A Crappy Weekend With Some Redemption

Let me just start off by saying that anyone who actually has the stupidity to call themselve "punk rock" and doesn't like the Clash gets nowhere with me. In fact, the next person I hear talking about punk rock like they are an expert but doesn't know anything about the Clash, I'm going to stab them in the face with a very blunt object. They hurt a lot more and much more damage than a sharp pointed object.

I had to work Saturday morning, so that kind of ruined my weekend for me. I had to get up at 5:15AM on a Saturday. That's just fucking wrong. It should be illegal. Luckily, work wasn't too difficult. That's not the point, though. The point is that I shouldn't have to work on weekends. It just keeps me tense the whole weekend so that when Monday rolls around, it seems like I haven't had a day off in over a year. It's retarded.

My weekend wasn't all crappy. Gib came home, so that made it not so bad. Just sitting on the couch and watching horrible television shows with him seems to brighten my day. I know that sounds kind of gay, but if I weren't so damn hetero, I would totally date him. Unfortunately, he's engaged and I'm all about the wang dang sweet poontang.

That brings me to what was a very nice experience that turned in a mini-breakdown for me. I went with Gib to have dinner with his family. It's kind of a thing when he comes home. I go with him to have dinner. I like to think that I'm part of the family and I'm pretty sure that the family thinks that same about me. So, we were over his sister's house and we had some homemade pizzas and we just kicked back and hung out. It was quite relaxing. Then it dawned on me. I was hanging out with a married couple, an engaged couple and a girl that was spending way too much time working on her Valentine's Day card for her boyfriend. It wasn't the fact that I was the only person there who didn't have someone, which is normally the case with me. It was that I realized that I'm never going to find anyone. Ever. At least not in this town.

I've given it a lot of thought and it's true. Every girl I know around here is either married, dating someone or thinks I'm not worthy enough to date them. They might be right, but that's not my point. My point is, that's all there is for me here. Married girls, girls dating douchebags, girls that either think I'm such a sweet guy that I'm like a "girlfriend" or girls that wouldn't fuck me if I had Brad Pitt's dick. If you are a girl and you know me, chances are you fit into one of those four categories.

And don't think that is me dumping on myself or anything. It's not. I'm just calling it like I see it. To be honest, in the looks department and what I can offer financially to a girl are lacking, but other than that I guarantee that I'm better than any other guy out there. That's just the truth. I'm pretty laid back about things, but I can get serious when the shit hits the fan. I can be pretty outgoing when it's the right occasion. I'm like a social chameleon, but unlike most social chameleons, I actually have my own personality that's quite unique. Anyone who knows me can attest to that. But, I'm much more than just unique. I'm adaptable. I can go with the flow and fill whatever need that arises. I'm just good like that. So, I know I'm a "catch." Whatever the hell that actually means.

Anyhow, so thinking about all of that in a matter of five seconds really depressed the shit out of me. But, I cheered up pretty quickly because Gib's sister has a puppy and you can't be sad when there's a puppy jumping on you. It's against the rules. Besides, thinking about that stuff was a good thing. I've realized that it's not worth trying anymore around here. I've officially given up even pretending to try and care about girls. It's done and done.

The whole "girls" thing wasn't the only change I went thru over the weekend. My attitudes towards babies changed as well. I'm not creeped out by them anymore. Gib's sister has a little boy who's cuter than... well, just about anything. He's just adorable. Now, don't think that I want to have kids or anything. In fact, seeing this little guy has more than made my decision to never father children even more permanent. I mean, if this kid couldn't warm my heart towards making some babies, then there's nothing that ever will. So, I'm definitely not ever expecting to want to make any babies, but at least I know that they won't creep me the hell out like they used to. I'm sure that if I ever change my mind, I'll even be a pretty decent father, but don't ask me to change any diapers and don't ask me to carry the baby around. I mean, I don't carry a dog around, do I? There's just something really scary about carrying a baby. I don't know what it is. Maybe I'm just more neurotic than I care to admit.

Gib did bring me a new Terrible Towel. I used to have one a long time ago. I bought it the year after they last went to the Super Bowl. I went to see a playoff game in Pittsburgh. They beat the Colts 42-14. It was a great game. I bought my Towel at that game. I had it with me all the time, but I'm sure that it got mixed up with my clothes at some point and when I went thru my clothes and threw some out, I'm sure it got tossed along. Luckily, Gib bought one for me and now I have a new Towel. I know it's gay to actually swing it around, but it's kind of fun to have it with you while you watch the game. It's just like when I wear my Penguins jersey while I'm watching a game on TV. Wearing it to the game makes sense, but it's just a little more fun to wear it at home. Don't ask me why. I won't have an answer.

So, I've listened to the Clash's song Train in Vain for about the fifteenth time in the last hour. It's such a great song. Plus, it's got a happy, almost funky bassline to it that cheers you up, but the lyrics are really depressing as hell. It also sums up what I'd like to say to just about every girl I've ever dated right after they dumped me. The funny thing is, I've never been in a relationship long enough to consider it serious, but this song still strikes a chord with me. If you don't believe me, just ask any girl I've ever been in a relationship with. They'll tell you just how unserious they were. I'm going to post the lyrics to Train in Vain at the bottom of this blog thing. Check them out and checkout the song as well. It's a classic song from a classic album.

Anyhow, back to something dealing with me. This song resonates with me so much because I used to be, and still am, a guy that falls in love very easily. Luckily, I've guarded myself against that. I'm the type of guy that when a girl just talks to me, I immediately think that she's into me. Even if she's just walking past and says "Excuse me." I will think that's her way of saying that I'm foxy. I'm that lame. So, to defend against that I have built up this wall that keeps emotion at bay. It's kind of depressing if you think about it, but it's the best thing I've ever done. Maybe I'm just a huge pussy. I'm tired of thinking about it. But, luckily, I'm cursed and it's the only thing I can think about. Oh well, sadly, life goes on... and on... and on.

For anyone who actually gives a shit, I'm down to 203lbs. Of course, after today, I'm sure I'm up a few pounds, but I've lost 8lbs just from not food that's really crappy for me. I haven't had to jog once yet. That will start once the weather is somewhat nice on a somewhat consistent basis. I can't wait.

Wait, yes I can.....




The Clash - Train in Vain
Say you stand by your man
Tell me something I don't understand
You said you loved me and that's a fact
and then you left me, said you felt trapped

Well some things you can't explain away
But the heartache's in me till this day

CHORUS
You didn't you stand by me
No, not at all
You didn't stand by me
No way

All the times when we were close
I'll remember these things the most
I see all my dreams come tumbling down
I can't be happy without you round

So alone I keep the wolves at bay
and there's only one thing that I can say

CHORUS

You must explain why this must be
Did you lie when you spoke to me

Did you stand by me
No, not at all

Now I got a job, but it don't pay
I need new clothes. I need somewhere to stay
But without all of these things I can do
But without your love I won't make it through

But you don't understand my point of view
I suppose there's nothing I can do

CHORUS X 2

You must explain why this must be
Did you lie when you spoke to me

Did you stand by me
Did you stand by me
No, not at all
Did you stand by me
No way
Did you stand by me
No, not at all
Did you stand by me
No way

Maybe I Want the Subject Line to Be Blank Motherfucker!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Why is it that every "tool" that you can possibly use on MySpace is ALWAYS under some sort of maintenance? I mean, how many times do you have to fix something that appeared to be working pretty well. Christ, all I want to do is check my mail, realize that no one wants to talk to me and log the fuck out, but you can't even log in because the system is always down for some reason. MySpace is almost as annoying as the people who use it. I include myself.

Live From New York, It's Saturday Night!

So, I went to New York City two days ago. Talk about a fun ass trip. We left at 10:30AM and we pulled into NYC at 2:30PM. That's four hours. We went 300 miles in four hours. You can do the math. Or I'll do it for you. We averaged 75 mph. That's fast. We took over an hour to finally find a place to park. A parking garage in NYC costs about $6.75/half hour. That's a lot of fucking money to park all day. We needed to park for a minimum of 6 hours. Luckily, we kept driving around and actually found a spot on the side of the road. The way that parking on the street works is like this. You don't get an individual parking meter. You go to a centralized one that will print out a receipt for you to place on your dashboard. You can only park for 6 hours at most. Parking costs 50 cents for 15 minutes. We parked for 6 hours and it only cost us $12. That's what I call saving a shit load of money. But it didn't come easy, though. The only way to pay the meter is with quarters, $1 coins or with a parking card. Well, since we're from Pennsylvania, we don't have a parking card. You'd think they'd let you use a credit card or something, but nope. So, I ran from store to store trying to find $12 in change. I ended up finding $6 in quarters. Beamen had to run and find the rest. Luckily, he did and we got to park on the street. Our time was up at 10:06PM. More about that in a minute.

We headed on over to Rockafeller Center to get our tickets. It turns out we were super, super early and that they weren't handing out tickets until around 6:30, so we had a few hours to kill. We went for a walk around the block and we ate at this really great local restaurant called McDonalds. Their chicken was amazing. I highly recommend it.

We eventually made it back and we waited in line for what seemed like days. We finally got our tickets and we got to go upstairs to wait in another that was closer to the studio. We waited there for about 20 minutes. I saw Clay Aiken standing around. He looks like a bigger douche in person.

They finally let us go sit down and let me tell you, the SNL studio is friggin' small. Each set is about the size of my living room. They only have two sets up at a time. While you're watching a sketch, the other set is being torn down and a new one goes up in its place. They are a well-oiled machine. They do a top-notch job.

The host was Peter Sarsgaard. Click on his name to see who he is. He was a great host and the sketches were pretty damn funny. On tv, they might have been kind of weak, but there's just something about seeing something in person and beign around a group of people who are laughing. It just makes you want to laugh.

Then it happened. Weekend Update. My two secret girlfriends are the hosts. Tiny Fey and Amy Poehler. They are my secret girlfriends because they don't know about it yet. But, they will. Some day. They were kick ass as always and Drew Barrymore made an appearance. So, three very lovely ladies were standing oh so close to me, yet they were oh so far. Someday I will find them. Oh yes, I will.

Anyhow, after the show was over, it was after 10PM and we had to run to Beamen's car before it got ticketed. Luckily, we didn't make a note of where we parked. We had a gernal idea and we just ran in that general direction. We finally got to the right street and we found his car. Lo and behold, there wasn't a ticket. Ha Ha, we stuck it to NYC!!!!

Then NYC stuck it to us. I'm used to driving in Pittsburgh where there are signs everywhere. I mean, if you want to go to Oakland, there will be a sign somewhere telling you in what direction you need to go. NYC doesn't have that. We couldn't find the Lincoln Tunnel to save our lives. We eventually ended up somewhere no where near where we wanted to be. Luckily, though, Beamen asked for directions and a really nice, really italian guy gave him super precise directions. Whoever that guy was, we thank you. A lot!

We found the Lincoln Tunnel eventually and we headed back home. This time taking a half hour longer than our trip there. But, we were tired and didn't want to rush home. Slow and leisurely was definitely nice. I ended up walking thru my door at 4:30AM. Just in time to go to bed and not get enough sleep.

I was up super early. It was game day. I was too nervous. Luckily, the Steelers put a pounding on the Broncos. And when you add hanging with my dad and my uncle to the game, it gets even better. Throw in the lasagna, and it may very well have been the most perfect Sunday ever. Well, if the Steelers win the Super Bowl, that will be the most perfect Sunday.

Anyhow, this little blog isn't as funny as usual. For that, I apologize, but I'm too happy right now to be funny. Deal with it.

Zero Weddings and a Funeral

So, I just got home from my cousin's funeral. Talk about depressing. Not just because of the situation, I mean, that's depressing enough. Sitting in church for an hour makes it even worse. And I swear, the priest was only learning his lines a few words at a time. It was brutal. He'd say three or four words and then pause.

Then a few more words.

Pause.

A few...

Pause.

...more words.

Pause.

And I rememeberd why I never, ever go to church. It's goddamned ridiculous. I'm an atheist so all of it is ridiculous to me, but even if I believed in god, I would find the whole process of sitting and standing and kneeling and breaking bread and shaking some incence and whatever the hell else the priest does to be friggin' useless. I mean, if god exists and he's everywhere at all times, do you really need to go to church? Can't you just sit in your back yard and talk to him by yourself? Anyhow, my hatred of church isn't what I'm trying to write about. So, I digress...

It was really hard to see some members of the family taking it so hard. It's totally understandable that they would be so upset. That's not my point. My point is that it's just hard to watch. I just want to walk over, give them a hug and somehow transfer all the pain from them to me. Of course, it's impossible to do that, but it doesn't mean I didn't wish I could do it anyhow. But, with every tragedy, something good usually comes of it. And in a case like this, it means almost the entire family gets together. It was nice to see people I haven't seen in years. Of course, you wish that the circumstances were better, but hopefully something like this will show everyone that we need to have get togethers that aren't funerals or weddings. I mean, with my family, drinking is reason enough to party, so why not get the whole family together?

Anyhow, by the end of the little luncheon afterwards, everyone seemed to be in better spirits. I know there's still going to be nights where people just can't handle it, but it's nice to see that the healing process has at least begun, even if it's still a long time away from being complete.

Anyhow, this stupid blog isn't supposed to be about other people, it's supposed to be about me, so enough with this "caring" bullshit. It's all about me now mofos!!

So, I got sick as shit on Wednesday night. I just felt super cold and couldn't stop shivering for about four hours. I had a ton of clothes on and a few blankets and my space heater cranked up to 80 and I still couldn't get warm. I just kept shivering and feeling like I was going to throw up. I took a few sleeping pills hoping that I'd pass out and sleep it off. It did the trick because I woke up around 1AM and I was sweating my balls off. I couldn't breathe it was so hot. But I felt like shit all day Thursday and even today I'm still feeling pretty crappy. I've has this nagging headache that comes and goes. It feels like someone is pushing a needle thru the back of my skull for about a minute or two and then it goes away and I feel fine. It's pretty weird. Hopefully I'm feeling alright for tomorrow because I have a long, long day of traveling ahead of me. Tomorrow morning I leave for NYC to see SNL. It should be fun. I'm going with Beamen, who is moving to Colorado on Monday or Tuesday, so it's kind of his last hurrah before he leaves. The musical guest is going to be the Strokes, so there's a decent chance we might both get kicked out for harassing them. I mean, they fucking suck. They really do. God, I hate them.

Anyhow, the big Steelers game is on Sunday. That should be a lot of fun, especially if they win. I really hope they do because I'd really like to see the Steelers win a Super Bowl in my lifetime. Plus, I'd like to see my dad see them win. I know he'd get a big kick out of it.

Well, I'm really out of things to write. Plus, I need to take a nap. It's been a long few days and I'm sure I've had it way easier than most. Besides, I have a world to save.

What Does It All Mean?

So, the past few days have been pretty hectic for me. Of course, when I look at what others have been going thru, I consider myself lucky. But, this is my gay little journal, so I'm going to be selfish and talk about me. If you don't like it, you can get out.

I had plans to go see George Carlin this Thursday in State College. It turns out Mr. Carlin is having some heart problems so the show got postponed to February 24th. That's fine by me. It will be a lot more lighthearted affair than it would be this week.

Instead of going to see George Carlin (which I can't anyhow, luckily) I have to go to my cousin's funeral. For those of you that know about it already, then you know what I'm talking about. Anyone who doesn't already know, chances are you don't know for a reason and this stupid gournal is not the place for you to find out.

Anyhow, I found out about the entire episode on Sunday about an hour or so after the Steelers put a hurting on the Colts. My sister knew about it most of the day, but was decent enough to let my father find out after the game. She wanted to at least be happy during the game. After she told us about everything that happened I didn't know what to think. Of everyone in our entire family, she always seemed like the most level headed one. She was crazy, but we were all crazy in our own way. I started thinking of the many other family members I thought would go before she would. Hell, I'm surprised I'm still around myself.

Anyhow, the past two days I've had the knot in my stomach that always shows up whenever someone passes away. But, like every other time, I'm not as affected as I should be. I mean, I'm upset and bummed out and all that stuff, but as far as my emotional state, I'm more or less normal. I was the same way when my grandmother died a few years ago. I feel bad, but I don't let it bother me. And that bothers me. I know I'm the uncaring asshole that I appear to be, but what other explanation is there? I know I have a pretty laidback view towards death, but to be totally unaffected by it frightens me. That's why I hope no one I know is ever murdered because I'd be the perfect suspect because I wouldn't the type of sadness that an innocent person should show.

My feelings on death are as follows: Death ain't so bad. I see death as the reward for having lived. Eternal rest is hardly the worst thing that can happen to someone. I know that I don't really fear being dead. I fear dying, but dying is scarey as shit. Going to sleep and never waking up doesn't scare me. Being alive and then knowing that you're going to slowly die gives me the willies. It's that slow pain that scares me. This coming from a guy who's tried to kill himself before. It ain't the final curtain that's so scarey, it's the goddamn traffic getting home that's the bitch.

Anyhow, one-way ticket back from Tangenttown, please.

Where was I? I don't know, but I'm going to just start with this. I have a wake on Thursday and a funeral on Friday. Should be creepy as hell. I find the whole ritual of death to be way creepier than the actual thing. But, I guess that for some people it's a way to cope. That's not such a bad thing. For me, it's just creepy. But I'm going to deal with it because I have to. Anything little thing I can do to help, I'll do. This is one of those little things. Just so I have this on record, though, whenever I die, please, no funerals. No wakes. No graveyard. No urn. Just burn me up, put me in a Tupperware dish and scatter my ashes somewhere. If you have to have a get together of some sort, please, no dress clothes. Jeans and t-shirts only. I don't want anyone doing anything for my expense. Just go to a bar and have a few drinks. That's all I ask.

Well, I've now lost track of any sort of point I was trying to make. Let's just put it this way. Things suck right now. Things are going to suck for the next few days. And to all of my friends and family, I love you all more than you know and more than I'll show. Just because I'm cold heartless bastard doesn't mean that I don't care. I just don't get all worked up about it.

Anyhow, until next time, this is me wasting your time.

Not As Fat!

So, I'm down to 208.5 lbs. It's all about rice. Ten trillion asian people can't be wrong. At this rate, I will officially be "hot" in about seven years. I can't wait!!!!

I'm going to see George Carlin in State College next Thursday. Should be pretty awesome. He's funny. I like to laugh. It's a great combination. The last time I saw him I had a great time. Beamen can back me up on that. Granted, I actually had a shitty time on the way home, but that was because I'm a guy who think girls should like me even when they don't. I'm stupid like that.

The day after I see Mr. Carlin I'm leaving for NYC to see SNL. Also, I'll be getting loaded with my boy Drew. I'm glad I got the SNL tickets just because now I have a reason to go to NYC. I mean, Drew's great at all, but driving for five fucking hours just to hang out would be fucking nuts. Now, if he was going to suck me off, then maybe we'll start talking.

So, I was thinking at work today that the best thing ever was to turn twenty one. Not because I finally was able to drink legally, but because now I can back any law that wants to restrict anything for anyone under the age of twenty one. I mean, sixteen year olds shouldn't be allowed to drive anymore as far as I'm concerned. We should raise the age for porn and cigarettes to, how old am I now? Oh, we should raise it all to 26. I love knowing that in some stores thirteen year olds can't be certain cds. They can't get into certain movies. They can't even buy cold medicine. It's fucking great. Why is it great? Because I'm old enough to be a dick. Plus, I can make money of these stupid shits by charging them double what the item costs just to get it for them. I love being old.

Anyhow, that's it. Seriously, I'm done.

Okay, one more little tidbit just for you. Wait, not you, the other guy. Yes, him. He's cool. You're a dick.

Is it wrong to want to have sex with fifteen year old girls? I know it's kind of illegal, but is it morally wrong? I mean, if my body tells me it's the right thing to do, does that make it okay? Should I listen to my brain or my loins? Well, it doesn't matter because both say I should hit it. My point is this. If she's going to have sex anyhow, shouldn't it be with me since I'm not a jerk. Plus, most guys that age last about twenty seconds. I can last atleast twice that long. Of course, halfway thru I'm crying, but I still stay at it. Anyhow, if you know a fifteen year old girl who would be willing to do it with me, please, for her sake, keep her away. I wouldn't want to ruin her idea of sex for the rest of her life.

Was that gross? You tell me America!

Everybody Poops!

So far I've lost zero pounds. But, I haven't gained any either. It made me wonder since all I ate was a plate of spaghetti, an apple and a few slices of bread. Well, it turns out that I had about five pounds of poop inside of me. It was pretty gross.

Tomorrow I'm going to Wal-Mart to buy a big black hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. That way, when I go jogging people might not recognize me. It's god damn embarassing to jog when you're fat. I'm going for the whole Unibomber look. I'm hoping that someone will see me and think that maybe the real Unibomber isn't actually in prison. A boy can dream.

I'm going to see Saturday Night Live in less than three weeks. I already have a boner for Tina Fey and Amy Poehler. I'm thinking I might get arrested for rushing the stage during Weekend Update.

The new Flaming Lips album drops on April 4^th. It should be pretty fucking good. I can't wait to finally hear the damn thing.

Well, I have to go touch myself and feel guilty about it. Until next time!

I Am Fat.

So, today marks the first day of me trying to lose weight. I figure I'm going to weigh myself every day at work and put it on this stupid blog to let everyone know how bad I am at getting skinny. Today, I weighed in at 211.1 lbs. That is a lot. Feel free to check in every day and see how quickly/slowly I can make it to 175. It should be a huge pain in the ass.

It's Called "Fake Enthusiasm" People!!!

"Fake Enthusiasm" is my new un-official motto for the New Year. I was thinking about going with "This is going to be the best year ever!" but I don't want to start out 2006 by lying to myself and everyone else like that. So, I'm going with a very honest one. "Fake Enthusiasm" is how I'm going to live this year. No matter how shitty things get I'm going to pretend that it's all good.

Last night I did ring in the New Year in style. At the crack of midnight, I opened my 6 oz. bottle of exotic fruit Arbor Mist. I drank it straight from the bottle. Man, it was classy. Hugh Hefner, you sir, can eat your heart out.

This week I'm going to start working on my New Year's resolutions. It should be a huge pain in the ass, but it's all about "Fake Enthusiasm" this year. No matter how bad it gets while I'm trying to lose weight, I'm just going to pretend that I'm happy. Same goes for writing my book. Both things are going to take many, many months to finally complete. Both probably won't happen, but... wait, I forgot. Both are going to happen. *wink, wink*

There's that "Fake Enthusiasm" working its magic.

My Penguins have won two games in a row. That's only the second time that's happened this year. That's got to be some sort of good omen. Of course, when they lose the next ten games in a row, I don't think this good omen will mean too much.

Last night after I got home from the New Year's shindig I went to, I saw a box sitting on my front porch. I had no clue what it was because I hadn't ordered anything lately. It ended up being an order I made to Columbia House a week or so ago. I thought it was going to take way longer to arrive than it did. So, I opened it up and all I could think was, "Why did I order Ski School 2?" I remember liking that movie a lot when I was thirteen and had Showtime. It's a pretty funny movie from the 80's that had the same plot that all movies from the 80's had. Someone needs money to save their ski lodge, dance club, youth center, etc. but they don't come up with it in time, the bank takes it from them. To get it back, a group of well-meaning misfits try to raise money to get it back. When that fails, they make a bet with the banker or the banker's son and they have to win the dance competition, ski contest or whatever to get whatever the thing is they lost. They always win and someone always steals the girlfriend of the jerk. That's a classic 80's movie. Ski School 2 is no exception. I just don't know what possessed me to order it. Maybe I'm weird.