Dreams...More

I recently had two weeks off from work in the form of vacation and it was splendid.  There was no trip or random orgy(ies) that took place during that time...so don't get excited.  On the Sunight before the Monday going back to work, I had a hard time going to sleep, two weeks of staying up till 2 or 3 in the morning and sleeping till 10 or 11 in the morning, somehow has that affect on you.  Go figure.

So to fall asleep and to get my mind off of the impending doom of work, I cleared my mind.  I do this all the time and it usually brings images into my head.  Usually of looking into a bright sun filled sky and imagining or seeing other details that come forth.  Sometimes it works like premonition, which is kinda cool.

On this particular night, it wasn't the normal bright blue sun filled sky, but a cloudy, pouring down rain, type of day.  I am sitting on a porch or in a restaurant set in the country looking out on this scene and it triggered a memory of a dream.

This dream I was in my yard, it was filled with brush that you typically find in the woods of Florida...i.e. palmetto bushes, pine straw and the accompanying pine trees.  It had been raining and the vehicle I drove was stuck in the mud.

Now thinking back, this could not be my current yard.  My current yard does not nor has not ever had that many pine trees that were that tall and big, it mostly had smaller pines about as big around as a baseball bat, not  as big as a mudder tire.  That would be bigger than 33" for you un-educated folk.  Though, some would argue that a true mudder tire begins at 35", but that is for another article some other time.

Now all of this makes me wonder if this is someplace I have yet to be or just some sort of amalgamation of memories?

Of course that doesn't answer the question about the rainy day vision.

Santa

Everyone knows that Santa is a jolly old soul, gives presents to all the good boys and girls, lives on the North Pole, has elves making all the toys he gives out, has eight tiny reindeer and is married to Mrs. Claus.

Seems lately that Old St. Nick has been found hocking many things this year.  From BestBuy to Mercedes, guess the Coca-Cola contract finally ended.

Santa hocking Ancestry.com

It is a little disturbing knowing that Santa is related to a tooth thief.

Santa helping BestBuy.

Of course all of these moms don't know that with one phone call, that dollar for a tooth will go back to a shilling.

Santa selling trucks.

Of course Santa owns a Mercedes

When Santa wants to have some fun on vacation.

With Santa hocking his face in all of these ads I'm not sure if he has sold out to the man, fallen on hard times,  isn't that busy because there aren't that many good boys and girls as there used to be or is just letting people know that he is still out there, waiting, watching, checking to see who is naughty and who is nice.

Merry Christmas.

Choo Choo

The other day I was on the laptop which has Yahoo Messenger installed on it and if you have Messenger, then you know that it pops up a news window with top stories on it.  I will usually go through the stories to see what they are and if any interest me, I will read them.  Well one caught my attention and it was about train rides that I thought was cool.

I've always been interested in trains, not the wearing an Engineers cap and collecting model trains but in riding them.  I was able to ride on one here locally when I was a kid around Christmas time and it was quite fun.  These were just old restored cars, but it was an experience that you keep for a lifetime.

And I want to do it more now that I read that particular story on Yahoo.

The closest scenic train ride is in Georgia.  Quite a ride from the panhandle of Florida just to take a train ride if you ask me.  Then I got to thinking if there was anything local and remembered AmTrak used to have a station in Chipley but has been closed awhile back for lack of passengers.  So, I got on AmTrak.com to see the nearest station was and it's FREAKING NEW ORLEANS!

Then I started to do some research on tickets, which are fairly inexpensive. 69.00 bucks from New Orleans to Atlanta.  Not too bad minus the drive from here to New Orleans which would eat up 5 plus hours for a 10 hour train ride.  You could get there faster by driving then taking a train.

Then I did more research and the Sunset Limited service was discontinued after hurricane Katrina in '05 with damage to the lines that serviced the Gulf Coast.  Those lines have since been repaired but service has yet to resume.

The Sunset Limited ran coast to coast starting in Orlando, Fl to Los Angeles, CA.  Now the train only runs from New Orleans, LA to Los Angeles, CA.  I may not be interested in running to California but a trip to Orlando or from Chipley or Crestview to anywhere would be fun and would be cheaper than flying without the pre-requisite pat down by the TSA.

I have a friend that would like to see snow in Tennessee and I am thinking a train ride would be great seeing as neither of us are familiar with driving in snow but I doubt she would be interested in driving to New Orleans to catch a train to Tennessee.

So help me make it possible for the Sunset Limited to be restored back to its full route pre-Katrina.  Follow this link to contact AmTrak and mention interest in having the Sunset Limited restored beyond New Orleans into the Florida panhandle.

UPDATE:

Also please, contact your State Representatives as well.  It is more up to the states to help in this matter as the train stations are owned by state or local municipalities and it will require their help on this as well.

Zombie Apocalypse

There are many sources out there that tell of the Zombie Apocalypse, how it begins, how to survive and how to prepare.  Most, if not all, movies, stories and video games depict the Apocalypse beginning via some sort of government or corporate lab accident that sends the virus out into the world to re-animate the dead.  That version is the most popular as seen in 28 Days, Resident Evil, and so many others to numerous to list.

Those are mostly examples of accidents.  Someone being careless and causing the world to become infected.

What if someone wasn't careless?  What if someone didn't break open a vial of T-virus to infect an underground lab facility for the shits and giggles?  But left without anyone ever knowing or being caught?

Let's stop there with what their motivation would be to want to do something such as that and go ahead and paint them as the type that would unleash the virus for the hell of it outside of the safety of a confined lab.

Where would they do it?

If it was I who was to pick the spot, it would begin in a big city.  Lots of people that could potentially be infected before anyone would know what has happened.  If it was meant to go globally quickly, it would be a big city with an international airport.  Someplace like New York City, Atlanta, or Los Angeles.

The next question, who would be infected first?  The homeless and poor.  These groups of people are not generally cared for or have the means to seek medical care once they begin to show signs of sickness.  They tend to have to tough it out and let whatever it is pass till they get better.  With the homeless, there really isn't much for them except for maybe a travelling clinic that may come by to check up on them from time to time.  The poor might go to a clinic but mostly will just get some over the counter medication, take it and stay home for the duration.

The homeless, once infected and turned will start to easily turn the other homeless they become in contact with.  The general shuffling of a zombie could easily be mistaken as that of a normal homeless person and would go without notice or remark amongst the uninfected who would think it is just another homeless person moving about.  This would be crucial for the infection to spread as no quarantines or aggressive eradication would be begin in the meantime.

The poor would have the greater chance of discovery but also the greater chance of infecting others as they tend to continue to work in their jobs even when sick.  If one was to turn while working at their job, then they could at that point begin to infect those that are around them.

Once the infection begins and is spotted by authorities, it is already too late.  Those that would be bitten would seek medical treatment considering all of the non-zombie diseases out there but many people would  not go for a simple scratch.  Most people in big cities if confronted with a homeless person would generally push them away and then leave quickly but in that instance of pushing the homeless person away, the non-infected would greatly increase the risk of walking away with their undoing.

Feeling Out

Remember when you first meet someone and there is that connection that is felt enough for the two of you to continue dating to relationship status?  Every time that we meet someone new that we are interested in, we are  always on our best behavior.  We are polite, cordial, use our manners and such but why?  I know best foot forward and all but unless you are trying to change yourself from being what you always are, why change yourself at the beginnings of a relationship just to entice the person over for some tea and crumpets?

Why not just be yourself in the beginning from the beginning?  Most relationships end because the people involved revert back to who they really are once they become comfortable in the relationship.  They then realize the person they are with, is not the person that they were attracted to in the first place and things fall apart.

This is probably one of the main reasons that people cheat.  The person they cheat with is attracted to them because they are probably tired of this 'new' person they have been dating and are letting their real personality out in frustration.  They may not be meaning to cheat but it happens.

I am quite comfortable where I am at in this point.  I am not going to try to re-invent myself for the purpose of keeping someone at my side or attracting someone just so that when I get comfortable, they find themselves dating an asshole that doesn't give a rat's ass.  I'm just gonna be that asshole that doesn't gives a rat's ass from the beginning.

Take me warts and all.

DVD/BluRay

I don't own a Blu-ray player; never saw the need for one but after watching a movie last night (Bad Teacher), the lack of extras got me thinking.

Remember when DVD first came out, it was the replacement of the long standing VHS tape.  A wonder of technology and black magic that would allow movies that were 3+ hours long, (Titanic) that took three tapes to show the entire movie, could now be placed on just one disc that would hold the entire movie plus extras.  Those extras consisted of interviews, deleted scenes, alternate endings and whatever the studio felt to throw on there.

This was mostly done to get the techies over to the new medium and for them to drag everyone else over with them.

Now with Blu-ray, you have even more room to put stuff on the disc.  So when Blu-ray came out, it had all of the aforementioned DVD extras, but Blu-ray offered multiple angles for scenes, true HD, digital 7.1 sound, advanced options during movie playback and 3DTV support.

All of this is wonderful to get people to convert over from DVD to Blu-ray but I wonder if Blu-ray has started doing what DVD has been doing for awhile now? That is not packing the 50 GB of disc space available with all that is possible.

Seems that only certain movies will get the extra attention with DVD releases, others just get shipped with just the movies.  DVD has for the most part become only movies, some extra content but nothing like before.  DVD movies used to have scene selections in them.  Which was great if you had a favorite part of a movie you wanted to go right to without all of other stuff before it without having to forward through it all.  Not any more, very few movies have that option on the menus.

Since I don't own  a Blu-ray player or movies, I wonder how long they will keep up adding all the extra stuff in the discs or if they have abandoned it already?

Working

I'm tired of it.  The stress, the anxiety and the whole lot of getting up in the morning, I'm done.

I want to do something different.  Myself and a friend have kinda talked about opening a bar.  Could work right?

Maybe I just need a Sugar Momma.  Or win the lottery.

Wanted: Sugar Momma.  Willing to give money to me for free.  Clean up nicely for public outings.  Not some buff CK model but normal looking guy.  All interested parties email me.

Sick

I'm not sick, I'm perfectly healthy (as far as I know, that is).

Why is it that as soon as people get a sniffle or a little stuffy or congested, they run straight to the Dr.'s office for a shot or a prescription?  I understand going if you have been sick and it isn't going away, but not at the first sign of getting sick.  It could be a simple change in the weather or allergies, nothing that a little time wouldn't take care of.

Yet, people go over the simplest of things.  The Dr. gives the shot/prescription with the instructions, "If it doesn't clear up or you start to feeling better in a few days, come back."

Why not just let the sickness run it's course?  If it is just allergies or the simple cold, it will clear up in a few days on it's own, no need to go to the Dr.

I have friends that have kids.  Ok, babies to be more precise.  I see them posting on Facebook that little Ishmail has a runny nose, taking him to the Dr.  Why?  I understand that infants/babies/children are fragile things, but you aren't letting their bodies build up any resistance to the germs by getting them medicine all the time.  You are only helping with the germs become more resilient to the medicine that is being used to fight it in the first place.  Which means that little Ish's kids will have some super-bug that the medicine that worked when Ishy was a baby, won't work now.

Thanks people for helping destroy the world.

Finding Bigfoot

There is a show on Animal Planet (a Discovery channel) that freaks me out.  It's called, Finding Bigfoot.  This is a show were four people go around the country investigating stories of Bigfoot encounters.   Anywhere from the great northwest to the swamps of south Florida in their investigations.  They hear the stories from the local(s) that were involved, then go about researching the area for clues and signs of the creature or creatures.

This is were it tends to get a little freaky for me.

During this time, they are usually out in the area of the sightings, in the dark, at night, in the late hours, looking for Bigfoots.  Using infrared cameras; the ones that cast that hauntingly green hue to the subjects, thermal cameras and even calling the Bigfoots.

Yes, CALLING the Bigfoots.

How?

There are a couple of methods to do so.  There is 'knocking' where you take a solid piece of wood and hit a tree with it, which sounds like a bat hitting a baseball.  There is calling, where they will either employ one of the members to 'call' a Bigfoot, which is like howling sort of or they will use audio equipment to broadcast a recorded call of a Bigfoot.

Of course the editing of the show does nothing to ease the suspense of what is going on, they will cut to commercial just as someone hears, sees or thinks something is going on and as soon as it comes back, they replay the moment to keep building the suspense.

To date of the few episodes that I have seen, they have not gotten anything substantial in the way of proof.  Just some weirdness, knocks, calls and maybe some other evidence but nothing really on camera or any of them being mauled by a Bigfoot.

It's one of those shows that get me drawn in when I don't want to be, especially when I know it will freak me out.

I wonder if it is on tonight?

10 Years Later

Today is the 10 year anniversary remembrance of 9/11.  I say remembrance because to me anniversaries should be happy moments, not something that was filled with terror, with not knowing and the uncertainty of the future.

I knew today was coming with all the spots on TV for the upcoming specials that would air today, with the "Where were you posts?" on Facebook but I still lapsed when seeing a post on Facebook asking, "Where were you?"  I responded in my usual funny-not-so-serious-self with, "I know where I was, where were you?"  They post where they were and my response to that was for them to lay off the shrooms.  I did not realize until noticing the other comments on their initial post and subsequently catching the date, it was after midnight after all, that I put two and two together and felt a little like an ass.

Just a little.

Fast forward a few hours and me coming to the realization of the above, the date and having some sleep, I started to think about 9/11 some today.  9/11 was to this generation what Pearl Harbor was to our grandparents generation, a moment that will live in infamy.  A heinous act that was propagated by people that hated us and wanted to see us fall as a nation.  With Pearl Harbor, the attack thrust us into the ongoing war that was World War II.  It steeled us into action, changing our industries from peace time production, to war time; giving our men and women a shot of nationalism to swell the ranks of our military to face the fight head on.

9/11 was much different than that of Pearl Harbor for this generation.  We had a swelling of national pride, we bought flags, tshirts with the flag on it and started buying more American products in general.  There was no war to join, only one to start but we were not sure exactly where to start.  With intelligence that the U.S. had at the time, it was decided that the Taliban, the ruling faction in Afghanistan, were harboring Al-Qaeda along with Al-Qaeda's leader Osama bin Laden.  Al-Qaeda were the ones to blame for this tragedy. This was not a next day, clear cut action but a month later in October 2001, the U.S. invaded Afghanistan to overthrow the oppressive regime and to bring those responsible to justice.

This was not a short term action by the U.S., we were in it for the long haul.  The U.S. went to war with Iraq, overthrowing Saddam Hussein and installing a democracy in that country and the while still chasing down Bin Laden.  It would take the U.S. 9 long years to finally track down Bin Laden and kill him.

Are we safer?  We like to think so.  Was justice served?  To the families that lost loved ones during 9/11, we liked to believe so.

Through all of this, what have we gained?  There are still people out there that hate us Americans, they hate our ideas, our way of life, our freedom.

Will we ever truly be safe? Sadly, we will not.  The world has gotten too small and the discordance with other peoples too great for anyone, American or otherwise to be safe from a person or people that wish to see your end of life.  With some money, some documents, an airline ticket, you can be anywhere in the world in a day to ruin anybodies life, if you so wish.  Technology can only do so much in protecting us from outsiders that wish to come here to do us harm but as the saying goes, "Where there is a will, there is a way."

Day 4: No Phone

My Droid started messing up a couple of days ago to the point it became unusable.  The problem was that the screen would not register on the right quarter side any touches, which made typing messages or emails or Facebook posts next to impossible, especially if I wanted to use those letters.  So I checked into the insurance that I was supposed to have through Verizon and I am told that I do not have any, even though it was supposed to on there when I got the phone but no amount of arguing would fix that.  Then I remembered that when I got the phone through Wirefly, that there was some sort of insurance through them.  I looked online, found the website and sent the phone off on Monday.

Monday was my first day really without the phone.  I was still dicking around with it on Sunday trying to get it to work throughout the day, so that doesn't count.  Monday I was at work, cut off from FB, as the phone was my portal to that dirty world of attention whores but I managed to keep my mind off not having a phone.  Monday afternoon I went to the gym after work.  That is where I really noticed the lack of phone, since I use the Droid as an MP3 player at the gym.  I can listen to my music and not whatever pop crap they are playing that day.

Tuesday was went it got real.  I started to detox.  Cold sweats, sick to my stomach and the shakes were all there.  I looked like a heroin addict that hasn't had a fix in a few days, people were worried.  I left work early to sleep it off.  A barely managed to get out the door without pushing some lady down and taking her phone away from her just so I could play some Angry Birds.  It took all I had.

Wednesday, I was off work, which made the whole not having a phone much, much worse.  I could access FB at home but texting someone was still not available to me.  I check the status of my phone almost hourly for any updates but nothing new.  To ease my mind, I mow the backyard.  That takes all of thirty minutes before I am done.  It helped a little.  I take a shower then go to the gym.  Again, I have to listen to some John Mayer crap coming across the speakers instead of some AC/DC blasting in my ears.  I press on.  The rest of the day is easier.  I stopped into a gun shop looking to end it all but there is a 3 day waiting period.  I guess if I don't have my phone back by Monday, I can end it all.

Thursday, still no phone or update.  I have been sitting at the house sore.  Must've overdone it at gym or mowing on Wednesday or maybe still detoxing.  I'm going stir crazy.  Alcohol hasn't eased the pain of withdrawals.  I just stare at the bottle pushing imaginary buttons thinking I'm making phone calls or sending off texts to someone.  I think I need help.

I am hoping that the phone is unfixable and they have to send a new one.  Perhaps a Droid 2 or something of that nature.  I do hope that they don't open it up and 'find' water damage or excessive corrosion like I've read on the internet when looking at information of the insurance company.

I'm going to lie down now, maybe ease this headache I've got coming on.

Skyline

I watched Skyline today.  I'm not sure why it was called Skyline as there was no mention of skylines in the movie.

This movie is your standard us vs. them type of movie.  Us, being the unconquerable humans and our never-go-down-without-a-fight attitude vs. some alien race looking to wipe us out.

Now this movie is not your standard of those type of films, ala, Independence Day where they tell multiple stories throughout with the most common of people, all the way to highest ranking official in the land but Skyline only focuses on a small group of people fighting for survival.  The military is in the movie but not in some grand battle like ID4 but only in bits in pieces.  It never is explained as to why the military doesn't react sooner, maybe they are one of the first people to be taken by the aliens.

Taken?

Yeah, the aliens are taking humans en masse for our brains.  The aliens must be some sort of hyper-evolved zombie space faring race.

The movie has only one story line and that is the guy and girl we meet at the beginning are gonna have a child. The woman tells the man only after they make it to L.A. from N.Y. while there to celebrate his buddies birthday.

No, I do not remember their names or anyone else's from the movie as the movie did not endear itself to me nor did those characters.

Everyone gets harvested that is in the movie or dies, except at the end when they guy and girl are taken in the ship.  He has his brain removed via having his head and skull vaporized; she gets to keep hers for the time being, since she is with child.

Here it gets interesting, all other brains that get removed, scanned, processed and get implanted into some sort of beast, all of those brains are blue.  The guy's brain is red for some reason and gets implanted into same type of beast as the others.  Seems he is able to overcome the new body and control it since he had a red brain, I guess.  In the process he is able to save the girl and baby, for the time being.

Movie ends.

Just a thought, as they are scanning these brains and notice a discrepancy, I would think that any abnormal colored brains would be rejected from the group.  I would imagine drug users, mental instabilities and other trauma would affect the brain in an odd way that the aliens would go, "Naahhhh, not acceptable."  Maybe these space zombies are just too hungry for some gray to ignore.

There is a motto here though: Love conquers all or Love knows no bounds.

Your pick.

Fired

The weight of the car shifts as the jack rises with each twist of the handle, only to slip off the cradle of the jack and landing the tire on my rather ill-placed fingers. 

“FUCK! MOTHERFUCKER! GODDAMNIT! ARRGHHH!” The curses explode from my mouth in a torrent till the initial shock of having the front end of a car sitting on one’s fingers passes, to think clearly enough to be able to find a way out of the situation.  Focusing on the task at hand and not the tire on the hand, I slowly lower the jack, reposition it back under the car and once more start the process of lifting the tire off of the ground.; hopefully this time, without it sliding off once more.

Oh, did I mention it was raining? No? Well, it is, as in, as a downpour. 

Of course no other driver is slowing down or easing over a little or even offering assistance.  It seems every car that passes seems to be hitting the puddle behind me and spraying me every time one of those fuckers passes.  Karma’s a bitch.  I hope they realize that.  I hope that something happens one day to them; them alone, that is substantially worse that being sprayed with water as they pass in the pouring rain while having fingers caught under a vehicle.  Something along the lines of getting your man-meat caught in a blender while making margaritas during a pool orgy.

After what seems like an eternity, I manage to free myself from the Goodyear finger trap, finish changing the flat tire and continue heading to work.  Luckily, I don’t believe my fingers are broken, sore but not broken.  I can wiggle them and they still look straight, just hurt like hell.  Good thing I was off the side of the road in the grass, otherwise, my fingers would look like some Tex Avery wolf cartoon fingers.

Pull into work late, not that I am some paragon of on-time attendance but late in this regard means like a couple of hours late, not some usual run-of-the-mill 15 minutes late, so I mean late. This wouldn’t really be a bad thing on any normal day but today there is a special meeting that I am to attend that started 30 minutes ago.  By the way, this is a very important special meeting that is a must attend type of thing and I’m fucking late to it.

Willy, that’s my boss, spots me as I walk in… No, Willy is not yellow, does not speak with a Scottish accent or speaks of the years he was a janitor at a high school in Springfield.  Though, everyone that knows him makes fun of him as if he did.

Anyways…

So Willy spots me and intercepts me on my way to the meeting. “You’re not going in there.  You know you’re late, right? Besides that, you look like crap.  You’re filthy and soaking wet.  Did you run to work?’  He says in a tone parents tend to reserve for their children.

“I know I’m late,” not going to further on the fact that I am almost always late.  “I had a flat tire, car slipped, landed on my fingers but I’m ok.”

“You’re still not going in there and your fingers don’t look broke.  I think you are lying to me.”

Great, just fucking great.  Being called a liar as if this is some story I concocted to explain my excessive tardiness.  “My fingers aren’t broken; the ground was soft from the rain and sank in.  They are just sore but otherwise fine.  I have a spare set of clothes that I was going to change into before the meeting as well.”

“The meeting isn’t important right now.  What I want you to do is go home and think about this until you come in to get your last paycheck.”

“Wait, what? You’re letting me go?  Just for nothing?! You’re letting me,--“

“You need to leave before I call security and have you escorted off the property.”

With that, I left the building. 

Now, I’m not really the violent sort, but today was just one of those days.  Fired, soaking wet, fingers hurting and all that just lead me to being pissed off.  So to relax, I decided to take up the game of golf.  I decided to fix my being teed off, I would tee off on my former boss. 

No cameras in the parking lot, no security, no lights and its dark when he leaves.  I wait by his Corvette and when he unlocks it, I come around and crack him hard in the knee.  His knee crumples under the blow, he gasps in pain as he starts to go down.  I swing again contacting his hip and he lets out an agonizing yell of pain.  I consider for a moment on just leaving him there but decide a parting shot would do wonders for my therapy.  So, one more shot to the back of the knee on the other leg for the coup de grace.

Dreams

With an amazing acuity that rarely happens to me, I managed to remember a dream when I woke up this morning.  Now, like most of us, I normally forget it but on the way into work, it came back to me. Even now as I type this, I remember it quite vividly.  Which is odd, considering that it has been 14 hours since I woke up.

The dream went like this, I am at a garage standing next to a large work table that slightly resembles those used on motorcycle shows like American Chopper or West Coast Choppers but bigger and wider.  Like for a car perhaps.  On this table is an over-sized milk crate that has an engine from a car in it.

The mechanic asks, "What's in the crate?"

"What?! You don't recognize the motor from an '83 Buick Regal?!" I quipped back.

"Where's the rest of it?"

"Oh, it's coming.  Can you do the job like I want?" I asked.

"It'll get done.  Don't worry about that." the mechanic reassured.  And with that, I left.

--------------------------

I have no clue what that means.

Discuss.

Road Trip

"What the hell are we listening to?" bemoaned the ever cultured Jennifer.

"Cruise Missile by the Dixie Dregs."

"When are they gonna start singing?  All I hear is screeching guitar."

"There is no singing in this song, it is all instrumental.  Just shut up and listen to it, it's not a bad song." 

"Can we put in my CD after? I really don't want to hear anymore of this crap."  She asked in a rather pissed off and annoyed voice.

"And what CD would that happen to be?"

"Jagged Little Pill."

"Huh?  You wanna put in a screeching, un-clean, hipster, indie-chic after this?  Are you kidding me or did I die and go to hell?"

"What's wrong with Alanis?"

"Nothing.  She is a great song writer, singer but that one song, You Oughta Know is a screech-fest that makes male cats horny and looking for some.  I for one do not want a herd of Toms chasing after the car trying to make with the loving whilst we drive down the highway."

"We won't play that song. OK?"

"How about we don't play the CD, period.  After all, the agreement was I got to choose the music for this ride, to and from, and you had to sit there, like a good little girl and take it.  Remember that?  Because I certainly do.  It was one of the reasons I agreed to come, if not the main reason I chose to come."

"I'm changing the rules."  She tried to assert some sort of control into the situation.

"HA! If you remember, I am the one behind the wheel.  I'll careen us off the side of the road into the ditch before I let you choose the music.  I remember last time we went anywhere and it was a marathon of the Dixie Chics the entire time.  I small part of me died that day, so thanks for that."  

"How can I change your mind?"

Desperation has now entered the bargaining table. This will be fun.

"Road head."  I state matter-of-factly.

"What's that?"

"That is where a girl; that would be you, gives a guy; that would be me, a blowjob, in a car, while it travels down the road."

"Not in your life."  

She sounded disgusted.  Either way it's a win-win for me, I either get a BJ or I continue to listen to the music I want to hear for the next several hours.

I wonder how she likes the musical stylings of Black Label Society, hopefully not long, as I could use a BJ.

Meredith

"For a good time call Meredith"

That was the number in the bathroom stall of the 'Lazy S' bar.  I was in a mood to drink and to drink a lot.  I was somewhere between feeling sorry for myself and not giving a fuck when I noticed Meredith's number on the wall.  Normally, I wouldn't even bat an eye or give a second thought to such a number that was most likely scrawled there by some scorned lover that thought her to be a whore, but what do I know.

I step outside to get away from the bad karaoke, only to step into the stifling heat of a mid-summer's night.  I grab a cigarette, pull my phone out of my pocket and dial the number.  The alcohol has me sweating like a Salem witch on trial but I'm nervous and anxious to see what this call brings forth.

2 a.m. and I'm dialing some number found on a bathroom wall.  Good way to be found dead in a week, I think to myself.

The phone rings three times and as I am about to hang-up on a bad idea, she picks up. "Hello?" she says in a sleepy just woken up voice.

"Is this Meredith?" I ask.

"Yes.  Who's asking?"

"I...uh...got your number...um..." Stammering on the words as I try to figure out how to explain I came about her number, then I just say, "Are you looking for a good time?"

"Is this some kind of joke?"

"No. It is not.  Are you looking for a good time?  Cause I'm in the mood for one."

"Look," she says with slight annoyance in her voice, "I am not a hooker or some slut.  Did Greg put you up to this?"

"I don't know a fucking Greg.  I'm looking for something wet to jerk off into and your it."

"I told you, I'm not a fucking whore."

"And I'm not looking to pay."

A long silence ensues.  For a moment I think she hung up and then, "Do you smoke?"

"You want me to pick you up some smokes on my way over?" I ask rather sarcastically.

"No dumbass.  Do you smoke weed and do you have any?  Those are my terms.  No weed, no good time.  Got it?"

Her terms?  Sounds good to me.  "Deal."

Wish me luck.

Happiness & Acceptance

A friend on Facebook posted that they were empty inside and that they wished they were happy like they used to be and this got me thinking, "What is 'Happiness' and what is it that makes us feel 'Happy'?"

Happiness is not something you can force, it is something that is brought upon by a release of dopamine into the body from things or moments that make us happy.  Those things or moments bring forth little episodes of Happiness that pass all too soon, but it is a string of those same moments or things that keep the feeling going and start to bring forth the belief of a general Happiness.  This is the times of our lives that in the future we reflect back upon to say we were Happy, when we are down in the dumps and we wish we were back at that moment of time so we could be Happy once more.

Happiness is more than things or moments, it is also acceptance.  It is accepting the fact that there are some things we cannot change, no matter how powerful or in control we think we are.  Is accepting that our last relationship didn't work out because of their unfaithfulness, no matter how Happy they made us feel.  It is their infidelity that cannot be changed and must be accepted as such.  Once you accept that certain things cannot be changed or only changed slowly through time, can you find Happiness.  It is the acceptance of being in debt, of having a cheating mate, of the passing of friends or family or many other things, that you must come to terms with first, before you can find true Happiness.  Without that acceptance, you will constantly crash against the hopelessness of those things, lamenting on how the world is unfair and you can never be Happy.  You will just be focusing on the negative in a downward spiral of unhappiness that will lead to things that lead to short term Happiness, i.e. drugs, alcohol, adrenaline rushes, emotionless sex.  These are short term fixes that just leave you wanting more and looking for your next fix, that never truly solves the problem of not accepting the underlying causes of the unhappiness.

Just remember:  "Don't worry -- be Happy."  -Meher Baba

Inception

I watched Inception the other day.

That might be a surprise to some seeing how I mentioned if given the chance, I would punch DiCaprio in the neck and that I have no love for him at all.  Reason is, it seems that he always plays the smarmy, cocky, self-absorbed types in most of his movies.  The type of guy that you might consider a friend, but try your best not to have him around all too much, simply because you cannot stand him.

So anywhoo.

I liked Inception, even through my hatred for one person, I liked it.  The idea that you can enter into someone's mind through there dreams, is an interesting idea and that while you are there, can steal information from them, is even better.

In the movie, DiCaprio's character has to enter into the mind of a newly appointed owner of a power conglomerate and plant an idea for him to break apart the company.  For them to do this, they have to go three levels deep, which means they have to go within a dream, within a dream, within a dream to be able to plant the seed of the idea.

Does it work?  

The ending doesn't give you a clear answer.  You see, during them dreaming, one of the characters is shot and wounded in the first dream, they take him deeper into the next two dreams, which is all good, except he dies in the first dream, killing him in the other two.  Normally you would just wake up, but because of the drugs they are using, you just go deeper into your dreams.

Why does all of that matter?

Well, the character in question is going to be responsible in helping DiCaprio be able to legally go back home to the States, since he is wanted for the death of his wife.  So, without this guy out of the dream state, all of this is for naught and DiCaprio's character goes deeper to find the guy and bring him back.

So they all get out and DiCaprio's character gets to see his children once again and live happily ever after and go see Shrek 15? 

Not so fast.  The last parting scene is DiCaprio's character walking out to see his kids after spinning a toy top on a table and the movie ends before seeing if the top stops.

What?

I'm not gonna give the complete movie away.  I'm not that big of an asshole.

So anyways, good movie, go see it.

Winn-Dixie Fuel Perks

If you live in the South, you are probably within a short drive of a Winn-Dixie supermarket, that in and of itself is not necessarily a noteworthy thing but for this article it is.  Winn-Dixie has this program going on and has been on going for some time, called Fuel Perks.  Now, the basis of this program is that when you spend so much money at the store, you are credited cents off of gallons of gas at your next fill-up.  It starts with five cents and goes up for every fifty dollars you spend and sometimes they have special deals where if you buy certain items, it automatically adds x amount of cents to your card.

Now this is a nice incentive to buy from Winn-Dixie stores.  You get food, plus money off your next purchase of fuel.  Win, Win.  Right?

Wrong.

This is a no brainer, how can saving money on gas by buying food be wrong?

Simple.  It's a racket.  Meaning that Winn-Dixie is conditioning you to buy there just to get money off of fuel so that anytime you need something, you are more likely to get into your vehicle and drive to the nearest Winn-Dixie while bypassing all other places of convenience along the way to purchase your loaf of bread and gallon of milk.  All in the hopes that this five bucks you will be spending, will put you over to saving ten cents a gallon on your next fill-up.  Of course your little trip was five miles one way, in which, you passed three gas stations, a Dollar General, a Super Wal-Mart and a mom & pop grocery store.

All of which, would have been closer and several would have been cheaper but in your quest to save a few pennies at the pump, you spent more in it driving your LandCrusher6000C.

Life Test

How long will you live. 

Read that first.

Okay?

The question that it arises, is would you have something like this performed to find out how much longer you'll live?

With information like that how would you finish out the rest of your life?  Would you find religion and strive to right the wrongs you have committed in the past?  Would you live life to the fullest each and everyday, striving to try the next big thing and go out with a bang?

Is it even worth knowing when you'll die?  Shouldn't that be the big surprise in life, when you are going to kick the bucket?  Sure, if you don't know, you might live your life or you may end up being some sedentary, just living your life on a couch.  Whereas, if you knew how long you had, you might go out and do great things.

Or would you?

Before 30

Blogger is apparently down, but I have something to say and I won't be deterred.

On FB, my real FB not the page for this site, a friend posted they need to accomplish something before the big 3-0.  So here is my list for all you kiddos that are looking to make your mark in life.

Rob a bank.

Go on a shooting spree.

Burn a village of indigenous people in some dirt water country.

Streak the Superbowl.

Make a porno and show to a gathering of world leaders.

Throw poo at the monkeys at the zoo.

Grow weed and sell it.

Go to a job interview all Charlie Sheen'ed.

Operate heavy machinery under the influence of an OTC medicine.

Wreck a flash mob.

Run a marathon...naked.

Hold your breathe until you pass out while riding a motorcycle.

Have a kid.

Eat said kid.

Steal a yacht.

Sink a yacht.

Jump off a balcony.

Delete all your friends on FB, then add complete strangers.

Follow random strangers around the mall.

Facebook Is Making Me An Asshole

Facebook is making me an asshole.  It truly is.  It has taken my normal caring and concerning attitude towards my friends and has slowly begun eroding it down to the level of 'I don't give a fuck.'

How has this happened?

Like most things within the world of Facebook, it starts of innocent enough.  You make posts, friends comment or like what you have to say and everyone has a jolly good time.  In time, however, things start to change and that you become tired of some of the drivel that comes across your newsfeed, most of it usually pertaining to somebody's drama dealing with family, wife/husband, boyfriend/girlfriend, work, friends and of course, friends on Facebook.  All of this usually by the people who claim they do not do drama.

Unfortunately, they have more drama than TNT.

After this long exposure of reading through other peoples craptastic, worthless posts, I have become jaded to the whole thing and no longer care.  I no longer care that your family are a bunch of losers; you can choose your friends but not your family, so get over it.

I no longer care that some bitches are talking shit about you; maybe there is a reason, if not, then delete them and forget about it.

I no longer care about the next big medical non-issue you have; it's called being a hypochondriac, look it up and stop watching all those shows about parasites living inside you.

I no longer care that you do not have the wherewithal to go out to find a job; it's warming up, so get off your ass and go find a job, there are places hiring.

I no longer care that you are a lazy, slovenly, slob that cannot motivate yourself to lose weight; put down the fucking video game and go for a walk, the fresh air will do wonders.

I just no longer care that once a month you post that it is time to 'clean house'; if you delete me, boo-fucking-hoo, you weren't a true friend to begin with.

See what I mean, I am being turned into an asshole.

Women like assholes, so maybe my love life will start to liven up.

Lindsey

Lindsey was a voluptuous woman that was well proportioned for her age.  Lindsey took care of herself by eating right, working out and not taking unnecessary  risks.  Her profession of choice was that of a barber, which is quite an oddity considering she detested men.  Not that she was lesbian, she was not, but she detested the over testosteroned, Neanderthal-like men that walked and talked like they were God's gift to a woman but never were.

Lindsey started out her career after beauty school at an upscale boutique in the well to do part of town, quickly garnering quite a following with many of the women who's hair she cut on occasion.  The only problem that Lindsey had while working there, was it would infuriate her on an almost daily basis knowing that many of the women that she serviced were married to the type of men she hated.  Which, normally was not a problem, but as with any sort of hairstylist, the client and beautician would build up a rapport with each other the more often they would see each other and with Lindsey that meant that she discovered that many of her clientele only married to attain affluence through their well to do husbands.  She could let that pass with some of the ladies that had their own careers or had their own businesses, but could not and would not with the ladies that did not have any sort of education and was just riding the coat tails of their husband.  They would claim they were for women's rights and other such causes, but probably wouldn't know how to survive out in the real world without laying on their back with their legs spread up in the air.

Lindsey at first, would go about her business as these women would prattle about all of their 'causes', how much they 'loved' their husbands; while they were secretly doing the pool boy Carlos on the side, but as with most things, they started to come to a head and Lindsey started to voice her opinions.  This of course did not set well with the ladies that so loved her doing their hair, but they would tolerate it since she did such a wonderful job and besides, what would such a person as a hairstylist know about life, as all she does is cut and style hair.  Thus, things would go on for awhile, with an uneasy relationship, until Lindsey said something to a very well connected woman, who took great offense with what opinions Lindsey was spouting off.  So upset was this woman that she threatened to sue, not only the opinionated Lindsey, but the boutique as well and would tell all of her other lady friends about the very poor service and rudeness she was presented with.

Naturally with any sort of threat like that, any business owner would cave, no matter how many clients an employee brings in but a threat to lose much more, is cause for alarm, to which Lindsey was summarily dismissed from her duties.

Which leads us to the present, where Lindsey works at an all woman barbershop; not that they only serve women but that they are all women cutting hair on a mostly male clientele.  Which is not ideal for Lindsey but she can still do what is her chosen profession; even if it is on a mostly male clientele.

She goes to work numbing herself mentally to the idea that most of the men that she will be cutting today are the type of men that she despises and she tries to condition herself knowing that a few will ask her out, a few will ogle her and some will even 'accidentally' cop a feel.  All of this she sets aside in her mind every day by telling herself that this is only temporary and that one day one of the boutiques will look at her credentials and take her in, but till that day, she will have to cope with these Neanderthals.

As with any job that anyone of us has in our lifetimes, we begin our time there on our best behavior and when we become easy with our bosses and other co-workers, we tend to slip into our own personalities.

This is what Lindsey started to do.  At first, it was slight remarks towards the men.  Their personalities, careers, lifestyles or anything that she had quite a differing opinion about.  Almost anything that would get under anyone's skin.  Always just a quick jab of a remark that would catch the ire of the man but not so much to cause a ruckus over; for Lindsey knew that a man would respect a woman that had sharp instruments in her hands and would dare not say anything in rebuke to the contrary.

This at the beginning was acceptable to Lindsey but then she wanted to hurt these men in some sort of fashion, so she would start to accidentally nick them a little, give haircuts a little too short or not exactly short enough, leave the back lopsided or the sideburns.  Just little things that would go mostly unnoticed by most of the men by would lessen their looks some to the women they would be dating by making them look slightly disheveled or unkempt.

One day while washing the hair of one of the knuckle dragger's hair, she happened to notice that she was being ogled and when he noticed that she noticed, he did not stop, just grinned and said, "Nice."  This incensed Lindsey instantly.  She began to forceful finish with him in a way that could not be confused in anyway that she was pleased with his actions.  This did not perturb the man in anyway, he just continued to ogle, occasionally verbalizing with an, "Mmmm" or "Nice."

Without thinking to what she was doing, Lindsey grabbed a pair of scissors and jabbed them into the man's left eye.  The man let out a howl of pain, sat straight up in the chair and began screaming like a child.  Holding his eye with blood and vitreous fluid seeping through his fingers dripping down to the floor.  Everyone else in the barbershop just stopped in absolute horror as Lindsey just turned and walked outside as calm as can be.  Not a word passed from her lips or from anyone else's for that matter.  The other barbers did not know what to do so they just stood there in shock, their clients were mostly shocked as well.

One man that was waiting, noticed what had happened and quickly sprang to action.  He and a few others, helped the man out of the chair to lay down on the floor, where the scissors were removed and a clean towel was placed over the eye to help control the bleeding.  When the paramedics arrived, the man was in shock but would survive.  The police arrested Lindsey who was found outside sitting on the curb smoking a cigarette as calmly and coolly as if she was on break.

Rebel

I've decided I am a rebel.

This isn't through some sort of mid-life crisis or confusion of identity but through general observation of myself and those around me.

Now what makes me a rebel you ask?  I wear a helmet when I ride, while many that I see do not.  I know that doesn't sound very rebel-ish, but considering being a rebel is one who rebels and I rebel against those that do not wear, I think it fits.

I'm not a big person to tell others what precautions they should or should not take while they ride or what they should or should not be wearing, I prefer to let natural selection take its course.  I can hear some of you now, "Big deal," "Real men don't need a helmet," and so forth and so on but I prefer to protect what precious life I have for as long as I have; especially when those other drivers in cars don't pay attention as is.  Considering that most motorcycle fatalities could have been prevented if the rider had been wearing a helmet, I think I'll take those odds rather than gambling by not wearing one.

Techno Date

Here I am sitting at another upscale chic bar with another date hoping that this one goes somewhere other than nowhere as all the rest have.  Unfortunately, the girl I am with is one of those obsessively materialistic persons that has the newest of the new whiz-bang cool phones that can do anything you ask it to and if it can't there is probably an app for it do so.

In a nutshell, she is sitting across from me eyes glued to that tiny screen, thumbs moving at a speed that can best described as a Jackrabbit on speed, completely ignoring me.  She is probably tweeting, texting or updating her Facebook telling the world how much of a sucky date this is.

I take a long draw off of the beer that sits before me and with a clinking, return the bottle back to the table.  I get a quick glance from her in a moment of complete stillness from those lightening thumbs for me to give her a half-cocked smile, only for her to just as quickly return back to the never ceasing thumb action.  I bet should could whip a middle schoolers ass in thumb wrestling.

"Put the phone down," I say to her with a slightly annoyed tone hoping to maybe salvage what sanity I have left from sitting here essentially by myself drinking alone.  She looks up at me again, though this time with a little less brevity than before.  An opening that I gather to use to further, perhaps even to, continue a conversation with another living, breathing, human being that isn't on the other end of some battery powered device.  "I would like to do more than sit here while you do whatever it is you are doing and perhaps get to know each other through talking."

"So talk, I'll listen." As she glances down back to the soul sucking device designed by Hell itself, gives it a quick little smile and engages the turbo thumbs once more.

"I'm not sure you are or will, you seem a bit distracted."  No reply comes from the zombie sitting across from me, just a glazed look staring down at the succubus held between her hands.  I swear I see a small trickle of drool forming at the corner of her mouth. "I hit a homeless man on my way here but I didn't want to be late, so I kept on driving.  I'll check on him on my way back home to see if he is still there or at least crawled off into the brush to die like some wounded deer after being hit by a tractor trailer loaded down with pig heads nailed to a flatbed."

"Heh."

Heh? Was that a laugh at what I just said or was it some primal guttural response to some inane thing she just read on that infernal device? I glance around the bar noticing all the other couples, talking, laughing with each other, not through some Hell Spawn but genuinely looking at each other, eye to eye, holding genuine conversations!  This is Hell or some sort of Bizarro World or the Twilight Zone.  I can hear the music now ringing in my ears.

I look back at little Dorothy of Droid, still thumping that phone with those hammers she must call thumbs.  I believe the world could come to a cataclysmic end and she would only learn about it through some update on Facebook to which her reply would be, "OMG!"

At this point I am done trying to pry little Miss Gollum's attention away from her Precious so I get up to go the restroom, say nothing to her upon leaving and receive nothing of any sort of acknowledgement that I left or a questioning of where I am going.  She is totally drawn in to the bright artificial glow of the tiny screen of doom.

Upon returning, I stop on my way back to survey the situation and see the same thing I have been seeing the entire evening.  I tell the waitress that I have to go, but my date has some friends on the way and that she offered to pay for my drinks even though I was uncomfortable with it, though she totally insisted.

Then I left to go home to have some meaningful conversation with some peeps playing Halo on the Xbox.

Numb II

I don't like hospitals.

Yet I am sitting outside once again with another passing of a family member. Seems we are dropping like flies.

This time it is my uncle that has left this plane for the next from a heart attack earlier today.  Seems drug use from the day before may have had something to do with it. This unverified but it wouldn't be a stretch if it was.

Let this be a lesson to you kids, drugs kill...eventually. May not be today or tomorrow but the effects from long time usage stays with you for your lifetime. They make you feel good for the short term but they are doing things to you that you do not feel or realize until years have passed, then it is too late.

I hope this death will be a lesson to some younger members of my family that have started to walk down the path of drug use. That they will realize that this family is cursed with a history of addiction. It is a fight that we fight throughout our lifetime from in utero till our passing breath. 

The true loss is that of his young son not being able to grow up without his dad. For his dad to teach him those lessons that only a father can pass to his son.

Another bastard growing up fatherless in this world.

Thinking

When I started this site it was gonna be a way for me to make money through ads; well, hopefully was the thinking but I don't have enough traffic for that to happen.  At the time, it was about random reflection or insight I was having, maybe some rants, reviews or some therapeutic post about some drama that I may have been having.  Nowadays, it is some of these type of posts, maybe some reflection or insight but mostly bits of fiction that I have been coming up with.

I of course still have the ads but am just not concerned with me making any money off of this thing or not.  If it happens, it happens; if not, then oh well.

When this all began, I was looking for Freedom.  Freedom from all things I felt shackled to, that is why the picture is of just that, a pair of shackles.  I was hoping to be free from all of those things.  Yet, I am still not.

Recently, I have been pondering was it Freedom that I was seeking?  I mean, money would help with a lot of the getting of this Freedom but would I still then be free?  Then I began to think what would grant me more Freedom and after a while, I think I came to an answer, Happiness.

Now I am looking for Happiness and along with this Happiness, I believe I shall find the Freedom that I have been seeking all along.

Memory

I feel the warmth of the sun on my skin.  I close my eyes and the light penetrates my eyelids to create an orange glow before my eyes.  The slight breeze brings to me the scent of the grass that I lay upon.  The coolness of the Earth entreats me to sleep and I oblige her request without hesitation.

My dreams haves always been filled with wild visions with monster, faeries, picturesque landscapes and all things in between.  At times they have brought visions of things to come but today, they haunt me with a love that has been lost to me.  She stands before me olive skinned with shimmering emerald eyes that you could easily get lost into for an eternity, a smile that could light up the darkest of rooms or lift the lowest of spirits, hair that was raven colored and ran the length of her back to her waist.  To me, she was perfection and to pardon the pun, an angel from Heaven that God Almighty created with care by his own two hands.

We met through mutual friends and quickly hit it off.  I would tell my lame jokes that usually results in groans or rolls of eyes from anybody else but with her, it would bring that magnificent smile or a laugh with such a melodious ring that you swore a chorus of Angels were singing.  We started dating almost immediately and quickly fell in love.  We felt it was destiny and neither of us felt that it could get any better.

I awake a few hours later with tears streaming down my face.  A sudden chill comes over me and I notice the sun was setting low on the horizon.  What was a warm day, has started to become a cool evening.  I arise, look around to get a feel for my surroundings and to take a moment to stretch before heading home when I get a feeling that I am being watched.  I slowly look around while pretending to continue to stretch to see if anyone is around but see no one.  Thinking it may be some sort of paranoia, I start heading home thinking nothing of it, with the memory of my love keeping me occupied.

Randomness

As you may have noticed there wasn't a post last week, the reason being, I just haven't had anything to say.  No rants, raves, personal reflection or fiction to write about.  I have been wrapped in the Dresden Files by Jim Butcher so that is likely the culprit of the lack of new content here.

One thing I would like to pass along is a video about Net neutrality.  Before seeing this video, I had no idea what Net neutrality was but just going by the name alone thought it was a good idea.



Perhaps I need a muse to be able to keep posting stuff up.