I'm all fired up and pissed off, this can make me smile.
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
jG
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Spoiler Alert....
In case you are looking for a laugh out loud or feel good post of the week, this is not the place to come. Right now I'm trying to figure out how, we as humans, have reached a point in time where we will trample someone to death to get a bargain on a product, that is a WANT and not a NEED. IF you have no idea what I'm talking about, check it out here.
Things, bling, stuff...we chase all of this stuff, myself included. However, I've never been at a point where I wanted something so bad, I said to myself, “I'm going to get the new Kelly Clarkson cd and I'm going to walk over any motherfucker who gets in my way, cause I deserve it and want to be the first person to put my hands on it.” In addition to getting caught up in the pursuit of meaningless minutia, I've also worked for the devil himself and know full well what Wal*Mart Stores are capable of. There will of course be the code of silence applied to all store personnel and I'm sure jobs will be threatened. Wal*Mart will also employ more spin than a pro-bowler to the media. Damour, the poor soul, trampled to death at the Valley Stream Wal*Mart, was first listed as a hire from a temporary agency, hired to do maintenance in the store.
Sounds plausible enough, he could have been there washing floors or performing other night shift, janitorial duties. Maybe he was actually fixing something like the door, that ultimately gave way and led to his demise? At any rate, one day after this tragic event, I'm reading stories trying to make it appear as if Damour could have possibly been employed as one of the hired, extra security staff. FUCK YOU WAL*MART and FUCK YOU CORPORATE AMERICA! More blood is on your hands and motherfuckers don't think that people are not watching. Let's not leave it up to the temp agency to insult Damour's family by sending them flowers. Wal*Mart should pay for all burial expenses and set up Damour's family for life. Will they? Probably not. There will be some lame excuse like, “the local authorities are looking into this to determine if there will be any criminal charges filed...” YOU BET YOUR SWEET REDNECK ARKANSAS ASS THERE WILL BE CHARGES. Charges of Criminal Negligence, among other things, but what's worse is when you have all the money in the world and an even better legal team, there is no way any of those charges will ever hold up in court.
Still feel good? Still smiling...ok. How about this one?
8 Year old who vowed his 100th spanking would be his last, kills dad.
Anyone see a problem with that? No, I'm not talking about the murder part. I'm talking about a case of criminal neglect, child abuse and a bunch of other things we are probably not privy to.
There is no reason an eight year old should have been spanked one thousand times. None. I'm sorry, you can tell me I don't know what it's like cause I don't have kids and you're right I don't, but I also have been a child and know what spanking is. In addition to that I work with abused children and see every fucking day, the emotional and psychological damage done to kids by parents who don't have any right applying for a library card, let alone having a child. Here's a quick parenting tip: Set expectations. Just like this poor boy did, “Hey the thousandth time you spank me, I'm going to kill you...” He let them know, he kept track, think those spankings didn't mean too much? Think again.
We're turning into a bunch of fucking savages...
I hope you all had a great holiday weekend and remembered what is important with those you love.
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
Things, bling, stuff...we chase all of this stuff, myself included. However, I've never been at a point where I wanted something so bad, I said to myself, “I'm going to get the new Kelly Clarkson cd and I'm going to walk over any motherfucker who gets in my way, cause I deserve it and want to be the first person to put my hands on it.” In addition to getting caught up in the pursuit of meaningless minutia, I've also worked for the devil himself and know full well what Wal*Mart Stores are capable of. There will of course be the code of silence applied to all store personnel and I'm sure jobs will be threatened. Wal*Mart will also employ more spin than a pro-bowler to the media. Damour, the poor soul, trampled to death at the Valley Stream Wal*Mart, was first listed as a hire from a temporary agency, hired to do maintenance in the store.
Sounds plausible enough, he could have been there washing floors or performing other night shift, janitorial duties. Maybe he was actually fixing something like the door, that ultimately gave way and led to his demise? At any rate, one day after this tragic event, I'm reading stories trying to make it appear as if Damour could have possibly been employed as one of the hired, extra security staff. FUCK YOU WAL*MART and FUCK YOU CORPORATE AMERICA! More blood is on your hands and motherfuckers don't think that people are not watching. Let's not leave it up to the temp agency to insult Damour's family by sending them flowers. Wal*Mart should pay for all burial expenses and set up Damour's family for life. Will they? Probably not. There will be some lame excuse like, “the local authorities are looking into this to determine if there will be any criminal charges filed...” YOU BET YOUR SWEET REDNECK ARKANSAS ASS THERE WILL BE CHARGES. Charges of Criminal Negligence, among other things, but what's worse is when you have all the money in the world and an even better legal team, there is no way any of those charges will ever hold up in court.
Still feel good? Still smiling...ok. How about this one?
8 Year old who vowed his 100th spanking would be his last, kills dad.
Anyone see a problem with that? No, I'm not talking about the murder part. I'm talking about a case of criminal neglect, child abuse and a bunch of other things we are probably not privy to.
There is no reason an eight year old should have been spanked one thousand times. None. I'm sorry, you can tell me I don't know what it's like cause I don't have kids and you're right I don't, but I also have been a child and know what spanking is. In addition to that I work with abused children and see every fucking day, the emotional and psychological damage done to kids by parents who don't have any right applying for a library card, let alone having a child. Here's a quick parenting tip: Set expectations. Just like this poor boy did, “Hey the thousandth time you spank me, I'm going to kill you...” He let them know, he kept track, think those spankings didn't mean too much? Think again.
We're turning into a bunch of fucking savages...
I hope you all had a great holiday weekend and remembered what is important with those you love.
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Shocker...
went to bed at 4:20am this morning, insert corny stoner joke here...
watched Scarface for the first time ever and didn't know it was two hours and fifty minutes long. Enjoyed the movie but still am not convinced it's Pacino's best work. At any rate here are the things winding my clock.
Gas prices...
Has anyone noticed how gas used to be eleventy billion dollars a gallon and now here in the good old ocean state, you can drive to your local stop and shop and get it for about $1.89 a gallon? Shit, I thought I drove through a wormhole the other day and got transported back to 1999. How? When? WHY did gas prices start to drop?
Methinks this is the calm before the storm...
There has been some rumbling about a plan. One that would free the U.S. from dependence on foreign oil and one that could both create jobs in America and help put cleaner running, more fuel-efficient cars on the road. Where is said plan coming from? From Texas of course! Read all about it right here. While people marvel over the idea that gas prices could fall back down to almost reasonable rates, they forget that the surge in non-natural gas prices will continue. Moreover the addition of these new cars will encourage the gas companies to hump us for as long as possible. Pickens predicts gas being $5/gallon as early as next summer... HOLY JUMPING CHRIST!!! Time for this guy to buy a moped.
Down with the King...
Thanks to Ktech for this update on our favorite fast food royal.
Burger King to go high-end...
Ok, let's be honest, when we think fast food, we're in a rush, are caught up in the tornado of stress eating or it's 2:30 / 9:30 in the morning and you've tried to drink like you're in college again and needs the grease to keep from being D.O.A from a hangover...
but really do the clown, the king or that little red-headed slut ever evoke an image of a high-er end food experience? Maybe so, but only after about 6 hours of mario-kart and countless bong rips...
For Burger King to think they will pull business away from the casual restaurant, and I'm assuming they mean the, Chili's, TGIFridays, Ground Rounds, Perkins of the country versus other fast food shits... is sheer lunacy.
Ribs? Are you kidding me? Look at a competitors business model. Rockdonald's only brings out the McRib once a year at MOST cause it give the general public time to forget how shitty it actually is! Ribs...King please! Thick-er burgers... Shit, I got roped into the angus-steakhouse-porkpackge-whatever-you-want-to-call-it burger once...ONCE! Supposedly, the higher grade meat contributes to a better tasting burger.
Hmmm...maybe this is true back in soviet russia, cause the steakhouse burger I got tasted like someone kicked the asshole out of an out-to-pasture stud horse and then put it on some high-falutin' bullshit roll versus the sesame seeded bun we've come to love and be addicted to. Long story short, having to retool your restaurants with equipment to allow the cooking of ribs and thick-er burgers in this economy is just tomfoolery...plain and simple. Fear not as the dollar menu is not going anywhere. This is a god-send cause I know when my ass is in a knot, nothin' fixes it quicker than a rodeo cheeseburger or two and a diet coke.
Finally...
Pat riots on the Pat-riots
Tom Brady, easy on the eyes, seems to be a nice guy, heck of a quarterback, sold his sole to the devil to go 19-0....ooops went to the well one to many times.
Senior Touchdown is getting bent over by the gossip rags and websites for being seen “walking unaided” around town with Gisele. Am I a life long New Englander, yes. Am I a Patriots fan, yes. Do I think Tom may not be taking his injury and rehab as seriously as he should be...maybe yes, maybe no, but let's not forget some stuff. I can go to work everyday of the week and chances are I can screw up. If I do, no big deal, learn from it and move on. When I leave there is not a press corps waiting to interview me on how bad I feel about blowing it for the team and the scores of fans. Next, even though work can sometimes get pretty hairy, there are not people trying to kill me every weekend, nor are there bounties placed on my head by my coworkers. Let's face it being a QB in the NFL can be the sweetest job, in Brady's case or the worst job, where ultimately you wind up getting in about 5-10 car accidents in one day. Yes, it's a game and these men on their pedestals get millions of dollars to play a game but how much lifelong physical and mental damage can we put a price on?
Now I know some may say well Tom is out screwing around and not rehabing or supporting the team. Fair enough, but when you're thinking that, just remember the days you've called out “sick” or just needed a mental health day and then think about the pressure on Brady. Fact of the matter is if I had the resources and lawyers Tom did, no camera-toting jackass would speak to me like that...ever.
Let's drink till we can't feel feelings.
Yours in Pawtucket,
--Pawtucket Pat
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
watched Scarface for the first time ever and didn't know it was two hours and fifty minutes long. Enjoyed the movie but still am not convinced it's Pacino's best work. At any rate here are the things winding my clock.
Gas prices...
Has anyone noticed how gas used to be eleventy billion dollars a gallon and now here in the good old ocean state, you can drive to your local stop and shop and get it for about $1.89 a gallon? Shit, I thought I drove through a wormhole the other day and got transported back to 1999. How? When? WHY did gas prices start to drop?
Methinks this is the calm before the storm...
There has been some rumbling about a plan. One that would free the U.S. from dependence on foreign oil and one that could both create jobs in America and help put cleaner running, more fuel-efficient cars on the road. Where is said plan coming from? From Texas of course! Read all about it right here. While people marvel over the idea that gas prices could fall back down to almost reasonable rates, they forget that the surge in non-natural gas prices will continue. Moreover the addition of these new cars will encourage the gas companies to hump us for as long as possible. Pickens predicts gas being $5/gallon as early as next summer... HOLY JUMPING CHRIST!!! Time for this guy to buy a moped.
Down with the King...
Thanks to Ktech for this update on our favorite fast food royal.
Burger King to go high-end...
Ok, let's be honest, when we think fast food, we're in a rush, are caught up in the tornado of stress eating or it's 2:30 / 9:30 in the morning and you've tried to drink like you're in college again and needs the grease to keep from being D.O.A from a hangover...
but really do the clown, the king or that little red-headed slut ever evoke an image of a high-er end food experience? Maybe so, but only after about 6 hours of mario-kart and countless bong rips...
For Burger King to think they will pull business away from the casual restaurant, and I'm assuming they mean the, Chili's, TGIFridays, Ground Rounds, Perkins of the country versus other fast food shits... is sheer lunacy.
Ribs? Are you kidding me? Look at a competitors business model. Rockdonald's only brings out the McRib once a year at MOST cause it give the general public time to forget how shitty it actually is! Ribs...King please! Thick-er burgers... Shit, I got roped into the angus-steakhouse-porkpackge-whatever-you-want-to-call-it burger once...ONCE! Supposedly, the higher grade meat contributes to a better tasting burger.
Hmmm...maybe this is true back in soviet russia, cause the steakhouse burger I got tasted like someone kicked the asshole out of an out-to-pasture stud horse and then put it on some high-falutin' bullshit roll versus the sesame seeded bun we've come to love and be addicted to. Long story short, having to retool your restaurants with equipment to allow the cooking of ribs and thick-er burgers in this economy is just tomfoolery...plain and simple. Fear not as the dollar menu is not going anywhere. This is a god-send cause I know when my ass is in a knot, nothin' fixes it quicker than a rodeo cheeseburger or two and a diet coke.
Finally...
Pat riots on the Pat-riots
Tom Brady, easy on the eyes, seems to be a nice guy, heck of a quarterback, sold his sole to the devil to go 19-0....ooops went to the well one to many times.
Senior Touchdown is getting bent over by the gossip rags and websites for being seen “walking unaided” around town with Gisele. Am I a life long New Englander, yes. Am I a Patriots fan, yes. Do I think Tom may not be taking his injury and rehab as seriously as he should be...maybe yes, maybe no, but let's not forget some stuff. I can go to work everyday of the week and chances are I can screw up. If I do, no big deal, learn from it and move on. When I leave there is not a press corps waiting to interview me on how bad I feel about blowing it for the team and the scores of fans. Next, even though work can sometimes get pretty hairy, there are not people trying to kill me every weekend, nor are there bounties placed on my head by my coworkers. Let's face it being a QB in the NFL can be the sweetest job, in Brady's case or the worst job, where ultimately you wind up getting in about 5-10 car accidents in one day. Yes, it's a game and these men on their pedestals get millions of dollars to play a game but how much lifelong physical and mental damage can we put a price on?
Now I know some may say well Tom is out screwing around and not rehabing or supporting the team. Fair enough, but when you're thinking that, just remember the days you've called out “sick” or just needed a mental health day and then think about the pressure on Brady. Fact of the matter is if I had the resources and lawyers Tom did, no camera-toting jackass would speak to me like that...ever.
Let's drink till we can't feel feelings.
Yours in Pawtucket,
--Pawtucket Pat
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
Monday, November 17, 2008
Beginning of a tough weekend...
even though by the time you read this, it will already be Monday.
Friday had the potential to totally suck rocks but gratefully it got better. Started off having to wake at 0'Dark:30 because the furnace man was coming to work in the rental unit. Yours truly needed to be awake to let him in. So I was, a half hour before he arrived. I thought a half hour was respectable enough for me to not look like I just rolled out of bed. However it was cold and my hoodie and pajama pants didn't help. I totally looked “go college.”
furnace man shows up and seems to be a decent enough guy, minimal small talk, gets right to work. As I am leading him down to the turn-of-the-century basement, mom calls my cell...
Yes, I'm up.
No, I'm up...really.
I'm not 19 anymore...I'm responsible.
He's right here next to me, want to talk to him?
Furnace guy: Can you go and turn the thermostat as high as it will go?
I'm on it.
No mom, that was the furnace guy.
What?
Bad news...go ahead.
and then she hit me with it...
My dog had passed on. Maybe passed on is not the right way to describe it, cause my dad had to put him down. But mom said, “we lost Buster...” as if he was misplaced. For a moment, I really hoped he had ran out of the house and was on the lamb, but deep down I knew what she meant. A 14 year-old bassett hound does not run away from a fireplace, two hots a day and probably as many walks, especially not when he has someone who loves him as much as my dad did.
There was more small talk between my mother and I, not that I can recall what was said, but, we exchanged good byes. I hung up and for a second sat down and just wished the fucking furnace man could be done. I wanted a few seconds alone. Maybe not to wail and gnash my teeth but, if I did want to do that, it would be ok.
he came upstairs about 15 minutes later, handed me a bill and then started with the small talk again. Asking if, “I had grown up in this area?” I told him he had and he name dropped some names on me. Names from my childhood and early adolescents. Names of kids who used to beat the shit out of me and torment me just for fun. Three brothers, two legit, one adopted, all mostly assholes. One is a cop, the other owns his own landscaping business and the third..well he just looks like a full-time prick. Driving around in his Mercedes convertible, trying to not let his thinning hair and bald spot show.
I didn't regale furnace man with tales of times gone by. I wanted him to go so I could be alone and start my day. He left. I took some time to think about my dog. I cried. I'm not above admitting it. There are certain bonds when created it takes a death to end them. My bond with Buster was good but not as strong as his bond with my father. For whatever reason my parents don't really associate with a whole lot of people. Not to say they're shut-ins or snobs but they still work a great deal and volunteer, so their free time is limited and often they just want alone time, much like myself.
My dad would get up every morning and go to the bathroom, take his pills and feed Buster. After Buster ate there was a quick walk and then dad and Buster would hop in the car. They would drive off the island to Tim Horton's where my dad would get a coffee and donut combo. The coffee for my dad, the donut for Buster. From what both my parents tell me, Buster was quite a hit at the drive-thru and usually he was salivating just waiting to pull into the window.
My dad grew up an only child, in a cold house, not to say he was not loved, but communication was not a strong suit of either my paternal grandparents. Grandad ha seen some shit in WWII and afterward, worked for the FBI for a short time. My grandmother, armed with a high school education, worked as a nurse for about a hundred years. After retiring, she donated about two thousand gallons of blood and did hospice visits or something or other. My dad had a good child hood, like me he was a fat kid, but I'm sure he wanted for nothing. He grew up with three or four great friends, two of which he is still in contact with and occasionally sees. Buster however, was a constant. Always around, always looking to see what my dad was up to...where he was going...and if there might be a treat involved.
The last two dogs my family has had have been bassetts. Rosebud, Busters predecessor, died early, we think she ate some rat poison and hemorrhaged to death cause our local vet was, “too busy” to take her. Buster on the other hand lived to be fourteen and had been in declining health. My dad was away at a conference when Rosebud died. I think he felt some sense of responsibility, I'm not sure why.
Dad was the only one around when the vet found a softball sized tumor on Buster's spleen. Mom told me that he called her at work, she has been working at the school she retired from just to pick up some extra money. “Wait...wait..wait..let me be there with you, “ she told me she told my father over the phone. He told her, “not to worry, that he could do this and not to bother leaving work.” He was the only one around when he made the decision. He was the only one around when his best friend was put to sleep.
Even now, there is a part of me that wants to know what was going through his head at that point. Not because I want him to relive a major tragedy in his life, but to gain from his experience. My dad has always been the greatest example of strength to me and I'm sure he felt anything but strong at that point. Part of me wants to give him a big hug and let him know he provided a wonderful life for Buster and that dog could not have asked for better owners and friends than my parents. But I won't say anything because I know how hard it is for him to express his feelings and even though I know it's cathartic for some, I think my dad is better left alone.
I finish this post tired and teary-eyed at the loss of a great friend and wonderful pet. I've been trying to take comfort in the fact that like the movie says, “All Dogs Go to Heaven.” I want to believe that. It is my firm hope and b
elief Buster has crossed the Rainbow Bridge without issue and is playing with all of his new found friends.
Rest In Peace Buster, we will miss you very much!
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
Friday had the potential to totally suck rocks but gratefully it got better. Started off having to wake at 0'Dark:30 because the furnace man was coming to work in the rental unit. Yours truly needed to be awake to let him in. So I was, a half hour before he arrived. I thought a half hour was respectable enough for me to not look like I just rolled out of bed. However it was cold and my hoodie and pajama pants didn't help. I totally looked “go college.”
furnace man shows up and seems to be a decent enough guy, minimal small talk, gets right to work. As I am leading him down to the turn-of-the-century basement, mom calls my cell...
Yes, I'm up.
No, I'm up...really.
I'm not 19 anymore...I'm responsible.
He's right here next to me, want to talk to him?
Furnace guy: Can you go and turn the thermostat as high as it will go?
I'm on it.
No mom, that was the furnace guy.
What?
Bad news...go ahead.
and then she hit me with it...
My dog had passed on. Maybe passed on is not the right way to describe it, cause my dad had to put him down. But mom said, “we lost Buster...” as if he was misplaced. For a moment, I really hoped he had ran out of the house and was on the lamb, but deep down I knew what she meant. A 14 year-old bassett hound does not run away from a fireplace, two hots a day and probably as many walks, especially not when he has someone who loves him as much as my dad did.
There was more small talk between my mother and I, not that I can recall what was said, but, we exchanged good byes. I hung up and for a second sat down and just wished the fucking furnace man could be done. I wanted a few seconds alone. Maybe not to wail and gnash my teeth but, if I did want to do that, it would be ok.
he came upstairs about 15 minutes later, handed me a bill and then started with the small talk again. Asking if, “I had grown up in this area?” I told him he had and he name dropped some names on me. Names from my childhood and early adolescents. Names of kids who used to beat the shit out of me and torment me just for fun. Three brothers, two legit, one adopted, all mostly assholes. One is a cop, the other owns his own landscaping business and the third..well he just looks like a full-time prick. Driving around in his Mercedes convertible, trying to not let his thinning hair and bald spot show.
I didn't regale furnace man with tales of times gone by. I wanted him to go so I could be alone and start my day. He left. I took some time to think about my dog. I cried. I'm not above admitting it. There are certain bonds when created it takes a death to end them. My bond with Buster was good but not as strong as his bond with my father. For whatever reason my parents don't really associate with a whole lot of people. Not to say they're shut-ins or snobs but they still work a great deal and volunteer, so their free time is limited and often they just want alone time, much like myself.
My dad would get up every morning and go to the bathroom, take his pills and feed Buster. After Buster ate there was a quick walk and then dad and Buster would hop in the car. They would drive off the island to Tim Horton's where my dad would get a coffee and donut combo. The coffee for my dad, the donut for Buster. From what both my parents tell me, Buster was quite a hit at the drive-thru and usually he was salivating just waiting to pull into the window.
My dad grew up an only child, in a cold house, not to say he was not loved, but communication was not a strong suit of either my paternal grandparents. Grandad ha seen some shit in WWII and afterward, worked for the FBI for a short time. My grandmother, armed with a high school education, worked as a nurse for about a hundred years. After retiring, she donated about two thousand gallons of blood and did hospice visits or something or other. My dad had a good child hood, like me he was a fat kid, but I'm sure he wanted for nothing. He grew up with three or four great friends, two of which he is still in contact with and occasionally sees. Buster however, was a constant. Always around, always looking to see what my dad was up to...where he was going...and if there might be a treat involved.
The last two dogs my family has had have been bassetts. Rosebud, Busters predecessor, died early, we think she ate some rat poison and hemorrhaged to death cause our local vet was, “too busy” to take her. Buster on the other hand lived to be fourteen and had been in declining health. My dad was away at a conference when Rosebud died. I think he felt some sense of responsibility, I'm not sure why.
Dad was the only one around when the vet found a softball sized tumor on Buster's spleen. Mom told me that he called her at work, she has been working at the school she retired from just to pick up some extra money. “Wait...wait..wait..let me be there with you, “ she told me she told my father over the phone. He told her, “not to worry, that he could do this and not to bother leaving work.” He was the only one around when he made the decision. He was the only one around when his best friend was put to sleep.
Even now, there is a part of me that wants to know what was going through his head at that point. Not because I want him to relive a major tragedy in his life, but to gain from his experience. My dad has always been the greatest example of strength to me and I'm sure he felt anything but strong at that point. Part of me wants to give him a big hug and let him know he provided a wonderful life for Buster and that dog could not have asked for better owners and friends than my parents. But I won't say anything because I know how hard it is for him to express his feelings and even though I know it's cathartic for some, I think my dad is better left alone.
I finish this post tired and teary-eyed at the loss of a great friend and wonderful pet. I've been trying to take comfort in the fact that like the movie says, “All Dogs Go to Heaven.” I want to believe that. It is my firm hope and b
elief Buster has crossed the Rainbow Bridge without issue and is playing with all of his new found friends. Rest In Peace Buster, we will miss you very much!
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Checking in...
I was hungry, I mean like really hungry. The kind of hungry where you wake up and you immediately know you've contracted the worst case of food poisoning ever or that you need to eat with in 15 minutes, or the hurling will be legendary.
So off to Stop&Shop I go. Bagel, butter, two bottles of peach flavored water.
back home.
scrambled eggs (2) some shredded cheddar and some Cholula. (If you haven't tried it and you like hot sauce, get on it)
toasted bagel, big...BIG cup of coffee
now I wait for everything to fill the void.
sitting here banging away on the keyboard seems so foreign. Like, I almost have a sense of guilt in having not written for so long.
Not just not written here, but written anything.
I remember when fall was a time where my writing flowed like sands through the hourglass.
when my thoughts and images were sharp and clear like Waterford crystal and my only limitation was how fast I could type.
the novelty has not worn off but its not as shiny and inviting as the other toys on the playroom floor
sleep
school work
reading the blogs of others...jealous
blog envy
what the fuck
how stupid is that
how lame and Gen Y is that
Not jealous of hits
or
comments
or
pro bloggers
or even
A-listers
but of their ability to bang it out
everyday
without
fail
or hesitation
nonstop
regardless of the obstacles
Of all the things I envy consistency the most
true grit
determination
not phoning it in
Cup check time...
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
So off to Stop&Shop I go. Bagel, butter, two bottles of peach flavored water.
back home.
scrambled eggs (2) some shredded cheddar and some Cholula. (If you haven't tried it and you like hot sauce, get on it)
toasted bagel, big...BIG cup of coffee
now I wait for everything to fill the void.
sitting here banging away on the keyboard seems so foreign. Like, I almost have a sense of guilt in having not written for so long.
Not just not written here, but written anything.
I remember when fall was a time where my writing flowed like sands through the hourglass.
when my thoughts and images were sharp and clear like Waterford crystal and my only limitation was how fast I could type.
the novelty has not worn off but its not as shiny and inviting as the other toys on the playroom floor
sleep
school work
reading the blogs of others...jealous
blog envy
what the fuck
how stupid is that
how lame and Gen Y is that
Not jealous of hits
or
comments
or
pro bloggers
or even
A-listers
but of their ability to bang it out
everyday
without
fail
or hesitation
nonstop
regardless of the obstacles
Of all the things I envy consistency the most
true grit
determination
not phoning it in
Cup check time...
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
Monday, September 01, 2008
Final Countdown...
No doubt we've all been following the coverage of the upcoming election. If not, what the hell could possibly be more important? The fact the fate of our country, the UNITED States of America lies in the next election can not be ignored. The title United States no longer works as a name for the land we all love so much. Never have I seen so many people divided by class, race, religion, sex, economic background, education, sexual preference and the list goes on and on. Where is the breaking point? How much more failure can we endure before the nation as a whole crumbles?
Our only hope, yours and mine lies in change and that change is to vote OBAMA / BIDEN in November.
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
Our only hope, yours and mine lies in change and that change is to vote OBAMA / BIDEN in November.
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
Monday, August 25, 2008
New School / Olde School
Ahhh!!! Procrastination will be the fucking death of me!
So much to do this week, I might freak out. It's going to be interesting. Most of what is on the “to do list” is top secret, lucky for you, blogging(?) is not on the, “to do list.”
Last night I did go and witness the rebirth of the rock. Old friends' new band played at The Living Room and I'm happy to report that it's still the filthiest fucking club in the known universe. Those of you whom I went to college with, who witnessed the filth that was the floor of Jake's/Bangers/whateveritwascalledafter2000, this place makes that look like a hospital. Anywho, new band went on at 8:30, which was great for my old man ass. I can't be raging and rocking into the wee hours of the morning any more, not and hope to be any sort of productive at least.
Show was good, music is not quite my cup of tea, a little dirty 70's rock. Stuff I wasn't into a bazillion years ago, but I have to say that it was one of the most solid performances and best sounding sets I've ever heard in that dump. The headliner...Overcast, was a band I used to really, really dig in the early ninety's. The played the type of hardcore that was just brutal and Overcast came to be a staple of the New England Hardcore Scene. How they were repeatedly passed over by indie metal labels, I have no idea. I would have love to have stayed and been aurally abused by Overcast, but recent illnesses, my hunger and a few other things told me to go home. As I sit here and write this post, I'm listening to Reborn to Kill Again, a re-recording of all old Overcast songs, by Overcast. I have to tell you, I'm kicking myself in the ass for not finishing the gig last night.
However, there are just some places you don't even want to be confronted with having to take a shit.
23 Rathbone Street
Providence, RI 02903
happens to be one of those places.
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
So much to do this week, I might freak out. It's going to be interesting. Most of what is on the “to do list” is top secret, lucky for you, blogging(?) is not on the, “to do list.”
Last night I did go and witness the rebirth of the rock. Old friends' new band played at The Living Room and I'm happy to report that it's still the filthiest fucking club in the known universe. Those of you whom I went to college with, who witnessed the filth that was the floor of Jake's/Bangers/whateveritwascalledafter2000, this place makes that look like a hospital. Anywho, new band went on at 8:30, which was great for my old man ass. I can't be raging and rocking into the wee hours of the morning any more, not and hope to be any sort of productive at least.
Show was good, music is not quite my cup of tea, a little dirty 70's rock. Stuff I wasn't into a bazillion years ago, but I have to say that it was one of the most solid performances and best sounding sets I've ever heard in that dump. The headliner...Overcast, was a band I used to really, really dig in the early ninety's. The played the type of hardcore that was just brutal and Overcast came to be a staple of the New England Hardcore Scene. How they were repeatedly passed over by indie metal labels, I have no idea. I would have love to have stayed and been aurally abused by Overcast, but recent illnesses, my hunger and a few other things told me to go home. As I sit here and write this post, I'm listening to Reborn to Kill Again, a re-recording of all old Overcast songs, by Overcast. I have to tell you, I'm kicking myself in the ass for not finishing the gig last night.
However, there are just some places you don't even want to be confronted with having to take a shit.
23 Rathbone Street
Providence, RI 02903
happens to be one of those places.
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
Saturday, August 23, 2008
What?!?!
I'm a man of reasonable patience but shit is getting crazy yo...
I waited in line for gas for 45 minutes...eff that!
today I went to the Stop&Shop you know, cause it's the grocery store near my house, that also sells gasoline, and they have this cool rewards program, hooked up to the little card you scan every time you shop. Something to the effect of, spend x amount of dollars get y cents off of a gallon of gas. Not only does this give me incentive to shop more...to earn more $$$ off of gas, but it gives me an incentive to buy better, more expensive food, thus eating better.
...not that I live on koolade and moon pies mind you, but I have been known to still rock the ramen noodles, even as a grown adult. Eating ramen kind of makes me mad, cause I made a promise to myself that I would never eat it again, after college. However, the summer that I worked on the landscaping crew at school, and essentially lived on ramen, was one of the best summers ever. Not cause of the ramen mind you, but the camaraderie of a bunch of misfits doing back breaking manual labor, for pennies an hour, and we still felt like we had the best jobs in the world. Yeah, there was a fuck-load of shit to get done everyday and the heat and humidity were often lunacy but it was still just sheer awesomeness.
Wake up usually around 5:50 am to roll into the clothes you wore yesterday to get to the maintanence dept for 6:00
punch in
wait for bosses to show up at 7:00
some would sleep more
some would chat it up
I would eat my “breakfast ramen” dry, no seasoning, like raw spaghetti...
mmm...delicious
Boss man and sidekick would show at 7:00
both bleary-eyed from a long night of drinking
much like the rest of us
give us shit for not working yet
when all the equipment was under their locks and keys
decent size team
two trimmers
two mowers
two ride ons
and the flower bed girls
7:30 and the humidty already ridiculous
ramen gone
four cups of water down
half a mile of grass cut already
seven hours of work left
on to next job
Yon's field, Yon's the Bro's house
passed the first bowl to pass the time
mow and trim and mow and trim and mow and trim
water break
holy shit it's 10:15
coffee break consisting of one lunchable and either mountain dew or chocolate milk, depending on humidity
rush back to work, corn nuts rattling in a pocket
off to the president's house
but first, a stop at the pole barn
...another bowl
mow...trim...mow...trim...mow...trim...trim...mow
so effin' hot
five cups of ice water
corn nuts for the salt
guy from malaysia in a long sleeve rugby shirt and corduroys...laughing at all of us
12:00
If we had money, 5 minutes down the road for two ham'n'cheese samiches and the biggest mt dew ever
no cash, back to the dorm, ramen with water dumped out, no seasoning, either hot sauce/ketchup/hot mustard and a gallon of water
back to garage for 12:30, quick snooze under the trees
1PM let's hit 'er
no more grass to smoke but plenty to cut
ripping on one another during water breaks
raunchy jokes
butt-nut fights
wondering if it's possible to sweat anymore
no more corn nuts
finish with current job and hide out for half hour in a/c cooled building
someone always on watch for the boss
running out the back door, equipment primed and ready to go
back to sweat pouring and smelling like hard work and filthy ass
hour later back at the garage, packing it in, boss with dilly bars for all
stretch out the cramps and cool down
walk over to punch out
climb mt. olympus to go home shower and do it all again
in 12 hours
I waited in line for gas for 45 minutes...eff that!
today I went to the Stop&Shop you know, cause it's the grocery store near my house, that also sells gasoline, and they have this cool rewards program, hooked up to the little card you scan every time you shop. Something to the effect of, spend x amount of dollars get y cents off of a gallon of gas. Not only does this give me incentive to shop more...to earn more $$$ off of gas, but it gives me an incentive to buy better, more expensive food, thus eating better.
...not that I live on koolade and moon pies mind you, but I have been known to still rock the ramen noodles, even as a grown adult. Eating ramen kind of makes me mad, cause I made a promise to myself that I would never eat it again, after college. However, the summer that I worked on the landscaping crew at school, and essentially lived on ramen, was one of the best summers ever. Not cause of the ramen mind you, but the camaraderie of a bunch of misfits doing back breaking manual labor, for pennies an hour, and we still felt like we had the best jobs in the world. Yeah, there was a fuck-load of shit to get done everyday and the heat and humidity were often lunacy but it was still just sheer awesomeness.
Wake up usually around 5:50 am to roll into the clothes you wore yesterday to get to the maintanence dept for 6:00
punch in
wait for bosses to show up at 7:00
some would sleep more
some would chat it up
I would eat my “breakfast ramen” dry, no seasoning, like raw spaghetti...
mmm...delicious
Boss man and sidekick would show at 7:00
both bleary-eyed from a long night of drinking
much like the rest of us
give us shit for not working yet
when all the equipment was under their locks and keys
decent size team
two trimmers
two mowers
two ride ons
and the flower bed girls
7:30 and the humidty already ridiculous
ramen gone
four cups of water down
half a mile of grass cut already
seven hours of work left
on to next job
Yon's field, Yon's the Bro's house
passed the first bowl to pass the time
mow and trim and mow and trim and mow and trim
water break
holy shit it's 10:15
coffee break consisting of one lunchable and either mountain dew or chocolate milk, depending on humidity
rush back to work, corn nuts rattling in a pocket
off to the president's house
but first, a stop at the pole barn
...another bowl
mow...trim...mow...trim...mow...trim...trim...mow
so effin' hot
five cups of ice water
corn nuts for the salt
guy from malaysia in a long sleeve rugby shirt and corduroys...laughing at all of us
12:00
If we had money, 5 minutes down the road for two ham'n'cheese samiches and the biggest mt dew ever
no cash, back to the dorm, ramen with water dumped out, no seasoning, either hot sauce/ketchup/hot mustard and a gallon of water
back to garage for 12:30, quick snooze under the trees
1PM let's hit 'er
no more grass to smoke but plenty to cut
ripping on one another during water breaks
raunchy jokes
butt-nut fights
wondering if it's possible to sweat anymore
no more corn nuts
finish with current job and hide out for half hour in a/c cooled building
someone always on watch for the boss
running out the back door, equipment primed and ready to go
back to sweat pouring and smelling like hard work and filthy ass
hour later back at the garage, packing it in, boss with dilly bars for all
stretch out the cramps and cool down
walk over to punch out
climb mt. olympus to go home shower and do it all again
in 12 hours
Sunday, August 17, 2008
So bitter right now...
There's been a whole lot of thinking going on and not a whole lot of writing. I'm not wasting time with an apology cause for one, I'm not really sorry and two, what's the point? If people were really interested with what is going on, the emails, calls and such would have been coming in. Here again this is not me looking for sympathy, empathy or anything ending in athy, it's just one guy speaking his mind on his feelings.
Back to the aforementioned thinking...
damn, you know you have a lot on your mind when if you don't keep yourself busy, you start to think in monologues, soliloquies or asides. Usually when this happens, I take it as a sign to start blogging but what if I really don't have anything to say? Then my incessant rambling becomes nothing more than, “today I got up and had some breakfast...” So what? Most people do both of those things, wake up and or at some point during the day, eat something. Just because it may not be morning, does not mean you can't call your first meal of the day breakfast.
This is all going to seem disjointed and purposeless but I have to get it all out or I think I might scream. I fucking hate being responsible and having a great work ethic. Why? Because today is probably the best day of the summer and I'm going to spend inside a fucking stinky and filthy building at work. Today I am going to have to pretend like I give a shit about things I can neither control, nor change, instead of sit outside and read a book, go for a walk in the park or any of a million and a half things I would rather be doing than being at work. What's more annoying? I have not had more than three days off in a row ( I know this is not the norm and that we all only usually get 2 day weekends) in a fucking year. I have not asked to take vacation time even though I have a ton of it, and moreover I'm going to let that shit build until they either force me to take it or tell me I either have to take time out or sell some days back to the agency.
Not a cloud in the fucking sky mid to high 80's with a slight breeze. How do you get any better than that? The only way to make that better is to put my ass in a chair on a tropical beach, with an endless supply of diet soda and a stack of good books. I would be ok with not going to work today even if no one was around to hang out. Even if all I did was to sit in my back yard and read in the sun.
This leads into my next point. School.
Can I tell you how not amped I am to have the semester starting in like a week? Not very. The last thing I want to have to do is have all of my waking free time, with my nose in a text book or going over video tutorials or making flash cards. On top of all of that having to spend my other waking hours at a job that I'm torturing myself with school so I can get away from my place of employment, as soon as fucking possible, is not really high on my list of shit to do either. I don't do well when I'm sleep deprived. I mean I can function albeit barely but what's worse is I know that I'm busting my ass to get through nursing school so that I can stop working second shift, only to be an RN and have to start at the bottom and work either second or even third shift until I have paid my dues and a day shift slot opens up.
When the hell did the fun monster come and eat my life? I feel like I've done nothing and do nothing but work. I have not been to the beach once, nor driven down to my parents place because my fucking car will blow up and who has an extra $900 laying around, for repairs, when gas is eleventy billion dollars a gallon?
I'm looking forward to taking the week of Thanksgiving off and going to NYC to see some old friends from school. What's going to be funny is when people bitch and complain about me getting to take a holiday off, after I have not taken more than one day off, and I have more seniority then almost everyone else (barring two guys who have 5 years more time in than me) on my unit. You know what? Go fuck yourself and cry about it to someone who gives a shit, I'm done.
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
Back to the aforementioned thinking...
damn, you know you have a lot on your mind when if you don't keep yourself busy, you start to think in monologues, soliloquies or asides. Usually when this happens, I take it as a sign to start blogging but what if I really don't have anything to say? Then my incessant rambling becomes nothing more than, “today I got up and had some breakfast...” So what? Most people do both of those things, wake up and or at some point during the day, eat something. Just because it may not be morning, does not mean you can't call your first meal of the day breakfast.
This is all going to seem disjointed and purposeless but I have to get it all out or I think I might scream. I fucking hate being responsible and having a great work ethic. Why? Because today is probably the best day of the summer and I'm going to spend inside a fucking stinky and filthy building at work. Today I am going to have to pretend like I give a shit about things I can neither control, nor change, instead of sit outside and read a book, go for a walk in the park or any of a million and a half things I would rather be doing than being at work. What's more annoying? I have not had more than three days off in a row ( I know this is not the norm and that we all only usually get 2 day weekends) in a fucking year. I have not asked to take vacation time even though I have a ton of it, and moreover I'm going to let that shit build until they either force me to take it or tell me I either have to take time out or sell some days back to the agency.
Not a cloud in the fucking sky mid to high 80's with a slight breeze. How do you get any better than that? The only way to make that better is to put my ass in a chair on a tropical beach, with an endless supply of diet soda and a stack of good books. I would be ok with not going to work today even if no one was around to hang out. Even if all I did was to sit in my back yard and read in the sun.
This leads into my next point. School.
Can I tell you how not amped I am to have the semester starting in like a week? Not very. The last thing I want to have to do is have all of my waking free time, with my nose in a text book or going over video tutorials or making flash cards. On top of all of that having to spend my other waking hours at a job that I'm torturing myself with school so I can get away from my place of employment, as soon as fucking possible, is not really high on my list of shit to do either. I don't do well when I'm sleep deprived. I mean I can function albeit barely but what's worse is I know that I'm busting my ass to get through nursing school so that I can stop working second shift, only to be an RN and have to start at the bottom and work either second or even third shift until I have paid my dues and a day shift slot opens up.
When the hell did the fun monster come and eat my life? I feel like I've done nothing and do nothing but work. I have not been to the beach once, nor driven down to my parents place because my fucking car will blow up and who has an extra $900 laying around, for repairs, when gas is eleventy billion dollars a gallon?
I'm looking forward to taking the week of Thanksgiving off and going to NYC to see some old friends from school. What's going to be funny is when people bitch and complain about me getting to take a holiday off, after I have not taken more than one day off, and I have more seniority then almost everyone else (barring two guys who have 5 years more time in than me) on my unit. You know what? Go fuck yourself and cry about it to someone who gives a shit, I'm done.
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
Monday, July 28, 2008
Loser...
Not in my White House! I mean seriously, how much of a tool box can one be before the country just says, "NO"?
Why in the hell would anyone think that leaving kids in orphanages or in the custody of foster parents, (where honestly, they may or may not be in a less than pleasant living situation) is better than providing them with a loving home, albeit with two parents of the same sex?!?! Seems to me that good ol' Johnny Boy is more concerned with punishing the gay community and taking away their rights to be parents. In addition to this "enlightened" view, he also gets to make gay people, interested in adopting children, feel like second class citizens because, "same sex parenting goes against the moral fiber of this country."
Whatever...
So doesn't cheating on your wife or screwing male prostitutes in airport bathrooms, but that hasn't stopped some esteemed members of congress.
Give me a break.
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
Why in the hell would anyone think that leaving kids in orphanages or in the custody of foster parents, (where honestly, they may or may not be in a less than pleasant living situation) is better than providing them with a loving home, albeit with two parents of the same sex?!?! Seems to me that good ol' Johnny Boy is more concerned with punishing the gay community and taking away their rights to be parents. In addition to this "enlightened" view, he also gets to make gay people, interested in adopting children, feel like second class citizens because, "same sex parenting goes against the moral fiber of this country."
Whatever...
So doesn't cheating on your wife or screwing male prostitutes in airport bathrooms, but that hasn't stopped some esteemed members of congress.
Give me a break.
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
Where did you go?
Yeah, I know its been like 2+ weeks since I've posted. I've been dealing with medical this and that and hopefully getting back on the right track. Life with diabetes is never easy and more often than not, the littlest wrench in the works can really fuck things up.
However, my blood work shows that I'm not as fucked as I though I was and that yes, there is still hope for me. Hooray! I have to be doing better than Stanley Kobierowski. Way to put Rhode Island on the map! We only get attention for the negatives like this jackhole.
At any rate, my best to all of you and you can expect a return to regular posting in the very near future.
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
However, my blood work shows that I'm not as fucked as I though I was and that yes, there is still hope for me. Hooray! I have to be doing better than Stanley Kobierowski. Way to put Rhode Island on the map! We only get attention for the negatives like this jackhole.
At any rate, my best to all of you and you can expect a return to regular posting in the very near future.
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
Monday, July 14, 2008
Back to work...
Friday, after staying out till almost three on Thursday night seeing Hellboy II, I decided to take it easy and wake up...whenever.
I managed to make it up to my aunt and uncles for about twelve. They were just pulling in and we shot the breeze for awhile and then my uncle was headed back to the office.
his work is never done.
I walked inside and talked with my aunt for awhile, until she announced that she needed coffee and would I like some?
Hmm...lets see...it's eleventy billion degrees out and I've come to try and cool off and relax in the pool, hot coffee? No thanks.
My aunt, who is I think 60, described the temperature as, “walk in warm.” The pool was warm but maybe I'm just getting older, and my sensitivity to temperature is becoming more acute. It took me about five minutes before I was able to dive in and experience the crisp refreshing swim I had been missing for a couple of years. During our talk my aunt had mentioned global warming and how, earlier in the week, she had gone down to visit my parents and when she went in the ocean, it felt more like early August than early July. Nevertheless, I swam and floated around for about an hour and a half before I was all done. I dried off, sat for awhile and then packed to go home. My aunt, a voracious reader, gave me Joe Hills, “Heart Shaped Box.” A book I oddly enough learned about on myspace but still seemed interesting enough to read.
It's been a quiet but full weekend. After my swim, I drove home, ate a quick lunch and cracked the book. Two days later and I'm about 55% of the way through. It's basically a modern day ghost story with its own quirky references to current or recently current pop culture.
Last night was The Dropkick Murphy's and Mighty Might Bosstones at McCoy Stadium. The show overall was awesome but by 11pm I was done for the night or at least I thought I was. The Guy, Dubs and I left McCoy and received a call from El Capitan. El Capitan wanted to meet for beers and whiskeys at the dirty bar. After sitting out in the sun all afternoon, the last thing I needed was booze until closing time, but I was a good sport and after the Guy dropped us off, I accompanied Dubs to the bar to meet El Capitan and the missus. Two Heineken lights later and I could feel my head beginning to pound. When the hell was the last time I ate?
3 fried eggs and wheat toast at about 10 in the morning and since then, it's been nothing but beer and orbit gum...AWESOME
the bar closed and Dubs and I were starving, he also could not remember his last meal. There were options, most of them fast food or yuck truck related, but then like a beacon of hope, we remembered the CRUST. Golden Crust has probably the most delicious and reasonable eats around. Dubs got the world famous buffalo chicken pizza in large form. I ordered the 10 wing dinner and a small buffalo chicken pizza. 20 minutes later Dubs was splitting his pizza with his cat and I was watching Sin City and eating chicken wings. I finished the wings, but conked out way before the movie was over.
Woke up this AM, cleaned a little less than I would have liked to. Still tired from the show, took a nap and contemplated going for another swim. However, since it was Sunday and I was not working, I told my brother I would go to his softball game. Drove to Moonsocket, watched the game, came home and here I am.
Tomorrow I start with a new primary care physician, who I am sure is going to tell me, I'm too fat...don't eat anything...exercise more...AWESOME
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
I managed to make it up to my aunt and uncles for about twelve. They were just pulling in and we shot the breeze for awhile and then my uncle was headed back to the office.
his work is never done.
I walked inside and talked with my aunt for awhile, until she announced that she needed coffee and would I like some?
Hmm...lets see...it's eleventy billion degrees out and I've come to try and cool off and relax in the pool, hot coffee? No thanks.
My aunt, who is I think 60, described the temperature as, “walk in warm.” The pool was warm but maybe I'm just getting older, and my sensitivity to temperature is becoming more acute. It took me about five minutes before I was able to dive in and experience the crisp refreshing swim I had been missing for a couple of years. During our talk my aunt had mentioned global warming and how, earlier in the week, she had gone down to visit my parents and when she went in the ocean, it felt more like early August than early July. Nevertheless, I swam and floated around for about an hour and a half before I was all done. I dried off, sat for awhile and then packed to go home. My aunt, a voracious reader, gave me Joe Hills, “Heart Shaped Box.” A book I oddly enough learned about on myspace but still seemed interesting enough to read.
It's been a quiet but full weekend. After my swim, I drove home, ate a quick lunch and cracked the book. Two days later and I'm about 55% of the way through. It's basically a modern day ghost story with its own quirky references to current or recently current pop culture.
Last night was The Dropkick Murphy's and Mighty Might Bosstones at McCoy Stadium. The show overall was awesome but by 11pm I was done for the night or at least I thought I was. The Guy, Dubs and I left McCoy and received a call from El Capitan. El Capitan wanted to meet for beers and whiskeys at the dirty bar. After sitting out in the sun all afternoon, the last thing I needed was booze until closing time, but I was a good sport and after the Guy dropped us off, I accompanied Dubs to the bar to meet El Capitan and the missus. Two Heineken lights later and I could feel my head beginning to pound. When the hell was the last time I ate?
3 fried eggs and wheat toast at about 10 in the morning and since then, it's been nothing but beer and orbit gum...AWESOME
the bar closed and Dubs and I were starving, he also could not remember his last meal. There were options, most of them fast food or yuck truck related, but then like a beacon of hope, we remembered the CRUST. Golden Crust has probably the most delicious and reasonable eats around. Dubs got the world famous buffalo chicken pizza in large form. I ordered the 10 wing dinner and a small buffalo chicken pizza. 20 minutes later Dubs was splitting his pizza with his cat and I was watching Sin City and eating chicken wings. I finished the wings, but conked out way before the movie was over.
Woke up this AM, cleaned a little less than I would have liked to. Still tired from the show, took a nap and contemplated going for another swim. However, since it was Sunday and I was not working, I told my brother I would go to his softball game. Drove to Moonsocket, watched the game, came home and here I am.
Tomorrow I start with a new primary care physician, who I am sure is going to tell me, I'm too fat...don't eat anything...exercise more...AWESOME
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Sunday, July 06, 2008
Indecision '08
So it's two o'clock in the fucking morning and while I should be sleeping, I'm not.
there are too many other things that I would rather do like
read
play video games
screw around on the internet
clean the house*
blog
but what am I really doing?
I'm blogging and listening to music to finally make a cd for a friend. A cd I promised months ago.
problem is, I have such a wide variety of music and I know not everyone's taste is as eclectic as mine, so what's a guy to do?
...it would probably help if I did not have the repeat function in winamp on. The one good thing, I'm not making this cd for someone I'm trying to woo.
if nothing else, that lowers my anxiety level by about a billion.
Wow, I just listened to a cd that I really thought was very solid, always put me in a good mood, you know what I'm talking about.
now, it could just be my reaction to a lackluster weekend, the fact that I'm feeling under the weather, but the one song I was looking for on this disc,
just doesn't jazz me like it used to.
so the search goes on...
i'm not even going to try and theme this disc cause at this time of night and at this point in my life, I don't know whether to shit, or go blind.
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
* not really
there are too many other things that I would rather do like
read
play video games
screw around on the internet
clean the house*
blog
but what am I really doing?
I'm blogging and listening to music to finally make a cd for a friend. A cd I promised months ago.
problem is, I have such a wide variety of music and I know not everyone's taste is as eclectic as mine, so what's a guy to do?
...it would probably help if I did not have the repeat function in winamp on. The one good thing, I'm not making this cd for someone I'm trying to woo.
if nothing else, that lowers my anxiety level by about a billion.
Wow, I just listened to a cd that I really thought was very solid, always put me in a good mood, you know what I'm talking about.
now, it could just be my reaction to a lackluster weekend, the fact that I'm feeling under the weather, but the one song I was looking for on this disc,
just doesn't jazz me like it used to.
so the search goes on...
i'm not even going to try and theme this disc cause at this time of night and at this point in my life, I don't know whether to shit, or go blind.
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
* not really
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
File this under
even more boring than math class...
So I've got nothing, literally nothing for you. I'm out. Empty like Paris Hilton's Head and my bank account.
The new news, is that I haven't been sleeping all that well. I think it's a seasonal thing but, but to be honest,
the nights have not been all that intolerable around here. Summer has finally decided to show up and the best
way I can describe it is well...hot.
this morning, when I finally decided to pull my ass out of bed, it was warm, even for a little before eight.
I showered, and as soon as I was out and reasonably dry, I could tell it was going to be warm outside and
I needed to get to the grocery store, cause I was out of food.
Walked out of the crib and cursed my dumb ass for leaving my sunglasses in D-lo's car the other night. It was
bright and hot and in general, way too much for not the morning person I am. Made it to and through the grocery
store without too much fanfare. Came home and made poached eggs on dry wheat toast....mmmm(not so much)
Now, here I sit, doing the clackity-clack thing, putting some thoughts down before I drive up to my aunts and throw
my big ass into the pool for the first time this summer. I promise to learn to take pictures sometime soon. Until then
we'll just have to get by on my awesome writing skills.
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
So I've got nothing, literally nothing for you. I'm out. Empty like Paris Hilton's Head and my bank account.
The new news, is that I haven't been sleeping all that well. I think it's a seasonal thing but, but to be honest,
the nights have not been all that intolerable around here. Summer has finally decided to show up and the best
way I can describe it is well...hot.
this morning, when I finally decided to pull my ass out of bed, it was warm, even for a little before eight.
I showered, and as soon as I was out and reasonably dry, I could tell it was going to be warm outside and
I needed to get to the grocery store, cause I was out of food.
Walked out of the crib and cursed my dumb ass for leaving my sunglasses in D-lo's car the other night. It was
bright and hot and in general, way too much for not the morning person I am. Made it to and through the grocery
store without too much fanfare. Came home and made poached eggs on dry wheat toast....mmmm(not so much)
Now, here I sit, doing the clackity-clack thing, putting some thoughts down before I drive up to my aunts and throw
my big ass into the pool for the first time this summer. I promise to learn to take pictures sometime soon. Until then
we'll just have to get by on my awesome writing skills.
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Bullcorn...
So I can think of roughly eleventy-billion things I would rather do than go to work on my day off.
Color me Dante, but, "I'm not even supposed to be there today."
The thing that sucks most is that, no wait, the other things sucks most. The thing that sucks the second most, is that after leaving work on any given night, my phone will ring roughly 5-6 hours later, asking me if I can come in and work. 5-6 hours after I have just finished a shift. Most nights I am just going to bed 5-6 hours later.
What's funny, well maybe not funny but at least ironic, is most of the reason the Agency needs me to come in, is so that the morning sup can go and sit in meetings all day and not work. yeah right, go fuck yourself!!! There were plenty of mornings when I was working and had shit to do and there were staffing issues. You know what? Sometimes...you just have to miss those meetings. Yeah, I know getting of the unit and not working with our "guests" is a great perk, but you are a cunt and should know better.
So, after one day off, I get to go back to Hell Inc. and spend what has turned into a gorgeous day making sure all is right with the wrongest of inmates. Fan-fucking-tastic!!!
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
Color me Dante, but, "I'm not even supposed to be there today."
The thing that sucks most is that, no wait, the other things sucks most. The thing that sucks the second most, is that after leaving work on any given night, my phone will ring roughly 5-6 hours later, asking me if I can come in and work. 5-6 hours after I have just finished a shift. Most nights I am just going to bed 5-6 hours later.
What's funny, well maybe not funny but at least ironic, is most of the reason the Agency needs me to come in, is so that the morning sup can go and sit in meetings all day and not work. yeah right, go fuck yourself!!! There were plenty of mornings when I was working and had shit to do and there were staffing issues. You know what? Sometimes...you just have to miss those meetings. Yeah, I know getting of the unit and not working with our "guests" is a great perk, but you are a cunt and should know better.
So, after one day off, I get to go back to Hell Inc. and spend what has turned into a gorgeous day making sure all is right with the wrongest of inmates. Fan-fucking-tastic!!!
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
Friday, June 27, 2008
Tales of Chet....
The other morning I woke and was sure I was either dead or hallucinating...
yes, I had been up late the night before but not that late
yes, I had been drinking the night before but not that drunk
yes, there was fast food before bed, but not that much fast food
however, there was, when I awoke a raccoon in my living room
I blinked a few times and tried to wipe the sleep from my eyes
shaking my head, trying to knock the cobwebs loose, I looked at the raccoon, who happened to be paying me no mind.
“no way...”
Oh...way my friend!
Cool, the raccoon was talking to me so I MUST still be dreaming!
Not only are you not dreaming, but I can read your mind, so watch it there sweet pea
Holy shit!!! There is a talking raccoon in my living room. What the hell am I going to do?
Well the polite thing would be to offer me a drink, but as you don't even know my name yet Jim, I can see why you haven't.
I was still shaking my head in disbelief and swearing off booze forever, like a thousand times before. The inside of my mouth tasted like the bathroom floor of a bus station and my head started to pound like one of those fucking night clubs that were so popular in the early 90's. My pores were opening and the ghosts of a thousand nights of $2 long island iced teas and endless tap beer began to haunt my questionable consciousness.
Listen guy, you can call me Chet, or Uncle Frank, whatever is better for you...
Uncle Frank? What the hell is that about? What are you doing here?
I wish I knew guy. I thought I was dead and in that big dump in the sky and well...here I am.
So you're dead?!
I could be...I'm not really sure, but this place is a dump and you've got plenty of trash to eat so I'm not going to complain.
Hey Uncle Frank, why don't you watch your mouth. There's nothing saying I can't wrap you up in a box and throw your ass outside.
Yeah, you could do that but your old and slow and besides I know you are afraid of me biting you, as well you should be. They don't even have shots yet for the shit I'd give you.
I'm not afraid of you...and what do you mean by, “the shit you'd give me?”
ghost rabies...
Ghost rabies...fuck!!!! That sounds intense!
You bet you sweet showroom ass it's intense. Doctors the world over are constantly baffled by it and yet never work to cure it, so I guess that works in my favor.
Yeah, I guess it does. So you really have no idea how you got here or what you are doing?
Bro, this place is not Fort Knox. One of my living brethren could easily shimmy up the deck and with the use of our opposable thumbs, open the door and walk in. You might want to work on that.
Did you just, “Bro” me?
I did but don't worry about that. As far as what I'm doing here, maybe I'm here to tell you to clean this place up. Maybe I'm here to tell you to not waste time on your day off snoozing and doing shit that is counter productive to your dreams. Maybe I'm here to tell you that, “the guy upstairs” has given you some great tools to work with and you're fucking blowing it down here. Just maybe that's what I'm saying...or here to say, I guess.
Yeah, I've been meaning to tidy up a bit. I know I've been wasting time but things just seem to get in the way all the fucking time and on my days off, I just want to relax and recharge.
Listen guy, I hear that but the strategies you are using are causing you to fall into the Paula Abdul syndrome...
Sorry?
Two steps forward, three steps back.
Fuck...really?!
Without a doubt broseph. As far as things getting in your way, bfd, it happens to everyone, you just gotta keep on keepin' on. You think I wanna be here, talking to your dumb ass versus rooting through that big trash pile in the sky? WRONG...but apparently I took my opposable thumbs for granted during my life and now I have to earn my wings or thumbs as the case may be, before I can go and eat the “good garbage” and sleep in fleece-lined nests.
But I've been better about the blogging though.
You have bro...but let's be honest, no one is coming banging or even knocking on your door for you to write for them. Bro, like three people read your blog and two of them are your Mom and your brother. I've seen your sitemeter stats bro, poor is being generous. So let's refocus the focus on school and nothing else for awhile, mmmk?
Ahh, ah ah. Remember I can read your mind, I know school is hard. In my life, I was an actuary, I dealt with heavy duty math all day long 6 days a week. Thank God for my thumbs!
Is that what did you in? The math, the pressure?
Nah bro...I used to eat a ton of fast food and smoke Kools like they were never going to make them again. All the pressure, the work, bad eating habits, the smoking & drinking and screwing around on the wife...all of that combined, that's what ran my clock out.
All that shit and you cheating on your wife and you think you're here to save me so you can move on? How about the fact that you were a douchebag in life and now maybe it's time to pay the fiddler?
Why a douchebag bro? Don't get all high and mighty on me. Let's be honest, you have not always been Mr. Clean-livin' your entire life. On top of that...you don't live, you work and then come home and bunker down in your four walls and dream of things you have no intention of working towards. Oh boo-hoo, I wish my life was more interesting... Geez
Hey Uncle Frank, why don't you go fuck yourself? Go bother someone who gives a shit man.
But you do give a shit man, if you didn't you would not be in the job you're in, you would not have the friends you have, extend yourself so thin for other people, that they don't even have a unit of measurement small enough to describe how thin you get. When your phone rings at 3:30 in the morning and that crazy chick, you know, “the one you don't give a shit about” calls and she's crying, and you pull on pants and go out in the rain at 4 in the morning, just to make her feel safe....you totally give a shit. You give too much of a shit. You give so much of a shit, most days you've got nothing left for yourself.
You gotta start being more selfish man. It's natural and ok to want and get things for yourself. Wanting a nice place to live and a car that runs well and looks good are fine. A mansion and a leer jet, that might be greedy, but I know you don't want those things. I also know that you feel like most women are, “out of your league” Fuck that Bro! You're an intelligent, interesting, drop-dead funny guy. Yeah, you could stand to loose a few pounds, but everyone could be in better health. Listen Jimbo, I know you don't want to spend all your free time banging playboy bunnies, but there is nothing wrong with going after things you want.
You're right Uncle Frank...but
But what you're afraid? You don't think the first time I used the thumb to pull the lid off the trash I wasn't scared. I was scared shitless...but you know what? That fucking lasagna inside smelled awesome and tasted a thousand times better after I took the chance. Life is a sweet swimming pool there Jimbabwe...jump right in! Fuck fear! Listen, I know for a fact that you've heard all of this shit before in various forms so I'm not going to waste any more of your time and my breath. Man up and get on the bus son, get on the bus.
I looked at the window and before I could say another word, Uncle Frank and his opposable thumbs had lifted the screen and were out the window, like it happened every day. I'd say I've got more to say but maybe I should leave that for another time and go out and do some of that livin' I've heard so much about.
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
yes, I had been up late the night before but not that late
yes, I had been drinking the night before but not that drunk
yes, there was fast food before bed, but not that much fast food
however, there was, when I awoke a raccoon in my living room
I blinked a few times and tried to wipe the sleep from my eyes
shaking my head, trying to knock the cobwebs loose, I looked at the raccoon, who happened to be paying me no mind.
“no way...”
Oh...way my friend!
Cool, the raccoon was talking to me so I MUST still be dreaming!
Not only are you not dreaming, but I can read your mind, so watch it there sweet pea
Holy shit!!! There is a talking raccoon in my living room. What the hell am I going to do?
Well the polite thing would be to offer me a drink, but as you don't even know my name yet Jim, I can see why you haven't.
I was still shaking my head in disbelief and swearing off booze forever, like a thousand times before. The inside of my mouth tasted like the bathroom floor of a bus station and my head started to pound like one of those fucking night clubs that were so popular in the early 90's. My pores were opening and the ghosts of a thousand nights of $2 long island iced teas and endless tap beer began to haunt my questionable consciousness.
Listen guy, you can call me Chet, or Uncle Frank, whatever is better for you...
Uncle Frank? What the hell is that about? What are you doing here?
I wish I knew guy. I thought I was dead and in that big dump in the sky and well...here I am.
So you're dead?!
I could be...I'm not really sure, but this place is a dump and you've got plenty of trash to eat so I'm not going to complain.
Hey Uncle Frank, why don't you watch your mouth. There's nothing saying I can't wrap you up in a box and throw your ass outside.
Yeah, you could do that but your old and slow and besides I know you are afraid of me biting you, as well you should be. They don't even have shots yet for the shit I'd give you.
I'm not afraid of you...and what do you mean by, “the shit you'd give me?”
ghost rabies...
Ghost rabies...fuck!!!! That sounds intense!
You bet you sweet showroom ass it's intense. Doctors the world over are constantly baffled by it and yet never work to cure it, so I guess that works in my favor.
Yeah, I guess it does. So you really have no idea how you got here or what you are doing?
Bro, this place is not Fort Knox. One of my living brethren could easily shimmy up the deck and with the use of our opposable thumbs, open the door and walk in. You might want to work on that.
Did you just, “Bro” me?
I did but don't worry about that. As far as what I'm doing here, maybe I'm here to tell you to clean this place up. Maybe I'm here to tell you to not waste time on your day off snoozing and doing shit that is counter productive to your dreams. Maybe I'm here to tell you that, “the guy upstairs” has given you some great tools to work with and you're fucking blowing it down here. Just maybe that's what I'm saying...or here to say, I guess.
Yeah, I've been meaning to tidy up a bit. I know I've been wasting time but things just seem to get in the way all the fucking time and on my days off, I just want to relax and recharge.
Listen guy, I hear that but the strategies you are using are causing you to fall into the Paula Abdul syndrome...
Sorry?
Two steps forward, three steps back.
Fuck...really?!
Without a doubt broseph. As far as things getting in your way, bfd, it happens to everyone, you just gotta keep on keepin' on. You think I wanna be here, talking to your dumb ass versus rooting through that big trash pile in the sky? WRONG...but apparently I took my opposable thumbs for granted during my life and now I have to earn my wings or thumbs as the case may be, before I can go and eat the “good garbage” and sleep in fleece-lined nests.
But I've been better about the blogging though.
You have bro...but let's be honest, no one is coming banging or even knocking on your door for you to write for them. Bro, like three people read your blog and two of them are your Mom and your brother. I've seen your sitemeter stats bro, poor is being generous. So let's refocus the focus on school and nothing else for awhile, mmmk?
Ahh, ah ah. Remember I can read your mind, I know school is hard. In my life, I was an actuary, I dealt with heavy duty math all day long 6 days a week. Thank God for my thumbs!
Is that what did you in? The math, the pressure?
Nah bro...I used to eat a ton of fast food and smoke Kools like they were never going to make them again. All the pressure, the work, bad eating habits, the smoking & drinking and screwing around on the wife...all of that combined, that's what ran my clock out.
All that shit and you cheating on your wife and you think you're here to save me so you can move on? How about the fact that you were a douchebag in life and now maybe it's time to pay the fiddler?
Why a douchebag bro? Don't get all high and mighty on me. Let's be honest, you have not always been Mr. Clean-livin' your entire life. On top of that...you don't live, you work and then come home and bunker down in your four walls and dream of things you have no intention of working towards. Oh boo-hoo, I wish my life was more interesting... Geez
Hey Uncle Frank, why don't you go fuck yourself? Go bother someone who gives a shit man.
But you do give a shit man, if you didn't you would not be in the job you're in, you would not have the friends you have, extend yourself so thin for other people, that they don't even have a unit of measurement small enough to describe how thin you get. When your phone rings at 3:30 in the morning and that crazy chick, you know, “the one you don't give a shit about” calls and she's crying, and you pull on pants and go out in the rain at 4 in the morning, just to make her feel safe....you totally give a shit. You give too much of a shit. You give so much of a shit, most days you've got nothing left for yourself.
I know...
You gotta start being more selfish man. It's natural and ok to want and get things for yourself. Wanting a nice place to live and a car that runs well and looks good are fine. A mansion and a leer jet, that might be greedy, but I know you don't want those things. I also know that you feel like most women are, “out of your league” Fuck that Bro! You're an intelligent, interesting, drop-dead funny guy. Yeah, you could stand to loose a few pounds, but everyone could be in better health. Listen Jimbo, I know you don't want to spend all your free time banging playboy bunnies, but there is nothing wrong with going after things you want.
You're right Uncle Frank...but
But what you're afraid? You don't think the first time I used the thumb to pull the lid off the trash I wasn't scared. I was scared shitless...but you know what? That fucking lasagna inside smelled awesome and tasted a thousand times better after I took the chance. Life is a sweet swimming pool there Jimbabwe...jump right in! Fuck fear! Listen, I know for a fact that you've heard all of this shit before in various forms so I'm not going to waste any more of your time and my breath. Man up and get on the bus son, get on the bus.
I looked at the window and before I could say another word, Uncle Frank and his opposable thumbs had lifted the screen and were out the window, like it happened every day. I'd say I've got more to say but maybe I should leave that for another time and go out and do some of that livin' I've heard so much about.
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Bottoms up....
The good and bad thing about blogging is that no matter what, you have to keep banging it out. You have to keep writing, otherwise, what the hell is it good for?
It's coming up on 2AM on a Tuesday night and I'm fucking drunk.
I'm talking drunk like it's Saturday night in Winona, circa 1999
when all was write and wrong in the world simultaneously.
Tonight was a decent night at work, not to much drama, not too much hassle...
Which may have been why I said yes to the invitation to go out after work, even though my drunk of a boss was not working.
Travelled down the ave and two streets over
to The Abbey, a watering favorite, with a
decent beer selection
and friendlier help
we chatted about old times
new times
times we'd
forgotten about
and
times expired
me, el capitan, D-lo and Buttacaramel
some of the sweetest
to sail the seas of
random adrift
even with faults
one could not ask for better co-workers
or better looking female co-workers
many topics of conversation covered
crossed
lines blurred
by
brews
bodies
desires
be they appropriate or other wise
old co-workers
reassuring me
my cock is
not small
but better than average
and who am I to argue
when the benefit of the doubt is given
and then asked to be seen?
all of this coupled with
promises of show and tell
at a later date
washed down with Newport Storms
lead to smiles on my face and
promises of very interesting dreams...
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
It's coming up on 2AM on a Tuesday night and I'm fucking drunk.
I'm talking drunk like it's Saturday night in Winona, circa 1999
when all was write and wrong in the world simultaneously.
Tonight was a decent night at work, not to much drama, not too much hassle...
Which may have been why I said yes to the invitation to go out after work, even though my drunk of a boss was not working.
Travelled down the ave and two streets over
to The Abbey, a watering favorite, with a
decent beer selection
and friendlier help
we chatted about old times
new times
times we'd
forgotten about
and
times expired
me, el capitan, D-lo and Buttacaramel
some of the sweetest
to sail the seas of
random adrift
even with faults
one could not ask for better co-workers
or better looking female co-workers
many topics of conversation covered
crossed
lines blurred
by
brews
bodies
desires
be they appropriate or other wise
old co-workers
reassuring me
my cock is
not small
but better than average
and who am I to argue
when the benefit of the doubt is given
and then asked to be seen?
all of this coupled with
promises of show and tell
at a later date
washed down with Newport Storms
lead to smiles on my face and
promises of very interesting dreams...
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
Friday, June 20, 2008
Thanks Nuanda...
You see...
She was built for comfort
not for speed
touring class booty with pearly white smile
handed me iced coffee and said. “stay awhile”
funky red hair
low rise jeans
fresh faced beauty
hop...skip...and a jump from her teens
dropped my silver jingle into callused hand
cracked a crafty smile while we shot the breeze
asked me if I had plans
to see the Bosstones and Murphys
hey it's been awhile since you've been around
said, “the f1 is a fantastic ship, but that ship has run aground”
she said all you need to sail
can be bought here by the pound
Jackass Jimmy said, “that's all well and good
but I don't come here for the brew...
Jackass Jimmy winked and grinned his grin,
“I sails the darkest waters in hopes of seeing you”
she listens to the music and remembers New Year's Eve
meeting at Heartbreak Hotel
exchanging awkward glances
her side- her boy friend would not leave
Jackass Jimmy you know I have a man
you saw him at the show
“Baby I don't care about your man
and I just thought that you should know”
“when your good and tired of your boyfriend who we both know is lame
I'm in the on deck circle, anxious be my name
cause I'm throwing a no-hitter and have locked up MVP
but all the glory ain't worth shit if there ain't no you and me”
her cheeks were flushed with crimson like the darkest fire truck
Jackass Jimmy don't lie to me, you're just looking for a fuck
I may not be a veteran or even league MVP
but I've been around long enough to smell lines of bullshit as far as the eye can see
“you think of me when you hear the Mighty tones of Bosston
and probably other times as well
all I'm saying baby is life is to short
to waist your time in hell”
“cause this ride ain't forever
and tomorrows another day
so lets make the most of this
and leave the nonsense in the fray”
“come have dinner and dance the night with me
and if your night is not divine
then blame it all on me
but if you remember it like New Year's Eve before
then leave your ”man” behind
and think of him no more..."
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
She was built for comfort
not for speed
touring class booty with pearly white smile
handed me iced coffee and said. “stay awhile”
funky red hair
low rise jeans
fresh faced beauty
hop...skip...and a jump from her teens
dropped my silver jingle into callused hand
cracked a crafty smile while we shot the breeze
asked me if I had plans
to see the Bosstones and Murphys
hey it's been awhile since you've been around
said, “the f1 is a fantastic ship, but that ship has run aground”
she said all you need to sail
can be bought here by the pound
Jackass Jimmy said, “that's all well and good
but I don't come here for the brew...
Jackass Jimmy winked and grinned his grin,
“I sails the darkest waters in hopes of seeing you”
she listens to the music and remembers New Year's Eve
meeting at Heartbreak Hotel
exchanging awkward glances
her side- her boy friend would not leave
Jackass Jimmy you know I have a man
you saw him at the show
“Baby I don't care about your man
and I just thought that you should know”
“when your good and tired of your boyfriend who we both know is lame
I'm in the on deck circle, anxious be my name
cause I'm throwing a no-hitter and have locked up MVP
but all the glory ain't worth shit if there ain't no you and me”
her cheeks were flushed with crimson like the darkest fire truck
Jackass Jimmy don't lie to me, you're just looking for a fuck
I may not be a veteran or even league MVP
but I've been around long enough to smell lines of bullshit as far as the eye can see
“you think of me when you hear the Mighty tones of Bosston
and probably other times as well
all I'm saying baby is life is to short
to waist your time in hell”
“cause this ride ain't forever
and tomorrows another day
so lets make the most of this
and leave the nonsense in the fray”
“come have dinner and dance the night with me
and if your night is not divine
then blame it all on me
but if you remember it like New Year's Eve before
then leave your ”man” behind
and think of him no more..."
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
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