Lost In Duck Tales

Let's just say I had a little feeling of inspiration today.........

I take it as a put-down when I hear people say that they don't care to remember their childhoods. While I can understand if there was traumatizing events like a rape or horrible death, it's the others, like me, that continue to be the characters we are all because of how we grew up. I've always been told that there is a personality that I allow people to see, if they get close to me. This is not always easy thanks to occasional moodiness. For me, the best example I can give you is what I get when I walk into my gym. There are a lot of smiles as I will suddenly just blurt out what stupid/fun/idiotic thing I have to say without beating around the bush. Richard has been my most willing victim as you'll see by the t-shirts I keep receiving from him.

You hated your childhood? Poor you. Don't want to remember being a kid or think you are too grown-up now? Most likely, you are terribly boring and belong in a cubicle for the rest of your life.

Well, I had a blast! My days were spent outside playing with GIjoes, playing tag, eating Oreos, Saturday morning cartoons with a bowl of cereal, sitting on the heat vents in the winter before school so at least my butt was warm, playing football on the blacktop, kissing nuns for the latest offense I got myself into, dying of boredom in church, hoping my first kiss, Veronica, would kiss me again, getting into deep discussions on various characters in TV shows, losing myself in the arcade thanks to the Real Ghostbusters' arcade game, having a hard time understanding the various forms of clouds in 4th Grade, seeing a naked woman in Playboy for the first time, singing along to Heathcliff & Friends cartoons, and so on. I can attest to having a very wild imagination where everything seemed like the latest thrill back then.

Do you still have it? I'm sure that after all the bills are paid there might be some inkling for a good run in the backyard's sprinkler like the old days. If not, I say sit down and mope about how hard things are. I'll be the one running around because I wasn't stupid enough to buy a plasma TV on credit when I didn't have the money in the first place. Stupid you.

One of the worst things to me is a person that is supposed to have a grand imagination (such as writers, movie makers, or storytellers) yet tells me that childhood is to be forgotten. Once pen hits paper, I'm sure to fall asleep of boredom. They never get far yet will blame society as being too fickle. No, you just don't sell because you have no desire to explore again, something that is new to you or even embrace your dark side. Tell me a story of a girl sitting on a bench? Snoozer. Tell me a story of a girl sitting on a bench dwelling on the evil staring her down from behind a tree and you should get me.

I've no problem with allowing my dark side to appear. My anger and hatred for various things that I find stupid will always be unleashed here. You might type about how you sat down to brag about how great of a worker you are over the others. For me, I'll tell you who smelled like ass and why a deaf guy's day can be better when you sign dirty words back and forth during work.

Lately, I've been going over various thoughts on continuing this blog. I said it in the last entry about how I feel like I'm talking to a brick wall. Be it, sex or politics, I wonder why people don't join in as much as they used to on my old blog. I do hate the comments section of Blogspot because of all that signing in shit that has to take place. There have been many times where I lost my train of thought when sending my own out to people.

A few times while I was in the gym doing what I do (biceps/back), I wondered what I wanted out of this thing. The obvious is to document a bit about my life. Believe it or not, a person forgets a lot more than you think. No longer do I feel close as in a community of people I wish to discuss things with or just blurt out my latest thought on movies, sex, and work. What else is there? You watch various things even if you don't have a TV. You're in a relationship so you must make sexual advances. I know this because Sara will kill me if I don't fuck her. Work, hate or love it, always brings some form of drama. I'm not special but I hate it when people tell me that I should blog differently or tell me they are better than I. Sammy did that and I'm pretty sure we're not talking ever again or something like that.

Blogging does help me sleep at night. Various things I see or hear are placed on here. For instance, the deaf guy and I worked nearby each other today. I got to hear that he also has complaints about the old guy at work that smells terribly of ass. The only good part is that I didn't get my thumb bent back by accident like last week. Hurts like hell. Saying all this makes me laugh at how I look back at all this as another day gone by or survived.

So, I'm outta here and not sure if I'm still up for the gig. A big happy birthday to Summer as she tells everyone that being 26 is a very stagnant time of her life. I would agree if I wasn't spending too much time laughing about my good times in the past. Maybe this year, I'll come to Miami if Summer will have me and we can see who knows more cartoon theme songs. Happy twats all around.