On this, a rainy and mundane Wednesday, I was contemplating writing a little bit about how I like rainy days in the Smokies but only if you get to stay inside under a blanket with a good book blah blah blah... I wasn't really excited about it, but I figured that it wasn't a really exciting day so it might work. Then I decided to look up the Scrutiny Hooligans, just to see what my leftist pink-o commie brothers were having to say. Take a look at this site if you are left of the dial and really pissed about the way things are going. It's leftist rhetoric, to be sure, but they do a good job with the writing and the documentation.
It was here that I found my topic. I hadn't read the page this week and came across something that made me think a few entries in. A site called World Audit has taken polls from around the globe and come up with a list of the top democracies in the world.
Now, I want to review for a moment: We are now, under the current administration, in the business of bringing democracies to those poor, under-privileged countries that are in dire need of freedom. This is the administrations stated policy (never mind about being under threat of annihilation from Weapons of Mass Destruction, turns out there weren't any, so this is why we invaded a sovereign nation with no provocation), and this is also what they are trying to sell to us as gospel for our starting to threaten other countries. The United States is the heroic herald of democracy and its purpose is to initiate an era of world unity with our style democracy.
Are you happy with your democracy? Take a deep breath and ask yourself, "Do I have all the liberties that feel entitled to?" Sure, you’re comfortable. We are very comfortable here in America, but are we free? More than are we free, are we free enough to validate our using military force to enforce democracy on others?
In the list of top democracies from World Audit, we didn't even make the top ten.
We're 13.
The countries ahead of us enjoy more civil liberties, more basic freedoms, and more inalienable rights than we do. Their populations are happier and more productive. They are doing more to help on a global scale than our form of government. And, yet, they do not feel the need to spread their ideas by force.
But, we are powerful. So, if the reason is not because we are trying to spread democracy to increase the world’s freedoms, but because we have the capability to, then it's not democracy anymore. It's imperialism.
Please take a stand. Write someone, anyone. Read and comment. Show that there are more than a noisy rabble of us. If you're scared, scream. Just because the right talks louder and curse more vehemently, it doesn't mean that they are in the majority. We can push them back into place and get back to the business that his country was founded on: increasing our station in life.
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
My favorite animal is steak.Fran Lebowitz(1950 - )
My office has just been informed of perhaps the most progressive thing to happen to the male/female relations structure since Eve showed Adam how to have a good time. Apparently, in a move of extreme good taste and fair sportsmanship, March 14th (one month after St. Valentine's Day) has been declared "Steak and Blowjob Day!" Break out the confetti and warm up trumpets, or what ever you want to blow. Unfortunately, today being the 15th, "Steak and Blowjob Day" has passed by for another year, but now you fellows out there can be just as upset as your ladies would be if Valentines were to slip your mind. Stand up for your holiday, demand compensation!
Before I start getting the comments back about this being horribly against feminine culture, it was a woman in my office that informed us all of this soon to be beloved holiday (I work in a really cool office). I have no doubt that a man came up with this concept (or at least quickly seconded by one), but I know plenty of women who would not be opposed to a new excuse to shut the bedroom door and “spend some quality time” with their man. However, if you are a woman out there who finds this offensive and find bj's icky, than I most sincerely apologize. I also feel sorry for you because you are ignoring a very lucrative asset. The blowjob, when done well, is an incredibly powerful motivator to any man. Women who wield this talent are rarely forgotten on St. Valentine's Day, or St. Patrick's Day or All Saint's Day or just about any other day of the week. In honor of "Steak and Blowjob Day," I say embrace the blowjob, ladies; it is your friend and ally. (Remember, guys, we are not without our own bag of tricks that are just as powerful and a hell of a lot of fun.)
Remember March 14th for next year everyone, it's kinda like St.Val's Day, only skip the bullshit and get to the lovin'!
Oh, yeah, and steaks are really good, too.
(ps - if any of you women out there want any further explanation of the power of foreplay, I will be more than happy to give short lectures.)
Before I start getting the comments back about this being horribly against feminine culture, it was a woman in my office that informed us all of this soon to be beloved holiday (I work in a really cool office). I have no doubt that a man came up with this concept (or at least quickly seconded by one), but I know plenty of women who would not be opposed to a new excuse to shut the bedroom door and “spend some quality time” with their man. However, if you are a woman out there who finds this offensive and find bj's icky, than I most sincerely apologize. I also feel sorry for you because you are ignoring a very lucrative asset. The blowjob, when done well, is an incredibly powerful motivator to any man. Women who wield this talent are rarely forgotten on St. Valentine's Day, or St. Patrick's Day or All Saint's Day or just about any other day of the week. In honor of "Steak and Blowjob Day," I say embrace the blowjob, ladies; it is your friend and ally. (Remember, guys, we are not without our own bag of tricks that are just as powerful and a hell of a lot of fun.)
Remember March 14th for next year everyone, it's kinda like St.Val's Day, only skip the bullshit and get to the lovin'!
Oh, yeah, and steaks are really good, too.
(ps - if any of you women out there want any further explanation of the power of foreplay, I will be more than happy to give short lectures.)
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
angrykoala8qn
Whenever you see a koala on the Tonight Show or Animal Planet, you only think, "Oh, what a cute little guy..." Well, I'm here to tell you, don't call them cute to their face and try to snap a picture. They've got a bad Napoleon complex. I'm still pulling eucalyptus leaves out of my ass.
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Chaos is the score upon which reality is written.Henry Miller (1891 - 1980)
There is something to be said for simple chaos. A slight turn of the head and we see things in a different light. Turn the noggin a degree more and catch a hummingbird in the eye. There is chaos in everything. Even the most mundane of daily activities (turning the shower on in the morning, searching your pockets for the front door keys, licking a stripper) are strewn with the minefields of simple chaos. Nothing is as it seems; in fact, those things that seem the most like what they seem are more than likely the most unseemly of things.
You may be now scratching your head and watching carefully for rouge hummingbirds out of the corner of your eye. Allow me to delve into madness further....
I was once a zealot of control. With iron clad mittens I grasped hard onto reality and try to wrest it into submission. Nothing was outside my scope of power. My view was like that of an old school god, terrible and all encompassing. If you did not fall under my reason than you were a mortal enemy of the state of being. It was my job to tear heathenistic thoughts from the minds of the unwashed masses and shame them into accepting penitence. Wrong thought was not to be tolerated. I was in control and it was the way it was going to be.
And then control was not there. The death grip I had on it was nothing but an illusion. I was only digging into my own flesh, bleeding out confusion and fear. I was alone, unable to understand or stop this terrible thing washing over me. I held up my hands up against the flood and commanded it to stop. It did not. I wrapped my arms around my trembling body and demanded it to be still. It would not. I buried my fingers into my slipping mind and implored it to stay put. It could not. As I lay, powerless, and lost my control, the waves of chaos washed over me.
And I opened my eyes. And I saw the world in chaos. And I rose.
Chaos told me secrets; such as there are no secrets, no rules, and no reality. There were only perceptions, infinite perceptions, joined by simple chaos. The perceptions are the ectoplasm that molds and swirls and feels and loves and explains and lies. Chaos was the motivator, the movement, and the reason of being. Together, they hold and cradle us. Together, the thrash and beat us. They are the goddesses that both nourish us from their breasts and rend us with their great teeth. And there is nothing we can do about it.
So I fell from control, and accepted that control was only a load of glamour I had created to try to find permanence. No body is right, wrong or neutral. They are simple chaotic. And you can never trust the perception of chaos because you look with only one set of eyes, blind to the rest of it all. But that's OK, because there is nothing to be done about it anyway.
When you turn on you shower in the morning and only cold water comes out, don't stomp around and curse the water heater. Climb in and experience the coldness. When your are searching for keys and instead pull out a forgotten fiver, don't wonder at how it ended up there. Just accept that that is where it wanted to be until that time it felt like being found. When you lick a stripper, whether on purpose and by mistake, remember that only a chaotic series of events have brought you and the stripper together in the first place, so feel too ashamed the next morning.
I hope that helps. Watch out for the hummingbird.
You may be now scratching your head and watching carefully for rouge hummingbirds out of the corner of your eye. Allow me to delve into madness further....
I was once a zealot of control. With iron clad mittens I grasped hard onto reality and try to wrest it into submission. Nothing was outside my scope of power. My view was like that of an old school god, terrible and all encompassing. If you did not fall under my reason than you were a mortal enemy of the state of being. It was my job to tear heathenistic thoughts from the minds of the unwashed masses and shame them into accepting penitence. Wrong thought was not to be tolerated. I was in control and it was the way it was going to be.
And then control was not there. The death grip I had on it was nothing but an illusion. I was only digging into my own flesh, bleeding out confusion and fear. I was alone, unable to understand or stop this terrible thing washing over me. I held up my hands up against the flood and commanded it to stop. It did not. I wrapped my arms around my trembling body and demanded it to be still. It would not. I buried my fingers into my slipping mind and implored it to stay put. It could not. As I lay, powerless, and lost my control, the waves of chaos washed over me.
And I opened my eyes. And I saw the world in chaos. And I rose.
Chaos told me secrets; such as there are no secrets, no rules, and no reality. There were only perceptions, infinite perceptions, joined by simple chaos. The perceptions are the ectoplasm that molds and swirls and feels and loves and explains and lies. Chaos was the motivator, the movement, and the reason of being. Together, they hold and cradle us. Together, the thrash and beat us. They are the goddesses that both nourish us from their breasts and rend us with their great teeth. And there is nothing we can do about it.
So I fell from control, and accepted that control was only a load of glamour I had created to try to find permanence. No body is right, wrong or neutral. They are simple chaotic. And you can never trust the perception of chaos because you look with only one set of eyes, blind to the rest of it all. But that's OK, because there is nothing to be done about it anyway.
When you turn on you shower in the morning and only cold water comes out, don't stomp around and curse the water heater. Climb in and experience the coldness. When your are searching for keys and instead pull out a forgotten fiver, don't wonder at how it ended up there. Just accept that that is where it wanted to be until that time it felt like being found. When you lick a stripper, whether on purpose and by mistake, remember that only a chaotic series of events have brought you and the stripper together in the first place, so feel too ashamed the next morning.
I hope that helps. Watch out for the hummingbird.
Friday, March 04, 2005
My heart, which is so full to overflowing, has often been solaced and refreshed by music when sick and weary. Martin Luther(1483 - 1546)
Jenny, Hellcat to the stars, sent me this little treasure...
Your Birthday Song(s)
Put in your birthday and find out what the No. 1 song was on that day. It'll show you in both the US and UK charts. Plug in and share the wealth. Go on, everyone’s doing it. Also put in your 18th birthday to see what your theme song is. Mine was "Hero" by Mariah Carey, so I am not so sure of the validation of this one. But the rest is really cool...
In England, I would have been rocking out to "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen as I slipped onto this mortal coil. Here in the good old US of A, the number one song on the day I was born, a cold and blustery Jan. 10th in the year of our Lord 1976, was "Convoy" by C. W. McCall. I'm so happy I could spit!
For those who do not remember "Convoy," it was a novelty song inspired by the CB craze of the mid 1970's sung by made-up character C.W. McCall (C= Country, W= Western). Most people think Johnny Cash did the tune, but despite the similarity in the voices, C.W. McCall was actually Bill Fries, an Omaha graphic designer who created the truckin' legend for a local bakery. God love Nebraskans, a trucker selling rolls (Get it, GET IT!). Fries put out a few albums but left music in 1977 to champion environmental rights and become mayor of the small Colorado town of Ouray. In 1978, Sam Peckinpah made a movie based on the song with Kris Kristofferson and Ally McGraw. It has been harold as an athem for the plight of truckers and there troubles with the oppresive Hyway Patrol. Brings up images of Smokey and The Bandit, huh? "Hold on to your ass, Fred!"
I love this song, and now people in my office think I am extremely weird. When I saw my result I squealed like some sort of man-child on crack. All morning I have been singing the chorus over and over again. I am usually very quiet and reserved here in the land of working people. This is the first time they've seen me get onto one of my silly tangents that keep me giggling like the Joker. They'll have to get to used to it, though, because now I am officially part of the great big convoy...
Convoy
CW McCall
[On the CB]
Ah, breaker one-nine, this here's the Rubber Duck. You gotta copy on me, Pig
Pen, c'mon? Ah, yeah, 10-4, Pig Pen, fer shure, fer shure. By golly, it's clean
clear to Flag Town, c'mon. Yeah, that's a big 10-4 there, Pig Pen, yeah, we
definitely got the front door, good buddy. Mercy sakes alive, looks like we got
us a convoy...
Was the dark of the moon on the sixth of June
In a Kenworth pullin' logs
Cab-over Pete with a reefer on
And a Jimmy haulin' hogs
We is headin' for bear on I-one-oh
'Bout a mile outta Shaky Town
I says, "Pig Pen, this here's the Rubber Duck.
"And I'm about to put the hammer down."
[Chorus]
'Cause we got a little convoy
Rockin' through the night.
Yeah, we got a little convoy,
Ain't she a beautiful sight?
Come on and join our convoy
Ain't nothin' gonna get in our way.
We gonna roll this truckin' convoy
'Cross the U-S-A.
Convoy!
[On the CB]
Ah, breaker, Pig Pen, this here's the Duck. And, you wanna back off them hogs?
Yeah, 10-4, 'bout five mile or so. Ten, roger. Them hogs is gettin' in-tense up
here.
By the time we got into Tulsa Town,
We had eighty-five trucks in all.
But they's a roadblock up on the cloverleaf,
And them bears was wall-to-wall.
Yeah, them smokies is thick as bugs on a bumper;
They even had a bear in the air!
I says, "Callin' all trucks, this here's the Duck.
"We about to go a-huntin' bear."
[Chorus]
'Cause we got a great big convoy
Rockin' through the night.
Yeah, we got a great big convoy,
Ain't she a beautiful sight?
Come on and join our convoy
Ain't nothin' gonna get in our way.
We gonna roll this truckin' convoy
'Cross the U-S-A.
Convoy!
[On the CB]
Ah, you wanna give me a 10-9 on that, Pig Pen? Negatory, Pig Pen; you're still
too close. Yeah, them hogs is startin' to close up my sinuses. Mercy sakes, you
better back off another ten.
Well, we rolled up Interstate 44
Like a rocket sled on rails.
We tore up all of our swindle sheets,
And left 'em settin' on the scales.
By the time we hit that Chi-town,
Them bears was a-gettin' smart:
They'd brought up some reinforcements
From the Illinoise National Guard.
There's armored cars, and tanks, and jeeps,
And rigs of ev'ry size.
Yeah, them chicken coops was full'a bears
And choppers filled the skies.
Well, we shot the line and we went for broke
With a thousand screamin' trucks
An' eleven long-haired Friends a' Jesus
In a chartreuse micra-bus.
[On the CB]
Ah, Rubber Duck to Sodbuster, come over. Yeah, 10-4, Sodbuster? Lissen, you
wanna put that micra-bus right behind that suicide jockey? Yeah, he's haulin'
dynamite, and he needs all the help he can get.
Well, we laid a strip for the Jersey shore
And prepared to cross the line
I could see the bridge was lined with bears
But I didn't have a dog-goned dime.
I says, "Pig Pen, this here's the Rubber Duck.
"We just ain't a-gonna pay no toll."
So we crashed the gate doing ninety-eight
I says "Let them truckers roll, 10-4."
[Chorus]
'Cause we got a mighty convoy
Rockin' through the night.
Yeah, we got a mighty convoy,
Ain't she a beautiful sight?
Come on and join our convoy
Ain't nothin' gonna get in our way.
We gonna roll this truckin' convoy
'Cross the U-S-A.
Convoy! Ah, 10-4, Pig Pen, what's your twenty?
Convoy! OMAHA? Well, they oughta know what to do with them hogs out there fer
shure. Well, mercy
Convoy! sakes, good buddy, we gonna back on outta here, so keep the bugs off
your glass and the bears off your...
Convoy! tail. We'll catch you on the flip-flop. This here's the Rubber Duck on
the side.
Convoy! We gone. 'Bye,'bye.
Your Birthday Song(s)
Put in your birthday and find out what the No. 1 song was on that day. It'll show you in both the US and UK charts. Plug in and share the wealth. Go on, everyone’s doing it. Also put in your 18th birthday to see what your theme song is. Mine was "Hero" by Mariah Carey, so I am not so sure of the validation of this one. But the rest is really cool...
In England, I would have been rocking out to "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen as I slipped onto this mortal coil. Here in the good old US of A, the number one song on the day I was born, a cold and blustery Jan. 10th in the year of our Lord 1976, was "Convoy" by C. W. McCall. I'm so happy I could spit!
For those who do not remember "Convoy," it was a novelty song inspired by the CB craze of the mid 1970's sung by made-up character C.W. McCall (C= Country, W= Western). Most people think Johnny Cash did the tune, but despite the similarity in the voices, C.W. McCall was actually Bill Fries, an Omaha graphic designer who created the truckin' legend for a local bakery. God love Nebraskans, a trucker selling rolls (Get it, GET IT!). Fries put out a few albums but left music in 1977 to champion environmental rights and become mayor of the small Colorado town of Ouray. In 1978, Sam Peckinpah made a movie based on the song with Kris Kristofferson and Ally McGraw. It has been harold as an athem for the plight of truckers and there troubles with the oppresive Hyway Patrol. Brings up images of Smokey and The Bandit, huh? "Hold on to your ass, Fred!"
I love this song, and now people in my office think I am extremely weird. When I saw my result I squealed like some sort of man-child on crack. All morning I have been singing the chorus over and over again. I am usually very quiet and reserved here in the land of working people. This is the first time they've seen me get onto one of my silly tangents that keep me giggling like the Joker. They'll have to get to used to it, though, because now I am officially part of the great big convoy...
Convoy
CW McCall
[On the CB]
Ah, breaker one-nine, this here's the Rubber Duck. You gotta copy on me, Pig
Pen, c'mon? Ah, yeah, 10-4, Pig Pen, fer shure, fer shure. By golly, it's clean
clear to Flag Town, c'mon. Yeah, that's a big 10-4 there, Pig Pen, yeah, we
definitely got the front door, good buddy. Mercy sakes alive, looks like we got
us a convoy...
Was the dark of the moon on the sixth of June
In a Kenworth pullin' logs
Cab-over Pete with a reefer on
And a Jimmy haulin' hogs
We is headin' for bear on I-one-oh
'Bout a mile outta Shaky Town
I says, "Pig Pen, this here's the Rubber Duck.
"And I'm about to put the hammer down."
[Chorus]
'Cause we got a little convoy
Rockin' through the night.
Yeah, we got a little convoy,
Ain't she a beautiful sight?
Come on and join our convoy
Ain't nothin' gonna get in our way.
We gonna roll this truckin' convoy
'Cross the U-S-A.
Convoy!
[On the CB]
Ah, breaker, Pig Pen, this here's the Duck. And, you wanna back off them hogs?
Yeah, 10-4, 'bout five mile or so. Ten, roger. Them hogs is gettin' in-tense up
here.
By the time we got into Tulsa Town,
We had eighty-five trucks in all.
But they's a roadblock up on the cloverleaf,
And them bears was wall-to-wall.
Yeah, them smokies is thick as bugs on a bumper;
They even had a bear in the air!
I says, "Callin' all trucks, this here's the Duck.
"We about to go a-huntin' bear."
[Chorus]
'Cause we got a great big convoy
Rockin' through the night.
Yeah, we got a great big convoy,
Ain't she a beautiful sight?
Come on and join our convoy
Ain't nothin' gonna get in our way.
We gonna roll this truckin' convoy
'Cross the U-S-A.
Convoy!
[On the CB]
Ah, you wanna give me a 10-9 on that, Pig Pen? Negatory, Pig Pen; you're still
too close. Yeah, them hogs is startin' to close up my sinuses. Mercy sakes, you
better back off another ten.
Well, we rolled up Interstate 44
Like a rocket sled on rails.
We tore up all of our swindle sheets,
And left 'em settin' on the scales.
By the time we hit that Chi-town,
Them bears was a-gettin' smart:
They'd brought up some reinforcements
From the Illinoise National Guard.
There's armored cars, and tanks, and jeeps,
And rigs of ev'ry size.
Yeah, them chicken coops was full'a bears
And choppers filled the skies.
Well, we shot the line and we went for broke
With a thousand screamin' trucks
An' eleven long-haired Friends a' Jesus
In a chartreuse micra-bus.
[On the CB]
Ah, Rubber Duck to Sodbuster, come over. Yeah, 10-4, Sodbuster? Lissen, you
wanna put that micra-bus right behind that suicide jockey? Yeah, he's haulin'
dynamite, and he needs all the help he can get.
Well, we laid a strip for the Jersey shore
And prepared to cross the line
I could see the bridge was lined with bears
But I didn't have a dog-goned dime.
I says, "Pig Pen, this here's the Rubber Duck.
"We just ain't a-gonna pay no toll."
So we crashed the gate doing ninety-eight
I says "Let them truckers roll, 10-4."
[Chorus]
'Cause we got a mighty convoy
Rockin' through the night.
Yeah, we got a mighty convoy,
Ain't she a beautiful sight?
Come on and join our convoy
Ain't nothin' gonna get in our way.
We gonna roll this truckin' convoy
'Cross the U-S-A.
Convoy! Ah, 10-4, Pig Pen, what's your twenty?
Convoy! OMAHA? Well, they oughta know what to do with them hogs out there fer
shure. Well, mercy
Convoy! sakes, good buddy, we gonna back on outta here, so keep the bugs off
your glass and the bears off your...
Convoy! tail. We'll catch you on the flip-flop. This here's the Rubber Duck on
the side.
Convoy! We gone. 'Bye,'bye.
A new and valid idea is worth more than a regiment and fewer men can furnish the former than command the latter.Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr. (1841-1945)
After a night of drinking, I am left again to myself... Where should this lead me? What is the greater cause that I want to be a part of? When will I feel special?
There are forces at work in this life (and by this I mean only my life) that are set upon asking questions. Constant questions. Will your bowels move today? Will you find love in an equal? Do they respect you? Is that pain in your gullet an ulcer or an bit of uncooked beef? Could it be awakening? Does death wait at the end of the line, at the end of the street or at the end of the night? Can the center hold, and if it can, should it? Where is Eldorado? Who is Shadow? Lamont is long dead and yet he is still following me. Will I ever find happiness? Have I already forund it, sitting on the john, typing into the oblivion that is this nothing information exchange? Does the it all matter?
Yes.
Everything that happens to you matters. The thing is, not all of it is important. This is the balence we must find, or must not. Either path is valid, and basically goes to the same end. Just enjoy the ride.
There are forces at work in this life (and by this I mean only my life) that are set upon asking questions. Constant questions. Will your bowels move today? Will you find love in an equal? Do they respect you? Is that pain in your gullet an ulcer or an bit of uncooked beef? Could it be awakening? Does death wait at the end of the line, at the end of the street or at the end of the night? Can the center hold, and if it can, should it? Where is Eldorado? Who is Shadow? Lamont is long dead and yet he is still following me. Will I ever find happiness? Have I already forund it, sitting on the john, typing into the oblivion that is this nothing information exchange? Does the it all matter?
Yes.
Everything that happens to you matters. The thing is, not all of it is important. This is the balence we must find, or must not. Either path is valid, and basically goes to the same end. Just enjoy the ride.
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
The most wasted of all days is one without laughter.e e cummings(1894 - 1962)
I got into a discussion with a friend of mine about wasted years. J is in his mid-thirties, a medical tech of some kind, unmarried, and worried that he hasn't done enough with his life. This is a common ailment in men who haven't yet achieved all that you are supposed to by the time you can no longer deny the fact that you are a grown man. Most men are terrified of turning into the embittered bachelor, working in a dead end job with no family to come home to and sited rifle in the attic. Lord knows I am, but what's the use in worrying over it. I spent the better part of 2 hours last night trying to show J that he had a well paying job, a really nice and very pretty girlfriend, and no reason to be beating himself up just because he wasn't a 28 year old surgeon (what got the whole ball rolling). Of course, he wouldn't buy it, way to wrapped up in being upset with himself. I get to thinking and realize that was me a year ago.
I had gone through a super hard break-up, realized I was a bartender in dive bar, I had screwed my masters, and I had no motivation to do anything. I was in the same position my friend J is in; I was just focusing on the negative and reveling in it. Luckily I was able to pull my ass through. But I started to realize that there are a bunch of guys (and not to forget the ladies out there) that are in the same way I was. I am here to preach from the mountaintop: Stop worrying about it, fellows. All that crap about you are supposed to do it one way is the biggest load of crap ever dropped on mankind. There is no one-way, but as many ways as there are feet. The only thing that worrying about it does is to keep you in the same rut that you are in. If you are not happy with an aspect of your life, bleedin' well change it!
You may say, but Waide, that is easy for you, you're amazing and astounding. Yes, this is true, but even I, messiah of the twenty-somethings, get to feeling bad about certain parts of my life. No one's perfect, however you all want me to be. I, for example, am lonely. I can't buy a date in Sodom, for some reason. Now this could be to the fact that I am not a slut looking for a lay and dash, but really want to find someone to spend a bit of time with. That's not hard, you say? Bullshit, that seems so far out of the mainstream these days where everyone is supposed to be open and not care about your or anyone else’s felling. I am the rebel for looking for someone I can connect with who still rock n' rolls, thinks independently and yet is isn't scared to commit to someone and open their heart. Everyone out their is so "hurt' and "damaged" by something in the past that it seems it's going to be up the trailer park set to continue the species. I want a woman, a companion and a friend, and I am not afraid to say it.
Lord, this just turned into a personal ad. Sorry, not my intention.
My point is, we all have something we are not happy with in our lives. If this is upsetting you and you think that you are the only one out there with problems, stop it. That's really unoriginal and quite selfish, in the bad way. Everyone’s floundering out there in the viscous together, take a look at them for a while and see that you ain't special.
That said, any ladies looking for a good time, I'm a Capricorn who's into good music, groovy times and monkeys. Drop me a line and we'll see if we can't swing. (I just made myself retch, cool!)
I had gone through a super hard break-up, realized I was a bartender in dive bar, I had screwed my masters, and I had no motivation to do anything. I was in the same position my friend J is in; I was just focusing on the negative and reveling in it. Luckily I was able to pull my ass through. But I started to realize that there are a bunch of guys (and not to forget the ladies out there) that are in the same way I was. I am here to preach from the mountaintop: Stop worrying about it, fellows. All that crap about you are supposed to do it one way is the biggest load of crap ever dropped on mankind. There is no one-way, but as many ways as there are feet. The only thing that worrying about it does is to keep you in the same rut that you are in. If you are not happy with an aspect of your life, bleedin' well change it!
You may say, but Waide, that is easy for you, you're amazing and astounding. Yes, this is true, but even I, messiah of the twenty-somethings, get to feeling bad about certain parts of my life. No one's perfect, however you all want me to be. I, for example, am lonely. I can't buy a date in Sodom, for some reason. Now this could be to the fact that I am not a slut looking for a lay and dash, but really want to find someone to spend a bit of time with. That's not hard, you say? Bullshit, that seems so far out of the mainstream these days where everyone is supposed to be open and not care about your or anyone else’s felling. I am the rebel for looking for someone I can connect with who still rock n' rolls, thinks independently and yet is isn't scared to commit to someone and open their heart. Everyone out their is so "hurt' and "damaged" by something in the past that it seems it's going to be up the trailer park set to continue the species. I want a woman, a companion and a friend, and I am not afraid to say it.
Lord, this just turned into a personal ad. Sorry, not my intention.
My point is, we all have something we are not happy with in our lives. If this is upsetting you and you think that you are the only one out there with problems, stop it. That's really unoriginal and quite selfish, in the bad way. Everyone’s floundering out there in the viscous together, take a look at them for a while and see that you ain't special.
That said, any ladies looking for a good time, I'm a Capricorn who's into good music, groovy times and monkeys. Drop me a line and we'll see if we can't swing. (I just made myself retch, cool!)
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