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All the ladies still want me.

Life is precious, stop drinking and go tell someone you love them!
Whiskey Good
I did something stupid.

Followers of my Facebook and receivers of my drunken texts already know that a few nights ago I had an evening of boozy merriment with a friend of mine. It was our first chance to really hang out and we both had enough money to tie one on good and proper, so why the hell not?

It was grand, too! I hadn't gone out in quite a few months and was genuinely happy to be out and about, distancing myself from my worries and concerns (which lately have been relatively few, all said and done), and boozily belting out the hits of the 70's and 90's to a crowd of about eight. Good times all around!

Problem was, in my excitement to go out drinking, I neglected to put any food in my system, which meant the relatively normal amount of beer I poured into my system hit me like a ton of bricks (ooohhh foreshadowing!).

The night progressed onward, my extroverted friend bounced around to various people he knew, I remembered I had a phone and began amusing myself through texting and Facebook. Eventually it was time for us to leave, so we settled up and made our way out the door.

Now, I don't tend to black out often, and when it does happen, it's usually at the worst possible time. As anyone who has been around me when I hit that point can attest to though, I become an absolute idiot during these times. I don't think about anything, live exclusively in the moment, and the concept of critical thinking doesn't enter my mind. This is when I tend to do those stupid drinking things I later end up regretting. In tonight's episode, the blackout occurred precisely from the moment we walked out of the bar to the moment my friend started his car with me safely buckled into the passenger seat, ready to go.

What happens next should surprise nobody. Suffice it to say, I'm unbelievably lucky to be sitting here, typing this right now.

We made it less than a quarter mile. Heavy foot + dulled reflexes is a terrible mix. The road curved left, but our trajectory did not curve enough with it, and we sped off the road and into a brick fence surrounding a gated community. Blasted a huge chunk out of the wall and spun the car around. I stumbled out, drunk and confused, wondering why the airbags deployed and why that goddamn horn wouldn't shut up already. I came around to the driver side to check, and my friend looked up at me, very dazed. I'm pretty sure he banged his head really hard, but his eyes were open and he was moving, so my attention turned to the keys, which I yanked out in a vain attempt to stop the racket, and that was about the time the police got there. They made sure we weren't injured, got our statements, let me go when I assured them I lived close by and had someone I could call for a ride, and alas, my friend's fate remains uncertain. He's not in jail at least, but beyond that, it's his story to tell. I called Arthur, thank God he answered, explained the situation, and he came and got me. The shitty thing is, I should have thought to do that in the first place. Before leaving the bar. I should have been aware enough to see that the drinks hit my friend way harder than I thought. I was too enamored with texting and beer and music to be bothered with thoughts of survival, and that is profoundly, insanely, and self-destructively stupid.

I hate that. I never, ever, EVER want to be so stupid again. It's one thing to get drunk and pee on a dumpster. It's an entirely different thing to get drunk and then into a car with a drunk driver. Right now it feels like the entire right side of my body got into a fight with Jason Bourne and Godzilla, but just one slight shift in angle, a few degrees difference, and the last thing any of you would have heard from me was a drunken, happy Facebook update.

I can't go out like that. Not now. Not when things are finally getting better in my life.

And that's just it.. It seems like we live forever because from the perspective of the self, we do. But one bad judgement call can turn a happy occasion into "that night we almost died." Or worse. Life is fleeting, and we don't get to choose when it ends. If my life ended right now, while I have so much left that I want to do, it would be simply unacceptable. A life devoid of meaning and impact. Not to say I don't matter to anyone, I know that isn't the case. More that.. I have so much more to give to the world and all I've been doing is idling by and doing nothing. And I could have died! Instead of pursuing my goals (I have goals now, yay!), I've been sitting around and thinking about what to do about this that and the other. I've only recently made the shift from thinker to doer, and if I die before I'm done, I'm going to be SO pissed.

So do me a favor. If there's something you're waiting on, stop waiting. Go do it. Don't talk about visiting Europe, plan out a vacation and work towards paying for it! Don't lie in bed all day, lamenting having to do anything, go outside! Even if you just go outside and lie down in the grass on a blanket, congratulations, you're doing! Don't stay quiet when you know you love someone because you're afraid. Tell them you love them and they mean the world to you and you'd do absolutely anything for them were they to but ask (assuming that's all true, and if it isn't, sorry Chief, you ain't in love.).

My point is, we really don't know how much time we have on this mortal coil, but we have so much stuff to do in life, so any time spent not in pursuit of your goals is wasted time. Your time here is a precious and beautiful gift, but it takes work to make it truly shine.

Make your life shine. And I love you.

Women be shoppin'.
Spider's Trash
I pissed on a cat today.

It was an accident, mind you! I didn't, like, wait there behind the curtains, waiting for it to stop moving.. luring it with a little catnip mouse or something... it stops to sniff the mouse and I just jump out and piss on its face. I'm saying I didn't do that, so calm down.

No, we're trying to introduce a new cat into an old cat's environment, and there's this whole process you have to go through to do it right otherwise there's problems like fighting, pissing all over the place, and catfights in the wee hours of the morning. Basically it's like Bourbon Street with less security. We don't want that to happen, so we've sequestered the new cat in the bathroom for a few days as part of the introduction process. Now, this new cat is a big ol' fat n' suishy, orange, fluffy, Garfield-type cat who is used to lots of love and affection, so this means every time you go into the bathroom at my house now there's this adorable orange puffball just rubbing against your legs, purring, like "Pet me, pet me!" And we all like the cat, so we do, we give him lovins and pets and he purrs and loves it, but earlier today I REALLY had to pee. I spent the morning drinking coffee and water and ranting at people online, so I had an incredible amount of pee stored up at this time. I felt there should've been a little Scottish starfleet engineer down by my bladder shouting "We can't hold it captain! She's about to blooo!" So when it got to the point where I could no longer hold it and I sprinted for the bathroom, first of all, I wasn't even thinking about the cat, so when I ran in and he started doing little figure eights around my legs all cute like, he kinda got caught between them like a thrown axle between spokes on a wheel, and because I was going so fast, he kinda got, well, flung through the air and into the bath tub like a frisbee.. I mean, he's a big ol' tubby cat, so he bounced, he wasn't injured, he just went zinging through, bounced off the tile like a half-full water balloon, landed on his feet (because that's what cats do), and gave me a look like "What the fuck, dude?" I didn't really have time to care though, I just had to go! So I take everything out and begin to pee the pee of a thousand lifetimes. It was a pee so good it gave me visions of a glorious and bright future where all of humanity joins hands in the bonds of peace and love and togetherness. All that is good and right and true in the world comes flowing through me as I empty the Atlantic ocean out my pee hole. I guess the cat must have felt the good vibes and thought "I'll forgive you if you pet me right now," because he climbed up on the edge of the tub, put his front paws on the edge of the toilet bowl, and before I could put an arm out, say no, yes, or boo-diddley, he steps right across the bowl, and right into the path of my pee stream. It was terrible. I couldn't stop, either, because there was just soooo much pee. I couldn't pee somewhere else because, what, pee on the floor? Pee in the tub? I'll get it on the floor! Plus he's a big cat so he covers the entire bowl pretty much, so the only thing I could do was pee on him and sort of do a bank shot into the bowl. Oh, it was awful. The poor cat was so starved for affection at this point too, he was loving it! He was all leaning into the stream, purring, you know... like someone who put their shower on the massage setting, just "Aaaaaaahhhhh....."

I tried giving him a bath afterwards. That went poorly. The fur kept sticking to my tongue, and it tasted like piss.

*Now that you've read all that, I'm just going to point out that this is fictional. So Holly, should you read this, don't worry, Noah has has no pee touch his fur that I know of.

What's the deal with airplane food, amirite?
Spider's Trash
In my room, my desk is the main surface area. It's where I put my keys and charge my phone, do what little paperwork I actually acknowledge, my computer is on there, I eat on this little pull-out part.. basically all my horizontal surface-based needs are served by this thing, including toiletries. What stands out the most though is, because I live in Colorado, a dry climate, I have a massive bottle of Vaseline Intensive Care Cocoa Radiant lotion right next to my computer. It's just the most logical place for it! It's right by the deodorant, it's in easy arm's reach from where I towel off after a shower and get dressed, but right next to my computer, just about as far away from me as the mouse is.. I don't want people getting the wrong idea or anything. I don't sit there masturbating with the lotion. Why waste the lotion? When I sit there masturbating, I do it rough. Like a real man! I've got rough hands, too, so it's kinda like rubbing your willy with fine-grit sandpaper. Oh sure, you groan and cross your legs now, but I will bet you dollars to donuts that the skin on your delicate nethers isn't near as smooth or as tough as mine. It's like teflon. Bullets and eggs and stuff just ping right off. It's kind of amazing, really. I'm currently being contracted my the military because of it. What? I'm serious. They want to do tests and try and figure out how to replicate my penile skin in a laboratory so that they can make body armor out of it. Initial tests are promising. The only problem is when the armor gets wet it shrivels like a dried-out slim jim, crushing the test dummies like beer cans. I hope they're able to remedy that flaw, though (for more than one reason). Just imagine.. the brave and wonderful men and women of the armed services, fighting for good and freedom in the most dangerous places across the globe, protected by the latest in technological advances.. crafted from my penis. I'm just an honest American, doing his part to help fuck the bad guys just a little bit harder.

And it's all thanks to internet porn. Take that, naysayers!

(no subject)
Spider's Trash
It occurs to me that the only way to get better at writing something is by just writing. I should carry a notebook with me to write down the funny thoughts I have over the course of the day. Maybe then record myself ranting about said topic (because I seem to be funnier on the spot, at least while talking. The average reader doesn't see all the changes I make while typing. Go back, delete that, shorten that, change that word, etc. You can't do that with talking, and much of the time I wouldn't even need to, but still, I think it would help to record it, write out the funny bits, and then refine from there. Trim the fat until all you have is pure gold bars of comedy. Then remember that stuff, flesh out the delivery, try it on people, and boom! A joke! I have literally nothing to lose from trying this and the whole world to gain. If I truly do deserve happiness, then following my dreams is probably the best way to go about it. If I get sad and think that it's too late for me to achieve success, I just need to remember that I'd never even heard of Ricky Gervais till he was in his 40's, and he's probably right about at the success level I want to have. To have enough fame that I can weather infamy (he's really outspoken and doesn't care who he pisses off, and I like that), enough money/interest that I can always find a way to achieve my next project/idea, enough time between projects to be able to enjoy myself before the next big thing, and enough health and vitality to be able to do it all and be happy doing it.

And really, that's where it all begins, isn't it? Just doing it.

Outgoing transmission 001: Umm.. help?
Spider's Trash
Today began like any other day. Well, any other day where I haven't had nearly enough sleep but still need to get up early and be productive. I woke with just enough time to pound down a cup of coffee and a couple of biscuits, and was out the door at 7:45. I locked the door, put on my headphones, and disappeared into the groove of the morning.

The problem with headphones is that sometimes they cause you to not pay attention to your surroundings. Normally it's not a problem, I'm so used to the walk at this point that I can dance the entire way to the bus stop with my eyes closed and still make it on time, probably only falling once or twice. This morning, however, I got caught up listening to Jackie Wilson ("You know your love.. keep on liftin'.. higher.. higher and higher..") and was getting to the point where I was happy enough that I no longer minded that I had to be up so early, when I opened my eyes, looked around, and realized I had no idea where I was. Like, not only was I not on the street I thought I was on, I wasn't even in the right neighborhood. I saw a street sign.. Lee Ave? Where the hell is that? Clearly, I had a dilemma. I had ten minutes to get to my bus stop or I was going to have to hoof it to work. I looked to the sky to try and get my bearings, maybe figure out where the main road was, but the cloud cover was so thick the sun wasn't visible in the slightest. I looked behind myself, but left no discernible tracks anywhere I looked. How in the hell?

Being that it was way earlier than anyone I know gets up, and I was the person opening the store today, there wasn't anybody I could call for help or to give a heads up to at that moment. All I could do was pick the direction which seemed most likely to lead to a main road, take a deep breath, and run like the dickens. The Jackson 5 came on the headphones at this time, which was fortunate, as the fast-paced rhythms and upbeat grooves are great for when you need to run somewhere fast.

As I ran, I began to focus on my form. I didn't want to think about by breath, the distance to where I hoped the bus stop was, or how my legs were starting to hurt. I just tried to focus on my positioning. Knees higher, lean more forward, think like you're climbing stairs, and so on.. the things I think about to distract myself while running. These distractions were working wonderfully because after a minute or so, I began to feel like I was falling forward. Not towards the ground, but almost like I was gliding downhill. All other thoughts departed as I began to feel somehow lighter. I pumped my legs, leaned in a bit more, and my feet kept pace. It felt like I was running down a vertical cliff face at this point. I was moving so quickly and so effortlessly that for a brief moment I thought I had developed super speed! That's silly, of course, superpowers don't exist. Still, it wasn't long after that I noticed my feet left the ground. Still moving. Feet no-groundy. Uh-oh?

I stop moving and realize now that I'm being propelled forward and upwards. I also feel a slight squeezing around my midsection, and look down to see metallic tentacles snaking their way around the top parts of my legs. Shit! Shocked, confused, and horrified, I try to wrench my legs free, but the tentacles are holding firm. My headphones fall off and I notice for the first time a low, bassy buzzing sound. Damn you Michael Jackson! Your funky bass grooves entranced me to the point I didn't notice imminent danger! Looking in the direction my sudden propulsion seemed to be coming from, I saw what I can only describe as a giant floating metal orb, covered with varying lengths of spikes, and pulsing with some kind of bluish light. How the hell did I miss this before? Did it just arrive? Was it above the clouds? Did it make the clouds? Wherever it came from, I saw several of the spikes on the bottom side grow to incredible length, dart out with amazing speed for something so huge, dip down towards the ground, and contract again, apparently holding.. things. What happened to the things it grabbed I couldn't say, because I had just enough time to register this sight before I was being whisked by this umbilicus straight into the air, and towards the gigantic floating behemoth. While being dragged away, I had a moment to survey the landscape before me. Turns out all I did was walk past the bus stop. I was like three streets over and headed in the right direction. I could see the bus, however, and it was clear I wouldn't have made it anyway. It's probably a good thing, because I saw one of the umbilici pierce the bus through the windshield, lift it into the air, then began to shake erratically in an apparent effort to dislodge the bus. The effort paid off, and the bus went careening through the top floor of the Big Chief Motel. So I guess I got lucky.

I began to punch the metal bits that were wrapped around me. Those I could reach, anyway. The metal was surprisingly yielding, like punching a rubbermaid lid. My attack had no effect other than an unsatisfying "whunngg" sound, as though the umbilici were hollow. The metal was gunmetal grey, mostly smooth, but with intermittent notches where the metal separated completely, meaning the umbilicus was not a continuous piece of metal but a series of rings, each with the ability to change it's apparent size and mass, or at least stretch and work in concert to hold things. Namely me. The gaps between the rings pulsed with the same bluish light as the orb I was hurtling towards. It was close now, and it was far bigger than I had previously thought. From nearer to the ground, it looked about three times the size of a large football stadium. Now that I was nearer and could see it against the backdrop of the mountains, I realized it had to be ten times that. Massive doesn't even begin to describe it. I was considering this when suddenly, the umbilicus around me grew taut, it's grip around me tightened to the point where it was almost crushing, and in an instant, I was hurtling towards the orb at an insane speed! Tears streamed sideways out of my eyes and into my hair from the sheer force of wind and cold suddenly blasting into my eyes. It wasn't the first time today I lamented leaving my bed. At least now I wasn't worried about work. Frankly, my dear, fuck 'em at this point. I clenched my eyes tight.. as much as I wanted to see what the hell the orb was, if it was going to kill me, if it was living or mechanical, or just what the hell it is PERIOD, I just couldn't keep my eyes open any longer. I could feel the icy tear tracks up my temples and into my sideburns, the biting wind ripping through my hair and blasting through my winter coat like it was made of screening. The realization that my hat is now long-gone. I try to open my eyes again and am barely able to discern the greyish white of the sky before everything is completely blacked out by the shadow of this gunmetal leviathan. Two seconds later... nothing.

And by nothing, I mean that. Nothing. Once the sky was blacked out for me, the bassy buzz I heard before suddenly rose to a crescendo, filling my senses with this unearthly, vibrating, deep bass hum, making my entire body vibrate until it felt like nothing.. and then.. nothing. All I see around me is blackness. There is a floor here, but I can't see it. Holding my face next to it, it's not discernible from the area around me. I can see myself just fine, like I'm under fluorescent light but I can make out no shapes in the apparently infinite shadow around me. I can walk and move freely, but I do not have the sensation of movement when I walk. It's like being suspended by a rope and moving your arms and legs in a walking motion, but not actually moving. After what felt like a few hours but was probably only ten minutes, I sat down and pulled out my phone. What else am I going to do? I'm surrounded by apparently infinite blackness, I just got ripped out of my life by a metallic tentacle taking me God knows where, and I have nothing to do. I have no bars, but somehow I see wifi hotspots popping up on my phone here and there. That's when I had the idea to type this out. I type for a while, check for an open hotspot, then go back to typing. When I see a hotspot I can jump on to, I will post this in the hopes that.. I dunno.. maybe one of you can find me? Maybe someone else knows what's going on? I don't know what I'm going to do now that I'm here, but at least I can send out this post, message-in-a-bottle style, and if nothing else, someday someone will learn my fate. Assuming there's still someone out there to read it.

Also, I'm getting hungry. This sucks.

Hello world, it's been a while!
G-Man's Head!
Good lord, but it has been a while, hasn't it?

I've been in a writing mood lately, and although I like posting interesting stuff on Facebook, it's really not designed for extended stretches of writing. Sometimes, sure, I'll write a poetic sentence, expand upon it, revise it, make it more fun to read with playful word selection, and before I know it I have a four-paragraph essay that is bringing tears to the eyes of my loved ones when all I meant to say was "snow is purty." Still, it's a limiting format because, well, Facebook statuses are meant to be short, dammit! It's like twitter without all the twits twatting all the time. Sure, there's not a 120-character limit, but come on, if you're on Facebook all the time, you know what your friends' attention spans are like!

So with that thought in mind, I'm reopening my Livejournal, and fully intend to use it as a platform for voicing my thoughts once again! I considered just creating a new one.. You know, it's been several years since I last used this site regularly, and I created this thing when I was fresh out of high school, so it's riddled with drama, immaturity, broken dreams, and the reactive softness I had before I faced true pain and hardship in my life. The last time I updated this thing, the worst thing to ever happen to me was to have my heart broken by the one girl I've ever truly loved. Since then I've watched my mother die, faced legal troubles, moved across the country, and have experienced the rise and fall of a number of relationships. I've experienced true loss, true hardship, and I'm still here! I'm still soldiering on! I'm still able to smile and face the day, and these are things that, the last time I was on this site, I didn't know I was capable of surviving. It's kind of embarrassing to look back over my thoughts in those days and see just how much I cared about so much that mattered so little in the long run. Obsessing over girls and idle flights of fancy.. participating in the drama.. it's all stuff I've more or less grown out of. I now obsess over women, but don't put them on a pedestal because they're human too (and believe me, their shit stinks). I don't participate in drama unless it's brought to my doorstep, and even then I have gained the ability to defuse most dramatic situations with a few well-chosen words and a distinct air of not giving a fuck. The previous posts indicate a person who blew his money by eating out all the time. The posts from here on out will indicate a person who is annoyed with his previous self for not cooking all the time, thus saving money and ensuring that today I am a wealthy man. I am at present not a wealthy man. That's why I've gotten good at making beans.

Basically my point is this, I am vastly different from how I was, but who I was is still a part of me. For every niggling complaint I have about younger me's character, I have several more thoughts of "Man, I wish I was still like that," or "Wow, what happened to my outlook on life?" From a dramatic but overwhelming optimist who thought he was jaded to a drama-avoiding realist who is trying not to be jaded.. it's a shift, but I'm still at both ends of it. I'm leaving my old posts intact because there's some spark of spirit and life that I had back then, and I desperately want it to be rekindled. I'm not saying that I'm some old fuddy-duddy now, but there is definitely a certain je ne sais quoi I had that I've only recently been rediscovering, and if I opt to not ignore how I used to be, maybe I can get in touch with that part of myself again. It's a healing process, dammit!

So to those of you who are new to me blogging, welcome! I talk a lot more here. And to those of you who are old hands at reading my crap, welcome back! I don't think we ever lost touch completely, but I'm sure it's been difficult for the past few years, suffering from a deficiency of vitamin J. Well, brace yourself because I'm here to administer regular booster shots of awesomeness, and immunizations against the suck. And if I turn out to be mistaken and just forget about posting here again, then at least you'll have this post to keep you warm until the next time the writing bug strikes. I've been wanting a creative outlet lately, though, so I don't think you'll have to worry about me falling silent any time soon.

Until next time, crimestoppers!

(no subject)
Spider's Trash
You ever have one of those days where you feel like disemboweling everyone you see with a shard of broken glass?

You ever have several days like that all in a row?

How long will it be before my dark passenger motivates me to act out these fantasies?

Place your bets...

Whoa! An update!
Spider's Trash
Man, it's been a while since I've done this.. how're things with you, good? Good. Well then, let's get started.

These past few months have been some of the most interesting months in my life. For starters, I'm in a relationship now! Like, a relationship relationship! With an actual woman! Her name is Dolores, and she's as awesome as awesome can be. One of the few people on this planet who actually gets me, we started dating a little over three months ago, shattering my previous relationship record by 50%, and the spread is only going to widen from here!

I'm glad to finally see what all the fuss is about. There really is nothing like having a genuine connection with someone. Our interests are similar enough that we have plenty to talk about and can relate to eachother on, but different enough that things stay fresh and we're constantly learning new things about eachother. She's smart, funny, beautiful, cool, she's a gamer, likes the internet, and friggin' loves my ass.

That's ass as in my whole being, although I don't think she has any complaints about my ass, either.

I met her initially through DJ, my #2 over the past few years and her brother. I had a high level of anticipation in going to meet her, as the majority of what was told to me regarding her was "You're going to love her, man, I really hope you guys hook up!" Thos of you who know me know that this is the exact sort of thing to turn me off of a person even before I meet them. I don't like presumptions, and when people tell me things like that, I'm basically guaranteed not to like the person in question at all.

Still, we met, and I did an internal fist-pump and thought "Yesssss!"

I played it cool enough, though, and she actually liked me. She was only vacationing down here at the time, but moved down three months later (pre-existing plan) and at that point, we hooked up.

Like I said, it's been great. She's introduced me to Sushi and the wonders of cheesy horror flicks, I've introduced her to Checker's fries and... umm... the glory that is me? Sorry, the words are failing me now. My mind's going faster than my hands are capable of going. I'm too sober!

Annnnnnnnnnyway... the past few weeks in particular have been busy. I'm going to cut out the gory details because frankly, it's none of your goddamn business. In short, though, I don't think DJ and I are friends anymore, Dolores no longer lives with him, and we're on the cusp of moving in together at our friends Danny and Kris's house. I'm really looking forward to it, both in the sense that I no longer have to drive 10 minutes out of my way to brush my teeth and change my clothes, and I'll be paying roughly 75% less in monthly expenses. I'm finally going to be able to be ahead of the curve, and that's fantastic.

Also, a note to all you naysayers, I'm 1 semester from completing my AA degree. Nothing compared to all of you who are in Grad School and beyond, but it's a personal milestone, and I'm proud of me, at least!

So what's next? Well, I'll naturally be finishing out my AA in the fall, but beyond that, who knows? I'm not going to be able to stay in this region for long after that point, since I'll need to find a school that has a decent bachelor's program in psychology, plus I have the needs of my lady to consider. I'm not worried, though. The universe tends to unfold as it will, and I'm good at figuring out where I'm supposed to be at the right time.

Work's good, too! Hopefully I'll be getting a raise next month.

That's about all I have the patience to write for now. Y'all niggas keep it real, aaaite?

It's not gross, honest!
you know..., There's a reason there's a banana in my
I have officially stumbled upon the single weirdest porn site on the internet. Well, the weirdest porn site not to feature anything that would make anyone's stomach turn. It's just.. well...

I really should let it speak for itself.

You probably shouldn't click there if boobs scare you.

For you bacon lovers out there!
Spider's Trash
I give you...


It sounds like the most yummylicious thing ever!