Tuesday, November 30, 2010
This guy knows what he's talking about and he's right.
For the most part all of us who serve have very little in common. We are all races and religions and both sexes and all kinds of sexual preferences and we do what we do for more reasons than can ever be written down or understood by anyone.
But we all are grown ass men and women. We have proved to ourselves and the rest of the world time and time again through our actions everyday.
And the idea that some of my fellow brothers and sisters in-arms can't be who they are because of know-nothing, god-fearing, hate-mongering, reactionary, ignorant, scared, superstitious little bitches, most of whom have never worn a flag on their shoulder much less had someone try and fucking kill them because of it pisses me the fuck off.
This second season of 16 and Pregnant has lost something. It fails entirely to capture my interest, despite my giving it every opportunity to do so. Every Tuesday I come home from work. I shower, read, maybe clean up a little. I make some dinner and then I go over to Scott and Cisco’s room with some beer. We tune in every Tuesday night at 8pm Mountain Time. And by fifteen minutes in I’ve lost interest.
Now some people may say that it has something to do with the fact I’ve already seen 16 & Pregnant and the seminal follow-up Teen Mom. I’ve gotten my sick gratification of watching teenagers attempt to deal with unplanned pregnancy and in some cases trying to raise their child. Some may say that because the novelty is gone with it goes my enthusiasm. Not so. There are droves of retarded reality shows I could give two shits about in spite of their novelty.
Case in point Jersey Shore. Fairly groundbreaking idea (for reasons I shan’t make clear right now but if you doubt me I am more than willing to defend my stance) but ask me if I gave one fuck about it for any point in time (except for a fairly solid Jersey Shore theme party I went to once) or even watched it.
No I loved 16 & Preggars because the young men and women it followed were allowed to develop. They were shown as more than just stupid teenagers, in spite of the fact that they could very easily be called that by all the rest of us who managed to have sex as teens and not have a child. But this second season is doing a garbage job of making these guys and gals in any way approachable. Part of it may be the hasty way in which this season was rushed into production. Part of it may be that they start every episode off solidly into the 3rd trimester and go at least a month into the birth as opposed to focusing on solely the pregnancy as with the first season. Part of it may be that real, worthwhile human beings whose lives would make more than just cheap thrills are probably reluctant to have their personal lives plastered all over MTV for some second season run of a show panned widely by most people with brains.
All I know is (and this is just my opinion here) the four girls and their respective male counterparts from the first season and Teen Mom were trying. They might have been fucking crazy (Amber) or spoiled rotten by their crazy parents (Farrah) or technically step-siblings (Caetyln), but damnit if they weren’t trying their fucking hearts out. They were trying to go to college, have jobs, raise their kids and cultivate meaningful relationships with significant others, friends and family members. There was more to them then being teenagers with a baby and no money. I just plain can’t think of anyone shown on this season that has a more compelling story than; we’re broke. And even when it seems like they aren’t as broke as they could be it is obvious MTV is making it seem like they are because some fuckhead thinks that’s why the show was a success before. But what did I expect from the channel that canceled Clone High and How’s Your News and Nitro Circus but kept Bully Beatdown.
Wish I hadn't fucked up college.
Part of me would love a war with North Korea, part of me would hate it.
Rationale: It would give me something to do and they got it coming and maybe this country would remember how to work together if we had a real full-on go-for-broke war. But its really cold and they might glass the South and when I say cold I'm talking like fucking cold.
I despise Christmas music.
If drinking High Life on my lunch break is wrong then I don't want to be right.
I should be running more. And yoga. I think maybe I should do yoga.
New prospect on the horizon?
Happy 22nd Birthday Sid. Wish I could be there for that party.
16 & Preggars is on tonight. SCORE!
I am waking up early tomorrow and going for a fucking run in the fucking freezing cold. No bitching out this time.
Dorothy seriously knows everyone, and who they're fucking.
What do you call your brother-in-law's sister?
Monday, November 29, 2010
Is this a bummer? Yes it is.
Does this mean I'll be in El Paso until May? Yes it does.
Am I somewhat worried about my prospects for college in the Fall of 2011? Yes I am.
However I'm proud to say I did not let that sour news, nor its possible future implications spoil my time in NoVA. I can say with confidence I fucking raged and it was glorious. The simple fact that VI breakfast, sketch karaoke with lesbians and spending time with people that you truly love and that truly love you cures pretty much all ills.
And I found out someone wrote a poem about me that was published, in spite of the fact my sweaty feet were a somewhat prominent factor.
I guess I can't complain.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
But its hard. Its not just hard because of the addictive properties of Nicotine. Its not just hard because it has become a habit and something of a mental addiction. Its not just hard because its an outward manifestation of my inner self-destructive tendencies. And its not just hard because smoking gives you something to do when you're standing there with your finger up your nose looking like a jackass.
Its hard because there really is something to it. If there wasn't I wouldn't do it, 1.22 billion other people wouldn't currently be doing it, and pretty much everyone awesome/noteworthy/famous/infamous from history wouldn't have done it.
I'm not defending smoking from a health standpoint. I'm not saying anyone who is not smoking should be smoking. I'm not saying people who smoke a little should smoke more. I'm not saying children should smoke. I'm not saying just because other people have or do so should anyone. All I'm saying is I wish I was not banished from polite society for my use of tobacco.
Some people and the media and the government seem to revel in the passing of judgment on me because of a habit I have. They say I'm stupid and dirty and inconsiderate. They say I bow to 'peer pressure' and savvy ad campaigns and I'm somehow less than a contributing member of our society. Even people who smoke weed somehow consider themselves able to preach at me from the moral high ground. And while I don't think think pot is a harmful, nation-destroying drug I'll be fucking damned if some spacey burnout motherfucker thinks he or she can look down on me for smoking non-psychotropic substances allowed by law.
All I would like is acceptance. Acceptance that we are all subject to certain failings and dependencies. We all have our opiate, our comfort. Cigarettes or sex or God or Xbox or alcohol or weed or Xanax or weight lifting or coke or any number of other things. These are the things that help every one of us through every one of our days. Our sine qua non. What do we stand to gain by demonizing each other? Where does it get us?
Monday, November 22, 2010
I know its time for another trip, but please, oh dear fucking holy gods above, below and on the sides DO NOT do what you're thinking about doing. ITS NOT WORTH IT.
You, Penis and I had our shot a long time ago. We blew it. I've been doing really good about her for a long-ass time. Shit, Penis moved on (and on and on...) like, 3 years ago. We would like to be friends again, but that can't happen if you get all twisted over dumb shit.
Fair enough. I promise to lock it up, but I can't be held responsible if we get drunk with her. That shit's on you.
GO FUCK YOURSELF. I ALREADY TEXTED HER. SHE IS DTF! HAHAHAHAHA
Please wear a condom this time.
Friday, November 19, 2010
As you read this I'm 6 deep in Four Loko's. I've puked twice and my ight hand is swolen. I'm typing bad and my mind has entered another plane. But I'm proving a point toninight. Point is you can't tell us what to do. You can't hold back awesomness and you can't shackle the selfdestructive nature of humantiy.
Fuck you FDA. Fuck you long and fuck you hard.
I don't believe you know what's best for me. How the fuck could you? You think a good life is long and healthy. You want me to work produce until I'm 60 and die when I'm 70. I want to consume and burn a hole in your charts for as long as I can. I want to kill and maim and destroy profit margins. I want blood and rock & roll.
I fought and bled for your stupid asses , and you repay with me banning Four Loko?
Home of the Free indeed...
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
It sucks, but there is something about it you cannot deny. Try as you might, say what you will but you're a god damn motherfucking liar if you say its not catchy as shit.
The world in which we live is sucking right now but things are better right now then ever.
So how about we all calm down and relax.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Chester the Molester
Guy Whose Name I Don't Know (RIP)
Steve, Tony and James the 'Terps
2nd Platoon (Dirty Deuces) Alpha Company, 1st Battalion, 37th Armored Regiment, 1st Brigade, 1st Armored Division, III Corp, US Army
And everyone else who has taken it upon themselves to protect our country and the lives of those within.
I don't know why other people write/blog. (PS I still fucking hate that word.) But I do know why I write. I write for me. I say (almost) whatever it is I want/need to say. And then I toss it out there into the ether and it feels kinda good. I'm not sorry and I'm not ashamed and I'm not embarrassed and I'm not worried.
In the words of a Mr. Joey Comeau: "We're all going to die. I intend to deserve it."
I was on my bus home from Madison freshman year on a Friday in the spring the first time I heard that song. Little (Hot As Shit) Britney and Fat Mackenzie (Pre-Lipo) were bumping it on portable speakers connected to someone's CD player.
And I almost hate to say it but honest to fuck the lines that stood out to me:
Sippin' on Coke & Rum
I'm like "So what I'm drunk"
Its the freakin' weekend
Baby I'm about to have me some fun
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
I had a good day at work that was productive but not stressful, I have nothing that needs doing that I haven't already tended too and I got a fridge full of good beer and cheap liquor.
I'm heading to Atlanta in the AM for a few days, next weekend I'll be Ruidoso, NM for some gambling and drinking and then back to NoVA for Thanksgiving. It'll be an action-packed few weeks to be sure but honestly right now I'm just enjoying the moment.
Not to mention the fact that I'm winning right now. Its really rare that I'm winning what I'm winning at, but I am.
Fully Unrelated: I have an American flag hanging over my bed right now. Its the same flag I had over my bed in Iraq and the same flag I stole from some poor SOB's porch almost two years ago during a round of drunken shenanigans. Now I know how to fold a flag all proper (thank you CH) but I never got around to doing so with this flag. So its all wrinkled from its travels. And just this moment I wondered if its ok to iron a flag. As in would that be considered disrespect.
Because I don't really want to treat Old Glory with disrespect. But then I think that maybe it doesn't really matter at all what someone does to the physical flag. Maybe what matters is a body's intention.
Maybe more on this later. Right now, this second there is a fairly pretty girl in my kitchen asking me why the fuck I'm not shotgunning a beer with her and I have no good answer. Flag philosophy can wait.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Fuck. My. Life.
Looks like I just put all of my getting-out-of-the-Army-early eggs into the VCU-basket. It could be worse, I mean I wouldn't mind in the least going to VCU. I just wish I wasn't so fucking stupid.
And while I'm on the subject, fuck college admissions. There are very few things in this world that can make me feel like I'm 17 again, but damned if waiting for an acceptance or rejection letter from some smug application processor isn't one of them.
4-6 Weeks to process all my shit. Goody for you taking your damn sweet time VCU. 4-6 weeks from the 1st of this month is DECEMBER. I NEED TO KNOW PRETTY DAMN FUCKING SOON TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE IN JANUARY. Which in and of itself is nowhere near a done deal. I need a god damn Two Star's signature for that shit.
I got stress coming from all sides right now and I just decided to make my first attempt at quitting smoking.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
I don't know why I'm tripping off this shit. I haven't talked to her in months and months. I can barely fucking stand her. And by 'barely' I mean I can't unless my BAC is over .12.
And who knows what her deal is now. I'm sure she has other shit going on. Do I want her to have other shit going on? Or do I want her? Or do I want someone to want me, even if I fucking despise them?
Fucking fucking FUCK.
I'd love to claim massive popularity, but I think maybe I'm the only guy who answers his phone in the dead of night.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
The man has very deft and insightful things to say, but when he reads them out loud his voice will make you want to beat his smart ass to death. I swear to fuck, he is the whiniest little fuck in the world.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Another one is planning for the future. Its hard to justify spending time on long-term plans if those plans don't dovetail with carpe-ing every ounce from every diem.
Which brings me to my current block; deciding what it is I actually want to do.
I have some free time, a perfect amount for a jaunty trip to Hipster City, or Las Vegas, or anywhere in North America really. And I have the money of course, but I don't think my hearts in it at the moment. I'm tired and I'll be heading down to Atlanta in a few days anyway. My bank account could use a breather and I'm sure my liver could too. Not to mention the idea of being stuck on another series of planes across the country abhors me.
So I suppose I'll just take it easy here in the big ELP this weekend and try not to think of all the fun Ill be missing everywhere else. I just hope I don't wake up Saturday morning kicking myself in the head.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
I just wrote a pretty decent 10 paragraphs but couldn't remember the ending I had in mind when I started. Oh well.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
What does that mean? Well right now it means the Rebublican party will take control of the House, the Democrats will probably have control of the Senate and I'm gonna be hungover as shit tommrow. See on election days I have a few traditions.
First comes is not voting, then baiting people to harrass me about my responsibility as an American to vote. Nothing makes me happier than someone lecturing me on civic responsibiliy. Call me crazy but I feel like I fufill my civic duty by defending the body politc at large, while those that love to lecture tend to not. Is this a jerk-ass thing to do? Yes, yes it is. Ask me if I give a fuck.
Then I sit around work and find out exactly why it is any given person identifies with their chosen politcal party. This is super-fun in the Army where no one understands anything other than Rebublicans=Yay Army, Democrats=Yay Black Presidents. (I swear this is really how it is.)
Last comes getting wasted and watching CNN while talking politics to other drunk people. As far as I've seen its just about the only way any of it matters is if you're an idealist or drunk. And the only way I can converse with the former is to be the latter.
So I always wake up the first Wednesday in November with a wicked hangover and a re-affirmed conviction that Pete Townshend is neck-and-neck with Tom Petty and Bob Dylan insofar as being a lyrical genius is concerned.
(For the record I am a registered voter in the Commonwealth of Virginia. I maintain the ability to vote, but choose not to.)
Monday, November 1, 2010
I laughed at him because I wasn't. Oh sure some afternoons around the house I did get kinda bored, but pretty soon Patty would come home or I'd go out and meet friends after work. But more so than that, when I had the time and the money I went to China. I took a bite out of life in a way that just doesn't occur to people like my coworker.
Guys and gals like him are just too practical I think. They just don't understand how you can just "go to China". And its not like he had a lot of other things to do. He has no kids, he's not in debt and he had the time off. Maybe he doesn't want to go to China (or wherever) but he also doesn't want anything like that. He wants to work 5 days a week and go party on the weekends He wants to drink some beers while watching a football game on Sundays. He wants to see his family at Christmas and sleep with his girlfriend every night.
I'm not saying there is anything wrong with any of those things. I want some of them too. But that's all he seems to want. He doesn't want to travel, he doesn't want to jump out of a plane or hunt boar with a sharp stick and a buck knife. He has no desire to go backpacking or hiking or camping in strange ass places. He doesn't want to read philosophy or see The Pillowman preformed on stage. He doesn't give a shit about those kind of things I suppose.
To me that's alien. I want everything, all the time. I want everything I said and more. I want a home and a girl to love. I want to have a purpose in life too. But I also want adventure. I want good adventure and bad adventure and funny adventure and scary adventure. I want to be an old man that you can tell has done just about everything and I won't mind at all if it shows. I'll take facial scars and leathery skin and bad knees down the road for to see and do the things I have seen and done. And the greatest thing about it is I'm just getting warmed up.