999 dead bodies on the wall, 999 dead bodies...
Duress is prominent and life just won�t let up for a second. I�ve been creatively stymied, which quite frankly, is driving me insane. The two promising pieces I�ve invested time in and not let fall by the way side like every other half-baked idea sit festering like an abandon backyard swimming pool in August.
Ole Bessy sprung a leak in her battery, which in turned melted wiring someplace in the bowels of my engine compartment. The results was my poor reliable Bessy being broken down for nearly 4 days, the repairs not being covered by warranty and $300+ down the drain. For this price I netted several bits of copper wire and a new battery; god I love the lines on a mechanics bill that read, LABOR & HAZMAT DISPOSAL.
My cellular positioning device has broken for the second time and the promised replacement is due in today. I�m going completely bonkers without a voice based communication appendage; thank the godz for roommates with unlimited minutes and extreme amounts of patience.
Water, food and shelter the three basic elements that any person should need in order to simply survive. Even though I live in the desert, water is always plentiful thanks to home delivered 10 gallon jugs. While I am suffering in the taste department, I�m surely not starving. Grant it, there is only so much Ramen, Mac & cheese and frost bitten microwave dinners one person can eat, but the fridge and pantry both need to be cleaned out before moving day and what better way to clean than to eat.
Now here is where things go completely crazy.
Besides shelter, there is one other basic element this human requires to live, love. Or at least part of my life that resembles a love life (albeit a piss poor representation of one) is something that I must have; yeah, I�m co-dependent like that. Both of these basic elements went off like explosives in a crowded Russian school gymnasium (more on this in a moment) sending me mentally flying into bits and pieces of unidentifiable lumps of flesh. A girl from my past, whom always had the potential to be someone extraordinary, has suddenly re-appeared with a window shattering boom. Ticking the list off on my fingers as I go: Masters in pre-med, enrolled in medical school for her PHD. Still has the same beautiful green eyes and voluptuous breasts, minus the �baby fat� she sported in her youth. Had her fun in the sun and bucked her drug addictions for homework and weeknight party sessions for early morning class schedules. She can write (be still my heart) quite well and partially thanks to my antics from our past, is a strong-willed independent, doesn�t take shit from anyone, woman. There is a possibility that she may quickly get bored with the conservative person I have turned into (yes, I used to be quite the hellion) or possibly do unspeakable things as some sort of retribution for past misgivings. In the meantime, I�ve got a hot ass about to be plastic surgeon doctor on my waiting list and a very good excuse for weekend road trips. I also asked her to give me an ass of my own just as soon as she starts practicing, I hear tell these sorts of surgeons can do that now.
Of course my sucker ass and inability to say, �excuse me extremely hot, naked woman can you please put your clothes on and kindly remove my hoo-hoo dilly from your cha-cha� means that my social agenda is as complicated as always. I also suppose half-heartedly complaining that I get used for sex is a very unmanly thing for me to do, but hey, I really am a sensitive guy. Just once I�d like someone just use me for my mind, writing skills and witty, candid banter. I guess this is just too much to ask, eh?
In the great words of Axel Rose��All we need is a little shelter�� Yeah, easy for him to say! Too many weeknights and weekends spent looking at ill suited spaces to squat in. Once I found the place, I knew as soon as I saw the floor to ceiling mirrors in the living room, wood trimmed loft and shag carpet in the upstairs bathroom that it had to be mine. Now there are too many sleepless nights worrying about proposals, counter-proposals, multiple offers, home-owners insurance, closing costs, loan approvals and� AAAAAHHHHHHHHH! Give me ulcers or give me death, but please for the love of god, give me an answer so I can sleep at night already.
So as the deprivation seeps in, the inspiration lays idle and my stomach digests itself, here are a few small things to warm your heart
The Ruskies are completely insane and I love the fact that they are pointing out to the current administration that they know what it�s like to have an Osama in their pants. What I found disturbing was the second example of a huge body count splashed across the newswire. They don�t even bother to negotiate; they just wipe them out through the best possible course of action. The first time it was gas and the second it was simply to run in guns blazing. While I�m glad to see they won�t back down or pull punches, I surely wouldn�t want to be a hostage in this country because either the kidnappers get you or your rescuers will.
And finally, we are almost there, 13 more dead amerikan soldiers and we are on shy of the millennium mark. I will finally be able to truthfully say that my pal dubyah is personally responsible for thousands amerikan casualties in Iraq alone. I have no clue how this cold-hearted retard can sleep at night.
�although in his defense, I�m thinking a frontal lobotomy and blunt-force head trauma will do that to you though wouldn�t it�?
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