I would like to extend the deepest thanks to the Bass beer brewing company for making one hell of a beer. Not only can I drink a fuck-metric-ton of it, but it gives the best feeling in the world, even in the hungover state. I am way hungover, but in the most functional way. I feel great and kind of hungover loopy instead of that I'm-gonna-puke-and-most-likely-die hungover. Dear god, can you not make a greater beer than that?
Yes, I broke down, dug up five bucks and went to socialize at the tavern and subsequently got a lot of beers bought for me. OH MY LORD. Do I have the greatest friends or what? That is one of the keenest advantages that being me provides. The best people are your friends.
So the fourth is coming up, and I can't be back in Kansas, but being with friends out here ain't too bad. Michelle is having a cookout and I'm hauling firewood and vegetables to it. I wanted to make chili. I make the greatest chili, but I've been assigned veg duty. I think we are also setting fire to Michelle's house or husband or something. I do remember we were talking about setting fire to something last night. I would bring the dogs, and they would love it, and I would love having my little family with me, but they'd kill some cats and we can't be doing that to Michelle. A large cat massacre at her cookout wouldn't be cricket.
I don't know why people keep asking me if I'm going to celebrate the fourth. Of course I am. One of the greatest things in this country is the freedom to be me. This country provides for a majority of it's citizenry, while trying to save the ones it can't. I criticize the government, I scrutinize the institutions and I question policies because A) I can, my constitution provides me the mechanisms to self examine and improve my country and B) As great as I know we are, we can always be better and we are the only country in the world that is self correcting to this extent. So, like it or not, I am part of what makes this country great. So is the redneck. So is the soldier. So is the politician so is the conservatives. So are the liberals. So are the forgotten moderates and shades of grey in our poor beleaguered political system.
I'm celebrating my freedom from tyranny with food, folks and fun. And beer. And apparently fire of some sort.
Since my hangover is not debilitating and actually sort of pleasant in a weird way, I'm heading to the track as soon as the ibuprofen kicks in a bit. It's a beautiful morning and I'm going to try and take advantage of it.
So, I was lazy yesterday. I felt terrible about it. And I gained three pounds which pisses me off. The thing is that it's not the weight that I think matters, or it's vanity that makes me feel slightly anguished about the three pounds, it's that I'm trying to get lighter so my frame can handle running. I love running. I thought I would never say something like that. I always said I was deathly allergic to exercise and effort. My motivation waned a bit this morning but I woke up so early that I have time to build it up again.
I have the track to do, and bills to pay today. I need to get somethings signed and notarized but I'm waiting for my roommate's delinquent funds. I have a growing yearning to gobble up a pint of Chunky Monkey, but the resulting remorse and regret would send me into a tizzy. I wish my leg would be totally well. It's getting much better, but I still have to take an inordinate amount of ibuprofen and worry about what THAT is doing to me. It allows me to run a bit, and if I can't run, I would sit in Hee Haw in a cloud of depression.
I'm looking better and feeling better. But I am getting increasingly annoyed at some of the more southern, country-fied parts of my life. I am SICK to FUCKING DEATH of a landlord who's attitude is from the 1950s giving me advice on my personal life. I'm sick to death of people being in my business. If I fucking dance down the street, do you think I fucking KNOW it? That I don't kneed some doddy old man telling me that "people" say I'm crazy? Fuck that. I grab the tiniest bits of happiness I can get here in HELL and you want me to act right? As if being different is acting wrong? Take a pill pops, or evict me, but shut the hell up. I survived without parents and parenting for 25 years, I don't need it now.
Rant over.
Flotsam & Jetsam Section:
I've never had grits. Friday, I'm going to have grits for breakfast. Yee haaa.
Milo needs a haircut. He's shedding enough hair from which I could knit an Afgan.
The fourth of July is coming up. I need to think on that, on how me, an America-hating, commie, elitist liberal feels about it. I'll get back to you on that.
Having a roommate might have a mistake. Well. Having this one might be. I'm starting to want one that is more... normal. Although I like the fact I don't see her much, that means most of the time I don't get to see roommate fundage that much either. She hasn't crossed the "okay-get-the-fuck-out" line. I'm just waiting, giving her rope to hang herself with. Wait. No. Knowing her the way I do now, let's not do that. Maybe I just want to be mad at her for some ungodly reason. Maybe I need to be more forgiving and less ... evil. I need to be more understanding. I need litium. I need something.
It's hot and sometimes muggy - not to different from home. The bugs are horrendous and numerous in volume and variety. And I'm deathly afraid of bugs, and apparently a mosquito magnet. Oh yay.
I love my dog Buddy so much, but I feel guilty that he's bored all the time. Me and the other two ancient, couch potato dogs just sit around being glad we aren't dead while Buddy longs to play out in the yard with kids or SOMEBODY. He just wants to play, and us the old'uns of the family don't. He needs kids. He needs to be with a family. He loves us to death but he needs more than a lazy old lady and two old dogs with issues.
Sigh. I guess it's time to make myself do stuff. Double yay.
*** Later ***
So, I'm back. Motivation was hard to find, but I pushed through. I feel good, and got a bit of exercise. I met a nice lady who apparently knows me - or she sees me at the track all the time and said "I noticed you are getting stronger". We got to talking and she does the same sort of work out I do, with the same goals. She measures progress the same way I do. She's a teacher. She seemed so cool. I have to admit, not everybody in Forest Shitty is a horrible example of human reproduction. Especially at the track. Progressive woman are at the track - especially if they are a little older. You get the young girls who are in shape, who've always been like that and are just there to keep up their Athenian-like body. Then you have the ones that drive to the track, have about 200 dollars of workout clothes on, one of those ipods with the athletic armband and really expensive new shoes. They do three laps and go home. And you come to me - and folks like me. We are pretty normal looking, in t-shirts and shorts, struggling around the track.
Today, it was a struggle. Leg hurt more than it should, but I got my goals accomplished. I REALLY want to cut back on the ibuprofen and I've discovered I shouldn't really miss a day because the body really rebels when you come back to try and start back up again. But I pushed myself - not beyond my limits, but pushed just to complete what i started.
I feel like hell. It was a very nice morning for the track, but I felt like shit. I ran yesterday and I really shouldn't have ate that pizza last night. I feel bad for not going out there. I'm a little down about my job situation. I have no bites even for an interview. The one that I had was for a job I couldn't afford to take. And other inquiries have been from too far away. I have other things eating at me, but it's the same shit that usually wear me down.
I guess I could clean today. And look over that mortgage paperwork.
I think because it's July now, I feel the time ebb away, and my urge to procrastinate is a hard thing to fight. I know you are only as old as you feel, and you know how I know this? People tell me this all the time. But I feel old. Older than I should, especially today. And really, I feel a bit powerless.
Wish my world was bigger these days, or at least had more in it.
Woke up early, did all my thingie-ma-bobs and headed to the track. I ran more than ever, but my leg was bothering me, so I had to stop in between miles to nurse it a bit. I don't know if 5 minutes of running counts if you do a minute then walk in agony for 30 seconds then run another minute and walk another 30 seconds with burning pain, et. al. Hope so. I am building up the stamina and the breathing and if it weren't for the searing angish of my leg, I could actually do a lap or two without stopping. I'm almost doing it now. I'm taking too much ibuprofen, and I'm trying to get someone to paypal me six bucks so I can purchase IcyHot. The nuttified roommate gave me checks I can't cash and I'm a day away from getting paid.
Dear GOD ALMIGHTY I FEEL GREAT THO. Another day of me dancing home - I get the looks, but I don't care. I'm probably the only one here in this hell hole that smiles, at least from what I can tell. And tons of people want to conversate with me at the track. I'm astounded because I try like hell to just zone out with the ipod and look scary so folks won't talk to me. But they are seeing me everyday so I guess it makes them brave. I haven't killed anyone in front of them to put the fear of god in them - you know, like when you go to prison, you beat the shit out of the first big motherfucker you see with a chair to cement your bat shit crazy reputation so you don't get ass-raped in the shower. I guess real life is a tad different thought. MAN, I feel wonderful except for the torment that is now my left leg. EGADS!!! Six bucks for IcyHot. I've had 12 ibuprofen and don't want to take anymore.
I have ONE song on my ipod that is technically a "trance" song (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trance_music) - the genre of music that is rhythmic hardcore electronica house music, is the best way to describe it. Heavy on the beat and it reminds me of being at some freaking rave, only I didn't take any E. It actually is very good to run to, and dear god, it's one more thing that smacks of Shawnness. He really wanted to get an ipod to run to this shit, and when I heard the music, it seemed to boring and repetitive to be even useful to me as entertainment. Shit, but I run to this ONE song and it works for me. Damn him, for being right again. (smile)
I have to read over this novel that Citimortgage gave me. Goddammit I procrastinate.
Head is floating on endorphins, leg is sitting on fire.
*** Later ***
SHOT BLACK TAR HEROIN INTO MY EYEBALL, LEG PAIN AMELIORATED!!!
YAWN. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. grumble. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run. must run.
*** And boy did I run ***
I was running about a mile out of two when I'm at the track. Today I ran about two thirds of that two miles. I ran so much that afterwards, I just sat there and zoned out, staring at nothing with a head empty of thoughts. I barely realized I was listening to music. That was really cool. I was pretty much a vegetable. I walked home and saw something that epitomizes the whole ethos of where I live. I saw three doors leading to.... nowhere. Good frikken god. Yup. Forest Shitty in the summer time. Yee haaa.
It's a day of rest. I got a giant blister on the back of my heel from new shoes and I figure that my owie in my calf could use a little time off before I run myself into a wheelchair. I'll do all that boring stuff that usually stresses me out - bills, mortgage, worrying about money. It's hot, but not unbearable so for me - for the dogs it might be different. Buddy killed this horrible big, and I mean big brown spider. Egads, I hate to think something like that was just walking around the house.
I think it's going to be muggy. I'll be home today, listening to Shawn King's Trash Talk, and if he's done in time, I guess I'll go to the cookout that Michelle invited me to if I still have that option. Feel sorta icky and gained about three pounds which sucks since I just lost three pounds. I ate yesterday, a bunch, and it was junk too. Apparently now, my body just doesn't like fried foods anymore. I like them, they taste good going down, they just don't like staying down.
I've just experience a perfect moment. I woke up about 20 minutes ago with the sun new in the sky, and its a cool morning. Bits and pieces of a strange dream floats in my head, which is very comforting because it indicates that things are, for the moment, at peace in my head - no stress, no worry, no dreams of foreclosure, death or loss. I have a tiny bit of money from the roommate, who is going to nickel and dime me to purgatory I'll bet every time the rent is due (here's a little, there's a little). I have food (rice and veggie soup) in the fridge from my dear friend who loves me but won't or can't admit it yet. I have a dog curled up at my feet and one at my head giving me tiny kisses on my nose. He pushes his face in my hair and snuggles. He's also farting, but, it's only intermittent so in between gassings, my perfect moment exists. I am motivated and even excited about my run, my tonnage is down to a level I've never been at since 1995, and I laid out yesterday so I'm a nutty brown redhead. My perfect moment is when I rolled over and realized all this. When the big brown eyes of my dog lain upon me and he licked my nose. When I silently flexed and felt the tightness in my body currently undergoing reconstruction. This is my perfect moment. One of VERY few I've had here in North Carolina, or in that fact, of my life.
I'm getting up to have rice and soup for breakfast, pills and crunches, and some southern sunshine to help my day. I get to see my friends today, and maybe burn a little bit more.
Citimortgage sent me a buttload of paperwork yesterday. They are making me keep my house, but they've lowered my payment. I guess I can deal with that.
Ah. The life of a flibbertigibbet is a massively complex one. I'm off like a prom dress. See you all on the flip side.
First thing I'd like to say, is that there are many more bugs than I have ever seen in my entire life here in the piney backwaters of North Carolina. And bugs that I have never seen before in my life, things with HORNS. Weird, bizarro bugs. I have never seen a fucking BLUE fly - a sapphire blue fly. Jesus H. Christ almighty, I've been bit a few hundred times, and there are ants here the size of Toyotas. I can't keep them off the dogs with all the chemicals and pills. I can't get them off me. It's just insane. I had one bite me on the cheek and leave a giant welt that is only now going away a bit.
Second thing, I was passing by a ditch on the way to the track and about ten big rats went scurrying in broad daylight. Also, the drainage/sewage system around here isn't really great - there are pools of standing water almost every where I go. It's just a major breeding ground for mosquitos and the boogie woogies that I see all over this place. I feel like some hill person living in a hovel. I've seen New York rats, and true they are five times the size of the shit I see here, but still. Back home, there is less of just everything.
I ran today. Almost a mile and some change. I have successfully transition my workout to an earlier beginning time. It makes it much better again - I am SO MUCH HAPPIER now. My track time is shorter and more intense - the time at the track is not to lose weight so much as to increase my stamina, endurance and metabolic rate. It also gives me the endorphin rush, and much time to think about things.
I do think about how I interact here. Even though I am much more outgoing now, and have more friends, I still am very aloof - I do keep to myself a great deal. I haven't really made this a home. I haven't unpacked, I haven't invested a lot, and I am proud that I am not like the people around me. I flaunt that fact, and I do everything in my power consciously and unconsciously to reinforce my differences from these people. My friends seem to care for me and for that I am eternally grateful - they accept my... oddness and some of the more trying aspects of my personality. I think it's because they are all extraordinary people, and one of my gifts is that I draw the most extraordinary people. I realize I'm not at all trying to forge a meaningful relationship with anybody although I've made overtures to garner intimacy, albeit the short, temporary kind. But the ones I want these short, temporary intimacies with are probably of an extraordinary nature and are turned off by such superficiality. So it's a catch 22. The exact quality that attracts me causes the roadblocks in the path toward my admittedly less than honorable goals. I'm just tired of getting the metaphorical shit kicked out of me and I don't want to open up again and risk it anymore.
I'm slowly doing the body re-sculpting. There is such a big difference in how I look from three months ago, but I still am not pleased with what I see. I am getting there. It just takes time, I'm told, although there has always been something in my brain telling me I haven't got much time left. I'm not sure why it tells me this, but it pushes me. Mental illness I guess.
Tired, sweaty and a little bit sore. And too introspective for my own good sometimes.
You wouldn't believe how weirdly good I feel this morning. It's all psychological, but for some reason, I feel very kitten-with-a-whip, on this early southern fried morning. Up early, and actually feel ready and rarin' to go. I did fuck up and couldn't do anything about my juror summons - I had all the things to get a ID, just didn't have ten bucks. Roommate now owes me rent AND utilities. She seems poor and destitute but, her ex-boyfriend said she shouldn't have any trouble paying the rent, implying she makes more than enough. I thought about that, and I think I would be very, very depressed if I had to work at Burger King at 38. But we all do what we do with what we got - she got married early (16) and probably has other issues that keep her from doing a lot more with her life. I think my life is where its at only temporarily, until I can get up to speed again. I count myself lucky in the education and the empowerment for which I was blessed.
Damn. Milo needs a hair cut. He's a regular dirty mop of hair. He's the only dog of the three that I think his hair sucks up and retains dirt until he gets inside. Looked at him good this morning, and he's grown a bunch of that hair back very thick. The last time he got a haircut, Shawn lived here. I've put a clean blanket down on the ground and the spot where he's been sleeping is covered with dirt that has quietly shaken from his thick, husky coat. Last night, Buddy got a bath and he's great - he smells wonderful and his hair feels clean and soft. I love my dogs, but sometimes I wish I had less of them - I can't imagine who I would live without, believe me, it would be like choosing which child you would need to have put down. I am committed to my little family, and you wouldn't believe the sacrifices I have made to keep them with me, but I can't lie and not say I know that having ONE dog or two LITTLE dogs wouldn't be easier on everybody.
I have rice in the fridge, six or seven bucks in change, soup and ibu coming Wednesday and a new pair of running shoes. People love me, the dogs adore me even though they don't listen to me, and I AM all that and a bag of chips. It's going to be a GREAT run. Up early enough, and for some fucked up reason, I have this good attitude going. Go figure. Catch you all later.
*** WOO HOO ***
I love this working out early in the morning. I get it all done, and I'm not sweating like some farm animal. I'm just sweating like some regular animal. I get the head full of endorphins, and its cool enough to actually do ALL my regular workout. If it's too hot, I'll quit early because I don't want to die. I have just enough to get two beers today, and I have ibuprofen coming. I REALLY hope the roommate ponies up some dough.
I've discovered I really am deeply geeky. I spent 30 minutes looking at the MIT Flea Market pictures - pictures of old computer, electronics, games, circuit boards, cables, etc. And, I am really attracted to the geeky guys hanging out at the Flea, too.
I'm in a hell of a mood, although I'm ready for a nap and a stink. Everything right now is at a standstill until an infusion of funds. I'm kind of hoping Kansas doesn't issue a warrant for my arrest for not appearing for jury duty. Kinda fucked all that up. Yeah, this is the drama that I create. Well. Right now, nap time, then call Kansas about this whole thing. I'll probably end up having to go back and do time or something. I'll think on that when I wake up.
No more drugs. I am OUT of ibuprofen. All gone. Bye bye. No more. My sore leg is staying sore today. They'll be no track today. Actually, they'll probably be a minimal amount of walking, also. Usually, it takes about four ibuprofen to get rid of all the pain all day, and if I go running it takes about five more to make the pain a very, very dull ache. And I'm broke. Oh, I am more than broke. I am in the hole. I'm in the hole until the roommate decides to give me some cash for rent, or until next week. So there will be no anything of any kind. Man, that'll suck. I do have this almost edible thing I made with rice and tomatoes that will last a couple more days. So if I can be able to get out to the track most of the week, plus a little eating now and then, I'm going to be fine.
One of my friends is going on Match.com. I love her to death, and applaud her for this monumental step - a step that is normal this day and age, but one I still have the chill that goes up my spine from the involuntary stigma that I find myself seeing in these kind of services. It's nothing rational and just a prejudice against dating in this fashion. It feels like to me that your just advertising, "Hey, I couldn't find anyone being drawn or attracted to me the regular way, so here I am opening myself up to EVERYBODY." This is not true of these services - personal ads, match.com, whatever. It's just another way of social networking, and truth be told, she is brave and ballsy and probably will end up with someone pretty special doing it this way.
But, as I love to mock everything that has to do with the human condition, I entered my own zip to see what sort of cavalcade of hillbillies I might find.
First of all, the names are hilarious. I had one actually was truthful in his label "hillbilly4U" as he was pretty toothless and holding a fish. I found four out of the dozens of mating candidates holding fish in there photos. But the most priceless things of all these, as if the photos of flexing naked torsos taken in front of bathroom mirrors weren't enough, are all the descriptions. Now, let me be clear, a good 30% (and I'm being generous) of these men are NOT giant, scary, loser-boys that make me cringe and want to buy mace - some just sound like nice guys who are in the same situation I am in, stuck with staring at a procession of dregs and mouth breathers that you want to just find a way to mass sterilize so they do not accidentally breed more gaping maw, slack jaw knuckle draggers. But the other 70% that now I know are out there, living near me, and owning a computer are a delight to read - I haven't had this much to laugh about in a long time.
As if all the spelling and grammatical errors weren't enough to keep me in stitches, most of these nobel laureates and Rhodes scholars have very high standards for their potential dates. Higher than they should be. If you look like Uncle Fester with a heavy meth problem, then saying you want "a very attractive, athletic woman with a great body," is ironic at best and fucking fantasy at the least.
Now Jschults of Spartanburg seems nice, but when you write a novel as long as Moby Dick for your description, it sort of smacks with that desperation which women are always so drawn to:
I'm not a very picky guy. I can deal with someone who is completely different from myself so long as they can accept me and my beliefs as well. But she can't be addicted to black tar heroin, she can't frequently engage in illegal activities, or chicks in gangs. Sorry, just not how I roll lol. However, I like an artsy-type girl. One who can see the beauty in all. I'm looking for someone who can think for herself and doesn't need celebrities, television, or magazines to tell her how to think, act, dress, look, and be. I'm looking for someone who doesn't resent her life based on bigger expectations of life derived from some colorful box we plug into our walls. I'm looking for someone who isn't shallow and who sees good people for the good people they truly are and not let race, religion, age, or gender interfere with what is truly inside of a person. I'm looking for someone who has hobbies of her own and can share those hobbies with me. I'm looking for someone that I can lounge around and cuddle with on days off and someone that wants to take refreshing walks downtown or anywhere that has a peaceful setting. I want to learn new things from my ideal match and she in turn can learn new things from me. Communication is crucial for me in a relationship. Most importantly, my ideal match should also be my best friend and someone that I can rely on for support in everything that happens in life.
Me? I consider myself to be a very loyal, commited, goal-oriented person. I keep a very close network of friends of all ages. We lookout for each other, we care about each other, and we take of each other. To be honest, I've made some terrible decisions in the past and I believe that I am a better, stronger person today. I understand that I made some poor choices, I accept it, I take full responsibility for them and I move on. Despite some setbacks and the results of past decisions, I still remain postive and continue to strive for my life goals. No matter what happens (aside from Armageddon) the sun will rise tomorrow and I will move forward.
I currently work two jobs because I have some "expensive hobbies" lol. I don't have a lot of time to myself and I certainly don't have any free time to meet new and exciting people. I pretty much go thru the same daily routine which basically consists of exercise and work. I do like to kick back on the weekends and just relax and recover from the work week. As much as I hate working two jobs it is absolutely worth it when September rolls around and football season kicks off.
One of my pure passions in life is sports. Baseball is easily my favorite sport but I do not neglect the others. I'm one of the biggest Miami Hurricane fans you will find. I live here but my heart is in Coral Gables, Florida and I am a season ticket holder for the Miami Hurricanes. On Saturdays, if the 'Canes are home, you can find me in section 210 of LandShark Stadium. I'm a lifetime fan of the Dolphins (don't laugh), Marlins (no laughing), and Heat (again don't laugh). I'll pretty much watch any sporting event from golf to tennis to lawnmower racing to the annual hot dog eating contest. Girls that like sports?? Do they exist?? *gasp*
Rusty68 from Gaffney's first line of his bio announced proudly: "my divorce was final april 1st!!!"
Dust_Pan from Lake Lure is holding a beer and living with his mama.
Supercharged88 apparently has a stuck shift key and has more pictures of his car than of him, although after seeing what he looks like, I'd stick up pictures of cars, too: WE WOULD DO THINGS WE BOTH LIKED! I WOULD LOVE, RESPECT & BE HONEST WITH HER! SHE WOULD LOVE, RESPECT,& BE HONEST WITH ME! WE WOULD BE TOGETHER ALL OF THE TIME! WE WOULD LIVE IN A GODLY MANNER AT HOME AN AT WORK! WE WOULD BE BEST FRIEND'S WITH EACH OTHER! I WOULD TELL HER MY DREAM'S & THOUGHT'S! SHE WOULD TELL ME HER DREAM'S & THOUGHT'S!
Natediggity says: "My perfect match...is thumping canteloupe and looking for a moron like me...she's beautiful and absolutely enamoured with me...So...if you've completely exhausted all your other options and think there's something about me that you like, made you smile, or roll your eyes...let me know...wink at me, send an email, or park in front of my house for a few hours...i'm a little slow but i'll put it together..."
JohannCox1973 I think loves god, and would like me to love him while loving god: "My day begins with the wonderful blessings of God. By His grace and will I go. i enjoy all that He has made, and that hopefully one day will include my special someone. I am looking for someone who is not shallow, but really knows how to enjoy each day and night. Any solid relationship has a solid friendship in it. A woman whose heart is soft and receptive to God is beautiful."
Markstevewalker71 has got to be my favorite. He wants a laundry list of misspelled qualities in his women: i need a mentilly sound, attractive, physacally fit, young lady. personality dose means ALMOST everything, :) also if you put your sexuality before your morals, then dont waist our time, because life is too short. you only live once and life is short but i wont settle for less than i deserve, and if i have to meet a million to find the one then lets talk. if you fit my profile please dont hesitate to give me a call my numbers are SEVN OH FOR, ATE FIV ATE, TOO SICKS NIN TOO. hopefully i will talk to you soon. But yet, you need to be a chauffeur: "my situation is based off of my intelligence. i was not smart enough to not get behind the wheel of a car after i shoved beer down my throat. so i can not drive"
Superdaddyd would love you to know " i'm DRAMAFREE that's right ladies DRAMAFREE !!! man with a grate heart'
t56sixspeed would like to assure you "all my hair didn't fall out at the same time"
Mikalp is "a 37 yr. old teenager" - OH YAY. Arrested emotional maturity is what I want in a guy, don't you?
stonedkillerany1 (and don't you just love that name?) is a master of prose, "I don't like to type or describe myself but i'm just lonely. they said i had to keep writing or else they would hunt me down and shot me. I just making stuff up now just to met thier little minimum characters. Now i'm done." And, mercy me, a giant intellect - his last thing read was "internet."
joyful77 says, "im to simple of a man to use 200 characters to describe myself. i love work. love traveling in the u. s.. trying to make the best out of life while i still can. relaxing and cuddling i am good at....jesus is in the heat and mind." From his picture, his head looks too big for his body.
When endagio says he's "I'm a 32 year old naturalist", he means it. I think squirrels live in his beard.
There are 17 pages of this sort of thing. Most are sincere guys that probably if I met at the Tavern, I'd have a nice conversation with. But I spent a good 30 minutes amusing myself, mocking the living shit out of most of them. I guess that's why I am not really successful at attracting the opposite sex.
duhINheehawhell68: "Hi. Im a gyant cunt, and smartass 2 boot...."
*** later ***
I feel so lazy. Didn't do SHIT. Didn't run, didn't workout. Did most of the dishes. I feel so blah. I hope I can at least get out there a little tomorrow. Jody is sending me ibu and soup. I protested but he's sending it to me anyway. Jody - another blessing in my life - one man who's never left me. That is saying a lot. I have no father. I can't really blame Ken for leaving me, that wasn't anything but fate. I should have saw that Shawn would leave, he had too much tugging on him and too many voices in his head to see what I was. So far, Jody has been a constant, a rock and a joy to me.
Been watching the X-files, sixth season - with the exception of a few episodes, what a piece of crap. The arc goes way fucked up. Lordy, I think I'll switch to watching "Friends" or "Newsradio".
I HOPE I GET SOME TRACK TIME IN. DESPERATELY WANT TO GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE TOMORROW.
I was running about a mile out of two when I'm at the track. Today I ran about two thirds of that two miles. I ran so much that afterwards, I just sat there and zoned out, staring at nothing with a head empty of thoughts. I barely realized I was listening to music. That was really cool. I was pretty much a vegetable. I walked home and saw something that epitomizes the whole ethos of where I live. I saw three doors leading to.... nowhere. Good frikken god. Yup. Forest Shitty in the summer time. Yee haaa.