April 2004 Archives

(sigh)

*exhale*

ya see, i knew this was gonna happen.
and it did.

that's why i asked about tossing me in the trunk since i'm quiet and don't eat much.

but you didn't reply, so...

here i am.
blah.

how much difference does it make?

i see no point in pretending. sometimes i get a little frustrated. everyday i am so frustrated. if i really let my mind wander it goes so many places so quickly i can't catch my breath.

i feel like i'm losing every battle i choose to fight, but if i don't fight i'll never win.

i could just scream or cry or burst into flames.

sorry.

if you can
do what you would like to do
say what you'd like to say
take a second to remember
take a second to think what it means to you
don't dream, stop dreaming
make it real, make time
if you can
hold that person tight
for a little while
hold that person
as long as you can
if you can, make it last
hold them while you can
because all you have is this moment
even if you can't say it, hold them for a little while
connect
don't be afraid
how many times in your life can this happen?
how many people will do this to you?
how many people will do this for you?
hold on
hold them
if you feel it, you feel it
so feel it!
it won't last forever
they won't last forever
you won't last forever
all you have is this moment
open up
it's safe
you're safe here

Could she not be your sister? Your twin sister!?

Wanna know who she is? Click here.

Threw you the obvious
And you flew with it on your back
A name in your recollection
Down among a million same
difficult not to feel a little bit disappointed
passed over
When I've looked right through
To see you naked and oblivious
and you don't see me

Well I threw you the obvious,
Just to see if there's more behind the
Eyes of a fallen angel
Eyes of a tragedy

Here I am expecting just a little bit
Too much from the wounded
But I see
See through it all
See through,
And see you

So I threw you the obvious
to see what occurs behind the
Eyes of a fallen angel
Eyes of a tragedy

oh well...

Apparently nothing.
Apparently nothing at all.

1. Moving by itself; self-propelling or self-propelled.

Are you automotive?

I almost made it today. I ate an English muffin and drank two smoothies.
Damned English muffin.

Spent some time at the Broadbent arena tonight, caught a glimpse of an amazon viking wearing a golden miniskirt and a horned hat. It could've been good, but it wasn't. It was bad, very bad.

Lifted again, a little. Laundered. Wav'd.

Just obtained a nice, cold, fizzy glass of ice cold ass, err... Sam's Choice Diet Caffeine Free Cola. Yummy goodness.

Needless to say, it's been quite a night.

Nanoo, nanoo.

still have some kind of bug up my ass, still feeling an itch i can't scratch.

i mean, ya know, in addition to the average, daily, run o'the mill disenchanted off-kilter strangiosity that normally is going on inside my head.

i continue to ween myself from food. when the food i have now is gone, that's it. no more. don't know how long i'll be able to do it, or even if i can at all, but i'm pretty positive about things. my non-sexy belly is smoothie central, baby! and the evening walks are nice. and my on-again, off-again affair with lifting has been on-again for a couple of weeks now. oh, and yonder torso track. feel the burn. still, no noticeable difference in size yet. but my freakin' body has just got to get the picture soon. there really is no possible way i can keep up like this and not achieve some body loss.

more with the different weird lately.
it's been months, maybe months and months, but the sex dreams have returned! cripes! i've boinked every girl i know in the last week, sometimes two a night. that's something that will leave you feeling not quite right when you wake up, lemme tell ya. in my dreams, i'm never allowed to get off. some shit always happens that interrupts things. does that mean something? probably not. only that i have shitty dreams. at least in my dreams you girls are diggin' me as much as i'm diggin' you. why can't that happen for real? oh yeah, now i remember. i'm one ugly mofo.

You would like to be hearing my voice?

Click here for strangeness!

i know, i've really gotta quit with the music reference blog titles. but it's the silly things that make it all alright, ya know?

my gal al phoned my gal kris last night with relationship malfunction issues.
i listened in for a good long while, hearing nothing but raging and bad words and, to my thoughts, bad advice.

so i popped in with the male perspective and the Voice of Reason, that voice I seem to be able to conjure up pretty well. Kinda proud of the way I handled that. I was right, and I hope she listens. but if not...ah well.

It seems like there are things I need to be saying, and I know there are things upon my mind, but I can't capture them tonight. I guess they need to simmer a little more.

the old ones did.
but these new ones haven't, wouldn't.
they've proven it over and again.
it makes me feel so good!
not everybody sucks!

she strikes again out of nowhere, when i least expect it. BLAM!

even better than the diorama...

now it's my turn, but i don't think i'll be able to top this packaging.

but i'll give it a shot!

The last few days have been one super-extended, hyper-intensive conniption fit for me.

I've done nothing but spit and spew corrosive vitriol at everyone and everything.

So it started Saturday.
I was sitting on the couch, tying my shoes, about ready to leave for work.
I don't remember what thing came on the television, but I cursed at it for five minutes.

Then I drove to work.
So it was like, twenty til nine in the morning the day of Thunder Over Fucking Louisville.
And my exit was blocked by a cop car.
I go to the next exit and make my down and around and over to Main Street. I'm waayy down on Main, trying to get one street over to Washington.
But I can't get there.
All right turns are blocked.
Until finally, right down by the 2nd St bridge I'm able to turn.
But then I can barely make my down Washington for all the assclowns walking right down the middle of the street.
I make it to my garage and have to talk my way into my own parking garage to some chunky little girl with a list of names.

Walking out of the garage I notice the entire waterfront area is freaking jammed with people. Did I mention it's not even nine am yet?

Saturday evening I'm at mom and dad's with Kris.
We go out in the yard for awhile to throw a baseball to and fro.
In the sun.

Saturday night, late.
Headache.
Sunday morning I go to get a drink and notice the ice in the freezer isn't ice.
It's water.
Kris calls maintenance.
We put most of our food in a cooler with ice.
Sunday. All day. Headache.
Late Sunday afternoon, maintenance finally shows up.
They say it's fixed, we put our food back.
More headache.
Sunday night, notice the fridge is still broken and all our food is bad.

Monday morning.
Headache gone!
Call maintenance again.
I go to work.
Kris stays home from school.
Maintenance shows up at 3:00 pm.
3:00 PM!! Assfuckers.
They don't even look at the fridge.
They say they will get us a new one, it will be a couple of days.

So, in the meantime, we're going to drink...?? Eat??
Who's paying for all the food that is rotting in the fridge?

And I received the thing in the mail telling us we have to buy new tags for our vehicles. $200. Yeah. I don't have that. I have about, oh... thirty-five cents extra this month.

Grrrrr.

It's a Happy Hat! It's Bright! It's Yellow! It's Bright Yellow!

It's a Bright Yellow Happy Hat!

And I'm wearing it!

I'm wearing a Bright Yellow Happy Hat!

Come to think of it, there isn't much I haven't revealed about myself here.
You know just about all there is to know!

Oh, wait...no you don't. But you do know many things.

I try to throw you off by lying sometimes, but I'm sure you can see through that by now.

What does it say about me that I seem to be so ready, so willing, so...eager to tell you all the good, the bad, banal and ugly of my thoughts and actions? Does my self-revelation, in itself, reveal things about me?

What does it say about you that you are reading this stuff? What does it say that it's not just you and me anymore - that there a quite a few silent lurkers hanging out and reading along?

I wondered this, so I will ask you. You make a point to be strong and self-reliant. So do I. It's one of our bonds. But, you wear it like a badge of honor. And yet, I wonder this: does hiding behind a wall and clinging to secrets make you stronger or weaker than me? At first thought, it seems like a weaker thing to just talk and talk about yourself, to let everything be known. But on second thought, maybe it takes more strength to be able to let everything be known and accept the consequences, let the chips fall where they might.

Please don't take it the wrong way. I really do wonder. What would your answer be? I can honestly see it both ways.

Addendum:

About an hour later and I've thought about this some more.
You might be thinking - what secrets? what the fuck are you talking about?

I'm not sure.

Sometimes I get jealous. I wish I could be the one to know, I wish I was the one you told. But only sometimes. And yes, I know I can't be.

I can deal.

So I don't think what I meant to say was "secrets". I meant something else that I haven't quite put my finger on.

I guess you can strike the "secrets" part from above. Keep the self-reliant part.

Maybe now I've confused you. I'm pretty sure I've confused myself.

Ferk!

An integral part of my grooming routine includes proper pubic maintenance.

Among the many reasons I do this:

1. A shaggy man-bush is just unpleasant looking.

2. Heightened sexual pleasure, both solo and with a partner.

3. I maintain a porn persona, and you don't see porn guys with long and curlies.

Over the years I've gone for several different looks, from designs to trimmed close to shaved. Currently, and most preferably, I'm sporting the shaved look.

Having been doing this for some time now, I still get nervous bringing a razor anywhere near my area. It must some kind of instinctual response..."blade+balls=danger". Warning! Warning!

Once I begin, though, the nerves calm and I get to work. Easy stuff first: treasure trail, patch, and the base of the shaft. Next are the sides - between the thighs and the sack, then each ball.

Then it is time to go after the tough spots. Tough spot #1 - the seam between the balls. Careful! You do NOT want to cut yourself shaving here. Let me reiterate: You do NOT want that to happen. Finesse and diligence are needed.

Finally, below the nuts...on the edge of Asstown. It's not like you can see what you're doing. If you can somehow work a mirror into the equation, more power to you. I don't have enough hands for that. I basically just work the razor around ever so gently, short strokes, and work off of the sense of touch. Keep at it until you can only feel silky softness. This is one of those places that it's okay for a guy to be silky soft. Please, no callouses.

No, I'm not sure why I decided to write about this tonight. I haven't written about it before, and you probably haven't read anything about it before - isn't that reason enough?

Perhaps one of you ladies can share Your Feminine Experience with me?

fuck mornings.

fuck mornings with a big rubber dick.

bah!

...have this wish i wish tonight.

some things need to be screamed, some things need to be whispered.

some things i tell you, some things you already know.

some things you keep hidden, some things you show.

open your door and let me in

don't make me keep knocking and knocking

sometimes i get tired and sit down with my back against the wood

should i get up and go home?

and then you slip a note underneath

it says "knock one more time"

so i do. i tap tap tap on the door.

and the knob turns and the door starts to open,

just a little, just a little bit.

i can see you.

you can see me.

i can smell your perfume...

and i whisper

"can i come in now?"

you whisper back to me

"i don't think i want you to"

and you close the door again

and you sit down with your back against the wood

and wonder what you should do about me

I saw a snap of myself early this morning, got the itch to fuckin' vomit. I don't really look that way, do I? At least I don't have to see myself very often. Not a pleasant experience.

Time blurs by. The weekend was short and strange.

Friday night events occurred, sleep didn't. Drifted off around 6:30 Saturday morning. Woke up around ten. Therefore, no work. That made me angry/happy.

Saturday day. Needed a nap. Nope.
Lots of phone time. Cleaning. Laundry. Take lunch to the Gallery. Haircut. Cleaned the truck. More cleaning at home.

Then I passed out for about an hour. Sledgehammer to the brain sleep.

Last week I had to remove the "comments" feature on the blog itself.

Personally, I thought that sucked. There was always the chance that somebody could leave one.

So tonight I'm proud to unveil the new "interact" menu option. Click it and you'll find my new forums. You won't have to register to use them, but I think it would be cool if you did.

I kind of doubt many people will use the forums, but it will end up being kind of a nifty reference section if only for me.

So anyway. We'll see how it goes.

Enjoy!

the reason i was so sleepy, the reason for the lack of conversation -

last night turned out to be headache night.
BAD headache night.

Up. Down.

Up.

Up.

Up.

Down.

Up again.

Just call me fatty.

I don't eat. Yet, I gain the weight.

I do the exercises. Yet, I gain the weight.

So I eat even less. I don't eat for two days.

I lose three pounds.

Then I get really hungry and have a sandwich.

Gain five pounds.

I fucking hate this. Hate, hate, hate. This, this, this.

I'm so addicted to iTunes.

I know I've told you before, but it bears repeating!

For instance, I was able to nab the brand new single from Thornley tonight. I've been waiting for this for...three fucking years. This is Ian Thornley, former lead man for Big Wreck. I'm happy to announce that the new one proves that Ian was Big Wreck. Awesome.

Also, although I'd tucked the name Hayley Westenra into my "remember to find out more" file, I was able to fulfill that duty tonight. I pulled down four of her songs and am effectively blown away. According to her website she's sixteen. Jebus, the talent keeps coming at younger and younger ages.

Last week it was Aerosmith's new Honkin' on Bobo and Toby Lightman. I can't get enough!

I'm completely exhausted and I'm about ready to pass out from sleepiness. But I can't go to bed without at least trying to write a little about what happened tonight.

Today I am 30 years old.

30 Years Old! That in itself is unbelievable.

And I've been kinda down in the dumps about it. Totally freaked out by it.

So without going into all kinds of detail, let's just say I got WHAMMED with a suprise party. My first one ever! And man oh man did I ever get gotten!

And I was totally embarrassed. I looked like hell and I was dressed like a bum. I really wish I could've made myself presentable.

But after I got over the initial shock and the embarrassment, I was completely moved.

Kris moved Heaven and Earth to make this happen, and I'll be forever grateful for that. It really was the greatest gift I've ever, ever received. Thank you so much, pie! Love, Love, Love, Love!!

I'll be thinking of this for a long, long, long time to come.

It was a long weekend - no time to write.

I do have some things to say, though. Come back tonight, alright?

I'm not sure what's been going on, but my site stats have been steadily increasing for several months now. Maybe I'm doing something right? Nah!

For the month of March, as you can see above, this site broke 2000 unique visitors for the very first time. I know that's not an amazing number for most sites, but for this one it most certainly is.

Thanks.