"There are reasons I feel bad about eating cake but then I give thanks to my powerful nuts."
-Me
-Me
I'm slowly inching my way from my old domain on Diaryland. Not only do I feel a strong need to pull myself away from people that no longer wish to read but be read, I must cut ties. It's not always easy to just drop people from an old faves list after years and years of reading people. Just about everyone has offended me in some way but I like that. Any small amount of pain reminds me that I am alive. It's just that some need to be cut the fuck loose as they continue to spit out the most useless of information imaginable. Doesn't anyone care to let loose an opinion or 2 about our country's need to be rated the worst in health care? Should the Monarchy be rid of? Will soccer ever be accepted in the U.S. instead of being seen as a sissy game? How do you really feel about passing gas? Have you ever been in love? What do you find enjoyable about sex? How do you feel about our Senate? Will black people ever stop the stereotypes instead of bitching about them all being false? Is it more or does country music get worse every year by making you want to pull the person over and stomp on their stereo? Do female farts contain mysterious mystical qualities to be studied in helping to stop the destruction of the ozone?
So, there. I'm just about done with Diaryland. Like a good friend, it's hard to move on. I love this Blogger account even if I feel a small amount of loneliness on the 'Net. It was never my intention to be popular but I do enjoy knowing people that aren't fearful of spitting out words that quite possibly contain venom.
And so life goes on. My mother's surgery was scheduled today. To be rid of breast cancer, it will take place on the 29th. So, while you are most likely enjoying the festive of Memorial Day weekend, I will be here to care for 5 dogs that make your head spin around. If it's not one, it's the other 4 that drive us crazy, seeing as Terriers are a noisy breed.
Knowing me, I just had to ask my mother a question while she looked over information about her breast surgery. "Are you gonna lose a boob?" Of course, my mom knows my humor and even laughed at this. No, she's not going to have a special place set out on the bookshelf for a boob placed in a jar full of liquid for all to see. It would go nicely with my high school yearbooks and a large bell used to bring in unruly 3rd Graders that my mother once taught.
Along with movies being my telling of the seasons, the bodybuilders I work out with are now in their own worlds. You should see them. While the winter months has them training mildly while eating large amounts, summer has them lifting obscene amounts of weight with more focus. It's always the same. They get bigger, then they cut back on calories and water to dehydrate the muscles right before a show to make themselves more defined. The one thing these guys all have to have is a 'spotter,' someone to help handle the large amount of weight on each lifting session, because tiring out is not an option.
What I find amusing is the head bodybuilder that owns my gym, Kevin. He has 2 kids that come by every now and then, seeing as he and his wife don't allow these young 'uns to be alone for too long. The oldest is a girl that is about to enter high school. I feel for any guy about to date her because one look at Kevin and you'll be in fear of your life. 'Big' is an understatement seeing as I may be slightly close to his size but what he has is so much definition. What you may not understand as a civilian not familiar with our world is that muscle does not necessarily make a person bigger. It just looks that way in a twisted sense. Kevin and I have big arms but his are only slightly bigger. You wouldn't realize that on comparing us.
Yes, I am still working on getting rid of the thickness. My sessions in the gym are much lighter than the old days of releasing more frustrations just to test my strength. It's gonna take a long time to get my body the way I want it. I'll always have big hooters to be gawked at or make small animals run away in fear.
One of the nicest things is coming across an old flick that brings back memories. You've probably never heard of DragonSlayer, a 1981 movie starring Peter McNichol. The damn thing was on HBO every fucking day to the point that I had it memorized. They don't make dragon movies like this anymore thanks to crappy CGI that just doesn't terrorize me. Computer made werewolves or evil serpents just don't have the power that the company of Jim Henson did. Remember him? That guy could take rubber and whatnot to put together scary creatures like David Bowie's Labyrinth.
Note: Labyrinth was weird, a good weird, but will forever be the movie where one of my friends kept commenting on David's cock shielded by tights. I should know. I once had to wear tights for a medieval dance and anyone watching could see my balls fly all around. It's no secret that I have very large balls, even for a 7th Grader during a dance.
So, I'm going to spend some time trying a few things on this blog tomorrow. Maybe I'll get them right or find myself banging my head against the screen. The horrors of girls and parents witnessing my being blessed with a large appendage are long gone. Well, I should since I have a girlfriend that finds it amusing to hold them in the palm of her hand with a smile on her face. If only I could master my hatred for the computer's so called attributes. Happy twats all around.
So, there. I'm just about done with Diaryland. Like a good friend, it's hard to move on. I love this Blogger account even if I feel a small amount of loneliness on the 'Net. It was never my intention to be popular but I do enjoy knowing people that aren't fearful of spitting out words that quite possibly contain venom.
And so life goes on. My mother's surgery was scheduled today. To be rid of breast cancer, it will take place on the 29th. So, while you are most likely enjoying the festive of Memorial Day weekend, I will be here to care for 5 dogs that make your head spin around. If it's not one, it's the other 4 that drive us crazy, seeing as Terriers are a noisy breed.
Knowing me, I just had to ask my mother a question while she looked over information about her breast surgery. "Are you gonna lose a boob?" Of course, my mom knows my humor and even laughed at this. No, she's not going to have a special place set out on the bookshelf for a boob placed in a jar full of liquid for all to see. It would go nicely with my high school yearbooks and a large bell used to bring in unruly 3rd Graders that my mother once taught.
Along with movies being my telling of the seasons, the bodybuilders I work out with are now in their own worlds. You should see them. While the winter months has them training mildly while eating large amounts, summer has them lifting obscene amounts of weight with more focus. It's always the same. They get bigger, then they cut back on calories and water to dehydrate the muscles right before a show to make themselves more defined. The one thing these guys all have to have is a 'spotter,' someone to help handle the large amount of weight on each lifting session, because tiring out is not an option.
What I find amusing is the head bodybuilder that owns my gym, Kevin. He has 2 kids that come by every now and then, seeing as he and his wife don't allow these young 'uns to be alone for too long. The oldest is a girl that is about to enter high school. I feel for any guy about to date her because one look at Kevin and you'll be in fear of your life. 'Big' is an understatement seeing as I may be slightly close to his size but what he has is so much definition. What you may not understand as a civilian not familiar with our world is that muscle does not necessarily make a person bigger. It just looks that way in a twisted sense. Kevin and I have big arms but his are only slightly bigger. You wouldn't realize that on comparing us.
Yes, I am still working on getting rid of the thickness. My sessions in the gym are much lighter than the old days of releasing more frustrations just to test my strength. It's gonna take a long time to get my body the way I want it. I'll always have big hooters to be gawked at or make small animals run away in fear.
One of the nicest things is coming across an old flick that brings back memories. You've probably never heard of DragonSlayer, a 1981 movie starring Peter McNichol. The damn thing was on HBO every fucking day to the point that I had it memorized. They don't make dragon movies like this anymore thanks to crappy CGI that just doesn't terrorize me. Computer made werewolves or evil serpents just don't have the power that the company of Jim Henson did. Remember him? That guy could take rubber and whatnot to put together scary creatures like David Bowie's Labyrinth.
Note: Labyrinth was weird, a good weird, but will forever be the movie where one of my friends kept commenting on David's cock shielded by tights. I should know. I once had to wear tights for a medieval dance and anyone watching could see my balls fly all around. It's no secret that I have very large balls, even for a 7th Grader during a dance.
So, I'm going to spend some time trying a few things on this blog tomorrow. Maybe I'll get them right or find myself banging my head against the screen. The horrors of girls and parents witnessing my being blessed with a large appendage are long gone. Well, I should since I have a girlfriend that finds it amusing to hold them in the palm of her hand with a smile on her face. If only I could master my hatred for the computer's so called attributes. Happy twats all around.
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