Monday, March 30, 2009

Prom was a lot of fun. And no, luckily there were no Prom Night Dumpster Babys. We don't go out often at all, but the other half made it look like we were seasoned pros by having happy dancing feet all night.

Went to Flixx beforehand for a primer cocktail. I used to work security/barbacking/bartending/VJ at Flixx, so I know pretty much everyone there and get treated pretty well when I show my face. It was early when we got there and no one was there but us and the bartender, we'll call him Bob. I had worked with Bob before and have never really been a fan to say the least, but have never had any real beef with him either. Not too dillusioned to not realize that it prolly was the fact that he showed up being all younger and cuter and all that shit just as I was growing out of my own twinkish faze.

Anyhow...we have a little game that we play with each other that pretty much goes like this, I'm going to say something that either makes your blood boil or effect you in some other dramatic fashion with such ease because I'm totally better than you. Yeah, I'm that mature. Well ladies.....he got me this time. Got me good.

"I have the displeasure of being roomates with Tim."

Double take, pregnant pause like Dorthy on the Golden Girls...."My ex-Tim?"

"Yeah, took me a while to figure it out. But he tried getting a job here and couldn't get hired because of a past fellony. When I found out it was domestic abuse and the way he talked about it, I was able to put two and two together and realized he's the one that broke your leg a few years ago."

What in the fuck can you say to that? I'm usually not at a loss for words, but my breath was devistatingly taken away. This girl's good.

I knew Tim was back in town. He moved away after he beat the living shit out of me on Christmas day over 3 years ago, in my home town where we were visiting my parents. Moved away to not have to face me for what happened, or anyone else that had anything to do to me after I helped keep him out of jail by telling the judge that he couldn't pay my medical bills in the slammer. Apparently 3 years is enough to cool things over and let everyone else forget. Bordering on living in the past or feeling sorry for myself, I haven't really let it go yet, and it's something that I haven't thought about in a while but has shaped my life into what it's been in the subsequent 3 years.

I don't ever talk about it, for as little it's been on my mind. I've always thought it would always just go away. I suppose a little therapy over the matter is a good idea, but it prolly would have been a better one 3 years ago. Violence really is traumatic. In my case, it's made me a little mean, a little bitter towards the world, untrusting of people in general, and ready to hit people when I get angry or distressed. This is what I learned in one night. Kinda sucks to realize just by a casual comment, and to know that the pain is still kinda there even though you would have swore that it's not. Fighting like hell to try and not let it effect the rest of your life is pretty much a losing battle, but really what else is there to do.

Exept blog about it and hope it leaves your system.

Friday, March 27, 2009


So I sat my happy ass down in my cube (a.k.a the soul sucker of deprivaty)this morning, sat my shit down, and this is what I found. Apples and Oranges. It amused me for about 10 seconds, then I realized how fucking lame I am.

Gay prom is this weekend. The wife had to get me drunk in order to get me to go get fitted for a tux. $250.00 fucking bucks for the both of us to look like douches. I see more unpaid bills and have a sinking feeling in my tummy about them. Apparently our relationship needs "work" so I guess this is how people work out their problems, paying for something they can't afford. Oh fucking well, I hear McDonalds is looking for another part time McNerd. Maybee I'll post pics when all is said and done. I just hope to God I don't wake up pregnant like I did the morning after in High school. I threw out all my wire hangers.

Monday, March 16, 2009


Mondays are the worst ever. I don't think I'm a big complainer, but I will always have nothin' good to say about a Monday. Monday is really no different than any other weekday really, only I'm usually a little more hung-over. So today I thought I'd chronical all of my big doings thru my Monday in order to try to understand why they are the way they are:

8:00 am; got to work, on time, don't have my iTouch cause asshat step-son stole it and took it to mom's. Made a note to punch him.

8:15 am; Finally able to log into my peice of shit computer that takes 50 hours to start.

10:10 am; wasting company time by starting to write a blog. Looking forward to my pink slip by mid-afternoon.

10:15 am; remembered broken but halfway functioning headphones in file cabinet, Chaka Kahn is making everything seem a little better.

10:38 am; Sales is making everything worse by being fucking retarded.

11:37 am; IMing my buddy Paul, just talking about weiners and balls.

12:52 pm; Back from lunch, ran home for a nice 15 minute recharge nap and a quick wank. I'd say the day is looking up, but I'm thinking that was prolly going to be the best part of my day.

1:01 pm; Got a text from BFF Philson, Club Joy is back open this weekend. I barbacked there before it closed 4 years ago, the funnest time in my life. See if I can't get my job back.

2:18 pm; Out of steam.

4:00 pm; One. More. Hour.

4:06 pm; Asshat step-son calls to tell me that my iTouch is frozen and won't work. Making a note to punch him twice.

Skipping ahead to 5:00 pm; running out the effing door

5:30; cocktail in hand and a step-son punched twice