Confessions of a Crazy Ex - A letter from S

I received an email from "S" the other day that went like this:

“I never thought I would be a crazy ex but it just happened and I didn’t realize until after. Basically my ex started seeing another guy a couple weeks after we broke up but she’s clearly just using him for hook ups because he’s going to be leaving May 16 to go to the military and she’s only known him for about a month and Snapchat has wonderful thing that you could see peoples locations. I saw she was at his house for hours and I got upset and started sending her her location and saying “how could you” and “I’m never going to be your friend”. And all she did was just block me on Snapchat and then Ignore me. So the next day I went to her college which is about three hours away for me to apologize and I bought her a rose and when she saw I was there when I knocked on her door she didn’t answer and I waited for hours for her to show and during that time she started blocking me on Instagram and Facebook and she wasn’t answering any my messages. Until she sent her friends to tell me to go away and go home. I didn’t do anything else after that but send her a message saying that I was basically they are to apologize and she was making me look bad by not replying to me. I know this sounds crazy but I just wanted to get a second opinion on how bad it is?”


Operational definition : Crazy Ex
A person whose actions, triggered by a the emotional fallout from a recent breakup, go above and beyond the normal response to save a relationship that has already ended. In other words, doing entirely too much.

As with all undesirable behavior, the first step to addressing it is to identify it. It is very positive and encouraging that you have self-identified that you may have gone a bit batshit here. While that does not make any unstable behaviors acceptable, it will go a long way towards making sure that you don't repeat such mistakes. Saying I'm sorry does so little in the real world of adults to heal emotional wounds. The most important piece of advice I give anyone is don't be sorry, do better. Words really mean very little in the big picture, but actions really do speak volumes.

You don't want to be on... either side of this really.

Now to address the reason why you wrote me, let's breakdown the tape, so to speak.  I think you already know what your first and biggest mistake was here; staying connected on social media. HUGE MISTAKE, but you have probably realized that by now. The entire point of social media is to let you know what someone else is doing at all times, whether they want you to or not. When you break up with someone, it is your responsibility to block them IN ALL WAYS POSSIBLE. I cannot stress that enough. You must be swift, thorough and you must not hesitate. And we all know what happens if you hesitate; if you hesitate then you will become dead Marine. That's what they said in Full Metal Jacket, and I'm fairly certain that's relevant here. She blocked you, and once that happened any possibility of a future relationship with her, in any form, was gone. Block first if for no other reason than it feels good to quit rather than get fired. Trust me, I know what it's like to unintentionally glean information about an ex when you really weren't trying, which is why you have to be diligent about protecting yourself from any unwanted revelations.

We live in such a connected age you will find things that remind you of her everywhere. Here are just some of the places you have to block her; Google, Gmail, LinkedIn, Facebook (obviously) Twitter, Instagram, SnapChat, Spotify, Gchat, Messenger, everything. Clear all of your browsing data. Erase all search history. Erase and block not only her phone number but the numbers of all of her friends and anyone who may know how to reach her. You have to protect yourself from future you, because at some point future you is going to be drunk, or tired, or lonely, or all three, and will want to try to contact her and you have to take away all of his options. An undervalued facet of any breakup is protecting yourself from yourself. You had two weeks to burn all bridges. If you had done all of the blocking immediately, you'd have saved yourself a lot of time, heartache, and gas money. If you haven't done so yet, please burn everything (figuratively speaking) immediately.

The next error you committed is in reconstructing her motivations for her current actions. It is none of your business what (or who) she is doing now, and here's why; how is anything you learn going to help you? It doesn't matter if she's seeing this guy for sex, for a relationship, or for paving her driveway (not a metaphor.) There is no scenario where you knowing about her current activities works out well for you. Look at this from a cost/benefits analysis point of view. You and her are newly broken up, and one of the ways people cope with breakups is by hooking up with someone else immediately. A human mind in the midst of a breakup is a terrible thing; it will only replay the worst outcomes over and over, and the longer you dwell on your ex the more your perceived reality will conform to fit your fears. You have to save yourself from inquiring into her new life not for her, but for you. The best motivation to mind your own business is to avoid further pain. The chances are high that she won't be doing anything you're happy about, so why put yourself through further grief? On the surface you may say that you're trying to reach her out of guilt or to apologize for some offense, but really you are just looking for an excuse to see her again. By the way, a good way to figure put if you're engaging in obsessive ex-boyfriend behavior is if anything involving your ex takes “hours.” You knew she was at his house for “hours”, you drove for three “hours”, you waited outside of her dorm for “hours”. Nothing involving an ex should take more than 5 minutes, long enough to curse them out one last time or just say goodbye forever. Anything longer that that and you are probably straying into crazy territory.

Not knowing that you were out of control is a real thing. In my personal experience, there were many times that I didn't know that I was being crazy until after it was over, which is why it is very important to have someone in your life who is boring. A completely boring, average person is absolutely essential to the life of an emotionally adventurous person. Whenever I'm very upset about something I have friends that I talk to before I act just to make sure that my response and level of emotional excitement is proportional to the stimulus. In other words, I have people to tell me if I'm overreacting. We all need a point of reference for “normal” so we don't go off and do something stupid, kind of like a lighthouse in a sea of madness. When we are operating in a heightened emotional state, it becomes difficult to think rationally. Some people's neurons are wired so that their logical thoughts are interconnected with their emotional impulses in such a way that they literally cannot think straight when they're upset. If you don't have a person like that in your life, I highly suggest going to a therapist. In fact, go to a therapist anyway. I cannot overstate how important a good therapist can be is providing you with unbiased insight into your behavior.

Let's review; she blocked you so block her on everything. Engage and feel your feelings, remember they're your feelings and it's your responsibility to resolve them, not anyone else. Block her on everything. From what you've written you did go full crazy ex, but you can pull back before any more damage is done. Work on healing you. Read this article that goes into more depth on why breakups hurt so much. It helped me to know that a lot of the pain I was feeling wasn't heartache or missing love, but stupid brain chemistry. Good luck “S”, and remember; everything RomComs tell you is a lie and they should all be burned.

A Blog About Nothing

God. There is nothing, as some of you know, that can put the fear of God into a person more than a blank piece of paper. These days for most of us that blank piece of paper has been replaced by the blank screen and the blinking cursor which, for some reason, is even more daunting. A blank piece of paper can be filled; it is finite. It has an end. If you fill up the entire front and entire back, that's all there is. And once you have filled that page, you have defeated it, defeated that small suddenly insignificant piece of used-to-be-tree. But on the computer screen, the word program is infinite. I suppose you could write a word document so enormously large that it would literally take up all of the space on your hard drive, but that is a bit unrealistic. Even if you just put a paperweight on the keyboard, it would be ages before you filled up a word document. And THAT is what is so scary. You cannot beat the page. You can only fill it and then, right there waiting for you is another bright, clean, empty screen. Taunting you, mocking you, daring you to come at it with everything you have. And if and when you do? There's another page. Like a Hydra, endlessly attacking you with space to be filled.

I have forgotten how to type. Not that I ever really was a good typist. Not even mediocre. I am using my two index fingers to type this, and am looking at the keyboard. I have typed this way since the first time I really had access to a computer, when I was 17 years old and a freshman at Penn State. That was 16 years ago, and I still type as well now as I did then. Skills plateau, I guess. I type fairly fast, but since I am looking at the keyboard I have no idea what I am typing, or if anything I am typing is being spelled correctly. Spell-check is my friend. It is a wonder anyone can spell anymore.

Typing is an issue, but writing had never been. I have always been a writer. Since the first time I started reading when I was 4 or 5 or whatever, I wanted to write. My mind was full of ideas, good ideas, great ideas I thought, and I thought that they should all be written. I would write, and people would read what I wrote and tell me that it was good, that I was talented. But I didn't believe them. I thought, rather oddly, that they had just never really read anything good, so what I wrote must have seemed great to them. It wasn't that I did not, or do not, believe that what I had written was good, I just... I'm not sure actually. I had the same problem with women actually. When I read things that I wrote years ago, things that I forgot that I had written, I always think “that was pretty damned good. I'm a great writer.” I have always been my biggest fan.

Women have loved me, and I have never, ever understood why. I have good traits to be sure, but enough to be loved? I never could logically figure out how a woman could fall IN LOVE with me. I'm a great guy and fun to be around, but love requires more I should think. I know each and every reason why I have been in love with the women I have been in love with. Some of those reasons were sick, twisted, and wrong, but at least I knew it. For some reason, I am incredibly and indelibly enamored with women who lacked, shall we say, sanity. Thankfully I only actually dated one such woman, but I often found myself chasing the craziest bitches you could imagine. Sluts, whores, bipolar-borderline personality types, cutters, criers, moody semi-psychotic females all had my constant attention. It did not help that the crazy girls where often the hottest ones. I think there is something about being beautiful that makes you crazy. And, as many people have observed, being crazy usually makes people pretty damned creative, or at the very least fun to be around at parties. Being Hot makes one fun to be around at parties as well, but it does not necessarily make one creative. Now if a girl was creative, sexy, and crazy? I was hopeless. If I were to be completely honest with myself, I am still hopeless. The only thing that stops me from still chasing crazy bitches like dogs going after cars is that I have the scars to remind me what happens when I catch them. Basically any time I got too close to a woman, well the effects were very similar to what happens when a dog catches the car; the car is fine but the dog ends up mangled. And boy have I been mangled.

Which is not to say that I am perfectly well myself. I am in fact crazy as well. The specifics of which are not important, but yeah I am crazy too. I think it is why I like crazy women, like really does attract like. Well, at least they attract me; I only attract them so much as they really like to be my friend. Which I suppose is fine, unless one really wants to have sex with someone who does not sleep with their friends. Then it is nothing but frustration. Sexual frustration is one of the worst types of frustration, other than vocational frustration. Sexual frustration is the hardest to truly satisfy because its satiation depends entirely on someone else. Some of us are much better at convincing others to have sex with us than I am. I am still, even at the age of 34, shocked when a girl agrees to have sex with me. I guess it's a great feeling. As a psychologist, I usually know what someone is going to do or say in any general situation, but I never, ever can figure out when a woman likes me until her hand is on my dick. Then I have a clue. One of my favorite moments in life is the very first time a woman spreads her legs for me. It is such a rapturously joyous occasion, I wish that Hallmark made cards to thank women for letting me see their vagina. It really is that great. Straight women and gay men are missing out. It's a little like... a little like when you're playing a video game, and you meet the one Boss character that whips your ass day in and day out for a week straight. Then finally, one fateful day, you figure out the proper strategy and you win the stage. Triumphant music plays; experience points are gained; gold is earned, and all is right with the world. Until you start the next stage that is.

I often wonder what it is like to feel sexy. I have no idea. This is no remnant of low self esteem that has stuck with me from my childhood, I honestly have never known what sexy is. I have felt confident, funny, powerful, in control, in charge, scary, neglectful, morose, intimidating, frightening, rageful... but never sexy. I mean, I think I know what sexy looks like, or at the very least I know what women generally find sexy and it never, ever looks like me. I know a lot of people find the Tyrese types sexy, and though I can match the skin-tone I am a far cry from the physique. Women think Ryan Gosling/Reynolds is sexy, but I'll never be able to be that white, at least not physically. People think David Tennent is sexy, but I will never, ever be that thin without losing some of my skeleton. Also, my hair will never do what his does, which is why I cry myself to sleep every night. I know that a couple of my girlfriends found me incredibly sexy, but it was through no fault of my own. I think that's what is most bothersome about the notion of sexiness for me, it's not a tangible thing I can work on and improve. It's easier for women, men are simple creatures. Find something good about your body and personality and accentuate it. My body and personality are constantly in flux, so what do I nail down and say it is exactly sexy? What do you do? What does anyone do? Sexiness, people tell me, is like being cool. The less you think about it the more you exemplify it. Is that true? Could it possibly be true?

I'm drinking. Not how you think though, it is a glass of V8 Splash, some kind of berry flavor. There is a shot of rum in it, but only one. I'm showing restraint. The words are flowing more freely now, more freely than they have in a while, but I am sure it has nothing to do with the sugar and food coloring and fermented whatever that constitutes rum. It is, more likely, because I can't think straight. ADD is wonderful for the creative process because it makes it impossible to not see an issue from every angle. Sometimes I think my greatest gift is being able to see a problem from many different points of view, a trait that people call empathy. I am quite empathetic. Too much so. In thinking of other peoples feelings I often neglect my own, and when I neglect my own feelings, they slink off into a corner and begin plotting malevolent selfish plans on their own. After that my subconscious convinces my waking mind to do something unspeakable under the pretense of helping, or sparing someones feeling. I really do understand all those sayings about doing evil in the name of good, sayings which often take the form of “the road to hell is paved with good intentions”, or some variation thereof. Considering the heathenish things I do fully aware of the ramifications, and the bad things I do in the name of good intentions, I am doubly destined for Hell, if there is such a thing. I gave up on being religious long ago. I knew myself, and I knew I would never live up to any religions standards of goodness.

So here we are, some of the pages of space and time filled up with thought. If you have read this far and are wondering “what is the point of all this”, I regret to inform you that there is no point. No, wait, there is; the point was to see if I could still write, if I was still capable of forming coherent thoughts and sentences and putting together something people would read. I have written down every thought that I had in the last two hours, and you, for some reason, read it. I find myself as curious about why you would read this as I am curious about why I wrote it. I am writing this to myself, and hope that when I read it it offers a little glimpse into the mind of the writer, and offers some understanding where before there was none.

The Roadrunner-Free Diet

If you are reading this you probably understand the relationship between the Roadrunner and the Coyote. If not, how the hell did you get to this blog anyway? I will explain, in any event, for those who are Warner Bros. Impaired. Wile E. Coyote spent the greater part of his existence chasing after the Roadrunner. He occasionally branched out from this pursuit in an attempt to steel fat sheep, but he was always stopped in those pursuits by the presence of a lackadaisical sheepdog named Sam. By and large Wile E. wanted that Roadrunner more than life itself, and he wasn't shy about it. Wile E. was a self proclaimed "Super Genius" and had an extremely high IQ. What made him look stupid, however, was his single-minded pursuance of the Roadrunner. No matter how ingenious his scheme, no matter how unlimited his credit with the ACME Corporation was, he could never corral that little bugger. If one really quantified the amount of resources, both time, effort, and monetary, that Wile E. sank into trying to capture and eat the Roadrunner, the effort would hardly seem worth it. With the time and money he put into acquiring the roadrunner, he could easily have had all of the finest foods in the world flown to his desert. He could have learned to become a master chef himself, becoming the greatest cook that the world has ever known. Bounty lay within his claws wherever he looked.
Yet he had to have this one bird. And what is it about this bird that is so alluring, so fascinating, that it is all that the Coyote hungers for? When one examines the Roadrunner, one does not see a particularly meaty bird. He does not seem juicy or succulent. The Roadrunner is portrayed as one of the fastest beings alive, and its musculature reflects that. The Roadrunner is lean, long, and built for speed. None of those traits suggest that it would make a delicious meal. If anything its meat would be extremely gamy from all of the activity and exercise it gets. All evidence points to the fact that the Roadrunner would not make a very good meal, and actually was quite flawed in this area. Yet and still the Coyote spent all of his energy and resources to catch it. What did Wile E. get for all of this effort?

Pain.

Ceaseless, boundless, unendurable pain. The very universe worked against him. The best laid schemes of Wile E. Coyote oft go awry. Gravity conspired against him and the laws of physics broke themselves to ensure his defeat. Objects float when they shouldn't and fall when they should fly. Fire burns according to it's own whims, and explosions are more explosive than usual. It would be one thing if these environmental accidents were random, but they are very one sided, and very much against Wile E. When the very elements of the universe would conspire against him, you would think that the Coyote would give up, but no, he presses on ever more. He bangs his head quite literally against a mountain, each time hoping for a different outcome while the Roadrunner “meep meeps” and zips away into the distance.
This is quite an accurate description of my love life for the last 22 years. I have spent my life since I was 10 years old, chasing Roadrunners. It wasn't so much that I only chased the girls that I could not have, it was more that I could never have the girls that I wanted. There were plenty of girls that I did not want, and they may have been interested in me, but I didn't know, didn't care. I was always very aware and very decisive about what birds I chased, and did so with great aplomb. Some birds kept my attention for a long time, some for only a day, but no matter what I was always chasing somebody. And the outcome of all of my chasing was very similar to that of the Coyote. I was always falling off of cliffs, crashing into mountains at ridiculously high speeds, or being blow up in any number of inventive ways. Of course I don't mean these things literally. I suffered these injuries as psychic assaults and wounds to my ego from hundreds and thousands of rejections from all of the Roadrunners I spent my life chasing. I first remember a bird catching my eye at the age of 10. I was in 5th grade and there was a 6th grader named Angela who I only saw on the playground. I didn't know why, but I would just stare at her the entire recess period, and I found myself lingering on the 6th graders side of the playground. I never chased her seriously, but she got the taste in my mouth. It wasn't until High School that I was in full Coyote mode. I reasoned that the better the trap the easier I could catch the bird. But instead of bird feed, I used romantic stories, Valentine's gifts, sweet words, sweeter acts, and every “friend-ly” act I had at my disposal to win women. And man could I attract them. I had so many female friends I didn't know what to do with them. I didn't know what to do with them because they wouldn't let me do what I wanted to do to them. I was constantly being diverted into brick walls of “friendship” or “I don't like you that way”. But did I give up? Did Wile E. Coyote ever give up? I bounced from Roadrunner to roadrunner, always chasing, never catching, but taking more and more damage all the time. It was this last point that I didn't understand until much later.
There were two points that I didn't understand until I was around 30. One was that every bird I chased was never as perfect or unique as I thought she was. She was always deeply flawed (like the Roadrunner) for my purposes, and never as unique as I thought she was. In fact, it wasn't until much later in life that I discovered really attractive women were a dime a dozen, and that really great personalities were in much shorter supply. My religious fervor in chasing women blinded me to their flaws, and in that blindness I treated them far better than I should have. That was always my first and biggest mistake. The second point that I realized entirely too late was that all the damage I took from Roadrunner chasing had left me completely bereft of self-esteem, which was in turn making it even harder for me to catch any girls. Very self-defeating cycle that is. By the time I was 27 I was dead, done; I had no self-esteem left and I was desperate. I had no defenses, but the assaults on my psyche kept coming. The boulders that fell on me, to continue the metaphor, got bigger and bigger, even after I held up my pathetic little sign that said “I Surrender”.
I would say the biggest, juiciest, and fastest Roadrunner I ever encountered was, well, I'll call her AZ. AZ was the worst for me because unlike the antagonist of Wile E. Coyote, AZ was just as devious and as much of a Genius as I was. The fact that she was so much like me was why I desired her so much. It is also why I had no chance of catching her. She would set traps for me and I would walk right into them. She wanted a game, I wanted to be caught. To this day I can't really be around her, because she destroys all of my mental defenses.
She was the one I wanted the most but not the most destructive. Lots of birds would fight for that title, Ceresa, Kia, Grace, AV, L and others who thankfully I can't remember now. New ones pop up all the time, each more perfect than the last, but in the end, like our friend the Roadrunner, they are never worth the amount of pain I go through to catch them. That's why I am now on the Roadrunner Free Diet. No more chasing birds for me. I can't have Carbs, refined Sugars, or Roadrunners. I am officially off of the market, for all the reasons seen above. I had an epiphany, recently, that if I took all the money and resources that I put into Acme Corp. and chasing roadrunners, and put it into bettering myself and focusing on school, I would probably be rich and famous by now. I have already seen some positive results from this new philosophy.
So to reiterate; no more rocket packs, no more flying outfits, no more painting tunnels on the sides of mountains, no more bird seed, no more giant magnets, and definitely no more dynamite. I'm sure life will throw some absolutely irresistible birds my way, but I will resist. I will stay focused, because I have bigger birds to fry, so to speak. This doesn't mean that I'm going to start to chase men, it just means that from now on, I have no romantic life. I can live without one, and frankly, having one hasn't ever done me more good than bad. So this is my version of the “Fabulously Single Project”. Let life come at me with whatever, but this Coyote, for once is focused on something other than chasing tail.

Like Urination for Precipitation

If you aren't familiar, there is a saying that goes something like “do not piss on my head and tell me that it is raining.” I am quite familiar with this situation because many times in my 3 decades of life I have had people unzip from above my head and subsequently warn me of coming thunderstorms. One of the most pernicious of these bamboozles is the “we can be friends” lie. For a man, and for most women, being put in the friend zone is the kiss of death; there is absolutely no worse fate than being banished, “It's a Good Life” style, to the Friend Zone. (If you don't get the reference, look it up; it's an excellent episode of the Twilight Zone). Like that episode, being banished to the Friend Zone is a cold, horrifying, soul-crushing event from which there is no return. When you have been sent there once your main goal in life is to never be banished there again. But I, for one reason or another, keep finding myself in that particular cornfield time and time again, each time through another hilariously convoluted series of events.

I believe that I have been sent to the cornfield more times than most, because I have a particular personality trait that predisposes me to leaving myself open to getting “rained” on. I have an impossible to ignore need to fix people. Now don't get me wrong; I'm no Mother Theresa/Jesus figure. I would say it’s more of an ego-syntonic drive to do what it is that I think I do best; resolve people's psychological issues. I think that most people like to do what they do best, and I am a very good psychologist, regardless of what people may say. There's another component to this tragedy that I am not sure if I have complete control over; I have a penchant for meeting women who have recently hit rock bottom in their lives. This is a big reason why I have to fix so many people, because I seem to find so many people who need fixing. I'm not talking abut women who just broke a nail, I'm talking about serious, life threatening issues. Most of the time. Sometimes they are just girls who happen to date the same type of homicidal jerks over and over again but most of the time they are women with legitimate problems in their lives that I have some sort of useful perspective on.

If this is just some random cosmic coincidence then I suppose I can't do much about it. I've tried fighting against the immutable laws of nature before, and have always come out the worse for it. I'm tired of beating my head against a wall of physics. Another, less fantastic hypothesis is that I am subconsciously attracted to “damaged” women, which is a common affliction amongst some men. I have written before about my ”Hero Complex” and how I have a inherent drive to save people. What if there is a part of me that, when there is no one around who is in any acute danger, seeks out women who are broken, damaged, or are in acute danger, and insinuate myself into their lives? What if there is a part of me that looks for emergencies so that I can “save the day” and be the hero? Ask yourself these questions if you have a similar pattern of behavior, especially if you often find yourself banished to the cornfields. There is a direct correlation between befriending damaged people and ending up in the friend zone.

What is this connection? Well, I'll tell you. One of those immutable laws of the universe I spoke of earlier is the he or she who fights the battle never lives to see the fruits of their labor. Despite what 80's movies and video games have told us, if you enter the Castle and fight the Dragon in order to save the princess, chances are in the real world that once you do risk your life and do all those acts of daring do, the princess will then immediately hook up with your unemployed stoner roommate. THAT, ladies and gentlemen, is reality. I have learned that whenever I fix someone, they inevitably run out and sleep with/fall in love with the first person they see that isn't me. I have heard stories from several men and women confirming this from their own experience as well. They have had cases where they have helped people to stop drinking, stop doing drugs, stop dating abusive men, stop dating crazy women, get jobs, go back to school, graduate school, etc. and when they finally help this person achieve their goal, they, as Kanye West said “leave they ass for a White girl”.

What I mean by that is whenever you put your heart and soul into helping someone out in life, the chances are good that when they reach that goal they will leave you for someone else, that is, if they were ever with you in the first place. Only very strong relationships don't break up when one person experiences a large change in life/status such as going from dug user to sober, or from having low self esteem to being a fully self reliant individual. The worst part of the banishing procedure is that the person who does it usually tries to convince you that it's a good thing, which is where the great lie about being rained on begins. Rodgers and Hammerstein could not compose a greater song and dance than these people do when they try to explain to you why the fact that they are essentially ditching you now that they are “better” and giving all their goodies to a complete stranger who had nothing to do with their recovery is, in fact, a positive experience for you. Some of them think that you should even be thanking them for it. They are effusive with their thankfulness. Here is an actual text I received in this situation;

“I adore you, you know that. Just not in the way you want me to. Anyway I think you're amazing and awesome and I hate that now things are probably going to be weird between you and I. I hate to lose you. You're the only guy who I've talked to consistently for a year. And I think that's because we never hooked up.”

And this, this is the part where the trickle of piss becomes a downpour;

“You should be happy, I let you in where other guys never get to go.”

Apparently that place she let me in is everywhere but her vagina. The crazy part is that this is maybe the 20 or 30^th time I've heard this speech in my life. I have the unfortunate luck to encounter women who believe that they can only sleep with men who don't care about them, and who they can't care about in return. This is, of course, lunacy. But a surprising number of women think this way. By the way, the above quotes are not doctored or taken out of context in any way. It took me a long time to realize that telling me it's a good thing that “I'm too special to sleep with” is not a good thing. It's piss disguised as rain. It's a sham, and after 3 decades I'm finally learning to grab an umbrella and step out of it. If you care about someone, and they are special to you, you should give them the greatest gift you can, which isn't “friendship”. Besides, what these people consider friendship isn't that, because the relationship is never even. The person doing the fixing never receives the same services in return. That person can never depend on the person they fixed for emotional support. The damaged person, by definition, cannot be a good friend because if they could they would probably possess other life skills that would have prevented them from becoming damaged in the first place. They are inherently selfish, and never ask about the “fixer's” problems. Therefore, the fixer is more of a tool to be used when needed than a true friend. In what way is this a tenable position for anyone? A true friendship is reciprocal, and these relationships are strictly one way. The friend zone is a lonely place, and no one ever has sex there.

So, if you are the type to be a “fixer” and you feel some trickles coming from the sky, ask yourself is this really rain I'm feeling, or something else entirely?

The Most Colorful Game

A young man was killed in Hartford, Connecticut on Sunday morning. Unfortunately, this is not an unusual occurrence, as Hartford doesn’t seem to be a place bereft of crime. What is truly unfortunate is that sometimes no matter how much a young Black man tries to do the right thing, he can still become the victim of random-bullshit-petty-violence that takes his life. It may sound cliché at this point, but most concepts become cliché because they are so ubiquitous as to become a rhetorically accepted fact. The concept I am talking about is that of the poor Black kid in the ghetto who has some athletic ability and tries to use it to pull himself and his family out of the endless cycle of violence that traps so many in America’s inner cities. It may be cliché, but it is a stone-cold fact for many kids in the ‘hood that Football or Basketball are their only perceived ways of being somebody in the world… well, that or hip-hop. The worst part is that even when these kids make it, achieve their dream and get scholarships to a big-time College, their past still haunts them. They leave the ‘hood, but the ‘hood never leaves them. Jasper Howard wasn’t even from Connecticut, he was from Miami, FL, and still the violence that has claimed the lives of so many young Black men claimed his as well. And, like I said, as far as we know he was trying to do the right thing. So what do we learn from this? No matter how hard or how fast someone runs between the lines, they can never escape what they are, their Color.

This season the NFL has been celebrating the 50th anniversary of the AFL, what is now the AFC. In honor of that there have been a multitude of “Throwback” games when two AFC foes face each other, resulting in some rather colorful uniform displays. Starting with the Bright Orange stripes of the referees, I believe that I have seen every color in the visible Electromagnetic Spectrum, and some that aren’t (I’m pretty sure the Seahawks have used some Ultraviolet Colors in their alternate Uni’s). I, personally, have enjoyed the hell out of this season’s throwbacks, my favorites being the Oilers and Broncos (yes the Brown and Gold). Unfortunately my absolute favorite throwback Uni, the Tangerine of the Tampa Bay Bucs, will not be on display as they are a NFC team *sigh*. I guess I’ll live. Even with all the flashes of color one thing unfortunately seems to remain the same; the inescapable fact that the most important color on the field isn’t the green of the grass, or the hue of the uniform, but the tone of the skin of the player.

This has always been true, and it still is true. In 1958 the University of Buffalo football team was invited to it’s one and only Bowl game in its school history (before or since). It was the Tangerine Bowl, to be played in Orlando, FL against the Florida State Gators. Buffalo had two Black players on their team, and the school was informed that one of the stipulations of playing in the Bowl Game was that Buffalo’s Black players had to stay home; the Orlando High School Athletic Association did not allow Black players to play with White players. This was not an isolated rule either; it was a pretty common practice in The South for a long time. Common, of course, until the segregated schools realized that they could not beat teams that had Black players. Then the urge to win overcame racism, as it often does. This is why Sports so often overcomes racism, because even the most strident racist bastard can overlook his hatred for 4 quarters.

This being the case, sports have brought down a lot of racial divides, while simultaneously putting them on display for the world to see. There has long been a belief that Black’s could never successfully play the QB position because we just aren’t smart enough. This perception is still around; there are very few Black QB’s who aren’t also known for their running ability. Warren Moon, the only Black QB in the Football Hall of Fame, had to go to Canada to play when he graduated from college because no team in the NFL would draft him as a QB, despite being named MVP of the 1978 Rose Bowl. After passing for over 3000 yards for 4 straight years in the Canadian Football League, Moon finally was taken seriously as a QB, and after a sizeable bidding war signed with the Houston Oilers. To date, only one Black QB has started and won a Super Bowl, further adding to this perception. And then there was the Limbaugh/McNabb debacle…

Rush Limbaugh, briefly, worked for ESPN doing color commentary on the NFL. He genuinely has a love for football, and in my opinion was an interesting addition to the show. His football analysis was actually very good, and he did not seem that out of place for someone who had no real connection to the sport other than as a fan. But alas, eventually the real Rush came out when he said that the Media wanted Donovan McNabb to succeed only because he was a Black QB. Now at the time, and even today, I did not think what he said was really that terrible. In fact I may have even agreed a little. Regardless of the fact that I hate the Eagles, I thought that Limbaugh’s statement, in and of itself, was an observation and nothing more. The problem is in the context of everything Rush has said before and since regarding race, he cannot say things like that and expect it to be glossed over. He has said some things that quite frankly make him the world’s biggest asshole, and he cannot possibly be naïve enough to think that what he does for a living would have no bearing on whether he was allowed to be part of an industry as image-conscious as the NFL is. Add to that the target of most of his vitriol happens to be African-Americans, who obviously had a problem with him becoming an owner as well, and yes, Rush was Rushed out of the group trying to buy the St. Louis Rams.

I am an ardent believer in our First Amendment right to Free Speech, but what most people fail to realize is that when you say whatever the Hell you want to, there are consequences to those actions. Rush Limbaugh just experienced some of those consequences. In his world, he is never held accountable for his actions, but in the real world, people hate him and are angry about what he says. Sports are the great equalizer, where it’s about Colors, yes, but what rules above all is CAN YOU HELP US WIN. Because of that, over the decades racial barriers have been broken down both on the field and off. Ultimately, Rush was not going to help the Rams improve as an organization, as many players voiced that they would not play for a team that he was a part of, meaning that his presence would hurt the team in the WIN/LOSS column. Period. That’s why he was dropped from the group. I love my Colorful NFL World for just that reason. Now, where can I buy one of those Gold and Brown Broncos Unis?

The Unbearable Triteness of Beings

Let me start off by saying this.

I. Hate. Pink.

I always have. I don’t think there is anything good about her or what she does. Most of my distaste for her comes from the fact that she is just too damn ugly to be famous. I mean, I know plenty of attractive girls who deserve to be famous way more than Pink does. She’s just awful in the facial area. She looks as if a blind impressionist sculpted her visage. I disapprove of her and most of the things that come out of her mouth. Many of her “songs” seem to consist of yelling and pandering to tired fake-feminist themes that are guaranteed to sell because hey, who doesn’t like being angry and yelling about being spurned by stupid ex-boyfriends huh? Really, she’s the worst kind of garbage because she has absolutely no basis for having a justifiable opinion on anything, yet she feels the need to share her ill-informed and irrational opinions with everyone in the fucking world. Literally, she is a global cancer in this sense, harassing people in the United States, United Kingdom, and Australia. Her most passionate cause is animal rights, but unlike most animal rights activists she actually does other charity work for humans, and for this I must give her at least a little credit. She hasn’t abandoned her (presumed) race for another species, even though she obviously shares more DNA with a canid or, say, an orangutan than another Human Being.

One of the reasons that this chick gets to me so much, is that she likes to lay into people that I like, namely Beyonce and Kanye West. She had a thing against Kanye previous to the events of last weekend because he wears fur. Well guess what you half-chick, Cam’ron wears fur too, why don’t you go after him huh? Call him a piece of shit? Oh I know why, because Cam’ron and Dip Set will actually have her ass kidnapped in a basement in Harlem, never to be seen again. The point of the matter being that Pink only goes after “soft targets” like Beyonce and Prince William. Kanye, for all of his ego, is not and never has been a thug type of guy. He’s just not the beef-type who responds to perceived slights through diss-records and carries out vendettas through the media, no matter what people say about him. As jackass-ish as what he did was, you cannot say that he has ever made a personal attack against Taylor Swift or anyone, save maybe for George Bush, who really deserved it. The evidence is clear; for all of the many and varied insults she has hurled at him, he has said nothing in return. For what it’s worth, neither has Beyonce. I suspect though that Beyonce could care less about Pink, seeing as how B far outclasses Pink in virtually any and every category of measurable success one could think of.

I admit freely that I am biased towards Kanye, in fact I have stated many times that I am his biggest fan, in much the same way that “Stan” was Eminem’s biggest fan From an objective point of view however, the reaction to this event is all wrong. For one thing, Kanye interrupted someone else’s speech, did not insult her, and just said that B should have one. Now, upon further examination, it is no secret that Kanye looks up to Jay-Z like his big brother, so by extension it would make sense that he sees Beyonce as a big sister or at the very least sister in law. Who among you wouldn’t stand up and make a fuss if you felt that your beloved sister had been cheated? Wouldn’t you do it, especially if you were drunk and already prone to speaking your mind… no matter if it is appropriate or not… in any and all situations?
Secondly, and I won’t talk about this too much, but the man’s mother died 2 years ago, and let’s just say that it is still effecting him. Kanye was not exactly the most emotionally stable guy beforehand, and to lose such a central figure in his life, in fact, the central figure in his life so suddenly and unexpectedly sent him into a tailspin that he never has adequately dealt with. He admitted what I already knew, that he didn’t take any time off from working to adequately grieve, and all of that pain is going to come out somewhere at sometime. Believe me; I know this much is true.

Lastly, NONE OF THIS is as big of a deal as people are making it out to be. It seems to have sparked a national debate about whether manners are dead and about how Kanye is the rudest man ever. This of, course, is racist. I know people will say that I‘m full of it, but do you honestly think this would have gotten the same coverage if Kanye had done it to Ciara at the BET awards? Would you even have heard of it? You and I both know that the answer to that is no. I’m not entirely sure who Taylor Swift is or what she does, but I know what she looks like, and based on the fact that she is 17, and Beyonce is, well, B, I’m pretty sure that she has no business winning an award over B. That being said, she did win, and it is not the first time, nor will it be the last time some blond-eyed blue-haired girl wins an award over someone darker and more deserving.

What really burns me bout all of this is the public outrage. Much like the Michael Vick situation, people are showing much more anger and venom here than they do when actual human lives are threatened. I will never forget what happened in New Orleans, to me, it is just as horrible as 9/11, and that is why I consider Bush and his administration to be just as bad as those terrorists. They are just as responsible for the loss of several thousand American lives as Al Quaeda is. But I digress… the outrage over Katrina seemed muted and, let’s say, relegated to specific portions of the populace. The outrage over one entertainer embarrassing another has been far more vitriolic and incendiary. Once again, our priorities as a nation seem to be horribly skewed, and that is what makes me so angry. It seems like the most ignorant and ill-informed members of society feel the need to share their opinions in public forums the most often, which of course is why I started my blog. Pink firmly falls in the category of ignorant, ill-informed, and ugly. Sorry, I just can’t get over how hideous she is for a pop-star. I mean really, who dropped the ball there?

The White Girl Dance, Sex Offenders, Disney, etc…

It’s been a long time, I know, but yer boy is back, and I have a lot on my mind. For one thing, Disney bought Marvel. This isn’t exactly a surprise if you really think about it, and it may turn out to be a good thing in some ways. Warner Bros. and DC have had an agreement for years now that has worked out really well for them. All DC characters have had movies made by Warner Bros., which has resulted in a pretty standard level of consistency across all of their films. At least in terms of production values, DC movies have all been decent. It is a trait that Marvel movies, let’s just say, lack. Marvel movies vary wildly in terms of quality, actors, and production values, and with this merger that may change. Also, the major advantage is that different characters can be used in different movies with ease. DC could easily do a Batman/Superman movie because WB has the rights to both characters, but prior to today there could be no Human Torch/Spiderman interaction because different studios did their movies. Well, they could do a Barman/Superman movie if they could un-fuck themselves and get on with it, but that’s another rant for another day. Let’s face it; Disney has a shit-ton of money that they can put behind any of their movies. They could even get better people to write/direct all of the Marvel movies, so there won’t be such a disparity between oh, say, Daredevil and Elektra and Spider-Man and Iron Man. Of course, the negative side is that Disney is Disney, and the darker titles like Deadpool and Punisher are going to be sanitized, much to the dismay of all. But you all do not need to be too worried about that, because if I see it happen I will burn Disney to the ground with all of its employees inside. I think that’s fair, right?

Which brings me to Sex Offenders… what, that isn’t a normal transition for you? Well, this post isn’t going to be smooth, it’s going to be more like a taxi ride in Manhattan, so get used to it. Now where was I… oh yeah, Child Molesters. So, it seems that people have their panties in a bunch about sex offenders in general, and pedophiles and child molesters in specific. They are scared to death that “those people” will move in next to them, and menace their children, abduct them in the night like some kiddy-touching vampires, and abscond with them under cover of darkness. Well, that just ain’t the case. What I am about to say isn’t meant to alarm you, but in fact is meant to get you to protect your family in the most effective manner possible.

First of all, most kids who are molested are assaulted by people they, or you, know. So if all of these strangers you see on maps of sex offenders scare you, you actually should be more worried about the people you know who show an unusual interest in your children because, let’s face it, no one really LIKES your kids. You LOVE your kids, but let’s be real here, you don’t really like your kids. So do you think other people can tolerate the sub-human ankle-biters? I mean, they may think they are cute, they may like to play with them, they may even enjoy your kids company somewhat, but at the end of the day most people cannot wait to getaway from your little buggers. The great thing about other people’s kids are that they are OTHER PEOPLE’S KIDS, and that when they need changing, or start crying, or start throwing ketchup on your brand new Ferragamo shoes, you can send those little f’ers right back to their parents and leave. That’s how the world works.

Child molesters and pedophiles want to stick around your kids and baby-sit even when they are colicky, or saucy, or nasty, or sick, or irreverent, or just plain being little pricks. That’s when you should be cautious, that’s when your Spider-Sense should be tingling. There are people who genuinely like kids and want to help them, but it is my assertion that everyone gets tired of kids eventually, and, given the choice, they would rather be doing something involving lubrication and nudity with another adult (or two) than be around kids. So, people, don’t worry about the sex offenders that have been caught, they are probably under surveillance: wonder about the one’s who haven’t been caught, the one’s that are not on the website… the ones you are related to, the friends of the family… In fact, just be aware of who the fuck is in your life. Megan’s law isn’t going to save your children, you are.

In the past few years, maybe I’ll say… ten; there has been a radical evolution in the White Woman… two in fact. One mutation has been the evolution of the white girl’s ass. Where previously the white girl’s ass was as wide and flat as the great plains of Montana, now you can find them with big, full bubble butts. Now granted, when I say “them” I mostly mean Italian girls, but there are exceptions. Every now and then you’ll find a Greek or Polish girl with a phatty that you just can’t ignore, but by and large, it’s the Italian girls who bring all the Black and Brown guys to the yard.

The more amazing evolution, however, has been the slow but steady ability of some white girls to be able to dance. And I don’t mean just move to the beat, I mean actually shake it like a saltshaker. Really, some of these chicks have rhythm, can move their hips, drop it like it’s hawt, the whole nine. It is really something to see. Now, this is, by no means a universal phenomenon. There are still white girls who seem to learn how to dance by studying old tapes of Elaine Benes from Seinfeld. I just cannot dance with those girls, as much as I would like to. People have to be in sync to dance together, in my opinion, and dancing with a girl who can’t ride da riddim, so to speak, is like trying to break a bucking bronco. It may sound fun hypothetically, but in practice it is in no way erotic. But that is not who we are talking about here, we are talking about those rare white girls who seem to have grown up Black and work a dance floor like they work a pole on weekends. I salute these women and wish that they would share their gifts and abilities with their Caucasian sisters. Problem is, a lot of those girls actually do work a pole… either a dance pole or… in another sense of the word… Really, if a few girls who can dance like this is good, than more are better, right? As long as you girls are at it, I will, free of charge, offer my services to dance with you. Nobody wants to dance alone right? Even Whitney Houston wanted to dance with somebody. Come one, come all, and trip the light fantastic with me, my Ivory Skinned Nymphs… you won’t regret it.

Living a Life of Raucous Desperation

Most of us;



Many of us;



Live lives of quiet desperation.



At some point in our lives we are deathly, quietly afraid. Terrified of life. Of something in it anyway. We are anxious and fearful. I know it and you know it, those of you reading this right now and thinking of that thing that you are quietly (or vocally) afraid of are going to follow this a little easier than those of you who are denying it. And I know there are those of you who are denying it. Nothing, never, evermore, you say, have I ever feared. Nothing, you say, to the point of terror, and never to anything you would call "quiet desperation".

To you I say, "you’re good". You are the best liar of all, because the best lies are the ones you tell to yourself. We are all afraid of something, unless you have faced that fear… and you would know if you had because you will have that little episode marked down on your little mental Facebook calendar as "The worst fucking time of my life". Those of us who have had to face down our worst fears are never the same after it. Sometimes we are better, sometimes we are worse, but we are never the same.

When this happened to me, I wasn’t the same. Actually it happened to me three times. I had to endure facing my three worst fears… and as my Grandfather would say, I lived. I am still here… but changed. I am no longer living a life of quiet desperation, I am living a life of cacophonous desperation. I am desperate to be myself. For many years of my life I have molded who I was to be somebody for someone else. I made myself into everyone’s Doll, hoping that they’d buy me and take me home.

But when my "Happening"... uh… happened, it let loose the real me. And it turns out the real me is a Force of Nature, something like a Phenomenon, with all the destructive force of a Hurricane. And since I have made this little discovery I have spent countless amounts of mental energy trying to contain myself, trying to NOT be who I am, because people apparently couldn’t take the intensity. Or that’s how I perceived the state of affairs to be. Maybe I was right, maybe I was wrong. But that is certainly what it felt like. These days I often feel like there’s a caged starved, half-crazed wolf in my head trying to break out and I have to keep it caged and starved and crazed because… because…



Because… why exactly? Why indeed?



No more. I’m letting it free. I’m letting the Hurricane free to wreak havoc. I in short, am going to start being myself.



God help us all.



And for all of you who are also living lives of Quiet (or vocal) desperation, please write me, I will show you how to let your beast lose. We need more people to be real, to be themselves… to be Forces of Nature.

Flip 'n Fold F'in Fantastic!

http://www.flipfold.com


If there is one thing you should know about me, is that I fuckin love my flip-fold table. It's the only reason I fold any of my clothes. I don't know how I lived without it. No longer are flip fold tables solely purveyed to large stores that sell clothes; now the regular man and woman can own one of these magical devices. I have owned one for quite a while now, and have been on their mailing list for just as long. They sometimes send me comforting emails to let me know what is going on with their magical company. I have just received a new one to let me know about other products available from this company that should be put at the forefront of American Technologies. "The Ultimate Folding Tool" offers much more than just the Flip Fold table. You must go to their website to see all of the other products these people, from the goodness and genius of their hearts and minds, provide to us. What they do, yes they do get paid for, but that is not why these people work for the Ultimate Folding Tool. No, they do their work out of love, and out of a sense of duty to Humanity. Visit that site and tell me that I am wrong. See if it is possible. And no, they do not pay me to say this; what I say here I also say out of love; love for my flip-fold table.

Go Team Venture!

Last year’s Comic Con had many high points for me, but the high point for most people was the "Venture Bros." panel. Occupying a full size ballroom, it was standing room only to see the people responsible for Adult Swim’s most popular series currently. The room was packed with fans, some in costume to see the series creator and voice of Hank Venture, Chris McCullough, James Urbaniak (Dr Venture), Michael Sinterniklaas (Dean Venture), and Doc Hammer (Dr Girlfriend (!)). I was there to cover the Con, but I was really there as a fan more than anything. I love Venture Bros. Because I used to watch Johnny Quest religiously as a kid and teenager. When I would think back on the show I would think about how odd it was that these two kids (Johnny Quest and Hadji) where constantly being thrown into life-threatening situations and saw more than their fare share of men die at the tender ages of 15 or however old they were. I am pretty sure they even killed some people themselves. It all made me wonder, what the hell were these kids going to be like when they grew up? Actually, Johnny Quest left me with a lot of questions, some of which I probably think of waaay too much…

But that’s neither here nor there. I believe that the people who appreciate Venture Bros. the most are the ones who grew up watching the cartoons and action TV shows that VB takes many of it’s references from. The plot is hysterical in and of itself, but it’s the pop culture references that put the entertainment value of the show over the top. That is not to say that you have to get the references to find the show entertaining, I just think that is how one gets the most out of the show. The strength of the show is in the writing; VB has some of the wittiest, smartest, most natural sounding writing on television. It’s the writing that attracts fans who are not familiar with the references and the source material for the show. I have personally enslaved many of my friends to the show by simply exposing them to one or two episodes that they never would have watched on their own. Once they were taken in by the unparalleled humor of the show, they were hooked.

The best part about the Venture Bros. experience was that the people responsible for making the show are just as funny as the show they produce. The ease with which they interact with each other translates well to the screen. Watching the Venture Bros. panel was very much like watching the show itself. The personalities of the writers and the actors clearly shine through in the finished product; it is a good thing that they have such amazing personalities to do the show. Fortunately for everyone in attendance, a great show makes for a great panel, and the crowd was in stitches for much of the way-too-short time we had with the principle players. They showed a preview of Season Two, which had everyone in attendance foaming at the mouth to see it. At this date Season Two has aired, and it was well worth the wait, living up to the hype built around it at last year’s Con. The best part of the panel was that outside of the panel you could find people like Doc Hammer and James Urbaniak wandering around the Convention floor just like anybody else. Just saying, the same could not be said of Seth Green. Anyway, this year Doc Hammer and Jackson Publick will be at the Con as Special Guests. If this article has sparked any interest in Venture Bros. For you, or if you already a fan, it is well worth it to seek out their company this year. I know I will.

The Ultimate Battle

Ok here's the deal. We have a Zombie outbreak that spreads Rapidly, and these zombies are strong and fast, and able to spread their Zombie-ness through bites. At the same time a large number of Velociraptors (nee Deinonychus) Escape from Jurassic park to the mainland, and start laying eggs. ALSO at the same time, a huge number of T-100 Terminators armed with laser blasters teleport back from the future with laser blasters to start the Robot Holocaust early. And finally, at the same time the First class of Space Marines is commissioned, complete with all of their hardcore weaponry (think Aliens) and they are deployed across Earth and Space to deal with all of these threats to humanity.



The Zombies are spreading, and the Raptors are breeding. Also, the Terminators picked up the Borg trick of creating Cyborgs, and can "assimilate" living humans. The Zombies can Zombify the Raptors and the humans. No one is sure if the Cyborgs can be zombified, or if Zombies can be assimilated. Apparently, Zombie Raptors can still heal. Space marines have all of the firepower in the universe at their disposal, and can pretty much destroy anything fairly quickly. Also, more classes of Space marines are graduating every month. So I ask you; who wins? Oh, and all sides start with even numbers.

7 Whole Days

So, after tomorrow I have 7 whole days off to myself. What should I do? Road Trip? Does anybody want me to come and visit them? I'm open to ideas, it's 106 miles to wherever I wanna go, I got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark, and I'm wearing sunglasses.

Let's Hit It.

Givings and Thanks

I'm finally full, and a little bit buzzed, so it's time to write about what it is that I am Thankful for.

I am thankful for Life. That I have Life, which leads me to the first person I am thankful for, Deb. It is Deb who is most of the reason I am still here to be able to write this at all. So if anything I have done in the last year has at all offended you or pissed you off, blame her. She's the one who saved my life, more or less. It's Deb who has gave me the most when she did not always have anything to give, and for which I will be eternally grateful.

Then there are the usual gang of Idiots, Frank, Ahmed, Benny and Kurt. The guys who always gave me the good advice that I just didn't take, and who would have thought it figured?

Ok, no more Alanis. But every time I had some great revelation this year I realized it was something one of you had already told me. There is a saying about horses and water that I believe is applicable here. But I am still thankful for them, even though I don't listen to what they say... eventually the message gets through.

Then there is the person who gave me the impetus, the motivation if you will, to get better and to stay better. Lauren, this Bud's for you. Or rather, this Cupcake's for you. Oh who am I kidding, whatever Lola wants, Lola gets right? But seriously, just because I was convinced that I needed to live, didn't mean I had a reason to live for. I have that now, and I found it because of you, so thanks for that.

And there are so many other people that I am thankful for; Tamicka, Kei-Chan, Tashana, Emily, Ari, Muse, Sarita and a lot of other people that I have met through the year that have just given me faith that all people aren't assholes...

I am thankful for my family, thankful that my brother is everything I wasn't in College; Respected, Attractive, in Fantastic shape, Popular, and a Star Athlete. I'm thankful that I finally went to my mother's grave.

I'm thankful that I didn't die in a Walmart yesterday. I'm thankful for everyone that knows I love them but I didn't mention. If you want me to verify, ask me. I'll surely tell you if you're as is wrong or not. for instance "Fuck no I don't love or appreciate you, and I DAMN SURE AIN'T THANKFUL FOR YOU. GO FUCK OFF, WANKER!" That maybe my response. One never knows.

But chances are if you are in my life now I am grateful for you and love you. So I hope your Thanksgivings were great, and I hope you're Decembers are fantastic! OK, I'm finally sleepy. If you have a problem with not being mentioned, write me an angry letter or shoot me; either way I'll get the message.

That One

That One

An Exit Eleven Remix

(to the tune of “No One” by Alicia Keys)

I want you to know

He only wants the House for 8 more years

Then you can try

Again to get it with no fears

You and him together

Campaigned day and night

But I didn’t worry cuz

Everything’s fucked up on the Right

That one, that one, that one

Got in the way of you being President

That one, that one, that one

Kept your old ass out of the White House, House, House

Kept your ass out of the White House

When McCain was shouting you down

And your Polls were suffering

Michelle was always around

Even when winning was uncertain

You and Joe together

Campaigned day and night

But I never worried cuz

Bush fucked up the whole Right

That one, that one, that one

Stopped McCain from being President

That one, that one, that one

Kept Palin’s dumb ass out of the White House, House, House

Kept her stupid MILF ass out of the Whit House

I know you fought halfway across the world

To protect our rights that we have here

I know you think you’re so smart and that he’s so not

But at this point in time there’s no one better for us

That one, that one, that one

Stopped you from being President

That one, that one, that one

Stopped Cain ‘n Palin from screwing us some more, more, more

Stopped the GOP from screwing us some more

O’ O’ O’ O’ Oooooo’, O’ O’ O’ O’ Oooooo’, O’ O’ O’ O’ O’-O, O-O, O-O, BA, MAAAA

O’ O’ O’ O’ Oooooo’, O’ O’ O’ O’ Oooooo’, O’ O’ O’ O’ O’-O, O-O, O-O, BA, MAAAA

Getting to Knooow Me

A - Age: Thirty

B - Band listening to right now: right now, as in "now playing": Aaliyah, "Back and Forth". right now as in "in general": T.I., Lil Wayne, Weezer, Oasis, The Police.

C - Career future: Going back to John Jay College to get my Masters in Forensic Counseling Psychology so that I can get my L.P.C.

D - Dad's name: I don't remember.

E - Easiest person to talk to: Other psychologists and/or Sagittarius

F - Favorite type of shoe: Timbs

G – Grapes or Grapefruit: grapes. Grapefruit Juice

H – Hometown: Iselin, New Jersey Exits 11 or 131.

I – Instrumental talent: i can play the piano, but i haven't in a while. i bought a guitar back in august and have yet to touch it. i played the clarinet from 3rd grade until 10th grade.

J – Juice of choice: The one with all of the Vodka in it. That is, whichever juice has vodka in it at the time is my favorite juice.

K – Koala Bear or Panda Bear: polar bears.

L - Longest car ride ever: 12 hours to Atlanta. twice. Second place is 10 hours to Lexington, KY for a lesbian wedding.

M – Middle name: William

N - Number of jobs you've had: hm. let's think about this.

I first worked at Pathmark pushing carts. Then they brought me inside to the Dairy, then I spent a good long while in the Produce aisle. Then they decided I wasn't doing well there so they moved me to the registers as punishment, which I hated, so I did a crappy job.

Then came Stern's which was alternately fun and frustratimng. Especially fruustrating when they closed it and turned it into Macy's which sucked. I worked three Holiday seasons in Woodbridge Center Mall, which is akin to doing three tours in 'nam. Never again.

Then there was being a Community Serviice Officer at RU, which is a fancy name for student security. It was cool though, I got to work all the home football games my last year, which was actually pretty fun. Then I got my first real job working as a Case Manager fopr mentally ill people in a residential home, did that for a few years, got promoted to Site Manager, which was cool because I got to be tha Boss.

Then I became a Mental Health Screener, and I have been doing that ever since. First I did it in the Screening center for Middlesex County at UMDNJ in Piscataway, now I do it in Essex County Prison. Fun times, I tell ya.

O- OCD traits: Um... none really... I'm kind of an agent of Chaos.

P - Phobia[s]: I have fears, but no real phobias. Nothing that would actiually give me a panic attack.

Q - Quote: "What did I do now?"

R - Reason to smile: being alive. that's sort of all encompassing now, isn't it?

S - Song you sang last: "Don't Disturb This Groove" The System

T - Time you wake up: between 12-1 pm

U - Unknown fact about me: On three occasions I have considered being Poly, but neither time did it happen.

V - Vegetable you hate: beans, especially the big pale green ones. yuck. Though technically I guess those are legumes...

W - Worst habit: I unintentionally hurt others feelings and don't realize it till it's too late

X - X-rays you've had: CAT scan and teeth

Y - Yummiest food my belly likes: Lasagna and mac and cheese, both from my family

Z - Zodiac sign: Sagittarius

And I Am Outta Here!

Toxic Avenger: the Musical

There is good, there is great, and then there is Toxic Avenger the Musical, now playing at the George St. Playhouse in New Brunswick, NJ. Now, I am not usually one prone to hyperbole, but I am going to give it a shot here. This is by far the funniest play that I have ever seen. Not that I have been to see too many funny plays. In fact, the only other one I can think of is I Love You, You’re Perfect, Now Change I actually really liked that play, which is a musical as well, which may explain why I loved Toxic Avenger so much. Joe DiPietro wrote the book and lyrics to both. Apparently I am now a huge Joe DiPietro fan. He really knows his material, as he was born and raised off of Exit 166 of the Parkway (that’s way up North, damn!)

The biggest strength of this program is in its lyrics. The songs are exceptionally humorous and moving, and sang exceptionally well. Good material well executed is usually a reliable formula for success. The music and lyrics were done by David Bryan. Who’s that you say? Well, he’s only the keyboardist and founding member of Bon Jovi! If that is not enough reason for you to get your ass to New Brunswick and see this damn play I don’t know what else to tell you… Oh wait, yes I do, it’s in the following paragraphs. Do you really need to know the pedigree of Bon -120+ million albums sold to date-Jovi? OK, now that we’re all on the same page about Mr Bryan, I can tell you that his musical expertise is on full display in Toxic Avenger. There is a wide variety of musical styles sung in the different songs, and even a sly takeoff of The Boss on a couple of occasions. There are at least two tangos, which I was not expecting, and a decent amount of all-out old-fashioned Rock. These two NJ pieces fall together perfectly to produce a musical score that you are guaranteed to be humming all the way home. And now to get a little more specific about the subject matter.

For those of you who don’t know (and shame on you) this musical is an interpretation of the four Toxic Avenger movies all made by the infamous Troma Studios, where all truly great Bad Movies are made. In the original movie Melvin, our hero, is a 90 lb weakling who gets bullied to the point where his tormentors feel it appropriate to dump him in a vat of toxic waste. Now, rather than kill him like it should, it turns him into a giant, green, mutated superhero. Similar circumstances happen in the Musical, for different reasons (go see the damn thing for specifics!) but the outcome is the same; giant green freak runs amok in the name of justice and love. Yes, Love dammit! If there is one positive message everyone can take away from this play, it’s that if a Big Green Freak can find Hot Toxic Love, then you can too. And if not, then Everybody Dies anyway, so you can comfort yourself with the fact that whoever Tore Your Heart Out will die eventually too. The most impressive thing about Toxic Avenger the Musical is that there are about 15+ characters represented in the entire story, only 5 actors, and no intermission. One thing is for certain, if you want to be an actor in this play, you have to be in shape, because there are no breaks or time outs. Everyone is in action all of the time.

The cast is charged not only with keeping up this hectic pace, but also with doing justice to the wonderful songs and lyrics that they have been provided with by DiPietro and Bryan. As with every other challenge put before them, the Cast faces down this challenge and rips its guts out. Audra Blaser (Sarah) has great range, and proves it by singing a variety of songs throughout the story. She hits high notes and low, and even puts a good bit of soul in her voice for a little white girl. Nick Cordero doesn’t have as much range as the Toxic Avenger, but all he has to do is mutilate people and Rock Out, which he does admirably, so it’s all good. Demond Green (Black Dude) and David Josefsberg (White Dude) pull double duty, literally, having to sing as men and women. And the damndest thing is they pull of both sexes very convincingly. I have to say thought, I could have gone without seeing them in Tina Turner style Vegas gowns, but maybe that’s just me. And Nancy Opel does perhaps the hardest bit of all, singing one song as two different people. The performances really are not to be believed. I mean, this play should be seen just to marvel at the actors’ endurance.

I really cannot say enough about the play, but I want you to see it for yourself. You do not have to be from NJ to enjoy it, but it helps. I left that theater with so much Jersey pride I felt ready to burst. We are a state full of fighters, and we do not let anyone beat us down, no matter how much the odds are against us. We are also some funny s.o.b.’s apparently. Troma, as I said, are the masters of the Great Bad movie, and this is a Great Bad Musical. That being said, it is worth your time and money. The laughs are uproarious, and the Jersey in-jokes are great if you can catch them. If you go in their expecting Miss Saigon, you will be sorely disappointed, but if you go with an open mind expecting to have a great time, your every wish will be fulfilled.

Emoscopes

Because Emo Kids look to the Stars for Advice Too.

Aries

Yet again the emphasis veers to romance, thanks to the fabulous solar/lunar aspect. Unfortunately, Romance is the most tragic area of your existence, and everyone knows it. For single Rams an intriguing individual is likely to grab your attention today! So will his/her boyfriend/girlfriend! There should be some good opportunities to get to know this person and their significant other better. Just remember that opposites attract! You will be greatly attracted to this person, but their significant other will hate you. Well, you could always sit and wait for them to break up… IF that ever happens…

Taurus

You are likely to surprise and impress someone significant today by taking the lead. You will soon regret it however, as you will fail spectacularly at your task. Opportunistic influences should put you in the right place at the right time, but as usual you will let them pass by as you once again fail to muster the motivation necessary to seize the day. You’ll be in an excellent position to dole out some very helpful advice, earning you much deserved respect! Too bad no one ever listens to you.

Gemini

You lose a potentially distracting aspect, which should help you to firm up on a financial or practical matter! Unfortunately, that potentially distracting aspect was your little sibling to influenza. He/she will probably pull through, after being on a ventilator for 6 months but hey, at least you don’t have to worry about them messing up your eyeliner collection for a while. It might feel as though you finally hit the nail on the head over a lingering problem, or it could be the chance comment of a friend that gets you thinking, but keep on cutting and the answers will come. Just be receptive to the signs today!

Cancer

You should benefit from some financial improvements today, which can only mean one thing; more My Chemical Romance, Jimmy Eat World, and DeathCab for Cutie cd’s! An overdue shopping spree for some morose emo music for your iPod Touch will fail to provide the perfect lift for your feted, misbegotten life! Take a friend who will also never be satisfied with anything they have, so you don’t feel bad about your excessively fortunate lifestyle and upbringing. Whatever you do don’t bring someone who is less fortunate than you who will make you feel guilty, or advise you against buying anything too outlandish!

Leo

The fun and games that were lacking yesterday will be missing today as well. They should have been well and truly in evidence today, but come one, when does that ever happen for you? Romance sizzles for everyone but you, thanks to the both the lunar influence, and your piss-poor attitude. On a certain matter relating to a close friend you should go with your logic right now, rather than trying to follow a more instinctive approach! Remember, every time you’ve listened to your gut in the past it has resulted in disaster.

Virgo

Work or school is likely to provide the setting for some impressive defeat, as it has many times in the past. You’ll feel confident enough to take charge, but in no way should you; stay the course and keep to yourself. By all means, do not ruffle any feathers, who do you think you are? This is no mean feat, but for as long as you are you, with your personality, coming from where you come from, and looking the way you look, you’ll be in no shape to take charge! Please don’t go out of your normal position!

Libra

Thanks to a very beneficial aspect you are likely to have a day to remember when in comes to romance! No one will love you of course, or even regard you fondly, but you may just go one day without anyone making any disparaging remarks about your weight or appearance. And let’s be honest with ourselves, for you, you have to put that as a day in the WIN column. Singles could meet someone rather enigmatic, who will use them for money or sex, while attached Librans could be blown away by a sweet gesture that is used to cover up an affair by their significant other! However don’t attach too much importance to romantic words; we all know words are just promises waiting to be broken, don’t we?

Scorpio

You have not enjoyed the best of times over the past couple of days, and guess what bucko; you’re heading for a steep drop-off in the future! Work or school has been putting far too much pressure on you and so far you have not been complaining to anyone who can outrun you, but today the worlds is going to know exactly how you feel. Let’s see how they can ignore you when you take all of those aspirin in the middle of Lunch period! An evening out at the ER will be just what you need! God knows you don’t actually want to hurt yourself, but you will get the attention you crave!

Sagittarius

Your finances should improve significantly today, thanks to the solar/lunar aspect, and the side job you took exchanging money for sex. Honestly, it is your only skill. However, don’t spend it yet, no matter how much MAC eyeliner and Cure t-shirts go on sale. Hold on to it instead to guard against any more of your wild, violent mood swings, and for bail money. In the coming weekend, which is looking good for fun, watch out for abusive ex’s and any chances you have to vent your brooding rage. You’re still on probation remember…

Capricorn

It is likely to be one of those days where everything just clicks together against you. The planets indicate the possibility of an offer or a business based proposal coming towards a rival of yours today. But a minor aspect suggests that you read the small print, because it may enable you to foul up their sweetheart deal. Use your head, look for details, and your spite may end up ruining your rival’s life. Don’t leap in feet first, or someone else might experience some joy!

Aquarius

A stroke of good luck is likely to brighten your day today, but then soon, the other shoe drops and you will come crashing back down to Earth. Cash matters are looking good, until they’re not. On an emotional level though, your day might prove to be a little more demanding when you are forced to tag along with your ex (who you still have not gotten over) and his/her new significant other as a third wheel on their date tonight. Tensions with a friend might arise because of a confidence crisis; don’t be dismissive of their concerns! Especially since their concern is that you will kill someone tonight and go to prison for the rest of your life.

Pisces

If an unresolved matter resurfaces today don’t panic; there is no proof that you killed that hooker, you were meticulous! You could find you get support and help from an unlikely quarter, like Satan for instance… Delve deep into a problem to discover the real root-cause; don’t waste too much time on this however, because you know that the real cause of any problem is always you. Be prepared for some home truths, like your parents are horrible and suck for giving you everything you could ever want, but if you handle it calmly today’s planets could have a very beneficial effect! But probably not.