sunday funday – You Got Sars!

Hey you, the one over there taking up space on the eliptical machine… Get off the fucking phone! This is the gym! Great Gus people REALLY? If your iPhone doubles as your iPod then so be it… but don’t answer the fucking thing while you are working out. How can you actually workout while gabbing away about what the kids had for lunch and what time they have to be at soccer practice. Can’t it wait for you to work out for 30 minutes and burn off some of the chub you have built up because you aren’t actually working out, you’re talking on the phone.

Now you, girl talking in text speak. Do you realize that you sound like an uneducated idiot? You are somewhere in your early 20’s (you’re in a bar, lets hope this to be true) and you can’t go three sentences without a text abbreviation for something, and you can’t go three words without saying like. WTF? STFU. Use all that money daddy just spent for good, not evil. PYHO and use some of that education to find a job somewhere. And OMG! the 80’s were the decade before you were born, not the one we’re in… send your cloths back from whence they came.

Next, little table o’ frat boys at my favorite writing spot. I don’t care if it’s Sunday Funday or Monday night Football or what-the-fuck-ever…. The servers here are awesome. Have you noticed there are only two? For the whole place (yes back room included)? So when you flag one of them down, Hey, hey, HEY!!! and then your drunk ass buddy sits there, uh, uh, uh and doesn’t know what he wants… I want to hit you, more importantly she wants to hit you (or him) because you are making it look like she sucks to all the other people waiting for their beers because your dumb ass had performance anxiety. Take notice of your surroundings man. Next time I may just call her over – hey, hey! and order a can of whoop ass for your table. She’ll probably do it too (she likes those big ass rings).

Drunk guy who happens to be sitting next to me at the pub… Thank you kindly for cutting me off and telling my awesome bartender (that I love and take good care of) that you’ve got my drink. Very sweet. The quarter you left as a tip…. NOT fucking sweet. Learn how to tip man. This is a bar, know your etiquette, tip accordingly. better yet, if you want to impress a lady… try not being a tard.

I will let this be all for now. because I could go on and on and on….. I have nice stuff, fun stuff, rainbows and kittens and heartwarming shit that makes me almost throw p in my mouth. But this had to come out first. sorry?

(in the vain of the old myspace blogs) Currently Listening to: Andrew Jackson Jihad;
Candy, Cigarettes & Cap Guns

From Blogger Pictures

Sitting at the pub while the man read the paper, I wrote what I thought was a decent post for today. I actually put it down on real paper with a pen and everything. But as is par, on my way home I got sidetracked. When I turned on the car and headed back, it took a few to realize there were no sounds coming out. I was deep in thought about a friend of mine and the bull shit she is being forced to deal with right now. So I turned up the volume…

It didn’t actually take the whole verse for me to know the song. Hell it didn’t even take more than a couple words. My friends face was flooding tears to my eyes because the whole song was in my head. I had to re start the song.

“…

I’m sure you’ll learn to dance and drink and dream
But you might still feel lost

And I see myself in you my friend
But I would break where you would bend
I’m calling on what you defend and tonight I won’t hold back”

This song has significant meaning to me and honestly got me through some darkness. But hearing it now, all I could think of was my friend and her life. I could see her over the last few months and how the fear and stress has built upon itself layer by layer. I see her fighting in a constant swim upstream to keep what’s most important to her. I thought of how hard she works to prove to some douchenozzle what the rest of us already see, how he fights her and threatens her and uses fear as a tool to manipulate her. Fear is a powerful tool.

“Just don’t waste all your years
Believing in the fear
You’ll choke out what’s alive and make
What’s wrong be all that’s real

I can see you’re weakened at the seams
And trying to swim upstream but can’t find a way

So here we are again trying to hold back
The tides behind our eyes
Lucky ones trying to drink from both the wells we claim are dry
I guess I’ve found some freedom in
Embracing every time they pry

We’re both the same
You’re just like me”

The tears are rolling as I’m trying to sing along, and hit the back button again. I was reminded that I’ve been in this place, I’ve swam in this stream. I’ve been consumed by this fear and it’s sickening. For a moment I felt her pain and was crippled. I was in that moment and remembered my own fear. For a moment we were both the same.

“And when your skin finally sheds
You’ll find your nerves all in shreds
The price may be to keep your heart you’ll lose your head”

For me it took the physical act of shaving my head to keep my heart, to lose my fear (or some of it anyway) and lose my head or analyze less (ain’t gonna lie – not a lot less but I’m trying). I needed the reminded that I did this… I went through the work so that my skin could be shed. I made it out of the stream in one piece. I’m not sure what will happen to my friend. I am not sure of how things will turn out. She is barely at the river’s mouth and there are bears waiting in the water to catch her. What I am sure of is that she is not alone. No one should ever be alone doing battle with people that have evil inside. I know that she is loved and I have bear traps.

Oh, the song is The Odds by the band The Loved Ones…