I just wanted to share this song with you. Everytime I play it in my car, I feel really really superubermegacool. Don't doubt it.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Friday, October 9, 2009
Holy Jebus
Dear God,
I promise I'll go into the Jebus Room at the art museum next time, if you can somehow make this pain go away.
Your favorite atheist,
Me
P.S. Can you please hide a million dollars all over my house like the Easter bunny? I'd have a blast finding it. Thanks.
I promise I'll go into the Jebus Room at the art museum next time, if you can somehow make this pain go away.
Your favorite atheist,
Me
P.S. Can you please hide a million dollars all over my house like the Easter bunny? I'd have a blast finding it. Thanks.
Weird Series of Text Messages
OK, so I just got a series of texts. Apparently, a guy named David had my phone before me because I continue to get calls for him. I received a text from a number unknown to me while minding my business at work. Here's how it went:
Texter: Hey man... Wish u were here feeding me some dick and cum...How u been?
Me (thinking a friend might be messing with me): Lol. Good. New phone. Who is this? New phone.
Texter: Fukstik in lewisville
Me: Ok that doesn't mean anything
Texter: [picture message of an old dude dressed up in a Confederate Civil War costume... with no trousers, just the top, junk a flyin' everywhere] Does this help, lol...
Me: Dude. Seriously?
Texter: Man, I got our dicks in a pic for my profile page on squirt...U don't remember me? Lol.
Me: Dude, you MUST have the wrong number. But me and my co-workers surely enjoyed that. Nice job, General Lee.
*** END OF TEXTS ***
It's true. I really wish I were making this shit up. But thank you Confederate Soldier boy named Fukstik for brightening my otherwise sad day.
Texter: Hey man... Wish u were here feeding me some dick and cum...How u been?
Me (thinking a friend might be messing with me): Lol. Good. New phone. Who is this? New phone.
Texter: Fukstik in lewisville
Me: Ok that doesn't mean anything
Texter: [picture message of an old dude dressed up in a Confederate Civil War costume... with no trousers, just the top, junk a flyin' everywhere] Does this help, lol...
Me: Dude. Seriously?
Texter: Man, I got our dicks in a pic for my profile page on squirt...U don't remember me? Lol.
Me: Dude, you MUST have the wrong number. But me and my co-workers surely enjoyed that. Nice job, General Lee.
*** END OF TEXTS ***
It's true. I really wish I were making this shit up. But thank you Confederate Soldier boy named Fukstik for brightening my otherwise sad day.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
I'll no more block the goal like a goalie tending the net
My love for you wrote poems on my heart. It made me want to curl it around my body so that it could breathe life into me. Instead, it reached out it's hands and strangled me like a fucking python.
Why did you have to promise me life and then quit on us. I won't go so far as to say my life has no meaning. But someone please call a surgeon to crack my ribs and repair this broken heart. ;)
PS. Cyber-land, if you're reading this and find comfort in that we may be going through a similar situation, know that it will pass. Time truly heals all wounds... that and maybe some strange. Ha.
Why did you have to promise me life and then quit on us. I won't go so far as to say my life has no meaning. But someone please call a surgeon to crack my ribs and repair this broken heart. ;)
PS. Cyber-land, if you're reading this and find comfort in that we may be going through a similar situation, know that it will pass. Time truly heals all wounds... that and maybe some strange. Ha.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
The One that Got Away
So, I feel like I should have been writing this whole time. Why is it that I only feel an outpouring of creative emotion when I'm sad. Anyways, so I'm sure you'll catch up on all of the details of the last year and a couple months throughout the course of this blog, but let me go ahead and skip to the unhappy ending:
It's Over.
"Tell Garrett what he's won this time in the Game of Life.. That's right, ladies and gentlemen, he gets shit. You got it. Shit. And the traumatic experience of knowing he found 'the one' but has to let her go. Thanks for playing."
So Ash cut the cord today. I talked to her all the way to work, forty minutes away, sat in the parking garage at work, then left to come home due to a broken heart. You guys ever sit in the parking lot at work and go home? I feel like a schmuk.
Just last week we were talking about naming our children Adelaide and Vincent (Batman got shot down). We talked about how she would like her wedding band to be a thin, classy platinum band - I always loved her non-flashy style. But today, that's vanished. She says she wants to go to school in Indiana, and she doesn't want to come to Dallas. Obviously, I have become unimportant to her. So here I sit, coping again with one of life's most-asked questions: will anyone love me?
One of the few memories I have of my father is one where we went fishing at Smoke Rise Lake in North Jersey. Here I was a five-year-old child and I baited my hook with the worm, as I was taught. On the first cast, I hooked a fish that felt as big as I was. I reeled her in, all by myself, as I was taught. And then something happened which I remember to this day. When I reeled her to the dock and reached in to pull her out of the water, we shared a glance, and she came unhooked and swam away. My situation now is similar. Thank you, Ash, for giving me a glance before you unhooked yourself and swam away.
She has wings painted with gold - I knew she was a flight risk. But I didn't care. I still don't.
It's Over.
"Tell Garrett what he's won this time in the Game of Life.. That's right, ladies and gentlemen, he gets shit. You got it. Shit. And the traumatic experience of knowing he found 'the one' but has to let her go. Thanks for playing."
So Ash cut the cord today. I talked to her all the way to work, forty minutes away, sat in the parking garage at work, then left to come home due to a broken heart. You guys ever sit in the parking lot at work and go home? I feel like a schmuk.
Just last week we were talking about naming our children Adelaide and Vincent (Batman got shot down). We talked about how she would like her wedding band to be a thin, classy platinum band - I always loved her non-flashy style. But today, that's vanished. She says she wants to go to school in Indiana, and she doesn't want to come to Dallas. Obviously, I have become unimportant to her. So here I sit, coping again with one of life's most-asked questions: will anyone love me?
One of the few memories I have of my father is one where we went fishing at Smoke Rise Lake in North Jersey. Here I was a five-year-old child and I baited my hook with the worm, as I was taught. On the first cast, I hooked a fish that felt as big as I was. I reeled her in, all by myself, as I was taught. And then something happened which I remember to this day. When I reeled her to the dock and reached in to pull her out of the water, we shared a glance, and she came unhooked and swam away. My situation now is similar. Thank you, Ash, for giving me a glance before you unhooked yourself and swam away.
She has wings painted with gold - I knew she was a flight risk. But I didn't care. I still don't.
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