Taking a break from the vacuum...

You know, I love this new vacuum.  It's one of those bag-less wind tunnel things.  Not bad, but it got clogged today and so I cleaned up the thing and washed the filter.  Once it dries I'll finish the cleaning.

I moved out into an apartment when I was 18, and I never bought a vacuum for it.  Never once did I vacuum the place, but I did sweep the carpet from time to time.  I miss that old apartment.  I mean, to be honest, there was nothing in particular that made the place anything fantastic.  It was a segment of cloned blocks of apartments.  I lived in the upstairs part.  It was 2 bedroom, and I didn't have a room mate. (well, most of the time.)  Though I had some great memories attached the the place.

I also never had a bed in the place.  Actually, there was a bed.  It was from the previous tenant, and it was in the room that I was going to make my studio.  I kept it in there for a while, but never dressed it or used it.

There was a vibrating anal plug on the stove hood.  My friend found it at our favorite little sex shop, and he bought it for me for my birthday.  It was red, only about four inches long, and had a plunger on the end so you could stick it to the wall for "hands free fun!"  I drove around with it on my windshield for an evening, and then suctioned it to the side of the stove hood and there it stayed for the year I was there.  It was one of those things people would often miss, but when they did realize it was there, it was a great conversation piece.

I was going to start buying other strange sex toys and the get furniture to put it on, but I ended up not.  I really wanted this giant dildo appropriately called "the Fist," and then I was going to buy a coffee table to put it on.  The thing was about 18 inches long, and pretty scary looking.  It would have been great.  Never bought it.  Wish I had.  

Beware the Pizza Bags

Once upon a time, I delivered pizza.  It was the best job ever because I ate a slice of pizza every day for breakfast for about 2 years.  Not to mention, I had no expenses but my apartment, and I made a fortune.  I had so much money.

On the weekends, I would go out to the under age club that I miss terribly now.  I met this girl, though not through the club, but through a friend of mine.  She and I got to chatting and lets say that I thought I was in.  But I've told this story before. (feb 4. 2011)  You know, about the kids who wanted to use my car to have sex.

I loved that job.  Unfortunately I moved away and couldn't justify driving 40 minutes a day to deliver pizza.

I ended up getting a job working at a telemarketing place.  That wasn't near as fun.  Though there were some good times... no, there was nothing good about it other than there was a paycheck.  I mean, I met some pretty cool people, but I've not seen any of them in ages and forget most of their names.

You know, through memory warp, I have to say that one of the best jobs I ever had was delivering pizza.  But it was the job I had right out of high school and my life was a lot more open than it is now.  Having children and such change what makes a good job.

But in the end, I just want to get paid to do this... writing!  Okay, so there's probably nothing too exciting in this one... maybe tomorrow.

Oh, the days of the boobs!

So there was this Halloween party that I was at... well, more like worked... See, this bar I worked at had this huge party for Halloween every year, and they had this big haunted house type tour.  Though to be honest, it wasn't as much scary as goofy and sexy.  Well, the one year, I was supposed to be a minion for the one room of vampires and ghouls and such.  Also in this room was this chick that I thought was amazingly hot.  (Probably because she had red hair and huge tits.  Eventually I found out she was a pretty cool chick, too.)

So, the night was going fine until there was this guy who came around.  Now understand that if you're a chick with tits, you make sure they are cleavaged and up for this night.  This guy I speak of was a regular, and often I had seen him try to pick up chicks at the bar on normal nights.  Never did I see him actually succeed, and the fact that he spoke almost no English probably had a lot to do with that.  But that night, he looked at this before-mentioned chick, and started grooving and dancing with her.  At first, we all thought she was into him, but then she gave us this look that simply said, "Help!"

I got urged to go cut in since I happened to be the only heterosexual male in the room that worked at the bar.  So I asserted myself and cut in.

Before I go any further, I should explain that I had met this chick before and was politely declined for the offer of a date or just casual sex.  This probably had to do with the fact that I was still married to my first wife at this time, even though I was looking to leave her.  So when she locked lips on mine and we started the tongue tango, I have to admit that I was not only surprised but quite elated about the event.

Now the best part of the story is yet to come.  The guy backed away and eventually went on his way through the rest of the tour, but as long as he stayed in the room, I got to make out with this absolutely gorgeous chick.  When he finally did leave, she thanked me, said I was really nice to kiss, and we went back to being ghouls as usual.

Not twenty minutes later, the guy is back.  We resumed our previous passionate kissing position, and he actually just stands beside us as though waiting for his turn.  After about ten minutes, he actually tapped me on the shoulder and said, "e'cus me."  It was pretty close to English, and the most English I had ever heard him speak before or since.  We ignored him as he tapped on my shoulder several more times as he stood there for about 15 minutes.  Again he wandered off.

Now, it was getting late and the bar would be closing in about 30 minutes.  We were pretty sure the guy was finally gone... but... just as someone was coming through to tell everyone that last call had been made and the place was closing, he popped 'round again.  Unfortunately, the time of tongue tangling was over, and we just left the room to where we got dressed and he could not follow.

Eventually, I became a bartender there and he would come in to the bar at least 2 to 4 times a week and try to pick up on the drunk chicks there.  He never succeeded, but damn did I have a funny story about him to tell whenever he came around.

Pizza every day...

As I get older, I often think back to all the silly and stupid shit that I've done or wanted to do.  Sometimes I thank myself for being to lazy to do somethings... and then I slap myself for so many other things.  Most of the slap me moments have to do with not taking someone up on an experience of sex.

Come to think of it, what the hell was I thinking when I was younger?  I mean, I had fun.  I had sex.  But had I not been so hung up on all those stupid ideals of doing the right thing, then I would have said yes to so much more.  But there's no use crying about it now, right.  It's funny the idea that as we grow older we see the ridiculous follies of our youth.

I often wonder what I would have been like now if I had not been so hung up on stupid shit then?  Would I still be the same person?  Or would I have ended up being a person I would hate to be now?

Thinking about grilled cheese?

I think I'm going to write a piece of the wonder and beauty of the Grilled Cheese Sandwich.  Hmmm...

When I was younger, I had no idea how to make food very well.  The first time I made Mac&Cheese I added a cup and a 1/4 of milk because I read the directions wrong.  It was soup.  Sucked.  But I got better through experimentations.

Life is about experimenting.  Like when I was younger and went through all the things in the bathroom cabinet to figure out what was and was not flammable.  Hairspray was the best!  In fact, one time after that day of experimenting, I was playing with the hairspray and caught the shower curtain on fire.  I got it out quick, but not before a two foot wide hole was burned away.  I never fessed up to it.  I told my first wife about all this and one day when visiting my mother she blabbed to my mother about it.  Though I was an adult and it had been almost 10 years since that happened, I got an earful about it.  Lesson learned?  Never introduce your family to your wife!

Drinking day!

One year for St. Pat's I bought this bottle of Bushmill's to celebrate.  My boy being almost 2 decided he didn't want to sleep that night, and so he was still up when I poured my first shot.  I downed it and then he quickly snatched up my shot glass and licked it.  He smiled and made a yum sound.  I was so proud.

Since then, he had refined his tastes.  At the age of almost four, he rather prefers malty beers and sweet beers, red wine, occasionally white wine, but has veered from hard liquor.

My daughter will drink about anything.  She's two.

Getting ready to drunkify!

I hated beer when I was young.  My mother used to have these pool parties when I was younger, about 12 or 13, and she would buy a couple of cases of light american beer shit that sucked.  There would always be leftover beer in the cooler the next day.  There was this one day, while my mother was still sleeping it off, our neighbor who was just a little younger than us, came over and we snuck a bunch of cans out into the pool area.  Then, we made a tent and shook the cans.  We had a knife and we punctured the sides of the cans and chugged... well, my brother and my neighbor did.  I couldn't stand the taste of the shit.

It wasn't until years later that I found good beer tastes good, and that cheap american beer is like making love in a canoe.

Okay, not near as nice a memory of getting flashed by this chick when I was fifteen.  Really big and round with the perfect nipples... is that illegal to write a memory of underage nipples?  I mean, i was underage too.  For that fact, if I come across pics from when I took picks of my 16yr old GF when I was 17... is that?  Oh, never mind.

Another one, please...

When a bartender who has been in the business sits down and drinks at the bar your currently tending, it's gonna be a good night.  Especially if he feels like telling a story.

There are some good ones, and I particularly liked the one about the guy who drank snakebites.  He would get done work and stop at the same bar everyday for one drink before heading home.  He would order his snakebite, pay for the shot and never left a tip.  Ever.  It just so happened that the tender was there every day through the week when the guy would come in.  His philosophy was, "You paid for the shot, but you've never paid for the service."  So when the guy would order the shot, the Tender would pour the Yukon into a shot glass and then splash the lime juice in and place it before the guy.  The guy took the shot, made a nasty face and said, "Don't you guys chill them here?"

Best part about the story is that this was not a one time incident.  This was every day the guy came in.  Tender set a warm shot on the bar everyday.  The guy made the same nasty face everyday.  The guy would say, "Don't you guys chill them here?" everyday.

Supposedly, humans learn from our mistakes.  At some point, you would imagine that the guy would think to ask for it chilled, but never did.

Eh, well, it made me laugh.

wasted days?

I love to read!  I can spend an entire day locked in a room with a book and not even notice that I've wasted a day.  Today i finished this wild web comic... really groovy stuff.  Kinda cool to start, and then it got very weird.  Yu+Me is what it's called.  Excellent read if you like the odd and fun.

Other than that, kind of a day where I felt my body getting sick.  Damn colds.  Seems we all have them now.

Really, I have no good stories about having a cold.  But I can tell you about a really crazy story about when I had the flu once... but I won't.

On another note, I'm always fascinated with the way people get pissed off about the weather this time of the year.  We have a nice day or two where we get a nice warm front, and then things bounce back to where it's supposed to be and people get all bent out of shape about it.  I mean, around here, this is a common occurrence, so you would figure that people would just get used to the shit.  They never do...

To drink or not to drink...

So here I sit, wondering if I should drink tonight or not.  I mean, I guess I know I'll end up drinking, I suppose I'm wondering when I will start.  I mean, I could get a head start on that now... but then I'll get sleepy.  Perhaps a nap first?

Does it constitute a problem if you are trying to schedule your drinking?  Hmmm?  I wonder.  Eh... maybe I should nap before drinking.

I've got that fuck-it-all feeling

Woke up again and had that feeling that I'm sure everyone knows.  Its that feeling of despair and longing.  Its that exhausted of life thing that grates our soul down to nothing.

And so what do I feel like today?  Whiskey would be nice, but I'm starting to feel like I should stop drinking so much.  I feel like I've only managed to fall asleep sober maybe once a week.  Eh... I'll worry about it when I'm drunk later.

Oh, and one final piece of advice for the day:  three crunch wraps may not seem like a lot, but it is a lot in the end.  But damn are they good!

I want Kool-Aid point again!

I started saving Kool-aid points late in my life because my mother always bought the cheep knock-off shit.  Then, just as I was getting enough to actually mean anything, they end the whole thing.  Shit!

I think I was supposed to order a new computer today.  Okay, you know what, I could care less to write anything here, so I'm gonna go.  See ya!

Really, I'm the normal one!

My wife has odd friends.  Actually, the problem is that she will just be friends with anyone.  I find this an odd behavior and it bothers me a lot.  I'm very picky about calling people my friends.  I wrote an essay on this once. The point of it was that you may call 10 people your work with "friends," but if you leave that job how many of those people will still keep in touch?  Maybe 2?  And how long before they no longer even send emails.  I mean, I suppose with the whole facebook thing, you can remain "friends" for as long as you don't delete them, but are they really friends?

Okay, getting way off subject here.

So my wife seems to want to collect people who have some serious issues.  There was the dirty fucking hippy who was sleeping on our floor.  She was nasty!  I mean, she smelled awful, and I said she had to get a shower to stay and she left.  When I finally cleaned the area she was sleeping, I found about eight bags from fast food places with half eaten burgers and fries in them... stashed under the layer of blankets.  I wanted to vomit to think for that moment that this dirty person who would rather be homeless than clean was sleeping on rotting fast food for at least 2 weeks... fucked up!

Now she has this woman that is leaving her husband who may be a junkie, rapist, and general douche-bag.  There are restraining orders and such involved.  Very dramatic.  So I've been watching her son while she works a few times over the past couple of weeks.  He likes to cry in his blanket a lot.  He bites.  And he eats toys.

Really, once I got out of being a teenager, I admit that I have little interest in getting involved with this kind of shit.  But my wife seems to enjoy surrounding herself with these desperately pathetic people and situations.  I mean, I hated the drama in high school.  I read once that you surround yourself with like minded people.  And this is yet one more reason I worry about my marriage.

On the upside, she's not interested in reading any of my work, so she'll never actually read this so I will never be in trouble for this.

Feeling that feeling again

I woke up too early today and I can't do a damn thing about it.  I want to just go back to bed.  Nope.  And so here I am trying to think of something witty to say.  But what does it matter because no one reads this blog.  Everyone just reads the pornography I write.  I guess I shouldn't complain because at least people are reading something I'm writing.

I had a pool when I was growing up... I wish I knew now then because I would have totally used that pool so much more to my advantage... and I mean sex.  I was a fun guy with a pool and a sense of humor and so on... or so I now imagine I must have been.

But oh well.  I often wonder how much time I spend dwelling about on things I'd passed over that I was ridiculously stupid for doing so.  Funny how we look at our past.  Oscar Wilde wrote once that, "The way to revisit one's youth, one must simple repeat the same mistakes."  Hmmm...