How much do YOU care about someone?

There have been times in my life where I didn't want to do it anymore.

Live, that is.

I've attempted suicide four or five times in my life, but never actually finished the job, as you can attest to, since you are reading this now.

At least once a month, my depression takes over. I lose interest in everything. Eating. Sleeping. Drinking. Sex. Work.

I've known 27 people that killed themselves. Think about that number for a minute. 27. Each one of them was alone when they did it.

I'm almost always alone. I could be in a crowd of people, and still feel like everyone keeps moving their chairs away from me. Because they do. I see it. Even without realizing it, or doing it on purpose, they move farther and farther away from me.

I go to the bar to sing karaoke, and sit next to some acquaintances of  mine. We're all good bar friends, and have a good time together. Singing, drinking, cavorting. Next thing I know, they have excluded me from conversation without even trying. Their backs are turned to me.

Anyway, back to my point. A couple of years ago, I was in a very dark place. I didn't want to keep going, but I knew I had to. So, I posted a status on Facebook. It simply said that I was having a very bad time with my life, and I needed some help.

You can probably imagine the response I got from that post. Dozens of people commented on it. Essentially, they all said, "If you need anything, I'm right here." The problem was "here" was not where I was. I got a couple texts from other friends saying the same thing, but that was it. Nobody actually spoke to me, or tried to help at all.

Except for one. My friend Angie. We were kind of dating at the time, and by dating, I mean that we tended to hang out in the same bar, and occasionally have sex together. We were never very serious. She was a sweet girl, and we had fun. 

15 minutes after I posted that status on Facebook, there was a knock at the door. It was Angie. She came inside, sat me down on the couch, handed me a beer, and proceeded to make me dinner. Steak, mashed potatoes and broccoli. My favorite. We talked about the Army, and my family, and what songs I was thinking about trying at karaoke next time we went. We shared some jokes. After we ate, we watched a couple movies together. I was surprised to find that I felt a thousand times better.

She never asked me what was wrong. She never tried to fix anything. She never explained why she came over.

She just.... showed up.

That's it.

And, it was more than enough.

That's all I really wanted. Someone to be there. I didn't want or need therapy. I didn't want someone to come hold me and let me cry on their shoulder. I didn't want to talk about what was wrong.

I just didn't want to be alone. That's all. Everyone else left me alone. Unless, of course, I was willing to make a trip to see them where ever the fuck they were, so it wouldn't inconvenience their schedule.

Angie did an amazing thing that night. She saved my life.

The next President of the United States

Ok, guys. Enough is enough. This is one soapbox on which I cannot help but stand.

 

You may not think that President Obama has done a stellar job, and that's fine. You have the right to your opinion. 

 

However; I have noticed that several of my friends are fans of, and will probably vote for, Mitt Romney and Paul Ryan in the upcoming general elections. Please tell me that you only like them because they're not Obama. Because, if you are one that actually AGREES with their politics, I will have to stop being friends with you. I will delete and block you on Facebook, block your phone number, and basically cut you out of my life entirely. Besides. After reading this, some of YOU might not want to be friends with me, anyway. Good riddance to bad rubbish.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not a Democrat or an Anti-Republican. I'm an Independent. I don't vote for someone based on their party affiliation. I vote for what I believe in. I actually considered voting for John McCain four years ago. I even thought that it was pure GENIUS to choose a woman as his running mate. Mostly because it put a question to the American people:

 

"Are you racist who or sexist?" 

 

Well, we got our answer, didn't we folks?

Once I saw interviews of Sarah Palin, I changed my mind. She is dumber than a wet bag of hammers. I don't know how she became Governor of Alaska, either. The fact that she was running that state is a blight on the intelligence of the Alaskan people. Check out the movie Game Change. It will give you insight into this woman's psyche.

Should have gotten Glenn Close. He might have won, then.

 

Back to the rant at hand.

 

These two men will turn back the clock in our country by 50 years. They don't want gays to marry. They don't want women to have a say in whether or not they can have children. They don't want people without money to be able to have more. They want to take away Social Security. They want to tax you. They want POWER.

 

Of course, this is all conjecture.

 

This is not: Mitt Romney has flat out LIED to the American people, been called on it, and basically said, "So?. He sold his home and moved away from Massachusetts, of which he was Governor. A year later, he voted in elections in that state. What? Don't you have to be a resident of the state in order to vote for ANYTHING in that state? In order to be a resident, you have to have lived in that state for the past 6 months.

 

The thing is, people have been watching too much mainstream media. Do you remember when Fox News used to be called "Liberal Media"? The GOP really didn't like them. Now, it's flipped. Any time you turn on that news channel, nearly all of their newscasters are spouting some kind of Anti-Obama rhetoric. And it's not like they come up with different things to tell us. They keep spouting the same stuff. 

 

Over.

And Over.

And Over.

And Over. 

I don't know how many times they can mention "Obamacare" is a negative way without sounding like a broken record. Guess what, folks? Before he was elected, nearly everyone was all but screaming for health care reform. You know what? That's what he did. Exactly what he told you he was going to do. Reform health care. Now, you just don't want it. How about you read the law before you start attacking it. 

Here is a site with the full text of the law. Read it.

Again, I'm ranting.

Sadly, I know what's going to happen. Mitt Romney will become President. I was an Intelligence Analyst for the Army for 13 years. This may sound egotistical, but I was paid to be the smartest man in the room. I was taught tactics, capabilities, situations. I was taught to think outside of the norm, and ask questions. They kept me doing it because I had a knack of seeing the most plausible way that our enemy would do things.

I have just over 300 friends on Facebook. 8 of them like Mitt Romney and Paul Ryan. I see people all over the place. I'd say that less than 10% of them like Mitt and Paul. When I talk to random people, very few of them agree with these two men. Yet, I look around the net, watch interviews, read news publications. From what I have seen, Romney is behind President Obama by a very small percentage of the vote.. 

What? 

How the hell did this happen?

My main point is: Don't vote for these two men just because they are someone other than President Obama. This whole "lesser of two evils" thing has got to stop. They are NOT the lesser of two evils. They will take away your money. They will take away your rights. And you will thank them for it because they're not a black man who did what he said he was going to do.

One Year

I haven't written anything in over a month. I feel like a failure at this whole "writing" thing.

A couple of days ago was the 1 year anniversary of my father's death. Many people have tried to help me through this time, but it hasn't really helped.

I had a friend come over today, and we watched a movie. He encouraged me to talk about my dad, and I cried.

I miss him more that I can put into words. He was the greatest man I have ever known. People knew him. He had influence. He treated people with respect, and expected respect in return. And he got it. Not because he was demanding, but because he knew that to earn someone's respect, you have to give it.

I spent every day in awe of the amount of love people showed him for no reason other than he was genuinely a good man. He helped those in need. He ran the Yakima Bowling association for 15 years. He ran the Washington State Bowling Association for 5 years. He planted huge amounts of crops in his garden every year, and when they were ripe, he gave them away. He would go to apple orchards just after picking season, and get the leftovers from the trees. Then, he would give them away.

Nearly everything good that I have ever done in my life was to make him proud. I started playing trombone at age 11, because he wanted me to be into music. I found a natural flair for the instrument.

I graduated High School with a 3.3 GPA, Honor Society, School Senate, President of the Chess Club, Drum Major of the band, best shooter on the rifle team.

Joined the Army.

Every time I made something good happen, I would call him and tell him about it. I wanted him to be so proud of me.

On his birthday several years ago, we had a party for him at Hoops in Yakima. My brother George told him that he wasn't going to make it, but he was going to be there. He asked us all to keep it a secret. A little after the party started, George showed up. We all hung out for a few, and dad asked him, "Don't you have a show to do tonight? You said that you couldn't come because you had an acoustic show that you were doing?"

"I do. Hang on."

At which, George got up on stage, grabbed his guitar and starting playing music for my dad. It was wonderful. George asked me to get up on stage with him, and we sang a couple of songs. Later on, Dad confided in us that, at that moment, he was the most proud. His two sons on stage singing such beautiful songs just for him on his birthday.

His last birthday was just over a year ago. He threw a little shindig at the Eagle's Club in Yakima. Most of our family showed up to this one. The only ones that weren't there were my brother Allen and his family. They, however, had already been there a week or so prior, and celebrated with him then.

We partied the night away, and everyone had a great time. George played some more songs. My nephew Tom played some as well. We got drunk, and had cake, and generally just had a great time. Dad ended up driving home, even though I told him not to. I thought he was a little too drunk. However, he's the one that taught me how to drive drunk, so I let him.

Don't get ahead of me. Dad didn't get in an accident or anything. He made it home safely.

A month later, I get a call from my Aunt, telling me the news. She didn't have any of my brothers' numbers, so it was up to me to call them and let them know. Fantastic. I just lost the most important person in my life, and I now have the responsibility of calling other family members and telling them.

We had a wake for him that weekend. Not one person I talked to said, "I wish I would have told him how I felt about him." Everyone was at his birthday party the month before. Everyone loved him, and told him so. He always returned that love, in spades.

My Dad and I talked to each other nearly every week. I called him at least twice a month when I was in Iraq. He sent me care packages, and encouraged everyone he knew to pray for my safe return.

I miss him. Every time something good happens in my life now, I have nobody to tell. Nobody to really be proud of me. All I have left is a few distant brothers, a lot of "bar friends", and nobody to tell me that I did well, truly mean it, and to understand what it means to me to hear that.

I love you, Dad.  I wish you were here.

Museless

So, it’s 8 Am. I’m sitting on the roof of my new apartment for the first time since I moved in. I’m lookin over the cityscape, and this is what I see:

Not bad, eh? I look at all these people below. Many are heading to or from work. Some are just wandering the streets in the morning, not completely sure of where they are going.

And the only thing I can think of is:

Man, I have to take a crap. Be right back…

Ok, better.

I’ve started to get to know the people that work in my building. Lupe works day shift. She sees me when I come home after work. Chris works swing shift. He sees me when I leave in the evening. I’ve met a couple of the other employees, but I don’t know their names.

Lately, I haven’t written anything. My life has become pretty dull. I go to Hula Hula for a drink before work. All the bartenders and managers there know me now. I go to work, play on Facebook and watch movies all night, then come home. Sometimes I go right to sleep, but most of the time, I stay up and either watch movies or play video games. I’m just trying to wear my brain out enough to get some damn sleep. 

The problem is that even if I do wear myself out enough, my brain never shuts off. I wonder too many things. Things like “Have I really done anything with my life?” or “Were there really 28 people that I’ve known that have killed themselves? Could I have done anything more to help?” or “Why am I still single?” They just seem to jump from one topic to another.

My point in writing this today is that a friend asked me when I was going to write again. Well, here ya go. Just a little something that is innocuous enough to be flippant, but deep enough that I don’t feel like a complete waste of time. 

In fact, there are so many different thoughts running through my head right now, that it is difficult to make complete sentences. I’ve had friends of mine that are writers tell me, “Don’t force it. Just start writing, and don’t stop until you have to. Oh, and don’t edit it. Just let it flow. It will all come out in the end.” That’s good advice for someone who has writer’s block. 

Here’s the thing, though. I don’t have writer’s block. I just don’t know what to write about anymore. Oh, there are plenty of stories left in this black hole I call a brain, I just can’t seem to remember them. 

My life has gotten so boring lately, that I even bore myself. 

So, I’m just going to ramble for a minute.

Why is a mouse when it spins? A friend and I were talking about something random, and she said to me, “Why is a raven like a writing desk?” Well, I certainly don’t know. “Because Poe wrote on both.”

That’s deep. It took me a minute to completely comprehend it.

I think that’s what’s bothering me lately. It takes so long for me to figure things out anymore. I used to be the guy that understood everything immediately. Now, I’m just a regular Joe. I truly have become “extra medium”. I used to be exceptional. I used to be able to calculate standard deviation in my head. I used to be able to remember things that haven’t happened yet. I used to be special. 

Now, I’m just…. Ordinary.

That would be okay, if it wasn’t for the fact that I remember the times when I helped honor students with their homework. I remember when I used to be able to sing a song note for note without any mistakes. I remember when I used to heal pain just by touching someone. I remember when I used to be known by people I had never met.  I remember when I used to…  <sigh> You get the point.

Now, I feel like I’m nothing. I don’t understand things as quickly as I used to. And my social life has gone to shit. I’ve met some new people in the past couple months. They’re fun and all, but they’re just bar friends. I don’t see them outside of the bar. I haven’t been to an SCA event in 2 years. I just don’t have the time off. 

I have First World Problems. I have White People Problems. What I don’t have is any idea how to pull myself out of this rut in which I seem to be stuck. I would get a girlfriend, but I wouldn’t be able to see her but once a week. Maybe twice. I’d get a hobby, but I know that I wouldn’t keep up with it.

So, I’ve tried my hand at writing. You’ve seen how well THAT is going. I haven’t written a story in two months. I have no inspiration. No Muse. 

Perhaps I’ll just go to sleep.

 

Nah. 

I’m gonna go play video games until I pass out.

Oh, and if anyone is interested… I’m thinking of having a house warming party on my roof deck. I’m not sure when it will happen, but it will have to be this month. Otherwise, it’s not a housewarming, is it?

Awesomeness

I was at work tonight, and decided to watch Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog. I love that shit. And, I know all the songs.

I'm sitting here, singing along, when I remembered something I had told a friend last Halloween: I want to be Dr. Horrible or Captain Hammer for next Halloween.

So, I bought this:

You can buy it here.

You're welcome, fellow readers.

I'm a boring person

So, apparently, I've either hit a wall with my writing, or my life just isn't that interesting anymore.

I mean, I'm moving on the 15th into a studio apartment in Downtown Seattle. Right across from the Space Needle. (I'll probably put up some pictures when I get all moved in.) I still have a great job, I am still single, sterile and disease free.

I went to the Mayhem festival last Tuesday, which was pretty cool. But, I have to say one thing. And, I know that a lot of my friends will probably slap me for saying this:

FUCK SLAYER. They suck.

That's right, I said it. Slayer sucks. At the show, they could have put on a CD, and it would have sounded better. Don't get me wrong, the crowd seemed into it, as there was a lot of moshing going on. But, I am pretty sure that all of those people were completely fucking wasted at the time. Plus, whoever was the sound tech for them should be hung upside down and set on fire. The band didn't seem into the show at all. I was very disappointed.

On the other hand, Anthrax was awesome, Motorhead kicked ass, and Slipknot thrashed.

I had never seen any of these bands live, and I got to see all of them in one night. I'll tell you one thing, though. Slipknot was amazing. I already knew about their schtick, but their show was like this:

Someone let a few of the patients from a mental hospital out for a weekday pass, they all got arrested, sent to jail with their orange jumpsuits, and started something like Blue Man Group with singing. There were THREE drum sets on stage. Two of them were up front, and seemed to be made from old beer kegs or something. The set on the right was on a lift, and raised up to 20 feet in the air. And spinned. While they were playing. When it came back down, the guy on that set grabbed a club from off stage, and started banging time on the side of one of the drums.

I loved it.

We decided to try and beat traffic, so we left a bit early. We only got about 500 yards from the venue, when traffic came to a dead stop. It took us almost an hour to go 2 miles. Once we got past Muckleshoot Casino, Traffic was a LOT better.


Got home, drank a bit more, and passed out. Even with the shitty Slayer performance, I had a great time.

Not much else is happening. I finally got the paperwork that certifies that I am now sterile. Which is wonderful. I have one kid, and that's enough. Also, I got tested for STDs, and I came up completely negative. It's not that I didn't expect that, It's just refreshing to have actual paperwork that says it.

Other than my life is boring. So, I'll give you this:

Too many

I went to a memorial service for a friend Monday night. He was only 30 years old.

Over 200 people showed up to the service. It kind of made me wonder: Who would show up to mine?

Just after the service, I got a call saying that another friend killed himself Monday morning. That makes 28 people I've known that have committed suicide. Every one of them did it when I wasn't anywhere near them, or able to help in any way. 

Many years ago, I had a prophetic dream. Those of you that know me pretty well know that I keep saying when I will die. I'll be 42 years old, living in a studio apartment in downtown Seattle. I'll have a heart attack, and die penniless and alone. I've always known this.

Well, it looks like I'm starting to make that prophecy come true.

Today, I put down a deposit for a studio downtown. I will be moving in next month. I'm glad to be finally out of West Seattle. There are too many people there that seem to make it their personal goal to mess with my sanity. Plus, I'll be glad to NOT have a 45 minute bus ride to get to work every day.

Guess what?

I got approved for an apartment downtown. I move in July 1st.

Finally, I get to live in the big city, like I always dreamed. It's not a big place, but it's gonna be all mine.

Here are the good parts to this whole thing:

It's $600/month
Fully Furnished (Bed, fridge, microwave, dresser)
All utilities paid (including electric)
It's on 4th and Denny

I am really looking forward to being on my own again, and not having to rely on someone else.

Plus, I'll be able to expand my social circle. I'm really tired of living in West Seattle, and knowing all the same people, and dealing with all the same drama.

I'd post some pictures to go with this post, but the apartment is small enough, that a photo is just about all there is of it. 6 feet from the door is the bed. Just the other side of the bed, is the outside wall.

Ok, it's not all THAT small, but it's close. I don't care, though. I don't need a lot of room, and I'll be glad to be by myself. It will be nice to be able to sleep when I get off of work.

Recent ramblings

I wrote the first two pages or so of a book while on the bus the other day. I had a small notepad, and managed to fill up a lot of it with something that came to mind. I figured that I should write it down before it left my head forever. I'll put it up a little later, when I have time to write.

Headed to work monday night, I saw three people with plates of food in Queen Anne. Not paper plates. China. Complete with silverware. None of them were together.

I found a studio apartment downtown that is furnished, all utilities paid, for $595 a month. I want. It's right across from the Space Needle. I'm skeptical about the price. There must be a catch. I'm applying for one of the units anyway. I really want to live downtown.

Crazy girl that wants me to be her boyfriend suddenly reversed her point of view, and told me that she "has no desire to ever date" me. This is the exact opposite of what she's been telling me for the past 6 months. She thinks I've been playing games with her. I don't do that. I have been telling her what the deal is the entire time. I haven't changed position on anything. The only factor is that she does exactly the opposite of what I ask her to do.

 Been watching Cheers for a few days on Netflix. I love that show. I just wish they had Night Court. That show was great.

Went to Crypticon last weekend. I met Dee Wallace and Richard Keil. Dee was a sweetheart. Got really drunk, just like I do every convention.

Not much else to talk about. My life is pretty boring.

I did my part, now I'm done

This past Friday, I did the dumbest, yet most responsible thing that I have ever done in my life:

I got a vasectomy.

That's right kids. No more ginger babies for me. I've decided that one was enough. Don't get me wrong. I love my daughter, and I'm glad that I had her. She is wonderful.

But, I think everyone will agree that I really shouldn't have more kids. There are too many irresponsible parents out there, and I know that I'm one of them. So, I took the permanent and more financially responsible route.

There may be people out there that think that I should not have done it, and I respect their opinion. Hell, even the doctor seemed like he was trying to talk me out of it.

So, I can't have sex until this Friday. That's not really a problem, though, since I'm not getting laid anyway. I still have to use condoms for the next month and a half, just to be sure. Then, I go back to the clinic with a sample, and they determine if I'm officially "firing blanks".

I'm not going to go into the procedure. If you want to know, look it up, or get a hold of me. I'll tell you all about it.

I'll even give you a referral, if you want.

I've seen this link several times, and finally watched it. For some reason, I think it's incredibly awesome.

Am I the only one who wants to side with this guy? I mean, Phoenix Jones is cool and all. I appreciate that he helps out as much as he can. He's great.

But there's just something about a guy with an eyepatch and a handlbar mustache. Even if it's fake.

Plus, this guy is obviously a geek. The production value of this video alone shows that.

Inheritance, bus adventures, and vasectomies

Not much happens in my life. It's pretty boring, so I don't write much. However, there have been a few things happen recently.

I just received my inheritance check. It's almost more money than I've ever had in my life. I've had several people ask me what I'm going to do with it. Firstly, I'm going to pay off my debts. I owe a few people money. I have also looked up my credit report. I also want to get a few fun things for myself, like a new bed, but for the most part, I'm going to save most of that money.

A couple of times in the past week, I've had a strange thing happen to me. I was on the bus, heading to work, minding my business, when some guy got on, and sat down right next to me. Normally, that wouldn't be a problem, except there were MANY other seats open. This guy really smelled bad, too. When we got downtown, people kept getting off, and nobody got on. However, this guy didn't move. He just kept sitting next to me, occasionally glancing at me. Perhaps he was trying to see what I would do. So, a couple of stops before the one I wanted, I stood up to get off the bus. He wouldn't move. He just kept looking at me. So, I shoved him out of the way, and got off the bus.

Yesterday morning, the same thing happened. Different guy, though. Plenty of seats, he sits right next to me. Other people got on the bus, and halfway home, another guy asked this dude a question about where something was. The guy next to me was extremely rude, and raised his voice. The second man, got off at the next stop. When I got downtown to catch my other bus, I said "excuse me" and stood up to get off the bus. He didn't move. He just stared at me like I wasn't speaking English. I repeated myself, but he still wouldn't move. So, I pushed HIM out of the way, and got off the bus. I don't know what the hell is going on lately, but people on the bus suck.

Also, I'm scheduling an appointment to get 'snipped'. That's right. I'm looking into a vasectomy. I've made a ginger, and my family will live on. That's good enough for me. Plus, I don't want to have any more kids. I know, that may make it so a woman that I get involved with won't want to be with me. So be it. That's what I want, and anyone who can't deal with that isn't worthy of being with me.

Oh, and something random.

I had a dream the other day. I usually don't dream. I had a puppy. It's name was Scotty. It was a little Sky Terrier. I don't know why I had that dream. But now, I want a puppy.

Who is trolling me?

My dentist called me yesterday to confirm an appointment that had been made for me.

Thing is, there was also someone else who had made an appointment for an hour after mine.

They called to confirm that my appointment was at 9 am, and someone whose name is James, but likes to go by Mike, would be right after me. However; they wanted to make sure that he was covered under my insurance.

Wait, what?

I work graveyard shift. I get off of work at 6 am. Having an appointment at 9 am is something I would NEVER do. That, and NOBODY else is covered under my insurance, not even my daughter.

So, I ask them to double check that it was me that made the appointment. The lady said that she wasn't the one that took it. I asked if they had any contact info for the person. She restated that she didn't take the appointment, so she didn't have any info.

Now, this girl, their receptionist, is a really nice person. She's pretty good at her job, and has a wonderful demeanor around the patients. I didn't realize until now that she's a little bit dumb. Just because you didn't take the appointment, it doesn't mean that there isn't any contact info for this person.

You obviously have MY contact info, and I didn't even make the appointment!!!

She figured out that it must be a different Raymond, and they accidentally made an appointment for me. So, they figured it out on their own.

Thing is, I really wanted to go there at 10 am, and see who this "My name is James, but I like to go by Mike" guy is.

I don't think you understand

Many years I have known you.

We've been through a lot together.

No matter what happens, we always seem to come back to the same place. Which, in reality, isn't such a bad thing.

However, I've expressed to you how I feel. We've talked about it at length. You seemed to understand.

I guess I was wrong.

Please don't misunderstand me. I know your life is pretty good, and I'm happy for you when you are happy. But, there comes a time where a person feels like it's time to give up the ghost. I'm almost there. There will always be that sliver of hope that you'll come around and realize that it's always been you.

I know it probably won't happen, though. I have a reputation as a man-whore, and you have terrible taste in men. Yet, we keep coming back. Neither of us seems to be able to to overcome our faults.

I suppose it's my fault, though. I never really pursued you. I just kept letting you come back, hoping that you'd stay. I should have said something. In fact, I did once. That didn't last long. You found someone else, and went off on your adventures again.

You've been through so much, and I've been there to be your shoulder to cry on, or the person who always supports you no matter what.

I think that I'm just trying to let you know, again, how I feel. I don't want to mess up the good things you have going in your life, so I won't actually say it.

Just know that I still do.

Inspirado

 I'm working on this song for karaoke. I hope I can get it right. That's 'baby makin' music'.

I haven't written shit in a week. I kind of feel like a failure at this whole 'writing' thing.

I know, there are those out there that could give me advice on how to write, but I just haven't had much to say. Plus, I keep forgetting the stories I want to write down.

I went to Norwescon. Had fun. Dressed in a kilt the first night, and had a woman put her hand up it to check if I was wearing underwear.  I wasn't. Wore my leopard print PJs the second night. Don't ask me why. People love them.

Visited with one of my oldest friends Wednesday night. Found out she's been dating a new guy. I'm happy for her, but a bit jealous at the same time. Don't ask why. It's too long to explain.

She told me her new guy has a Muslim father and a Mormon mother. Or is it the other way around? Oh well. And, she's a total submissive. I don't understand people who are "kink". Mostly because nobody has really explained it to me. The same with polyamory. I have kind of an idea, but I don't know all the fundamentals.

The past week, it's felt like everything has been going wrong. I try to write, and can't think of anything. I played poker, and didn't (and couldn't) win a hand in 2 1/2 hours. My phone got shut off. That happened because I have a friend on my plan, and she hasn't given me a dime for her portion in 4 months. NONONO, don't think that. She's just had a bad run as well. I'm helping in any way that I can.

Work is ok. I get paid to sit on my ass all night and play on Facebook.

I've cut back smoking by a lot. I have about 8-10 a day now. I use pipe tobacco, and roll them myself. Plus, the fact that I'm not smoking the whole thing helps, as well.

I joined my company's softball team. We practice every weekend for a couple of hours. I can't wait for our first game.

Other than that, I can't really think of anything insightful or interesting to write. Perhaps I'll come up with something later.

I have nothing interesting to say

No. Really. I don't.

I've made this determination.

When I speak, others talk over me. Yes, that's incredibly rude. Yes, it happens all the time. No, they don't know they're doing it.

It just seems that, for what it's worth, what I'm saying at the time has no bearing on the other person's life whatsoever. They just speak over me. And, being the guy that I am, I stop talking and listen.

Is it really that fucking hard? I mean, seriously. I can do it for you. Why can't you just shut your cock-slot for 5 fucking minutes so I can get this little story out of my head? You will never have to hear it again! I promise! But if you don't stop flapping those beef curtains you call lips, you will never hear what I have to say.

Granted, I know you really don't care. I've probably told this story a hundred times. But, you've never heard it. You weren't there. It's gets better by the end! Trust me!

Oh, well. I guess I'll just sit back and be the responsible and appropriate one, why you go on being the inconsiderate fool.

And yet, I am the one who looks foolish for just allowing you to do this. Well, no more. Next time, I'm going to keep telling my story.

And if you give me one dirty look for doing the exact same thing you are doing.... Well, I'm not going to be fazed. I'll just keep on going so you can see what it looks like to be talking to a bag of dicks.

Oh, you'll probably complain at some point. Most likely when it happens the 3rd time or so. You might even ask my why I'm being so rude. At this point, I get to lay into you, and use my brain ninja skills to fuck up your head.

"What do you mean? I wasn't interrupting you!"

"Yes, you were! I was talking, and you just kept saying something..."

Well, now it's apparent that the "Logic Train" doesn't stop in your world. So I'll either let it go, or explain it to you in small words, so as to be easier to understand.

Where are we going so fast? And why are we in this handbasket?

I'm going to rant for a bit. I apologize in advance.

I don't know about any of you, but I see our country slowly becoming a police state.

Our freedoms are slowly being taken away from us, and nobody seems to notice.

It is now legal for you to be strip searched if you are arrested for anything whatsoever. You don't even have to be charged with a crime. The don't even have to suspect you of any wrong doing. The just have to think that, perhaps, you were doing something wrong, can arrest you for it. Take you to the police station, strip search you and hold you for 24 hours.

There's a bill being proposed in the House of Representatives called CISPA. It's a "cyber-security" bill. Basically, it states that any website that has your personal information (facebook, etc.) can go through your personal correspondence, save it, give it to the government for any reason. They can even intercept it, and block it's destination. This is all in the name of "something might happen, so we'd better fix it now." They don't even mention what agency of the Government would handle this traffic. NSA? FBI? CIA? They all have different responsibilities.

Any phone that I have had in the past 13 years has been tapped. This is not paranoia, it's a fact. I had a Top Secret security clearance for the Army for a long time. They listen to make sure I'm not giving away any secrets that I've learned since I joined. Obviously, I'm not, because I don't know any of them. Well, maybe a couple. But, that's a reason to spy on me. I had access. A 14 year old girl in rural Arkansas is not a threat the the Federal Government. Her messages on Facebook really don't need to be forwarded to the NSA. I don't think they give two shits about her problems with her boyfriend.

There are actually people in this country who support Presidential candidates like Mitt Romney and Rick Santorum. Mitt is a con artist, and Rick is a bigot.

Both of these men will make abortion illegal. Now, whether or not you would actually have an abortion is up  to you. But, the option is there. Even in cases of rape or birth defects, they still wouldn't let a woman make their own decision.

 

Mitt Romney is a multi-millionaire who only wants more power and money. He has said things that are completely untrue, then went back and changed them because he got caught in the lie. His poll numbers didn't go down. In fact, they went up! He's been caught bold face lying, apologized, and more people support him? WTF?

Rick Santorum once said, IN PUBLIC mind you, "Homosexuality is a threat to the American Family."

How?

To quote Lewis Black:  "Well, maybe there is a group of 'Gay Banditos', who wander the countryside from village to dell. And slowly, they make their way to that cul-de-sac, where only one house stands. They don their black capes and hoods... and matching pumps (very tasteful), and sneak up to that house. And when they get there, they start FUCKING EACH OTHER IN THE ASS!! And another family is destroyed!"

Makes perfect sense. They just use religion to back up their opinion that is coming purely from a place of hate and fear. I lump Rick Santorum in with the Westboro Baptist Church.

That's right, I said it. Those people are loony. "God hates fags, so we're going to protest military funerals!"

What?

So, the military is gay, and you hate gay people. No? Oh, so, God hates fags and soldiers dying abroad is punishment for this. Yes? That makes no sense. Oh, so, just the soldiers who died are gay. No? I'm having trouble following your message. 

Now, I understand crazy. I'm fluent in it. Some guy talking to himself? I get it. Somebody thinks that I'm on of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse? Ok, I can see where you're coming from. The problem is, these people seem to try to make logical arguments out of non-nonsensical beliefs. Even Neo Nazis wouldn't get behind their rhetoric. Mostly because Nazis know they're full of hate, and go with it. 

At what point with we, as citizens learn to keep our opinions and beliefs away from other people? I mean, I'm agnositic, pagan, Pastafarian. Those aren't completely my beliefs, but partly. Now, I have friends of a lot of different faiths. Jews, Protestants, Catholics, Christians, Muslims, Buddhists, etc. They're all my friends. The don't judge me because I don't believe the same way they do. According to most religions, I'm going to hell. I guess I am. However, these people don't treat me differently because of that. I'm still here, and I have an effect on their lives, a positive one, at that.

I read this the other day... I'm Christian. Unless you're gay. Very well written, and I agree with it. Not the statement itself, but the message of the article. Just read it, you'll understand. What I found even better, was the response from a 15 year old boy to this article. It's on the same blog HERE. 

Here's my point on this point:

For over 100 years, we've been trying to live up to the Constitution. Civil Rights act of 1875. Civil Rights act of 1964. 14th Amendment. 15th Amendment. Disabilities Act. This is just to name a few. We've almost rid ourselves, as a nation, of racism and sexism. Hell, we even made it so we can't discriminate against sexual orientation when hiring people for a job. Now, they want to ban them being happy? Isn't that a GIANT step backward?

George Zimmerman wasn't immediately arrested. Even though he just killed someone. Don't even get me started. I could go off for days about the racial and sociopolitical implications of that case.

Soldiers in Afghanistan have murdered civilians and EACH OTHER.

After Whitney Houston died, the Governor of New Jersey ordered that all flags on New Jersey public buildings be put at half mast. For a singer. Not a public servant. Not a hero. Not a soldier. Not a former President. A singer that had so many drug problems that 4 different trips to Rehab didn't help. Now, I'm not saying that she was a bad person. I didn't know her. the 15 soldiers that died in a helicopter crash that day barely got any press. It wasn't news worthy because shit like that had been happening for the past 8 years. It's not news anymore. It's not sensational. However, some person who had a singing talent, and died of a drug overdose was more important than soldiers who laid down their lives? I don't think so.

Ok, my rant is at an end. I can't think anymore. I'm going to get a drink. After work.

Reunited

Well, my roommate is finally off the ship for good. I"m glad to have him back.

There's just one little thing, though.

He bitched to me about how the apartment looks. It's not bad at all. I don't have clothes everywhere, the dishes were either done, or in the sink.

Apparently, since he has been away from me and the rest of society for a couple of months, he feels the need to be an asshole. So, I asked him what exactly he thought was the problem with our apartment. What isn't clean?

He told me a few things, and I let it go. These are things that cannot be helped, unless you clean it every single day. I don't do that. Neither does he.

So, today, I woke up before he got home, crushed some beer cans, scrubbed the toilet, and washed the dishes. That was all. Before he left to go out tonight, he told me, "The place looks much better. Thanks, bro." I think he just likes to bitch at me for nothing.

Sometimes, I even feel like he thinks I'm his sidekick. That may not be true, but it does feel like that a lot.

When someone doesn't listen to what you say, and tries to tell you what to do at all times? Yeah, I think I've made my point.

Anyway, I'm almost off work. Just about time to go home and get a nap in. I'm heading to the Emerald City Comicon with my friend Leuq tomorrow. Should be a blast. I haven't seen him in a long time.

Old friends, new problems

So, it was a rather interesting day for me.

I slept a couple hours, and got a call from an old friend of mine. We stopped talking to each other for several reasons, but those aren't important right now. We've made up. He called to me ask if I wanted to go play a poker tournament with him. I agreed, and he came to pick me up.

We played in the tourney, and both failed. So, on the way back, we decided that we wanted to shoot craps instead of play poker. The closest place is Snoqualmie Casino, just off of I 90. We drove at about 105 mph on the way up there, and had some fun shooting craps. We didn't do very well, but that's ok. We had fun.

On the way home, traffic was terrible. We got to Mercer Island, and cars were at almost a stand-still. So, in his slightly inebriated wisdom, my friend takes the next exit, cuts about a 1/4 mile of the worst traffic from in front of us, and speeds past a cop before we get back to the on-ramp.

He is not amused.

"Dude, I hope he's not pulling me over.... Shit, he is. I'm going to jail."

"Man, it can't be that ba......"

He interrupts me..."Seriously, I'm going to jail, dude."

Turns out, he sped past another car at 45 mph, when the speed limit was 30. Also, he has a suspended license, no insurance, registration isn't in his name, the tabs are expired as of LAST June, and he is on deferred prosecution for his SECOND DUI.

It doesn't take the cop any longer than having a second officer come back him up to arrest my buddy, and put him in the car.

I'm calmly still sitting in the passenger seat, rolling a cigarette. I haven't done anything wrong. I have no warrants, I wasn't driving, and I'm not drunk.

The second officer walks up to my window, and asks how I am doing today. "Extra Medium", I tell him. He asks me to step out of the car and talk with him. A very small part of me thinks that I'm going to jail with my buddy, but I easily stifle his tiny stupid voice.

"Sir, you don't have any weapons on you, do you?"

I always carry a pocket knife with me, so I say yes. He asks if he can hang on to it while we talk. I tell him that's perfectly acceptable, and slowly hand him my knife. The second officer explains that my buddy is going to jail, and they can't release his car to me because I don't have a valid license. I tell him that it's not a problem. I have a bus pass, and there's a stop about a 1/4 mile up the road.

He seems taken aback by my candor, and how easily I'm taking this information. I mean, my friend is being arrested, I have to take a bus home from Mercer Island and I have to walk.

I think it's because a lot of things don't really faze me anymore.

So, the officer gives me back my knife, and I walk to the bus stop. I don't even stop to say goodbye to my friend, as he is engaged in conversation with the first officer. I walk the quarter mile to the bus stop, and wait about 20 minutes for a bus to get there.

I catch the bus without any problems, and on the way to downtown, I get a phone call. From my buddy. The cops let him use his phone to make a few calls, and organize someone coming to get his car. He called me to apologize for him getting arrested, and for me having to take the bus home.

"Dude," I explain, "I take the bus every day. Don't be sorry for me that you got arrested. Be sorry for you. We're cool. I'll see you when you get out."

Hmmmm

I've noticed lately that when I actually have someone to talk to, lately, I have a tendency to talk. And talk. And talk.

I just can't seem to shut up.

Seriously. I even talk to strangers, or homeless people who ask me for change, anybody on the bus that will listen for a couple of minutes, or my friends when I get a chance to see them. I seem to be rambling on and on about whatever comes into my head.

I'm not sure if it's just the fact that I don't have much human contact anymore, or if I'm just lonely, and starting to go crazy.

One of the problems I see with this, is that I don't remember what I tell them. I know that I'm usually telling stories, but I don't remember what stories I tell them. I wish I would, that way I could write them down on here.


Oh, well. Guess I'll have to just carry around a pen and paper, and start taking notes.

Tooth Fairy

So, Wednesday, I had my top right wisdom tooth removed.

I know, I know. Most of you reading this now just cringed a little bit. It really wasn't that bad. I ended up having 11 shots of Novocaine. It didn't hurt at all.

However, the aftermath hurts pretty bad. I don't have dry socket, thankfully, and the 2 stitches the dentist put in there have started to unravel. That's more annoying than anything.

The right side of my head hurts, though, as would be expected.

Here's the fun part. When I was numb, I was able to see him, but not what he was doing in my mouth. So, I have this vision of him on one side of my head with that little mirror in one hand, and what looks like a screwdriver in the other. He looks like he's trying to drive a screw into the side of my face. But, he's just separating my teeth, so he can get in there and clean them better.

I had to stifle the giggles.

And what's funnier is that he gave me candy before we even started. HAHAHAHAHA


But, now I'm in a bit of pain. After all, I do have a new hole in my head. My mouth is getting used to it, though. Here's hoping it doesn't get too bad tonight, as I have to work late.

Been a while

You know, I thought that when I started this blog, I would be writing nearly every day about things that happen, or my life in general, or possibly even have some great insights on life.

The problem is, my life is pretty boring now.

I used to be pretty exciting. I used to do things. I used to go places. I went to Iraq. I drove to Vegas in a convertible by myself. 17 hours straight through. I partied in St. Louis. I've been to DisneyLand.

Now, I ride the bus. I drink at home, but not very much. I sleep very little, but for no reason. I don't go on trips.

Christ on a crutch! I'm boring!

What happened? Some people would say that I've grown up. Well, I am 34 now, but I wouldn't consider myself grown up. I still have the same views about life that I did when I was a child. I like to play, but I'm bored with a lot of stuff.

However, next month, my work is joining a softball league. Guess what I'll be doing? You guessed it. Drinking at home.

Just kidding. I really want to play softball. We had a league when I was in Iraq. They made me play outfield, even though I don't have much of an arm. I played about 12 games, and had only 2 at bats where I didn't get on base. What's that average? .944 or so? Yeah. I'm good. I'm gonna see if they let me play first base. That's my position. That, or shortstop. It's more fun.

Not much else to tell, so, I'm gonna get back to work until I can think of something else to write.

Title of a Slaughter song...

Only not for me. I'm up all day, up all night, and occasionally get a nap in between.

I've officially been awake for 36 hours, and I'm exhausted. I just know, though, that when I get home from work today, I still won't be able to sleep for 3-4 hours. Not that I don't want to, it's just that my body has decided that when it gets comfortable, it wants to enjoy that comfort in a conscious state.

So, I'm going to go to the VA this coming week, and see what they can do about helping me sleep. I know they probably won't, but at least I'll have it on record. 

Oh, and while I'm there, I'm going to file for disability. If it works out like I want it to, I would get a disability check every month. Perfect. I'd still work, mind you. A man has to have a hobby.

You have to turn up your speakers to hear this one. Kind of quiet.

The helpful man

OK, so, I got off work at 6 am on Friday. Went to my brother's house to walk and feed the dog. Tried to get some sleep, but the dog wanted to play, and wouldn't leave me alone. I think I managed to get about an hour. Back to my place, and I'm awake all day.

Off to work at 8:45pm, get off work at 6 am. Bus fiasco. As in, during the half hour I was standing at the bus stop, 6 buses should have driven by. None did. NONE. When one finally did drive by, he actually drove by me, and then noticed there was someone at the stop.

Went to Elle's house to help her move. Thankfully, she let me crash in her rather comfy bed for an hour and a half before we started the moving. She also had EVERYTHING packed up already, except for the bed and refrigerator. This is one of those times where her CDO comes in handy. (Yes, I have to put it in alphabetical order, just to mess with her.) We got everything put into the truck in about an hour. Mostly because there was 7 of us. That made it pretty easy.

Off to the Ferry!

We go to Bremerton, and I am in awe of her new place. And it's cheap, too! A 2 bedroom, 1 bath, HOUSE in downtown, 10 minute walk from the ferry, for $900. I almost pay that much for my shitty little apartment in West Seattle!

Unloading took even less time, and we only had 6 people for the unload. Then we had pizza, bullshitted about politics, and got back on the ferry.

Went back to my brother's house to feed and walk the dog. Back to my house, but with another bus disaster. I thought I'd be slick and try to work the bus system like my own personal driver, but didn't remember that it's Saturday, and apparently, some buses just don't run at times that I want them to. So, instead of walking a quarter mile to catch a bus that went a block from my place, I ended up taking one two miles out of the way, and then starting to walk home, and then waiting a half hour for a bus because they were running late. There were 5 people on the bus.

How the hell can you be running late, when you don't have a shitload of people, and there's barely any traffic?

So, I left my brother's place at 4:15, and got home at 6. All because I didn't want to walk a quarter mile to wait for 20 minutes for one bus, and ended up walking 2 miles anyway, and waited 30 minutes for a different bus. Bad decision on my part.

Got home, took a nap, and went to work. Yet another bus debacle. Another bus didn't show up, so I had to walk to a different stop, and the buses there were all late, as well. So, I didn't get to work early as usual. I managed to make it there on time, though.

The Cake is a Lie

For some reason, I can't sleep.

I get home, go to bed, put on a movie, and lay there as the 3 ring circus of my mind kicks into high gear.

The way it used to be, I would get drunk nearly every night, and pass out. That kept my head from kicking into overdrive. Now that I work nights, I don't go out very often at all. So, I don't drink, except twice a month. Every other payday.

I'm exhausted. I sleep about 3 hours on days I'm not so lucky, and about 5 hours on days that I am.

I've tried so many things to help. Melatonin, trazadone, NyQuil, blacking out my bedroom, turning off everything and just laying there until I fall asleep, watching movies, reading. Anything that I can think of that would get me to sleep in the past isn't working.

Now, it only seems like my body wants to sleep when I have something to do, like work. Thankfully,  I've gotten used to functioning on little sleep over the past several years. I just know, though, that when I DO get a good night's sleep, I will probably crash for about a day and a half.

Plus, this weekend, I'm dog/house sitting for my brother. So, I get there about 7 am, walk the dog, feed it, and it wants to play. I try to go to sleep, but she keeps bothering me. Oh, well. I'll get to sleep eventually.

I couldn't think of anything fun that happened today.

I love bacon. I can't get enough of it.

So much so, that I've actually cooked 5 pounds of bacon for a meal.

I've gone into a restaurant, and ordered a plate of bacon.

If I could could get away with it and live, I would eat nothing but bacon. All the time.

I have bacon salt, bacon bandages and bacon lip balm. 

If you ever want to get me a present, bacon is a great idea. 

Ok, not really. But it is the main reason that I am not a vegan.

I cannot express how much bacon means to me.

Icicles on my.....

I'm not one of those people who forgets what the weather is like every year. But I am one to bitch about it.

HOLY SHIT ON A RITZ. It's fucking cold out.

Waiting for the bus, as usual, at the corner of Fauntleroy and Alaska. The wind is blowing slightly, and it's pushing the cold straight through my leather jacket, thick hooded sweatshirt, thick cotton t shirt and undershirt.That's a lot of layers to get through.

I swear, the cold is a living entity that loves to torture me.

Ok, I'm not so egotistical to think the cold is after only me. However, I'm not writing about YOU, right?

Although, that's not a bad idea. I should write about you. But I don't think anyone wants to read about your explosive flatulence. But I am sure they want to read about the erection you had this morning. It was glorious.

Oh, wait, that's me again.

Point is, I'm fucking cold. I will be very happy when summer is here.

Here's a fun song to start out my work shift.

Have a fun and safe Friday night! I don't want to read about any of you found in a ditch somewhere. So, when that slightly creepy guy asks if he can buy you a drink, just tell him you want to fuck him in the bathroom. That way, you don't have to piece together what happened the night before, and you don't have that roofie hangover. 

Shit Factory

Today's hangover is brought to you by a lot of whiskey.

For two days.

Valentine's day. I was supposed to meet a friend in Northgate to see a movie, but I overslept. Even though, I only slept 4 hours. Woke up at 7:30pm. Was supposed to be up there at 6:45. I'm such an asshole. So, I went to the Triangle Pub, then to Talarico's. I was pretty drunk. Sang a song at Tallies, met up with a friend, and went home. I didn't get to sleep until around 4:30 am. Woke up at 8, and didn't get back to sleep.

The hangover had teeth. I did my best to keep it at bay, but it set up shop, and wasn't leaving until it was good and ready.

Went to Kent last night with another friend, watched her learn a couple line dances. Then went to A Terrible Beauty in Renton. Sang karaoke there, and had a blast. More whiskey. Came back to West Seattle, and got to sleep about 2:45. Woke up at 8am again.

The hangover had grown claws, a tail, and had decided that my temporal lobe was a beautiful place to put a marching band.

I've gotten 5 hours or less sleep every night for the past 2 weeks. I don't know why. Probably because I get home, and even though I'm tired, I stay up. I'll fix that soon, though.

So, that's the daily shit show for today. Here's one of the songs I sang at ATB Wednesday night.

How is it that I'm the bad guy?

I don't lie.

I don't cheat.

I don't hit people.

I help friends move.

I bum homeless people cigarettes, even if I'm low.

When I had a car, I would give people rides.

I don't steal.


But, somehow, I always seem to be the bad guy because I didn't do something that someone wanted me to. Or, I don't feel a certain way about someone. Or, I didn't say something that you wanted me to.

Well, guess what... You'd better load up on the Xanax, because life is gonna be really hard. Do you need someone to blame? Fine. Go ahead and blame me. It won't make the problem go away, but at least your conscience is clear.

Here's the skinny:

I am a single man. Yes, I occasionally get laid. However, one has told me that she's fallen in love with me. I don't feel the same way. I enjoy her company, we have fun together, but I'm not in love with her. That's just the way it is. The problem is, I keep on getting guilt tripped because I don't feel the same way as her. Not only from her, but from mutual friends, acquaintances, etc. She keeps asking me, "Why can't you just be with me?" "I'm tired of being the other woman!" (Even though I spend most of my time with her.) "

Because I don't want to be. Simple as that.

Now, here's the REALLY fun part:

People "warned" her about me when we started seeing each other. They told her not to fall in love with me because I would "stomp on her heart". Like I'm some kind of douche bag who gets women to fall in love with me, and then hurt them just to watch them cry.

Bottom line: I'm a terrible person because I don't want a relationship with you. You, and our mutual friends, try to make me feel guilty for this. As if I've done something deliberate to hurt you. I haven't. I've told you the truth the entire time. You have 3 other people who are in love with you, but you don't want them. Sound familiar?

Want to know what I think? I think you're just upset with me because you can't get what you want. Very well. I'll be the bad guy. So be it.

Graveyard Shift

Am I the only one who wants to do strange things at work when nobody else is there?

Two days out of the week, I am the only person in the building. Granted, I do have internet and music, and stuff that I have to do, but it gets a little boring.

So, my mind wanders sometimes.

I think about what it would be like to have someone show up and have sex with me. Nobody would know, except me and them.

Or, maybe bring my golf clubs, and set up my own personal miniature golf course around the whole office. That would be fantastic, as well.

But, alas. I didn't bring my clubs, nobody else is awake, and I'm bored.

Although, the CEO of the company did show up for a little while earlier. We had a chance to chat for a little bit. She's a really nice lady. Unless she's pissed off. Then, she's spawn of the devil, and you have done wrong. She only gets pissed if you ACTUALLY did something wrong, though.

I love my job...

Nicknames

Up until a few years ago, I didn't have a nickname. People just called me by a shortened version of my first name: Raymond.

Then, they started calling me Ray Ray. Because they have no imagination.

Now, since I sing karaoke, and have a wide range of songs, I've gotten a new nickname.

White Chocolate.

It happened when I was singing at the Corner Inn in West Seattle years ago. I had just finished singing "Let's Get It On" by Marvin Gaye, and happened to walk past a couple black friends of mine having a conversation. I overheard Shawna tell another friend, "Oh, that's Ray Ray. He's not white." Apparently, they decided that I'm an albino black man with red hair. After that, they started calling me White Chocolate.

Now, I have a different nickname. Well, it's not for me. It's a nickname for a PART of me, if you catch my meaning.

Velvet Hammer.

You read that right. Velvet Hammer. It's cuddly soft, even when it's hard. These are not my words. It's just how it was described to me.

You probably didn't need to know that.

Imaginary friends

I have no social life anymore.

Since I started working graveyard shift, I don't really see anyone that I know anymore. I get on the bus to go to work around 9 PM, and work until 6 AM. I get on the bus, and go home. I don't talk to anyone on the bus, and nobody even really looks my way. I'm pretty incognito. Just some guy who looks like an Amish leprechaun wearing a sweatshirt and a leather jacket listening to his headphones.

I go home, watch some movies, play on Facebook for a while, until I pass out.

I wake up in the afternoon, having accomplished absolutely nothing, and get ready for work. I don't go out. Nobody visits. It's really kind of sad how lonely my life has become. Not only that, but I have Tuesdays and Wednesdays off. Hardly conducive to being able to party with my friends.

This time away from everyone has given me an opportunity to see who my friends truly are. Most people I know are "Bar Friends". You know what I mean. People you see at your local watering hole, you're friends on Facebook, but never really hang out outside of that particular bar.

Most of the people I know are like this. And since I don't really go out anymore, it's almost like I know people that don't really exist outside of my head.

There have been some people, however, that I have had the opportunity to spend time with away from the bar scene, and I really appreciate them.

I have made plans to hang out with a couple other friends, as well, but since I don't really get to sleep until around 10 AM, it's pretty difficult to get up in time to meet them for drinks after work. I'm trying really had to remedy that.

I think what I'm saying is this: I need a life. Or a hobby. Any suggestions?

What a day, what a day.

I found out that there is such a beast as "too much bacon".

If it was anyone else spewing forth those words, I would have them flogged for such blasphemous words. However, when you eat an entire package of bacon to yourself, it does seem to weigh down your stomach. Add to that, a couple cups of coffee, and a hangover to boot.

All in all, a fun night and morning. Got fairly tossed with a friend last night, and bacon this morning. Good times. Now, to take a slight nap before I have to head to work tonight.

Oh, and there's another story up on my other blog. Check it out HERE. Another thrilling tale of a drunken ginger.

New Story

I've got a new story up. It's about cats. You should read it. You might just vomit.

Or hate me.

Or, you just might think, "Hey, cat's aren't that bad..."

The 86 Rules of Boozing

People are stupid when they drink, for the most part. I've seen the most upstanding person get 3 shots into them, and completely revert to toddler thinking. GIMME THAT, IT'S MINE!! 

Every drinker is different, but here are the ones that I ALWAYS see:

The Hugger - This guy has too many shots, and suddenly loves everyone. He can't help but hold on to everyone to show them he loves them. (And he needs them to help hold him up.)    Look, dude. We get it. You love all of us. Now get the fuck off of me, you smell like failure.

Then there's the complete opposite:

The Fighter - This guy seems to think that just because someone glances his way, they want to fight him. He usually starts talking about the fights in which he has been around drink 3. Drink 6, he's talking shit about some "douche bag" at the end of the bar. Drink 12, he's in the guy's face. I swear, these guys go out to drink just to get into a fight to have more stories to tell.       Calm down, asshole, he's looking at you because you're being extremely loud. He doesn't want your girlfriend. 

Bartenders love this next one, because they drink a lot of booze, and guys buy them a LOT of shots:


The Bachelorette Party - You see these girls nearly every weekend. Usually in a group of 6-8, with the Bride-to-be wearing a veil. I fucking hate this group. Not because they're happy, or because they're drunk. I hate them because they make outlandish demands on anyone passing by. "Hey, show us your dick!", "If you pay a dollar, you can bite a sucker off my shirt...", "Buy me a shot! I'm getting married!". If you are like me, and refuse to acquiesce to their demands, you get shunned by the entire group, and mocked by most of the people around them. "Come on, show us your dick! We want to take a picture of it! What do you mean no?!?!?! You're lame."               Fuck you, bitch. Unless you're going to suck me off in the bar, I'm not going to show you my dick, let alone let you take a picture of it.

The Former Bartender/Bouncer - This is the guy who bitches that his drink isn't strong enough, constantly. Or, he feels the need to tell the bartender how HE would make a particular drink. Or, he complains that he shouldn't have to show his ID to the bouncer because he "used to have that job, and worked at the bar next door for 3 months."             Here's an idea: Show your ID, get your drink, tip appropriately, and shut the fuck up. Unless the bartender traded their brains for tits and made you a Margarita with blackberry brandy, you have no need to explain to them how to do their job. They're doing it, not you. If you were so good, you'd still be doing it. Also, never tell the bouncer how to do their job. Or try to help them in a fight. Stand back and watch the ass-whooping before you find yourself on the receiving end of it.

The Last Call Hurricane - You've all seen these people. They show up 10 minutes before closing, right after the bartender calls "Last Call!". They just came from 2 other bars, have been drinking since they got off of work, and are completely hammered. And yet, they think that just because the doors are still open, that they deserve to get one last drink. "What do you mean, I can't get a drink? You're still open!"       Get out, needy. People are trying to pay their tabs so they can go home. If you want to drink more, get a 12 pack on your way home.

The 21 Run - Always in a group of 4, 8, or 12. Never any other number. The Birthday boy/girl is TRASHED, but their friends still find it funny to feed them shots. They show up, get a round or two, then leave. This isn't a problem until it's the last bar of the night. That's usually when the 21 year old passes out on a table, or vomits on the dance floor. Guess who gets to clean that up?         Now, I understand getting your newly legal friend drunk on their birthday. Here's the thing, if you're going to make them a pile of hot mess, you have to take care of them, rather than asking the bartender to get them a cab home. They don't know where they are, let alone where they live, and cab drivers aren't babysitters.


The Princess (a.k.a The Mercer Island Cunt) - Usually about 23-24 years old. Either has money, or her parents do. She orders a straight up, 50/50, slightly dirty Martini with a lemon twist. Or and Adios Mother Fucker. Or a Screaming Viking. At closing. Then throws a tantrum because she can't get what she wants when she wants it. "I don't want it now. Give me my money back."  "What took you so long? I've been waiting FOREVER!" (It's only been 5 minutes). Then, doesn't tip. She looks with disdain at every man who approaches her. If you buy her a drink, she won't thank you, and will just walk away. She's the kind of girl that will ask what kind of car you drive before you can even engage in conversation with her.          I hope you die in a fire. You shouldn't be allowed out in public until you understand that those people serving you could easily slip you a roofie, and let you take your chances with the big hairy biker gang in the corner. Or spit in your food. 

And my personal favorite:

The One Trying to Buy Your Friendship with Drinks - I love this guy. He's usually sitting by himself, and manages to strike up a conversation with ANYONE that happens by. He's the guy that just got a promotion, so decides to buy a round of drinks for a group of strangers. The later in the evening it gets, the more apt he is to just start buying shots and bringing them to the table. If it's a guy, he tries to get a girl in the group to go home with him. If it's a woman, she tries to get the hot girl's boyfriend to go home with her.           These people are free entertainment for me. Plus, they make my bar tab at the end of the night much nicer.

There are many more. Happy, horny, sleepy, etc. These ones are just a sample of what I see every time I go out.

In case there are some of you who do not know, there are many unwritten rules of drinking in public. Modern Drunkard magazine has combined them all, and managed to put them onto a poster. Here you go: 86 Rules of Boozing

Found out the other day that a good friend of mine is becoming trans. Here's the fun part:

It's an ex-girlfriend of mine.

She has been very confused about herself most of her life, and I fully support her decision. Plus, she's already met someone that she likes very much. She started HER life as a man. Kinda fortuitous, don't you think?

There was always part of me that sort of hoped she/he and I might get back together. I knew in my heart, though, that wouldn't happen. We are completely different people from when we dated, especially now. 

My love and support to you, Leuq. You'll always be my Honey Bear.

Wow. I have a blog now. One thing I told myself I wouldn't do.


But, like nearly everyone I've known, I need someone to talk to. Most of the time, that should be my friends, but most of them wait for their turn to speak, rather than listen. So, I'll just write my thoughts here, and hopefully, I'll be able to work my way through them into some sense of reality.