Life or Something Like It

I don't really know what to say right now. I'm flabbergasted. How can someone show such flagrant disregard, DISRESPECT, to someone who's given so much to them. I know that life isn't always rosy and I know how it is to feel regret. I also know that using the past as an excuse for your behavior in the present is a cop out. Grow the fuck up. Be a man. Quit taking and taking and taking. The well is nearly dry, can't you see that? Open your eyes! Show some respect for the woman who raised you and not the current pussy of the month. You've always said you hated liars and manipulators. What is it that you think you've become? Using words, hateful, knowingly life destroying words, to bend someone to your will is pure manipulation. Man up, deal with the shit, then get your life in order. And take care of someone else, think about someone other than yourself for once in your life.

To the pussy of the month: You can go straight to hell. You are owed nothing. You've taken enough.

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I am looking less and less like a lobster every day. I almost want to go to the lake this weekend. My still sensitive flesh is telling me to stay in the dark, however. I've even avoided walking this week because I couldn't stand to be in the heat. I'll start back tomorrow, I may have to dress like the Amish but it's something I must do. It's all coming to a close now and I have the itching and peeling to look forward to. Yay.

Have I mentioned how much I love weenie dogs lately? They're the sweetest creatures, a little hyper and annoying at times, yes. But when they snuggle in your lap and give you hugs, it's the best. All they need is food, a pat on the head and sleep. They don't ask for much, they don't talk back and they treat you with absolute adoration. Why can't people be like that?! Ha!

This weekend should be an interesting one, in more ways than one. I plan on mostly hanging at home and living vicariously through those around me. I might wash a dish or I might fold a towel or, if I'm feeling really industrious, I might mow the driveway. Right now, I need to get my shit together so I can go home. What are y'all planning for the weekend?


"Overheard in New York" Quote of the Day
Hot nerd on cell: I mean seriously, what's the point of having friends if you can't occasionally accuse them of sexual deviance?
--40th & 3rd, New York City

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You know what I've learned in the past few years? I've learned that some people are just asses. Plain and simple asses, or PASA.

Most of the PASA are excellent actors and are able to create these huge extravagant productions. The whirlwind that surrounds PASA can suck you in to what I like to call the Big Fat Lie production company. They lure you in and make you trust them, cast you as the star and even make you somewhat dependent on that paycheck. Then these PASA decide they've tired of playing their part and switch production companies on you. You're left holding the tattered script of your life, wondering how the hell you've become the extra in someone else's play. It takes hours and hours of tedious work to tape your life script back together (Can't you fix anything with duct tape?). As you meticulously place that last piece of adhesive, you realize that although your script was irreversibly changed there are no limits to the pages you can add. It just takes a little chutzpa and courage to pick up the pen.

Oh, and Mr. PASA, why don't you pick up your pen you coward and write the rest of your life, the REAL story.

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I've been watching this show on A&E or Biography or some channel along those lines called 'I Survived'. The premise of the show is basically ordinary people surviving extraordinary situations. There are no props, no re-enactments... just a single person talking into the camera and telling his or her story.

This show has really screwed up my dreams of rainbows and lollipops. Now my dreams are filled with home invaders, rapists and serial killers or I'm stranded in the middle of an ocean surrounded by sharks and no fresh water. The logical thing to do would be to, hmm, stop watching, right? I can't, though! I'm fascinated by this sort of thing.

My subconscious may twist things around in the vast, dark space that is my brain but when I take a broom to some of the cobwebs I find these stories inspire me. They stimulate those few brain cells and I begin to imagine what I would do in different situations. How would I react? How would you react?


This is my entry for a little MySpace group called Blog Pick. Follow the link below to check out differing, but fascinating introspectives on a single topic.

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