Update

I just pooped. I had completely forgotten that I ate corn yesterday.

Ode to Hooters Air

Why oh why did you have to go?
How I wanted to fly with you so,
Flight attendants made to surely entice,
Each with 2 built-in floatation device,
Wings and fries, burger and more,
Don’t you call my pilot no whore,
Please come back soon, or I will die,
Oh Silicon Club one mile high.

Job Hunting we will go!

Job hunting sucks. I don’t understand what companies are looking for these days. I would like to think I have a fairly good resume. Here are some highlights:

1. Bachelor’s degree
2. Master’s degree
3. 5 years of management experience
4. Membership to five professional organizations
5. Authored strategic plans and grants
6. Certified trainer for 2 national organizations
7. Managed $1 million budget
8. I’m hung like a (sea) horse
9. Back hair galore
10. If necessary- will work for sex not salary

I have been searching for a professional job for almost two years now. I have sent nearly 700 resumes to local and national organizations. And what has been my response you may ask?

(Drum roll please....)

I have had 2 return phone calls, 2 emails, 1 phone interview and zero job offers. Yes, you heard me correctly…NOTHING! Please keep in mind that I live in the middle of BFE Midwest, and I’m guessing that master’s degrees and such are hard to come by. I would think that some companies would at least give me a look…but no. Well, here is what I have to say to all of those companies who continue to reject me...

It’s your loss. I rock!

Memories

I was thinking back to my high school years today. Then I vomited.

Word to your Grandmutha!

During a recent trip to our local casino, I was rudely pushed out of an aisle by a 97 year-old women who was trying to get to her “lucky slot” (machine). Which of the following was my response to her brutal assault?


a. “You’re 97 years old. Your slot may never get lucky again.”
b. “You put the 'f' in gilf"
c. “Nice hooters. Could you kindly lift them off my shoes?”
d. I said nothing. I am spineless.
e. “I must break you.”
f. “Oh, you poor women. Please allow me to move. I am so terribly sorry.”
g. "Is banging!"
h. “You don’t know her, but Sherry is a whore!”

Please feel free to post comments and add your own possible responses.

Regarding our nation's leader

I will say nothing of wars, WMD’s, foreign policy, wire-tapping, or anything of the sort. I have but one simple request. When elderly royalty from another country come to visit Washington D.C., can you please not accuse them of being 200 years old?

I am no expert on etiquette, but some might perceive that comment as being rude.

What I LOVE about ESPN

It matters NOT whether is it NFL preseason, mid-season, post season or off season...It's ALL Terrell Owens ALL the time. 24/7/365.

I love me some T.O.
(Not really)

Has anyone else ever noticed...

...in certain photographs, Lindsay Lohan and Michael Jackson look eerily similar.

Feel the love

I must apologize to my friends and family. I've realized that I have failed to mention many of them in my writings. I am very blessed as I have an amazing family and many great friends who care for me. Certainly we are crazy in our own ways, but I love them all dearly.

Thanks to all my friends and family for who they are, what they mean, who they make me, who I am with them, what they say, what they don't say and how they make me feel. They make me feel sane, insane, wild, calm, witty, special, ambitious, depressed, challenged, dysfunctional, hopeful, hopeless, energetic, childlike, mature, normal, abnormal, prideful, arrogant, humble and loved. But most of all, they make me feel.

I will write more about them in upcoming posts.

Curiosity Killed the Puss

Ok, I must confess. You may think I am complete pervert, but I am "fleshlight curious." Have you seen these things? They are shaped like a flashlight, except the end that normally contains the lightbulb has a fake vagina. It's made with "real feel skin." You actually have sex with a flashlight. Brilliant. And I don't even need to buy dinner or put up with all the stalking.

For more information, please visit www.fleshlight.com. Oh and their advertising motto is amazing...."No girlfriend? This is better!"

Hung Up

If wishes were horses, I would be hung like you wish.

Questions of the day

Who is God?
Who is God to you?

What is love?
What is love to you?

Who are you?
Who are you to you?

What a pile o' shit...

Doctor, Doctor

When I was seven, I was convinced that I was going to be a doctor when I grew up. I wasn't cognitively advanced enough to try to predict what kind of doctor I would be. Actually, I guess I never thought about it. But, those plans failed when I realized 4 years later that in order to become a doctor, I would have to cut open dead bodies. No thanks. I had this recurring nightmare that I would go to anatomy lab, open the corpse bag and it would be my aunt who died the previous week.

Hi Aunt Petunia. Nice seeing you again.

Intro

Here's the intro to a short story I'm currently working on....

I’m don’t think I’m clinically depressed. I just think I’m just a realist. Clinical depression is someone who actually has a decent life, but still can’t get himself out of bed in the morning. It’s the wealthy accountant, living in suburbia, with a beautiful wife and three blonde children who looks out at the sunrise and cries uncontrollably. That’s clinical depression.

I am completely broke and owe thousands of dollars to Sally Mae, my father, a couple of friends. I’ve had loved ones die far too young. I’ve been unemployed for a year and a half. I'm single and lonely. I’ve spent the last 38 hours in bed. My problem isn't depression. The problem lies in reality.

I don’t know what made me decide to start writing today. I guess in some way, it’s cathartic. Somehow the motion of pressing the keys on my iBook G4 helps me cope with the heartache of life.

Life comes to me in snapshots. Moments embedded in my mind. My mother and I playing basketball on my back porch. My brother and I coated in muck after romping through the mud puddles in the driveway. My sister’s face after giving birth to her first child. My father trick-or-treating with us and constantly repeating, “It’s a scary one boys and girls.” These will be forever mine. And sometimes I wonder if life is just a pursuit of snapshots.

But I am also in awe of the pain around me. Children starving, AIDS, cancer, suicide, drug addiction, death. Life seems morbid and random. Heroes die and murderers live. Where is the sense? Where is the logic? Why was I given a mind, if in all my humanity, I cannot comprehend anything?

I guess that’s where my story begins. Me. Depressed. Finally getting out of bed after a 38-hour nap…

I lay on my back looking up at the unfinished wooden ceiling above me. I take a deep breath. I try not to think about debt for once. Just a day without that thought would be amazing. I sit there and contemplate for a moment if it is time for me to get out of bed yet? I guess it is. The old milk jug that holds my piss is almost full.

The Return

I have come back. Back from the brink of the non-blogging community. I have returned. I have been to the land on the non-communicative, and have lived to tell about it.

Well, honestly, I have just been lazy and haven't written anything lately (and by lazy I mean chronically depressed and by lately I mean like 6 months). But, I am making a new committment to post more often. New and improved posts....funny, witty, life-altering posts.

I have much to share. New friends, new jokes, new back hair. Life isn't great, but at least it's mildly interesting. Come on my journey of words are learn the most valuable of life lessons....Your life isn't as bad as you think.