A story about my father

So, it's been 9 years since my father died. 

I figured that I'd lighten the mood by telling a story about him.

Warning: graphic content about cancer, a penis, sex, and death.

When I was young, dad got prostate cancer. It was operable, and he came through it with flying colors, except for the fact that he couldn't hold his bladder. For a short time, until he healed, he had a clamp. You can guess where that went. 

Later on, he got a pump for his prostate, so he could get an erection. Just because he was divorced and 42 years older than me, it didn't mean he wasn't gonna get laid.

Flash forward to 2011.

He dies of a heart attack in his sleep. 

His 4 sons go to the funeral home for the viewing, and we all break down crying. We pull ourselves together enough to talk to the funeral director about the disposition of his remains. She explains to us about the cremation, and what's going to happen.

"Any medical devices will be removed from the ashes, and you will receive the ashes in a bag, in a box."

We all get quiet, and stifle laughter. She doesn't know what's going on, and why we're all trying not to laugh. 

Finally, George asks, "What's gonna happen to the pump?"

We all fall out laughing for a solid 10 minutes. The funeral director doesn't understand. 

When we can finally compose ourselves, we explain about the cancer, and the pump, and our father's noteriety for being a bit of a hound. She explains that it was probably silicone or plastic, so it would melt, and become part of the ashes. 

It's been many years, and his ashes haven't been spread, but remain in that bad, in that box. So, naturally, they're a brick now.

At the time, we just went with it, but recently, I realized something...

My father got a pump so he could get hard.

It melted, and became part of his ashes.

Now, his ashes are brick.

That horn dog gets to be hard forever. 

What

I wake up every morning, not remembering where I am. I see the room around me, and nothing is familiar to me. After a few moments, it all comes back to me. I'm home. Safe and sound.

But, that's not where I wanted to be.

I look in the mirror, and I don't recognize the face looking back at me. He's a handsome fellow, with sad eyes. "Nice beard. Crooked head, but the baldness works." I think to myself. After a few moments, I remember. That's me.

But, that's not who I wanted to be.

I go to my job. I punch the clock. I try to be important. And I am. But that importance is negated by those that think they know better. They tell me that I'm lucky to have a job.

But, that's not what I wanted to do.

This is not where I wanted to live.

This is not HOW I wanted to live.

You see me as a guy that has a lot of friends, is wildly popular and, perhaps, has women fawning over him at all times. Perhaps you see me as a social butterfly. That is partially true. I do talk to a lot of people. There's nothing meaningful about these interactions. They're just playful banter.

The truth is, I'm very lonely. I work. I go to the same places where people "show me love". I have very few "friends", but a lot of acquaintances that I only talk to when I'm at different places. Hell, even those people that I consider good friends only talk to me over text, or when I send them a message. Most of my interactions either occur on Facebook, or in a bar.

I don't feel anyone else anymore. I used to be able to feel everyone I've known at all times. It was like there was string between us, and I could always tell how they were feeling. Not anymore.

I'm alone.

And it's terrifying.

People say, "How can you be alone? I see you talking to people all the time!"

Do you see how long those conversations last? Maybe a minute or two. Then, they're on to someone else.

I'm an afterthought.

I am the epitome of "Hey! It's that guy!".

And they move on.

I see you.
I help you.
I love you.

All of you.

Everything is late today.

No matter what I did today, everything ended up late.


I woke up late.

My bus was late.

Then, he took a wrong turn, and we ended up going about a mile and a half out of the way. So, he decided to turn around. Since I was running late anyway, I got off the bus, and tried to catch the next one that would come by.

That bus was 20 minutes late.

When I got on, there were two people in wheelchairs. It always takes a while to get them off the bus.

On the way downtown, we ran into EVERY red light.

I went to a bar to meed up with some new friends, and it was so busy, it took 45 minutes to get a drink.

By the time it showed, I had to leave.

I went to another bar to get a trophy and sing a song, and when I was done, I had JUST missed the bus. So, I had to walk to work.

The only thing that was on time tonight was me. Getting to work.

There just seemed to be a lot of things that were trying to keep me from my plans, or to make them very difficult.

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.