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  • What a pleasant surprise

    To discover that I have even fewer friends than I'd suspected. I've always been able to make friends easily, and, of course, lose them even more easily. I tend to be kind of a user. A parasite, as it were. I use people for whatever I can get/take from them and then I cast them aside. Well, now karma (yet again) is coming back to kick my stupid ass. Truthfully, I wouldn't have it any other way. It's good to keep on your toes. To hope for the best, prepare for the worst, and insure everything.

    This morning, I sent out e-mails to a bunch of folks, asking them for their input with regard to questions (preferably of the offbeat sort) to ask of the fair Dana Hamm. Sadly, the responses were few and far between. Thanks to Jay and Chun for coming through for me, though. Maybe folks simply thought I was kidding. You'd think that somebody who's gotten married in Las Vegas on the 1st date and become a minister (still no prospective sheep for my flock, sigh) online would be believed when he says he's done or is doing something. And folks say I'M cynical. Well, yeah, I guess I kinda am. Well, I managed to cobble together a set of questions to ask of the nice model. Hopefully, she'll see fit to answer them and, possibly, to let me ask a few more. Then I'll see if I can accomplish the technicalities of posting said interview. One crisis at a time.

    As I said earlier, I also sent a friendly, back-to-basics type missive to the divine Ms. K. Apparently, I was correct in concluding that I'd over-estimated things with her. Oh, well, that'll happen. Either that or I simply scared her off. That, too, happens all too often when one is I. Note to self: don't tell folks, be they women or just plain folks; about your ex-wife and your half-assed stalker. Nobody cares. Hell, do I even care? Not especially. I'm fairly certain that cut my losses time has arrived. Which is too bad, as I'd hoped Kendra and I could at least be friends. And not the secret kind. Naturally, this little revelation means that our softball team's end of year party next weekend will be a fairly scary situation. I'm shooting for a cross between the Spring Fling and the Tet Offensive. Or Christmas in Hell, it could go either way.


    I was listening to another employee, who's a pretty good guy, vent his frustrations, work-wise, last night. I'm a pretty good listener, stays quiet, keeps to himself, never bothers anybody, sort of fellow. And as he was doing so, I realized how thankful I am for my sorry little blog, as I get to rant and rave and spew venom every which way 2 or 3 or however many times a day. Yay, blogging! Yay, me!


    Thanks to all of you who've stopped by to the tune of 941 MB of downloaded info this month. Much obliged. Obviously, it's the goofy pictures that do it, so I'll try to keep 'em coming.

    Thanks again to James of Ripe Word Fruit of the Num-Num Tree, who lives on the beach in FLA, I'm glad you're safe and sound, if somewhat inconvenienced. You're totally right, black hooker-wise. The extreme DOES tend to make an impression, don't it? And lord knows that I, as both a no-kidding loon and fun/quirky kind of fella; love to give folks stories to tell. I am, after all, a legend in my own ''mind''. I'll have to seriously contemplate this one.

    Thanks also to Suzanne of Reinventing the Bell Jar, who is going back to college. I wish you nothing but good luck with that endeavour. It's always good to attempt to better oneself, and I know you'll be successful at anything you try. My ministry and Christian-ity proceed slowly, mostly because I'm sort of a non-linear thinker, as y'all may have gathered over the 4 months and change I've been committing crimes against pretty much anybody and everything I can think of.


    Another dream of K today. In this one, I learned that certain liberties had been taken (against her will) with regard to her frame and virtue. I just fucking LOST it, and waited for the guy outside his house. Oh hell yeah, I fucked that boy UP! It takes a lot to get me riled up, especially now, with the light of inner peace and serenity which being the Reverend Christian Manson has so obviously brought me, but the thought of someone I consider at least a friend (even if I'm tragically mistaken) being mistreated or suffering in any way tends to make me see crimson. As in mask, as in somebody ending up with blood covering and obscuring their facial features.

    Anyway, the whole time I'm smashing this guy's face through every single picket of a fence and preparing to flay him alive with a box-cutter (not as easy as it sounds), I'm realizing that my psychotic, Bruce Banner, Hulk SMASH! style rage is so not attractive. Said so, too. Even cried a bit whilst I did so. I know, I'm such a chick sometimes.


    Didn't think I was going to be able to post this tonight, still more server problems when I attempted to edit. Yes, I DO edit, hard to tell though, ain't it? Whatever. I've come to expect technology, like the Fates to fuck with me at every opportunity. Time to leave for work, so good night, Mr. Serious; good night, Eat Me Beat Me Lady; good night to everyone affected (still not sure whether it's that or effected) by Katrina; good night to my nutty ex-wife; good night, Dana Hamm, I hope your birthday was nothing but good times; good night to the folks I still consider my friends; and, finally, good night Kendra. I'm still a better person for having gotten to know you even a little bit. And I've really no right to ask for more than that out of any I don't want to say relationship, as it's wrong, so I'll go with encounter. Y'all know what I mean. Until manana, y'all stay safe and know someone with an in with god is concerned for your well-being.




  • Women of the Day 8/31/05

    I certainly hope those of y'all affected (or is it effected?) by Katrina are safe and sound and enjoying a nice hurricane party somewhere well inland and away from glass and tall buildings. Take care, y'all, I simply can't have my readers geting themselves perished.


    Sadly, I find myself repeating myself and having to delete way too often of late. One of the hazards of daily (and then some) posts. But still I battle, and I shall prevail. Or not. Whatever.


    Happy 26th Birthday to the delightful Ms. Dana Hamm. Apparently, it's anything goes, questions-wise, as long as they're interesting and fun. Oh, the pressure. And I think we all know how well (let's go with not at all) I handle pressure. On the door opening, window closing (or however that shit goes) tip: it's a DAMN good thing I've currently got this trading e-mails with the nice model thing going to distract me. Otherwise I'd likely be in an alcoholic talespin. Although that could be fun and interesting, too. Perhaps next week at our softball team's year-end shindig. Or is it hullaballoo?


    There's always a worse road than the one you're travelling, and, odds are I'm lying on my back in the middle of it, reading this month's issue of Jugs Magazine. For the articles, naturellement.


    She's Like The Wind. DAMN, that Patrick Swayze could wail, couldn't he? Whatever became of him after Roadhouse (vastly underrated, by the way-especially when he rips out that guy's throat) and, of course, the SNL (when it was still intentionally funny) Chippendales' audition skit with (Saint of the Day:) Chris Farley? Adrian vs. Barney, mano y mano. Fuck, that was some funny shit. They simply don't make 'em like that anymore (sigh), do they? If I recall correctly, Jay and I watched that like every day for a year or so oncet.


    Since this week Doonesbury involves one of its characters doing a review of Krispy Kreme's Flavour of the Month on his blog...

    I went to my neighborhood Krispy Kreme yesterday after work, and they FINALLY had brought back my beloved New York Cheesecake flavoured slice of Heaven. Yay, Krispy Kreme! About fucking time. And no, that wasn't even the Flavour of the Month. That would be Apple Cobbler, which is good also. Although, with the crack-based flour they use, almost anything would taste wonderful-like. Cockroach and cabernet? Gravy and gasoline? Well, maybe not anything.


    Jesus died for somebody's sins but not mine.


    I noticed one of the other employees at work enjoying a traditional Oriental meal on coffee break last night. Oddly enough, yes, he was Oriental. I realized that given my heritage and roots; authentic cuisine for me would be white (Wonder) bread slathered liberally with mayonnaise. Ain't that sad? Represent.


    Of late, I've been mulling over the possibility of volunteering on the local Distress Centre's hotline. Perhaps on Friday or Saturday nights, since there's not much going on here; what with the pending divorce (I'm MUCH too heartbroken to date again, after all; not to mention too lazy. Oops, I guess I mentioned it. Silly me.) and this whole pining away for my wonderful neighbor deal (I e-mailed her again today, right back to basics, how are you? I am fine-style). I think I'd be pretty good at it. Well, except for that whole not giving a fuck thing. Seriously, though, I've been there, and I'm considering it for real-like. And I have NO use for volunteering. Fuck, maybe I really am growing and shit. I shudder to even think of it.


    The list:


    1) Ciara (I needed some color today, and I quite enjoy 1-2 Step, song and video.)


    2) Marie Curie (researched the element Uranium (no, it's not from Uranus) and discovered radioactivity. co-discovered radium and polonium with her husband. the 1st person to ever receive a 2nd Nobel Prize.)


    3) Christina Lindley (actress, fashion model, and fitness model. check her out at Gene Simmons.com's Ladies in Waiting section as well as Christina Lindley.net. Playboy's August, 2005 Babe of the Month, and she most certainly IS.)


    4) Katrina Vanden Heuvel (editor of The Nation since 1995. author, political commentator, and dedicated to public service. kinda like I am, only slightly more so.)


    5) Jill Hennessy (some Canadian content, apparently she's from Edmonton, born on November 25th (Jay's birthday's the 26th; my mom's is the 27th; my sister's is the 16th; my brother-in-law's is the 11th:it IS a small world, after all.), 1969. I keep meaning to watch Crossing Jordan, and, should my baby ever find her way back to me; I will.)


    My p.c.'s starting to act up again, so I'm out. Thanks to Jay for the many question ideas (I sent out feelers to a bunch of folks, man enough to seek help am I). Way to come through in the clutch, my brother.



  • Title, schmitle

    Again, much love to the online gambling folks for still more comments today. Greatly appreciated. Y'all are touching a boy's heart with your concern for my well-being and continuing patronage of the site. Muchas gracias.


    The more I see of Dana Hamm, the more I WANT to see. I attempted to read her interview with IGN Babes (she thoughtfully sent me the link this a.m.), and managed to make it through the how'd you get started and where are you from questions before I drifted off (30 second attention span, remember?) and was distracted by the pictures from her calendar. Very nice. Very look, shiny. Y'all should check out the interview if you get the chance. I know I'll finish it, as I want to avoid asking the same questions of her. Again, e-mail me any questions you'd like to ask this fine and shapely creature, and I'll see what I can do to accommodate you. And please don't give me swallow or spit , as I'm trying to be a little more creative than that. Aren't I ambitious? And, besides, the ex-wife already suggested I use that one. I guess she knows me better than I thought.

    Anyway, once I actually come up with some offbeat type questions (she said to ask things in line with the ''format'' of my blog; I'm going to ask if there are any questions she'd simply refuse to answer, just to set some boundaries, as y'all know I don't really have a format or even a stream of consciousness. I simply go where I go and then read about it afterwards.), I'll attempt to post the resulting e-mail exchange in some way. I'll even attempt to post her shiny pictures in the middle of said interview. Damn, these wings are melting again. Anyway, forgive me if it ends up looking a bit choppy, my heart's in the right place.


    Had 2 more off beat dreams today. The first involved walking through the area around my place of work. The neat and comforting twist was that it was now a ghost town. No people anywhere. Sigh, if only. Other than that and the fact I awoke from it at about 6:30 p.m., not too much to report.

    The 2nd dream was payback for the 1st. Curse you, subconscious. In this one, I was wandering through a seemingly endless shopping mall because apparently I was using it as a short cut to get home. Along the way, I encountered a never-ending stream of the detritus of humanity. The flotsam and jetsam (LOVE that phrase), if you will. And they all seemed to want to talk about something or other. At least they weren't begging for change. The dream ended when I was surrounded by a family with I don't know, 50 or a hundred kids, all of which began squalling simultaneously. Which was when my alarm decided to go off, oddly enough. THAT was a pleasant wake-up. Although it did rescue me from the children of the damned or whoever the fuck they were. Every silver lining has it's dark cloud, after all.

    I'd always thought of sleepytime as my respite from the monotony of day-to-day. Now, not so much. But, at least the dreams aren't exactly boring.


    You're what I look for. Je pense que je t'adore.

    Always liked me some Glass Tiger. Yep, TOTAL child of the 80's. Nope, not ashamed or repentant at all. Which is strange, as I usually am both about almost everything else. Maybe I'm growing? Uh huh, sure pal. Anything you say, ace.


    Well, off like a prom dress. Gots an interview to read and perhaps I'll try and e-mail the fair K one last time (still no reply) before I opt for it's cut my losses time.