Everyonce in a while, I have a glass of wine, sit down, and write a blog. The only decision i have to make now a days, is to which blog branch I’ll post it to. the past few days are somewhat of a blur… well, today, I’ll be talking mostly about the jessica, or whatever else passes my mind. But, everyonce in a while, I just need to write something down as part of a ongoing plan not to go batshit crazy and launch a ball of iron into the sun and wait for hell to wash over me. Today is no different from the others.
First off, the search for dates is my weak point in the chain of what I like to call, my skill set. I’m a charmer, not really, every relationship i’ve ever had, I have mostly blundered into, or it might’ve been just timing and placement of me and the woman in question.
Trust me, I’m a doctor. With three arms.
For a week and a half, I haven’t left the house, or even ventured out of my room much save for doing the htings that need be doing. Like feeding the horses, taking care of max, the cats, cleaning, eating and so on. today is the first timme I’ve actually felt like going into the world and going somewhere that wasn’t laden with dick jabbing ex girlfriends or unneeded things that made me feel as if I were on the price is right half the time.
Trust me. I’m the wolf. That is hyper.
things I would just love to rant about:
Juan Francisco Beltran. A pedophile.
Jessica Demello. My exgirlfriend with a penchant for being like rocky balboa facing off against a giant dong.
My ex fiance, Caasi Drury, who now believes that the matrix is real.
My search for a date with that usually ends with my being in a relationship with some chick. tis greatness.
Kim K. A haunting visage of a one time and one sided love that was purest in its own way but fell flat.
Kimberly Scwinn. A woman on OKCupid with a busy schedule that I am having a, So far, one sided conversation with. Love it.
there are many things that I could concievably rant and rave about. but to be honest, I just havent felt the need. Maybe I’m entering what people call the “Oh shit i just dumped someone” phase of things, wherein I reflect on what the fuck I was thinking about when I wrote the words “I am breaking up with you.”
Or the fact that I now have a penchant for creating Capture the flag levels for a game no one of any relevance still plays. I find it relaxing and helps me gain some insight onto what the fuck i’m going to do next.
I seem to overload myself with things, that, at the time, make perfect sense to work on for a while. but then, as is always the case, I get bored with them! Need to start using those more often. !!!!!!! there you go. I get bored and want to do other things.
I need a change of pace, as I fear i might slowly being going insane. That’s what the writing is for right? To vent my various frustrations in the internet where every bob, jim, and dick tracy wannabe does it. Tis life, love, and hatred all at one time.
i’m going to open up, just this once, aboutsomething I don’t really talk about that much. MY familial life. Yay for fucking you.
At home, I’ve sworn on many time before, not to EVER talk or write about what’s going on in the household besides my own freakishly entertaining boredom. Well nuts to that I dare say! We’ve two exchange students, three at the moment for one odd reason or another, and one of them is gratifyingly inert as to our perception of him. He goes about his ways, unknowingly cause one set of strifes after another, and as I am rarely around to witness this genuine evolution of a human turnip, I hear about it from my mother.
I love it. Not. I can only say for certain that at one point, I actually started listening, and realized to the sheer horror of my natural intellect, that she was being driven batshit crazy by the relatively small incidents that have built up over time. and as my duty of the loving son, I listen, give feedback, and generally just try to shito ut a happy feelings cake.
Well, all that listneing and I feel as if I had listening to the mewling anecdotes of a driveling homeless person who’s suffered a traumatic brain injury or two. This is my opinion, and I for one, and tired of people complaining about it. fuck off you anal retentive prats and come back when you’ve the class to sit and read what i’ve put out for the masses! The rest of you, you’re very welcome.
My mother, though an intelligent person of severely great ambition, is at the peak of losing her mind because of this students antics. I fall on the balance beam of not caring and caring just enough to remember that I didn’t care to begin with, but not that I’ve started caring about not caring enough to care, I end up writing a paragragh with the word care written more times than I… well, you know… to admit.
For other topics, I have NEVER dated a black woman. Why use labels? Why not, If I had simply stated that I have never dated a woman, i would be forced to call bullshit on myself and promptly end it right there. Black women are the mysterious breed of female that intrigue and beguile me more so than even the most beautiful woman. Tis true. I would go so far as to say I have never ventured into the strange fields of interacial dating because I feared a mass of angry black men would beat the crap out of me for even thinking of dating their women. Well nuts to them. i’m thinking of dating their women.
That last paragraph, sounded slightly racist. I’m not even sure how to progress from this topic, but to grind it into the ground. with the time I have, I managed to do so.
Previously mentioned, I’ve favored the colors of Black and white, polar opposites in the spectrum, revealing both the dark and mysterious nature couple with the pure and clean curiousity I sometimes exhibit.
There was point in that, I just wanted to get that out of the way.