I get the news I need on the weather report.



It is amazing how a few little changes in a situation will completely destroy your intended path. My friend out west just sent me an email saying another friend of his who I know from high school is moving out to Seattle. The only problem is me and this guy have never really gotten along. There aren’t many people in the world I don’t get along with but for some reason, he and I have never hit it off. I have no beef with him, but our last communication was years ago when he chewed me out for wasting his time with some Internet forward. Someone who is prone to over reaction is the last person I want to be around and worse yet, the guy might possibly be the most miserable person on earth. I listen to my share of sad bastard music and bitch and moan about the state of things, but I’m generally easy company in person and I like to think not wholly unpleasant to be around. So there goes my Seattle connection.


I also made up my mind this weekend that I would never be a good husband. Marriage requires a certain level of commitment and a desire to “stay the course” that I lack. I’m definitely not the cheating kind, so that isn’t my issue. I do know myself well enough to know if my wife hurt me, I would find it impossible to forgive her. I also don’t think it would be fair to be this fickle in the context of a marriage. I would drive a woman crazy and probably myself in the process. Perhaps I overanalyze life sometimes. I’m in a bad mood, so sorry if I brought you down.

Half of the time we’re gone and we don’t know where, we don’t know where.

The only living boy in St. Auggie.

If you grew up on Super Friends and/or feel Office Space describes your life, then take a minute and watch this. There's a "naughty" word or two, so be careful around the office.

http://www.ifilm.com/viralvideo?ifilmid=2665580

Interesting story about the REAL Forrest Gump.

It seems like, as a guy in the 21st century, there is only one haircut. That haircut almost always involves clippers. I go to the barber and ask them to clean my hair up around the ears and the first question is always "what number?" Next time I am going to say 37 just to see what they say. Anyway, I'm thinking about growing my hair out a little. Nothing that is going to get me fired, but just a little length. So set aside your lustful longing for John Mayer and give me your honest opinion. I don't like his music, but he is about the only celebrity still sporting more than a buzz cut.

First off, the pope is a good man and I have absolutely no ill will towards him. My last entry came off like I pissed off lapsed Catholic to some degree and yes, to some degree I am. Just trust me when I tell you that situation was a long time coming. I once heavily considered holy orders myself. Aside from that, my own Grandfather is a minister who has spent the better part of his life deep in end time prophecy. So I’m educated on the subject of what is expected to happen next.

One great resource on the subject is Malachy. He was an archbishop in the Catholic Church and one who wrote extensively on the succession of the Popes. Starting towards the end of the 12th century right up to present day Archbishop Malachy was able to accurately name the Popes by either their coat of arms or some other key feature. This wouldn’t be very impressive if it wasn’t for the fact he died years before the first of his papal list came to power.

Malachy foresaw two popes following the current one. Nostradamus has many translations on his prophecy regarding the last Pope, but one of the most frightening is this one.
“He that will have the responsibility to break down temples and sects altered through fantasy, will come to harm more the rocks than the living, through ornate language ears will continually be filled.”

So who, you might ask, would be able to break down the boundaries between God’s two chosen people? Even more frightening is the fact that he goes on to name exactly where this Pope would hail from.
Not from Spain
but from Ancient France
one will be elected for the trembling ship,
to the enemy will make a promise, who in his reign will cause a terrible plague.
As with anything, I am making a somewhat educated shot in the dark here, BUT if Jean-Marie Lustiger is the next Pope we are in a lot of trouble.

He certainly looks innocent enough


It makes a certain amount of sense that if someone was going to bring the church down and establish a one world religion, this man has the background. He looks incredibly innocent. He was born Jewish and his mom was killed in a concentration camp. I want to like this guy. I would guess people would immediately embrace him, including those who are not religious and those who are Jewish (see where the borders break down yet?).

He was born in France, of Polish heritage. He has ties to both sides of Europe. He was educated at the world renowned Sorbonne. His strong support for the State of Israel, which is at odds with the Vatican's officially neutral but in practice anti-Israeli position, has also won him some support from Jews. He just stepped down from his archbishop post Febryuary 11th.

I’m not saying he is a bad man. I do not know him. He does, however, fit perfectly the descriptions of the two prophets who are always open to intpretation (Malachy and Nostradamus). Yet the generally translated teachings of both show a strong consistancy in what they predict. So he seems to fit the bill.

I made a comment that I don’t think the Pope will last another week and people are jumping down my throat. Lots of conspiracy theorists say this is the last Pope. So why then are so many devout Catholics clinging for dear life to him to the point they would curse me out for suggesting the man will probably die soon? Who knows? I will say this much. I don’t hope he dies. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, except maybe the molesters and murders of the world.

The man is ill and old and probably should have handed over control a long time ago. I guess this is one of the many reasons I have taken issue with Catholicism. Believe me, I know guilt’s grip from my childhood. What I find ironic is devout Catholics who will say things like “there’s nothing wrong with gay marriage” and then believe that the Pope is God’s mouthpiece. If you truly believe he is the voice of God, then you need to reconcile within yourself why you can be so faithful to a church and a leader that you don’t agree with. It is like being a child social services worker with a NAMBLA membership. Usually I’m all about the contrasts that make life interesting, but if another person tries to tear me apart because I’m not crushed that an old man I don’t even know is dying, I will scream. Obviously, it is God’s will, or else he would make John Paul II live forever. So chill people.

I wish him the best, but the reality is he is human, old and quite sick.

I don't get celebrity crushes too often, but I can not think of a better reason to wach the Food Network.

The favorite statement of 12 year old Indian boys and white panel van driving petophiles is long overdue for a comeback. I love looking back at old 70's photos and seeing every guy in my family with a mustache. I think it harkens back to a simpler time. I hear Leo sports one in some of "The Aviator." That is Oscar caliber. So to those of you brave enough to sport the 'stach I salute you. For those detractors, grow a mustache rookie!

I don't think this was meant as a joke!

what's next? My posse's on Galilee?

Oh what a pity
Oh what a shame
Me and the skirts always turn out the same
A little bit angry
A little bit tame
Me and the skirts always turned out the same


I am alive! Yes, I am alive!

Which makes we wonder why everyone is so afraid of socialized medicine. I called the Doctor’s office and they said “get in by 5 and we’ll see you.” So I left work early and drove like a mad man to arrive about 4:46. The receptionist said “I’m sorry; we are not taking anymore walk-ins.” I, of course, was not taking no for an answer. Seriously I left work early AND nearly killed myself speeding to get there. So after about 2 hours of waiting in a very crowded waiting room, I finally got to see the physician’s assistant who basically gave me the standard antibiotic and decongestant combo that I could have come up with myself in the Physicians Desk Reference.
.

So as I am checking out with the front desk, I’m informed my visit will be $75. Mind you, I have what qualifies as ‘good” insurance. Then it was off to the pharmacy to drop another $25.I had to even bypass getting the second half of my prescriptions due to cash issues. Moral of the story, just get a new TV and some Robbitusin next time you feel sick. It would be cheaper. Apparently, my regular Dr. is no longer covered fully on my health insurance. Unfortunately, neither the doctor nor the insurance company understands way. The best part is they neglected to tell me about the change until I had to cough up the $75.

We become...silhouettes when our bodies finally go.

I am feeling less than yesterday. Behold the fluctuation of illness. The other night I was at the Art Bar and between running a bit of a fever, being on two decongestants and having a Smirnoff Ice, I was momentarily transformed to some altered consciousness. I felt like I was in that scene in “Garden State” where Largeman is on the couch and just completely out of it. Except, of course, the Postal Service song that made me check out was not in the movie.

So I sort of stood there and was within myself completely and totally out of myself. I’m sure to hardcore drug users decongestant and a glorified wine cooler seems like nothing, but it was enough at that moment to send me someplace else. So I’m riding the wave of illness. Yesterday I had myself convinced that my sickness was allergies. Today I know differently since I forgot to take the hardcore nasal spray on my way out the door this morning. I now realize feeling better yesterday had nothing to do with pollen and everything to do with medication.

Read this with a deep and raspy voice.

Everyone’s a voyeurist they’re watching me watch them watch me right now.

I don’t really honestly remember why I started this blog. It wasn’t exactly a common thing to have one back when I began. At least it wasn’t common on this coast. I’m sure in San Francisco, the blog trend came and went years ago. I guess I started it to get more practice writing and maybe, just maybe, I thought I might insert something brilliant and someone important would read it and whisk me off to a paying job writing.

Since it all began, I have realized a few important things. The least of which is that by writing this online journal I have been able to exorcise quite a few demons. I have plenty of internal struggles that will never make it onto this web page and a few that might never be shared with anyone anywhere. I use to think I was unique in that regard, but over time I have gotten the feeling we are all sharing a similar experience on this journey we call life. We deal with loneliness or regret or anger in our own ways.

I suppose if you don’t know me personally, then you probably don’t have a full idea of what I am really like. For starters, I’m more positive in the real world. Maybe positive isn’t the right word. Lets just say I might get on here on an off day and write some diatribe about the pointless futility of life. The reality of it is I don’t see it as being pointless and futile at all. In fact, we have all touched the lives on one another in ways we can not begin to comprehend. I think “It’s a Wonderful Life” covered that cosmic quandary just fine and I will not rehash it, but it is true.

What I will say is this. I write this blog very much for myself. In some ways it is therapy. In some ways it is an outlet. Some days it becomes a political soapbox and other days it becomes a diary. What it is not is a place to slam other people or passively aggressively communicate messages to people who might read it. I did that once and was politely asked by the person in question not to do it anymore on the blog. So I stopped. Simple enough right?

Well if you do read this and you are a friend, coworker, family member or just an acquaintance and you read something on my blog that you think is directed at you…chances are it is not. At best, this is a spot where I come to express the then and now. I always think about who could be reading it and sometimes I might describe someone that sounds like you. Maybe it is you. Just know that I would never put anything in a public forum like this with the intention of hurting someone else. This form of writing has taught me to embrace my emotions at a point and time, express them and then move on. It is the proverbial place to get things off my chest.

So now I have to decide what is next for this page. In the last week my step dad and my best friend have both expressed that they read this blog. I would never want to censure what I write. On the other hand, what is more important to me in my life than writing are the relationships I have. The people in my life mean far more to me than some online journal. So to avoid saying anything that might inadvertently hurt someone (no, I have no beef with anyone right now nor do I foresee any) I may walk away from this page soon. Honestly, I put my feelings in the storefront and expected all the pedestrians to walk by without taking notice.

Some days what I have on display borders on the mundane and PG level “Sesame Street” friendly. Other days, it may look like the darkest corner of Marilyn Manson’s house. I think the key to balance in life is acknowledging your feelings and emotions when they happen, experiencing them fully and then moving on. This has always been my place for such things. So if this website does continue, please know that I will always do my best to leave others out of it. If you continue reading, then do me a favor. Should you ever read something that upsets you, then call me on it. If you do chose to remain silent, then just rest assured that I am the type of person that goes out of my way not to hurt others. Sometimes, I do this to a fault, but I am the last person that would ever want to hurt anyone and by keeping this blog as honest and real as I try too, I’m probably running the risk of doing the very thing I set out never to do. It is a risk I will chose to take if I continue writing it and a risk you will chose to take if you continue reading it.

It is with a heavy heart that I retire this blog. I found Jesus!

I want meat.

No seriously I want some meat. I don’t need a steak or nothing fancy. Just maybe a little tuna salad or a chicken strip. Sorry cute little furry things. So for all you neo-vegans out there that thought 6 weeks would convert me...in the words of the magic 8 ball “outlook doubtful.” I have found two things with being vegetarian this time around. The first is you are almost always hungry. I eat enough soy to make the entire population of Japan live to 100 and I’m still hungry, so that isn’t it. Any suggestions? I usually have zero issues pushing away from the table but without meat, I’m hungrier than a refuge. The second issue I’m having is that I buy a lot more stuff on the go. Getting home at 9:30 on a good night isn’t conducive to cooking a lot. So my low prep options are Peanut Butter and Morningstar Farms stuff. That has gotten old already. So I have been having a lot of Chinese food. They have fast on the go veggie options, but I don’t want to put on a bunch of weight to live “healthier”.



Ala peanut butter sandwiches…


Turn into a Cheeseburger already.

Be patient, because this mash up will leave you stuck between 1997 and 1998.

Apparently PETA is getting a little more radical about animal testing.

Want to do your patriotic duty? Stop drinking soda.

I have had a love-hate relationship with the stuff and a couple of days ago I decided to get off it again. This process is always as dramatic for me as when I quit smoking. I feel horrible cravings and just want to curl up and sleep. Eventually I always go back. Sometimes I stay off it for months and sometimes hours. Every time I start drinking it again, I am haunted by the fact that I have to run around 20 minutes to burn off 1 can of soda. That is just ridiculous. As someone who doesn’t eat sweets, I’m sure my soda problem provides 90% of the sugar I consume. So it is time to cut the chord. I don’t need this junk. No one needs it. It rots our teeth and makes us fat. Not to mention the diet variety is probably filling the brains of it’s consumers with tumors. Have a water and a smile instead.

Beware the ides of February.


Dear sweet blog. Our relationship was so wonderful for so long. We spent all our free time together and just really loved getting to know each other. Now I only pay attention to you when I feel like it and I’m starting to wonder if there might be better ways to spend my time. You poor neglected thing.

Well today would make some sort of midwinter’s blues in I lived in a place that allowed such feelings. I got bit several times by mosquitoes yesterday sitting in the yard. Seriously, what is up with that? It has been in the 30s plenty the last few weeks, so any airborne blood sucking demons should have died. Florida is just an odd odd place. I’m telling you, we are probably second to Australia as far as having the highest number of things that wish to bite you and my guess is in Australia, they have more animals than people.

Here I sit in what any other part of the world would be considered a perfectly good time of year to pop on a copy of “Bridge Over Troubled Waters” and enjoy the mid-winter slump. Instead we just keep going here. I think to some degree the human condition calls for a little hibernation and introspection that can only be brought on by winter. It renews the soul to be reborn in spring.

And a rock feels no pain and island never cries…

So this is VD and what have you done?


Greetings from the land of the terminally single. Always an amusing perspective for those of us who hate Valentine’s Day. I don’t hate the notion of a day devoted to love, but I hate the idea of a day that makes those of us who are single feel like crap and even worse are those who have somebody and get disappointed by the lack of participation from the one they love. In a lot of ways what Christmas use to be to us as kids is what Valentines becomes as adults. Some people have a great time with it and it lives up to their expectations, but for most people it is a huge let down.

I guess being a weepy sentimental bastard makes a holiday like this evoke some sentimentality. So today I watched Singles for about the 80,000 time. I get made fun of so much for loving that movie, but it is good. It also captured a time that I sort of miss and it is like visiting an old friend. Honestly though, the movie does some seriously creative things, the least of which is allowing all the characters to narrate it without ever coming off as a strained tactic.


Of course revisiting the past always digs emotions up. Almost always they are bad. I hate that I cannot just look back and see the positive. I guess I do for the most part, but I also worry about all the mistakes I have made and all the things I have I done or said and can not take back. Even more so, I get a upset at how other people have treated me and think about those who have abused my good nature. I like to think I am a good soul and I wonder why I can not find happiness. I talk a good game, but the truth is I want the same things everyone else wants. We all want to be loved, understood and accepted for who we are and not what other people want us to be.

The more we move ahead the more we’re stuck in rewind. Well I don’t mind, I don’t mind. How the hell could I mind? ~Modest Mouse

Online dating sites are losing steam. I guess people are catching on that that nice girl you talked to on the phone doesn't exactly look like the one that shows up for coffee.

Online photo






Girl you actually meet.


A word of advice, if you meet a girl online approaching 30 and the picture on her ad is from the prom...RUN!

I saw this perfect match website on Dr. Phil and stepped up for my free profile. I think it is pretty accurate, although I'm not wasting money joining it.
Flexible, Compromiser, Temperate, Introvert

You are a very easy person to get along with, maybe a bit too easy. You are the person who keeps everything quiet, functioning, without high drama, and you keep your issues to yourself more often than not. You may need someone who will shake things up a bit because you may care very much when you think things aren't right in the relationship. However, you have a tendency to let things go on as they were anyhow. This isn't good for a relationship over the long run. Sometimes relationship issues and feelings have to be shared as they occur, rather than after you have mulled them over for a long time, which is more your style. You don't want a partner to take your less dramatic and more thoughtful approach to the relationship to be a sign that everything is fine, or that you don't have significant boundaries and feelings that need to be respected. You can be with many types of people, but you might want to look for an extrovert who will help like your affable side, but also draw you out a bit more so that you can be more emotionally open. Dominant types will probably come looking for you and if this kind of person attracts you, it could be a good match. Just make sure they are the kind of person who will reach out to you so that you don't feel emotionally unconnected and unappreciated.

"Oh what a pity, oh what a shame me and the skirts always turn out the same"

Probably misquoted, but this will be the next album I purchase.

This is really disturbing. You don’t even have to name people or places to get fired huh?

Who let the dogs out?

So I had another night of horrible sleep. This time I can blame the neighborhood dogs. They started barking like crazy in the middle of the night. It took me a second to realize why they were barking so much. If I had to venture a translation, in Doginese, they were saying something along the lines of “It is cold, let us in” or “come on man, I’m freezing.” As far as weather goes, they are allowed to complain, because they live outside. If I hear another person complain about it being cold, I’m gonna snap. It is February! It is suppose to be cold! Complaining about the cold in Florida is like complaining about the pope being too liberal. I’m sure the good people of Kenosha would be dancing naked in the street if their low was in the mid-30s.

The whole thing got me thinking about this odd symbiosis we have with pets. I did feel pretty guilty this morning. My roommates and I have a cat, or more accurately the cat has us. She started coming around and somewhere along the line one of us decided to feed her. Well we should have rolled out a “Cat Hostel” sign, because I swear she has cousins in Germany visiting. Our house has now become the hottest night spot for the Felix domesticus of northeast Florida. The great thing is they like to congregate outside my window and screw or fight. I can not call it because it all sounds and looks the same.

So this morning the cat (my unattached neutral name for her) really really wanted to come inside. She was lying on the door when I went out to feed her and she just kept giving me this “may I please come in and get warm” look. I was hoping not to start caring too much for this cat. I never gave her a name in the hopes she could just be a wild animal like the various birds that hang around our yard. I also made a point not to know the name my roommates gave her (for the record it is IKEA or something similar to that.) I guess on another blog I explore why people name animals after things like Tibetan gods of the dead. She looks more like a Lafawnda to me.


So here she is staring at me and tearing my heart out. I’m not a cat person. I don’t have any option on this issue, because if I invite her in, the net effect on my breathing would be about the equivalent of putting a big pot of Mop and Glow on the oven, boiling it and throwing a towel over my head and sucking in the fumes. I think of all the cats in my neighborhood she is probably the one that most needs a real actual home. She is so sweet and would make a great house pet. At one point we inquired about getting her fixed and the human society wanted $300. WTF? I guess they would much rather euthanize a cat than stop the unwanted generations of homeless cats to come. The fact that once spring rolls around she will in all likelihood become the hottest peace of cat action on the block breaks my heart. I guess my problem is I have become attached to this cat. In fact. I like all the cats that have taken refuge underneath my house. As much as I would like to think that calling animal control would give them the opportunity to find good homes, I know that living out in the cold and having our cat food handouts is a far better life than the one they would have at the pound up against younger and cutter kittens. Right now we exist under the radar of animal control. I’d like to keep it that way.

HELL YES

Beck is back and he isn't sad anymore. That or he is sad BUT with a beat.

WOW!

Speaking of Zach Braff, one of my friends showed me his blog. Check it out. It is one of the better ones out there and I’m not just saying that because the guy is famous. I suspect he is someone I would really get along with in the real world. He seems to be a genuinely funny guy. Not as funny as me, but funny. I suspect he’ll be successful someday.


For the record, not eating animals is expensive. I don’t know how all these vegetarians do it. I guess most hippies smell because they’re blowing all their money on Amy’s frozen foods. It doesn’t leave a lot of flow for things like soap and deodorant. Amy sure thinks a lot of her grub. As Kanye West says this will probably take away from my ends. Then I hope this takes away from my sins.
Who came up with lent anyway? I have a sneaking suspicion Jesus wants me to have a cheeseburger. If he can tell the president to seize Iraq, he can tell me to have a Royal with Cheese.

Rabble rabble rabble

I’m looking in on the good life I might be doomed never to find.

It is funny when you really evaluate the reasons you like something. I’ve noticed that I am a bit of a voyeurist. I think we all are. Look at you reading the blog of someone you probably never met. I think that is the reason I like My Space. It gives you a chance to peep into someone’s life and maybe make a single serving friend. I think it is fascinating to see what people really perceive as their best asset. Some post their writings or links to their web pages. Others post pictures of themselves in thongs. Rarely do you find a user that has both a link to their poetry and a thong shot. Funny isn’t it.


I suppose it all goes back to us all thinking we are unique and special and one of a kind. I found myself wanting to fire off an email to Zach Braff and ask him to read some of my writing or maybe for some advice on writing screen plays. Then it occurred to me that he probably gets upwards of 2,000 emails a day saying the same thing. I think he would also have a certain level of contempt for people just randomly emailing him, when he had to work to get “Garden State” made. I know someone who tried out for a short role in the film and honestly, when she explained who was making it I had some snide comment about the guy from “Scrubs” taking a shot at making a movie. Boy was I off with that one.


So maybe we aren’t all that unique and certainly we aren’t all that different. The best art always stems from something that you can look at and say “I could do that.” There is something about that immediate association with a work of art or a book that draws us in. Maybe that is where the golden rule of “write about what you know” comes from. Granted I still harbor some hope that a celebrity will stumble across my blog and think I’m cool and give me a shout out on Jimmy Kimmel’s show. The reality of reality TV is that we all like to think someone else’s life is more interesting than our own. We also secretly know that most of our lives are held hostage by mundane BS.

The years go fast but the days go so slow.


What is it about this human condition that can be so incredibly isolating sometimes? I don’t want to use the term “lonely” because it doesn’t fit. As my astrological profile says “the Pisces will often find themselves alone but never lonely.” That is pretty dead on. I’ve never been a big fan of human company just to have someone else around. I’d rather go to the library or a movie or for a walk by myself. Yet every once in a great while that feeling that you are completely on your own in the world creeps in. Now I’m not saying this is an exclusive felling for me or my astrological sign or people with brown hair and kids born in the mid-70s. I think it spreads across the whole spectrum.


The most fiercely independent person I ever knew was my grandmother. Even in her 80s she loved living by herself, but when people did visit, she would get a little spark in her that let you know your company was appreciated. That is until she was ready for you to leave, which could give you a window anywhere from 5 minutes to a full afternoon. I have always been told I am easy company by others, so that may explain why the loners of the world have always been easily befriended by me, be they family or otherwise. Yet there does come a time where we all have to admit we need more than just casual contact with people.

Everyone should have someone they confide in and share some of what makes them tick. I think that is what I am personally lacking right now. I have no issues with writing in my blog and if most people ask me a pointblank question, I give them an honest answer. Who do I open up to? Really no one. I wish I had that trusted confidant. The truth is family and friends who might fit that role perfectly will usually be too preoccupied with their own lives or worse yet there exist too much history and too much biography between us.*

I guess if you really explore the history of society in general you’ll see these themes of isolation pop up as me move away from communal rural living and into a world were individuals have to make it on their own in the city. See also “The Invisible Man” see also “Rebel without a Cause” Perhaps it is this very sense that we are all isolated and never capable of being understood by others that has made our society so fragmented and our children so messed up. Maybe it isn’t the moral fabric that has unraveled, by the communal sharing of the human experience. I know for myself, I just want someone to say they “get” me and then actually believe them. Many have tried, none have succeeded.

*yes, it was a B&S reference.

Ha!

Funny how we sometimes put things into our own heads. Yesterday I mentioned I wouldn’t give up meat for Lent. Then I started thinking about it and it seemed like a darn good idea. I mean Lent is all about self sacrifice and if I start really wanting a steak, I’ll rent “the Passion.” OK, I’m being silly, but seriously what is the point of giving something up that you will not really miss? The flip side is if my gamble on Christianity doesn’t pay off, at least not killing for food for a while will help my karma. The factory farm issues are pretty disgusting and honestly if most of us gave some serious thought to what really goes into our bodies, we’d probably all become vegetarians. It is pretty brutal and filthy and just plain inhumane. I don’t think even the biggest carnivore will argue that. The thing is we pick and choose when we want to be above the other animals and have dominion over them and when we want to say our behavior, good or bad, is just “nature.” I am as guilty as anyone else.

I’m now taking suggestions as to what I should give up for Lent. I’m not exactly a practicing Catholic these days, but it is a nice exercise to give something up for 40 days. If nothing else, it teaches you self denial. Any suggestions? I was thinking alcohol and promiscuous sex. For those of you who don’t know me, you probably think I’m serious. I can assure you I am anything but. I’m pretty straight laced. Caffeine comes to mind, but it is my only vice at this point. I know at least two people who will suggest giving up eating the cute little fury things, but sorry, I did that for over a year and it isn’t for me. MAYBE I could give up red meat, but that is about as far as I'm willing to go.

Sometimes, the works of others speak better for us than we can for ourselves.

I have a friend, he's mostly made of pain
He wakes up, drives to work and straight back home again
He once cut one of my nightmares out of paper
I thought it was beautiful, I put it on a record cover
And I tried to tell him he had a sense
Of color and composition so magnificent
And he said, "Thank you, please,
But your flattery,
It's truly not becoming me,
Your eyes are poor, you're blind you see,
No beauty could have come from me
I'm a waste
Of breath, of space, of time."

I knew a woman, she was dignified and true
Her love for her man was one of her many virtues
Until one day she found out that he had lied
And decided the rest of her life from that point on would be a lie
She was grateful for everything that had happened
And she was anxious for all that would come next
But then she wept, what did you expect
In that big old house with the car she kept
And such is life she often said
With one day leading to the next
You get a little closer to your death
Which was fine with her, she never got upset
And with all the days she may have left
She would never clean another mess
Or fold his shirts or look her best
She was free
To waste away alone

Last night, my brother he got drunk and drove
And this cop he pulled him off to the side of the road
And he said, "Officer, officer, you've got the wrong man,
No no, I'm a student of medicine, a son of a banker, you don't understand."
The cop said, "No one got hurt, you should be thankful,
And your carelessness, it is something awful
And no, I can't just let you go
And though your father's name is known
You decisions now are yours alone
You're nothing but a stepping stone
On a path
To debt, to loss, to shame."

The last few months I've been living with this couple
Yeah, you know the kind who buy everything in doubles
Yeah, they fit together like a puzzle
I love their love, and I am thankful
That someone actually receives the prize that was promised
By all those fairy tales that drugged us
And still to me, I'm sick, lonely
No laurel tree, just green envy
Will my number come up eventually
Like love's some kind of lottery
Where you scratch and see what's underneath
It's sorry, just one cherry
I'll play again, get lucky

So now I hang out down by the train's depot
No, I don't ride, I just sit and watch the people there
The remind me of windup cars in motion
The way they spin and turn and jockey for positions
And I want to scream out that it all is nonsense
And their life's one track and can't they see it's pointless
But just then my knees give under me
My head feels weak and suddenly
It's clear to see it's not them but me
Who's lost my self-identity
And I hide behind these books I read
While scribbling my poetry
Like art could save a wretch like me
Some ideal ideology
That no one could hope to achieve
And I'm never real, it's just a sketch of me
And everything I've made is trite and cheap
And a waste
Of paint, of tape, of time

So I park my car down by the cathedral
Where the floodlights point up at the steeples
Choir practice is filling up with people
I hear the sound escaping as an echo
Sloping off the ceiling at an angle
When the voices blend they sound like angels
I hope there's some room still in the middle
But when I lift my voice up now to reach them
The range is too high way up in heaven
So I hold my tongue, forget the song
Tie my shoes, start walking off
And try to just keep moving on
With my broken heart and my absent god
And I have no faith but it's all I want
To be loved, and believe
In my soul, in my soul

I’m a bad drunk. I don’t mean that in the I went around flashing my crotch and saying things I regret sort of way. If I’m comfortable around people, I barely use censorship when sober. Instead, I become really tired and really quiet whilst drunk. They say drinking brings out your true character. So I guess I’m really an introspective narcoleptic. So here is how it went down. I was at the local dive bar, well one of many, when I realized one of my friends was working the bar. So I figured A) I’m watching football B) I didn’t drive and C) I have the next day off. So I had a margarita. Well after that I was ready for another drink. So I went to the bar and asked my friend for a Long Island Ice Tea. He proceeded to pour me a large glass of straight liquor with literally a squirt of soda. The rest gets a bit fuzzy, but I do recall putting Super bowl stickers on everyone.

So I guess I cannot complain since I didn’t end up making out with some bar skank nor did I get into a fistfight with some dude who is 6’4”. I also remembered to drink two glasses of water and take aspirin before bed. So I’m pretty proud of myself, but still hung over enough to have learned my lesson. My night was plagued by bad dreams. My favorite being the one were my coworker handed me a bag of angry poisonous snakes. Now if that isn’t the subconscious talking, I don’t know what is. The funniest part was I got distracted and dropped the snakes, because I heard two cats fighting. I looked over at them and then woke up…to cats fighting outside my window. It was one of those occasions where you are between awake and dreaming.


Saturday night was good. I went to the Brighteyes show in Orlando. That kid has talent a plenty. My only complaint is one that I have felt a few times lately at concerts. The young folks are a little annoying at shows. OK, I will give them credit for not moshing and jumping off stage. Those two moronic acts were specifically for the ass end of generation X. REPRESENT! Instead, they seem to talk the entire time during a show and the worse part is they use their stupid camera phones to record the show. I guess it all boils down to this. Instead of enjoying the music, they’re more obsessed with proving they were there. I also didn’t know there were this many hipsters in Florida. I have no beef with hipsters in places like New York or Seattle. They usually have interesting lives and listen to good music.

My beef is with the suburban 20-year-old hipsters who see Death Cab for Cutie on “The O.C.” and immediately attach their identity to the fabricated scene. I saw one kid there wearing this jacket that I saw at Target that morning. I wanted to point out to his friends where he got it, but I’m not that cruel. Not to mention it is kind of amusing that the exact same soccer jacket Noel Gallagher wore a decade ago is now repackaged and sold to suburban wannabes at Target.

I have a psychic streak and I keep having dreams the Pope is going to die soon. It is sort of freaking me out.

Faint transmission from the one-armed scissor.

Howdy people. I’ve been quieter than Helen Keller the last few days and I’ll remain that way since this week borders on hellacious without ever crossing the border. So don’t worry, the well hasn’t run dry, but at best it will be a trickle for a while. I’m not only busy but also in a funk. I think I need to start drinking.

On the good side, my running has really gotten better. I’m starting to realize that once you adjust your body to the shock of running, your only battle is a mental one. I still run for 1 minute and feel like stopping, even though my body can go a lot longer. I’ve been easy myself, since I can run upwards of 10 minutes without getting out of breath. A feat I never though imaginable, much less doable. The question remains, if it still does not feel like fun in 6 weeks after the 5K, will I still do it for the fitness?