NOTE: If you are easily offended by offensive things then please go somewhere else. I suggest pbskids.org or barbie.com, you wuss!


SCROLL TO THE BOTTOM OF THIS PAGE TO LISTEN TO MY HILARIOUS AND WILDLY OFFENSIVE PODCAST!

Thursday, April 17, 2003

A wednesday when I don't buy any comic books is a very spooky sort of wednesday.


MOOD: quietpositiveyettrepidatious

BACKGROUND: Flip the Switch @ http://fliptheswitch916.tripod.com


Anyone who has read this more than once knows my love, my insaine love, for wednesdays. Those are my days. And all the childlike excitement that I now derive from being able to walk into the comic book store by my house and having them say say, Hey Steve, and having them go and get the new comics waiting for me, just like I always dreamed about since I was a little child. I always wanted that, to be able to have a box of saves at the comic book store. And now every wed. I go to my local record store, my video store, my coffee place, and my comic book store where I relive my choldhood mental image of what being totally cool would seem like.


But no new comic books on my list of "saves" came out. That just sent the entire day on a strange spin. Really bizzare. Now my whole day has been just a slight bit spooky, you know, just a little bit out of whack.


I could spend this brand new blog space here warming up your ocular cavaty about all the drama, all the bullshit, all the verbal slaps and the mind games and the constant barrage of negative blah blah blah blah blah. I could tell you about how things are between me and the Big HIM. I choose not to. Instead, I choose to move on with my life. I choose to move on with my happy, positive, sober life, and once and for all move the past safely behind me. I could tell you all the latest news about whatever. But I don't have to, nor do I want to. Instead, what I should have done a long fucking time ago, I have decided to move on with my life and let the past float away in the wind of a cool April breeze.


Speaking of moving on, my ex-fiance Deborah just moved from another state thousands of miles away from me to being roughly about an hour and a half drive away from me. Isn't that a strong kick to the solarplexus? I'm not even sure what the fuck a fucking solarplexus is, but that's how I'm feeling. I've often wonder how she's been, if she's still as great and wonderful as I'm afraid she still is. Me, I'm a completely different person from the last time she saw her. Twenty lbs. skinnier, a whole lot quieter, more into music and poetry. Fuck, man, I probably won't even see her ever again. It's just that, after all this time I think that this is the point in my life where I might be able to be cool and friendly and civil to her again.


Out of all the people that I've ever known (relatives excluded), I've known her for the longest, since 1991 I reckon. That's a long time to be friends with someone. All my other friends from junior high, high school, catholic school, my old church days, all of that, none beat the amount of time I've known Deb. That means a lot to me, all that history, all that backstory, all between two people who have been fortunate, and sometimes unfortunate, enough to know one another for a lengthy duration of time. That's really something special and something that I enjoy immensely and something that I would not like to throw away. She means a lot to me and I really treated her like shit back when I was a drunkard. But she's always been the coolest the cool, the archetype woman that I've always sort of dream of, and she's always been some sort of friend to me.


So maybe we'll see each other. So out for a shit and a sandwitch. Eat a bagel and kill some minorities. Beat up a frenchman and dance our dreams away. Or maybe we'll just keep on truckin'. You never know.


Went out on a date two weeks ago. Went good. I wasn't expecting a successful night. I was preparing for Vietnam and I got the fall of Kirkuk and Operation Iraqui Freedom, if you know what I mean. We've talked and gone out since then. But then she went out for the weekend to work on the play she's staging and I had to deal with this whole guy wants to kill me thing. But it's now early thursday morning and I haven't heard from her or been able to reach her since about six days now. I mean, the weekend is over. Is she sending me a message here? Maybe. I don't know.


I know I should be single right now. It's a bit difficult to remain in that frame of mind when you have a young blonde woman's tits in your face and her hand down your pants, but nevertheless, in my head on those quiet times when it's just be and The White Stripes and the hum and rattle of my pimpmobile I realize that after all I've been through this past year/year and a half, that I need to stop chasing ass and try to better yourself, Steve.


I just want a friend a companion, someone I can cuddle with in front of the television with, someone to go to movies with and be all retarded with and go to concerts with. That's it. That's not too tough, is it?

No comments: