Crayola moments

I'm so over that drama from the other day. The whole thing is lame. So junior high. I can't blame myself for someone else's personal problems. She has problems that I can't even BEGIN to understand, problems that affect her everyday life, problems that are rooted in a very fucked up childhood. Another set of people who should never have brought a child into this world, who were too immursed in their drug habit to raise a child. Those are the people I like to thank for the state of the world today. Here's a heartfelt FUCK YOU to all those selfish mutherfuckers.

SOH...

Like I said, this girls got A LOTTA issues...manic depression, rock bottom self esteem... One of the most apparent of her issues is trust. When it comes to trust she has the mentality of a 15 year old gangster girl. You know the type...

"EH, BITCH...you wanna say 'dat chit to my FACE?! HUH fucker? 'Cause I KNOW you got sum chit to say 'cause I allreddy heard it frum muh homes, BITCH."

Yea.

I don't need this in my life. Friends are supposed to lift you up, not bring you down. I thought I could help this person by being her friend. By being there to listen. It's turned out that ALL I DO is listen. I can't take it anymore. It's time to let this one go and move on to greener pastures.

I'm SO fucking good at being my own therapist, huh? I should listen to myself! Naw, I'm gonna go with my gut on this one. My gut is screaming, "LEAVE IT, WILL YOU??"

On with life... I've had a nice couple of days. Tuesday was cousin Mark's birthday and we threw a little birthday dinner bash for him at my place. My brother Steve came over and made his famous clam pasta. That shit is amazing, man. He's gotta reduce THREE bottles of white wine into this tiny lil' thick sauce. It's quite the process. But the result, OH the result! The five of us (Ron, Steve, Ben, Mark and I) ate like kings. We also drank like, for lack of a better metaphore, fish. I think we went through two cases of beer. That's not counting the wine with dinner and the vodka shots toward the end of the evening. No, I don't remember a few things. Apparently I was laying on the cement outside with Stan. Ron says I came up to him and was all like, "Sssstan is SSssssso fuckin' coool, man. He's...he's such a cool c-c-hat. I love 'im sooo... LOOok! Lookit me hangin' with 'im! We're toadally catcheen crickets for Rosie!" How lovely. I do remember putting a cricket in Rosies cage at some point in the evening. However, things come to me in bits and pieces. I don't remember going to bed. AND OH the state of the house when I got up in the morning! Dishes EVERYWHERE. Potato chips and dried clam bits ALL over the carpet. The stove looked like someone had spilled tar all over it. I had to calm my neat freak self and just walk out of the house or I'd be an hour late for work. Just walk away...

When I got home last night I heard the most wonderful sound...the vacuum running! And it wasn't ME behind it! Ron had cleaned up all the dishes from around the house and was vacuuming up the chip mess when I walked in. Bless his heart. He did most of the dishes last night. Tonight I'll probably finish them.

I'm looking forward to this weekend. Saturday is Ron's company picnic. I haven't been to one of those in years! There's gonna be volleyball, body art, all sorts 'o games, food and music. Wooooo! Let's see how the electricians party, man! Then Sunday we're going to a museum of old car parts and shit. I'm not really sure. Sheesh...Ron and his cars. I love it though and am developing my own appreciation for old cars. Seems I have good taste, according to Ron and my dad. Shit though, I think it's about time for me to take him to a bird show. Hahaha! Now eet's MY TURN. Someday soon...

That's about it for now. I've got lots of work to do still. Gotta get out the rest of those backorders. I will leave you with a lovely picture of...



I just LOVE discovering music. It's like, I'd heard of this...I'd heard it, but I hadn't discovered it. Ya know? And I love this shit! I can't believe I didn't get into it sooner!

Later!