Things that make me drink...

Seriously, I have to say it somewhere that I just think it's ridiculous... you know, the whole thing about the taco meat.  I mean, it's taco meat from a fast food taco place... what do you really expect?  I have to agree with whoever said that if you feel so curious that you have to thing about what's in the meat, you may just want to pass on it!

But this is what we are as Americans, I suppose.  We have to bitch and gripe about every little thing, don't we.  I mean, I do...

I think the water is boiling now... guess I need to add the pasta and make dinner...

derogatory...

Once upon a time, I began to enjoy the trips to my in-law's home.  I enjoyed the light conversation and the opportunity to pretend that i fit in somewhere...

I believe the decline of my welcome there occurred when I inadvertently made it known to my mother in-law that I was an atheist.  (this simple fact I thought she had understood by this time)  It happened on an easter a couple of years back.  Okay, fuck... things seemed okay, and then this past year of T-give I was invited to the bar with her father and brother.  Honored, and obviously would be a blatant slap in the face should I refuse, and so I accepted...  I have nothing to converse about with these people... they know as little about Shakespeare and Oscar Wilde as I know about hunting and football.  regardless, her brother did one thing that does srtike accord with me... the shot.

(3 phases of shots: 1 (i just met you) Lets do a shot of ----?  2 (i like you enough) Lets do a shot, what do you like, I'll do my fave. 3 (friends)  what you drinking, we'll do the same together.)

Her brother did shots that I chose... for the first time I felt welcomed without the previously mentioned walls between...

My wife asked how it went, and I honestly answered that it was an exercise in uncomfortable silence, but that her brother and I did shots.  Later, I was berated for letting my youngest taste the wine(none to her liking... surprise?) and that I offered a sip off my home made cider to my wife's oldest.  (Yeah, ben doesn't drink, and it would have shocked the hell out of me should he accept)  My mum-in-law then seemed to take an interest in a conversation I was having with one of her friends where I was engaged in a debate about the harms and effects of pornography on our youth... and she finally just said that she read my facebook and felt that I was putting on some facade there to gain followers... I blatantly spoke, and asked if she doubted my true nature, would she wish to hear it then... thus challenged, I spoke as I am, wont to do...

I will say that X-mas was a very uncomfortable time... and I am sure I was no longer as welcome to the family... I was not invited for the drink as I had been before... and I was most certainly dealt with in a more curt and defined manner that was obviously not a welcome manner.

And thus I have come to understand that I am most un-welcome... but I am who I am... I object against censorship of any kind, I praise ethnic diversity, and I relish in the freedom to enjoy pornography!

I have no family of my own... and I now realize that I should never rely on any one to be that for me...

Okay... alone I fucking gripe...  i comprehend... and now, one more shot and off to another restless night of sleep...

(moral of the story: if you can act, don't drop the act!)

Do you know time it is in England?

Seriously, if you want to know, Click this Shit!  It's almost happy hour!

Okay, so I had a funny experience... okay, maybe just mildly amusing.  I posted the blog about the drunk chick that I was clueless about, and of course, I was looking to see if I could find her on Facebook.  Well, no luck.  I also looked to find her friend who I liked a lot, just never like that.  No dice either.

The next day, the friend found me on Facebook and friended me.

Okay, maybe just amusing to me.

More snow today.  When I was young I used to love when it would snow because I would love to go out and play in the white stuff.  I used to shovel the driveway and pile it all up in one corner so I could make an igloo...  and I had some pretty kick ass ones in my days.  I miss making igloos.  I kinda want to make one on the porch of my apartment.  I just need a lot more snow if I'm going to get enough from the sidewalk out front and side... fingers crossed.

Okay... off to the The Porno World!  (Probably post update tonight!)

Taking a break for a short story

"I have this cousin who has a farm," man one says.

"Yeah?" Man two prompts.

"He's a little weird.  He lives alone, and I guess he gets lonely.  He likes to fuck the animals," man one explains.

"That messed up," man two comments.

"No, what's really messed up is how he feels guilts afterwards and kills the animals he fucks," Man one states.  "Then he butchers them up and eats them."

"Wow," Man two says.

"He's having a pig roast this weekend," man one says.  "You want to come along?"

(If I understood why conversations like this happen in my head while I wash dishes, I feel that I would be better able to understand the very strange nature of my mind.)

Pass one down...

I so hate sobriety some days.  It makes me wish I could just keep drinking all the time.  of course, the damage to the kidneys can be more taxing that the damage done to the liver... and the liver must die first.

There was this girl, and I was an idiot.  Natural blonde, huge tits, and she evidently liked me a lot and I never caught on.  She used to come and swim with me in her tiny bikini and once even flashed me... oh, may I never forget that moment.  It was the first time I had ever been flashed.  Ohhh... anyway, so I never picked up on it.  How stupid... I played hero then.  There was a time when she called me, claiming to have drunk a large about of vodka.  I got to her house and found her acting ridiculous and may have actually been drunk.  She had torn her refrigerator apart and there was a big mess all over the floor of smashed eggs, chocolate sauce and other things. She was trying to bathe her dog in stuff, she said.  I cleaned her dog off, cleaned the floor and sent her to get a shower.  She invited me to join her... should have.  Instead I left her passed out in her bed in just a towel.  I went home...

dumb ass... What the hell!  Seriously!  I was such a dumb shit!

coffeecoffeecoffeecoffeetwitchcoffeecoffee...

I feel that I have come to the over halfway point in the book i'm writing... i mean, that means nothing considering that I could write twice as much as I expect before I finally feel that the story has been told...

You know, I'm just feeling lost when it comes to what to post today.  Kinda reminds me of the sketch from Kids in the Hall where they had the one guy play an author who wrote through his writers block... something like this: "the night was... ahhhh, ummm?  how was the night?  oooohhh ummm ahhhh?  it was... it was... ummmm" and so on.  Kinda funny.

I love trying to think of opening lines... though I usually have a story first, every so often an opening line will spark a story.  Two books started that way: "The cat was the first person Twitch met when he woke up..." from Twitch and the Cat and "suicide should have been an easy thing, Uri thought as he woke up the next morning after taking all the sleeping pills the night before" from Deus ex Machina.  The book I'm writing now starts with "As most young boys of any time period, Charz looked into the unknown with awe and wonder."  It's not bad, but I can tell that I started with a story not a first line.

Okay.... I've had a lot of coffee and can no longer sit here... maybe I'll take a nap?

Oh, I get it now!

When I was in middle school, I met this kid and we became friends.  He was odd.  His dad was really odd.  His mother was certifiable and always yelled and pulled at her hair.  Of course, she had a twelve yr old boy, and then three girls, ages 1, 2, 4...

His dad had lots of porn.

When I was nine, I found these magazines in my dad's "study" (or the room where my dad had all of his fun toys stashed because he needed to grow up) and I took them for my own.  I loved the feeling I got looking at these naked women and reading the stories about sex, but I had no idea how it all worked.  I still hadn't figured out what to do with the one eyes salute that arose every time I looked at tits.

Through a stupid brag to my cousin, I was found out as having this material.  I was cornered and my parents tried to explain sex to me.  They were so embarrassed about the subject that I was sure they probably had no idea what they were doing.  I wondered how I cam about.  I mean, I took from that three painful hours at the dining room table these pieces of advice: 1-have sex with someone older and more experienced (and I from that day since looked at all my teachers at school and wondered what else they could teach me) 2- wear a condom when you go on dates (i was very confused on this.  evidently, as I was led to believe, being in close proximity to a woman on a date like situation would cause me to ejaculate in my pants.  I pictured my older cousin sitting at Chi-Chi's blowing wads in his pants while talking to a girl.)  3-it's not good to look at pictures of naked women, but when I was ready I could get one naked for myself. (yeah... um... still confused on that one.)

To conclude, when I was about 12, I watched for the first time an x-rated movie.  The title was Debbie Does Dallas 3, and the first sex scene I ever watched was between the two chicks and Ron Jeremy!  I suddenly understood what my parents were trying to explain.  I still have no clue how I came to be, but i now am sure how to explain sex to my children!  As with anything else, let the pro's do the explaining!

The end of the road, toad!

Today I dug shit out of a closet... no that was yesterday... today I was organizing the shit... what a mess...

Okay, well, I'm done today, and I want a drink.  Unfortunately, I really am almost out and my wife took my car today... hmmm... okay, maybe later.

You know, there was this important thing I wanted to do today, and I forgot what it was... pretty sure it had something to do with porn...  Yeah, and that's really all I got in me right now.  Maybe I'll work on writing some porn and then the book about the continents...

Shower!  I was going to shower!  That's what I forgot... okay, well, I guess that... has nothing much to do with porn?  Oh, well...

This shirt was clean this morning...

I made a big ass pot of baked beans, and they're okay.  I have shit all over my shirt, and I'm pretty sure I turn about 3 yrs old when I eat beans.

And on and on and on and on....

I often wish I was funny... when I was younger I just wanted to be witty and funny and I wanted people to think I was interesting... I suppose not much has changed.  When I was young, I felt I was more mature than the kids my age.  At a young age, I knew that naked women were nice to look at, and I wanted to see one in real life.  When we went to mexico, I stayed up really late one night to watch cinemax, and I watched a movie that may have defined my mental state about women...

So the movie was called "Body Double" and there was this really long scene where the woman was meant to be killed.  I watched the scene, and the whole time I was so aroused that had I known about masturbation, I would have let fly like nothing.  Being too young to quite understand that whole process yet, I just lay there silently drooling as I watched this woman suffer before finally being drilled to death.

Since then, I would have these dreams about women being hurt and tortured, and I would wake up with this thing... well, you get it.  It took years for me to understand this as a sadistic fetish, and until then I was worried that I would end up being a murderer of women just to get off.  It was when I started to understand fetish that I started to understand that it would be okay.

I suppose you can say that I've had my fun at times, and as I've become an adult... yeah, I still totally enjoy welt marks!

Huh, that's nowhere near where I was going to go with this... huh?  Okay, well, that's about all for that.

Oh, right, I was going to tell the story about my parents being at a party of a neighbors and the kids were supposed to be watching tv in the living room while the adults played cards in the dining-room and all the other kids fell asleep and I was going to try to put my hand up the neighbor girl's shirt while she was sleeping to touch her 8yr old nipples, but all I could muster was the guts to touch my lips on hers... but I got distracted from that story...

Breaking the booze rules?

So I had promised to myself that I wouldn't drink again until I finished 100 pages... of course, how do I really determine this length?  I should have given myself a word count.  Either way, I ended up drinking last night and the night before...

Eh... at least I'm not an alcoholic... they go to meetings.  Seriously, who has time for that shit?

So, I wrote and posted my next piece of the Reports blog today.  I finished reading the 3 musketeers this morning, and I ate soup for brunch.  Did some dishes, started a new batch of wine, and had a cup of tea... I'm ready to face the world... or make coffee because I feel tired.

Okay, so this is a boring post with not really any good story here today.  Eh... if you want something really fun, read the Porno shit.  I think I'm brewing a pot of coffee and working on my book soon.

Stomach grumbling...

So I've fed my son four times so far, and he still wants more... how much more can he possibly eat?  And, aside from that, I haven't eaten yet today.  And I fed my wife too... ugh... okay, water boiling for Gnocchi...

You know what, I'm tired and I want to eat and I want to finish the book I'm reading...

You know what, just not into writing this right now...

And they'll just do it for me...

I made a vow... to not have another drink until I finish another 75 pages... why?  so I'll feel productive?  Or is it because I have almost completely exhausted my supply of home made hooch?  Yeah, evidently I've been drinking a lot... oops.

So I'm imposing a ban on my booze until I either finish another 75 pages (as of 8 pages ago) or have or bought for me.  Of course, there's the thing.  I am confident that all I need to have is enough cash for one drink, and the rest can be bought for me.  It's easy, really.  Just be a little pathetic but really interesting to the right person, and I can get free drinks.  I've done it so many times... but you just have to learn not to be picky about it.

You see, there are three kinds of people who buy you drinks.  There is the, "I want you to like me" buyer, who just buys you what he's having.  This is the lowest, and is usually a shitty shot.  The next up is the person who wants to do a shot, and you do separate shots of your respective choices.  Not bad, and you get something you like.  The top is the person who says, "What do you like, we'll do that!"  This is a sign that a person likes you and this is the best kind of shot to have with people. 

But really, I just want a fucking shot!

It Snowed... but not enough...

It started to snow last night, and it only snowed enough to be annoying.  I want that snowstorm that dumps twenty feet... eh...

So I keep thinking about the dreams I've been having.  My dreams have always been odd... sadly, I had none last night that were worth remembering.  Oh well.

When I was little, or about 15, we had all these birds.  In fact, one day, a bird just flew into our house.  And of all birds, it had to be a conure... oh, how I hated conures...  Well, this bird flew into our house one day, and would just sit on the ceiling fan.  and then one day, it started to follow my brother everywhere.  If you got near my brother, it would puff up and attack you.  I laughed that it was always on him.  He would walk through the front door and down the damn thing would swoop and land on his head.

At one point, it seemed to get tired of my brother and started following me.  Oh, it was no longer funny.  I hated that damned bird, and it would never leave me alone.  I had to trick it to get into my room and shut the door to be alone from the bird.  It would wait outside for a while, and then return to the fan.  But when my door opened, the damn bird would be flying down the hall towards me!  If I tried to pet my cat, it would attack the cat.  It was a torture the likes I pray I never have to endure again.

And then one day, it was over!  The bird started following the mini beagle named Sissy...

Oh, how I hate conures...

Coffee is another thing I miss... or not?

Drinking coffee... hoping that my improved attitude towards my diet is helping enough to enjoy this... like you care.  Just saying.

Another morning of really odd dreams.  This one, I go to take a nap in my apartment, and then I wake up to knocking.  I wake up at my old house, only it's looking more worn and dusty since I don't live there any more.  I answer the door and this guy pushed inside and mumbles about stuff I can't understand.  I realize that somehow I'm at my mother's home, and seeing that I don't want to see her ever again in my life, I duck out of the house to hide.  Once outside, I sneak around the house, and each step brings back another little story of memories.  I finally get around the left side of the house where a tree I planted when I was young is still there, only it's a lot smaller than it would be.  Its also blooming with big pink and white flowers, but they are the wrong kind of flowers.  I say something about it as I walk between the tree and the house to get to the back.  There I see myself, a younger me with glasses, sneaking from the back door of the addition with a worn porn magazine.  The other me hides behind a bush and sits on this old chair to try to jerk off as he uses a branch to prop the magazine.  I try to slip away unnoticed when all of a sudden a whole bunch of the neighbors come out of their houses and look around like they're looking for me.  I try to run away through the weeds and brush, but I get all tangled up and can't get away...

Really, it was odd... This isn't the first time in the past few weeks that I've had weird dreams about seeing my mother again or ending up back at my old house.  Eh...  who knows what my brain is really thinking.

the black hole called web comix

So, I'm chilly and in need of just curling up with a good book in a fluffy blanket and maybe something delicious, like alfredo and wine... or just a nice bottle of whiskey.  Oh, hell, a cheep bottle of whiskey would do just as well.  Winter brings out the manic depressive drunk in me... unless there's snow.

I've been slowly chipping away at writing this book, and it's about to take a turn.  More action coming soon!  Yeah!

Last night's bottle emptying was good.  I went to bed peacefully and had weird dreams... mostly anxiety dreams.  At least it's not the sex dreams.  I always hate those.  See, in my sex dreams, I keep getting really close to having  sex, and then something gets in the way of it actually happening.  Like one dream, years ago, I was about to have sex with this really hot chick I worked with.  I had talked her into it, and she agreed, but I couldn't find a condom anywhere.  She wouldn't have sex without it, and I had no idea where one was.  When I finally found one, she changed her mind.

That's not the first time I had that dream... and it happened in real life to me twice.  Once I was trying to break it off with this one chick and I was in bed with another, and I over thought what I was doing until she said we shouldn't.  The other time, she was okay with it until i said something that made her mad and she stopped me.  Eh... fucking dreams come true... not always so good.

Sooo... you like vacuums too?

I've decided to drink tonight.  And evidently, Star Trek movies are on...  Next, Generations... ha!  Puns...

Okay, so with my drinking and depression, I am wondering about things like... i have no idea... um, so...

You know, I was listening to a song today on the way to get toilet paper and diapers and I had an epiphany.  (I'm told that people only have one or two in their lives... I feel that I have them on a weekly basis... perhaps I do not understand the word?)  The song was called "Alone" by a group called the Prophetess.  I saw them live, years ago.  They were heading somewhere and ended up doing a show at my local club.  It was awesome!  They were going to hang out with a group of people I was friends with, and was invited.  I had other plans.

Okay, so I was going to see this woman that I was trying to get together with.  She worked that night and I was to meat her at about 11:30 that night.  The show was over by 10:30, and I headed out to see this woman.  I waited for an hour after she was to meet me, and she never showed up.  I headed home, dejected and rejected.

I decided to see if the bands were still at the diner they were planning to hit that night.  They were there.  I ended up sitting with the lead singer of the band, "The last dance" and he told me to just forget about her.  He was right...

I ended up marrying that woman.  And now we're divorced.  We have a daughter together who I never see... and it tears me apart.  My life is a collection of regrets from that moment on... and I realized as I was driving home from that quick run to the store that I have made the worst decisions in my life when it pertains to women.

Okay, that was tragically shitty!

Gonna be a day

So... I was sick yesterday, feel better today, have a show tonight, and I vacuumed the living room!  Man, I love this new vacuum!

For anyone interested, and that won't be too many, I'm sure, but I've been doing some sketches with the thought of putting out my own webcomic... only I kinda suck at drawing cartoon like drawings... so I practice.  On the upside, I can draw naked women, so maybe i'll post shit on my The Porno World.

Okay, time to find food...

Still dealing with the sick boy...

My son has been vomiting for three days now... I just want the shit to go away.  He seemed better all day until just about 10 minutes ago... That's right, time to get the french fries out...

Okay, that's better...

So, I'm happy I have a rug shampooer at this point.  And that reminds me of a funny story involving my dumb ass brother.  See, my brother bought this car off of some guy.  The car had no paperwork, and didn't really seem to belong in any tangible way to the guy selling it.  But my brother needed a car and handed over a couple hundred bucks cash for this car.  So, finding no way to prove the car belonged to anyone to buy it from on paper, he picked up an old plate that was lying on the road once, put my registration sticker (that he stole when it came in the mail) and drove the car as though it were legal.

Sometime while driving this car of questionable origin, he borrowed my mothers professional rug shampooer.  Soon after he borrowed it, he got in an accident or got pulled over for something stupid. (the details evade me now, but the result was the same)  The car was impounded and was to be destroyed unless it could be proven that he owned the car.  So before the car was "salvaged" my brother paid $40 to get into the car in the impound yard to get out anything of value... so after getting his $50 bag of weed from the glove box, he signed to have the car salvaged.  And that was the end of my mother's rug shampooer.  He told my mom he wasn't allowed to get anything from the car, but bragged to everyone else that it was the most expensive pot he ever bought.

Again... dumb-ass...

Working on the new book

Seems like today is another day of caring for a sick child and entertaining a bored one.  Funny how siblings get into trouble together so well, but seem lost apart...

Weird...  I once had a brother... he was such an opposite from me.  He brooded on shit and was always playing "pity me, I'm sad" shit.  I mean, I was depressed a lot, too, but I never let it get me down to the point where that was all people remembered me for.  Seriously, he would keep his head down and mope about everything.  We worked together at a couple of places, and people would eventually end up asking what was wrong with my brother.  I would always shrug and just tell people that was just who he was.

One of my favorite stories about him involved this huge titted cheerleader who just wanted to have sex with no relationship since she was in college and didn't want to get tied down.  My brother never did anything with her and moped about how she didn't want him.  Dumb ass!

I miss the eggs!

For the longest time, I ate eggs almost every morning for breakfast.  It could be a sandwich, or an omelet, or breakfast burrito, or whatever... but I loved having eggs for breakfast.  Especially dippy eggs with toast or english muffin... but now I'm to avoid eating them since I have this gall bladder thing.  (yeah, I know, i'm an old man.  Not because I have medical issues, but because I'm talking about them to the public.  Though, to be fair, no one reads this damn blog, so what the fuck does it really matter.)

Of course, with a sick kid, and my wife leaving for work, and entertaining the not sick kid, I skipped breakfast and am only now, at 1pm grabbing food.  Making a soup... and grilled cheese on wheat bread.  But I love wheat bread.  This I don't mind.  It's the fact that I love wheat toast with butter dipped in my eggs that I mind!

Eating the Celery... Because I like it!

So, I just want to bitch about something for a minute:  Don't write checks you can't cash!

In other words, if you make a comment about something that people do, but you don't, you have spoken a check you can't cash.  If a chick makes a comment about sucking dick that isn't "I just don't" then I assume you do!  If you make jokes about 69, then I assume you partake.  If you joke about anal sex, then I know you allow.

But if I get you in a private situation and you say, "no, i don't like to 69" after joking with someone about it, then you are a liar!  Just saying!

So, like I said, don't write checks you can't pay out!

Nothing like nOthing

Seriously, there's nothing like writing a blog that no one reads!  I can say whatever I want, and no one will ever find out!  It's like a big secret that I keep hidden on my desk for every one to see, but no one wants to look at my desk!

At least people are reading the porn!

And there you have it... heart and soul into the shit that I put so much time into, and it's the porn that people love... okay, I love it, too!