#30 For The Month!

The cold, dark month of November has been livened up by a thing called... NaBloPoMo. That is a quest to post a blog every single day throughout the month.

There are 30 days in the month, and that means 30 blogs have been posted by yours truly - R.E.H. (aka Rambling Madman). I hope you guys have enjoyed reading them as much as I have enjoyed writing them. Some of those posts may have been utter rubbish - not worth anyone's time and effort to read. Some posts may have made you chuckle a little, laugh some, cry a little or just made you realize that I really am mad...

Overall... it's been a good month. I've enjoyed it. I am glad it is over - not because I don't want to post every single day, but because I don't want to be pressured into posting every single day. Who knows... I might continue to blog on a near daily basis.

I had always planned to make a grand finale the final day of NaBloPoMo. But, as I told you yesterday I am coming down with a cold (or the dreaded flu), and so my brainwaves aren't really as sharp as I'd like them to be. So I will just ramble a little about what has happened over the course of the 30 days.

• On the 1st of the month, I told you about how much of a habitual man I am.
• The following days consisted mainly of my adventures to a company party, where I made out with a co-worker and where I had a "serious" conversation with another one of my co-workers.
• I took the opportunity one day to tell you about a woman who orgasms 200 times per day.
• Then I was teasing my readers by indicating I was about to reveal major news concerning The One.
• On the 12th of November my internet connection went down, and I thought I would miss out on the whole NaBloPoMo-thing because of it.
• Then I suffered from Blogging Paranoia.
• I told you people about how much I hoped The One would call me on my cell, despite earlier having told you I was trying to move on, and forget about her.
• I analyzed the adjectives Beautiful, Hot, Sexy and Cute.
• On the 18th I celebrated my 37th Birthday... (sorry I meant my 23rd)
• I also spoke of people with bad odor and entertained you with one of my most embarrassing moments in life.
• As we neared the end of the month, I was suffering from insomnia. And that was taking it's toll on me.
• I was relaxing in the sauna after a tough work-out session at the gym.
• I was tagged for the very first time in my young blogging career by Odd Facts and followed up by writing my first ever meme.
• Then I got sick.

Now that NaBloPoMo is NoMo, I can pick and choose which days to post. And that will be a great feeling. Don't worry though... you'll hear plenty from this Rambling Madman over the coming months, I'm sure.

I also took the opportunity, now that I'm sick, to change some things in the sidebar.

I made a few click links you can pick and choose from, should you wish to backtrack my blogging career. This way you can choose specific "Features" of my blog, such as Funday Sunday or the WWC. You can read up on some posts that I (myself) find worthy reads. Or, you can read up on specific Ramblings, if for example you want to read all my posts that mention Beautiful Girls, or catch up on the full story of The One.

30 Posts for November... How many for December?

Isn't That Just Typical?

Well, that's just friggin' great. Typical. I love it!!!

Did you read irony into that opening? You should. I am furious! Depressed and just want to kick some serious viral ass.

I know I felt very tired after yesterday's 12 hour day, but didn't think much of it last night. I blamed my fatigue solely on the hard day's work.

I woke up this morning. My throat hurt. I couldn't swallow... there was a big-ass lump lodged somewhere deep down there. I felt my eyelids clinging together as I tried to pry them open, and my entire body was aching.

I thought to myself. I should call in sick today. Then I scrapped that thought. Two reasons.

1. There was only one more day of work left to do before I would enjoy a good 4 days off. There's just no way in hell I am going to spend those wonderful days in bed with a thermometer in my mouth.

2. I was going to the gym after work today - and for the first time in over two weeks I would see The One. She's been friendly towards me ever since that day I told her off about her bitchy attitude. So, I was really looking forward to meeting her.

So... I went to work. As the day progressed, things kept getting worse. I took up a pill-eating habit over the course of the day just to keep myself afloat... just so that I could at least appear to be working most of the time.

But... pretending to work would prove impossible today. Actual work was required, and there was no escaping that. One hundred mattresses were delivered to us today, and there was only I who could take care of that little business. That meant a good 2 hours outside, in the rain and the cold, carrying heavy mattresses back and forth. I had an invasion of customers to deal with at the same time, two of whom had complaints they felt the need to shout about to me.

At the end of the day I knew one thing for sure. There was no way I was going to the gym to meet up with The One. I gave her a call on her cell to tell her I was getting sick and wouldn't make it out of there alive should I attempt to go tonight.

"You do as you wish", she says. "If you don't go, I'm not going either"

I tell her I'll think about it, and ask her where she is now. She commutes, riding a bus. She now works in another town, as I've explained before. She tells me she's almost at the bus-station.

"I'll pick you up at the station then. We'll decide then whether to go or not. If not, I can always give you a ride home."

I did this only because I really wanted to see her. I wasn't going to the gym for sure, and she really doesn't need a ride home from the bus station, as it's only a 10 minute walk for her.

Well, I picked her up. Drove her home, and we sat in my car talking for 20 minutes or so. I was hoping she'd invite me up to her place... but, really I understand why she didn't because I am obviously coming down with something less than pleasant.

So... that was my day. Now I need to find a super-duper remedy to cure my ill, because no fucking way am I going to be sick when I have four days off from work!

No - Friggin' - Way!

I've Been Tagged!

For the first time in my young blogging career, I've had someone sneak up on me and hang one of those tags on my ear. That means I am obliged to write what is known in Blogville as a "meme".

Don't ask me what that word means... because I have no idea. This is what I found using the online dictionary:

meme (meem) A cultural item that is transmitted by repetition in a manner analogous to the biological transmission of genes.

meme (mēm) A unit of cultural information, such as a cultural practice or idea, that is transmitted verbally or by repeated action from one mind to another.

The honorable person who tagged me to do this meme (and help me out in my NaBloPoMo-quest), is a blogger who is known for bringing home 95(!) books from the library. And, if ever you visit (which you really should) her blog, that will explain in part where she gets all of her weird, strange, funny and Odd Facts from.

Visit Odd Facts for some fun and strange... facts!

There are rules associated with a meme, I've found as well. And the rules for the one that I've been tagged with are as follows:

• Provide a link to the person who tagged you, and spell out the rules of the meme on your blog.


• Share 7 (seven) random and/or weird facts about yourself. (I believe this is the part that constitutes an actual meme)


• Tag 7 (seven) random bloggers with this meme and post links to their blogs at the end of this post. (Free advertisement, and for some - a pain in the butt... from what I hear)


• Let those who have been tagged know so by leaving a comment on their blog, and telling them where to find information regarding the meme they are now obliged to do.

So, that puts a check-mark in front of the first rule for me. The part where I provide the link to my tagger, and where I write the rules.

Part 2: 7 (seven) Random and/or Weird Facts About Me:

Aaah... where do I begin?

One: I was born at night (but, it wasn't last night).

Two: I smoked my first cigarette when I was 5 years old. Me and a neighbor girl snuck outside and lit up. My sister (who's 14 years older than me) caught us in the act.

"What are you doing?", she says - trying to sound angry.

Me... I'm just a cool, relaxed 5 year old who doesn't know trouble if it slaps me in the face.

"Smokin'..."

Three: I wrote my first sci-fi/horror novel at the age of 10. It was a 34 page story called "Lizard Planet". It was about a guy named Carl, who built himself a spaceship and took a few friends with him to explore the vast universe. They came upon a planet where humans were dominated by intelligent lizards. Carl and his friends helped the humans on Lizard Planet fight a war against the evil lizards. They brought a dog with them, too - it's name was Andalusius. To this day - I have no idea where that name came from... hehe.

Four: I went to my first concert at the age of 13. It was the day after my birthday actually, and the ticket was my present. My mother was with me to witness the first ever unmasked Kiss tour - the "Lick It Up" tour. Helix opened for them, and ever since I was a huge Helix fan.

Gimme an "R" - AAHR!

"O" - OOH!

"C" - SEE!

"K" - 'KAY!

What you got? - ROCK!

And what you gonna do? - ROCK YOU!

Five: At the age of 17 I moved out on my own, to another city. I went to an acting school, and I had every intention of being the next big thing in Hollywood some day. I was going to write my own movies, produce my own movies, direct my own movies and star in my own movies. I had it all figured out by then!

Six: (The only random fact that will bear a more serious tone to it) At the age of 21 I suffered a mental breakdown - the result of a particularly ugly break-up with a girl I meant to spend the rest of my life with. My one and original true love, whom I had been deeply in love with since I was 13, and finally got to call 'my sweetheart' when we were 20.

It signalled the end of my true belief in becoming a Hollywood star, and during it all I tore up the 120 page manuscript for the best damn thing I ever wrote in my life - those were the days before computers were something that Average Joe had access to, so sheets of paper were worth their weight in gold.

Seven: I named my blog "Ramblings of a Madman", after a diary I kept a few years back, which for my own amusement was called "Diary of a Madman". Diary didn't feel like a good name for a blog, unless I intended to post daily. Ramblings was much better, because I figured I'd use this space to rant and ramble on about anything at all that troubles or amuses me.

So!

There are 7 (seven) facts you didn't know about me. And that allows me to check rule #2 off the list.

Part 3: Tagging 7 bloggers with this meme:

I tag thee who are listed below:
Angela at ~angelaboration~
Beautifully Profound at Beautifully Profound
Butterfly Girl at Butterfly Girl
G-Man at Man Overboard!
Newt at Newt's Muse
Karen at Smiling Through It All
Samantha K at Sports, Soaps, And A Wandering Mind

Hope you all don't mind me layin' this burden upon your shoulders ;)

And that takes care of check-mark numero three. In order to cross the last rule off the list and fulfill my obligation to this meme, I will now log onto the above blogs and let them know what I have done to them.

Here I come a-taggin'!

WWC / Warranty Slip

Weekly Words Challenge time again!

The charming and excellent photographer, Tink of Pickled Beef is the one responsible for the fun and excitement that the WWC brings every Tuesday of every week. She chooses the words and we all interpret these words and come up with some amazing photos to share with the community. It's fun! Try it if you haven't already!

The words for this week are ASSORTMENT and PURPLE.

The Madman's contribution to the WWC below:

An ASSORTMENT of yummy candies

**********

An ASSORTMENT of pens and knives I use at work

**********

An ASSORTMENT of birthday flowers, with a shade of PURPLE

**********

My PURPLE Mega-Ball Florida lottery T-Shirt

**********

I had one of those... funny (read imbecile)... customers today. I'd sold her a pair of spring mattresses, and as I rang it up in the register I handed over the receipt and the warranty slip.

"Ok, ma'am. There's a 10 year warranty on those mattresses, so you'll want to hold on to this receipt and the warranty there. Keep them in a safe place, if ever you should need them"

"Oh, good", she says. "So the warranty will cover it if my kids were to spill lemonade on them, right?"

Now, I am not even going to bother giving you a sample of the thoughts that went spinning through my head, but there were plenty of them. Let's just say they all summed up to one thing... basically; Yeah, lady. That's what a warranty is for. Spilling stuff on your mattresses... pour some coffee on it too, while you're at it. Incontinence, I hear, is covered by warranty as well... Oh, and drink yourself senseless, puke all over them and we'll replace them... sure! Idiot!

"No it doesn't ma'am. It says on the warranty slip there what is covered and what's not"

Some people... it never ceases to amaze me how stupid they can be.

We'll be back for some more WWC excitement next week and then we'll be having pictures inspired by the words LANDSCAPE and ORANGE to show off!

A Day Off.... HELL NO!

You know... according to my work schedule, today was a day that I didn't have to get in to work and slave the day away for some hard earned pennies.

Today, I had things planned for a beautiful day off. Mainly these plans consisted of a whole lot of relaxation, some browsing other people's blogs, and then a little more relaxation. I also thought I'd be a good boy and go to the gym two days in a row.

I'm working on my first item on today's agenda. I'm relaxing at around 10AM this morning. I've got my cup of coffee, and I'm watching the press conference with Tom Glavine as he speaks of his joy of re-signing with the Braves. I had as of yet not had time to view it.

Let me just take a quick break and tell you how excited I am about that! With Glavine back in the rotation next year, the Braves could have one of the best pitching staffs in the majors (again) next year. With Smoltz and Hudson already in place for the #1 and #2 spots, and now an ace like Glavine (probably) stepping in as a #3 guy. Add to that the recovering Mike Hampton, who seems to be progressing very well after 2 years on the DL. He's likely to take the #4 spot - so through there we have all stellar pitching. Then there's some stiff competition for that last spot on the rotation with Chuck James, Jo-Jo Reyes, Jeff Bennett and new signing Jair Jurrjens most likely to be considered for that final spot in the rotation. If only we can find a decent center fielder for next season (now that Andruw Jones is no more), I have no doubt in my mind we will seriously battle for the division title again... and quite possibly a return to the World Series as well....

Enough of the baseball talk!

It was 10AM in the morning. I was having my coffee and watching the press conference. My cellphone rings. I notice that it is from work, but stupid as I am, I decide to answer. You know, quite often they will call me to ask about some customer I've talked to, or where I may have hidden something they're looking for... so it's always a good idea to answer when they call.

"Yeah, R.E.H. here", I say as I answer the phone.

"Hi, it's your boss. How are you?". Indeed. It is my boss, and usually when it's her calling - that means trouble of some sort is on the way. Either I have fucked up and I'm about to be scolded for it, or she wants me to come in and do some extra hours.

"I'm ok. Just poured me some freshly brewed coffee"

She decides to cut right to the chase.

"Can you come in to work today?"

I quickly decide to lie.

"No, sorry. I've got things planned all day"

There is silence on the other end. My boss is a nice person, actually. Not the kind who likes to raise her voice or be a bitch about things. Finally, she speaks up again... oh, she's good at sounding all hurt and depressed - that's her way of getting what she wants.

"Oh... are you sure? We've had 3 people call in sick today. After 3 o'clock today it'll only be me and Abbie for the rest of the day".

Abbie is a female co-worker of mine. (I should just go ahead and write down a list of fictional names for all my co-workers, because it becomes hard to replicate conversations when you find the need to use a name in dialogue like this). We should really be at least 5 people on a day to cope with the steady flow of customers and sales... 2 would be absolute horror.

Yes! She played the sympathy card, and nice guy like I am... it is becoming increasingly hard to say no.

"There's no one else?" I try, desperately.

"No. If you can be here by 3 it'll be good. Then you'll have time to do what you need to do before you come in"

"Aw, shit. Alright. I'll make it happen"

She lights up. Yes, I can hear it in her voice.

"Great. See you at three then. You can stay 'til closing right?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sure... I have no other life. You don't want me to stay 'til midnight do you?"

She chuckles a little.

"No. Just until we close is all. See you later"

She hangs up. And there goes a perfect day of relaxation straight to hell. And, let me tell you - things would have been completely out of hand at work if I hadn't decided to show up. All three of us had to work ourselves to the ground in order to keep up with sales today.

I did go to the gym after work, however. I stuck to that part of my plan for the day. I am such a good boy. And now I am totally exhausted. Went to a boxing session today - don't know if you have those at the gym's you guys go to. But, it is inspired from regular boxing training, where you do a lot of hitting, kicking and jumping around. Sweaty and tough as hell! I haven't been to one of these sessions in three months (one of the girls who work at the gym talked me into it today). I had forgotten just how tough that hour really is...

Rest of the week - I got extreme work hours. 7:30AM to 7:30PM on Wednesday - not looking forward to that 12 hour day.

I will end today's blog with a message to the people whom it concerns:

Re-hire the fucking staff you morons decided we didn't need! We can not, will not, should not have to put up with this crap! We need employees!!!

Funday Sunday: "Sauna"

Found this funny Swedish commercial, as I thought what should I post for Funday Sunday today? I have just returned home from the gym, and spent a good 20 minutes in the sauna after my work out. I gotta tell you, I love to swelter in a steaming hot sauna.

I wish I could top this off with some funny sauna moments that I have experienced myself, but actually I have never had an embarrassing or otherwise laughable situation in the sauna.

I suspect at one time I interrupted some weirdo while he was yanking his wiener. That's not funny.

I once suffered from penis envy... a guy in there had a freakin' monster between his legs - I am not interested in looking at another man's genitals. But, this one was just the kind of thing where I had to sneak a peek, in order to determine whether, in fact, that thing was real or not.

Another time... recently... I damn near got 2nd degree burns on my hand as I scooped some water onto the rocks, and the steam rose up while I had my hand a little too close.

I think the one time things could've gotten embarrassing (and funny), though I was spared the humiliation of someone entering at that particular time, would be this:

I carry the key to my locker with me as I go inside. I know that by the time I am ready to exit the sauna, the key is going to be damn hot when I grab it, so I do so with caution and wrap it into the towel. This time, I burnt my fingers, dropped the key and it went down between the wooden boards and all the way to the floor beneath. The only way to retrieve the thing was by kneeling down, putting my ass high up in the air - butt naked - and crawl underneath with half my body. As I was fishing for the key, I was absolutely terrified someone would open the door. What they would have seen would've been me on my hands and knees, my bare naked ass glaring at them, while the rest of me would be hidden underneath the seats.

I was spared that embarrassing moment... and now I've just told you people about it. Duh! Way to go, R.E.H.!

Sorry, I'm Closed... For The Day

CLOSED FOR THE DAY

As was indicated in my post yesterday, fatique is really getting the best of me lately, and today all I feel like doing is lie down in front of the television for a while, and then hit the sack bright and early. Catch up a little on those hours of sleep lost.

I'll be back to entertain you tomorrow, on Funday Sunday.

Sleep Is Overrated

Sleep is Overrated.

This is my favorite leisure sweater. You know, the kind of sweater you pull over your head to wear on cold winter nights at home, when other people are spared the luxury of seeing you dressed improperly, comfortably and (yes!) leisurely.

I am wearing it now... sitting here in front of the computer writing this blog.

It is representative of me, which is why I like it so much. It isn't necessarily the comfiest sweater I have, but it is comfy enough, and it spells out what I would like to be true, but have proven over and over again is (in fact) not true...

SLEEP IS OVERRATED

Yeah right!

I get to bed at around 1AM on workdays. Now, I don't have a job where I need to be at work at 6AM or anything... I usually don't start until 9:30, so I can sleep in the mornings a bit. Sometimes I have to be in at 8AM, so that takes another 1 and a half hours off my nightly Z's. I also like to have plenty of time in the morning to get ready.

First off, I want to spend about 45 minutes half asleep in the bed listening to the radio. That is the only time I ever listen to the radio to keep me somewhat updated on what modern music sounds like, and to be able to at least every once in a while butt in on musical conversations my friends and co-workers indulge in.

After that, I want to take a shower. I simply am not awake until I have had my shower in the morning. Any day I oversleep, and have to skip the shower in order to be on time, the whole day is a complete disaster.

After the shower, of course, I get dressed. This is done quickly. I am not a person who will go through my wardrobe umpteen times to figure out what to wear on any given day. I'll just stick my hand into the closet, grab something and wear whatever follows my arm out of it.

Then, I want some breakfast... on work-days. If I have the day off... screw breakfast - I'm going straight for the coffee pot.

This all sums up to the fact that I need to set the alarm at least one and a half hours before I need to be at work. Just to be safe I like to add another half hour, in case I am really tired in the morning and as a result move more slowly, and lie in bed listening to the radio a little longer than 45 minutes... you know - like an hour fifteen.

Ok... so I start working at 9:30, I need to set the alarm 2 hours before that... that's 7:30, and I get to bed at 1AM (at best)... that's six and a half hours worth of sleep.

Uh, Uh! No it's not... we forgot one important variable in the equation.

It always takes me 1-2 hours to fall asleep after my head hits the pillow. This is my day-dreaming time (night-dreaming?). This is when I concoct amazing fantasies and live in a perfect world - this is where I ponder the events of the day - this is where I try to figure out how to make The One fall in love with me - this is where I become frustrated at my inability to sleep - and this is where I lie thinking I should see a doctor about my insomnia because my life is getting screwed up because of a lack of shut-eye.

So, what did we have? Yes, six and a half hours worth of sleep - take that minus, on average, 1 and a half hours (the time I lie and ponder, fantasize and curse myself). We are now down to 5 hours of sleep at night. 3 and a half hours on those days when I start working at 8AM.

Sleep is overrated, huh?

No, I cannot fully function on this kind of sleep. Used to be I would take one or two nights a week and get to bed at like 8PM and catch up a little. That doesn't work any more, as I've found every time I attempt that little stunt, my biological clock wakes me up at around 1AM and I'm unable to sleep for the next 3 to 4 hours. Then I end up falling asleep at around 5AM and my alarm goes off at 7:30, and I will feel like I've only slept those 2 and a half hours.

I still love that sweater though!

Pepsi Bottle / Brief Update

Taken from Metro.co.uk:

"It doesn't take a doctor to work out the results of this X-ray.

And when a glass bottle has been shoved up your bottom, you don't need an expert to tell you anyway.

The X-ray was taken of a 60-year-old man who checked himself into Nishtar Hospital in Multan, Pakistan.

He sought treatment because he claimed - are you ready for this? - thieves had inserted a Pepsi bottle into his anus before stealing two of his buffalo.

He said the robbers were armed and forced the bottle up his bum, according to Dr Abdul Manan, a surgeon at the hospital."

Now... I've always feared being robbed some day - but this really turns that fear into outright phobia!

And, for what possible reason did the robbers see it fit to insert a Pepsi Bottle into the poor man's anus anyway?

"Gimme your buffaloes!"

"No!"

"I said, gimme your buffaloes or I'll shove this bottle up your ass!"

"No!"

"Boys! Hold him down!"

"Nooooo-AAAAH!"

I wonder what the conversation at the hospital sounded like, too.

"Excuse me? Doctor? I need some help"

"Yes. What seems to be the problem, sir?"

"I have a Pepsi Bottle in my stomach"

"How did it get there?"

"Some thugs inserted it through my anus"

"Ok, sir. I have this other doctor you should talk to. He specializes in these kinds of things. He's a very good therapist"

"No, doctor. I'm serious. I have a Pepsi Bottle in my stomach - get an X-Ray and see for yourself"

"Oki Dokey. I'll humor you... Nurse!"

10 minutes later as the x-ray is taken.

"What the fuck? Hey, guys! There really is a bottle in this man's stomach! You gotta come see this shit!"

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

Update on the story of The One:

For those who are waiting to hear how that is going, here's a summary of the latest events. You know, since that day we said we'd talk things through and she bailed out of it.

I had decided to start working on letting her go... moving on. One of the reasons I stopped posting about her is because of that decision. If I am to move on, I can't think of her too much, and writing about her forces me to think of her.

I still haven't seen her, but she texted me on Tuesday, wondering if I was working Thursday and Friday. I worked today, but Friday is a day off. I thought there was something she'd want me to do at work... but, that's not what she was after.

She wanted to go to the gym.

She hasn't been there for quite a while, and I've learnt to go there alone and still find it somewhat fun to be there. She got in touch with me today again, wondering if I intended to go tonight, but I told her I was too tired, and that we could go tomorrow morning instead. So, that is now the plan.

I actually look forward to seeing her again - I can't really remember when I've gone this long without seeing her... partly, of course, that is because we used to work together, so I'd see her at work almost every day.

She doesn't mention the "talk" we were supposed to have. But, I will let that go for now, as she does seem willing to try and behave better towards me as it is right now. I don't want to make things more difficult than they have to be.

As for the other thing. That thing I was suspecting and not writing about. I believe I was wrong about that after all... so I'm kind of happy I didn't bring that up in my blogging.

And also:

I have updated my blogroll with a few more blogs that I've frequented lately. If you haven't seen them - check them out!

Airplane Incident

Did you ever make a damn fool out of yourself?

Oh, I know we've all made ourselves look stupid every once in a while, but did you ever do it extravagantly and simply have no place to hide from it for the next 8 hours or so? Make a complete jackass out of yourself and have to remain seated right next to the stranger you so delicately introduced yourself to early on during an eight hour flight?

Well, I did.

Let me tell you about it... just to entertain. Please don't think less of me after you have read this... I really am a good person - and I did not intend to do the things I ended up doing - my mind simply couldn't cope with the situation.

I got on the plane. I was only 17 at the time, and I was going on an eight hour flight all by myself to visit my father. It was, of course, very exiting for me to be making this long trip all on my own. I had a window seat, just like I had wanted, so I could look out at the clouds, and the terrain of our world when flying low enough to witness this beautiful sight. I had flown before, so I knew what it was all about - but, this was the first time I was on my own.

And - Bingo! A beautiful girl who's also alone takes her seat next to me. She's of course older than me - maybe in her mid to late 20's, but I'm a 17 year old horny young boy, and I am looking forward to having her sitting next to me.

Now... let's explain one thing to you. I was very shy around women back then. Talking to them would certainly require a lot of courage, and it took time building that courage up inside. Especially when they were as good looking as this one was.

We take off, and I have not yet said a word to her... possibly did say a quick "Hi" as she took her seat, but that would've been all. I am enjoying my window seat, however, looking out at all the sights early on in the flight, before we are engulfed in the whiteness of the clouds and there really isn't much to see anymore.

Then the stewardess shows up with her little cart, asking if we'd like some hot coffee or tea. You all know I'm addicted to coffee right?

"I'll have some coffee, please"

The girl next to me orders coffee as well. Good sign, I'm thinking. She likes coffee too, that's a decent ice breaker right there.

I remain silent, continuously looking for the balls (no not those balls) to speak to her. And then, as the stewardess places the girl's plastic cup on her pull-out tray and pours her some steaming hot coffee, it is almost time for me to introduce myself to her...

The stewardess hands me an empty plastic cup as well, and I'm holding it out for her to fill it up. She does, and everything goes well... until I pull my arm back to set my cup down on my own tray.

That is when things went wrong. Oh, you've guessed it already, I suppose. I knocked her red hot cup of coffee over with my elbow, and all over her legs and crotch. This was some really hot coffee I'll tell you. I lose control of the muscles in my hand, and my own cup drops. It hits the side of her tray and that too splashes all over her.

She screams. It must hurt like hell!

My eyeballs widen in terror... what have I done???!!!

And... then I try to make things better... or do I try to make them go away? Either way... I shouldn't have done anything...

My hands shoot out from my body. I am not aware of this. Then they dive in between her thighs and start to brush rapidly at her jeans trying to make the hot coffee go away. In a state of panic I try to rub the coffee off of her, my mouth incoherently and repeatedly saying: "Oh, I'm so sorry. Oh, sorry. Didn't mean..."

And, then it hits me. Yes. Finally I come to realize what it is that I am doing to this good looking stranger of a girl. This girl who is in tremendous pain and shock after having two full cups of coffee spilled into her lap...

I have my hands in her crotch, and I'm rubbing at it like crazy...

I retract my hands with force, banging my elbow into my own pull-out tray hurting myself in the process.

"Oh, my God! I'm so sorry... Oh... Sorry!".

I quickly turned my head and looked outside at the beautiful whiteness. I wanted so badly to be somewhere else... in a void somewhere where no one could see me. My face was probably the same color as my blood.

The stewardess was helping the poor girl, giving her napkins and what not allowing the girl to clean herself up (as would have been a much better option indeed). Her pain had subsided I guess, as coffee quickly cools off when spread out in your lap I suppose, but I'm sure it still hurt badly. Second degree burns maybe?

Well, heck! We only had about 7 and a half hours to go before we landed right? I figured I'd just sit there staring out the window and ignore her the whole time.

After about two hours, I had worked up the courage to say I'm sorry... you know... in a respectable way. This whole time she had ignored me as well - listening to the radio with those earphones you get. She'd taken them off, having just returned from the toilet when I decided to speak up.

"I'm sorry about the coffee. Really I am"

She looked at me... still angry it seemed.

"That really hurt you know"

"Yeah, I'm sorry, you know. I'm sorry about... you know", and I motion with my hands as I cannot find a way to express my error of groping at her crotch.

"I don't want to talk about it, ok", she says and plugs her ears, going back to listening to music.

I have never before (and hopefully will never again) felt like such a jackass, and as I said - I had no place to hide. I had to sit there, right next to her... hoping my leg wouldn't brush up against hers, because she might read something into it - and you all know how spacey airplane seats are, right?

I turn to her again - today. Now that we both may be able to look at that incident differently.

Airplane Girl? You here?

I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am for spilling our coffees in your lap. I didn't mean anything by rubbing the hot, wet area between your legs. I just wasn't thinking clearly, ok? So now that you know I'm not some pervert. Now that you know I am a decent human being... what do you say? Would you like to grab a cup of coffee with me some time?

WWC / Double You See

It is time for some fun and games as the double you, double you, see is due for this week. And, as I think of it... why is it that it is double you, when really it should be a double vee?

Anyway... as you all (should) know, the WWC is brought to you by the astoundingly beautiful, the smokin' hot, the alluringly sexy and immensely cute - the never plain, Tink of Pickled Beef! And this weeks words are INANIMATE and YELLOW.

So, with no further delay, I present to you my pictures of the week. Hope you enjoy, and now I'm off to have a peek at what the rest of you people may have come up with to represent the words.

Here goes:

This INANIMATE seal is actually a bottle opener

**********

Since these plants are dead, do they qualify as INANIMATE?
(as in "not alive")

**********

YELLOW street lights along the highway

**********

A YELLOW McDonald's sign at night time

**********

Well, I hope you did enjoy... ;-)

If you want to play next week... the words for next tuesday are ASSORTMENT and PURPLE... Hmmm... what to shoot, what to shoot?

What should one say?

I was doing the laundry today, again... yeah, I do that once a fortnight - on Mondays. And, something happened today that isn't so easy to talk about... at least, not with the person it concerns. It got me thinking though, as I've encountered this a couple of times in recently...

It is nearing the end of my laundry, everything is washed, and I am mostly just drying clothes and folding them up nicely. Since we have a basement laundry room where I live, I hear someone slowly shuffling their feet along the corridor leading up to where I am. Had I not known better, I would probably have been scared shitless, thinking an actual zombie was headed my way - that is what the footsteps sounded like.

Of course, I knew exactly who those feet belonged to - long before I had to see who it was. See... I have this neighbor - he's an 80+ year old dude, and he walks in slow motion. Frankly - the guy is rather fit for his age, but he does have this kind of bent over walk, in which his feet never seem to actually become airborne - they are just slowly dragged along the floor as he makes his way forward. I imagine it must've taken him about 15 minutes to get from his apartment down to the laundry room.

I step outside, and there he is, finally having stopped by the board. We use sort of a button to book time in the laundry room, and he's browsing the board looking for available slots.

"Hey, there Old Buddy". I actually used his real name - but "Old Buddy" is what I'll call him here.

"Hello...", he continues to look at the board. "I haven't been down here for a very long time"

"No?", I say.

"I just wash my underwear in the bathroom sink".

This is when I start to really notice that the guy smells... actually he reeks. I don't know - did he lose control of his bladder... like three days ago... and hadn't noticed yet?

Now, I don't want to bad mouth the old guy or anything. He's a very nice guy, and I've spoken to him several times running into him in the stairway. This is a new smell that I haven't noticed about him before. And... it is unbearable. You know... the kind of smell that reaches into your nose and turn your nosehairs into little prickly needles.

Now, I can't just tell the old fella he reeks, can I? So, what can you do? Well... I did what I think most people would do... shut up about it, and try to stay as far away from him as possible.

He finally decides on a day to do his laundry and parks his laundry button in the correct slot - after a little guidance by me.

And... then he walks into the laundry room itself. Pulls out a chair, and sits down.

"I'll sit down here with you for a while. You don't mind, do you?"

Aaaw, Jesus Christ. Yes I mind! You stink!

"No, that's ok", I say instead.

"I don't have anybody to talk to very often, you know".

I feel genuinely sorry for the guy. He starts telling me of how three wives of his passed away. First one had a heart attack, second one had cancer, third one died of "some other disease"... don't know what that may be. I've heard the story a few times before. It seems to be his ice-breaker. He does recognize me as his neighbor, but he never remembers my name and obviously he doesn't remember having told this story a few times either. He does remember at all times that I sell furniture for a living. And that is what he will talk about after having told me of his deceased wives. And, of all the other women he has courted on the dance floor.

After about 20 minutes or so, the old man finally decides it is time to head back upstairs to his apartment... and it is yet another 15 minutes before that stench is gone. Can you believe that? How that horrid smell would just linger for fifteen minutes?

Now... like I've hinted at. I can understand an old man like him not smelling all peachy at all times. It is a sad thing actually, and I wouldn't want to tell him anything about it. But, the whole experience today got me thinking about a conversation we had at work last week.

We have this temporary worker. She comes in every Tuesday and does some little things, like vacuuming and restocking the shelves. This is a rather young girl, I think about 23 or there about. She walks around in a cloud of sweaty stink at all times.

This is last Tuesday:

"Is she coming in today?", one of my co-workers asks our boss.

"Who?"

"The Tuesday girl", he explains.

"Yes, she is"

He moves uncomfortably in his chair. He's got something on his mind, and he wishes to get it off his chest.

"Uhm... I... I don't know... Should I tell her?"

"What?", I break in on the conversation.

"Didn't you notice? She stinks of sweat"

"Yeah, I did notice"

"I mean. I can't just walk up to her and tell her that she stinks, right?"

"No, that wouldn't be very nice"

"No... I know. But, someone should really say something. Maybe she doesn't know, you know?"

...and the conversation continued like that for another few sentences. In the end, we all agreed to keep our mouths shut about it.

But... really. What is the proper thing to do in these situations? Because, yes, they should really know so they can do something about it, right?

And... it worries me, you know. Because people don't say these things, that makes me worried. What if I smell? Would anyone have the guts to tell me that I stink if I did (do?)... because, I'd sure like to know so I could get the hell home and take a long shower, scrub myself clean and bathe myself in deodorant. Use a gallon of mouthwash or whatever is needed to come back smelling fresh like the summer breeze.

And... speaking of which. Tomorrow is Tuesday - so Tuesday Girl is going to be there again tomorrow... I will have to take a whiff to see if she decided to shower before work this week.

Funday Sunday: "Happy Birthday"

*Singing at the top of my lungs*

Happy Birthday to Me...

Happy Birthday to Me...

Happy Birthday dear R.E.H...

Happy Birthday to Me...

I made it! Another year and I'm still alive and kicking :)

So, for a special "Funday Sunday", I present to you a compilation of funny birthday moments I found on YouTube. I particulary enjoyed the fainting old lady, and the kid who tipped the table over and got the birthday cake in his face.

My entire family are coming over today, so I've got a lot of prepping to do. Making food, tidying up (which is very much needed), setting the tables and getting myself ready so I do not look like I just crawled out of my future grave to greet them.

Have a good day! And, I'll see you all tomorrow.

Zip, Zilch, Nada

Looking for a new pet for your child? I think I may have come across one that would certainly make all the other kids in school very envious indeed.

A new watchdog? Screw that... get a watch-snake. Any burglar breakin' and entering into your home greeted by that beast would quickly exit the premises.

Need a hug? With this dear pet you could get the hug of a lifetime. This snake will squeeze you so tight you'll never need another hug in your life... because... your life will be over.

Seriously though. Today I am having an off day. I've been sitting here now in front of the computer trying to come up with something to write today, but my mind's gone completely blank. Not a thing has come up worth writing about. I was aimlessly googling for pictures, and once this one showed up I figured I'll use it and start writing whatever comes out of my fingers, onto my keyboard and finally onto the screen for publication in my blog.

It's the NaBloPoMo thing that forces me to make this completely useless post today. I would have skipped the whole thing today, had I not had an obligation to post something every day.

Oh, well. Enough of the whining.

I went shopping at the grocery store today with my mother. I'm having my family over tomorrow to celebrate my birthday, so we needed to pick up a lot of supplies. Why is it that the one who people want to celebrate end up having to pay for the festivities. If they want to show me their appreciation and love for me... couldn't they pay for the damn food and drinks themselves? I'm getting broke here!

Well... I'm the one who invited them in the first place. I'm the one seeking that love and affection, so maybe it serves me right I have to pay for it...

I don't really want to celebrate my birthday any more. I think I lost interest in that once I turned 30, because it's all downhill after that. Each and every year it just means I am one step closer to my grave... and how is that something to celebrate?

Hmmm.... So that's why they all show up? They are celebrating that.

Well... tomorrow will be a special Funday Sunday. See you then.

Beautiful. Hot. Sexy. Cute.

"Do you think I am beautiful?"

She'd been standing there for a while. I was just sitting at the kitchen table, jotting a few ideas down for a movie script, while she was leaning her back against the wall by the door looking at me.

We had that kind of relationship, where we could feel each others presence and enjoy each others company without really having to talk to one another. Just being in the same room made us feel comfortable.

"Of course you are, honey"

She walks up to me. Her face is sincere and she's looking deep into my eyes as she sits down in front of me.

"Don't you think that I'm hot?"

"Oh, you're hot alright. Really hot".

"Do you think I'm sexy?"

"Yes".

"I'm not just cute, then?"

"Honey. I think you're beautiful. I think you're hot, sexy and cute. You are my girlfriend and I love you"

She sighs... looks away from me. She looks sad all of a sudden.

"You're just saying that because that's what you think I want to hear. I can't be all of those things at the same time".

This conversation has stuck in my head for many years. She was my first true love. We lived together, and back then I was so sure I would spend the rest of my life with this girl - that's how much I was in love with her.

I've been thinking about it... a lot. What do these words mean to a woman? What do they mean to me? Which adjective to use when you speak to a woman, so as not to offend her?

I know I don't really care to be called Cute. Cute is not a word that speaks to my manliness. Cute will not make me feel wanted by the girl who calls me that. Cute is almost demeaning to me... but, to a woman it should be looked at in high regard. At least coming from me... nothing I love more than a woman with a cute smile - that'll knock me out in a second.

Hot, or Sexy. Yes... that's what I like to hear.

Beautiful... yes... from someone I am in love with.

But don't they really all come down to one and the same? That you enjoy looking at them? Let us analyze each word here... from my point of view. I will only be talking about visuals here... never mind the girls personality attributes in conjunction with these words for now - I am looking at this from a shallow point of view today.

BEAUTIFUL - When I can look at a woman for long, long periods of time and enjoy every single second of doing it - then she is beautiful. When I can just study the lines of her face, the shape of her jaw and cheekbones, the way her hair falls down on her shoulders, how her eyes sparkle when she looks back at me, and there is nothing about her that makes me think... Hey, that wart on her nose there's got to go... should I suggest she go see a surgeon who could remove it for her? She should really go to the dentist more often... get a shine on those teeth. Yeah... that would be my definition of Beautiful.





HOT - A woman who is hot, is a knock-out. She's the kind of girl that when I first lay eyes on her, I think; Holy mother of all! Check this one out, fellas! I think I'm in luuuve! She's the kind of girl you want to show off to all of your friends just to make them envious of you for having such a dreamy girl by your side. She's the kind of girl that makes it hard for you to think beyond the surface and see who she is on the inside... because... who the fuck cares when you can drool all over what you see?








SEXY - A chick who is sexy will have full succulent lips, eyes that can burn into your very soul when she looks at you. She will, of course, have a perfect body... a slim waist, perfect tits and an ass you just cannot keep your hands off. She will make me think: Sweet lord Jesus, do I want to take those clothes off of you right now. I want to kiss every inch of you, feel every part of your naked body with the tips of my fingers, and then I want to make you moan and scream my name as you cum. Because you, girl, turn me the hell on! That is what a sexy girl will do to me.






CUTE - The most important attribute for a girl to be cute is their smile. If they have a contagious smile, that makes me want to smile back at them, and that makes me feel all happy inside, then they are immediately cute. Often a rather petite face will do the trick as well. A small nose, small mouth, rounded cheeks and eyes that are full of life. Cute girls make me go: Gosh, girl. Don't I just want to hug you right now. I want to hold you close to me and hold you tight. I want to run my fingers alongside your face and trace the lines of your smile. You just make me feel so wonderful when I look at you. That is how I look at a cute girl.




So, girls... don't diss the cuteness. It is a compliment to you ladies. You are supposed to be cute - not us guys, we don't want to be cute... better you call me rough. A little rough on the edges - yes, that makes me feel better.

And... if cute was such a bad thing to be... how come of the girls above who represent my views of each and every word, it is Kate Hudson of "Cute" who wins my heart.

Kate? If you're here... if you're reading this. I have a question for you.

"Will you marry me?"

Cell Phone Blues...

I keep hoping for a message on my cell. I can't help it, but I still keep hoping for that to happen.

We kind of got into a fight the other day. It wasn't something I wanted to happen, but there comes a time when a guy simply cannot keep his mouth shut any longer. And that time was the other day.

There is this other thing I've been suspecting... you know - the thing I haven't told you about yet. The thing I cannot yet write about, because I am not so sure about it... whether it is or is not - if I'm just being paranoid or adding 1 plus 1 and coming up with 3. I felt though, the other day, as if she was trying to get me to talk about that thing.

I had a particularly bad day at work. I hate my job so much these days it really takes all my willpower just to get out of bed and go to work in the morning. Every single day I'm feeling like I should call in sick, or maybe just walk out the door and deal with the financial implications of that later. When The One came in to work that day I tried to small talk with her. My suspicions about her, and my general irritation of being at work was apparent, and maybe I wasn't much fun or pleasant to speak with.

I was having lunch, and she was sitting in the break-room when I came in there.

"Tell me what's on your mind", she says to me. "What's bothering you?"

"You know. The usual. I hate this job", I tell her. Of course, I leave out the part that something about her is bothering me as well.

"Get it all out. Say what you feel and get it over with".

This is when I start to get the feeling she's not interested in hearing about how much I hate my job... but rather she is aiming to get me to talk about that other thing. If what I think I know is a fact - she does know that I know. If what I think is not a fact - she does know that I think it may be so. Get it?

"Well... not much to say. I hate the hours, the organization, the fucking place is a mess. I just hate being here is all", I say.

She gets up from her chair.

"No use talking to you", she says, sounding surprisingly angry. She walks out of the break room, into the office. There are no doors between us, just a small kitchen area, so I can still see her as she sits down in front of the computer.

"Why don't you sit here? Keep me company?"

"You're not talking. Why should I sit there?"

I am getting angry with her. I keep my mouth shut, and eat my lunch in silence all alone. After I have finished, I felt like I should go talk to her. See if there is anything she wants to tell me.

I walk out into the office and sit down next to her. She's aimlessly browsing the computer - it doesn't take much brain capacity to see that she's not looking at anything in particular, and that she's consumed by it only to ignore me. I try to talk to her, asking how her day has been and other completely useless things like that. Just to break the ice. She would mumble something in response sometimes, but mostly not say anything.

Now, I am angry. I get up from my chair.

"Not much use coming out here for company. Who's the one not talking now?"

"I have nothing to say to you", she says.

I start to walk out of the office.

"You don't want to talk about what's bothering you", she's complaining.

This is when I decide for myself that she is indeed fishing for me to talk about that thing. And, I'm beginning to feel that I have really had enough of this bullshit. If that thing is to be brought up... it is her damn responsibility to do so.

"Got something you want to tell me?", I ask her.

She ignores me. This whole time her face has not left the screen of the computer. She's being the ace bitch she knows too damn well how to be. I turn to walk away, but something stops me. It is anger that stops me... this is it! Now, I've had enough, and it is time to tell her so... that enough is enough.

"What the hell is your god damn problem anyway?". I say it loud and clear to her.

Now she turns around to look at me. She manages to look surprised and angry at the same time.

"What do you mean by that?"

"This! Your fucking attitude against me. I've been keeping my mouth shut about it for way too long now. I'm sick and tired of you treating me like shit".

"What do I do that's so wrong?"

Excuse me? You don't know? Yes, you do! You're just not woman enough to face it are you? That's what I wanted to say right then.

"Just about everything lately. You don't answer my calls. You ignore me when I text to you. You have an attitude against me when we meet."

"Was I not nice to you at the company party last week?"

Oh... this girl is not so stupid after all, you know. Maybe that is why she was so friendly that weekend... so she could use it as an argument should we get into a fight about her attitude.

"Apart from being a bitch about me getting lost when we got there you were a doll all weekend. I was surprised at how friendly you were. Is that the way things should be? That I should be surprised that you are treating me nice?"

Got her!

She continued to defend her right to be a bitch towards me. Explaining once again what she's told me before... that she doesn't want me to think she's in love with me. Come on, girl! I just need to know that she's my friend right now... fuck the love business for a while, ok?

And then, someone walks into the office. We both become very quiet. The person who entered started talking to The One, and I just stood there cursing this person in my thoughts. I said The One's name after a while... I wasn't finished - but this talk is one we should have when others are not listening.

"You gonna be here a while?", I say. I am surprised at how at ease I sounded asking her that.

"I don't know. Maybe 5 or 10 minutes", she says.

"Come see me before you leave, ok?", and then I walked out of the office.

I didn't expect her to look me up before she left the building. I thought this was really it - the end of our friendship as well. She did though, and no one else was near.

"I don't want to argue with you, you know. But you really can't expect me to tolerate the way you've been treating me lately. And if you say you don't think you've treated me badly, you're lying".

"Well, I... You know...", she doesn't quite know what to say.

"It has to end. Right now". And then I said the thing I've wanted to say to her for so long lately. "I only ask one thing of you. All I want is for the old you to return. The One I once got to know. The friendly, sweet and funny girl you used to be. That's really all that I want from you".

"I know", she says.

"So, can you do that for me? Can you try?"

"But, you know why I've been acting like that, and..."- I stop her right there.

"That's what I'm talking about. There you go again, ignoring my question".

She just walks out on me. Head down, not looking back at me.

I spent the rest of the day thinking what I could do to salvage things. I didn't want things to end like that between us. After work, I did something maybe I shouldn't have done. I gave her a call - expecting of course she would not answer. She did though. I made an effort not to sound angry, not to sound hurt - but simply to sound... reasonable.

"You know what I want? I want you and me to get together and talk things through. We'll both say exactly what's on our minds and get it out of our systems. There are things I haven't told you, that maybe I should. And I am sure there are things you haven't told me. We talk things over, and then we'll take it from there. I'm pretty sure you don't like the way things are between us any more than I do".

"Maybe... yes".

"Ok... so, whenever you want to. Just let me know. That is... if you want to".

"Maybe Monday. I think I have the day off from work", she says - this is Saturday. "I'll call you Sunday night, ok?"

I am actually relieved. This is something I feel we would both benefit from - either way it goes. If it goes badly - we could both agree to not be friends anymore (and I wouldn't have to keep trying so damn hard), and if it goes well, we could leave all the crap behind us and start to enjoy each others company once again.

After that call, I thought maybe I had tapped into a good thing. She texted me a couple of times during that evening... just to stay in touch - nothing important, nothing she needed me to do, and she even said thank you for something I had forgotten I'd done for her... a long time ago.

I felt good Saturday night. I felt as if we were finally on our way to resolve the issues between us.

Didn't hear from her Sunday. At around 10PM I got tired of waiting, and texted to her.

'DID YOU HAVE THE DAY OFF TOMORROW?'

The response I got came a couple of hours later. Just around midnight.

'YES... I HAVE SOME THINGS PLANNED FOR MY ONLY DAY OFF THIS WEEK...'

I texted this back to her:

'SO, WE WON'T GET TOGETHER TOMORROW?'

I haven't heard from her since.

Today, I sent her another message. The store she's been transferred to had their grand opening today - it's a new store. Opening day's are always fun and hectic. I am genuinely interested in how things went over there today. I have no one else to get that information from. I simply asked her how things went with the opening. That is now more than 3 hours ago... and I haven't even got a response to that.

I know. I have to move on now... but, I still want that talk. Right now... all I want is to have that good friend she once was back.

Blogging Paranoia

They're out there... the Vicinity People. Lurking around, watching me, snickering and pointing their accusing fingers at me.

They're laughing at me, making fun of me. I am what they talk about during their coffee-breaks at work... when I'm not around. If I enter the room the silence tells the story. I look at them, into their eyes, reading their minds.

Come on, you conniving little dweebs, you. Confess! You know... you talk about it behind my back, don't you? Yes, you do. You know everything, and you're having a laugh at my expense...

The Vicinity People. They are the people I work with, they are who I believe to be my friends, they are my family, my neighbors, the people in the bars I frequent, the cashier at the grocery store, the hunks and the bend-over babes at the gym. They all know! That random dude I passed walking down the street - I saw that look you gave me! You too! You know!

I didn't take proper precautions. I didn't hide well enough. There's no place to hide now. I'm out there, bare naked in the streets, my inner emotions and feelings dangling in plain view for all to see. I wasn't thinking clearly... I must be insane!

I've locked my door, shut the blinds on my windows, dimmed the lights and I've been hiding in my chair by the gloom of my monitor. The words comfort me, soothe me. I need to get it all out of my system, because The Vicinity People wouldn't listen. They wouldn't care. But, I didn't take proper precautions... did I?

I put my picture out there. The Vicinity People will recognize me. They'll be browsing the cyber-world, stalking it the way people do, and they'll stumble across a picture of me. They will think: Hey... Isn't that? Hell yeah, it is. And they will read my blog, dissect it, analyze every single word I've put out there. If ever they doubted it was me on that picture they will know it is me from the stories they read. And they will know... far more than I ever wanted them to know.

I can't write about everything... I must stop. I must hide. I shall write nothing about me - I must not write anything personal ever again... because they will know. The Vicinity People - they will know. And they will tell each other, and they will talk about me, behind my back. They will snicker and I see them already, pointing their fingers at me when they don't think I notice. They'll be whispering into each other's ears, gossiping about what I wrote the other day...

"Did you hear? He was making out with some chick the other night. He wrote about it."

"Yeah, I know. And, I know who it was too. He didn't say her name, but I know who it was just the same. You'll never believe who it was!"

"Oh, tell me. Tell me, please. I need to know."

And now one of Them. One of the Vicinity People has become the victim of my sins too. One of them has now become one of the Outcast People. They will talk about the people I care about, the people I was supposed to protect while writing about them on the internet. I don't name them by their rightful names, I don't post their picture - I never will. But, the Vicinity People will read between the lines. They will understand by the context of my blogs who I'm talking about. And they will know things about them too, things the Outcast People don't want anyone to know. It was our secret, not a thing the world should know about. But I told... fucking tattletale me, I told... Forgive me, friend, for I have failed you.

If The One reads these pages... she'll know. No doubt. She'll know it is her I'm writing about. And, she'll hate me for it. She would hide in a dark alley, waiting for me to walk by. She'll have gathered all of the Vicinity People... and they'll jump out when I walk by. They will beat me to the ground and continue to kick me in the head, and then drag my lifeless body and throw me in a dumpster. They'll put a sign around my neck: "Traitor!" I have failed them too. They never asked to have their stories told to the world. It was me... my own selfish me. I entered the virtual world and told you my story, because I wanted to be loved, because I wanted confirmation that I was right all the time. They were just victims for being part of my Vicinity World. So, welcome to my demise... it was the blogging that killed me. The Vicinity People will find me and they will put an end to my misery. The epitaph on my gravestone will read:

HERE LIES R.E.H.
LOVED BY THE VIRTUAL PEOPLE
MURDERED BY THE VICINITY PEOPLE

I need you. The Virtual People. You may not be real, you may not think that I am real, but I need you. I need you to make me laugh with your funny comments. I need you to comfort me with your encouraging words, I need your hugs, your kisses. Make love to me... Hell! Strip your clothes off! Let me cyber-fuck your brains out!... Oh, I'm sorry. That was uncalled for.

I need this. My virtual world. My hiding place. The place where I can pour my heart out to the Virtual People, so you can make me feel good again... make me feel whole. I need this rock to crawl under, to escape from the Vicinity World and the Vicinity People and all the evil that comes knocking on my door. I have the fucking right to speak my mind... this is a free world! We have freedom of speech! I shall not succumb to your threats, evil ones! I shall prevail! God bless America!!!

Psst...

Hey!

I have one thing to tell you. One GOD.DAMNED.THING!

To you! The Vicinity People. That's right. This is for you:

FUCK YOU! FUCK OFF! PISS YOURSELVES! I will write whatever I damn well please... this is my blog, this is my Virtual World and these are my Virtual People! So stay away, Vicinity People. Stay away from this world... I love you, you know that. I love you with all of my heart, but this is a dangerous place for you to be... so stay away. Please. This is only for me... As long as we are clear on that...

I pray... I pray that the Vicinity People are not here. That they are not lurking around, reading my blog in secrecy... they would know too much, they would snicker, they would point their accusing fingers at me behind my back and they would talk about me. They would laugh at me... mock me, make fun of me... shun me when I wish to speak to them... alienate me, disown me and loathe my very presence in the room. I HATE YOU ALL!

I need you. The Vicinity People. I need you out there in the Vicinity World, where I can look into your eyes, where I can smell you, hear you talk to me, your voices and where I can feel your presence. I need you where I can shake your hands, hug you, kiss you. Where I can make love to you... Hell! Strip, bitch! I'll just fuck you right here and now!... Oh, I'm sorry. That, too, was uncalled for.

I need you to stay away from my Virtual World. This is my place... this is where I hide and where I say and do the things you wouldn't understand. I'm alright, though. Don't think otherwise... I am alright. As long as you are not here with me, in my Virtual World. And, as long as you are there with me, in my Vicinity World. Then I am perfectly alright... and perfectly sane.

Mommy?

Is that you?

Please, put pennies on my eyes. And... and put me to sleep.

Mommy? Is that really you?

WWC / An Apology

So, the WWC is due for this week. Now, I am beginning to become frustrated at my lack of ability to prepare good shots for this thing, but I am not going to waste my (nor your) time complaining about the quality of pictures I've provided this week. They are what they are... and I hope you will enjoy them anyway :)

As you can see on some of these shots we've had snow already today. I really hate the snow, so my mood today is not the best... I always have a few months of irritation during the winter time. I think I'll move back to Florida one of these days... much better climate!

Before I present to you the WWC pictures of this week, I wanted to issue an apology. I know I lead you people to believe I was going to post some juicy blogs concerning The One, and some of you seem to have been slightly curious as to what that may be... suggestions such as her being a lesbian and possibly pregnant have surfaced on the comments section... keep guessing people - keep me entertained :)

I will post this groundbreaking info one of those days... but, what I thought would happen didn't happen, and now things are very confusing for me as well. I honestly don't know how to write the story, or what to include and what to exclude (I have the right to do that, you know!). I have planned a course of action for how I will tell you the story though... and it is designed to make you understand a little bit better the whole story - which would likely leave you even more confused than I am. I also believe this way you will come to understand why I've held on to my feelings for her as long as I have... and why I've put up with everything she's done.

So, I'm sorry if I haven't delivered what you've been expecting. But, I will, eventually. Until then, I will do my best to entertain you in any way I see fit.

On to this weeks, WWC. As always, the words of the week are brought to you by the endearing Tink of Pickled Beef. And the words are ARCHITECTURE and RED.

The ARCHITECTURE of my house of cards is impressive

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This is my beautiful RED Chrysler Sebring.
(look at the snow... the horror!)

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The front of my RED Chrysler Sebring
(The ugly ass snow... see it?)

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And... what is that RED stuff I'm drinking?

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Well... that will sum up this weeks WWC for me. Enjoy!

Stupid Ass Internet!

Lost connection yesterday... had finished a draft of a post I meant to post, but I will not use that one now as today is WWC day... I am hoping that these changes will remain dated on the 12th of November so that I am still part of the NaBloPoMo thing.

Not my fucking fault the internet went down on me yesterday, is it? How am I supposed to post my blogs when I cannot get to the website?

And, it was the weirdest thing ever... I could reach some websites, but most of them - like 90% or so - I simply could not connect to.

I'll get back to you with my new plan of blogs starting wednesday... Tuesday is reserved for WWC.

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HOOORAY! Dated still at November 12th. My NaBloPoMo quest is still on!

Funday Sunday: "Billy Connolly"

I've always been a big fan of stand-up comedy. To me it is the purest form of entertainment there is. One guy/girl on a stage talking to an audience, making them laugh. When I first came across this guy, a Scottish dude named Billy Connolly, I was laughing so hard I nearly pissed my pants. I think it's the accent, and his rather eccentric appearance that combines for the humor, along with (of course) the stories he tells.

Watch this video for a good laugh.

Now, I don't smoke myself. To be honest, I'm quite happy about people not being allowed to smoke everywhere these days, because I'm not too fond of passive smoking either. I do, however, fully agree with Mr. Connolly as he tells that lady off. If you're sitting somewhere where smoking is allowed... you have no right to ask someone to put out their cigarette.

I'm also in full agreement with the cellphone part. Don't you all just hate it when your having a cup of coffee with a friend, and they start chatting on the friggin' phone, instead of with you while you are sitting right there in front of them, feeling fucking stupid as you have no one to talk to yourself. I'm like:

"Excuse me? Why'd you get a cup of coffee with me, if you're just going to sit there talking to that stupid thing?".

Ever happened to you at the cash register in a store? The clerk holding his hand up while you've got whatever your buying laid out on the counter and a wad of cash in your hands, just wanting to pay and get the hell out of there? I feel like walking around the counter and ring it up myself, putting my money in and grabbing the change... I'm sure that would get him off the phone quickly enough.