Drinking is Cool

   I first wrote this story in November, but due to retardation and general lack of coordination I deleted it. Damn that pissed me off. It pissed me off enough to not rewrite it until now.

   Anyway, I went to see The Riverboat Gamblers one night in Denton. It was a pretty kick ass show (aside from the fact that it happened in Denton). That town gives my pal Greg diarrhea. Too much pachouli or something. Nonetheless, That band kicked some pretty serious ass. Not to mention the opening bands were pretty cool too. A pretty raucous show indeed. I really really enjoyed the show. I'd recommend seeing The Riverboat Gamblers to anyone who enjoys beer and serious stage antics. I also got to see my pal Gale. I hadn't seen her in forever. It was interesting to catch up on all the people that I either don't see or don't want to see anymore with her. My favorite part about the show was the really really cheap beer. They had like 18ounce cups of beer for like two bucks or something. It was nice. I took in a lot of beer, music, and scenery at the club. I let a bunch out too. I peed alot.

   The show ended. I had to get home and nap, so I left. On my way home from Denton I was slightly intoxicated. I could tell by my feeble attempts at multitasking. I was drunk dialing people, flipping through stations on the radio, smoking cigarettes, and eating some snack food that I picked up at the gas station. Anyway, I was driving down this road and looking for something decent on the radio, smoking a cigarette, and suddenly I heard some noises. The noises were quickly followed by some herky-jerky type movement. Then I saw lotsa flashes, sparks, and a big ass balloon wacked me in the face. My car was stopped? "What the Fuck!?" I said in my head. Then I assessed the situation. Hmmmmmm. Looks like I just sorta ran off the road into a field and my airbag went off. I wasn't in any pain and I didn't get why the hell the airbag went off. So I started the car back up and hit the gas. For some reason the car wouldn't go anywhere. I got out of the car and took a look around. Huh, looked like the road I went off of dead ended into another road where I went off the road. Not only that but there is a pretty huge ditch that I sorta jumped I guess. I don't think I totally completed the jump though, because both of my tires were flat, the headlights fell off, the radiator was knocked out, and the front axle was bent. Those are the only parts of the car I can really name, but there was other broken stuff too.

   I thought about what to do for a minute or two and called my roommate at the time Greg. Luckily he had been out drinking that night too. He was at home with his girlfriend at that point though. I asked him to come pick me up out in the middle of nowhere and he and his old lady hopped in the car to come get me. I waited for them while I cleaned the mud off my shoes right outside the liquor store at the corner across from where I took the Duke's of Hazzard jump and almost made it. Technically I did make that jump because once I hit the ditch I slammed the gas and jumped up again and went about 20 feet into the field. If only I was going about 20 miles an hour faster I could have totally cleared it.

   The next day I called a tow truck to get my car out of the field. Before I could finish telling the towing people where my car was they asked me if it was in the ditch/field that I barreled into and left my car in. That made me feel a little better since I'm not the only retard that has ended up in there. Right about the time the tow truck and I arrived on the scene so did a cop. She was actually a pretty nice lady. She didn't give me much hassle at all about it. She asked me what bands I went to see and how they were. She even told me a different way to get home from Denton that is less likely to make me crash (due to no streets dead ending and more lights around).

Next time I go see The Riverboat Gamblers I'm wearing a fucking helmet on the way home.

Can't beat the feeling

of being ditched on Valentine's Day. Wow, this is uncomfortable. I've met some flaky girls, but this one is most definitely the big winner. Fuck that girl in her fucking ear. She asked me to be her "valentine" or whatever you wanna call it. And now she's ditching me? This sucks because I actually liked her. I'd been seeing her for almost a month. It wasn't serious or anything, though I would have liked that. She's a fucking flake. I don't understand what the hell is the problem here.

  I tend to meet a bunch of flaky chicks. Either that or I have some magical quality that makes them run like hell. My taste in women must be really crappy or something. There is not much that bothers me more than someone flaking out on me. It's totally fine if something comes up and you let me know about it. Or even tell me, "Hey, I don't want to hang out with you". But to completely disappear and not call either, or maybe even call back like the next day and be all like, "Oh, sorry dude. Something came up." Come on people. What the fuck is your problem?

  Apparently Karma is a bitch. And her name is Jenny. Now, before I continue ranting like I'm mr. good boy, I'll admit do doing this a few times before, but never after I'd been seeing somebody for as long as a month. In my own defense, I don't think it's a terrible thing if you only hang out a couple times and do that. It saves the possibility of dragging out the obvious.

  Perhaps I was too nice, maybe even an ass kisser. I don't know. I was myself, I was honest, I was real, I didn't put up a front. I wasn't mean, rude, obnoxious, or jealous. I told her my intentions. I let her know how much I liked her from the beginning. Does that sound pitiful? I don't know. She had me bad. I liked her more than I should have. I even told her that. Maybe I came on too strong. I don't know. Perhaps I'll never find out at this point. I'm guessing a phone call will come tomorrow - "Oh, I was feeling sick and my phone didn't ring because it was up my ass" or something equally stupid.

I give up. I'm off to drink beer............

I needed that

   Where the hell have I been? None of your business motherfuckers, that's where. Nobody reads this anyway. I'm an eternal optomist if you haven't noticed by now.

   Trying to find inspiration, motivation, and something to actually give a shit about. I'm unhappy with being so content. What do I mean? I have a bunch of good things going on right now, but it's not enough. Fun Job (that will be no longer within a few months), cool roommate (moving out next month), a nice house (that I'm going to have to sell in the next month or two), and a bunch of other "stuff" that is absolutely fantastic. I am an overflowing fountain of malt liquor with hot bitches in hotpants dancing, prancing, and bending over because they keep dropping those big bags of money that they want to pay me to have sex with them.

   Large sacks of marijuana, a lack of responsibility, inspiration beyond any I've had, seven cartons of cigarettes, friendship, people who care, time to think, time to waste, absolute understanding, and a place to belong. Several things I could use a bit of right now..... O.K., maybe I'm not missing all of those things. But I only have three packs of smokes right now, not quite seven cartons.

   Are there many people you've met that have inspired you to the point of wanting to be a completely different person? I don't mean in a bad way like smoking two packs a day either. Don't be like me. At least not in that way. Anyway, there are a few people from different times of my life that have affected me in ways I am yet to understand. Creative people. Interesting people. People that made me rethink rethinking. People that had me question what I thought, what I believed, and how I saw things. Not even about things like "Jesus" or whatever you call your false idols these days. Just about things. Perception maybe. Topics of conversation. Not like that kind of "Hey, let's smoke a joint and break out the ben-wah balls" type stuff either. It's difficult for me to explain. Something in those people caused me to reshape ideas about life, about creativity, about what matters. What matters to me is being around these types of people for some reason. I'm inspired by them.

   They make me want to try things. Creative things. Spend more time writing, learn about something that interests me more than my current pursuits, gather all my things and throw them off a building and then run away, sell hotdogs on the beach, listen to more dead milkmen, start a gang of people that refuse to wear brown, and are offended (or at least grossed out) by the whole "What can brown do for you" thing that UPS says to the point of writing inflammatory letters to them, do more reading, talk to more people like them, seek out pleasures of the mind, feel the way I did when I spent time with them, and the like.

   I want my own inspiration. I want to find a place and people that will feed it. I'm wasting away in suburbia. Don't get me wrong, it's not entirely unpleasant out here. My neighbors leave me alone, my dog has lots of room to run around and play, and my friends think I live too far away to come out here.

Life is not necessarily shit right now. Thanks. yeah.

Drunk posting part one

   I'm drunk, I'm at home, and it's Friday. It's nice. There's this flick on that I've seen before where this chick totally manipulates this guy. Not only manipulates him, but changes him so much you wouldn't even recognize him by the time she's done with him. He loses weight, changes his whole attitude, ditches most of his friends, and does all sorts of things just for some girl. The movie makes you believe that he's falling in love with her. At the end of the flick, she invites him to an art show thingy she's having. Right before the art show he proposes marriage. Once the show starts she goes into great detail on how she's manipulated him and changed him into a completely different person. Totally fucked up shit.
   Before I start spilling guts on how this relates to parts of my life I'm going to end this thingy. Talk at you later....

news + sitcom = funny

   At my job there are TVs everywhere that normally have some news channel on all the time. Today there is another TV right around the corner from the news channel one I can see that has a sitcom on. The volume on the sitcom TV is turned up just right so it sounds like Condocheese and rice is giving a speech about quitting her job and there is a laugh track in the background. This is a major improvement on the typical newsday. I can't stop chuckling about this for some reason. It's been going on for about 30 minutes now and I hope it doesn't stop. I don't normally have this much fun at work.

work, bitches

   Monday I found out they laid off three more people in my group at work. This comes less than a month after they laid off six others. I was hired in a group of fifteen people. Holy crap I don't know how I've survived this long! The fact that they're in the process of moving our jobs to india makes me want to vomit.
   Lots of people come to America for jobs/opportunity/to avoid death and dismemberment, etc... The landscape is changing in the technical job industry as of late. I suppose I can liken it to that of a factory worker. They found a way to outsource it cheaper for them way back in the day, and now we can all have fancy shoes for not so much cash. My what good consumers we all are! Maybe that means we'll all get software for super dooper cheap soon. Not likely.
   I can't believe it, but somehow people in India are willing to work for less than 20 percent of what folks in the U.S. are. Perhaps they can live like kings on 5 dollars a day. Who knows. The sad truth is that I have dealt with people over there pretty regularly as of late, and they seem hardly worth the little they're being paid in many cases.
   Don't get me wrong, I'm a slightly lazy american. At least I know what I'm doing on the job enough to be a little lazy though. These folks are absolutely clueless in many cases, and ten times lazier than anyone I've had to deal with. They try to cover it up by acting like they're nice. I can see right fucking through it. It's driving me nuts.
   Maybe I shouldn't worry about it and hope the company I'm working for suffers a great deal because of this. Me and most of the other people in my group in the U.S. will be gone within six months anyway. Or more likely I'm bitter. I'm thinking career change if I can't find someplace that's a little stable sometime in the near future.

Radio

alright motherfuckers. I just typed this story that took almost an hour to write and then tried to edit the font from the menu and it all disappeared. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. I quit, goodnight.

Yo.

What the fuck are you looking at? I suppose you have almost as much spare time as me since you're reading this. I've been searching for someplace to vent, and I guess this will do for now. Anyway, Thanks to vadergrrrl I've found this place. Here's shit in your eye. The end for this second.