FUCKING VULTURES

Today Roomie and I had a very productive morning; she feed her friend's cat, I got my glasses adjusted, library (so excited to read "Secret Historian"), cleaned, etc, whatever. Also emptied our mailbox for the first time since Friday. Holy Shit. Our mail person must hate us.

Anyways, in regards to my recent troubles, I received no less than 18 letters from attorneys seeking to represent me. Thanks...but no thanks. I already have an attorney on retainer. It disturbs me that the State of Illinois apparently sells lists of people they charge with crimes to marketing firms, that then in turn re-sell that information to other marketing firms. Fucking Assholes.

I should know. I used to work for a company that did something very similar. And I hate them. A cruel irony, indeed. But FUCK them. Who knew there exists a cottage industry of feeding off of others misfortune. Perhaps I'm simply that naive.

PS - My new banker is smoking cute. Tall, skinny, dark hair, right up my alley. And he lives near the bar I work at. Random, I know. What a strange week. "First round is on me" were my parting words to him today. And I meant it. Am I a vulture too?

FACEBOOK IS GETTING ON MY NERVES

I'm assuming most people out there have long since migrated from MySpace (what a piece of shit) to Facebook (a slightly less piece of shit). It's cool though, and it's allowed me to reconnect with many people I haven't heard from in years. That's the positive aspect...

On the flip side though...I REALLY don't need to know about every little detail about people's day. This trend is especially apparent with couples. It's annoying enough to have to watch an "oh so cute!" couple in person, who can't keep their hands off each other. To replicate this digitally makes me slightly more than slightly nauseous.

Please don't think I'm being a joy-kill or anything; I'm totally down with couples being in love/lust or whatever. I just don't need to fucking read about it. Every. Time. I. Log. On.

The other thing that annoys me too is how sarcasm apparently does NOT travel via Facebook status updates. I'll write something stupid, such as my current "update:" Hmmm...nothing left to clean in my apartment...what to do? Oh! Cemetery walk! WOOT! People I have friended on their from grade school, or [God forbid] Mom's of my friend's probably read that and think I'm fucking crazy.

Oh, and I used to think no one paid attention to what I wrote since I never got any replies or thumbs up or whatever the fuck people do on that site - WRONG! I guess people who are actually gainfully employed spend an inordinate amount of time reading that shit at work. GET TO WORK PEOPLE! Haha, like I give a shit.

AN OPEN LETTER TO A DRAG QUEEN

This post addresses what I could/should have said when I verbally harassed over the course of several hours by a drag queen while on Fire Island. Her comments began innocuously enough, accusing me of "not being gay" then devolved into "I'm getting a straight vibe off of you" to her going out of her way to tell other random people that "he says he's gay but he's not". Needless to say, I was less than amused, and at one point seriously pissed the fuck off. I held back because I generally shy away from confrontation when drunk, as that usually precludes a productive conversation. Anyways, here goes... 

Dear Drag Queen,

First off, you're shoes are fucking ugly. Did they come with the dress you picked up at TJ Maxx? Could have fooled me. Also, I was not previously aware that they manufacture lace up pumps in a size 13. Oh, and you have bad, bad blow job hair.  

But enough with the childish behavior (although after you made fun of what I was wearing I feel justified in making fun of your appearance, but I won't go there, well except for when I just did). I have a question for you, Oh Holy Overload of all that is Gay; do you see this flag below? 

That's a gay pride flag, a symbol I would have to assume that you have seen before at least once if not more. Now, I know I'm not a "stereotypical" homosexual man, and I wouldn't presume to know which exact "color" I am...but there are a lot of colors on that flag, and I'm certain one of them represents me. See, the gay community is like, diverse and shit. That might come as a shock to you, or perhaps you just needed a fucking clue. Consider this it. 

You know, usually when people criticize me, it's "helpful" criticism, which I consider a gift of sorts. I don't pretend to know all the answers and I take well meaning comments to heart. You, however, seem content to be a spiteful human being with little or no redeeming qualities, one whom "gets off" on putting other people down. Thus, you have no purpose on this earth, let alone in the greater gay community. 

Furthermore, do you have any idea how much effort it has taken me to come to this point in life? I know some people come out fairly easily, that was not the case with me. It took a LOT of fucking pain, tears and blowjobs to get where I am today, so please forgive me for being offended at your backhanded remarks. You fucking bitch. 

Sincerely, 

Justin

PS - You SUCK at life.  

I hope that didn't come off as too bitter, but the bullshit noise that person was making really bothered me, which seemed to be the intent. Before I came out I thought the gay community was all about inclusiveness, and I still believe/hope it is. But when I encounter someone who should be open-minded, but acts in a fashion to suggest anything but, I feel the need to call that person on their shit.  

I HATE UMBRELLAS

According to the research it just took me 30 seconds to do, the umbrella has been around since 21 A.D., when someone named Wang Mang utilized one in his wedding ceremony. To that I say, and this reasoning stands today in my mind....PUSSY. 

If you really need to be THAT protected from the elements, just stay the fuck inside. Last night, I was at my buddy's place, drunk/high as shit, it was 2AM and I got ready to extend my middle fingers at the passing CTA buses and walk the 1/2 mile or so home. 

Had I an umbrella in my possession, perhaps I would have considered walking bravely home in the elements. But after careful consideration (and a Camel Light) I decided this particular storm was not worth the effort. So I crashed on a couch instead.

This afternoon, on my way home, I walked in the light mist along a busy street and had to dodge people with umbrellas left, and right. Come on people really? YOU WILL NOT MELT. And stop taking up the entire fucking sidewalk while threatening to stab me in the eye[s) with your useless contraption. 

Whew, not to get too worked up about something so inane, but it got me thinking, and thus, I determined there are only 3 legit reasons to use an umbrella:

1. You are my Mom, circa 1989 and just got your hair did/permed. 

2. You have a recent head wound, and the stitches are sticky.

3. You are Michael Jackson.

Outside of those 3 reasons, just suck it the fuck up and let the moisture accumulate on your head and body. It's really not that bad. In fact, you might even look all unexpectedly hot to a random stranger.   

"YOU'RE CAR HAS BEEN RENDERED A TOTAL LOSS"

That was the first sentance of the letter I received today from my insurance company. I thought perhaps this was some sort of a resolution. Not so. They are merely complying with some random state law about stolen vehicles. They still have not found (what's left of) my car, nor have they given up whatever they consider to be "hope". No. It'll be at least 3 more weeks before they make any final determination about my $26,500 loss. In the mean time, I am expected to make payments. On a car I no longer posses. FUCK. ME.  

On the plus side, I think my ass is enjoying all the walking I've been having to do. So there's always that. 

SOMEONE FUCKING STOLE MY FUCKING CAR! FUCK!

That's right. As if I don't have enough bullshit to deal with right now, someone decided they needed an Acura RSX more than I do, and promptly relived me of THE CAR THAT I LOVED. Fuck man. FUCK! 

Yesterday I woke up and wrote a list of shit I need from Target. It was a typically gray Chicago spring day, gloomy and drizzly, made even more so by the pile of broken glass that rests next to where my car used to. 

It took awhile to sink in, and I thought that maybe I had forgotten where I had parked. Even though I knew in heart that it was pointless, I still walked around the neighborhood, searching in vain for the car that I knew was long gone. 

I imagine it's already on blocks somewhere on the West Side, being stripped for parts. And the thought makes me want to cry, but instead I'm keeping on a brave face. Budweiser helps too. Lots of it. 

I swear the shit I've been through with this car. Remember this? Or a year before then when someone jacked one of my wheels? Or the $500 I just sunk into it for new brakes. I'm ALMOST relieved, but not quite. The day was drawing near for me to turn it in (it's leased) and I was preparing myself for my first car-less summer in 10 or so years. But I wasn't ready yet! 

In a minor bit of cruel irony, the largest shard of glass left on the street is the "anti-theft" symbol from the passenger side window. Seeing that made my blood fucking boil. But now, at this point I'm just so exhausted dealing with the Police, the Insurance and the Finance people. And I know that the real fun is only about to begin. UGH. 

PARDON ME SIR, THAT'S MY CAR YOU'RE PISSING ON

Across the street from the bar I work at, lies a vacant storefront that someone has rented out to a some douche bag Wicker Park hipsters (which will henceforth be referred to as the Hipster Biker Brigade). At the night drew to a close I noticed, with mild concern of the group of dudes gathering near my car, which was parked in front of said storefront.

It goes without saying that I'm kinda a bitch when it comes to my car; so when I looked out the window and say some dude FUCKING PISSING ON/NEAR MY CAR I did not hesitate to cross the street and confront the asshole. Shit went down like this:

ME: "Hi there. Excuse me, but would you mind NOT pissing on my fucking car?" 

HIPSTER WITH TINY PENIS IN HAND: "Oh, um...is this really your car?"

ME: "Would I give a flying fuck if it wasn't?"

HIPSTER WITH TINY PENIS IN HAND: "Oh. Right. Well, for what it's worth I was pissing on the ground near your car. See (pointing at piss puddle on the ground) I only maybe splashed your undercarriage."

ME: [exhibiting remarkable restraint]: "Why the fuck can't you piss in the alley like a proper man?"

HIPSTER WITH TINY PENIS IN HAND: "Oh, well, I....um....sorry man, really, I, um..."

I swear to GAWD I was going to beat the living shit out of this asshole in front of his friends. Really. I'm not a fighter, but this guy was begging to get his teeth kicked in. To his or perhaps my credit, we instead engaged in a surprisingly fruitful conversation. However, I was certain that I would drive home with "DIE CAPITALIST PIG" written on my passenger side door. Thankfully, I did not. Crisis averted!

THERE'S A REASON I DON'T TWITTER

Outside of my concerns about being too "plugged in" I realized I could never have a Twitter account due to the total inane and utter bullshit that I would share with the world. No offense to those that do "Twitter" (UGH - I fucking hate words that are used as verbs which are anything but) but does the world at large really need a minute by minute update on your day? I think not. And to prove my point I've decided to create a virtual Twitter feed for y'all:

JESUS CHRIST driving a Volvo, why are there so many fucking cooking shows on tv?

11:14AM Feb 15  from Web

I just dropped the A-S-S bomb to end all ass bombs. We're talking atomic strength!

1:26PM Feb 18  from Web

I just voted! Yay me! I'm a big boy now!

4:21PM Feb 21 from txt

I like to watch movies in the dark.

9:47 PM Feb 24 from Web

!WHOA - that Latin dude looks like he can really FUCK!

6:57PM Feb 26 from txt

This is such a stupid fucking use of technology.

8:34AM Feb 27 from Web

DmtmQp..1$@@ I DRUNK mumbl&&mumble NANCY REGAN justsayyes! ***

4:21AM Feb 27 from txt

"You call that coke? Psssssh, loser, go pass that shit off on some grade school kids."

2:35AM Feb 28 from txt

My nipples are hard for reasons unbeknownst to me. Down boys!

11:20AM Mar 1 from Web

Fuck this piece of corn stuck in my teeth. Fuck it to death.

2:34PM Mar 3 from txt

People from Wisconsin should not be allowed to operate motor vehicles.

4:14PM Mar 4 from txt

My dick is my best friend and closest confidant. 

7:34AM Mar 5 from Web

Could that douche from Friends BE any more annoying?

6:57PM Mar 5 from Web

I really need to work on that "25 Reasons why Chicago Rawks wit it's CAWK out" post.

1:45PM Mar 8 from Web

So I guess what I'm saying is, is that I don't understand the reason for Twitter to exist, other than providing people with yet another outlet for useless, vapid communication. Then again, blogging isn't too different, is it?

FUCK THE HATERS

I'm really sick and fucking tired of the random, mean spirited, anonymous comments that have been left here lately. Obviously, when you blog your thoughts you open yourself up to all sorts of criticism, and I've learned to live with that. My skin is thick and like to think I have a tremendous sense of humor. But I've been sensing a change in attitude, in that some people out there seem to think I am lazy drunk, sitting on my hands, too proud to take any work out there. 

To these people, I'd like say GET FUCKED. I can be self-depreciating at times, and I'm mostly a good sport when it comes to making fun of myself. But at some point, enough is enough. It's hard enough to keep my head, literally above water; I am trying my fucking best to be a productive member of society. Receiving unemployment benefits, while certainly helpful, makes me feel like a burden on the rest of society. It's NOT something I take for granted.

To the insensitive assholes out there in the world that seems to feel it's OK to make fun of an unemployed person with anxiety/depression issues, well, fire away. If you're that much of a prick, I'll publish your fucking comments, in the hope that Karma will come back and jam a stick of TNT up your ass. And also to these people, keep in mind that one day, probably sooner than later you'll find yourself in the same position I find myself, trying to decide between paying my car payment or my rent. 

Did I mention GET FUCKED?

THIS IS TOO EASY

THINGS THAT SCARE ME/MY VARIOUS ARCH NEMESIS' PART 1

1. Cinnamon

I blame the British for unleashing this scourge upon the world. Not only does it taste like shit, the smell alone is enough to induce vomiting. There's a chain of restaurants here in Chicago called Ann Sather's that is famous for their cinnabons. Walking past one of these places on a hot day is pure torture for me. Also, fuck frosting.

2. The Happy Birthday Song

What a lame ass way to "celebrate" one's birthday. No one likes singing that song. And even worse is having to stand there having it sung to you like a jackass. You know what my worst nightmare is? Being stuck in a TGI Friday's while that song is sung to me by a bunch of retarded waiters/waitresses sporting their best flare.

3. Republicans

This goes without saying. But really, what causes someone to turn to the dark side and shun any and all concern for the rest of humanity? Years ago, I was drunk off my ass, having just left Wrigley Field. NPR announced that Reagan had just died and I went into a hysterical fit of laughter/yelling out the car window while rolling down Addison. Fuck that AID's denying motherfucker.

4. Gin

Way back in high school I consumed a bottle of Seagram's gin with a friend of mine (Gloria, I'm looking at YOU) and promptly vomited furiously. Thank God I was already in the bathroom. To this day the mere sight of a gin and tonic makes me want to hurl. Ugh, and smell is almost as bad as cinnamon.

5. Toyota Camrys

You have to be a special kind of asshole to drive this type of car. Not only do said drivers routinely drive less than the speed limit, they are also prone to leaving their blinkers on. Also, it seems that a popular option is the ever present stuffed animal in the rear window. Don't even get me started on those that choose the "gold" package.

6. Phoenix

Full disclosure: My mother choose to move here. Why? I have no idea. Maybe because she likes complaining about the heat. If you like freeways, shitty pizza, sweating and douchebags, this town is right up your alley. It's like the 4th circle of hell. Oh, and stucco homes are lame. Ever been stuck on I-10? Exactly.

7. Menthol Cigarettes

It's no secret that I enjoy slowly killing myself with tobacco products. That being said, there was one time I so desperate for nicotine that I smoked a Newport. Gross. That was the first time I understood why people think smoking is disgusting.

8. Guy's With Veins Popping Out Of Their Arms

No matter how much I work on my "guns" I cannot make the veins pop out. Damn! "Joey" has them and he doesn't even work out. WTF? This makes me both bitter since I lack them, and happy that I can feel his at will. Perhaps I need to ingest some of that human growth hormone stuff. Then again, I like having balls.

9. Comcast

These vile fuckers have me by the balls. I lived without cable TV for about 8 months, and it sucked ass. Now that I am thoroughly entertained once again I am paying through the nose for the privilege. And my promo rate is almost expired. Yikes!

10. People That Tell Me To Quit Smoking

Smoking is bad for you? Whoa! No fucking shit! You just blew my mind! I thought these things were full of vitamins (Dennis Leary reference). Thank you for dismissing me as a human being based on my personal preferences. Fuck you very much. Try buying me some Nicorette if you're that concerned, which I am sure you are not.

I'M FUCKING BORED!

Maybe it's the shit weather today. Maybe I'm bored of jerking off. Or maybe there's just nothing on TV (I'm ashamed I watched 3 episodes of Gene Simmon's Family Jewels today. Both Carrot Top and Danny Bonaduce made an appearance today, UGH).

I never expected to be unemployed for this long, and frankly, it sucks ass. At first the free time was AWESOME. But at this point, I'm just bored. Yes, waking up at Noon is pretty sweet, but having no structure in my life just kills me.

Yesterday I had a great interview. Despite the fact that I wore jeans (hey, my outfit looked hot!) I got asked back for a second interview, which involves me shadowing this guy on Friday. What will I be doing? Leasing apartments. I'm a bit nervous about working as an independent contractor, seeing as I'll be on 100% commission with no benefits. That being said I have the potential to make MAD cash!

Also, I applied as a server at a gay bar. Oh, and to work in the meat department at a Whole Foods...how random.

Although I once stated that I want to work in something that "means" something, at this point I just want something to fucking do. Or to be around people other than myself. Perhaps I'm just lonely because "Joey" has been out of town for the last few days. Gawd, how I miss that boy!

End of transmission. Back to watching Weeds and drooling over Silas and pining for my guy (both real and imaginary).

ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?

Like most people, I have a change jar. Although this particular change jar also contains stray $1's that end up in my wallet at the end of the night. These are used for the occasional beer/fast food/cigarette emergency.

Tonight, there was no such emergency, just me being lazy and wanting to drink beer. So I grabbed $4 bucks out, and the last one I grab is this:

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The day that Ron Paul's name appears on this nation's currency, I will pull a Hunter S. Thompson and put myself out of my misery. Or I'll "pull a white liberal" and threaten to move to Canada...

I wonder, is somewhere out there writing RP's name on currency as some sort of guerrilla marketing scheme?

FUCK GAY LIMBO

About a week or so ago I posted with the headline "I'm A Very Happy Boy!". Of course, my happiness (temporary as it was) stemmed from a guy I briefly dated and having reconnected with. After our awesome date, I was feeling very good, very positive. All week I had a dopey grin on my face and a literal "spring" in my step.

Now, seeing as how our last excuse for "dating" went I wasn't putting too much stock in things going forward. Still, we talked on and off during the week, and made vague plans to hang out on that weekend. And since every time we went out we ended back at my place, I was eager to see his place, and hang out in his 'hood.

On Thursday he mentioned how me might have to get up early on Saturday morning to hang out with his sister, his husband and their kid. No problem. Saturday Night would work for me too. Well, on Saturday he calls and says he has a birthday party to go to in the suburbs, and because he was relying on friends for a ride, he might not get back until late.

Needless to say, I made other plans, and he never got back to me. Although I was reluctant, I wasn't going to hold anything against him, and texted him the next day to see if he wanted to chill sometime "soon". Well, again, not surprisingly, he never responded.

Believe me when I say I'm not surprised, or offended and defiantly not sad about it. It just seems illogical to me that someone would randomly express interest in me, than leave me hanging. Had he called me and said "hey, you know, you're a totally unattractive foul mouthed asshole, fuck you and die a slow death". That I could deal with...at least I would know where I stood, rather than being stuck in gay limbo.

BACK TO THE DRAWING BOARD

About 2 weeks ago I wrote the New Guy/Doctor and well, that shit is over with. For the sake of brevity let's focus on a few reasons why this did not work out:

Overuse of the "L" word.

Anyone that says they love me after dating for a week and a half is either incredibly clingy, desperate or diluted in regards to what this word means. The declaration of his "love" for me after such a short period of time would make sense if we were teenagers, but coming from a 29 year old, it seems suspect at best.

I don't know if it results from a yearning to be in a relationship or if he considers me some sort of a trophy, especially after he told me he doesn't date Puerto Ricans (like himself) but only white guys (like me).

Admittedly, I have a thing for Latinos, but I would not ever parade a hot Latino guy around to my friends as I felt he did the last time we hung out. None of them seemed particularly interested in actually talking to me, rather they seemed to wink and smile at me.

Communication Issues

At first I thought his thick accent and curious spelling of various words was cute. But then it became confusing and finally frustrating. Keep in mind I am not some xenophobic asshole that gets annoyed if I have to push #2 for English when I make a customer service call, but when I have no fucking idea what this guy is saying to me or when his syntax is so out of whack that I have to pretend to understand what he is trying to communicate, it gets old. And quick.

Perhaps it would help if we hung out in places other than loud gay bars/clubs, but that's where we always ended up hanging out at, despite my suggestions for dinner or movie or hanging at one of our places.

Does He Even Know My Name?

I cannot think of a single instance, where he used my first name, whether it's on the phone, in person or via text message. Serious. I keep my text trails for a long time and not once did he ever use my name, instead using "Babe", "Homo", "You" or "Love". I am positive of this as I just checked.

W introducing me to his friends he'll introduce me as his "friend" with a not so oblique reference that we are more than friends (as in this is my "friend" said with eyebrows arched or a sly grin).

He has, however, used the term "sweetheart" and maybe I'm jaded, but that reminds me of my Mom (who calls me that) and is not what I want to hear before someone sticks their tongue in my mouth, for obvious reasons. Also, this isn't 1955.

Questionable "Ethics"

Though I am reluctant to deem anyone a racist, he has on more than one occasion used some questionable terms to indicate those with an African American lineage. On our 4th or 5th time hanging out I suggested going to a gay club called Spin, and he dismissed that idea because "that's where dark people go".

That might seem an obvious no-no but at the time I was drunk and figured I misheard him (which happens a lot). What I am sure of is that when he called me one day, I expressed my excitement in regards to Obama's political progress. He referred to him, in a very dismissive tone, as a "monkey". Not fucking cool.

When I got back from LA he really wanted to hang out, but since it was late I didn't return his call, nor have I responded to a slew of ill-formed text messages. I almost feel bad but at the end of the day I really just want nothing to do with this guy.

Maybe that makes me a bad person, but that's the risk one takes when you meet someone in a bar and unintentionally turn them off in ways I have outlined above. There are plenty of guys out there, and I feel no need to waste my time with this one.

FUCKING FUCK!

Fuck. Someone hit my fucking car last night. Fuck! Look at this shit! Ugh, not happy about this at all.

I parked on the left side on a one way street, and it appears that someone driving at a high rate of speed, going the wrong way, plowed into my car. I have insurance, obviously, but fuck if this isn't lame.

There are pieces of brake light embedded into my passenger door, which no longer opens. That side mirror, that I so carefully folded in (as I always do) now points north, rendering it inoperable.

At least I can still drive it, but still. This is not good. Looks like more money will be evaporated from my savings account. And, I have to go to the police station to file a report. Fuck.

SOME SHIT I LIKE, SOME SHIT I DON'T

For whatever reason I find myself incapable of completing a blog post of any true substance, so I thought I'd take a moment on reflect on some shit I like and some shit I don't right now...

1. Home Alone

Not the movie, but living alone. While I was in Denver, Roomie left to embark on another archeology adventure, so for the past week, this week, and the next one I can walk around naked, leave empty beers cans where I please and blare RAWK in the morning while I get ready for work. It's pretty fucking awesome.

2. Masturbation

This might go hand in hand with #1 (pun intended) but on Sunday afternoon, I took a break from being lazy and got busy with my Right Hand Man. Not sure what happened, but I managed to give myself an EPIC orgasm. To paraphrase a line from "Fight Club", "I haven't fucked myself like that since High School".

3. Edgewater Produce

I loathe the Dominick's near me (for you non-Chicagoans, that's our version of Safeway, and it blows). It's expensive, the produce is awful and the shelves are frequently empty. So, on Sunday I went to a little neighborhood place called Edgewater Produce. I got 3 huge, tasty tomatoes, 2 onions that made me cry, 1 pound of turkey breast, 1/2 pound of cheese, 2 cucumbers, a head of lettuce bigger than mine, a loaf of wheat bread, 20 fresh tortillas and a bag of taco cheese. For $17 and change. Fucking TITS!

4. Top Gear

This is one of the most popular shows in the world, though largely unknown in the States. Basically, it's a weekly, hour long program produced by the BBC, and it's all about cars. I just watched an episode where the 3 presenters flew to Miami with a challenge to buy 3 cars, for $1000 each. They then drive their jalopies to New Orleans and get fucked with Red Necks in the Florida Panhandle. Needless to say, it's amusing. Also, I have a crush on Richard Hammond.

5. A Clean Ride

The weather was so awful in January and February I neglected to get my bitch washed. It got so bad on the inside that said "fuck it" and started smoking in it. But leaving work last Thursday, the weather was nice and I couldn't take the mess anymore, and I stopped by a hand wash place. For $10, a team of guys scrubbed both the exterior and interior. It looks like new and no longer smells like smoke.

Now, some shit I don't like...

1. The Litter Box

Seeing as Roomie is not around to clean the Cat's Shit Box, this glamorous task is now mine. A long time ago I had 2 cats, but Roomie's 2 cats produce an astounding amount of piss and shit. I think they produce more "waste" than I do, and my shit don't stink like their's does. Just tonight I cleaned out the Shit Box, and recoiled in horror when I took the lid off the damn thing. Gross, disgusting, obscene...

2. Car Payment(s)

When I checked my bank account the other day, it seemed I had too much money in there. When I got my monthly statement from my lessor, I realized why; the payment I scheduled last month never went through, thus I had to make a double payment. Rather than having an excess of funds, I have quite the opposite now. This fucking sucks.

3. Bro's New GF

Until about a month ago my older Brother was dating an awesome girl, but for whatever reason, their relationship ended after 2+ years. On Sunday I was introduced to the reason why, and her fucking name is fucking "Heather". Ugh. She wears bright red lipstick, dresses like a Skater Boy, and from my limited exposure, she sucks at life. I love my Brother, but sometimes it amazes me we're from the same gene pool.

4. Sleep

It seems the more I get the more tired I am. Last night I turned out the lights around 11:30 (anything before Midnight is early for me) and despite the 8+ hours of deep sleep I got, I woke up exhausted. What the shit is that? Not cool. I could chalk it up to the shitty weather today, but really, that shouldn't matter. Tonight, I intend to stay up until at least 1AM and see if that helps.

5. Dealer's

Who do I have to blow in this city to get a bag of weed? Not like I'm jonesin' but it would be nice to be able to get high, bump some Jay-Z while making dinner and retire to my Front Room and watch some of the Netflix DVD's that have piled up. I suppose I can do this sober, but really, getting high in the comfort of your own home and watching some shit on the tube is pretty fucking great after a long day of work. Call me back shady dude!

Well, there you go...a brief insight into my life as of now. On the balance, I'm pretty happy with things, but that doesn't mean I can't bitch once in awhile too. After all, I am a white American male, and as such, prone to complain over stupid shit.

I THINK I HAVE THE "SAD"

SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) is a type of winter depression that affects an estimated half a million people every Winter between September and April, in particular during December, January and February.It is caused by a biochemical imbalance in the hypothalamus due to the shortening of daylight hours and the lack of sunlight in winter.

This is nothing new. Having lived in the upper Midwest my entire life I fully expect the months of January, February & March to be "the Dead months". That being said, this particular winter season has been especially aggravating, not to mention fucking depressing.

Example: this morning I woke up and thought about how awesome it would be to hit up Trader Joe's and get food to make a killer breakfast - eggs, bacon, potatoes, fresh fruit, sausage - the whole nine yards. Then I looked out of the window that was rattling from the viscous winds and thought "nah, fuck that, I'm staying in".

Eventually I did make it out to meet friends for breakfast, but the little things, like un-parking my car, which was resting upon a bed of ice/slush/bullshit was in and of itself a minor adventure. Really, is it too much to ask not to have to almost get stuck anytime I want to drive somewhere?

After I got breakfast, a freak thunderstorm broke out. I'm talking thunder, lightning, wind - all that shit. It was crazy. Currently the temperature is 45 degrees. Tonight it's supposed to drop to the lower 20's and we're supposed to get more snow. This also means that all the standing water will freeze over.

FUCK. THIS.

Don't get me wrong, there are things I want to do. Today I was planning on going to the Chicago History Museum. Maybe not the "sexiest" thing to do but it seemed like an interesting way to spend a gray afternoon. Now, I'm unsure if I even have the energy to walk to Blockbuster...

This has been a long, hard winter and until now I think I've dealt with it fairly well. But whatever reservoir of patience/steely resolve I have tapped into seems depleted.

Perhaps I'll take tomorrow off from work, or buy tickets to fly somewhere nice and sunny. Something, anything to make me feel less like the Zofolt rock:

THIS IS WRONG ON SO MANY LEVELS

On a semi-weekly basis I am the unfortunate recipient of my bosses' politically-charged e-mail forwards. Rather than preface this message with my thoughts, I would ask you to read the below message...

From: Xxxxx Xxxxx [mailto:REDACTED]
Sent: Wednesday, January 09, 2008 8:14 AM
To: REDACTED
Subject: FW: Who is Barack Obama????

[This is very interesting - please take a few moments and read it. Who is Barack Obama? Something that should be considered when you make your choice.]

If you do not ever forward anything else, please forward this to all your contacts...it is very scary to think of what could lie ahead for us here in our own United States...better heed this and pray about it and share it.

We checked this out on "snopes.com". It is factual. Check for yourself.

Who is Barack Obama? Probable U. S. presidential candidate, Barack Hussein Obama was born in Honolulu, Hawaii, to Barack Hussein Obama, Sr., a black MUSLIM from Nyangoma-Kogel, Kenya and Ann Dunham, a white Atheist from
Wichita, Kansas.

Obama's parents met at the University of Hawaii. When Obama was two years old, his parents divorced. His father returned to Kenya. His mother then married Lolo Soetoro, a RADICAL Muslim from Indonesia. When Obama was 6 years old, the family relocated to Indonesia. Obama attended a MUSLIM school in Jakarta. He also spent two years in a Catholic school. Obama takes great care to conceal the fact that he is a Muslim. He is quick to point out that, "He was once a Muslim, but that he also attended Catholic school." Obama's political handlers are at tempting to make it appear that he is not a radical. Obama's introduction to Islam came via his father, and that this influence was temporary at best. In reality, the senior Obama returned to Kenya soon after the divorce, and never again had any direct influence over his son's education.

Lolo Soetoro, the second husband of Obama's mother, Ann Dunham, introduced his stepson to Islam. Obama was enrolled in a Wahabi school in Jakarta. Wahabism is the RADICAL ISLAMIC teaching that is followed by the Muslim terrorists who are now waging Jihad against the western world. Since it is politically expedient to be a CHRISTIAN when seeking major public office in the United States, Barack Hussein Obama has joined the United Church of Christ in an attempt to downplay his Muslim background. ALSO, keep in mind that when he was sworn into office he DID NOT use the Holy Bible, but instead the Koran.

Barack Hussein Obama will NOT recite the Pledge of Allegiance nor will he show any reverence for our flag. While others place their hands over their hearts, Obama turns his back to the flag and slouches.

Let us all remain alert concerning Obama's expected presidential candidacy.

The Muslims have said they plan on destroying the US from the inside out, what better way to start than at the highest level - through the President of the United States, one of their own!!!!

Please forward to everyone you know. Would you want this man leading our country?...... NOT ME!!!

PAUSE

OK - regardless of your political persuasion, and regardless of the dubious facts and the nature and their presentation, is this not COMPLETELY AND TOTALLY FUCKING UNPROFESSIONAL?

Now, I work for a small, privately owned firm, one of the partners is the man who sent this message. Obviously, he feels totally warranted in projecting his (IMO) extreme political point of views, of which I am at odds with.

Then again, this man signs my checks, and this is a country where free speech (no matter how full of shit) is a constitutional right.

That being said, even my generous tolerance is becoming dangerously depleted. I feel like I should say something, but, fuck, he pays me!

That alone fucks with my conscious, but on a practical level I feel I should just ignore it and do my job (although that makes me feel like a wimpy bitch).

So...any thoughts? Ideas? Suggestions? A few friends of mine think I should "report" him, but really, to whom would I? Last time I checked, there are no laws against being an ASSHOLE.

Am I right?

PS - Roomie posed an important question to me. What if this man (or whoever wrote this shit) switched out the word "Muslim" for "Jew" or "Woman"? Something to chew on...

WEEKEND UPDATE

The Roomie is back in full force! After getting home from work last night we popped a bottle of bubbly and promptly emptied it - in like 45 minutes. Then we consumed some Old Style (classy, I know) along with some Jameson whiskey. Our mutual friend (her best friend from high school) whom I will call Big Pappa was also here, and soon after our other buddy MarK joined us and the four of us proceeded to get lit. Eventually we stumbled over to a bar for pizzas and more beer. By the time we left we were all drunk. There's really not much else to report since most of last night was a blur, but it's good to have the Roomie back!

In other news, I texted this guy, whom I will refer to as Polish guy, on Thursday night, (this is the guy I met over the summer at a concert and we've gone out twice since). I asked him if he had plans for Saturday and he responded that he did not, so I asked him if he wanted to get dinner, to which he responded "sure, what do you have in mind?" Since he came up to my 'hood the last two times, I offered to go somewhere near him. 30 minutes later, after not receiving a response, I sent another message asking if he had any preference on where we go. He never responded back...

Fuck it. Seriously...I cannot deal with flakes. Rather than going out with Polish guy, I am going to Big Pappa's costume party tonight, which should be awesome. My costume? I'm going as a Gangsta Rapper! Roomie and I spent the last 2 hours going to the various $1 stores in my 'hood, and I bought the following items which will constitute my costume:

1. Grillz. Yes, I am wearing fucking Grillz over my teeth, (at least for my grand entrance and for pictures).
2. Do-Rag. If you live in a major city you know exactly what I am referring to.
3. Bling. I have a huge gold necklace with a "$" on it, and also a gold bracelet and various rings.
4. Pager. I don't why I bought this...but it felt right a the time.
5. Gun. I thought it was illegal for stores in the city to sell toy guns, but I found one that did. It's looks like a Glock, therefore, I need to be careful with it when out in public tonight. I thinking of putting in my waist, haha.

In total, I spent a whopping $8 on my get up.

Items I have around the house that will be used to round out my costume include a neck bandanna (and I am going to wear it like the spray paint artists do), a wife beater, my big tough looking boots (they are not Timberlands could pass for them) and my jeans, that Ill wear without a belt so that they sag. Now all I need is a name for my alter ego...I'm thinking "White Out" is fitting.

The best part of my costume? Roomie's huge Russian friend is going to wear shades and a track suit, and be my bodyguard! Oh man, this promises to be a great night. The party is going to be stocked with 30 or so people, lots of food and plenty of drinks.

Hopefully, I will not get arrested tonight.

OH - guess who just responded back to my text from Thursday night? That's right, Polish guy. You know, he could have a valid reason for taking 48 hours to return a text message, and if he had replied back "sorry, my dog died" or "my house burned down" or whatever, but he did not. His message was "hey, what are you up to?"

Fuck that shit.