A Boner Story

(This story begins in the laundry room of my townhouse)

Me: Hey babe!

(A brief silence)

GF: Yeah!

Me: Where are you?

GF: I'm in the bedroom; on the phone with Mary.

Me: Oh. Tell her I said hi. Have you done any laundry this week?

GF: Yeah. But I was only able to get one load of the whites done... Why?

(Thinking to myself: This chick is unemployed and stays home all day watching episodes of "This American Life", while smoking all of my pot. And she only had time to do one load of laundry? WTF?!)

Me: Damn it! I can't find my favorite shirt. I wore it last weekend to Ryan's barbecue. Do you remember if you washed it?

(Clueless to what I'm talking about.)

GF: Which one? You have so many! Maybe it got mixed up with my pile of dirty clothes in here.

(Making my way towards the bedroom, in hopes to find my missing shirt. Frustrated. Mumbling to myself: "Why haven't I kicked this chick out yet? She hasn't paid rent in months since she's been laid off. She rarely cleans up around the house, let alone after herself. She eats all my otter pops and is notorious for leaving only one pizza roll in the goddamn box. One! One fucking roll! How am I suppose to get full off of just one?! What's worse? She smokes all my pot and neglects to mention she did, only when I ask her to pack me a bowl.")

(Walking through the bedroom door, I head straight to the pile of dirty clothes laying in the corner of the room, without even acknowledging her. She watches intently as I rummage through her smelly bits of unwashed clothing; like a bum goes dumpster diving; in hopes to find some unwanted piece of trash. But, to no avail.)

GF: Not there?

(I ignore her question. Dating for sometime now, she's grown to notice that I'm upset when I talk to her in my irritable tone, without even looking in her direction. I walk over to my dresser in total dismay. I start searching through piles of folded t-shirts and begin tossing the ones out that don't match the description of the one in question. She rolls her eyes and continues her conversation on the phone.)

Me: Babe, you know which one! I've had it since college. It's one of my favorite books when I was growing up.

(No response. Tossing out the last shirt left in the drawer, I place my hands behind my head as if I'm being arrested and look straight up at the ceiling)

Me: Fuck!!! I can't find my "Where The Wild..." (While turning around to face her, I see this...)



Me: Oh. My. God. I love you (Underneath my breath).

Some say that 'make-up' sex is the best kind of sex. I beg to differ. I recommend you try "Frustrated-I-can't-find-my-favorite-shirt-and-you've-been-wearing-it-all-this-time" sex. Then tell me I ain't right.

Break Time!

I will be taking an indefinite break from posting on this blog to focus more on transferring/writing new material for my newest blog: Welcome To Heartbreak City. I'm feeling somewhat lethargic after my trip to Chicago last week and rather not deal with the hassle of juggling two blogs at the moment. In due time, I'll be back on the ball. I promise. I'm not even sure why I'm assuming that I have any readers out there, to update on this current status. But hey. I figured I'd be polite, just in case I miraculously have a couple. I didn't want to disappoint the few that I may have. Sort of like the feeling of anxiously, anticipating having sex with your wife after serving a 10 year prison sentence, only to find out that 'mother nature' has decided to crash your welcome home party. Well, maybe not exactly like that. But you know what I'm mean...

P.S. For those of you who have not had the chance to check out my newest blog, feel free to stop by and tell me what you think. Your feedback is greatly appreciated.


-Signing off from the trenches-

It was just a joke!

Whoa! Whoa! What the fuck are you doing?! Put it down. Why the hell are you doing that to your face? What? What do you mean this is what "I" wanted? Slow down. You mean to tell me you're doing this all because of that stupid joke I made last night, about: "I'd like you more if you always had on make-up." Seriously? I was high as a kite when I said it. It was a joke! What the fuck is wrong with you?... (If she wasn't a total wildcat in bed, I would've left her ass a long time ago)

I simply can't stand people who take a joke, too personally. Come on! That's why it's called a joke; though it may have been said in poor taste; but regardless, a joke. People can be so sensitive. If I really wanted to insult you, I wouldn't act so nonchalant about it and say: "I was just joking". Please. I'm a grown man. I don't have to hide being an asshole. What truly baffles me is the really insecure types, that always take it to a whole another level. The ones that drastically try to alter their appearance--that have you thinking they're not all there--just because they took your comment way out of context. Whether it be something simple as modifying their hair, weight loss/gain, or just going all out extreme with elective surgery. Seriously? Even if it wasn't a joke, are you really gonna let others dictate how you feel about yourself? Cry me a river. 9 out of 10 times, it was a fucking joke! Don't blame the world for your stupid insecurities.

Shot Through The Heart

There's something about this photo that gives me a full blown hard on. Just look at her! So adorable holding the cold steel of a revolver in her palm, in hopes her aim is precise enough to hit the target. There's nothing sexier than a woman who knows how to properly use a firearm. Just something about chicks and guns, that gets me completely wound up. Though the concept of a woman knowing how to protect herself, easily turns me on--I would never teach my girlfriend how to shoot--since there's always that one chick you're not too sure of. You know the type. The chick you purposely fail to mention that you own one, in fear she'll go bat-shit and start using your head as target practice for not putting down the toilet seat when you've finished or smoking the rest of the 'pot,' without asking her first for permission. I don't know about you, but the last thing I want, is to get shot with my own gun. I'm just sayin'.

What's Love Got To Do With It?

So I decided to start another blog called: "Welcome to Heartbreak City", on account of the material I've written in the past that isn't necessarily appropriate for what I usually post here. For those of you that have ever had your heart broken or are experiencing relationship issues and feel like you're all alone, this is a place where you can go and find some closure, one way or another. Whether you need a male's perspective on things or just need an outlet to get your thoughts across, feel free to stop by. Composed in the aspect of a hopeless romantic--it's a collection of my thoughts and encounters, on my persistent quest on finding love--which usually resulted in failure. So don't expect to read some fairy tale, lovey-dovey type bullshit. That sort of romance just doesn't exist in my opinion. Anyway, check it out and let me know what you think.

Confession Pt. 1

Every now and again, I believe I'm going to this so-called Hell for the mistakes I've made when I was younger. Call it guilt or paranoia, but if this place actually does exist--I'm hoping it's one big rager instead of what other religions consider it to be. I would never deem myself as a terrible person who is constantly shoveling out evil deeds on others, but Lord knows I've made my fair share. Whether it be for the way I've treated women like objects during my college years; drug pushing to provide a better life for myself and family, while I was destroying others; or the robberies I've committed when I was kid because I needed money and wasn't eager to work hard for it. I'm not sure why I even feel this way sometimes, since I'm no longer a practicing Catholic. Though, I do consider myself to be an Agnostic theist. Ever since I've retired from the street life, I've walked down this road to redemption for the pain and trouble I may have caused others. But at the same time, I have no regrets on how I've lived my life and wouldn't change a thing. Knowing life could one day unexpectedly revert back to that state it was once in, I have yet to break all my underworld ties. I left the game some years ago because the strain and worry it put on someone I cared so dear for. Every day has been on going battle in my mind to keep moving forward and not digress back to that lifestyle. But I can never knock anyone whosever lived it. Hey, It's made me the man I am today. I just can't help but feel that karma will one day catch up with me...

Sometimes I feel like the company I keep is holding me down. Not that they're intentionally keeping me from what I truly want to do with my life, but more like we've reached the point where there's no longer room for growth. They're not bad people at all. To be honest, they're the complete opposite. But more like my current interests, far exceeds what they want out of life. I fear I'll be stuck doing the same shit every weekend--drinking downtown at the same bars for the past 5 years--when knowing I want to do something more productive and meaningful with my life. I want to travel and see the world. I want to do charity work and help the less fortunate. I'm too young to settle down and give into the social delusion that the next step in life is to get married and start a family. I'm not even remotely sure I want either one--ever. At times, I feel horrible for wanting to make new acquaintances to get away from the monotony of my existing friends...

There are some occasions when you come back into town to visit your friends & family, we end up hanging out even though we haven't spoken in years. We get together not because we plan to, but rather due to the fact we share the same friends. It almost feels forced upon us. However uneasy the situation may be for the both of us, we always seem to pick up from the last time we last saw one another. As if, we're still close friends. Even though we dated years ago and have moved on with our lives, I still hold you in high regards. I hope you know that. There are times during these encounters, that our conversations have turned awkward. Please don't take it personal, it's only because...

I Digress...

For the past 2 weeks, I've been on this sobriety hiatus, to save up some money to finally pay off my credit cards and most importantly, help clean out my system. During this duration, I forgot how nice it feels just to stay home for once and relax in solitude, away from the smoke filled bars I'm so used to frequenting. Whether it be catching up on some good reading, watching documentaries on the History/Discovery channel, or just watching a classic movie on TCM--it felt good to get away from the constant attempts to drown my liver in alcohol. Not to mention I started feeling sick during this time, which was weird since I hardly get sick, but I thought it necessary to let my body recover for a while. As I think of it now, the time off from partying didn't just help my body recover--but has also helped me shed a couple of pounds off my belly from drinking too much beer. I have stuck to my new routine of working out and even started jogging a little bit, to help get me back in to shape. I was finally feeling healthier than I have for the past couple of weeks...

But this past Thursday, I relapsed. It was my friend Christina's 30th birthday and felt like I should at least stop by her work to wish her a happy birthday, since it's been a few weeks--since we've last seen or talked to each other. Did I mention she bar tends at Matador? Well, she does. Knowing fully the likelihood of me going out to a bar without having a few drinks were slim, I figured I owed it to myself to enjoy a night out and break my streak. There were times during the day I considered backing out and sticking to my new routine, but the more she updated me on how horrible her day was going and wished her birthday were already over, didn't help sway my decision on staying home. In effort to cheer her up, I decided to stop by Matador while she was working and surprise her with a little present. Before I headed downtown, I stopped by Publix and picked up a box of Hostess cupcakes and birthday candles to use for a birthday cake. You ask why I would do this? It's because I'm not an asshole 24/7. I'd like to think my random acts of kindness can make a difference in someone's life, regardless, how big the gesture. Plus when I met her earlier this year, she informed me of some bad birthdays she experience from her childhood and conveyed why she didn't like celebrating the day at all. So hey, why not try to make a difference in someones life, especially on their birthday. Maybe my feeble attempt to surprise her would rewrite how she felt about her born day. To say the least, it didn't make everything better, but it helped... I'm okay with that.

I did end up drinking a lot that night, to the point it took me almost 12 hours the next day to fully sober up. Ridiculous, huh? Hence the title of this post. I also came up with the stupid idea that avoiding beer and

drinking liquor for the rest of the night, would help curb some weight gain from my alcohol consumption. Haha. Anyway, good times were had. It was good to get out of the house and see a few friends, while listening to some good music. No regrets here. It's a new week and I'm ready to start over again...

Completely off tangent, I did manage to also smoke this weekend. I rarely touch the stuff now-a-days and when I do, I usually get extremely paranoid. Sometimes to the point I don't even enjoy it and question why I did it in the first place. This time I got to the point I thought I was really being watched!

After spending all day Friday recovering from the previous night, Saturday afternoon I headed to the beach with a couple of friends to enjoy a beach day. Unfortunately by the time we finished eating at Ron Jon's, a thunderstorm had already rolled in and ruined our chances of enjoying our fun in the sun, before it even got started. FML. I forget Florida summers coerce it's inhabitants to wake up earlier in the day to have an opportunity to bask in the sun, before afternoon showers move in. Weird thing happened on the drive back when we got caught in the middle of this huge thunderstorm, where it's raining so heavy and you can't even see 5 ft. in front of you. I swear Florida has the worst torrential rain, ever! Anyway, The Foo Fighter's song: "D.O.A." came on the radio while we were driving thru it. I seriously felt like I was on some "Final Destination" type shit. It seriously creeped me out. Luckily there weren't too many cars on the road during the time and we made it home safe and sound. Whew!

Tonight, I went to the movies and watched "Away We Go" with a friend. I thought it was a cute film that dealt with finding peace of mind and security while trying to raise a family. I swear Sam Mendes makes some beautiful, yet insightful indie flicks. I also received "Revolutionary Road" in the mail from Netflix this weekend, but have yet to watch it.

I've been waiting since Sundance to finally watch this flick! The 31st can't come soon enough...



On a good note, I maybe going to Chicago at the end of August since this month's trip was scrubbed. I can't wait! Hopefully everyone had a great weekend. If not, too bad.


-Signing off from the trenches-