE FRUIT, NOR FOR THE NEDERLANDS WORLD CUP UNIFORM CAUSE OF AMSTERDAM AND ITS COLOR, BUT ALSO THE COLOR ORANGE. WHEN I BEGAN WATCHING NASCAR I FOLLOWED A GUY IN THE HOME DEPOT CAR. WHY? NOT JUST CAUSE HOME DEPOT WAS ORANGE... TONY STEWART'S NICKNAME (AT THE TIME... BEYOND 'SMOKE'...) WAS "BIG ORANGE". HE'S A PORTLY DRIVER TO PUT IT NICELY, BUT TONY HAD BEEN KNOWN FOR HIS MOUTH. AFTER ONE OF THE RACES HE SAID SOMETHING LIKE "THESE TIRES ARE SO BAD THAT I AM GONNA REMOVE EVERY GOODYEAR I HAVE ON ALL MY CARS AND BE HAPPY ABOUT IT. THEYRE JUST CRAP"... GOODYEAR IS ALL NASCAR RUNS SO THE NASCAR PEOPLE DIDN'T LIKE THAT TOO MUCH. HE'S A LITTLE ROUGH AROUND THE EDGES AND I LIKE THAT ABOUT HIM. WITH 40+ LAPS TO GO IN THE RACE THIS SUNDAY IN CALIFORNIA, THE NOW RED BUT I STUCK WITH HIM OFFICE DEPOT CAR #14 STEWART TOOK THE LEAD. THE ANNOUNCERS SAID HE COULD "GO", REDNECK TALK FOR "ITS A WELL TUNED CAR", AND THAT HE SAID HIS CAR WAS AWESOME. I'VE HEARD THIS BEFORE, AND FROM A GUY WHO IS ALWAYS STARTING IN THE 20S, GETTING TO FIRST BY THE CHECKERED IS ROUGH, BUT AS YOU GUESSED IT, 40 OR SO LAPS LATER, LOSING AND GAINING BACK HIS LEAD FROM THE 33 OF BOYER, 48 OF JOHNSON... THE 14 PREVAILED. MY THROAT HURTS FROM SCREAMING AT MY TV LIKE AN IDIOT, OR "DAVID... LEAPING AND DANCING BEFORE THE LORD WITH ALL HIS MIGHT" - FOOTLOOSE AND APPARENTLY THE BIBLE... BUT I WAS LEAPING AND DANCING AND CLAPPING LIKE A MONKEY ON ACID...

 I COULD RECAP HERE, BUT ITS NOT OVER.

 SUNDAY NIGHT I STARTED TO WATCH PHILI... FOOTBALL... BASEBALL... ITS NO CARLIN BIT. ONE WAS ON TBS, THE OTHER WAS ON NBC. I REALLY DIDN'T CARE WHO WON OR WHAT I WATCHED, BUT IN PREPARATION OF THIS, THEY SHOWED THE END OF THE CHARGERS/RAIDERS GAME. PHILIP RIVERS IS TO TONY ROMO AS MOST PEOPLE THINK OF ME TO JMAC... (I'M JONNY MAC'S A-HOLE COUSIN, A BADGE I HAPPILY DESERVE, ASK ERIN, AND ENJOY WEARING TO THE FULLEST... ITS A COMPLIMENT TO ME, BUT NOT SUPPOSED TO BE IN THIS S.A.T. EXERCISE. WHATTAYA CALL THOSE THINGS? __ IS TO __ AS __ IS TO __... COMPARISONS COMPARISONS... ) SO I DON'T LIKE PHILIP RIVERS. CHARGERS QB... HE'S COCKY LIKE ANDY RODDICK. AND THE RAIDERS DECIDED THIS WAS THE WEEKEND TO WIN. WHAT? YUP, I CAN CONFIRM IT... THE RAIDERS EVEN WON.

 SWEATING IN MY APARTMENT FROM THE ONGOING LUCK OF THIS WEEKEND, AND THE HEAT, I STARTED WITH BASEBALL. DO I CARE ABOUT BASEBALL? NOT IN THE LEAST. DO I LIKE WATCHING IT? TO USE A CARLINISM, "ITS LIKE WATCHING FLIES F*"... BUT BY THE TIME IT MATTERED, PHILI WAS UP 1-0. I SWITCHED TO FOOTBALL... EAGLES I LIKE TO SEE WIN FOR THE MAC CONTINGENCY, AND CELEK CAUGHT A TOUCHDOWN. BASEBALL... PHILI WENT UP 2-0... FOOTBALL... I DUNNO CAUSE I GOT A TEXT TO COME TO MALONES AND JOIN JONNY MAC AND TONY MASCIULLI... TONY MASCIULLI WAS OUT? HANGING? THAT NEVER HAPPENS! LESS OFTEN THAN 10-10-10... HOW COULD I TURN THIS DOWN? SO I GOT DRESSED, AND OUT THE DOOR I WENT. I DIDNT EVEN RETURN THE TEXT. I JUST SHOWED UP AT THEIR TABLE. I WAS ON SUCH A WEEKEND SPORTS HIGH THAT IF PHILI WON, ON EITHER CHANNEL, IT DIDN'T MATTER. THEY HAD 2 TVS IN FRONT OF US SET UP SO THAT WE COULD WATCH BOTH GAMES SIMULTANEOUSLY... FOR EITHER PHILI TO WIN IT WOULD BE THE CHERRY TOPPING TO THE WEEKEND THAT I DIDN'T EXPECT, BUT HEY... WHY NOT TALK TO THE MARACHINO'S AND LET THEM KNOW THE MASCIULLIS WAMBACHS AND MACDONALDS WERE IN HANG MODE. THEY DIDN'T DISAPPOINT. AND THEY CAME THRU WITH A VENGEANCE, CAUSE NOT ONLY WERE PEOPLE SPRAYING THE BUBBLY ON TBS, BUT ON NBC THEY WERE INTERVIEWING A VERY HAPPY LASEAN MCCOY WHEN THE EAGLES BEAT THE NINERS (SORRY NATE).

 IN LIFE IF YOU DON'T LIVE A FULL CENTURY, ONLY ONCE DO YOU EVER SEE SOMETHING LIKE 10-10-10... ASK NADIA COMENIECH (< YOU SPELL IT, THE GYMNAST IN WHAT... '76 OLYMPICS?) OR MARY LOU RETTON... TO CONTINUE ASK KARI STRUG ERR WHOEVER... OR KILL A FEW BIRDS AND ASK BELA KARYOLI, THEIR HORRIBLY MISSPELLED COACH...  HECK ASK MICHAEL PHELPS WHAT PERFECT MEANS. HOWS ABOUT KARA N KELLY (ANNIVERSARY ON 10/10 EVERY YEAR, BUT THIS MORNING AT 10AM MADE IT OFFICIAL OF THEIR STARTING TIME... SORRY I SLEPT THRU IT)... ASK BO DEREK HOW SHE FEELS ABOUT "10" OR GALILEO ABOUT STARS ALIGNING. NO EVERY-GAME-BASEBALL-BATTER EVER HITS 1000 FOR THE SEASON, LET ALONE THE CYCLE, BUT AS RARE AS IT IS EVEN THE CYCLE HAPPENS, IT IS POSSIBLE.

 ONCE IN A LIFETIME OR LESS THAN ONCE IN 1000 YEARS DOES THIS EVER HAPPEN.... BUT ITS WHY WE WATCH, FOR THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS, BUT FOR IT ALL TO WORK OUT THE WAY I WANTED IT... PRICELESS.

 NORM ZEDA COULDN'T PICK OUT A PRETTIER GIRL FOR THE MAGAZINE (PERFECT 10 IS LIKE PLAYBOY WITHOUT THE IMPLANTS)... OK, OVEREXAGGERATING IS MY STYLE, BUT IT WOULD BE HARD TO BEAT THIS WEEKEND, ALL PUNS INTENDED.

 AND I THOUGHT IT'D BE AN APPROPRIATE TIME TO MAKE A FAMILY COMMENT AND ENJOY MY LAST FEW DAYS AND SHARE WITH YOU SO THAT IF I DIE TONIGHT YOU ALL COULD KNOW I DIED HAPPY. BUT OF COURSE I WONT DIE, I'LL BE BACK TO THE BLUES (AND BLUEGRASS) BY TUESDAY EVENING WHILE AT DER MANNERCHOR DOWNTOWN TO SEE POKEY LAFARGE AND THE SOUTH CITY THREE. I HOPE I DON'T GET SHOT, BUT IF I DO, ITS COOL. I'M ON CLOUD 9, ERR, #14 IF YA NEED ME.

 III

 PS... CHECK YOUR SPORTS SITES, ITS ALL TRUE. TO RECAP: NADAL BEAT MONFILS, STEWART WON, EAGLES, TITANS, RAIDERS, PHILLIES, LSU, ILLINI, ND, EVEN CHECK GIANT'S CETRIZINE SALE. (30 @ $5.49) AND RITE AID'S REBATE SALE THIS WEEK. I EVEN HAVE A PHONE PIC OF MY BANK FROM FULL TILT PRE-LOSS... 62,436... STEELERS HAD A BYE THIS WEEKEND. BUT I HAVE BEEN SO EXCITED, THAT CHECK THE TIME OF SENDING AND ENJOY. 4AM MONDAY. THANKS COLUMBUS!

FIRE DRILL? ALARM? nah, you figure it out...

letterman hit on this as well and i do my best writing at work (cause theres nothing to do) but i must say this...

there was an earthquake yesterday here on the East Coast of America and it isn't something we are accustomed to feeling, hearing about, etc. . . i honestly thought one of the famously overweight here at the state offices was walking by, then i thought i had vertigo again (its what it felt like) but then i realized that was my first earthquake ever.

we don't have earthquake training. we don't have ANY training really, but things like fire drills (or nuclear explosion drills from the 1950's "all-the-kids-get-under-their-desk" drills) are a regular occurrence here.

nobody knew what to do. we all looked at each other with stoned faces on like "you feel that"?

emails flew, some people left... me? i just sat here waiting for the dizziness to go away, and got back to "work"... but there were no alarms. no fire drills. no people directing you where to go. people were just stunned. and in that way it was odd.

my director (the head dept boss) came down our row and said basically a Spaceballs line: President Skroob: "...You got to help me. I don't know what to do. I can't make decisions. I'm a president!"

it was a mild form of chaos with an aftertaste of dementia...

later on the news it was found out that a large number of employees gathered in a grassy area as if to be on a fire drill, but those "nonessential workers" you hear about were left wondering what in fact to do.

my brilliant higher-ups, while letting us stay in the building, took the elevator downstairs to street level. the elevator. i know i'm a nut and wouldn't mind dying at this very second, (i hate when i write that and the heart attack never comes) its why i didn't leave the building. but i also know in the event of an emergency event, you take the stairs. at even 5 floors up the drop could be instantaneous death if the cord breaks...

long story short, a million or 2 will write about this earthquake and it will be discussed on the news ad~nauseum (sp), so maybe just maybe we will have an "earthquake drill" in the coming months...

at least we will know what to do if and when it happens next.... although with my luck, a brick chimney would fall on me the second i left the building. and in the entire earthquake, there'd be one casualty, ME, and i would be the next "15 seconds of fame" death on youtube.

III

child molester gene? do they all have the same DNA?

quick thought...

why is it when you see the picture of the child molester in a newspaper article its always the same guy? thick glasses, combover thats so bad you think its not real when it is, wifebeater, slightly overweight... its unreal. i'd post a few examples but this is such an epidemic in US culture today that you see these articles every day. look one up. you see the thick glasses, etc... these are the creepy guys you were told as a kid to stay away from... now you know mom was right!

secondarily, why is it you never see or in fact as rampant as child molestation has been in recent years (... "have a seat right over there...") you never see women in cases of child molestation? because when they do it (in most cases) adolescent boys see it as a gift rather than a mind bending hell... these women were not in my circle of aquaintances growing up of course, but i'd also imagine if they were i wouldn't score with them either... *sigh*

HE said it wouldn't be a good idea...

first of all rejection is a bitch... numero uno. all we ever wanted in life per the billions of people on this earth was food, water, shelter, air, and acceptance by our fellow human beings. every once in a while love creeps its little head in there like it is a vital necessity of life. i have found emotionally it isn't, but physically, thats another issue all together.

individual love is more of a "want" than acceptance.

to be accepted in life is to be loved by everyone. no questions asked. like you and your best friends: you love and accept one another, flaws, assumptions, whatever. he's tall, she's short, he's fat, she's got a face only her mother could love, his one big eye, her third nipple, his two bellybuttons. your friends don't care about all of that. they love you for you. after whiskey you fall asleep. after a half a case of beer and a few shots of vodka i scream racial slurs. after an operation once i got mad at a doc who didn't live up to his end of the bargain and decided to throw a few Jew curveballs to him. (only to find out that i was a few generations away from the holocaust myself makes hindsight a [PMSing woman minus the chocolate].) but my buddy john who was there to witness it is still my buddy today. why? he accepted my flaws... and he signed the paper that said he'd drive my woozy-from-the-foot-in-mouth-operationed piehole home.

ive been through some life changing things in my life for no reason and most say i wear my heart on my sleeve. inexperience makes me naive in the love game. so when i asked a long, long, longtime born again friend of mine to think about being more than friends with me in my mid twenties, she said she had a chat with god... a few days later, god said i wouldnt be a good idea to date, have fun with, even marry.

i dont have that strong of a brain chemistry (i wanna say psyche but i am not sure i am spelling it right) so i don't feel that was that good of a thing for me to say, giving it the old community college try... but this girl, i thought, was making me want to be a better man - to steal a nicholson line from 'as good as it gets' - and looking back she was good for me at the time. but man i am happy her god was, in fact, looking out for me.

currently i am in a horrible, but paying, job. i live in a nice now 2 bedroom place, one extra room for Gibby my uncle who stays with me when he comes to town, and have a nice functioning ride. things in the single life, albeit lonely (hello blogger.com) couldn't be better. i have what i want minus my own property and a full understanding of my job, but all in all its ok. dying wouldn't be a bad idea either, i just dont have the balls to do it. hopefully cancer or something easier can help with that soon.

last i heard from her was a few years ago. her husband didnt like hearing or reading the email i had sent to her seriously just checking in after she sent a sympathy card after my grandfather died. turns out they were on the outs, she was living with his mother and him with their child. and since their divorce he is in the army and she had been excited about living in a mobile home trailer on her parent's property. very nice for her and her son, but i feel i am better than that.

thanks god.

III

ps... as this one bumper sticker a friend of mine found one day at a festival reads "i was born ok the first time".

I'M LAZY AND ANGRY...

i dunno why this makes me mad but it does...
in life it's the little things... and i will do things like driving around the parking lot for what seems like hours to get a better parking spot. i have been known to go through an entire tank of gas just looking for a parking spot. and for the most part i get the closest one... then as i walk to the store it seems as though every other spot that wasn't available and closer to the door opens up which pisses me off more.

then i get in to the store. i don't care what it is but whatever i am looking for in the store is never in the front. its always in a particular section and it happened again earlier today.
i went to target and found one of the couponner deals there and i was happy cause i got 4 deodorants for 2 bucks. the way it works though is target gives you a $5 card toward your next purchase and my next purchase was there too. without saying what it was (i am not sure when i will let the word out that i've been blogging for a few days now) i can say this. it was on sale for 20 cents a piece but it wasn't in front of the store so i went to the section of the store where it was located (or should have been) and no, it was such a good deal that it was sold out there as well. i stopped an associate and he said the inevitable...:
"sir if you go to the back of the store, in the back corner, you'll find all the things we have on sale for what you are looking for there..."
--where sir?
"the BACK CORNER OF THE STORE..."

are ya flipping kidding me?...

its inevitable every time i go to a store and it doesn't matter what store it is, whatever i am looking for to either buy or check a price on is, ahem, located at the back corner of the store.

if i have the greatest parking space on a particular side of the store the item i would want would be on the opposite side of the store. its like i should ask for a segway to get there or even one of those treadmill/airport walkways may help. my luck though i would have to walk doubly as fast as what i would want would be on the side of the store opposite to the direction of the treadmill/walkway...

camping or automotive stuff at walmart... pet stuff at target... its insane.

i think from now on i will have things delivered to my home for these reasons:

a. already have a great parking space
b. NO PEOPLE
c. its right in front of my door, not in the back corner.

III

ps... ever go to a target sale on a saturday? if, among the above, you hate crying whining kids.... just forgettaboutit!

"SO THIS IS IT HUH FOLKS?"

subject is reaction to carlin's thought on the phrase "the greatest thing since sliced bread..."

reason i am saying this is because i am learning what a pain in the butt couponing is. its not easy and if your store isn't handling your merchandise that day then you can't buy something for nothing. nothing for something? i dunno... it don't work is the point.

what gets my goat is a few things... flippin comcast. i hate 'em, and i only watch certain shows at certain times, mostly either the day-of so i don't have to watch the commercials (an hour later for that reason) or the next day if i don't HAVE to see it then. (like south park... thats a must-see wednesday night thing when the new season starts. cause the watercooler talk is rampant i basically get the whole show from an idiot's point of view here unless i see it myself first anyway.)

and huge possibility in an effort to save money i will have to do this switcheroo thing cause i am looking at 2 fulltime jobs for a year. during which time i would do nothing at home but sleep and eat, stroke the cat, and head back out to work. so i won't have time except on the weekend to watch my DVR so i may as well watch them on hulu or some web based tv.

so i have a wireless internet connection that i have been using to kill my cellphone bill and guess what? its flippin nice! i never get a call from them about using too much service or too much downloading or whatever. only drawback, like the original cellphones, it only works in certain areas. you could say my WIFI clearspot is like the original analog cellphone services. you're lucky if you even get a signal, let alone the other person is trying to get ahold of you. i am, i'd say, the last point before completely free wifi is available everywhere, and if you have a dunce for a neighbor, some get free wifi from their houses. some... but with respect to the "cellphone" aspect of it, my ipod touch works fine for the job which its used for... FREE TEXTING.

since i text more than talk, either on interwebs or phone its all the same, and if its deathly important you can text me to call you and i will either thru my laptop or ipod.... (remember the pager, thirtysomethings???) the nice thing is noone can really get ahold of me unless 3 things occur. 1. i am at work so they call directly. 2. i actually call them back. 3. i feel like participating and call them back. otherwise, well, it can wait till i get to work.

but the nice has its drawbacks... if you can't get ahold of me i fall out of the loop... i find being off facebook already entirely gets me out of the loop so this just furthur pushes me outside of loopdom. also in order for me to receive a call i have to be logged out of google mail, Gmail... since i am always logged in to that you go right to voicemail, which is the last drawback. for one, i like howard stern, not many really do but his humor sticks with me sometimes too much and YEARS ago he recorded on air outgoing voicemail thats a little racy but funny. i mean, it went over FCC regulated radio so how bad can it be right...? ok, its not the greatest message, but its designed to make you laugh and if you don't, well, just leave a dang message. for two, although a nice feature on google voice, the voicemails are transcribed. cool huh? yeah, well, as my cousin kelly put it... its kinda like chinglish... chinese english... you could leave a message saying "the sky is blue" and it may transcribe "this guy grew"... so you still have to listen to the message, but sometimes it turns into its own game of MADLIBS...

looking to remove myself from the cable spectrum all together so i can save enough for a downpayment of a house and to spend over 1200/yr for service that comes and goes and shows that are mostly unwatchable... i am finding out about sites like hulu or xboxlive and netflix (ohh the dreaded netflix... i say that cause their popup on pennlive everyday drives me insane... and the stateworker blocker is just that. it works for 5 minutes and then sleeps...)

so if cable and dvr and such is the greatest thing since sliced bread, this tech society we live in now has to come up with something similar to sliced bread in order to keep me going. life without a TV is hard. i have given up many addictions in life but the TV is heroin to me. its a must have every day. if i don't take in that radiation, that alien from spaceballs won't stop growing in my stomach. and i need that thing to pop out and do a song and dance eventually. ....."baby my heart's on fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiire"...

so hulu for some great shows maybe, i need to find a cheap used xbox or ps3 to complete the wifi connection so i can keep using my laptop for um, laptop duties... and go from there. if i watch one show 4x a month, in the apple app store its 8 dollars/mo... will this add up for me i dunno... maybe appletv is the way to go. so the research starts...NOW.

but i just have one hope... that jeopardy comes thru on the digital antenna... if not i may need a breadknife.

III

back to school...

the ufc decided to have a fight this past weekend and instead of ordering it at home i decided to go out to the bar and watch it... its not a bad thing. you go to the bar, pay a $10 cover, and they give you a $10 card towards food, drinks, etc... in general it evens out, especially because you end up drinking more than $10 during the fights anyway, but for a guy who drinks water all the time (wagonnite since 2/28/09) it means i have to eat something while i am there. their food isn't the greatest, so i had nachos...

(side note... nachos and constipation go hand in hand... take a stool softener with your nachos if you decide to get 2 appetizers full and eat all of them at once... i bet i had 10 tall fat kids diving into the pool last night... i almost wanted an episiotomy.)

looking around the room i found some legs i recognized. it had been a while, but these were thighs i am sure i recognized. in high school i looked down on the floor so much that i could tell you who was walking ahead of me without even seeing her face. these legs were so recognizable i wondered how i knew them so well... once i saw the wall-smacked face though i knew who i was looking at. whats odd though is i don't remember being in many classes with those thighs, i just remembered them. she was an old classmate in high school, and at that exact moment i regressed into my ninth grade former self.

at work i am the quietest yet most vulgar person you know... if i am on the phone with a buddy of mine anything comes out from old comedy routines to those not heard yet... some, in fact, spark an email or something like this current piece of blog. otherwise some days people say "oh, you're here..." ... ... among friends and in nervous groups of people i do what i can to make a joke or make someone laugh... they aren't all winners, but some hit the mark... i am not real good socially, in general i cornerize myself and peoplewatch...  but i can write purdy good, or so they tell me... ... ... in school though i had just about zero confidence in myself and was constantly ridiculed. so i inadvertently memorized the floor tiles and, well anything looking down... so seeing those now varicosed and used thirty some year old legs were a fond yet disappointing memory.

i look nothing like i used to: i have no hair, a beard, i have some weight on myself, and i am with a ton of people. in school i was by myself or with a few people, but not a lively group such as this. yet i felt like i was in high school once again, that guy that felt an inch tall was back and i was nothing but uncomfortable. when the girls walked by me to either use the bathroom or leave i felt those stares at me so they could confirm my identity to joke about it with their friends later. the one girl was a knock kneed whore (imagine that) who noone could imagine how she made it TO high school let alone got through it. well, if you have a lively imagination you could understand how she got an A in some classes...

i just remember the uncomfortability, it was constant when you are the bottom rung of the totem pole in high school... i also remember talking to an old classmate who once apologized for the ridicule a few years after we graduated. he explained his homelife and mentioned that his brother had recently committed suicide. although i admire his brother (because he went thru with it whereas i just dream about it, stopping on a bridge here and there thinking about finishing it all, or where i would pull the trigger of a shotgun barrel in my mouth... naturally in the bathtub so the blood would go down the drain and you could just wipe down the tiles with bleach to clean the blood and brain matter... sorry, its a rarity that i don't think about it... normal for me may be offputting for some.) i couldnt do anything about the past with this classmate. all i could do was let him know i accepted his apology, and would be there for him anytime in the future. what ended up happening was that i realized my home life, as horrible as it was with the constant fighting and all things considered, wasn't all that bad. it had its own way of being brutal, mind you, but i was happy i could be there for him to ridicule, just to get some of that pain out of his system. at the time it wasn't good for me, for my psyche, or for the other kids to not feed from. but for a few minutes out of his life, him ridiculing me made his life not so bad...

once the girls left the bar i told the group i was with that i went to high school with those blondes... they had to wipe the drool from their chins but once i told them a little about them, they were happy to remember the hottest thing about them... the fact that they were gone.

and i was back to feeling 6' tall.

III

WHATS IT LIKE?

WELL, its 3:10... another hour it'll be 3:10:01... thats what its like

complete and total sobriety makes each and every second of your life feel like an eternity. and for someone who can't wait to die, it's worse than a horror movie. because its real life.

thats why its fun to say you are sober for 2.5 years... 'cause sober generally means drinking... when you say clean and sober then you know the social degenerate has had a drug past, and then clean has a whole new meaning.

hey, even show pigs are allowed to wallow in the mud once in a while... which make those seconds go by like, well, seconds...

sobriety can be TAKEN away in a minute. dirt though can be washed away... then yer clean again... i think its best not even to use irish spring. i use cetaphil because my skin demands it. i think irish spring smells the best, but could remind me too much of irish whiskey so i dare not have it in the shower, let alone for a nightcap.

even so, i do miss drinking... more and more i wanna have a sip. but the pride of the time (2.5 years... reality is 2y5m7d) is why i don't.

MY CUBICLE... SMALLER THAN A PRISON CELL

ever think the 3-walled hell you work in is kinda like prison? its something you are forced to do on a daily basis to keep from being jailed, yet its like a prison sentence. it seems the more people are close to "getting out" that they tend to have a countdown ready to go till they are free, to do what they want, any old time...

but think about it... your boss's boss's boss is the warden, your boss's boss is the C.O.'s supervisor, and your boss is the C.O. to make sure you are producing...

and if you get fired, its the same as being on probation until you are happily in a new prison... your parole officer is the unemployment office, making sure you are continually & consistantly looking for that new prison to fall into and you cannot get out until retirement age, once you are usless and unneeded. you get ten years of ACTUAL freedom until your body can't produce its own waste and you get to the age where you can't wipe your own butt, providing younger "inmates" of the former system to be your wipe aides until you die.

i say make my office chair the electric chair and let the powers that be turn on the flow when there's a need for me on the other side.

until then... i got 22 years to go.

sort of like...

some say i am a fine writer and i am not so sure of that but i guess i am one of those books you can't put down... most of the reading i do is online so i understand the first person point of view...

some say i should be an author of a book or so and honestly i have about 6 "chapters" written... but how long does a chapter have to be? or even a book? could this blog be a book? i think in this day and age any words on an assumed page could be considered a book and besides those of value in museums and such, the wave of the future will probably be ridden by e-"books" to furthur damage our eyes like the computer screen has. remember what happens if you sit too close to the tv? well, same thing as before, except the forcefield stopping all that radiation in this case is a keyboard...

so what's all this mean?

i was watching the BBC america station and it showed a guy from top gear who, some say, drives really slow. in fact he is the head man for the job, so he is called "captain slow" on the show. james may has a drinking show all about wines and such as well and what i noticed is this:

english people use "sort of" in place of the american teen's obsession of "like" and use it in the same way:

"this wine tastes, sort of, oaky and goes down your throat with a, sort of, smooth silky texture... "

bring that a bit west and it comes out like this:

"i, like, taste the barrels of oak in the wine and, like, um, enjoy the smoothness of it."

if you watch enough BBC you will notice the english and those from the UK use "sort of" in a way like no other... i can only describe it as one that resembles that of a US teen's use of "like". yet oddly i don't find it annoying like you would from a valley girlish teenager.

some say i repeat myself, but others say it is good to say things more than once to get your point across.

either way, like, to sort of hear more 'some say's, watch the ORIGINAL top gear on the BBC... ! the american version is, sort of, rather it IS a rip off from the stunts they do to everything else. i only saw one of them and it had been an american replica of a top gear rerun i had just seen. and the FACT that they have a new season (the american top gear) shows you why there are no good new movies or tv shows out there anymore...

wow this turned into a side note that should change the sort of like post into a massacre...

but really... Mel Brooks had it right when Colonel Sanders and Helmet were looking to find Lonestar, Barfolomew, Princess Vespa and Dot Matrix when they crash landed on the moon of Vega... they had the VHS copies of the movie made and ready to go before the movie was finished... ("OK PASS THIS, PASS THIS PART... IN FACT NEVER PLAY THIS AGAIN" -- Helmet watching himself fly into the ship's dashboard when they went from ludicrous speed to a dead stop and he crushed his helmet... prequel to the infamous "we're at now, now" scene... ) thats kinda like watching a sequel before watching the prequel when you didn't know the sequel even had a prequel or was it the original movie... ?

ever watch a dog chase its tail? its sort of like that.

III

PS... DONT EXPECT CAPITALIZATION IN THIS BLOG... its more of free flowing thoughts and ideas... if i decide to capitalize i will, if i don't i wont... same with all other forms of punctuation, mostly contractions... and the triple period is my way of writing a period sometimes, other times not... just deal with it.