Pissin' For The Man

"Cyborgs don't feel pain. I do."

-The Terminator

Whoo! I'm loving the new feeling of having accomplished something, return home, eat, work out, and then walk the dog. I'm busy for a long time so it's not til close to 8pm that I will finally be able to sit down and lead the working man's life. Looking for porn can really help me come down from the daily high.

There's something about working with a person you are not quite sure if it's a man or a woman. Now, I'm not making fun in any way. It's just that I like to be careful in what I say that might imply a wrong guess. "Do you have a dick?" is a big no-no. It would have been easier if the person shaved her legs because that's a dead give-away. Unfortunately, she did not but eventual mannerisms gave it away. Pretty nice person.

Oh, the Japanese tourists I mentioned yesterday somehow ended up in my backyard taking pictures of the giant pumpkins. Must be a GPS system built into these people because I'm amazed at how knowing no English can get these people this far. The pumpkins look like Godzilla painted his balls orange. We are on an orange alert here because he might be on the premesis. No one likes to lose his/her house to a an overgrown lizard like Godzilla.

Work makes me more cheerful even if it is kind of boring. The managers are pretty smart at having people do different things to fight boredom. Why can't other places learn that? Workers will feel a small sense of being more awake while doing a different task than the usual shit. Hell, I'm still learning to card in.

The only thing that really weirds me out is how the managers seem to know all about me even before I started. My name was already known by the instructor. No pictures were taken prior, just a background check that was very extensive. What I'm curious about is whether I take a drug-test (will pass easily) that requires me to piss in front of someone. This place is serious. One of the girls I knew in the past had to pee in front of a manager and she even watched the whole stream. Maybe I'll ask if my pee guardian can lighten my load by holding my cock for me. I am, after all, working in an area where there are a lot of cameras and I get tickled silly from pat downs. Any day I get felt up by a cute black girl is a good day.

So, I'm outta here after another day where I come home horny, sweaty, and in need to see some fine pussy. Sara must feel the same, but for dick, because I'm ordered to get to Indiana after work. Life is good. Enjoy the calm of the park as the night breeze brings you back down from that high. Happy twats all around.

Boners

"I'm sorry, nipples."

-Californication (a couple tries S & M and a threesome for the first time only to have majorly bad results, the so-called lucky male gets his nipple accidently ripped off by his wife)

Ever tried to communicate with someone that just cannot receive what you are trying to say? I spent a bit of time trying to talk to Japanese tourists while walking 5-Pound Phooey. What I was trying to tell them that it's nice that they find our park's gardens something worth taking pictures of (we have a set of piano keys like in the movie, Big) but what'll really get their attention is the 4 gigantic pumpkins sitting near my backyard courtesy of my gardener. I tried. Oh lordy, I tried to use a form of sign language to mimic a pumpkin but couldn't get through. I'm sure these Japanese tourists thought I was part of the package of Americans gone wrong thanks to a lackluster education system. You try getting a foreigner to know what a pumpkin is by using your hands.

No, I didn't shout, "Godzilla!" but I was so tempted to point into the sky and say that.

As for why we had an onslaught of Japanese tourists, I have no clue. It was nice, though, to see all these people dressed up and walking around with cameras. The best part is how they strike a pose while taking pictures. Wedgies are almost made to look permanent.

So, Iran's president does not think homosexuals exist. I laughed. I laughed at how so many Americans had trouble with him coming here to speak at Columbia college. What happened to freedom of speech? I, for one, hate the guy but I respect his right to say loony shit about homosexuals not existing and the Holocaust being a myth. What did strike me is the 60 Minutes interview with the Iran president because the interviewer gave a nasty description about what is going on there in regards to human rights. As a rebuttal, a list of our president's lack of caring about our rights was given. So, like, who's the bad guy here? Bush may say a lot about how Iran is so evil but he's wiped his ass with the Constitution as well.

As for homosexuals, we have a nice little gay bar in the downtown area for the president of Iran to visit. Like I said before, you have not lived til you've seen a gigantic black man wearing nothing but a feather boa and a bra get on your car to say hi. That was my prom night. Seriously.

Work is work. Unfortunately, it has a side effect that I didn't realize would make itself so prominent in my life. Boners. I now wake up with a throbbing cock that will not go down. It would be nice if Sara were waking up next to me because she loves running her fingers down a thick angry penis pulsating with gigantic veins. Big smiles! Big smiles!

Could it be that I'm kind of happy with work. No one loves such a thing but I like to be kept a bit busy or I tend to get depressed. When I come home, I'm bouncing off walls and need to hit the gym to make myself come down. The others? Oh, the other people are worn out but not me. I'm ready to party but I've yet to experience it hardcore.

Today, was the first day they threw me to the wolves at work. The other days were just training with yesterday ending with me seeing a bit more. While it might freak out others to just be sent in the middle of things, I took to it like a fish to water. Had a little fun. Time went by fast. The managers seem nice even after being officially deemed worthy. Figured out a few things on how everything works out. Asked for the water fountain only to be made to feel like a dummy, seeing as it was right next to me. Love going through the metal detector and being patted down after work. Yes, it's weird but my only problem is setting this all to my schedule.

Let's go back to boners. Another horrible side effect from work is horniness. I'm not talking about a nice little shag with candles. What I couldn't stop thinking about was full-on yank off her jeans, rip off her panties, and bend her over to sink my cock inside her wet pussy right after pulling into my driveway. Yeah, that kind of thing seems to be playing through my mind after being thrown to the wolves. When I'm no longer depressed, I need sexual healing. Even a finger that's been exploring the wetness needs to be licked over and over. Why the fuck did the design of pussy have to be so much fun to play with!?!

The nice thing is I get to sleep in as I dream about how great it will be to tell my old workplace to go fuck themselves. They'll call. I know because I was highly recommended each time I walked in to see one of the fun co-workers I used to talk to. Believe it or not, there were a few. Most are gone, after getting smart after having enough of dealing with the management's stupid decisions.

So, I'm outta here awaiting another day of work and dealing with a humongous boner first thing in the morning. What's funny to me is when Sara told me she doesn't know how I walk with this thing and how I can keep the damn thing in my Calvins. I've showed her how penises have to be stuffed but, no matter how hard I try, the girl cannot see it as worth owning one. Nice of her to write about me in her blog as "In the arms of a strong boy" or something like that. Happy twats all around.

Loved By A Mantis

Me: "Well, when I go see my girlfriend, I'm usually, at some point, slammed up against the wall and *imitates buttocks being smacked hard*."

David: "You lucky sonofabitch!"

Me: "Why? Everyone else says I'm crazy."

David: "That kind of girl's a keeper."

-An actual conversation I had with a fellow gym-goer that made me laugh. Out of all the people I tell these things to, David's the only one that thinks being dominated is a good thing. Actually, Sara and I are learning to take turns. After 2.5 years, we're only learning to do this. Go figure.

Okay, so I'm a little bit of a nasty tongue infection you wish would shut up. I've certainly heard that before, namely in the middle of my Women In Society class where 27 girls and me, being the only male, gave it his all in explaining various things I see right and wrong between the sexes. My favorite was after I was called on by the teacher (She loved me, by the way) and said, "This is what I have to say about that." One girl let out a loud sigh and said:

"Oh, no."

There are moments of complete sweetness that I tend to find most luxurious. Today, while walking 5-Pound Phooey, I came across a large praying mantis sitting on a park bench. Why it expected a conversation with the man next to it, I will never know. Then again, the praying mantis could be wanting a sip of his large espresso. Wouldn't that be nice? Drinking something to wake up only to be staring deep into the eyes of a bug that can turn its head around 360 degrees?

I picked it up. Not one to turn down making the day a little different, I cupped the praying mantis into the palm of my hand and watched it during my walk. Of course, that meant being careful when my little dog enjoys eating bugs. Cicadas may be a delicacy that I allow her but not a bug that I take a fancy to. I'd let my face get real close to look into its eyes as I walked through the park. Apparently, my nose is hideous enough to be hit by large pincers demanding me to back off. I so love a fighter completely out of its element but declined the invitation by placing the mantis in a bed of flowers. Yes, there will be some pandemonium in there but, according to 5-Pound Phooey, life's all about chasing Himalayan Persian cats.

That's not all. As I walked out of Border's during my usual Tuesday look-see, I was caught by 2 of the most gorgeous dark eyes ever. It's when you need to stand there for over 3 seconds that you realize you are in love again. There was a little Boston terrier puppy that was just begging for someone to crouch down and give it some love. Actually, 'give' is not the correct word but more like 'allow' it to gently tug on my ears and nose. I've not seen a puppy in a while so I had to sit there on the sidewalk and be given some doggie kisses. Puppy breath. Why does it have to disappear?

Funny how this large city has me run into a lot of people I know throughout my life. The owner of the puppy is a lady from my gym. We may not have talked to each other, only crossed paths, but we recognize each other easily. Stick with me and there'll always be someone trying to tell me I know him or her. I'm lovin' it but I wish someone would sit me down and insist on buying me a beer.

Nice day to find Keira Knightley doing press for her 2 new movies, Antonement and Silk. I'll have to get my butt into the theater whenever I can sit still these days. I'm hoping the rumors of seeing her bush are just that, rumors. Let's just say that I'm protective of a remarkable actress that can stun me just like puppies staring at me when I walk out of bookstores. Nice of Keira to knock Britney Spears off the cover of 'Allure.' Take that, you white trash junkie!

Work is work. Still, I am in training for 1 more day. Today was kind of fun because we took a class on dealing with explosives. Nothing like knowing we can all die if someone fucks up. Nothing like knowing it could be the result of a weird white boy with arms of steel and a very strange sense of humor that once downed a thing of soy sauce on a drunken dare.

Yup, we're all gonna die.

I'm kind of nervous at how I'm going to get eased into all this. New hours for working out since I'll be home in the early evening. No more seeing the usual oddballs and various people I work out with. It'll be me in the evening with college girls just getting off work to prove to Daddy that she doesn't need his money. Not too fucking bad, eh? Actually, it's true because I see less and less guys in my gym these days.

Football.

Love getting my picture taken when I'm too distracted to think about it. "Hey, bitch! Look here!" Hate it when it's all boring-like when I cannot show the finely crafted bottle of beer that somehow was tractor beamed into my hand. Nope, I'm getting a badge for work but hate the picture of myself. Gawd, I'm big! At least, I didn't smile.

So, I'm outta here but tomorrow I might get into why Tyra Banks has pissed me off again. Just how warped is this former supermodel? Nobody disses a love'd sex researcher. Nobody. Just as I hate hearing people say, "What about the children?" there is that other one just as bad. "What about the old people?" You'd think they've never heard about sex these days. There are bunches of old ladies out there that have had oranges or cucumbers stuffed up their pussies. It's always the quiet ones with the bedpans, these days. More on this later. Happy twats all around.

Nothing Wrong Here

"Ever notice how happy kids don't write in their diaries very much? They don't have to. Life's too fun. Diaries are for when life isn't fun. They're for figuring out what went wrong."

-'Dear Diary' byLesley Arfin (p. 5)

Weird how things are going well for me but Sara's in a bit of a bind with work. The usual co-workers are annoying or something. Not completely sure. Nice to hear from her today since we're now going back and forth about our days more so than saying anything about what we want to do to each other in bed. We're, like, so grown up now.

What I forgot to mention yesterday was my coming across a guy that used to go to my gym, one you'd not be able to forget. He has 1 tattoo and it's all over his body. His face is completely clean but the neck has a number on it. Freaky but interesting, as all my friends that grunt and strain while heavy metal blares out of the gym's speakers. We're now okay with profanities since it's what comes out of our mouths while holding obscene amounts of weight each night.

Sara is getting a tattoo and it's been mentioned that I should do one that I've wanted for some time. A tattoo? Lovely. The best part is that we're hoping to do this at one of the premiere places in New York, after being navigated around by Sara's best friend that lives there. It's when I mentioned this to the guy up above that he tells me I should take the opportunity. New York is big for the finest inkers. That's not something I'm used to hearing since, like all that watch a little or a lot of TV, it's all about Miami or L.A.

Now, I'm not afraid of needles. Shots or even shots of novocaine mean nothing to a guy that once broke his foot playing baseball but played both games of the doubleheader anyway. My only dilemma is where this fucking tattoo is going on my body, a head shot of the Joker holding a deck of cards. Yes, the little subliminal message comes out that I don't take all of life so seriously all while still reading comic books. The artwork itself is by Jim Lee so anyone that knows this name will know that the Joker is going to look damn detailed and devilish.

The old tattoo decision was of the ashrikage symbol where each line meant a battle with the earth's elements. Neato, to me. Sara hated this, a symbol worn on my favorite G.I.Joe characters, Snake-Eyes and Storm Shadow. Yes, I love ninjas and that sneakiness they do to get in and get out. Plus, mystery can make a character something more pronounced rather than revealing it all far too soon. A reader or observer is pulled and kept there until the timing is perfect for giving a hint or two. Snake-Eyes and Storm Shadow had their pasts kept for a long time in those comics, even as their uniforms changed through the battles.

As for Sara's......that's kind of a secret. It's pretty damn neat, if you ask me, only I forgot where it's going on her body. Mine'll probably be on my upper right shoulder. This is all so early anyway...........

There is one other thing. When I talked to that tattoo guy, I found out that he owned a shop. When I told him that I've always heard inkers had bad attitudes, this is the response I got: "You'd be cranky, too, if you worked 47 hours a week." Wow. I'm learning a lot about these people.

So, work? I'm in training with a large company that will make Sara jealous because I make more than her so soon. There are those other factors that drive her nuts, wealth and that I get hit on a lot even when she's with me. So far, I love what I'm about to do. The hours are far better than my old job. I will get to see daylight. Thanksgiving will be a day I can relax. Holidays are off. Many benefits come up after time spent. After a certain amount of hours, I get $100. Why didn't I start earlier?

Apparently, I didn't exist. Yup, the company did an extensive background research on me to find that my social security number was non-existent. Wondered why I didn't hear back from job interviews. After some major research into whether there were any felonies (there are none) and various bad things, I was hired rather quickly. Isn't the weird?

Of course, I finished Lesley Arfin's ''Dear Diary' yesterday. Pretty damn good account on what it's like to be addicted to heroin in New York. While many would hide the fact that a withdrawal of the drug brings up extremely embarassing times like having to have a bucket on both ends because of throwing up while facing violent diarrhea, Lesley sets you straight. It's horrible. Heroin can even make you think you are in love with someone even if it's only to get high with him/her.

What I love about diaries with an incredible sense of honesty is to show that embarassing moments are natural. Now, I've never had to walk into a bathroom to see my name used for nasty remarks but, to girls, I'm sure this is almost like a life or death situation. It would be funny if guys were like that, telling the whole school whose pussy I had eaten out. I'd always carry a marker to write: "Damn right!" beneath the caption. To my friend, Bald-O, life ends when someone takes the time to write about his need to put his finger up a girl's butt.

"But I thought we'd keep that private, man."

Yes, I need to call him and ask him if his dream of getting his finger all stinky came true. It's been what..........2 years? Things like this bring boys together. The same happens with a lot of alcohol. I like my life again and my finger has done it all. It's amazing nothing went wrong today. Happy twats all around.

Needs More Beethoven

"On pot you get paranoid and hungry, and on coke you get addicted to more coke and talk about how much you love socks for 45 minutes straight. On heroin, you are only one thing: boring. That's how you are to other people who are not on heroin. The only people who will tolerate you are the other junkies you are forcing yourself to hang out with. Eventually, I get to the point where I just surrender to being a total fuckup, but there are a lot of more boring entries on how I want to be a nice person and how great cardboard is."

-Dear Diary by Lesley Arfin (p. 180)

I have a dreamsicle. No, wait a minute that didn't come out right. Let's back up a second there. I have a dream and this kind of thing tends to come out when I see my beloved Chicago Bears get their asses handed to them by the Dallas Cowboys. An awful quarterback and tired defense allows my mind to wander.

Tomorrow, I start work. For me to get into a mental state, I have to think about the rewards over the doing actual work part thingee. No one enjoys putting in 4 to 8 hours unless you are either a Playboy photographer or the models' pubic hair groomer. He's the guy with the teeny tiny comb. Yes, those types of people exist. What I do is dream about the life I'm inching towards that I never thought I'd see. Hell, I don't even know why a girl can fall in love with me and stay that way for over 2 years.

As we all know, there is a good chance I will move to Indiana. My mom, even if I still worry about her and that cancer issue, has said that she's fine with that being a possibility. Kick the boy to the curb, yes, she must. I've only been waiting for that little kickstart to get me going and it all started with a conversation in the shower with Sara. Some of our best talks end up happening there because being completely naked makes you mentally vulnerable. Either that or when Sara slams me up against the wall to be 'searched' it's time to learn allow this new feeling of being vulnerable like I'm a gangbanger in South Central. I doubt the L.A. PD tickles like that, though.

What I want is the relaxed atmosphere. No going out getting drunk. Sara and I drink but nothing along the lines of being 'wasted' like all those wacky college kids write in their blogs these days. You'll walk into my living room and there will be an enormous lcd monitor to watch movies or play a few games when stress is needed to go bye-bye. I'm a bit on the neat side so you'll find pretty much everything in its place. I'd certainly like to bring back that old vibe Sara's gang had when we did the Beer Trek events of watching Star Trek while.....what else? Drinking beer. I've noticed that everyone misses that even if it got a little too big for the rented college house that year.

The funny thing is that after all those years with Bald-O, I'd forgotten what it was like to have just 1 or 2 beers instead of going on and on til slurring starts. Don't you just love it when 2 grown men talk really really loud as the night goes on only to find that communication just isn't possible when one talks deep southern and the other is staring up at the ceiling wondering if the crack moved?

Sara has a few sets of friends here and there that I see when I'm in town. I like 'em so I've got this comfort factor that works. We're all pretty much geeks inside, seeing as most have reading material in the bathroom that consists of video game mags and Star Trek stuff. Not my kind of thing so someone has to got to bring out the Entertainment Weeklys and Playboys. Why not? Ever read the interviews in Playboy? Far deeper than what we get in the other choices unless the person being interviewed is a rapper. Only 50-Cent can get me that steamed at how ignorant he was in what he had to say on hating gays all while still hiding the fact that his mother was bisexual.

Yeah, I'm kind of thrown by how I dream of the future. I'm not for living with Sara since we still have to see if this thing we've got going is still chugging along. To think I'll be able to own a house in 2 years really freaks me the fuck out. Wealth is nice but I'd rather feel like I'm content for once.

As I've said over and over, the nicest time is to curl up on a large comfy couch with a girl after a day spent at work and then in the gym. I wonder how far I'll go there as well. Will I still hit the place hard or will I fade out? My friends say I'm far too vain to just give up. Sara loves to see me naked all while playfully laughing at the comparisons in our bodytypes. She's got the brains while I have the tits. Ever seen a guy completely engulf a girl with his arms? Plus, I've got Sara running her heart out. Seeing how I love a girl that puts her health into perspective instead of just sitting on her ass, score!

A lot of money to save up. A lot of wondering if these dreams will happen. A lot of changes that have to begin somewhere. First comes a digital camera, then the lcd HD TV, and then it's onto saving up big. No more fucking around. My comic collection to be sold next year will help start this as well. At first, I was playing around with using that to plan a trip to Paris with Sara. I'm thinking all over the place and it won't stop. Only trouble is is that New York is definite and even involves us getting tattoos. More on that later.

Something happened to me in the gym today that had me thinking like this. A mirror was in front of me as I worked on my lower back to end my workout. What I was doing was, while my legs were stable, bending over and raising up constantly in repetitions of 13. Not easy when you weigh 200 pounds at only 5'10. The look I was getting was completely off because my face was nothing but complete anger. Something's been building up in me and this wasn't me seeing myself in that mirror.

Reading a bit of Dear Diary put things in perspective. You know me. I get a kick out of reading people that see the horrible events as something worth sharing because our past always teaches us. Well, I should know because, like you, I've had embarassing moments up the wazoo. Only I didn't get involved with heroin as Lesley Arfin did. Brave book in taking the time to publish her diary all while going back and interviewing the people responsible for how she felt at that time.

I'm trying to think I'm not so worthless. My addiction to the gym is so odd in how it can control my attitude towards myself. No endorphins clouding my brain and I'm on the hunt for some kind of fix where my mind is on something I'd like. Leaving. It's weird how I was once so scared of the unknown that all those times spent with Sara and her parents have me much calmer. Plus, I really like that Cold Stone ice cream place when they put waffle cone sprinkleys in my order of birthday cake ice cream. Happy twats all around.

Maybe I'm Not Here

"...But you're under the powers that be; you're supposed to just roll over and salute the very forms that make your cannon fodder. Like, what the fuck is anybody doing about Bush? How can a fascist dictator like that run this country, and there seems to be nothing, no matter who you vote in, that can stop him doing what he wants? I don't see any demonstrations, any student riots. Because sending young boys over there to get murdered for nothing is unacceptable to me."

-Johnny Rotten

We could go over what a sun-shiny nice day it was. Really. The sky was so perfect and the air was nice with only a slight hint of humidity. 5-Pound Phooey had a great time barking at 2 small schnauzers and scared away ducks. Her highest point was getting her usual smacking on the face from a Himalayan cat that always waits for us in its owners' sunroom. When 5-Pound Phooey and I walk by, there it is perched so we allow the hissing to begin. What you need to do is picture a small dog jumping up and down while a cat on a table swats and smacks through a screen window.

Am I okay today? Nope. I'm feeling quite rotten, actually. It's depressing since this is my time of year, Fall. Well, it may not be completely on this change just yet but I feel it in the air. No more sweat dripping down from me as I walk in the door from the daily walks. No more having to change t-shirts after wiping my face while on said walks. Just can't realize any form of happiness, eh?

But I'm just not happy. I keep wondering why I feel like a disappointment to people. Or better yet, why I don't warrant the love I once got. My parents kind of started this over my birthday yet it's only the past 3 or 4 years that I notice it more. No birthday wishes. Just money to spend. Whoopee-de-doo-dah. It's the same on Christmas and Easter only brings me to pure hatred since I cannot eat chocolate. 3 words: chocolate rabbits and Cadbury eggs.

Nobody sends me anything anymore. This isn't out of wanting things but wondering why I bother doing things for people. It's a matter of being curious as to whether they know what you enjoy or what gets you started. Sara's the closest thing I have because with her I don't get money. I get little knick-knacks that she has a feeling I would want to wear or play with. Hell, I'm wearing the Miller High Life t-shirt she gave me. Money is tough for her so I respect that she found something I would use. I've already told you that I spoil the hell out of her. It was really shocking to see Sara want to wear diamond earrings 4 days in a row when this she never wears something that many days out of a week.

Hi, how are you? I don't care. Bye.

That's why I was so goofy-happy when I was sent pictures by a fellow Diarylander. These weren't ordinary pics but of something I mentioned long ago, a slight joke between us. Fuck money! Let's have fun and I realize that by her sending me these things I wonder if I matter to others. My parents never got it. Why does Sara's mom get it? Here I am at Christmas time and she gives me a box of jelly beans. Do you realize how much that meant to me? I was so overjoyed at feeling like I was noticed all during the chaos that is Christmastime. When Sara's roommate came back to the apartment, there was an issue over her gifts. I totally got that said issue but I've very rarely ever torn off wrapping paper so I was still high on that at the time.

So, I no longer feel like I matter much. This happens when I'm depressed and have such time to think. I'm no longer interested in doing things for people. It was nice while it lasted. There were good times but we're grown up now. Let's all be into our own lives. Put on some music and be happy that you don't have to deal with pesky people.

Spin Magazine. How I love and loathe you like a madman insisting on putting ducks in his pockets. Johnny Rotten, the interview, got me to stop questioning my right to be cynical. It may be only temporary that I wonder how loopy I've gone but, man, this guy totally gets it when it comes to life. The more cynical you are, the more you love our world. It's the quiet ones that think we should be quiet that need to be put in a box and returned to sender.

Now, I didn't grow up during the punk period. I only came across it when it was on its way out yet the Sex Pistols did far more damage to cause people to question authority than Republicans would like. Sure, it wasn't an all-time high of mine to sit on my cousin's bed and be mesmerized by a picture of Sid Vicious with obvious needles shown under his jacket. It's just this was the beginning of my time to question things going on in this world. Some of us don't want it to decay under a guy that bragged about being a 'C+' student.

To fight your way out of things, you have to have a small amount of arrogance and a habit of taking in filth all while filtering out what is lackluster thinking. In other words, read it all but with an absolute ability to question. This is why so many people fail. They'll read, write, or talk all while not ever going beyond their basic boundaries. In each life, even the most boring should find themselves with some porn and a cookbook because the 2 make for a better night than talking about the neighbor's cat's diet. That's what things seem to be like on blogs, too. I want to know what really tickles your mind and makes you angry.

Now, I love to read but have rarely found authors worth their grain of salt. Harry Potter is great to take me away but not something that makes me spin around the room. Fun, yes. The writer of 'Fight Club' had a tendency to make me wonder if those overly masculine guys realize that their attitudes suggest complete homosexuality according to him. A man should never use the word 'futon?' Interesting. More fantasy figures? Ogres? Hardly original but entertaining as Harry Potter is. Stephen King? Brings back bad memories of being too scared to move after 'The Boogeyman' short story. Good stuff but I also like a complicated book like 'The Invisible Man.' That's where I may need a little help because not all is as it seems. Walter Mosley can be pretty deep but even Fitzgerald got underneath my skin.

My comparison to all things is like an Ashlee Simpson album held up against an old goodie like Elvis Costello. One one side you have manufactured pop overdone to sell and make money. People are constantly tweaking various things to make it sound better or just to hide horrible retched singing along to lyrics that are pure fluff. On the other hand, you have a guy dissing censorship, writing his own songs, telling authority to fuck off while playing live, and writing an impressive complication of songs. One is an ode to his mother's alzheimer's while another could be how great it was living on a street with history. This is what Johnny Rotten and I have issues with. No one wants to think anymore and life is all hunky-dory thanks to 500 channels to keep the ignorance alive. I suck. So sorry.

I'm in such a depressive state right now after writing this. It's not easy to feel confused or if I matter these days. During my favorite time of year, this is just plain stupid. I seriously thought that it would be nice to shoot myself because I don't feel like there would be anyone to notice. A long time ago, my life was perfect and it's the last 4 to 5 years that have tested me more. All I can say is that I have a feeling that moving to Indiana is the best idea ever. Happy twats all around.

Me Riding In Garbage Truck

"Keep asking questions about everything or it'll become a religion."

-Me

So, I'd like to take a moment to make a call to the bridge. The full report comes with soreness based in my shoulders, chest, triceps, back, and the bottoms of my feet. I'll be damned if 5-Pound Phooey's gonna chew me out for missing any sort of walk because I'm hurtin'.

Don't get me wrong. I love going for walks. It's just that with people being so busy (also known as "laziness," at times), there are moments where it is incredibly lonely. Every now and then, it is fun to find yourself with the park to myself but there are times I wonder why everyone seems so more in love with watching TV. I'll walk by various houses to find big screens on to a moronic sitcom like 2 And A Half Guys. C'mon, you've pretty much seen every Seinfield episode by now! Get out there and take the 4-legged friends for a walk and meet my tiny ball of fire, 5-Pound Phooey. She just loves to take major paw hits by Himalayan Persian cats but keeps coming back for more.

People talk about things in some sort of alien language I don't quite get. Lately, it's been about how brave Alan Greenspan is in criticizing George Bush in his new book. Please, he's like all the other fucking cowards. Wait til work is done and then unleash all hell on a moron written by a yes-man.

I'm not that afraid of confrontation. Hell, I love it! Gimme more! I'm for and against women getting their tits out in public to feed their kids. It's not the sight of 'em but at certain moments where I'm against such a thing. Restaurants? No, I'm eating. You call breastfeeding normal. Well, so is masturbating. Do you want me to do that in your soup? While we're at it, I'd really like to rest my penis in your pea soup. Breastfeeding in a library is fine. Do it in a toy store as well. Just, please, do not bring your titties out while my girlfriend is getting on my case that I, once again, moved all my veggies to the side of my plate but didn't avoid the lobster muffins.

Why do you need assault rifles that kill 30 squirrels in less than a second?

Why are you allowed to question me questioning religion? I think you've gone bat shit in thinking that Jeezus is the reason and, no, I don't give a fuck what he would do. Stop praying and start studying the country you want to bomb.

Jesse? Al? Help a brotha out, yo. Get your big black asses down to Florida and help OJ get back on his feet. It's amazing how this guy got away with murdering 2 people but just might go to prison for a 'sing operation' gone wrong. Sometimes, black people really do belong in prison, especially those that gang up on a white prick. Man, that's embarassing to think that it took that many to take down a white boy, though.

Oh, yeah. It should be 'Save Britney's kids' and not 'Save Britney.'

For those of you that think it is funny to laugh at how I take my shoes off when I do abs, I say lighten up a bit. I'm doing it right. My stomach is flat. Yours is......well, hanging out in a lot of places. Besides, I have sexy socks now. No more holes.

Blogging. Learn to do it right. Fat chicks, please keep your tops on. Breasts are not considered breasts if they are touching the floor while you are standing there. Your cunts generally look like two slices of bologna wedged up in your crotch. Oops, you say you lost a sandwich the other day! You don't say! As for typing, learn to spell and write complete sentences. It's like o.m.g. you are so making me r.o.f.l. when I come across your jpgs.

Enjoy porn as it was intended. Don't deny it when you find yourself checking out someone's crotch while being one of the 33% that would rather be on the 'Net than with a person. When I come across a big gaping wet vagina, I take a mental picture and enjoy the warm sensations it provides. I like naked chicks but I also like a lot of things in life. However, I'd rather be with the real thing. Fuck your girlfriend instead of banging your weiner on the Ikea table.

Gawd, I'm a mess. Sara's at a play so that's why I'm here at home for now. Last weekend was a lot of work for her at cleaning up the apartment. The room's been done but the bathroom needed some tweaking, major tweaking. Time spent with me would be just a smidgen so I'm fine with being here all by my lonesome. Well, just me and the goddamn Nintendo Wii that is begging me to make it my bitch. Bowling's the game and bowling it shall be. Tomorrow, if I'm feeling up to it, I'll list the Top 10 reasons to love sex. Blame it on the movie, Immortal Beloved. Who knew Ludwig Beethoven was so damn good at making me feel randy. Happy twats all around.

Save Lives. Keep Jesse Out

"You know what I am? I'm your worst fuckin' nightmare. I'm a nigger with a badge which means I got permission to kick your fuckin' ass whenever I feel like it."

-48 Hours

You know what? That's one of the best quotes ever when it comes to how a person feels when presented in an environment of obvious racism. I've heard people quote this but they never got it right, when Reggie (Eddie Murphy when he was funny) walks into a honkytonk bar to look for an escaped convict.

So, I see things have heated up on the ol' racial problem once again. Not surprisingly, we find Jessie Jackson and big-ass Al Sharpton trying to get us all started up over something we should pretty much keep our noses off, the infamous Jena 6. Okay, we've got some nasty pricks that think it's funny to hang nooses around a tree. Definitely something to suspend kids for a day or two over. However, it gets a little deeper when some black teenagers gang up on 1 white kid by putting some major hurting on him. Justice? Sometimes, I just wish we'd see that there are some problems that should be solved locally, even if it looks like there is a possibility of a racist prosecuter/judge.

We had Jesse Jackson in town some years ago when 7 black teenagers were suspended from their high school. Why? There was a major riot started by these kids. Jesse came in with his posse of yes-men and away we went, dividing the town here and there. It was when a local parent sent in videotape of the incident that a lot of us found ourselves scratching our heads. This was not some little riot that these black teenagers started. This was full-on war. Not only did these kids deserve to be suspended but held on charges for jail time. When someone attacks your kids/family with obvious disregard, you'd think it stupid, too, when Jesse Jackson is using popularity to stir up shit.

Ask any white kid about driving through an all-black neighborhood and you'll get the same response as a black kid walking through a small town of dominant white folks. It's crazy to think but you've really got to see Bald-O's town of just over 600. I've yet to see a black person there but you're gonna find a lot of rap playing when there's a barnyard dance that consists of a lot of teenage farmers holding Bud Lights. Corona's just too expensive to want to throw up so it's treated like Cristal.

Note: Cristal? Ask your local rapper for more information on this $300/bottle form of champagne. It tastes so smooth going down, baby.

Yeah, I know I come across as a bit of a racist or pigheaded here and there. My mistake, or most recent, was bitching about dogfighting being so much more in the black community. This is true the more you go up north, though. It's just that a lot of things I say in here I say just the same to the black guys I work out with, many you'd be afraid to talk to thanks to tattoos along gigantic muscles. I'm finding that more and more black guys are pissed at how Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton think it's their job to speak for all blacks even if their attempts to put any sort of honor in their speeches falls. That's not to say that Al and Jesse don't know what they are doing. They're good speech writers and impressive at getting noticed in their expensive suits while the people around them can barely afford a can of peas or barely show any sort of smarts. A lot of those at these types of rallies can't even spell 'peas.' I'm proud of the badass black guys I work out with and, yes, we debate here and there so support your local 22-inch rim lover today.

As for me, I've been playing a little bit of Wii because boys do weird things when bored. At first, I was just going to let it sit in the box to wait for my next trip to Indiana. Temptation and razors seem to come at me pretty bad. Hook'd the damn thing up in less than 5 minutes because I was born to bowl. I'm sure people walking into my backyard think it weird that a white boy is making strange motions towards the TV screen but, hey, I nailed 500 pins! Wii is just too much fun to leave in a box.

However, the Wii has a tragic side. It makes me extremely competitive. When Sara hit more homeruns than me, I had to do whatever it took to get the highest number and, yes, soon enough her 4 were eclipsed by my 6 out of 10 swings. Sara did have a blast laughing at me not being able to hit the ball out of the park, a former baseball player, too.

Speaking of Sara, I've got her following a workout plan. It's hard to tell if it's working because I don't get to see her enough to keep tabs. It's basically 20 something minutes on the treadmill and 40 doing machines. According to my friends that are trainers, the best thing to do is do every body part each day by starting with the top. In other words, shoulders is first and calves would be last. I'd do abdominals last but to each his/her own in that section.

So, with all that in mind, I still have no idea if I'm off to Indiana tomorrow. If I'm here, it's the usual and I've got a mind to do some light shopping or see Resident Evil: Extinction for free. Me, always a fan of the female that can carry two super sharp blades to kill zombies created by the Umbrella Corporation. It's so sad when a boy resorts to seeing this as his only form of sex. Forget a 24-hour showing of Deep Throat. Give me Mila! Happy twats all around.

Finished Vroom Vrooming

"Okay, we're pretty clear on what you didn't do. How 'bout enlightening us on what you did do."

-Death Proof

Pretty fucked up day. When you find yourself on your knees wiping off the face of a small dog, you've gotta ask yourself one question: "Do I feel like I'm cleaning up a 2-year-old that just smeared food all over its face?"

5-Pound Phooey's got major issues about a person cleaning her up. To her, walking around with matted hair and a messed up personality are all about the life of one top bitch. I've told you thousands of times about her attitude issues when it comes to other animals, namely cats and squirrels. There is also the fact that 5-Pound Phooey will not allow me to clean her up, especially her face. That's just what I did today, took the time to force her to allow me to clean up a major amount of old eye gunk that turned into a small piece of charcoal near her tear ducts. Ugh, it was nasty!

So, the rest of the time, when I decided to allow 5-Pound Phooey some rest from pulling out gunk, she would pout. No little licks or playfulness. It was all about 5-Pound Phooey making it known that I should feel awful. My dog, the best at getting to me where it hurts, knows how to pull my strings like a fucking child. Only dog owners with dogs that have long hair know what I'm talking about when it comes to cleaning up their faces.

It's getting close to time for me to find myself at work and life would take a little bit of a chunk away from me. As I said before, there just won't be this easy ability to just take off for Indiana so I wonder just how romantic I will be when it comes to that drive. Now, I get weekends off but they begin slightly later than others'. 6:30pm and I'm out the door with the pedal to the metal on the interstate. Weird to wonder what I'll feel when I find my way there.

Aint that romance? You've got a guy driving just over an hour to see his girl. Well, there is that big reason in being that Sara has epilepsy so she can't take the time to get here......yet. But hey, how would you feel knowing your boy makes his way to see you whenever the opportunity arises?

Remember Richard? Well, he's that guy that looks like he's smuggling a globe underneath his sleeveless t-shirt in my gym. It's been a while since I've seen him but what a night! We got into a conversation about Motley Crue because I told him about Nikki Sixx's "Heroin Diaries" that I've been reading. Quite an addictive book even if you do find yourself asking why a guy that should know better started this addiction to heroin.

Richard starts laughing because he has history with Motley fucking Crue. Hell, he worked on one of the tours and even built the caged drum set that went out into the crowd for Tommy Lee. Damn, that's cool because I never forgot about that when witnessing it in a video. How would you feel about being turned upside down while playing the drums and thousands of people are underneath you cheering you on? Richard also adds that he never really talked to the band because, back then, they were such drug addicts that it would be pointless. From reading "Heroin Diaries," I can tell you that I'd agree. Nikki would hide in his closet because armed little people were wondering his lawn after he took too many drugs. I'm always hoping that little green people would steal my socks for fuel to explore the galaxy.

I get it, though. I'm an addict, too. Of course, my addiction is a better one, one that a lot of people don't see as being great. I work out and cannot spend more than a week without a gym to unleash my frustrations. Sara's seen me get grumpy and not feeling as sexual. How can I? I'll try to avoid the mirrors if I've not had a chance to feel my muscles tighten. Mornings are easy because I'm alway feeling so good. Nights? Only when I've lifted some poundage do I feel like sticking things inside Sara's sticky spot.

I'm just not feeling very inspired right now. I thought that Quentin Tarantino's Death Proof would help. Normally, a movie with strong female characters is like a 'wet dream' for me. There's something about girls that can talk shit about life, sex, and face down evil stuntmen all while looking good. C'mon, would this movie be possible if lardass chicks with 'shelves' for crotches had done it? Hell, they'd probably stop at a buffet and then get back in the car to battle the evil stuntman played by Kurt Russell.

I dig Quentin for writing strong female characters. I'm one of those guys that gets so mad at a girl for not taking her high heels off when chased by a serial killer. "Run, bitch, run!" can be heard in my mind. I totally loved it when the girls fought back and took turns punching the fucker out at the end. Can you tell that I could write a loooong entry about Kill Bill if given the time and feeling the flow of creativity?

Still don't know if I'm going to take off for Indiana this weekend. It's kind of major because Sunday night has the Cowboys versus the Chicago Bears. Guess who has a Bears jersey just itching to be put on. Yeah, me, fool. Sara's dad loves football and we enjoy hassling each other over things since he's a Indianapolis Colts fan. Oops, sorry. I try not to talk sports in a girly place like the blog but I just can't help myself. I'm still mad at my brother, want sex, and hate how the wind messes up my hair while I wait for 5-Pound Phooey to finish taking a dump outside. Happy twats all around.

I'm Gonna Ass You Nicely

"The woods are lovely
dark and deep.
And I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep."

-Robert Frost (as heard in Death Proof)

Aint that the shit, yo? You find yourself completely calm after a day spent doing everything, shopping, a little of the usual upkeep, and time spent staring at people you think might be worse than England's soccer hooligans.

Oh, how I love orientations. Yes, I have myself a j-o-b so Lil Miss Ball-Breaker can keep her lips zipped up. The best part is looking around at people you may or may not be working with to help keep the ship running. We've got thugs, pretty girls, Nascar addicts, and black guys unafraid to wear colors that in the 80's would have considered them gay. Ah, loves the uneducated and their wacky ways to seduce my mind! Gimme more!

I start work next week, 2 hours of training and then I'm on my own. Nice, huh? I'll be making more than Sara, something I've already mentioned to her that has her annoyed. While there are those of you wondering why I'm happy, I'll make it known as to why. My old job was one of the worst where I had to deal with the most idiotic of co-workers you've ever seen. The generation I started with had enough by the time I was on my 3rd year. Me, I was complaining after the second thanks to people that would make you run away, Clown and Crotch Rot.

Note: As much as I hate to say this, Sammy, you would not enjoy working near a person that bathes only once every 2 weeks. It's nice that you seem to be able to handle the smell of underarm odor or ass better than I, it's still a polite thing to clean yourself up before going to work. Customers are best kept by promoting a form of cleanliness. The smell of ass is personified if you have to work with him/her on a ladder and your face is underneath that stinky ass.

Oh, how I miss the potential for disaster. New work. New people. New methods. New ways to stay alive. It's all here as I get through the 5-day a week grind where my spoiled days of just driving off to Indiana come to an end. Weekends. Oh, how Sara is not happy with all this because, yes, there are moments where a girl just wants to be fucked silly in her bed. Ah, be the man when there is something in the air.

Namely, an ass in need of deep penetration after watching a TV show on a fictional serial killer.

As for shopping, I had to get my piano-playing-hands on Quentin Tarantino's Death Proof. Ever seen it? Quentin and Robert Rodriguez tried to bring back the old days of grindhouses where the movie prints were scratched and sound distorted. Trust me. If you've ever had the amazing experience of being forced to watch a film or short put upon you by a projector, you'll get it. Then again, you could have been one of those that bragged about attending a New York movie theater in the 70's where you ended up stuck to the seat thanks to a large 'wet spot' you hope was some Mike N Ikes. It's amazing how places like that, including the porno palaces, are considered to be a part of history.

I liked Death Proof. Some called it a bit as being too 'talky' and not enough action. Hello? This movie is about a bunch of girls stalked by a mad stuntdriver that uses his car to kill. When you get a bunch of girls together, something I know A LOT about, the place is always noisy and full of squeals and giggles. This is the sex that tells us guys we are a bunch of perverts when deep discussions on which boyfriend has the biggest balls/dick/ejaculation constantly come up to a roar of more giggles. Either those or the dreaded downer of tampon talks. Nothing sends boys running away like bringing up who's flowing and which tampon glides in best.

Note: Boys only know dirt, talk about football, and who's mom they'd like to fuck when given a list.

But Death Proof is pretty neat. I'm used to being around a large sect of girls since Sara has her friends all get together every now and then. We talk pussy, dicks, and movies in a way that you'd be jealous. No one's afraid of using 4-letter words or of offending each other. It's all been said and done but when you add a serial killer with a 'death proof' car, it gets fun. Baby, I never thought they'd bring back Kurt Russell as the coolest cat but they did. There's something about a character that enjoys tickling a girl's foot prior to trying to kill her a few hours later. How many serial killers do the ol' tickle thing?

Yeah, I felt kind of ripped off that they didn't include the other flick with Death Proof, Planet Terror. I was more into that one because I enjoy the occasional zombie flick where a girl loses her leg only to add a machine gun in its place. But how many people can handle sitting there for almost 4 hours as they did to watch Grindhouse? Times have changed since the 70's as the digital age has us bring work home with us or the freeways are too clogged up to get home on time.

Found a neat little blog written by a porn star. I'm always finding weird stuff thanks to the people that spend their days/nights looking for something to jerk off to. If you look past the graphic pictures of her having sex with her husband, peeing on each other, panties with 'skid marks,' upclose butthole pics, and the occasional cum bubbles, it's pretty good. Why? Let's just say that pets, those with personalities, can make anything better. How many times have my socks and undies been stolen by my dogs? Remember that the only reason I do like porn stars in interviews is because many are so unguarded in what they say that it's refreshing to find someone not so manufactured as they are in Hollywood. How many of you want to ask Britney if she's a drug addict or just plain retarded?

My brother still has not given me my birthday card. Is it any wonder I look forward to him leaving for North Carolina next week? My mom wants me to keep in touch by email but why? He doesn't talk to me and doesn't seem to care about this family that I don't even know him. While I'm used to a small family, I find myself seeing Sara's parents as more like friends that take the place of what I wanted. Dad and I discuss football just like he misses having some testosterone in that house. Even the cats are all female. What's a armchair quarterback to do? Grab Ultrarooster and sit him down in the living room to yell at the screen with, that's what!

So, I'm outta here as I debate whether I am going to Indiana Friday. The girls have tickets for a play that Sara wishes I could attend with them. Worried about me being alone for up to 2 hours? Please, boys enjoy a little freedom away from girls at some point during the day. Remember how I shaved myself out of boredom? Things like that happen when a boy is bored, alone, and away from his girlfriend but these things need to take place. We have to learn that girls will not always be there to insist we used shaving cream for stunts like that. Happy twats all around.

Just Thinking.......On A Star

"Insanity runs deep in the company that I keep.
Insanity runs deep in everyone but me.
My padded walls you call my eyes,
my dreams that you call my lies.
Around my wrists my shackles lay.
Razor blades and cocaine to pass the time away."

-Nikki Sixx

Now, I almost see myself as an addict. One of my favorite blogs just locked itself up. Damn, I love it when there is someone else just as cynical towards the world that somehow finds the time to share very insightful thoughts on idiotic celebs. Never really thought of Jennifer Lopez as a girl that looked like a fucking Hispanic hotel worker but to each their own. Big butts that are obviously full of cellulite never turned me on anyway.

Do you ever go for walks? I do everyday but that's pretty much a have-to thanks to a little demon with a hairy ass and a need to tell me to get up off my ass. Yes, my dog takes advantage of my submissive ass by insisting there are trees to piss on and butts to sniff.

Walks really ground me because, whenever I don't have to apologize for 5-Pound Phooey's need to make every other dog jumpy by shouting out 4-letter doggie words, I think a lot. Oh, and I mean lots! I tend to trivialize with myself as to which drug would most likely make me an addict. Would I change anything if I could go back in time? Would I have a mistress if I lived in France? Could I ever beat my timed continuous 43-minutes of sex ? What would be my scariest situation in life? Can someone top Sir-Mix-Alot's "Baby Got Back" by making an even better ode to a woman's buttocks? Do I really need those 84 pairs of Air Jordans? Would someone that knows my blog ever send me a birthday gift other than those amazing pictures? Do I see myself being okay with married life? Would I ever answer the door butt-naked when a Jehovah's Witness comes to the door?

Fun Questions to pass the time away:

1). On a scale of 1 to 10, how famous are you? Well, I do get a lot of hits here and there when it comes to this blog. I'd give myself a 2 since there are an awful lot of people that will not place me on their fucking faves list even though they come here so much. Pisses me off but we already know that.

2). What one thing do you do better now than anyone else you know? Stay sane. Ever since I've been with Sara, I've noticed that I am so relaxed and grounded in life. There is no worrying about whether I'm still hip or cool. I've got a girlfriend that adores me and keeps me out of trouble by showing me how the best of times is to watch an episode of House in a big leather couch on a plasma.

3). What is the worst thing you've ever put in your mouth? Don't go there. I'll never admit to doing it even if I did tell Sara once. Kristan was nasty and that's all I can say because it really involved my tongue and needing to explore a woman's body. I did eat an ant once.

4). How much is a pint of milk? Don't know and don't care. I've not touched milk for years. Sara tries to get me to drink a little from her glass but na-da.

5). What's your favorite word in the English language? Anarchy? Mayhem? Quim? Oh, sorry. Quim is a Mediterranean word for pussy. A lot of my favorite words I cannot come up with start with a "V" like villain and vindictive.

6). When were you last naked outdoors? Let's see......when did Sara and I visit that park? It's been a long time unless you count the fact that she enjoys unzipping me while I drive. The girl is bad, folks.

7). What's your earliest memory? The crib. No, seriously. I shocked my mother years ago by describing my activity center placed on the left of my crib and even remember my dad coming in to pick me up. Most of my memory's amazing abilities come from images that I tend to capture with my eyes like first meeting Sara, time spent in Montreal, Canada, cartoons during Christmas time, and needing to lay on the ground after too much soda at my cousin's.

8). You're at karaoke-what's your song of choice? Better yet, what will I not sing if I've had one too many? Gotta go with a classic here by saying Poison's "Every Rose Has Its Thorn" or Madonna's "Live To Tell." Both are kind of depressing but I enjoy that feeling because sometimes it's good to feel that way. Garbage's "Only Happy When It Rains" also comes to mind because, dammit, there are times where a guy can mimic a short gal in a short skirt that knows how to rock the mic.

9). What do you do when you die? Nothing. Not a damn thing. That's why I say enjoy life because you might come back as a flower to be pissed on by my dog.

10). If you had to be stuck in the lift with a celebrity, who? I swear I could chat up George Clooney like a goofy fool that I am. I've admired his demeanor even if Sara hates him quite a bit. If it's a sex thing and I'm single, the only obvious choice is Keira Knightley. That woman oozes sex appeal with me but I've always found her to be smart in her interviews and dream of being her bicycle seat.

11). Have you ever Googled yourself? Long, long ago. I've not whims of thinking myself worth the time.

12). What was your first movie crush? Hard to remember.........hmmmm. I'm going to have to say that Phoebe Cates in Fast Times At Ridgemont High would be quite an early one. Took me a while to see why the movie is so classic because I only saw it for it's zany sense of humor and great tits on Phoebe. I was so upset when I didn't get to see Porky's with my dad because I was hoping to see some major bush. That dentist appointment was so disappointing.

13). What was the first prize you ever won? Do we have to go there again? A Strawberry Shortcake coloring contest brought me a fancy pair of strawberry knickers that got a major sniffing. Yes, I have a problem with loving the smell of strawberries and, yes, those panties were worth every long amount of time spent inhaling them.

14). What Scooby-Doo character do you identify with? Velma or Thelma? I had a crush on her for years. Yo, that bitch was fine! Why anyone wanted that weak-ass Daffney was beyond me. You just know that Velma had a fantastic pair of tits hidden behind that enormous sweater just itching to be watched going up and down as she was chased by a sea monster. Plus, nobody understood her genius as well as I. Fred was a dork. Scooby was cool but too scared of everything. Shaggy had issues with being stoned all the time. Velma was just about to come into her sexuality as was I at the time of hoping for a glimpse up that skirt. Yes, it was a cartoon. Yes, I was weird thanks to Captain Crunch on Saturday mornings.

15). What is in your pocket now? I always empty out my pockets when I get home. I'm always out with my wallet, key chain, and Altoids or gum. Always. I used to carry a butterfly knife just to flip around when I was bored. After a few scratches and sharp pokes, I got very good at it and even got other people to want to learn.

So, there you have it. I'm outta here as I await my day in orientation tomorrow. It sounds like I've got the job but that will not begin til the 24th. Might head on out to Indiana this Friday and be back on Sunday night just to help relax myself a bit. After spending a disappointing birthday dinner with just my mum, I need this. You know why I like gifts? Because after spending years of receiving money, it makes me feel good if anyone gets me something because I always wonder how others see me. It matters in that I wonder if people even remember me, at times. Am I worth the trouble after doing things for them? Happy twats all around.

Don't Pussy Out On Me

"Power is an aphrodisiac."

-Winston Churchill

So, it feels like we're right back where we once started. OJ Simpson's in jail and Hilary Clinton is being punished over her health care beliefs. Who says the U.S. doesn't learn?

But you don't want to know what I think of all that. Do you? It's becoming the same old, these days. I don't think Americans really care about what is going on in the news unless it involves a celebrity or we're forced to listen. CNN is pretty much all OJ these days and last week was all about Britney's attempts to dance while drunk. Did you know that there is an area that used to be all ice but it's now melted for any ship to get through? Oops, I did it again. You learned something more important than Ashlee Simpson's involvement in a brawl.

It's sex, baby. You know you dream about it and think about at some point during the day. Don't deny it just because you are female. I've learned from the best of them that all girls think hot filthy things at some point when work or life has them bored. Even the most intelligent male can turn on a girl thanks to knowing the right words to use over text messaging after reading dirty porn sites. C'mon, those that work at home visit 'em at some point and it's been shown that over 60% were females looking.

But sex has changed for me. I was taught that to bed a girl meant being sweet and kind to her. It wasn't just the nuns in my first sex ed. class but movies where you see the hero, one that carries her up to the bedroom. He, then, proceeds to kiss the rescued maiden slowly all while disrobing her to the point that clothes are not torn in any way. Most likely, if the movie is on free TV, the camera would pan out right before penetration. If it's cable, you'll see her eyes wince as he does the deed.

Well, I don't know about you but I've lost 2 good pairs of undies, been scratched all along my back, had my ass smacked so hard that I thought I was in a torture chamber where I was being questioned over religious beliefs, seen my sneakers thrown all over the room, watched as she sucked my cock while peeing, grabbed into a bathroom and slammed up against the wall after minding my own business at a party if only to be kissed, and many more things that I'm not sure if you can handle because that all depends on your sexual tastes.

As many of you know, I have a nymphomaniac for a girlfriend. Her name is Sara and she is so filthy that I don't think even 5 guys can satisfy her sexual needs. A boy is going to have to let her play with his penis at all times. This means that Sara wants to watch him cum hard all while being able to handle her playing with it while driving. When she wants an orgasm, she really, really wants an orgasm. There are times I know I'm gonna bleed but, dammit, I want it to be on my terms.

This is what I learned during my last visit in Indiana. Sara was in the mood after watching a cable TV show on DVD. Never mind the fact that it was Showtime's Dexter, a serial killer the just so happens to be working for the FBI. I was forced down on the bed, stripped, stroked, and ridden. Serial killer TV shows just might bring out the tiger in her but they only make me docile until.............

I needed control. It was here that I was mad at Sara, a good thing, mind you. No longer would I be forced to lay there and take what she dished out. I (yes, moi) ordered Sara to bend over and get fucked doggy style and then from the side. Oh, it was heaven to sink my cock in her while this very submissive girl was more than happy to be ordered around. There was a lot of noise as my balls flew in different directions and the sweat came pouring down. What the hell happened to me!?!

I've known we all want different things in bed. In fact, I've got hunches on various people I've known over blogs when it comes to what they like. Who gets spanked? Who gives fantastic head? Who likes getting dressed up? For me, I used to be confused as to what Sara wanted because I always saw her way of submissiveness as seeing herself as nothing but a hole for me to stick my dick in. That's just not me because I saw sex as something fun to do but not the entire relationship. Various things happen and sometimes no one cums like they do in the movies.

I get it a little more now and have even found myself enjoying sex like a caveman. Yes, doggy style is incredibly moving at times. Since we guys are so obscenely visual, there is that sensation of seeing our cocks disappear inside pussies. They go in all veiny and long but come out sticky and shiny. But to women that enjoy being dominated, it's all about doing what the male wants in order to please him all while being pleased. It took me a while to realize that, seriously.

So, why don't they show this in movies? The closest is Mr. And Mrs. Smith, for me. That sex scene where they're slamming each other around is kind of............Sara and I. Well, we haven't broken any mirrors or furniture but give us time. Sara finds Maggie Gyllenhaal's Secretary to be her favorite movie on the S & M needs of a submissive. Beware when seeing this movie because it takes a certain type to handle it.

That's not to say I don't enjoy the usual type of sex. Oh, I do enjoy slipping my cock in slowly instead tearing her pussy apart. It's always fun to see her eyes as I stroke her in a manner that I can balance being on top. What girl doesn't enjoy being able to see her boyfriend/husband/fiancee in such pleasure from her pussy's wet walls? When I first started having sex, this was what I was taught. Be respectful to the pussy and it will pleasure you majorly.

Now, there is something nice and sporty about tearing a girl's pussy apart. The problem is balance when the bed tilts but that can be easily solved by pulling her hair. Yes, Sara becomes a young lioness mounted by the largest of male lions. I'll bend down to bite her shoulder or grab a mouthful and bite down hard all while pounding her hard. Geez, sex almost seems animalistic but hey! Damn, it is kind of fun to smack her ass and turn a girl over for another position while watching my slick wet cock disappear into her. Let's not count how many calories are burned in this because I've damn near sweated out a lot by now.

What I'm trying to say is that some of us have different sexual fantasies. While I'm sure there are some of you that think Sara and I have warped minds to be fucking this way, I can assure you that this is fun. What I've noticed is that sex has become a form of play where the ending result is me with sweat dripping down, Sara too tired to talk, and the room smelling of nothing but semen, pussy juices, and the essence of orgasm. It's all there and I may have enjoyed a hard swat on my ass to get the gig started.

But domination? It is fun to have someone order me around. That's, after all, how it started for me, being shown around the bed by a 29-year-old woman while I was barely 19. Sara was surprised to hear that this woman didn't hurt me in any way but was all sensual sex. There was no blood dripping down my back and the only 'wet spots' were pussy stains and the occasional semen drippings. Could it all be with how we first start having sex? I've no idea where Sara got these sexual fantasies to be thrown around the bed like that. No other girl I've bedded behaved like that.

I do know this. It is kind of fun to tear a girl's pussy apart. There were a few porn videos I watched long ago that had this image in my mind where the woman was being pounded hard in whatever position she was in. When I was growing up, I was taught that a girl's vagina was to be treated with such delicacy and sensuality. None of that jackhammer shit. Let me tell ya, Sara had over 10 orgasms and she was proud that her pussy was very red after what I did. Giving up control can make a girl even wetter, a good thing if she wants sex like that.

The whole point is just to be taken, thrown around, and enjoyed. Everyone's turned on by various things. I've never gotten it when it came to leather, wearing costumes, or watching women pee. Those things just didn't do it unless you wanted to see me laugh at the sight of a woman squatting over the sink to piss. What I find myself wanting is to lose myself in the moment and enjoy an orgasm where Sara is just as wiped out in the end as I am. You'd swear there is beauty when 2 people on their backs and drenched in sweat are looking at each other. Towels are a must.

So, think what you will. Am I right to think that there are a certain amount of women that just want to be dominated in bed? I know for a fact that there would be a lot of males that would be scared of a girl like Sara. It's 6 orgasms a session or you're just not worth it. He's gotta be in great shape and able to handle fingernails running down his back that leave marks, being able to eat pussy from the front and back like a champ, spank hard, and throw her around the bed or tie her up. Now do you see why I get so tired from a visit to Indiana? Happy twats all around.

Sleeping With the Toaster

Sara: "Do I cuddle too much?"

Me: "No? Is the answer 'no?'"

I was going to write out this huge entry on sex, especially my thoughts on what happened recently that I only hinted about. Why not? It would have been my 100th entry and there is that brutally honest (yet very flawed) HBO show that debuted with very explicit sex. I love how I once thought that sex is so easy. You just place your penis inside the vagina, wiggle it around, and voila! Sex has been served and you now go to sleep.

But life has not been kind to me lately. I'm tired, really, really tired. This is all a part of the process of coming back from Indiana each time. There are many things to catch up on and I am have the new addition of flea bites all over my right ankle. Sara's roommate's cat has fleas since there were a few nights where you'd catch one of us holding the cat while the other would scour it with a comb to catch the little buggers. It's never fun to be on the wrong end of a blood sucker. Vampires and werewolves are cool. Fleas and mosquitoes are not.

There's just so much I have to say about sex and why it gets confusing with me. Sara's a whole other world when it comes to sticking my penis in the wet place also known in the famous play, Brighten Beach Memoirs, as"The Palace Of the Himalayas." Any movie where a young boy (played by a 25-year-old) finds himself underneath the table looking up a young lass's skirt is par for course just as this play did. You'd swear that males worship the pussy far too much. Who can blame them? It's a total mystery to us but the damn thing don't lick itself.

Just because I'm dog-tired doesn't mean I haven't been busy, yo. There's always a lot of stuff to read and since the football fans were home watching the away game.............

Picked up Nikki Sixx's biography. You know it by heart, rock stars fuck anything that moves and think the world is all about them. Sure, Motley Crue had a few decent hits like "Girls, Girls, Girls" and "Doctor Feelgood" but, for my money, I wanted to read Nikki's account of what life was like addicted to heroin. You're addicted to blogs so you might understand why I enjoy reading things that tell the good, the bad, and the ugly. I may not be into drugs. I'm just curious about a lot of things in life.

Life with 5-Pound Phooey has been one where I have yet to see it in a calmer fashion. Since the air has been cooler for this musclee 12-pounds of hair, she's been running about 75% of the walks. Great but it wears my feet out to the point that I'm sore as soon as the sneakers come off. People laugh as they drive by because it's not normal to see a small Yorkshire Terrier run like mine does. It's her walk, I just try to keep up with her now.

So, how are Sara and I? We're pretty damn good. She rearranged her room so that things are amazingly better than the old days. The floor is clean and things are put away. No more panties and socks laying about. If you know me, I'm into neatness. No problem with the room being torn apart from sex but things need to be put back soon.

Sleeping with me is like curling up with a sauna. Sara may have me sleep near the open window (the apartment was hot at the time) but it doesn't keep me from overheating. Seriously, the expensive sheets are crumpled up from me sweating on them. In my defense, I can't help this because Sara's body temp is much colder than mine. Touch her and you'll feel what I'm talking about. Her need to sleep under so many covers is impossible for me so I end up doing my best to slowly get out of them. Mind you, this is difficult when Sara starts the nightly cuddling before actually sleeping. I'm a toaster! Ah need to pile up the covers on her side and hopefully cool off soon or I dehydrate. No, there is nothing to feed your fantasies of a naked me walking to the kitchen to drink a lot of water. Sara has a roommate, a very conservative roommate.

Play that Nintendo Wii system if you get the chance. The damn thing was used a lot by Sara and I each night we had the time. So much that we went through 4 fresh batteries. Tennis, baseball, and bowling are our bag, baby. I even ended up sore in the shoulder from tennis because I swing hard at the TV. The cats, on the other hand, keep thinking I am going to kill them as I move with the game. Oh, and, yes, Sara and I argue while playing because both of us have a tendency to miss easy shots directed at our players. Video games don't cause people to kill. They just make us want to kill each other.

To tell you the truth, I don't really remember much else while in Indiana. We're pretty busy once Sara gets off of work. The day may start at 7am but once I've finished dropping her off at work, I'm dozing away thanks to cat allergies. You may think you know about cat allergies but you've never seen what they can do to me.

So, I'm going to stop here. Maybe I'll be up for a good long entry on sex tomorrow. I'm warning you here and now. It will be explicit because there are several things I want to let out and hopefully get your opinion. I've yet to see a guy read this blog so girls are perfect for knowing what they think. I'm only now learning that there are fantasies had where women enjoy being thrown around and used til there is no more to be had. Of course, there are those that enjoy having a very large muscular male dominate them, especially in doggy style. This all weirds me out because I had my first sex education done by nuns and only now do I learn that 'making love' is kinda dull. Happy twats all around.

Pass the KY

"If it ever comes to it, I'm going to start wondering if those people that come lash out at me on my blog should ever ask themselves whether Paxil is right for them."

-Me

Ah, it's good to be back! In some ways, you could say that I went through an almost Britney Spears-free week. Seriously. My only news came from Sara's need to see for herself the bomb that was dropped on the MTV VMA's and the 4 pages devoted to it in Us Weekly. Lucky for me, OJ Simpson turned into a thug and all is right in the world.

It's Friday and I'm sure there are several of you with naughty ideas in mind. Well, it is only natural to start thinking of sex when there are no worries on how awful your hair is going to be prior to waking up early. Cum does harden after several hours where it all started with an "Oops, dear!" Either he needs to have better aim or you really ought to rethink throwing off his glasses during bouts of desperate sex where even a hairy overweight male looks good.

For me, I'm just dying to lay on the floor and read comic books. Seriously. I've spent mucho time in bed all this week where there was some sex but finding out that sleeping near a window makes you want to pee more. Yes, it's cooler out there but boyfriends' warm bodies keep girls all snuggly warm. Why is my body temp so hot while Sara's is so freezing cold? We're like complete opposites in this way.

Blogging has kind of lost its edge. Wonderful to hear a good argument about how it might not be considered 'writing' that we do here in cyberspace. Keep in mind, this is from a fictional writer. Is it really all about laying out thoughts or just getting rid of frustrations? I'd like to think what I am doing is something worthwhile and constructive. Or do I sound like an upset teenage girl that cannot seem to stop criticizing her environment all while using "LOL," "ROFL," and "BRB?" Be it, tits, ass, or bush, a girl's gotta get some attention but I've got a dick. No one wants to see that, right?

Except for Sara, of course. That girl has the deepest fascination with penises in all the girls I've slept with. She can hear my zipper unzip from a mile away. I've always said that when a guy takes very good care of his body, be it gym or running, the penis will be worshipped instead of ridiculed.

It's true that a lot of things are kept from me while I'm in Indiana. Sara does not do TV. All my media will come from her parents' house or the occasional newspaper I pick up. For all of you with the need for an image, think of weird white boy sitting at the bar all alone with a copy of USA Today. That was Thursday lunch, mind you. Sara's dad normally comes to this place for lunch but Sara and I didn't know that he had a dentist appointment. Ask me about how I tried looking for him in the courthouse nearby located in deep downtown. It was so nice to see the contents of my wallet x-rayed and make people think I was seeing my parole officer (Sara's dad's occupation). I dig her dad so I went the extra mile even if the chance of me finding him would be slim due to my insane need to be weirded out by sculpted heads.

But I'm fine now. Very, very tired because my lack of getting sleep caught up with me. Sara said I passed out last night. The best impression I can give is when she mimicced me with my mouth wide open to tell me I snored. Only on Thursday night did I actually sleep because the other nights were all about having too much on my mind or receiving a very spectacular blowjob for my birthday. That type of activity just begs me to wonder how a girl learns such a productive event.

Of course, I will get into the week's activities. One thing I learned about myself comes from a sex session where I had a sudden need to control. If you are new to this blog, understand that Sara is submissive. So am I. This creates a problem that is only now seeing a slight solving. I am starting to want control and I get a wee bit aggressive as this turns Sara on. Can we have an honest discussion in saying that some women want a guy to throw them around and fuck them? I mean, really fuck them? How many orgasms are enough because Sara had at least 10.

So, I hope someone missed me. I mean, I know it seems like I don't like blogging when I'm away in Indiana. It's just that I find it hard in an area where my only info comes from the 'Net. For some reason, newspapers help my mind to start rattling off my issues. Plus, I have a girlfriend that pretty much wears me out in discussions on the world issues right before her tongue licks my spine. Happy twats all around.

Kick Out the Spears

Somehow, I allowed myself to be one of the converted. It took some time but I gave in by allowing the feminine charms to seduce me over to wearing a mud masque. Oh, but my skin was so much better afterwards! Tea and a fat-free cookie will be all about me.

Note: I did get that birthday blowjob. They are not a myth. I repeat to all males out there. Birthday blowjobs do exist!

I'm not quite sure as to when I am going home. The main thing is that I have to be here to sign in for the gym membership thingee so we all pay less. It's Sara, her dad, and I that once set up get full use of this upscale workout place. It's not bad but could use some more equipment, seeing as I hate being so close to people that are also working out. Sara's dad is out of town til tomorrow, of all times to get this started. Plus, I've turned Sara on to working out.

High five!

And if you still do not believe me that the Nintendo Wii is something of a workout machine, watch Sara and I play tennis on it. We were all over the living room for 5-9 games. I was drenched with sore back muscles because I really swing that controller to return hits. Great thing to do if you want to burn off a tasty burger bigger than the two buns stacked on top of it.

What was fun was watching Sara's mom try out the bowling game on the Wii. I was curious as to what a real bowler would think of pretending to roll a ball toward the TV's screen. Well, I got a high of 199 whereas she got a 95. Video games are a bit harder for the older folks out there to imagine pounding imaginary enemies and pins. It took a lot of persuasion for Sara to get her mom to be up for the challenge. Geez, a person has nothing to lose but the feeling of playing with thin air. It's kind of like how odd it is to find out there are air guitar bands.

Not surprisingly, Sara and I have been discussing Britney's bombing at the MTV Awards show. As bad as it was, I'm kind of disgusted how so many critics are busting out on her as being 'fat.' A little plump but it was the zombie-like performance that had me throwing a fit. If a major channel bills you as the top performance, you'd better make sure you put effort instead of blaming it all on a 'wardrobe malfunction.' What's your damage, Brit?

Sam, I disagree. We are giving idiots the chance to place their behavior into the public's eyes all too much. I may talk about but that's the problem from having it placed in front of my face each and every day. Instead of scolding, the paparazzi count how much money they'll make from another incident of Britney without panties or dropping the baby. Remember the joke in South Park? Don't kick the baby? How about millions of those with lenses hoping for just that, a million dollar shot. Look up to Paris Hilton all you want but why only give 2 college students from my town that have invented a voice activated wheelchair for advanced cerebral palsy folks only a paragraph?

I will always stand by my disgust for the obese and their chronice excuse for being that way. If Richard Simmons can do it, so can your fat fucking lard ass that spends too much time in the hospital pulling out hoagies.

So, I am outta here as I'm about to pick up Sara for her weekly bowling event. My contacts are so cloudy from the cat allergies that I can't read the newest issue of 'Playboy' or a book. Oh, and if you know my girlfriend's blog, you can read her account on having epilepsy. Happy twats all around.

Cat Turd Twat

So, I might as well get to what is on everyone's mind out there. Where was I when Britney Spears bombed at the MTV Music Video Awards?

I don't get it. Sara and I were sitting in a diner for brunch on Sunday when the subject of Britney came up. I've had a hunch that MTV was using the potential "What would she do?" game to get people to watch the lagging Video Music Awards. Why not? It seems like the basic thing to do each week, see what fucked up thing Miss Spears does next. Forget the panty-less incidents and concentrate more on her need for fast food just before a majorly shown performance.

What we are doing is rewarding stupidity. Remember how each decade seems to have its poster reference? The 80's were considered the drug decade and the 90's were were all about grunge the upcoming boy bands. It's always been my opinion that we are living in a major time of stupidity and no one exemplifies this better than our president. His court would not only consist of the usual jackasses, Rumsfeld, Cheney, and Rove, but Lohan, Anna Nicole Smith, Paris, and, of course, Miss Spears. We are making idiots famous! How do you explain that Miss Teen girl that had a sudden obsession with maps?

We no longer ridicule when this is best. We're hailing fat people instead of telling them to hide their large bellies in shame as they pass by posters of people from Darfur. We laugh when Bush makes another blunder that has Europe wondering what kind of idiot votes for this kind of idiot. We pat ourselves on the back when mileage is increased in cars but this should have been done decades ago just as easily. Gawd, our president bombed the wrong fucking country!

It's a weird world when I no longer feel like I want to be a part of it. Even Sara has to suffer the wrath of idiots at work. She just recently came home crying because of a customer, obviously wrong, decided to have her boss chew her out. Am I the only one that sees how pathetic it is for a boss to defend a rude customer instead of standing up for a good employee?

How are you? I'm sneezing and chasing fleas. Yeah, the cat has 'em and I have to watch as they have their way with my forearms. Somebody needs a flea dip but I had a shower last night. Not me but the lil person with the collar.

As for the answer to your question. I was in Red Lobster enjoying my birthday dinner, the Fisherman's Feast. Hell, it was so big that I only finished it off at lunch today. There was no raging need to watch Miss Spears falter as she always does. According to her, she's 'country' so a trip outdoors without anything to cover her cooter is okay as long as theirs a polite breeze blowin' up that fishy region that's probably as bad as a McDonald's trash heap. Only more hairy than a cat turd, of course.


Note: Would love to hear your opinions on Britney Spears.


Well, I'm outta here as I try to calm my allergies down. Sara's given me full use of her car so I must be one of the most trust-worthy boyfriends eva! Me in a grey wagon instead of my ol' hoopty travelin' the Indiana town is a sight indeed. That's almost as good as watching me walk out of the bed completely naked since I'm the one to turn out the light. I'm always waving my penis in the air like I just don't care. Happy twats all around.

Birthday Rites

"Do not wait to strike til the iron is hot; but make it hot by striking."

-William Butler Yeats

Ever had one of those days, those that start with a nasty stormy looking sky? All I could do is realize that I've overslept after waking up around 3am to sneeze out some major booger and that I'm just a little bit older than yesterday. I've rarely had a great birthday so that one moment where I was passed out on a fraternity's lawn is one that reminds me of good times.

But allow me to show you how someone you've never met can have the power to make things better. My wi-fi was not working on this computer so I decided to use my dad's upstairs one prior to my usual daily outings where I deal with errands. I'm not one to expect much due to having a family that doesn't seem to want to celebrate birthdays. You'd be surprised at how amazed I am when I see others get taken out to dinner. I'd love it if someone used noisemakers or took the time to tip some drunken Mexicans to sing 'Labamba' to me. Don't be surprised if I end up losing a sneaker to an attempt at breakdancing.

My jaw dropped. Remember, this takes a lot to do since I've pretty much seen it all in regards to life and sex. Some of the coolest and sexiest pictures were sent to me with a nice little catch. This girl remembered my love of belly buttons! I swear I took off in my car with a large smile on my face even if the day looked like shit.

How about that? C'mon, has anyone ever done something for you that made things better because he/she listened? I talk about all sorts of things in this blog, much of it very honest with a dose of insane humor. To find that someone you've never physically met (but might someday) took the time to show you she remembers meant a lot to me. I love pictures and those were H-O-T.

The rest of my day really was shit, though. There was rain pretty much all day in sporadic portions here and there. 5-Pound Phooey was grumpy towards me due to not going on a full walk where we end up in a park to chase squirrels and rat terriers. My guess is that if you've not been allowed to release a major need to bark out frustrations time is shit. Though, it was kind of funny how it started to rain in the middle of a walk. I'm sure people found it weird to see me run the rest of the way holding a small dog that munched on a cicada. Life aint lived til you've told bug who's boss.

But tomorrow will find me in Indiana. Oh, you bet I have something to look forward to! Sara's someone that is totally there for taking me out to dinner just as I did for her on her birthday. Instead of 'girly drinks,' I'd settle for something along the 6-pack variety. No, she doesn't have to get me drunk before bedding me. Things along this line just make for goofy fun when the girl has a hard time ripping a drunken boyfriend's clothes off prior to the birthday blowjob. Don't deny it. All birthday boys receive fantastic oral sex for it is in the rule book under section 46 code 23 paragraph 3.

"And it shall be known that the male, after making it fact, will receive a blowjob upon the date of his birth. There will be no female jibber jabber as she gently unzips his pants. She is, however, required to make the male extremely comfortable while setting the event with music designed for such an event. There will be no giggling if he has selected embarassingly tasteless music like Debbie Gibson, Boy George, or MC Hammer. For this is the day all males look forward to, just like Prom night, the honeymoon, a UFC championship fight, and when a sexy female celebrity is found to *accidently* release a homemade porn tape. It is the Birthday Blowjob and it will be long enough to make his toes curl and for the cat to give a very confused expression that it did when the furniture was rearranged last week."

So, I bid adieu to y'all. Thank you to all of you for the birthday wishes and pictures sent my way. All of this meant a lot to me as I finally find this day coming to an end. While I can see why some people find a shit day best to pass out with a large bottle of whiskey, I'm just happy that people listen to me and that's enough to get me through my day even if I got a lot of 'Happy birthdays' from various people in my gym. Happy twats all around.

Ah Hate Tomorrow

"Like microwave pizza?"

-House (Cameron told a male co-worker that the two of them should have sex because they are far too busy to date other people and this is the guy's response)

Our Best Buy is definitely unique. We have our own giant at 6'9' and well over 250 pounds. Sure, he's pretty fat but you can't miss him when he waves at you. Damn, it is so nice to have my very own giant find things for me when I need to shop at Best Buy. You should be jealous because he only talks to me and I even look up to him.

Ah, a small slice of heaven can be found at Best Buy. For me, this would be the place to max out credit cards or just go nuts because, although too mainstream, the place can really make your place rock. Flat screens galore! DVDs and dorks rocking out to a game of Guitar Hero every time I visit Best Buy. It's almost like a free arcade but the rest is expensive. Even better is that I know not only the giant but various people that work there so I'll always be chatting away. Some of us don't haunt chatrooms but would rather hang out with the overworked.

Ever have to go somewhere only to leave with more than you planned? Best Buy does that to me a lot. Damn mind of mine has me in need of controlling these sudden desires. While I was supposed to pick up the extra controller for the Wii, I came out with M.I.A's new CD. At $7.99, that's pretty good only I now wonder if I missed a different version with a music video. Yes, the girl is super cute, yo.

Note: No, Sammy, I disagree with you. Not all brown people are u-g-l-y. I've seen several that cause my head to turn, especially when an Indian girl wears a nose ring. What the fuck is my problem that this tiny little diamond in a nostril causes me to overlook what white people keep saying. Hardly anyone I know finds brown people hot. Just me. I also have a soft spot for a certain British actress.

It's not surprising that Sara is not completely happy that I may have a j-o-b. It may get the little ball-breaker off my little white ass but it will mean less time in Indiana. I don't know about you. Some of you are in relationships while others are very obviously upset with the current situation. I'm torn in some ways, too. Yes, I have a sensitive side when not biting the head off people that annoy the fuck out of me in blogs.

Sara's different. She's been there for me through a lot more than any other girlfriend I've ever had. There's support at all times even if we find ourselves yelling at each other over lane usage in traffic. Sara is prone to road rage. I am laid back until you really cut me off, fucker. I've had the flu and was cared for. Her parents love to have me over because I'm sure it's odd for her mother to find someone that will sit down through a session of Bravo's Top Chef and talk. In the house, the rest of the family is in the living room. I've forgotten what it's like during football season and, yes, the dad is a major fan of the Indianapolis Colts.

Note: There was no gloating over the fact that the Colts beat the Bears. Funny that our 2 favorite teams battled last year and that I, wearing a Bears jersey, was allowed to live.

As for my influence, I've got Sara working out in the gym. Never thought I'd find myself being a personal trainer since it's not something I've been taught. All my expertise was through trial and error, a lot of trial and error. So, here I sit after reading that Sara was going to hit the gym after work. It felt good that she's not only looking to get more fit but also to feel more of a control over her life. When things are lost and chaotic, a girl tends to throw a year-long fit in secrecy. I should know because I go fucking nuts if my room or house looks filthy. This boy knows how to vacuum. Just ask the 2 dogs that chase the damn machine once it's turned on.

So, tomorrow is my birthday. Big fucking deal. I'll be here until tomorrow early evening. No plans for now but I know Sara will insist on a birthday dinner. It's kind of a set-deal. I did hers on July 2nd along with expensive margaritas at the local bar. Whoo! Large male with a sissy drink! Oh, how I remember that night well because 2 fat chicks had the nerve to comment on Sara's outfit by saying the word 'hooker.' Actually, there was nothing to warrant such a comment. Fat chicks should shut the fuck up, especially those that wear wife beaters with their enormous bellies hanging out.

Remember the rule: Spandex is a priviledge, not a right.

But what do I really want? Peace within myself would be nice. I'd like the ability to just shrug things off that have nothing to do with me. Politics have me clenching my teeth. The obsession with celebrities makes me wonder how pathetic we are to worship Britney, Lohan, and Anna Nicole Smith. I like music and movies but don't wish to know everything. When I heard that Keira Knightley's bush is going to be seen in her new movie, it stung. While I'm sure it's gorgeous as most pussies go, I'm kind of protective in not wanting to come across various jackasses saying nasty things about this. Okay, I am thankful that it is revealed she actually has a bush. Go, Keira, go!

And so I bid adieu to you all. A birthday entry? Not sure. What could I possibly say to a night the same as any other? My family is super quiet so there will be no go-karts, shots with dad, porno karaoke, or the sudden need to set tables on fire. We're just one of those quiet families where it was crazy in the past. Can you beat my 21st birthday where I passed out twice? Drunk in the morning and then fucked up on a fraternity's lawn party. Well, it is something you kind of expect when your best friend's an alcoholic. I'll admit a bit of sentimental thoughts that there are people that have been with me for over 5 years. Happy twats all around.