2:59 AM - One Month...really!
Current mood: Chin-tastic
Category: Chin-tastic Life

It's been a month.


Since I got back from Alaska.


Since I wrote anything.


Since I drank.


Not that "not drinking" is an accomplishment for me.

But that was what I used to do.  At the end of the day, sit and have a drink and write and fritter my time on MySpace.

So...if you got a drunken, naked message from me here on MySpace...you know my secret: I was drunk.

And there really seems nothing to be really said for the last month of my life.

I've existed.

Except for this.

I have grown this...this...whatever the hell it is over the last month.


Yep...I haven't shaved in one month.


I'm damn near 40 years old and I can't grow any facial hair.

I'm not sure if that's funny or sad.

You can be the judge.

Currently listening : Vulgar Display of Power By Pantera Release date: 1992-02-25

67 Comments - 27 Kudos - Add Comment

5:01 PM - Womanly Eye Lashes
Current mood: Testosterone! For the 318!
Category: Testosterone! For the 318! Jobs, Work, Careers

I went to a "writer's workshop" two summers in a row when I was a high school teacher.

They called this "staff development." This two weeks sitting around with other teacher types acting like we were "real" writers. Going through activities that we would, in theory, work into our classrooms.

(Teacher workshop bullshit)

Two weeks of my life. In exchange for the $900 stipened. It was worth it to me.

So, on day one of that second year...and remember, I'm HABITUALLY early...I plop down in my "group" room at a table by myself. I leave it to others to extend the hand of friendship by sitting with me. At my table.

Me sitting at a table filled with Elementary Teachers is more than my single-guy stomach can bear.

(Elementary School teacher types trying for humor...and failing)

And at my round table of four, in walks three teachers all from the same Elementary school and they plop down with me.

Two were old school teachers. Insert an image of every graying teacher you ever had. And with them, they had one young, nubile Ms. First Year teacher.

(here is the picture of the two other teachers...every teacher you ever had that was not attractive)

Who sat next to me. And she smelled swell.

(so not her...but this is equivalent...Ms. First Year Nubile Into Lovin' Harvey Teacher!)

And she was attractive. In that non-descript Elementary School teacher way. She'd make a good mom. She was a Laura, fo sho!

And I thought she took a liking to me. Because I know I was digging her flirtations and her fresh, summery smell.

(Flirty Girl)

Our first activity was to interview someone at our table and focus on our writing "voice." I went for a monotonous, robotic "by the facts" approach that got all the laughs.

That's me. Class Clown.

(Me being class clown boy)

She got called on to read hers. And she'd interviewed me. And it was as boring as the day is long. Until she got to the line, "He has long, lovely eye lashes. Eye lashes a girl would kill for."

(Not my lashes...shut it!)

And the room of mostly women let out a collective, motherly "AWWWWWW!"

And my right testicle fully rolled out of my shorts.

While my lashes may, or may not, be womanly. No dude wants to be called out on his long, luscious lashes.

Needless to say, there was no romantic destiny for Ms. First Year Teacher and myself. In fact, I grew a resentment for her that caused me to buzz all the hair off my head that week. I only offered the explanation that I was "in training."

(dudes in training!  NOT gay...I promise!)

So...ladies...for the record...no guy...and I'll carry the burden for speaking for ALL PENIS POSSESSORS...no guy wants to have any part of his being equated with being something that a girl would want for own body or life.

Luckily I found my manhood later that summer by working in a rock quarry breaking rocks, drinking only Budweiser and eating nothing but beef jerky and other beef products.




A la Howard Roark.

He's a hero and a half.

HOWARD

Currently listening : Soundtrack to the Apocalypse By Slayer Release date: 2003-11-25

50 Comments - 42 Kudos - Add Comment

10:07 PM - The Deal with Alaska
Current mood: Alaska-Tastic
Category: Alaska-Tastic Travel and Places

Here are some random, quick fired facts and introspective missives about my five nights in Alaska.

• The men in Alaska are of the hairy type. Which is totally unlike me. I'm more of the shaven/Metro type of guy when it comes to hair and my facial growths. Which isn't to say that these wildebeests aren't friendly fucks! Fresh off the plane, a wooly guy snapped this picture!

• People love their Subaru cars up there. I used to think that they only catered and pandered to the homosexual community in the lower 48. Those fuckers were NUMEROUS up there!

• NO ONE wears shorts in Anchorage. I got the stink eye more times than I could count when wearing shorts to the grocery store or to a restaurant. Granted...it was all of 50 degrees, but that's how I roll. I guess Skater Casual isn't "in" in the last great frontier.
  

• The sun stayed up till 2:00 AM every night.

• The sun never really showed itself. I didn't see sunlight till I got back to Hartsfield Airport in Atlanta on Monday morning. Yet it was always light enough to see.

• The greatest restaurant EVER is Village Inn. It's a cross between Waffle House and Denny's and I.H.O.P. But the best of all possibilities. My gastro-intestinal tract is still reeling from that place.

• The Puffin is the state bird.

• Hearing your state issued ID beep twice while entering a national military base means bad, BAD things about your past. Just saying!

• Alaska is the most beautiful, intimidating, earth toned, and rustic place I've ever been. And I have no desire to ever go back. I'm a sun lover.

• There were LOTS of Russians up there. The most notable entered some Playboy contest at the club we went to and did a "dance" that was nothing more than the basketball defense move of "hands out"! I dubbed this move The Great Wall. She was retarded. And only rivaled by the hostile Russian guy at the airport on the way home.

Currently listening : Songs from the Earth By Son of Sam Release date: 2001-04-17

64 Comments - 50 Kudos - Add Comment

8:02 PM - I know what you do, Hoe!
Current mood: Nostalgic-tastic
Category: Nostalgic-tastic Romance and Relationships

I can act like I don't know what you do.

Like I don't know who you really are. And what you really do...behind my back that you think I don't know about.

Yes, I ended that last sentence in a preposition.

You try to act like you're on my side, that you really care. But as I see it...someone who REALLY cared wouldn't be doing these things. Thinking that I won't find out.

Acting like that is just selfish.

So, I have to ask you to stop.

If you love me you will stop. Heck...even if you just like me, you won't keep doing this.

So, please stop stealing my CDs from me. I desperately miss my Smashing Pumpkins Gish, and my Metallica Ride the Lightning CDs.




Please stop doing these selfish things. You're an adult. Return my shit.

Please.

I miss my music. Yep.

Currently listening : Peace Sells...But Who’s Buying? By Megadeth Release date: 2004-07-27

46 Comments - 34 Kudos - Add Comment

7:18 AM - What’s Up? PictoBlogging Goodness!
Current mood: Picto-tastic
Category: Picto-tastic Life

Okay...I've not been the MySpace kid over the last three-ish months.

I'm lame. I have no excuse.

And I don't blog much anymore.

And I don't sit for hours trying to be witty, drunken Harv like I once did.

But I've been busy. Yep.

And I've acquired a camera phone...and a new digi-camera to document the lameness of my life.

I've been to Texas twice.  On the spur style.  I've gone to Florida for a get away and a race.  It's been a full, full life, I would say.

So you get to see the photographic results my camping trip to Florida and other impromptu photographs documenting the Harvey Walbanger experience, 2008. All in Camera Phone goodness!
***************************************************
Florida Camping Trip GOODNESS!


(Before I hit the road...pretty f'ing stoked!)


(Hitting the road...this is Downtown Atlanta traffic on a Tuesday afternoon. Don't move here. We have enough congestion already!)


I was driving south to Dothan, Alabama to hang out with my buddy Bill.  He promised me grilled carcass and beer.  And I'm a sucker for that shit.


(Bill's driveway.  Before the beer.  Long before.)


(Post beer...in my "room"...taking pictures to send to Llama Walbanger.  Yep...I'm drunk.)


(Yet never too drunk to brush the teeth!)

So, the next day I traveled the 90 minutes to the Florida State Park where I was camping.  I was to pick up Llama Walbanger a day later.  That left me one day to be drunk and set up camp before her arrival.  She'd never been to camping at the beach.  I tried to paint a picture with my pictures.


(I stopped here to get food.)


(Please note the conspicuous lack of Roast Beast flavor ramen.  Sad)

I made my way to the campground and got set up ASAP.  It was all of 10:00 AM.  I believe that meant it was time to start the tequila. 


(Technically, there's no drinking in State Parks in Florida. I tried to respect the families there by not letting them see the raging alcoholic Harvey as he did shots whilst setting up his tent)


(Two shots on an empty stomach later...this was me.  I was using that thing to "hammer" in my tent steaks.  Overkill?  Sure.  But fuck it...when you have the testosterone I do, you are known for your bouts of exuberance!)


(The view from my campsite.  I have to say, I was pretty impressed with my reservation skills!)


(Pic 2 from the campsite)


(The first glimpse of the beach when I crested the boardwalk...I love this moment when I see the Gulf for the first time.  This is where I used to vacation with my family when I was a kid...it's like a second womb for me.)


(No, Officer!  That's not an alcoholic beverage.  No, sir!)


(That's totally my foot.  That's totally the Gulf.  True fact.)


(Yes, I was drunk in the bathroom.  The Gulf was a bit too cold to dip into and use as my pisser!)


(Drunken me showing of the palatial bathrooms!  If you're a camper...you know how awesome this shot is.  Most bathrooms aren't nearly this "nice.")

So, I had to go pic up Llama Walbanger from the airport on the second day.  That was a drive.  A long drive.  I snapped this pic of "Gus" to show her I was "strong like Bull!"  She loves that about me!




(This is how excited she was about the three hour drive we had in front of us to get back to the campground!  She found my "goggles" from work and went for it.  This is the fun we have...just go with it!)


(To document that, yes, I do wear those things from time to time at my work. You can even see my heroin tracks!)


(Old Lady Llama loves being called a Hoe...for obvious reasons!)


(And she loves her hard salami.  I couldn't figure out why she smiled for 3 hours after she made me buy this for her.  She's a nutty gal!)


(Give her a few shots of tequila and Llama Walbanger-ette loves her a hot dog.  What!?!? A girl's gotta eat!)


(The random picture of me waiting in the Houston Airport...which is TOTALLY unrelated to this blog. Unless you can tie the title Solipsist into my big life epiphany from this trip.  Who am I kidding...I just wanted to re-read this book for the 100th time!)


(And 'cause I got all invited to a wedding...I had to see if my one suit still worked.  This is the suit I chaperoned Prom in...and interviewed in...and went to court in...and got convicted in.  Symbolic that it had moth holes in it, I guess!)
*********************************************
So...there she be!  If a picture is worth a thousand words, I've written a freaking novel!  Now stop telling me I'm a dick for not blogging or logging on, okay?!?

Currently reading : Snuff By Chuck Palahniuk Release date: 2008-05-20

64 Comments - 46 Kudos - Add Comment

4:20 PM - The Ass of Least Resistance
Current mood: ass-tastic
Category: ass-tastic Fashion, Style, Shopping

Okay...I'm not making fun of people who don't work out here.  This was meant to be funny...and in jest.  I'm not judging or looking down on you for whatever you do or don't do with your time...I just tried to parlay this whole "ass" thing into a metaphor about life.  If you can't laugh a little...just go away, okay?! ;)
***********************************************************************
"Who would've thought under those baggy shorts of yours there's actually that nice ass!?" - Texas

The above quote was uttered to me while I was making an impromptu trip to Texas this past weekend.

You see, underneath the facade of a gangly skater boy, lies the once fat boy, complex-driven mind that makes me into quite the gym rat.  It's one of those things where you only notice that I'm in shape when my clothes get scarce.

(totally not me, but you get the point)

Like at the pool.  Or at the beach.  Or in the shower.  Or when I'm changing clothes.  Or during sex.


And Texas, she noticed.

She noticed that I have a larger-than-the-average-caucasian-protuberent-posterior.  My ass, in lay terms.  And it made me swell with pride.

(this is TOTALLY my ass!  Yep.)

And it got me thinking.  Thinking about butts.  I mean, everyone has one.  And what a strange value we place on them.  For better or for worse.

You see, I notice butts.  And I happened to notice that Jose, this guy I work with, has the flattest ass I've ever seen.  It's like there's no delineation between where his back ends and his legs begin.  There seems to be merely a hole where poop comes from.  And that's a funny image.


And I distinctly remember thinking when I took note of his ass, "Wow...that's an ass that's never worked out in his life.  That's an ass that's always taken the path of least resistance.  That's an ass that's avoided work at all costs.  That's the ass of least resistance."  I guess I should have been thinking, "Why!? Why was I just checking out Jose's ass?  Am I gay for him?"  But I digress.

Yep.  I literally thought all that.

So my mind jumped from the fatty, protuberant musculature at the bottom of my back to the fact that this guy I work with has an ass that seems to say Jose's feared and shunned every difficult situation he's been faced with.  Yep...I made the jump to making his ass into a metaphor about life just LIKE THAT!

(is that an ass or just legs attached to a torso?)

Which is no way to go through life, this avoiding challenges.  It's the Tyler Durden concept when he states, "How much can you really know about yourself if you've never been in a fight?"


And sadly most people avoid difficult situations.  Most people (ahem) take the path of least resistance as a matter of course.  And that includes avoiding exercise.  That includes ending all participation in any type of competitive sport or activity beyond the high school age.

And to me, that's sad.

Because an ass can say a lot about you.  It can sometimes be misleading, but sometimes it tells you just what you need to know about someone.

(I'm an ass)

I'll defer to Hank..."If you're never tested, you'll never define your character."

62 Comments - 46 Kudos - Add Comment

2:10 PM - I Gotz Code!
Category: Travel and Places

+
......
+

+

+

+

+

+

+

=

AND

***************************************
See you kids on Sunday.  Wish me luck!  I hope to come back with stories.  And to come back sore.  And to come back tired.  And to come back smelly.

And to come back smiling so hard they'll never remove the smile from my face.



----------------
Now playing: Rollins Band - Liar

0 Comments - 0 Kudos

8:06 PM - Being a Laura
Current mood: Laura-tastic
Category: Laura-tastic Life

In the height of my teacher days, I reconnected with Laura, a girl I had worked with in a retail sporting goods store years before.

We were both older, and we both had just started these budding careers. Me as a teacher, and she as an interior designer.


Somehow, we found ourselves living a mere two blocks from each other in Midtown, the white, angst filled inner city dwellings for early-late 20-somethings in Atlanta.

And Laura was what I remembered from her time as my boss. She was pretty, in the yuppie, nondescript way. She smelled good. She dressed inoffensively. She was utterly "Laura" in every way, shape and form.

So we tried to date. Because it looked good on paper. She looked perfect on paper. She was from this REALLY prestigious family. She was pretty. She smelled nice. And that carried a lot of weight with me, for some reason.
******************************
It wasn't there. There wasn't anything wrong with her, per se. But there wasn't anything there for me. She was too much of something, or too little of something I needed. She was safe. And sure. And destined to make a good mom.


There was just no FIRE there.


She would call pretty regularly. And she would always say, "Just wanted to see what you were doing, to see if you wanted to go hang out." And I resented this. I resented her liking me. I grew to resent the desperation with which she tried to cling to me. And her reaching out for me.

And that illustrates what kind of a dick I was. Because who doesn't like being liked!?!

(this girl doesn't like being liked!)

She would have done anything for me. I know this. And having that knowledge only made me more resolute in my knowing that I would never, ever like her the same way she liked me. Her loaning me her copy of Tommy Boy for 6 months. Her offering to help me move. All acts of kindness.

And all of them made me that much more sure that I couldn't. That I wouldn't. Ever.

And this brings up this conundrum: everyone reading this has had a Laura in their life. Someone who, on paper, should have made you happy. Someone who was nice. Someone who liked you. Someone who tried. Only "it" wasn't there.

Other than that, my realization is that it sucks to be a Laura to someone. To know that, regardless of what you do, what you say, whatever magic you can pull out of your hat or your ass, "it" just won't be there for them. As much as you may want it to be because you know that is SHOULD be there. And I've been that guy Laura. Sadly.

(OUCH!  It hurts...like falling down on your keys!)

It sucks to be a Laura. Verily it does. So tread lightly with those feelings of her. Or him.

And be excellent to each other.


----------------
Now playing: Queensrÿche - I Don't Believe In Love
via FoxyTunes   

66 Comments - 48 Kudos - Add Comment

7:08 PM - Leo Dickhead
Current mood: Dickhead-tastic!
Category: Dickhead-tastic! Friends

My friend, Cathy Loves...('cause she always changes what she loves) wrote a blog about being a Leo yesterday. And it was interesting.

I'm a Leo. A typical one. And that's good. And bad.

I'm loyal. Like a motherfucker. I'm passionate. I'm not one to half ass anything. I'll get pretty bent if I can't master something. Or I won't do. I know other Leos that are like this. About bowling and shit.


I like being the center of attention and affection. But not so much of large groups anymore. I want to be the frontman for the band, not the drummer. That's a metaphor. I'm totally not in a band! Keep up with me, kids.


I'm witty, gregarious, and outgoing.


Then again...Cathy's blog got me thinking about what's the UGLIEST Leo thing that I do. That's typical Leo behavior.


I do hold me some grudges. 'Cause them grudges LOVE being held. They told me so. That's personification, folks. We all know grudges can't really speak!


So, I hold grudges. Especially if I feel I've been embarassed or made fun of or belittled. That goes against me being the biggest, awesomest dude in the room.

See, I'm all about self deprication. Even if it makes me seem neurotic. And unconfident in myself. I'll talk all day about my small dick, my flat ass, my lack of sexual prowess and how I can't kiss.


But let someone else make those observations...while they are all totally true, I don't deal well with that level of critical assessment of my person.

Like the girl friend I had, and whom I had known for years. With whom I'd hung with a gaggle of times. And never any sex. And then, out of the blue before us heading out for our plans we had made months in advance she drops, "You know we're just friends, right? And nothing's going to happen!?"

So yeah...I swallowed the oceans before I let that one slide. And I'm a dick for it. Because to me that embarassed me. And made me feel stupid.

Nay...it made me feel foolish.

So, I should amend. It's when I feel foolish at the expense of others. That's REALLY the ticket for making me act like a temper tantrum throwing bitch.


And that's never a reason to hold grudges for six months. Or a year. Or years. Or to just let friendships fade away.

But it's happened. And it's ugly. And I don't like it. And maybe someday I'll ask for forgiveness.

For being such a petty dickhead who feels slighted and pouts like a baby.

Because I AM a Leo. 

(Really me being a dick!)



----------------
Now playing: Down - Beneath The Tides
via FoxyTunes   

53 Comments - 44 Kudos - Add Comment

6:02 PM - Chain Gang Chef
Current mood: Ramen-tastic!
Category: Ramen-tastic! Food and Restaurants

In prison, Ramen Noodles are currency. I recall I got my broken headphones fixed for two ramen soups. That's about $.60 here in the real world. Also, I payed a guy one pack of ramen soup each week to make my bed when we would have "sheet day" and have to strip our beds. That bed being made tight is one less thing you have to worry about when inspection rolled around each day.

But you see...I left my year with an UNHEALTHY love of the salty noodles. And here I will share with you, and ONLY you, my recipe for the best salty noodle brick ever known to man.

Start with one packet of Roast Beef flavor noodles and exactly 6 Saltine crackers. Trust me...6 is the optimal number for what we'll be doing here.

(Rich Flavor, indeed!  Any other flavor is for CHUMPS!)

First, you have to break the noodles up into as fine a powder as you can.  I prefer slamming the packet down on the counter really hard, then using your FIST OF FURY to grind up all the big chunks of dehydrated noodles.

(Don't punch it...just use your fist to grind it up a bit!)

You will want to remove the flavor packet and continue grinding up the noodles with your hands while they're still in the plastic bag.  You want it to look like this when you're done.


At this stage, throw in the 6 crackers and use both hands to knead that baggie of dried, starchy goodness.  You want the crackers broken up to the same degree as the noodles.


(It's a good forearm workout...or so I hear!)

NOW...this is where people would screw up.  Perk your eyes and ears up.  When you have the noodles and crackers ground up and all chunks broken up, open your flavor packet.  You want to dump exactly 1/2 your packet in there.  Any more and you won't have enough to top it off in a few minutes.  Any less, and you'll be hating the excess saltiness found on top.

(Go slow...stop at 1/2)

You should have boiling water ready at this stage.  You want to put just enough water in there.  Not too much.  The good thing about the saltines and all the broken ends of the noodles is that they will absorb pretty much any amount of water you put in there given enough time.  However, I'm an impatient prick.  So...you want to fill your sealable bowl just enough to have all the contents to JUST BARELY begin to float in the boiling hot water.  Any more, and you'll have to wait a long time in order for this to congeal.  Any less, and you'll have crunchy noodles.


After putting the water in the noodles, cover and let it sit for 3-5 mintutes.  This allows the noodles to cook and to absorb the water.

(note, just the right amount of water in there!)

After about 5 minutes, you want to uncover your noodles.  When you do, you will notice that they have formed a near solid state.  Like Jello.  This is when you take the rest of the packet of flavor, and evenly sprinkle it over the op of all the noodles.  You make a pile of that shit, and you'll be hating it.  Trust me.



Let that cool for another 3 mintues, while covered, and you'll be ready to go.  At that time it's formed a "brick" like consistency and you're ready to indulge in the salty goodness like inmates around the country!



Bon apetit!

77 Comments - 62 Kudos - Add Comment

8:26 PM - Dead Weight
Current mood: Balloon-tastic
Category: Balloon-tastic Goals, Plans, Hopes

"...and you throw the dead weight off the side of you balloon to rise faster and faster and higher and higher!" - Henry Rollins, more or less.


I’ve come to the conclusion this week that it’s the decisions you make in life that can separate you being a kid from being an adult. Choices and decisions can separate you from a career. From your freedom even. I know this.


I look back on the choices I’ve made in my life, and there seem to be two distinct kinds of choices you face in life. Or at least that I’ve faced in my life. Ones that affect who you want to be in five years, where you want to see your life going. And those that are the day-to-day shit things that don’t matter.

McDonald’s or Burger King. Call him or TXT him. Spit or swallow. It doesn’t matter.

Not that I swallow. But you get my drift.

But the big ones...that’s where the big kids get separated from the lil’uns. At least I think.

I made a lot of choices in my life that weren’t wise for where I wanted to find myself in five years. And I indulged. And unwise choice gave way to unwise choice. And me ending up being sent away was just a culmination of a series of poor choices on my part.


’Cause I was choosing the unwise thing. Daily. And often. With gusto. I got good at it. Several times in a night. And it was fun. And it was hollow.

I was choosing the thing that was instant gratification. I wasn’t choosing the thing that would make me a happier person "down the road."

And this topic isn’t very sexy. I know this. Making "wise" adult decisions. But this is where my head is. And this is my blog. There’s an "X" at the top right corner for a reason.

So, if you’re out there and you’re choosing the things that’re not wise...those things that will stand in the way of who you want to be in five years. Who you want to be "down the road"...fucking stop already!

If you’re that girl I went to high school with and you’re still out there fucking guys you meet in bars. Don’t wonder why you’re not happy. Don’t wonder why you hate that you don’t have a guy who loves and respects you.

And I’m not knocking you girls who meet and fuck guys you meet in bars. The world needs all types. Just that my world doesn’t need all types, I guess. I needed you once.

And I recognize that change is hard. VERY fucking hard. If you’ve gotten your gratification from hollow things and it’s wrecked your life...I’m you. If you’ve felt hollow after that first date by your choices and decisions...I’m you.

And I know choosing otherwise is really hard because you know these things and they are what you know. And they’re comfortable. But there today. They’re not anything that can be built upon.

They’ll lead you to the same place you are when you’re choosing them. That same vacuum won’t be filled.

So, if you’re trying to change...I’m on your team. I’m rooting for you. I want you to be happy. Honestly. Even if I don’t know you. It’s up to you to stop shooting your happiness in the foot. It’s up to you to stop nailing your foot to the floor of unhappiness. That’s a metaphor, by the way. You don’t REALLY nail your foot to the floor. I know this. And unhappiness doesn’t have a floor. That’d make him too happy.


Get changing, kids. If you’re ready. Only one person has the job of making you happy. I can only sit on the sidelines and cheer you on.

And I pray that your change doesn’t come at the cost of losing a year of your life.

The sooner you throw that dead weight off the side of the balloon of your life, the sooner you’ll rise into pure brilliance.


And I’m pulling for you!

(yes, I’m this gay-tastic...I’m wearing my cheerleader outfit RIGHT now!)

Currently listening : 4-Way Diablo By Monster Magnet Release date: 06 November, 2007

72 Comments - 52 Kudos - Add Comment

6:36 PM - Creative Writing Class
Current mood: Poetry-Tastic
Category: Poetry-Tastic Life

Part of getting a degree in English was that I had to take a creative writing class.  I chose to take the poetry segment over the fiction class that was offered at Georgia State.

(Yep...that's really a university)

Which was a huge mistake.  Being that I savvied myself as a tortured artist type.


You see, my teacher was this great poet who was a little famous in the poetry world.  And he had his standards as to what he liked and would praise.


And that wasn't my poetry.

When you would bring in a poem for the class, you would pass out copies for everyone and then read it aloud.  Then you would have to sit silently as everyone in class commented on it.  You weren't allowed to respond. 

And sometimes them saying nothing, just that silence destroyed writers more than the "this was just shitty, shitty shit you wrote here, bro!" comments.


****Of note, the only two poems Dr. Bottoms (no shit...his real name) praised were one semi-inappropriate one by a guy about a grown male narrator holding hands with his 13 year old female cousin in a theatre...it wreaked of "Oh, no...that narrator really seems to like his cousin a bit TOO much!"  And one by a mother who wrote about her bulimic daughter needing to get "fillled up" with the love of a man and food...and the sexual overtones and images of her daughter fucking were pretty blatant. ****

So, the 12 of us students picked up on what he appreciated.  And what others in the class thought was good.  And we all went from writing like us, to writing shit we thought others would like.

This painful process homogenized us and our styles.  And it beat down any thought I had in my head that I was a good writer.

(me before I took that class...Dr. Bottoms made me hand in all my writing utensils and vow never to write again!)
****************************************************************
And starting relationships are a bit like this process to me.  In the beginning.

(touching leads to babies...be warned!)

When you meet someone that you want to like you.  When you don't want them to think you're an asshole.  Or a psycho bitch.

You complain less about your shitty day at work because you don't want to seem like a whiner.  You hold your tongue about the off color comment they just made about some other person, figuring that it's not worth throwing away the new relationship over something so "minor".


Only sometimes these comments aren't minor.  They're the thunder before the storm.

And I've been guilty of this in the past a bit.  I've, in the past, toned down my Walbanger-ness when I've met someone who was new.  Because I didn't want to overwhelm them with my spastic ass.  I've homogenized myself, and compromised myself hoping to have someone like me more.

And it was bullshit.

And that's the liberating thing about coming out of prison.  I fear others and their opinion of me a lot less than I did before I went away.  Someone not liking me...well, as Henry Rollins said, "[they hit me with] such tiny fists."

So, if you meet someone that you can immediately cut through the posturing and polishing of yourself, know that you have something special there.  It happens...but rarely.  But when it does, it's truly a great feeling.

(Don't JUMP, kids!  That comes later...at the break up stage!)

So, if you know me and you're a chicky chick or a dudely dude and I call you "Dude"...you can rest assured that you're getting the real me.  Because there's nothing pretentious about a man calling a woman "dude." It's just how I roll...for better or for worse.  In fact, it takes a pretty rad girl to get the 'dude' treatment these days! ;)

That's officially it...I've just invented it...we'll call it the "Dude Barometer"...feel free to use it yourself.

Be excellent to each other, dudes!

Currently listening : Angel Dust By Faith No More Release date: 16 June, 1992

72 Comments - 54 Kudos - Add Comment

1:44 AM - Alabama and Pictures
Current mood: Dothan-tastic!
Category: Dothan-tastic! Friends

EDIT: I'm TOTALLY kidding about Piggly Wiggly being banned in Georgia.  Don't bite me...I was being sarcastical at my friends in Alabama being...well...a bit behind.  Long live the PIG!
********************************************
All rights...I know you guys love pictures. Who doesn't. And given that you guys loved my last picto blog (both of you guys!) back in October, I thought I have another in me.

It was me in Dothan, Alabama February 1-3. And I was sick as shit.
Too sick to ride and race. So, I announced and had fun with my buddies. Without further ado...I shall shut my trap (my fingers!?) and get on with the pictures.


(You get me driving, the sign, me talking on the phone...I gotz skillz!)

I was sick.  I tried to ride a bit and practice, but a week of being sick and not having ridden since Thanksgiving was taking their toll on me.  I was wanting that hotel room pretty badly.


(Jesse consoling me since I was sick, out of shape and sweaty.  Again...NOT GAY!  TOTALLY NOT GAY!)

So, I got off to my hotel.  I was bored...and had a camera...so pictures ensued.


(Where the magic happened!  And by magic, I mean reading and sleeping.  I'm a prude.)


(Biggest.  Bathroom. Ever.  It was all walk in style.  Why?)


(My sick, frozen ass.  Check the red nose...SEXY!)

So, Saturday was day one of the race.  Mostly, I was just snotty everywhere.  But I did get to hang with my broes and hoes a bit.


(Jesse and Mags.  They may look tough...good folks!)


(Taylor thinks I'm No. 1.  Russ has quit racing to be a male stripper.  We all have our burdens.  His is being too sexy, I think! ;)


(Commish past and commish present.  Good folks!  The smiling-est guys in BMX!)


(My office)


(Preaching the gospel...hard(ly) at work!  I have the sexy Phoebe Buffay sick voice going on here!)


(the only BMX track in the nation that crosses itself.  I think...don't consult the googles on me now!)


(of note here at the cookout...not a woman to be found.  BMX is NOT a sexy sport.  They have bikes, beer, trucks...too much testosterone for the ladies, apparently!)


(I have red balls.  I told you it was cold!)


(Notice how Bill looks like all the grainy photos of Bigfoot from the 1970s.  You will never, EVER see Bill in the same place as Bigfoot.  Coincidence?)


(You know you're in the south when you find the Piggly Wiggly supermarket. I love Alabama!  This chain has been banned by law in Georgia.  Hey...Alabama is an hour behind us here!)

And that's it...no gay-tastic dinosaur hoodie pics from this weekend.  Give me another trip to Morristown, Tennessee and I may have something for you guys!

Currently listening : Contents Under Pressure By Pro-Pain Release date: 08 June, 1999

67 Comments - 49 Kudos - Add Comment

7:06 AM - Don’t Bring Me Flowers
Current mood: Flower-tastic
Category: Flower-tastic Life

Valentine's Day is approaching.

And this seems to be the day to profess your love or like or amorous feelings for that someone.


And 'tis the day for flowers.


Or so I hear.

And it reminds me.  I've bought flowers for a girl exactly one time.  And it didn't go well.


See, we'd decided to "start seeing other people."  And by that, I mean she'd started dating another guy.

I didn't think it was serious.  We had dated for about a year.  It seemed to be a whim.  A flight of fancy, this new guy.

And I made the mistake during this to buy her flowers for Valentine's.


She came to my apartment and I gave them to her, and we went out to eat.  When we came back and she got ready to leave back to her place, I mentioned, "Here, let me get the flowers for you."

Her reply cemented why I will never buy flowers again in my life.  Except maybe for myself. 


She retorted, "Um...I'm going to leave them here.  Brad's coming over and I wouldn't know how to explain those to him.  Can I just leave them here to enjoy them the next time I come over?"

Had she been crafty, she would have taken them and thrown them out the car window.  I would have been none the wiser.

But this gesture I made went wholly snubbed.  And she left them there with me.

I threw those fucking roses in the garbage as soon as her tail lights rounded the corner.


If you're waiting for flowers from me...well...don't.

And to all you folks in love...be excellent to each other.

Currently listening : The End of Silence By Rollins Band Release date: 01 December, 1995

88 Comments - 58 Kudos - Add Comment

7:29 PM - The Rules of Attraction
Current mood: Stalk-tastic
Category: Stalk-tastic Romance and Relationships

Back in my teaching days, I dated this girl who scared me.  I went on exactly three dates with her.  I don't really recall how I met the girl working on her Masters at Emory University.  I only remember that she was crazy.

And she was pretty.  And what guy isn't a sucker for a pretty girl?

But after our first date, she called me.  A lot.  And given that I'm a bit slow to "warm up" to people in the physical sense (and fuck YOU!  Despite what you've heard about me...I'm innocent of those things you've heard, damn it!).  I showed up for a second date.

And she, in her artisticically gifted glory, had created this for me:

(I counted the hours she spent on this...and that FREAKED ME THE FUCK OUT!)

So, from our brief email correspondence, and one date she'd gained from me that I liked Rollins.  She'd googled his band and found the ONE song that he'd sung that was a "love song" and she'd included that as a part of the picture above.  Look closely, the lyrics are embedded in the "art" she created for me.

And this scared the ever loving shit out of me.  Too much.  Too soon.  Too intense.

That she liked me soooooo much more than I like her.  She wasn't a bad girl.  She just was WAY more into me than I was into her.  And that's scary.  No matter who you are.

So, when on our third date rolled around, she flipped out about some joke I'd made about her mom being "crazy"...I took that opportunity to exit stage left. (WHAT!?!?  I'm a dick...you already knew this!)
************************************************************
Which leads me to this...I realized these days that being attracted to someone is so very natural.  That sexual attraction...that's animalistic.

I mean, every animal goes into heat, right?

(Even Snowmen go into heat!  Wocka Wocka!)

But only humans can be attracted to someone because of their personality, their life, or just being down with the "feeling" that you get from the person.  Animals fuck to procreate.

Us human types...we think a lot.  We feel a lot. Too much.

(he be a thinking som'bitch!)

Sadly.

And thus begins the games.

When we were kids, it was simple.  You like someone, you would ask them to "go" with you.  Or whatever societal equivilant there is in your corner of the world.


I've realized that as we become more "adult"...the more bullshit we bring to this aspect of our lives. 

When you meet someone, you want them to like you.  Just like you like them.

But not too much.  Not too soon.  And not in some weird, stalker-ish way.  'Cause that causes you to pull the plug.  Causes you to run before you've even gotten to know the person.

Again, I go back to the fact that only us Humans seem to be to the only animals who do this.  Who take someone liking us TOO much.  Who take someone liking us too soon.  Who take some "other" liking us intesely as a negative.

Dating when you're an adult seems to be some elaborate game of Texas Hold 'Em.  Don't show too much too soon.


And I'm guilty of this.  But I'm mostly guilty of showing too much, too soon.  Exuberance and excitement...well, no one makes their best choices when they're in those early days of meeting someone.


And I've shot myself in the foot a lot because of this.

Us humans...we make shit pretty difficult.

So to the ladies...I beg for all the guys out there who think you're pretty fucking awesome, I ask patience as we try to cope with our excitement and exuberance.


And don't save any pictures of us to document this excitement we have for you to use against us at a later date, okay?

And I'll quote Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure here...be excellent to each other.

Currently listening : Audioslave By Audioslave Release date: 19 November, 2002

98 Comments - 70 Kudos - Add Comment