As fans of the celebrated blog know, I have a penchant for coming up with double secret code names for those that I have played or would like to play 'Fun Part Touching.' It is all well documented and duly noted.
It has been brought to my attention through back channels that I have been code named. Apparently operatives in the Female Intelligence Agency (FIA) have taken to refer to me as non other than 'Mr. Snarky.'
Being code named can mean only one thing. Out there, somewhere, Beneath the pale moonlight, Someones thinking of me, And loving me tonight. A question remains, who? Who is it out there that wants to play Fun Part Touching with me? This entire matter bears investigation.
Opening back channels,
42
Monday 25 August 2008
Wednesday 20 August 2008
Enough is Enough!
Jen, seriously, when are you going to come to your senses and give me a call?
Sure the whole thing went south with Brad. Divorce happens, believe me, I know. Since then you have been running around with all of these other losers. Male models and musician types sound all well and good but I can't help wondering why you are wasting your time.
Seriously Ms. Jennifer Aniston, give me a call. Hell I would even take a call from 'your people' if it meant us getting a chance to go out on a date. You really should come to the District for a visit. I would be more than willing to take you around town.
For starters we could take a lovely stroll around my neighborhood and you could take in the sites and scents as you never have before. Sure some of the Latino men would stare and point, I mean what self respecting heterosexual male wouldn't be taken back with your stunning beauty, but I would be there to give them the kind of look that says, "Si, esta mami es conmigo."
Our walk would take us through several of the NW DC neighborhoods until we find ourselves on historic U. ST. We could stop in for a beer at a number of fine establishments. And for dinner?
For dinner I would take you to Ben's Chili Bowl. How many times has someone taken you to a historic landmark for a bite to eat? Without a doubt you have come to enjoy champagne taste but I dare say that you haven't lived until you've enjoyed a half-smoke with chili cheese fries and washed it down with a tasty cherry slushie.
Seriously Jen, when are you going to admit that you have been looking for a guy like me? I mean what is there not to love? I am single, I live in a basement apartment, and I currently have a job (albeit part time)working in a career that I desperately cannot stand. What about those facts does not point to me having the total package?
Go ahead and keep fooling yourself into thinking that there is someone else out there that can offer you more than I can. At first, you denying our love was kind of cute but lately it is starting to get a little annoying. John Mayer? Really? He dated Jessica Simpson for Christ's sake. Another bright side to dating me; I have never dated anyone remotely famous so you will never have to deal with relentless comparisons to any other starlets.
My eyes will only be for you Jennifer Aniston. If you ever want me to shout it from the rooftops I certainly will. I would even make a web page as an homage to our love. Of course I haven't made the website yet, because that would be a little creepy seeing how I don't even really know you.
Anyway, give it some thought but I am giving you fair warning. I can't say that I am going to wait around forever, there is a total hottie that works in the accounting department for the company that I work for and word around the office is that she is open to playing the old 'In/Out' with me. Oh, who am I kidding? I would dump her in an instant for the chance to drink your bath water.
Waiting for my phone to ring,
42
Sure the whole thing went south with Brad. Divorce happens, believe me, I know. Since then you have been running around with all of these other losers. Male models and musician types sound all well and good but I can't help wondering why you are wasting your time.
Seriously Ms. Jennifer Aniston, give me a call. Hell I would even take a call from 'your people' if it meant us getting a chance to go out on a date. You really should come to the District for a visit. I would be more than willing to take you around town.
For starters we could take a lovely stroll around my neighborhood and you could take in the sites and scents as you never have before. Sure some of the Latino men would stare and point, I mean what self respecting heterosexual male wouldn't be taken back with your stunning beauty, but I would be there to give them the kind of look that says, "Si, esta mami es conmigo."
Our walk would take us through several of the NW DC neighborhoods until we find ourselves on historic U. ST. We could stop in for a beer at a number of fine establishments. And for dinner?
For dinner I would take you to Ben's Chili Bowl. How many times has someone taken you to a historic landmark for a bite to eat? Without a doubt you have come to enjoy champagne taste but I dare say that you haven't lived until you've enjoyed a half-smoke with chili cheese fries and washed it down with a tasty cherry slushie.
Seriously Jen, when are you going to admit that you have been looking for a guy like me? I mean what is there not to love? I am single, I live in a basement apartment, and I currently have a job (albeit part time)working in a career that I desperately cannot stand. What about those facts does not point to me having the total package?
Go ahead and keep fooling yourself into thinking that there is someone else out there that can offer you more than I can. At first, you denying our love was kind of cute but lately it is starting to get a little annoying. John Mayer? Really? He dated Jessica Simpson for Christ's sake. Another bright side to dating me; I have never dated anyone remotely famous so you will never have to deal with relentless comparisons to any other starlets.
My eyes will only be for you Jennifer Aniston. If you ever want me to shout it from the rooftops I certainly will. I would even make a web page as an homage to our love. Of course I haven't made the website yet, because that would be a little creepy seeing how I don't even really know you.
Anyway, give it some thought but I am giving you fair warning. I can't say that I am going to wait around forever, there is a total hottie that works in the accounting department for the company that I work for and word around the office is that she is open to playing the old 'In/Out' with me. Oh, who am I kidding? I would dump her in an instant for the chance to drink your bath water.
Waiting for my phone to ring,
42
Monday 18 August 2008
I'll Write a Blog About It
Aside from being an all-around great guy, being the author of 'So...Yeah' comes with humble perks. While it is nice to be able to get a few rounds bought for you at the bar during a night out on the town, there are better trappings of being known on a global scale.
That's right, groupies.
Whether it is the blog or my aforementioned great guyness, for whatever reason the ladies just can't seem to resist the allure that is JrWorthy.
Allow me to set the stage. Friday night and of course the drinks were pouring. I admit it, that's just how I indulge. As fate would have it, throngs of fans of 'So...Yeah' were milling about, men and women alike, the lust in the air was palpable.
Of course the men had no shot, I just don't bend that way. On the other hand, the ladies...well let's just say they were almost falling over one another to get to me. (Well maybe they weren't falling over one another to get to me exactly, it could have been the alcohol - Oh what am I saying? They were practically ready to kill each other for the chance to just sit next to me even if it was to be the most fleeting of moments.)
All the cat fighting aside, I will readily admit that hearing all of the lavish praise does get tiresome after a bit. The compliments and comments were the same as they always are:
- "Oh my god, that is a tin of Altoids in your pocket!"
- "The face you make after doing a shot. It looks like you are about to throw up. Just plain sexy."
- "If you don't take your hand off my ass I am going to talk to the bouncer."
I am sure many of the male readers out there have trouble contemplating what it is like to be such a sought after commodity. To this I can only say, sucks to be you.
Moving on, the night was getting late and I saw no need to retire to my domicile alone. It was time to select which lady was going to be graced with my presence for the remainder of the evening. As I was making my way towards the door all of the adoring fans were waiting in line.
Down the line I went and with each eager fan that I passed smiling faces turned to frowns until I picked that one lucky girl. "You. You're coming home with me." Sure I could have taken a few of them home and run the floor like Magic ran Showtime at the Forum but sometimes I like to let some of the other guys in the bar have a shot at disappointing a lady.
We got back to my place and right off the bat clothes are coming off. I get drunk and have sex, that is what I do. All of the touching and rubbing, deep passionate kisses, you get the idea.
Not so fast. Just as I am going in for some of my patented amorous maneuvers she stops and says, "We are not going to have sex." (the sound of a needle being harshly removed from a spinning record)
"What?!?"
"We are not going to have sex."
"Why not?"
"Because if we have sex, you will write a blog about it."
Flabbergasted. WTF? Not being one to beg, I let that shit slide. If a woman doesn't wish to experience new levels of sexual bliss with yours truly, her loss. What she did not and still does not realize is that I would have kept my mouth completely sealed about any of our sexual escapades. However, since we didn't have sex she is in one way right. If we would have just gotten down to playing the old 'in-out, in-out' I would have simply made a mental note of the favorite techniques that make her coo. Now, she has left me with no other alternative other than to write a blog about it. Tease.
Would rather not be blogging about it,
42
That's right, groupies.
Whether it is the blog or my aforementioned great guyness, for whatever reason the ladies just can't seem to resist the allure that is JrWorthy.
Allow me to set the stage. Friday night and of course the drinks were pouring. I admit it, that's just how I indulge. As fate would have it, throngs of fans of 'So...Yeah' were milling about, men and women alike, the lust in the air was palpable.
Of course the men had no shot, I just don't bend that way. On the other hand, the ladies...well let's just say they were almost falling over one another to get to me. (Well maybe they weren't falling over one another to get to me exactly, it could have been the alcohol - Oh what am I saying? They were practically ready to kill each other for the chance to just sit next to me even if it was to be the most fleeting of moments.)
All the cat fighting aside, I will readily admit that hearing all of the lavish praise does get tiresome after a bit. The compliments and comments were the same as they always are:
- "Oh my god, that is a tin of Altoids in your pocket!"
- "The face you make after doing a shot. It looks like you are about to throw up. Just plain sexy."
- "If you don't take your hand off my ass I am going to talk to the bouncer."
I am sure many of the male readers out there have trouble contemplating what it is like to be such a sought after commodity. To this I can only say, sucks to be you.
Moving on, the night was getting late and I saw no need to retire to my domicile alone. It was time to select which lady was going to be graced with my presence for the remainder of the evening. As I was making my way towards the door all of the adoring fans were waiting in line.
Down the line I went and with each eager fan that I passed smiling faces turned to frowns until I picked that one lucky girl. "You. You're coming home with me." Sure I could have taken a few of them home and run the floor like Magic ran Showtime at the Forum but sometimes I like to let some of the other guys in the bar have a shot at disappointing a lady.
We got back to my place and right off the bat clothes are coming off. I get drunk and have sex, that is what I do. All of the touching and rubbing, deep passionate kisses, you get the idea.
Not so fast. Just as I am going in for some of my patented amorous maneuvers she stops and says, "We are not going to have sex." (the sound of a needle being harshly removed from a spinning record)
"What?!?"
"We are not going to have sex."
"Why not?"
"Because if we have sex, you will write a blog about it."
Flabbergasted. WTF? Not being one to beg, I let that shit slide. If a woman doesn't wish to experience new levels of sexual bliss with yours truly, her loss. What she did not and still does not realize is that I would have kept my mouth completely sealed about any of our sexual escapades. However, since we didn't have sex she is in one way right. If we would have just gotten down to playing the old 'in-out, in-out' I would have simply made a mental note of the favorite techniques that make her coo. Now, she has left me with no other alternative other than to write a blog about it. Tease.
Would rather not be blogging about it,
42
Monday 11 August 2008
What I Do
Seeing how I live in DC, there is always one go-to question that everyone in this city likes to throw out upon making a new aquaintence. "So, what do you do?" or its closely related cousin, "Where do you work?"
On the surface that question really irratates me. As I mentioned, and fans of 'So...Yeah' already know, I live in DC. To those of you who don't know the city, for the most part it can be one of the most shallow cities to live. What people do and who they work for has somehow become the unit of measure by which everyone judges everyone else.
I have to admit it, I use the question as a measure as well. Guilty, Hi pot you sure are black. The difference between me and the average asshole that asks me the question? First, I never ask what people do. The fuck I care if you are a staffer to Senator Ted Stevens (R-AK)? (side note - if I actually met a Stevens staffer I would without a doubt rip into them and ask if they ever use the Series of Tubes.)
Second, if someone asks me the question, right off the bat, they are a douche. To me it signals the fact that these people don't live for the anything beyond what they do beyond 9 to 5. Am I being a tad bit judgemental? Yes, hello Kettle!
Anyway, What I do for work is not nearly as interesting as what I do when I am at work. Here is a loose timeline of my 'work' day:
9:15-9:30 - I stroll in a little after start time. I use the side door so Lumbergh doesn't see me.
9:30-10:30 - check work email, check personal email. Visit Craigslist for a little RnR. Again this being DC and all, you would think that there would be a few intelligent people posting on the board. It just isn't so.
10:30 Already? Time for a smoke break.
10:35-12 or 12:30 - Surf the web and look for news on my beloved West Virginia Football team. Also there are several return trips to the CL for the RnR in search of intelligent and or humorous post.
12:30 - Lunch for an hour or so.
1:30-3:00 - Internet, Internet, Internet.
3:00-3:05 - I like cigarettes.
3:05-5ish - Internet, Internet, Internet.
When I say Internet, Internet, Internet, I really mean to say the Internets. According to President Bush the Internets are the place to find info and while plurality could simply imply two or more, I figure saying it three times gives it the extra umph for emphasis.
So what are some of my favorite things on the internets? Good question. Listed below are some of the places I like to visit on any given day.
Failblog - for when I want to feel better about my shortcomings.
IDLYITW - I can admit it, I enjoy a little celebrity gossip. I just wish they were nicer to Rachelle, she never hurt anyone.
Urbandictionary.com - Got to keep up with those young whipper snappers and stay fresh on their lingo.
The Washington Post - Stay informed.
Craigslist - I like to keep it local. Despite my best efforts I never successfully have a missed connection. Maybe it is because I don't look strangers in the eye.
Maddox - Do yourself a favor and dig through the archives, pure gold.
Oh and So...Yeah of course, but for some reason there are hardly any updates or they come months apart.
Please don't think these are the only sights I visit. It can get much uglier, much much uglier. Please only click that link if you are brave, very brave. Consider it a warning. For the love of God don't click the link.
Anythng else? Oh how about this one?
So no, I don't do much 'work' at my job.
Surfing the nets,
42
On the surface that question really irratates me. As I mentioned, and fans of 'So...Yeah' already know, I live in DC. To those of you who don't know the city, for the most part it can be one of the most shallow cities to live. What people do and who they work for has somehow become the unit of measure by which everyone judges everyone else.
I have to admit it, I use the question as a measure as well. Guilty, Hi pot you sure are black. The difference between me and the average asshole that asks me the question? First, I never ask what people do. The fuck I care if you are a staffer to Senator Ted Stevens (R-AK)? (side note - if I actually met a Stevens staffer I would without a doubt rip into them and ask if they ever use the Series of Tubes.)
Second, if someone asks me the question, right off the bat, they are a douche. To me it signals the fact that these people don't live for the anything beyond what they do beyond 9 to 5. Am I being a tad bit judgemental? Yes, hello Kettle!
Anyway, What I do for work is not nearly as interesting as what I do when I am at work. Here is a loose timeline of my 'work' day:
9:15-9:30 - I stroll in a little after start time. I use the side door so Lumbergh doesn't see me.
9:30-10:30 - check work email, check personal email. Visit Craigslist for a little RnR. Again this being DC and all, you would think that there would be a few intelligent people posting on the board. It just isn't so.
10:30 Already? Time for a smoke break.
10:35-12 or 12:30 - Surf the web and look for news on my beloved West Virginia Football team. Also there are several return trips to the CL for the RnR in search of intelligent and or humorous post.
12:30 - Lunch for an hour or so.
1:30-3:00 - Internet, Internet, Internet.
3:00-3:05 - I like cigarettes.
3:05-5ish - Internet, Internet, Internet.
When I say Internet, Internet, Internet, I really mean to say the Internets. According to President Bush the Internets are the place to find info and while plurality could simply imply two or more, I figure saying it three times gives it the extra umph for emphasis.
So what are some of my favorite things on the internets? Good question. Listed below are some of the places I like to visit on any given day.
Failblog - for when I want to feel better about my shortcomings.
IDLYITW - I can admit it, I enjoy a little celebrity gossip. I just wish they were nicer to Rachelle, she never hurt anyone.
Urbandictionary.com - Got to keep up with those young whipper snappers and stay fresh on their lingo.
The Washington Post - Stay informed.
Craigslist - I like to keep it local. Despite my best efforts I never successfully have a missed connection. Maybe it is because I don't look strangers in the eye.
Maddox - Do yourself a favor and dig through the archives, pure gold.
Oh and So...Yeah of course, but for some reason there are hardly any updates or they come months apart.
Please don't think these are the only sights I visit. It can get much uglier, much much uglier. Please only click that link if you are brave, very brave. Consider it a warning. For the love of God don't click the link.
Anythng else? Oh how about this one?
So no, I don't do much 'work' at my job.
Surfing the nets,
42
The Song Shuffle
Like a ton of bricks life hit me a with a stinging jab as I walked down the street on my way to walk this morning. The iPod was on shuffle and on comes 'God Only Knows' by the Beach Boys from their Petsounds album.
Now before you gasp with disbelief with the uneasy thought, the Beach Boys?, Petsounds is considered a fucking masterpiece and for some reason the only album by the Beach Boys that folks from the left coast have never seem to have ever heard of before. Please excuse the digression.
Anyway, the lyrics stung me:
I may not always love you
But long as there are stars above you
You never need to doubt it
Ill make you so sure about it
God only knows what I'd be without you
If you should ever leave me
Though life would still go on believe me
The world could show nothing to me
So what good would living do me
God only knows what I'd be without you
God only knows what I'd be without you
If you should ever leave me
Well life would still go on believe me
The world could show nothing to me
So what good would living do me
God only knows what I'd be without you
God only knows what I'd be without you
God only knows
God only knows what I'd be without you
God only knows what I'd be without you
God only knows
(repeat)
As it turns out, God and I have something in common. I know what I am without you. Sadly it seems like I am nothing more than a promiscuous philanderer given to bouts of profuse drinking to the point of debauchery. This revelation came on my way to work once I was sucker punched by the random nature of an mp3 player's algorithm for determining which digital audio file to 'play' next. God only knows? Please... let's review the recent behavior:
1) Went to a really nice dinner, drank copious amounts of wine, had sex.
2) Out of town visitor, drank enough to possibly kill a pony, had sex.
3) Went out of town, Jameson, had sex.
4) Went to a wedding, drank, had Clintonian sex.
Some folks may ask, what's the big deal? Lots of drinks, fun. Multiple sex partners, HIGH FIVE! But I have to stop and ask, is this it? Is this all there is? Am I forever doomed to live a loveless life with no real companion and one in which I replace the closeness of intimacy for a few fleeting moments of physical bliss in the form of unadulterated and unbridled sex? I used to think that you and I, we, could be so much more than what we have become. What have we become? We have become two people that don't even speak much less recognize that we spent any meaningful time with one another. We gave it our best shot. It just didn't work out. Hearing that song really fucked me up.
That was until...lunch.
Lunch time and I headed out for a short walk to pick up some food, falafel and Moby Dicks is pretty good. Don't get me wrong, I prefer Amsterdam Falafel on 18th in the Ad Mo but for today Moby Dicks did the trick.
Wouldn't you know the algorithm folks' programming hit me again, Bob Marley - "No Woman, No Cry" The music alone was enough to long for a sandy beach and a warm Caribbean breeze. Listening to the simple lyrics made me realize, I am doing A- fucking-OKAY.
Each day is my own and how I spend it is up to me. If I choose to drink to the point of liver failure and have sex with women that may or may not be married, then so be it. Do you know why? Because everything is going to be alright.
Shuffling my feet,
42
Now before you gasp with disbelief with the uneasy thought, the Beach Boys?, Petsounds is considered a fucking masterpiece and for some reason the only album by the Beach Boys that folks from the left coast have never seem to have ever heard of before. Please excuse the digression.
Anyway, the lyrics stung me:
I may not always love you
But long as there are stars above you
You never need to doubt it
Ill make you so sure about it
God only knows what I'd be without you
If you should ever leave me
Though life would still go on believe me
The world could show nothing to me
So what good would living do me
God only knows what I'd be without you
God only knows what I'd be without you
If you should ever leave me
Well life would still go on believe me
The world could show nothing to me
So what good would living do me
God only knows what I'd be without you
God only knows what I'd be without you
God only knows
God only knows what I'd be without you
God only knows what I'd be without you
God only knows
(repeat)
As it turns out, God and I have something in common. I know what I am without you. Sadly it seems like I am nothing more than a promiscuous philanderer given to bouts of profuse drinking to the point of debauchery. This revelation came on my way to work once I was sucker punched by the random nature of an mp3 player's algorithm for determining which digital audio file to 'play' next. God only knows? Please... let's review the recent behavior:
1) Went to a really nice dinner, drank copious amounts of wine, had sex.
2) Out of town visitor, drank enough to possibly kill a pony, had sex.
3) Went out of town, Jameson, had sex.
4) Went to a wedding, drank, had Clintonian sex.
Some folks may ask, what's the big deal? Lots of drinks, fun. Multiple sex partners, HIGH FIVE! But I have to stop and ask, is this it? Is this all there is? Am I forever doomed to live a loveless life with no real companion and one in which I replace the closeness of intimacy for a few fleeting moments of physical bliss in the form of unadulterated and unbridled sex? I used to think that you and I, we, could be so much more than what we have become. What have we become? We have become two people that don't even speak much less recognize that we spent any meaningful time with one another. We gave it our best shot. It just didn't work out. Hearing that song really fucked me up.
That was until...lunch.
Lunch time and I headed out for a short walk to pick up some food, falafel and Moby Dicks is pretty good. Don't get me wrong, I prefer Amsterdam Falafel on 18th in the Ad Mo but for today Moby Dicks did the trick.
Wouldn't you know the algorithm folks' programming hit me again, Bob Marley - "No Woman, No Cry" The music alone was enough to long for a sandy beach and a warm Caribbean breeze. Listening to the simple lyrics made me realize, I am doing A- fucking-OKAY.
Each day is my own and how I spend it is up to me. If I choose to drink to the point of liver failure and have sex with women that may or may not be married, then so be it. Do you know why? Because everything is going to be alright.
Shuffling my feet,
42
Friday 20 June 2008
A Fun Night Ahead
Close friend of 'So...Yeah', Jaded Bitterman, will be at it again tonight as his latest band will be hitting the stage at the Artery in Alexandria, VA. The point of this blog is to let you readers out there know that there will be an update to this entry in order to provide a recap of the nights activity.
The plan so far:
1) Leave work early. Sure I could use the money but drinks are waiting.
2) Meet Moeshness at the Big Hunt. To tell the truth I will probably get there first.
3) Drink my face off for a good three hours.
4) Find some sort of transport to Northern Virginia.
5) Drink what is left of my face off.
6) Stare blankly at some art.
7) Drink more.
8) Listen to live music.
9) Drink even more.
After that? Well, I will update you.
The plan so far:
1) Leave work early. Sure I could use the money but drinks are waiting.
2) Meet Moeshness at the Big Hunt. To tell the truth I will probably get there first.
3) Drink my face off for a good three hours.
4) Find some sort of transport to Northern Virginia.
5) Drink what is left of my face off.
6) Stare blankly at some art.
7) Drink more.
8) Listen to live music.
9) Drink even more.
After that? Well, I will update you.
Even the Best Laid Plans
Update to the blog.
Well every item on a previously posted list has been checked/crossed off.
1) The money has been gotten and I am having an absolutely fan-fucking-tastic time blowing through it. That takes me to item #2.
2) Took an abbreviated API trip. While the original plan had me going to Japan, Thailand and an undetermined tropical island getaway, I was only able to make it to Japan and Thailand. Japan is an amazing place and my trip blew away most of my preconceived notions I had of the country before I left. To quote Namond Brice, "The shit is right, Yo!"
As for Thailand, also known as the land of a thousand smiles, it is really fucking hot there. The best way to describe it, scrotum sack chaffing hot. Female readers may not be able to relate to that comment given that they are free of scrotum sacks but I imagine they know the discomfort involved with chaffing. Aside from the searing pain I experienced in my nether region, I recommend that everyone who has the opportunity to visit Bangkok should jump at the chance. If you ever get the chance you should stop by the Rain Hut on Soi 18 in Sukhumvit. Mokey will serve up cold ones and you should be sure to shout out 'Hello Hansum' to all of the tourist men as they walk by. All of the girls at the bar will love it.
3) Dogbird...even the best laid plans.
Well every item on a previously posted list has been checked/crossed off.
1) The money has been gotten and I am having an absolutely fan-fucking-tastic time blowing through it. That takes me to item #2.
2) Took an abbreviated API trip. While the original plan had me going to Japan, Thailand and an undetermined tropical island getaway, I was only able to make it to Japan and Thailand. Japan is an amazing place and my trip blew away most of my preconceived notions I had of the country before I left. To quote Namond Brice, "The shit is right, Yo!"
As for Thailand, also known as the land of a thousand smiles, it is really fucking hot there. The best way to describe it, scrotum sack chaffing hot. Female readers may not be able to relate to that comment given that they are free of scrotum sacks but I imagine they know the discomfort involved with chaffing. Aside from the searing pain I experienced in my nether region, I recommend that everyone who has the opportunity to visit Bangkok should jump at the chance. If you ever get the chance you should stop by the Rain Hut on Soi 18 in Sukhumvit. Mokey will serve up cold ones and you should be sure to shout out 'Hello Hansum' to all of the tourist men as they walk by. All of the girls at the bar will love it.
3) Dogbird...even the best laid plans.
Thursday 10 April 2008
Totally Random
Here are some of the hot topics churning through the gears.
- I am not much of a writer these days beyond 'So...Yeah' but I am working on changing that. One could guess that this blog is an exercise in working on the discipline needed for the writing of extended pieces. In the last few months I have come to know of a few people that I have met who are aspiring children's books writers. While I have my own stance on children that many fans of the blog are keenly aware of, I have to say 'hats off' to any one that wants to give those little germ monkeys something to keep there minds occupied with other than some stupid show like the Wiggles, Teletubbies, or that lovable purple dinosaur Barney. Who doesn't like dinosaurs? I know I don't give a shit about them.
Perhaps my sentiment for the wee-ones has lead to the genesis in my own mind what I consider would be one of the best characters in a children's story. This character would represent a modern day ogre and not like that laughable and lovable Shrek. I am talking about a scary looking oafish brute but this ogre would be different than the flesh eating humanoid monster made famous in so many early works of literature. No this ogre would be different. Instead of eating children he would steal their stuffed animals in the cover of darkness as the children slept. His clothing would consist of only the pelts of the stolen stuff animals. Can you imagine how scary that would be for children? The thought of their first and very best friend and shoulder of comfort being used as the clothing for a horrible monster? Instant classic!
Sure in the end one of or a few of the children would wind up vanquishing the evil villian but I think you would have to admit, it would be a great character.
- A good friend of 'So...Yeah', JadedBitterman, recently lent yours truly Season One of the HBO Series 'Deadwood.' Holy fucking shit there is a fucking load of cursing in that show. Now to those of you who have not had the pleasure to have ever made my acquaintance, I am not one to blush when I hear what I like to call swear words. Every other word in that show is cocksucker. It is always something like somebody informing someone else that 'You are a cocksucking whore cunt cocksucker!' Total fucking disregard for the Queen's English.
And I love it!
While I did watch the entire season in two days while I should have been job hunting I can say that I am only 50/50 on the show itself. Overall I kind of like it but part of me is not entirely sold on all of the characters or their story lines. But given all of the swearing and atmosphere of testosterone, I have to say I do find it enjoyable at times.
Of course when you overload yourself on the show and then go out for a night of enjoying spirits, some of the shows finer diction tends to find a way out.
Allow me to set the stage.
I went out last night to Polly's on U. Street. If you have never been, you should stop by sometime. The crowd is very relaxed and generally a great mix of the neighborhood. Before I go any further I should let it be known that I had already had enjoyed a half of a bottle of wine during dinner. As I walk through the bar making a few hellos to some folks I make my way to the bar. Sitting next to an empty stool was none other than JadedBitterman. I sit down and we start with the 'What's up Yo?' turning to the bartender I ask for a Jameson on the rocks. She bears nothing but bad news and informs me that Jaded himself had just finished off the last of the Jameson. Taken back I turned to my friend and all I could say, "You Fucking Cocksucker! I can't believe you finished the fucking Jameson. Cocksucker!"
Well since I am not that good of a catholic anyway I settled for Bushmills.
- I am not much of a writer these days beyond 'So...Yeah' but I am working on changing that. One could guess that this blog is an exercise in working on the discipline needed for the writing of extended pieces. In the last few months I have come to know of a few people that I have met who are aspiring children's books writers. While I have my own stance on children that many fans of the blog are keenly aware of, I have to say 'hats off' to any one that wants to give those little germ monkeys something to keep there minds occupied with other than some stupid show like the Wiggles, Teletubbies, or that lovable purple dinosaur Barney. Who doesn't like dinosaurs? I know I don't give a shit about them.
Perhaps my sentiment for the wee-ones has lead to the genesis in my own mind what I consider would be one of the best characters in a children's story. This character would represent a modern day ogre and not like that laughable and lovable Shrek. I am talking about a scary looking oafish brute but this ogre would be different than the flesh eating humanoid monster made famous in so many early works of literature. No this ogre would be different. Instead of eating children he would steal their stuffed animals in the cover of darkness as the children slept. His clothing would consist of only the pelts of the stolen stuff animals. Can you imagine how scary that would be for children? The thought of their first and very best friend and shoulder of comfort being used as the clothing for a horrible monster? Instant classic!
Sure in the end one of or a few of the children would wind up vanquishing the evil villian but I think you would have to admit, it would be a great character.
- A good friend of 'So...Yeah', JadedBitterman, recently lent yours truly Season One of the HBO Series 'Deadwood.' Holy fucking shit there is a fucking load of cursing in that show. Now to those of you who have not had the pleasure to have ever made my acquaintance, I am not one to blush when I hear what I like to call swear words. Every other word in that show is cocksucker. It is always something like somebody informing someone else that 'You are a cocksucking whore cunt cocksucker!' Total fucking disregard for the Queen's English.
And I love it!
While I did watch the entire season in two days while I should have been job hunting I can say that I am only 50/50 on the show itself. Overall I kind of like it but part of me is not entirely sold on all of the characters or their story lines. But given all of the swearing and atmosphere of testosterone, I have to say I do find it enjoyable at times.
Of course when you overload yourself on the show and then go out for a night of enjoying spirits, some of the shows finer diction tends to find a way out.
Allow me to set the stage.
I went out last night to Polly's on U. Street. If you have never been, you should stop by sometime. The crowd is very relaxed and generally a great mix of the neighborhood. Before I go any further I should let it be known that I had already had enjoyed a half of a bottle of wine during dinner. As I walk through the bar making a few hellos to some folks I make my way to the bar. Sitting next to an empty stool was none other than JadedBitterman. I sit down and we start with the 'What's up Yo?' turning to the bartender I ask for a Jameson on the rocks. She bears nothing but bad news and informs me that Jaded himself had just finished off the last of the Jameson. Taken back I turned to my friend and all I could say, "You Fucking Cocksucker! I can't believe you finished the fucking Jameson. Cocksucker!"
Well since I am not that good of a catholic anyway I settled for Bushmills.
Monday 24 March 2008
Jesus H.
Easter has come and gone almost the same way the individual that is celebrated. Yes, 'So...Yeah' fans I am talking about none other than our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. I do not and most likely will not claim to be a devout follower of Christianity but I figure that I should share my own special 'Easter/Jesus' story.
Just last week I was walking in my neighborhood of Mt. Pleasant. For those of you that are not familiar with the many fine neighborhoods in the District of Columbia, Mt. Pleasant is a quite neighborhood nestled between Adams Morgan, known for its rich nightlife and climbing rents, and Columbia Heights. The 'CH', as one of my friends Grand Ma calls it, is known for the efforts of city officials that are doing their darnedest to revitalize the once strong neighborhood.
Way back when Columbia Heights was a bustling community for some of the wealthiest of DC residents. If you want to read up more about the CH go nuts. Anyhow, somewhere between then and the current revitalization shit done fucked that place up. Now, however, hope is horizon with the construction and completion of a great big retail shopping center. Perhaps in the future I will pontificate about the likelihood that DC's revitalization efforts are likely to fail. The reason I don't wish to do that now is because this story is about Jesus.
Ah, now back to Jesus. So there I was walking down Mt. Pleasant St. and on the sidewalk a small group of people were gathered on the corner ahead. Were these people refuges from the great savings made available at the recently opened Target department store? Were they fleeing the CH to get away from all of the fresh white faces that would have never dared venture so high up 14th St had it not been possible to purchase cheaply made mass produced inventory from the factories of China? As I got closer I could see these were not your garden variety crack heads looking for spare change, in fact, they were not illicit drug users at all. These folks were high only on the love of the lord.
Now I have no problems with religious folks, if Jesus is their drug of choice so be it. Those with the love of the Lord in their hearts are much better than a drooling homeless person with fresh spray paint around their nose and mouth from the last round of huffing a fresh can of Plasti-kote.
When I reached their location one of the fine Christians in the pack handed me a flier and told me about a special offer if I chose to attend their churches Easter Mass. The Church was named the Third Church of Christ. Right off the bat I have to admit that I was not aware that churches had a ranking system because I have heard of the First Church of God several times in my years. Hearing the name made me wonder if there was some sort of ranking system similar to college football out there for the Christian faith and its places of worship. I guess when I think about it, you would have the religious journalist out there with there own ranking system while all of the pastors, reverends and priest involved in their own ranking system. Shoot, I keep getting distracted from sharing my story.
So this faithful follower of the Lord told me that if I was to attend one of their Easter services I would be eligible to win a free Apple ipod. Got that, me! I could win a free ipod just for attending someone babble on and on about how a really long time ago the son of God died on the cross for our sins and then a few days later he arose from the dead and ascended into heaven. Just think of it, a free ipod. I think there must be something going on in the hallowed halls of the Third Church of Christ because it seems as if the elder council has stooped to a fairly low level if they are offering cheaply made mass produced electronics from a factory in China over eternal salvation in the afterlife. Is pack-a-pew day not filling the seats like it used to?
So what did I decide, a shot at an ipod or sleeping in until well after 10 AM Sunday morning? Well when it came down to it and I read the fine print on the flier it said that I would have to indeed be present to win (bummer) and that the drawing for the ipod would be held following fellowship in the rectory. The real let down, it was an ipod 'shuffle' and only a one gig model at that. In the end I told him that I already owned an ipod 'Classic' which is like 100 times better than the puny little 'shuffle.' Had it been a 'Nano' then maybe I would have thought about it but since they didn't even throw in a possible shot at salvation I just had to pass.
Once I told him that I wasn't interested and that my ipod was actually a better model his faced started to lose that 'turn the other cheek' look that Christians are supposed to have and I could see that it was being replaced with the sort of look that said more of a 'I am going to enjoy the afterlife knowing that your soul is doomed to eternal damnation.' Before his face could display his waning patience any further I thought it was a good time to ask a couple of my own questions.
I asked him why Easter is celebrated in the first place. To which he replied, 'We celebrate Easter to recognize the miracle of Christ Resurrection.' With a look of renewed faith in the Christian god I could see his mouth about to start to move in order to spill out some other inspirational words. Before he could get another word out I had yet another question, 'Well that begs the question, why doesn't Isaac get his due? He was resurrected too, right? I don't see little kids biting the heads off of chocolate bunnies looking for hidden eggs. Why can't Isaac get a day? Huh? What's up with that? Is it because he was for sure a Jew? Huh? Oh I get it, only children of virginal mothers can have their resurrection celebrated. I see how it is!'
Blink, Blink, Blink.
Turns out I slept until almost eleven. I would have gotten up sooner but I didn't really see the point. I already have an ipod, better than a shuffle I might repeat, and I think that salvation for me is a little out of reach at this point. I think at best all I can hope for is purgatory, it will only feel like eternity.
Waiting for the Ending,
42
Just last week I was walking in my neighborhood of Mt. Pleasant. For those of you that are not familiar with the many fine neighborhoods in the District of Columbia, Mt. Pleasant is a quite neighborhood nestled between Adams Morgan, known for its rich nightlife and climbing rents, and Columbia Heights. The 'CH', as one of my friends Grand Ma calls it, is known for the efforts of city officials that are doing their darnedest to revitalize the once strong neighborhood.
Way back when Columbia Heights was a bustling community for some of the wealthiest of DC residents. If you want to read up more about the CH go nuts. Anyhow, somewhere between then and the current revitalization shit done fucked that place up. Now, however, hope is horizon with the construction and completion of a great big retail shopping center. Perhaps in the future I will pontificate about the likelihood that DC's revitalization efforts are likely to fail. The reason I don't wish to do that now is because this story is about Jesus.
Ah, now back to Jesus. So there I was walking down Mt. Pleasant St. and on the sidewalk a small group of people were gathered on the corner ahead. Were these people refuges from the great savings made available at the recently opened Target department store? Were they fleeing the CH to get away from all of the fresh white faces that would have never dared venture so high up 14th St had it not been possible to purchase cheaply made mass produced inventory from the factories of China? As I got closer I could see these were not your garden variety crack heads looking for spare change, in fact, they were not illicit drug users at all. These folks were high only on the love of the lord.
Now I have no problems with religious folks, if Jesus is their drug of choice so be it. Those with the love of the Lord in their hearts are much better than a drooling homeless person with fresh spray paint around their nose and mouth from the last round of huffing a fresh can of Plasti-kote.
When I reached their location one of the fine Christians in the pack handed me a flier and told me about a special offer if I chose to attend their churches Easter Mass. The Church was named the Third Church of Christ. Right off the bat I have to admit that I was not aware that churches had a ranking system because I have heard of the First Church of God several times in my years. Hearing the name made me wonder if there was some sort of ranking system similar to college football out there for the Christian faith and its places of worship. I guess when I think about it, you would have the religious journalist out there with there own ranking system while all of the pastors, reverends and priest involved in their own ranking system. Shoot, I keep getting distracted from sharing my story.
So this faithful follower of the Lord told me that if I was to attend one of their Easter services I would be eligible to win a free Apple ipod. Got that, me! I could win a free ipod just for attending someone babble on and on about how a really long time ago the son of God died on the cross for our sins and then a few days later he arose from the dead and ascended into heaven. Just think of it, a free ipod. I think there must be something going on in the hallowed halls of the Third Church of Christ because it seems as if the elder council has stooped to a fairly low level if they are offering cheaply made mass produced electronics from a factory in China over eternal salvation in the afterlife. Is pack-a-pew day not filling the seats like it used to?
So what did I decide, a shot at an ipod or sleeping in until well after 10 AM Sunday morning? Well when it came down to it and I read the fine print on the flier it said that I would have to indeed be present to win (bummer) and that the drawing for the ipod would be held following fellowship in the rectory. The real let down, it was an ipod 'shuffle' and only a one gig model at that. In the end I told him that I already owned an ipod 'Classic' which is like 100 times better than the puny little 'shuffle.' Had it been a 'Nano' then maybe I would have thought about it but since they didn't even throw in a possible shot at salvation I just had to pass.
Once I told him that I wasn't interested and that my ipod was actually a better model his faced started to lose that 'turn the other cheek' look that Christians are supposed to have and I could see that it was being replaced with the sort of look that said more of a 'I am going to enjoy the afterlife knowing that your soul is doomed to eternal damnation.' Before his face could display his waning patience any further I thought it was a good time to ask a couple of my own questions.
I asked him why Easter is celebrated in the first place. To which he replied, 'We celebrate Easter to recognize the miracle of Christ Resurrection.' With a look of renewed faith in the Christian god I could see his mouth about to start to move in order to spill out some other inspirational words. Before he could get another word out I had yet another question, 'Well that begs the question, why doesn't Isaac get his due? He was resurrected too, right? I don't see little kids biting the heads off of chocolate bunnies looking for hidden eggs. Why can't Isaac get a day? Huh? What's up with that? Is it because he was for sure a Jew? Huh? Oh I get it, only children of virginal mothers can have their resurrection celebrated. I see how it is!'
Blink, Blink, Blink.
Turns out I slept until almost eleven. I would have gotten up sooner but I didn't really see the point. I already have an ipod, better than a shuffle I might repeat, and I think that salvation for me is a little out of reach at this point. I think at best all I can hope for is purgatory, it will only feel like eternity.
Waiting for the Ending,
42
Wednesday 12 March 2008
The Greatest Show on Earth
No asshat, I am not referring to the circus. Why would I ever support the entrapment of wild animals purely for human entertainment? I am not seven and neither are you. Granted that maybe out there somewhere there is a seven year old kid with Internet access that could be reading 'So...Yeah' but if there is then maybe his/her parents should be monitoring their child's Internet usage.
So not the Circus, I am referring to the HBO produced program, 'The Wire.'
Wait, scratch that. I am not going to spend this blog sharing my thoughts on the greatest show ever made simply because I have done it before. Faithful readers are fully aware of my thoughts on the greatness of the show and if not, they are welcome to dig through the archives and read up all about it.
Let me go back to what I was talking about before, children on the Internet. It would be cliche of me to say that kids these days have it easy, but aren't cliches rooted in some small amount of truth? Back in my day when I wanted to see images of naked women I had to sneak off somewhere with a friend's father's stolen Playboy. These days I consider Playboy to actually be a strong journalistic periodical. If I want to see images of nakedness all I have to do is open up the series of tubes, find a search engine and enter any number of words.
For example...
ass http://www.google.com/search?q=ass&ie=utf-8&oe=utf-8&aq=t&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a
Wow, instant porn. God bless Al Gore. He created the Internet, remember?
Going to enter some search words,
42
So not the Circus, I am referring to the HBO produced program, 'The Wire.'
Wait, scratch that. I am not going to spend this blog sharing my thoughts on the greatest show ever made simply because I have done it before. Faithful readers are fully aware of my thoughts on the greatness of the show and if not, they are welcome to dig through the archives and read up all about it.
Let me go back to what I was talking about before, children on the Internet. It would be cliche of me to say that kids these days have it easy, but aren't cliches rooted in some small amount of truth? Back in my day when I wanted to see images of naked women I had to sneak off somewhere with a friend's father's stolen Playboy. These days I consider Playboy to actually be a strong journalistic periodical. If I want to see images of nakedness all I have to do is open up the series of tubes, find a search engine and enter any number of words.
For example...
ass http://www.google.com/search?q=ass&ie=utf-8&oe=utf-8&aq=t&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a
Wow, instant porn. God bless Al Gore. He created the Internet, remember?
Going to enter some search words,
42
Thursday 6 March 2008
Perspective and Shit
Word around the way is that some of the fans of 'So...Yeah' have been clamouring for an update. To this I say, here it is.
The last entry to the blog came at a time when I was all about positive vibes. The vibe is still there but the since the post my life got hijacked so to speak. In essence, some folks around me had their lives touched by darkness. All I could do was to put my life on hold for a bit so I could extend my hand to some close friends that needed more than help, they needed the total package.
At the time of the last post I had essentially squared off against the universe and threw out a challenge. Basically I said I wasn't going to take no more shit. In retort, the universe accepted my challenge and said, 'Oh you fendin' to raise up? Well then, take this!'
It turns out the universe packs some heavy shit when 'This' is thrown out. When I look at my life from a distance, I can easily say that my life isn't that bad. There is always someone that has it worse that you do. It gives perspective.
It reminds me of one of the monologues from the classic movie 'Goodfellas.' Pardon me for not providing the full reference, but fans of the movie should recognize the words once they read them:
"Business bad? Fuck you, pay me. Had a fire? Fuck you, pay me."
"The place got hit by lightning? Fuck you, pay me."
The universe in all of its vastness, does not give a shit about you and what happens to you here therein. It boils down to one little cliche, life is what you make it. I think I am going to make a wonderful batch of spicy Italian sausage and green peppers but only because I don't know how to make General Tsao's chicken.
Let me back track for one second for I think I may have misspoken. Is it the correct phrase to say someone or something 'does not give a shit'? The reason I ask is because I am a little confused. Perhaps some of you loyal fans could help me out in understanding this bit of vernacular. Listed below are some phrases that I have heard in the past and my thinking is that they all essentially mean the same thing.
"I don't give a shit..."
"I could give a shit..."
"I couldn't give a shit..."
"I couldn't give two shits..."
"I could give two shits..."
Usually these phrases are generally, but not always, followed by what the person either doesn't, could, or couldn't give a shit about. For example, in referring to who your favorite sports team signed as a free agent I might say 'I don't give a shit if the Yankees signed (insert a popular overpaid professional baseball player's name here), I still hate baseball.'
What is with the shit giving or not giving? Seriously folks, will someone help me out here? Is it generally a positive thing to say you could give a shit? Would one be really faining interest if they could or couldn't give not one but two shits? Help me out folks, I need some help on this one. Feel free to comment away.
Trying to figure this shit out,
42
The last entry to the blog came at a time when I was all about positive vibes. The vibe is still there but the since the post my life got hijacked so to speak. In essence, some folks around me had their lives touched by darkness. All I could do was to put my life on hold for a bit so I could extend my hand to some close friends that needed more than help, they needed the total package.
At the time of the last post I had essentially squared off against the universe and threw out a challenge. Basically I said I wasn't going to take no more shit. In retort, the universe accepted my challenge and said, 'Oh you fendin' to raise up? Well then, take this!'
It turns out the universe packs some heavy shit when 'This' is thrown out. When I look at my life from a distance, I can easily say that my life isn't that bad. There is always someone that has it worse that you do. It gives perspective.
It reminds me of one of the monologues from the classic movie 'Goodfellas.' Pardon me for not providing the full reference, but fans of the movie should recognize the words once they read them:
"Business bad? Fuck you, pay me. Had a fire? Fuck you, pay me."
"The place got hit by lightning? Fuck you, pay me."
The universe in all of its vastness, does not give a shit about you and what happens to you here therein. It boils down to one little cliche, life is what you make it. I think I am going to make a wonderful batch of spicy Italian sausage and green peppers but only because I don't know how to make General Tsao's chicken.
Let me back track for one second for I think I may have misspoken. Is it the correct phrase to say someone or something 'does not give a shit'? The reason I ask is because I am a little confused. Perhaps some of you loyal fans could help me out in understanding this bit of vernacular. Listed below are some phrases that I have heard in the past and my thinking is that they all essentially mean the same thing.
"I don't give a shit..."
"I could give a shit..."
"I couldn't give a shit..."
"I couldn't give two shits..."
"I could give two shits..."
Usually these phrases are generally, but not always, followed by what the person either doesn't, could, or couldn't give a shit about. For example, in referring to who your favorite sports team signed as a free agent I might say 'I don't give a shit if the Yankees signed (insert a popular overpaid professional baseball player's name here), I still hate baseball.'
What is with the shit giving or not giving? Seriously folks, will someone help me out here? Is it generally a positive thing to say you could give a shit? Would one be really faining interest if they could or couldn't give not one but two shits? Help me out folks, I need some help on this one. Feel free to comment away.
Trying to figure this shit out,
42
Monday 14 January 2008
I'd Rather Be Smoking
So this quitting smoking thing is hard. I am going to be honest here and let you all know that I have not gone cold turkey here. I have smoked cigarettes throughout the day and I have enjoyed each and everyone of them.
Friday 11 January 2008
Today is My Birthday!!!
As per the title, today is in fact my birthday. With that said I am resolved to make this year a great. A person very close to me talks about a belief in something called the Laws of Attraction. The basic principle lays in the belief that everything you want to happen will happen if you project positive thoughts towards the desired outcome. While I may be over simplifying the belief, the premise itself is rather basic. Think something will come true, and it will.
I will repeat myself, this year will be GREAT!!!
As I begin the dance in the bottom half of my fourth decade I making declarations to myself that I intend to keep. Let it be known that "So...Yeah" is back and it is back with a renewed vigor to return all of its previous glory. Even if it is only five minutes a day spent sharing my thoughts with the world for all to see, then so be it. Come on, it is only five minutes a day. In the time it takes me to smoke a cigarette I can add to this wonderful blog.
What does that mean? Less smoking, more writing. While it is easier said than done, so are most things. I am sure that everyone has heard that the journey begins with the first step. Let everyone be on notice, the sound you just heard is that of my life on the heel of my right shoe.
Today in the paper I read some people's New Year's resolutions. Reading them reminded me that I did not make any resolutions that began on the first of January. The more I thought about it I realized that New Year's resolutions are practiced as an arbitrary custom assigned to a single day that is considered a fresh start, but I see a fundamental flaw here. The New Year tradition begins on a day that is celebrated on the Roman Calender. I have to ask what about the Chinese Calendar or the Jewish Calender, what about their New Year's days?
So today I am marking as my New Year's Day. It is a new year and it is time to be out with the old and in with the new. I have made several personal resolutions for myself. While some of them fall in line with so many other people's (stop smoking, eat better, exercise more) there are more that I am going to give every effort I can muster that will help me make this year true in its greatness.
I am not wishing. I am not promising.
I am attracting.
Positive things happen to positive people,
42
I will repeat myself, this year will be GREAT!!!
As I begin the dance in the bottom half of my fourth decade I making declarations to myself that I intend to keep. Let it be known that "So...Yeah" is back and it is back with a renewed vigor to return all of its previous glory. Even if it is only five minutes a day spent sharing my thoughts with the world for all to see, then so be it. Come on, it is only five minutes a day. In the time it takes me to smoke a cigarette I can add to this wonderful blog.
What does that mean? Less smoking, more writing. While it is easier said than done, so are most things. I am sure that everyone has heard that the journey begins with the first step. Let everyone be on notice, the sound you just heard is that of my life on the heel of my right shoe.
Today in the paper I read some people's New Year's resolutions. Reading them reminded me that I did not make any resolutions that began on the first of January. The more I thought about it I realized that New Year's resolutions are practiced as an arbitrary custom assigned to a single day that is considered a fresh start, but I see a fundamental flaw here. The New Year tradition begins on a day that is celebrated on the Roman Calender. I have to ask what about the Chinese Calendar or the Jewish Calender, what about their New Year's days?
So today I am marking as my New Year's Day. It is a new year and it is time to be out with the old and in with the new. I have made several personal resolutions for myself. While some of them fall in line with so many other people's (stop smoking, eat better, exercise more) there are more that I am going to give every effort I can muster that will help me make this year true in its greatness.
I am not wishing. I am not promising.
I am attracting.
Positive things happen to positive people,
42
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