tsk tsk tsk
Christian Bale, the actor that plays Batman, was arrested recently for allegedly assaulting his own mother. Wow, If true I guess all that money from his percentage of gross from this weekend's record breaking box office had made him so angry and violent that he would hit his own Ma. If this isn't proof that fame and money don't buy happiness then I don't know what does. Celebrities are just as infallible as we are and perhaps more so. I'd argue that you have to be a crazy wack job to be in the public spot light. So perhaps their proclivities make them more apt to do things most of us wouldn't even consider.
Just look at Mel Gibson's anti-semitic drunken rants, Britney Spear's umbrella attacks and head shaving adventures, and murderous rampages by OJ Simpson. Well, okay so maybe the last example was a bit extreme, but you get the point. We see actors act on television and movies and asume that they have their shit together when in fact it may even be worse for them.
It's hard to be in control when you aren't.
Showing posts with label crazy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crazy. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
The fish are dropping like flies!!
RIP Leo
2007-2008
Yet another dead fish in the tank this morning. I didn't say anything to kids this time as I needed to drop them off at camp and get to work. My lack of being up front with the news of their pet's passing was based solely on their previous over the top reaction to the death of their first fish. I would have been at least a half hour late if I informed them of Leo's demise. But really, I do think Leo would have wanted it that way. I am the main fish food dispenser after all, so one can logically assume that he did like me. Thus, I'm positive he wouldn't want me to be late for work on his account. The least I can do is respect the wishes of a dead fish. Besides, Lynn can break it to them when she picks them up.
That leaves Michael as the sole survivor of the upstairs tank. We have a Betta named Fabio in a small bowl downstairs. You can't put the Bettas in with the goldfish as they will continue to attack them until they are dead. Had I known Leo was so close to meet his maker I would have put him in the bowl with Fabio. That way he could have gone out with some panache and style. Plus it would entertain poor Fabio who seems rather bored with his existence lately.
I'm debating whether or not to get more fish. If the kids have another wailing fest like they did last time I don't think I could handle any more pet deaths. The little hypocrites hardly ever fed the fish or merely gaze at them in their tank very often. I think we should give them fish sticks for dinner as we break the news to them so the event would be compete with irony.
2007-2008
Yet another dead fish in the tank this morning. I didn't say anything to kids this time as I needed to drop them off at camp and get to work. My lack of being up front with the news of their pet's passing was based solely on their previous over the top reaction to the death of their first fish. I would have been at least a half hour late if I informed them of Leo's demise. But really, I do think Leo would have wanted it that way. I am the main fish food dispenser after all, so one can logically assume that he did like me. Thus, I'm positive he wouldn't want me to be late for work on his account. The least I can do is respect the wishes of a dead fish. Besides, Lynn can break it to them when she picks them up.
That leaves Michael as the sole survivor of the upstairs tank. We have a Betta named Fabio in a small bowl downstairs. You can't put the Bettas in with the goldfish as they will continue to attack them until they are dead. Had I known Leo was so close to meet his maker I would have put him in the bowl with Fabio. That way he could have gone out with some panache and style. Plus it would entertain poor Fabio who seems rather bored with his existence lately.
I'm debating whether or not to get more fish. If the kids have another wailing fest like they did last time I don't think I could handle any more pet deaths. The little hypocrites hardly ever fed the fish or merely gaze at them in their tank very often. I think we should give them fish sticks for dinner as we break the news to them so the event would be compete with irony.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Dreams of insomnia
Last night I had the weirdest dream that I was awake and I couldn't get to sleep. I was lying in bed watching TV and tossing and turning and getting upset that I wouldn't go to sleep when it was 4:25AM. Then I heard my alarm go off and, of course, it was real life letting me know it was in reality time to get up.
This is about the 3rd or 4th time that I've had this kind of dream. It's really disconcerting to be dreaming that you're all anxious because you can't get to sleep and the next that happens is that your alarm is blaring to wake you up. As a result you don't even feel like you've slept those 8 hours at all. The line between feeling normal and feeling disconnected from reality becomes awfully blurry as a result. It takes at least 2 hours to recover from this sort of dream. I've had horrible nightmares of being stabbed to death or being stalked by a killer chainsaw wielding maniac and those dreams don't affect me past 15 minutes of wakefulness like this stupid dream has.
One of the ways that I know that I'm slipping into a manic mood is that I don't need as much sleep or can't get to sleep. So, if I'm dreaming about not being able to sleep is that a cue that I will be having some manic dreams? What sucks even more is that I can't remember the last time that I had a sex dream. I guess I'm past my sexual prime and my subconscious mind knows it.
I suppose the weirdest moment in dreams is when you realize that you are indeed dreaming but don't wake up. Nonetheless, I still don't have that ability to control my dreams when I have the mental awareness of being in REM. The only control that I seem to exhibit is that if something scary or bad happens I can tell myself it's just a dream and wake myself up. The ultimate nightmare scenario would be if I couldn't wake myself.
That sentiment, of course, goes back to my fear of sleep since I relate sleeping to death. Back when my anxiety was full blown I had terrible insomnia and was afraid to go to sleep just because I was concerned that I might not ever wake up. Letting go of your conscious mind is somewhat like dying, at least it is to me. Slipping into sleep is a mental release that I still need to do to this day. I essentially give myself permission to sleep.
Yeah, I'm pretty fucked in the head, aren't I?
This is about the 3rd or 4th time that I've had this kind of dream. It's really disconcerting to be dreaming that you're all anxious because you can't get to sleep and the next that happens is that your alarm is blaring to wake you up. As a result you don't even feel like you've slept those 8 hours at all. The line between feeling normal and feeling disconnected from reality becomes awfully blurry as a result. It takes at least 2 hours to recover from this sort of dream. I've had horrible nightmares of being stabbed to death or being stalked by a killer chainsaw wielding maniac and those dreams don't affect me past 15 minutes of wakefulness like this stupid dream has.
One of the ways that I know that I'm slipping into a manic mood is that I don't need as much sleep or can't get to sleep. So, if I'm dreaming about not being able to sleep is that a cue that I will be having some manic dreams? What sucks even more is that I can't remember the last time that I had a sex dream. I guess I'm past my sexual prime and my subconscious mind knows it.
I suppose the weirdest moment in dreams is when you realize that you are indeed dreaming but don't wake up. Nonetheless, I still don't have that ability to control my dreams when I have the mental awareness of being in REM. The only control that I seem to exhibit is that if something scary or bad happens I can tell myself it's just a dream and wake myself up. The ultimate nightmare scenario would be if I couldn't wake myself.
That sentiment, of course, goes back to my fear of sleep since I relate sleeping to death. Back when my anxiety was full blown I had terrible insomnia and was afraid to go to sleep just because I was concerned that I might not ever wake up. Letting go of your conscious mind is somewhat like dying, at least it is to me. Slipping into sleep is a mental release that I still need to do to this day. I essentially give myself permission to sleep.
Yeah, I'm pretty fucked in the head, aren't I?
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Thanks for the super geniuses
I'm sitting here watching Nova on PBS and they are talking about dark matter and how they know it exists or else we're completely wrong about the laws of gravity. It's invisible and so far undetectable, yet these scientists are building underground super freezers to detect it. Blah blah blah...
I consider myself a smart guy and while i can understand what they're talking about on shows like Nova, I can't fathom what sort of intelligence it takes to even consider stuff like dark matter. These are people who are super geniuses and represent such a small segment of the population yet they do so much for mankind. These are people who likely are very good at being social yet they continue to contribute in ways that the general public aren't even aware.
99.9999% of us go about our daily routines without worrying about string theory or even how our TV's get pictures, cars drive us to where we need to go, or why dark matter is 5 times more prevalent than ordinary matter. But these super geniuses have their synapses firing on all cylinders and invent, create, theorize and make our lives better.
Thank you super geniuses, you're better than I am and I appreciate what you do for us.
I consider myself a smart guy and while i can understand what they're talking about on shows like Nova, I can't fathom what sort of intelligence it takes to even consider stuff like dark matter. These are people who are super geniuses and represent such a small segment of the population yet they do so much for mankind. These are people who likely are very good at being social yet they continue to contribute in ways that the general public aren't even aware.
99.9999% of us go about our daily routines without worrying about string theory or even how our TV's get pictures, cars drive us to where we need to go, or why dark matter is 5 times more prevalent than ordinary matter. But these super geniuses have their synapses firing on all cylinders and invent, create, theorize and make our lives better.
Thank you super geniuses, you're better than I am and I appreciate what you do for us.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Genetically altered bugs that poop oil
Sounds crazy, right?
It's true!
I found that news story linked on a message board today. To summarize for the lazy-genetically altered yeast producing bacteria and E. Coli Bacteria can ferment sugars to produce carbonless petroleum. The company has just started and obviously mass production isn't possible at this stage, but they could conceivably produce oil at $50 a barrel (current pricing is over $138).
The wonderful thing about capitalism is that if you have a need, someone ultimately fills that need. While a totally unchecked free market creates some inequity and problems (ie. Enron), it does come thru in the clutch.
I look forward to putting bug poop into my car and I hope I see the day.
It's true!
I found that news story linked on a message board today. To summarize for the lazy-genetically altered yeast producing bacteria and E. Coli Bacteria can ferment sugars to produce carbonless petroleum. The company has just started and obviously mass production isn't possible at this stage, but they could conceivably produce oil at $50 a barrel (current pricing is over $138).
The wonderful thing about capitalism is that if you have a need, someone ultimately fills that need. While a totally unchecked free market creates some inequity and problems (ie. Enron), it does come thru in the clutch.
I look forward to putting bug poop into my car and I hope I see the day.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Thursday, May 29, 2008
The Come Shot
Anyone who has watched a small modicum of porn (which I dare say is 99.9% of us) knows that unless there's a girl on girl scene, any scene in the movie will always end with a come shot. The true porn aficionado will point out that there are movies eloquently named "cream pies" where the man comes inside the actress. The scene will end with a lovely closeup of her vagina or anus dripping with semen. I argue that such movies are fetish oriented and deviate away from the norm. (how wonderful that we are talking about what's normal in porn!!)
If you haven't already clicked away from this blog entry yet then good, you understand what I'm talking about here. The whole thing lately has been irking me. Why is there a need to see the man's satisfaction come to a head? (I really have to be careful with the mis-intended puns here) I guess I'm weird for even caring about this as I usually turn off the porn and start looking for tissues before I even get to the come shot (or even the 2nd position change). If you catch my drift...
What's even stranger is that by having to show the come shot, the porn actors do stuff that we usually don't even consider doing because it wouldn't feel natural or as good as coming inside the mouth, vagina or anus. What I mean here is, that I wouldn't ordinarily pull out a few moments before having to ejaculate so I can come all over my wife's stomach, back, ass, face, hair, chest or eye unless I was practicing poor birth control. (and we all know how well THAT works!! coughJonathancough )
I suppose the feminist in me thinks that by emphasizing the man's pleasure, porn is inherently sexist.
Well, duhhhhh!!
Besides, women are capable of multiple orgasms. So, my sympathy towards sexism in porn is somewhat limited by that fact. You should also note that I say "capable", so if you're a woman who isn't having multiple orgasms I don't want to hear it unless your name is Lynn and you've been lying to me all these years.
The more I began to think of the cinematic nature of the come shot, the more I've noticed come shots in other genres aside from porn.
No, I'm not suggesting that men are ejaculating on a regular basis in summer action movies or on the local news. But, look carefully when watching certain formulaic shows and you'll see what I'm alluding to. The most obvious being a cooking show. For a half hour you watch this chef/cook prepare one or several dishes. The show usually doesn't end with a slow fade out on the food. No, the chef leans over his or hers own creation and takes a big bite and comments on how wonderful it is. The look of satisfaction on their faces is eerily similar to what's going on during the come shot in porn. You could probably photo-crop Rachel Ray's face while she's says, "Yummm-O!!" onto the body of John Holmes and get the same effect. (yet I have a feeling we're talking about fetish porn again)
I suppose all hard work (here we go with the puns again) deserves some attention and recognition and the come shot lets us see that every good deed gets its reward. It's just smacks of being creepy and cliche at the same time and that's not an easy thing to do.
If you haven't already clicked away from this blog entry yet then good, you understand what I'm talking about here. The whole thing lately has been irking me. Why is there a need to see the man's satisfaction come to a head? (I really have to be careful with the mis-intended puns here) I guess I'm weird for even caring about this as I usually turn off the porn and start looking for tissues before I even get to the come shot (or even the 2nd position change). If you catch my drift...
What's even stranger is that by having to show the come shot, the porn actors do stuff that we usually don't even consider doing because it wouldn't feel natural or as good as coming inside the mouth, vagina or anus. What I mean here is, that I wouldn't ordinarily pull out a few moments before having to ejaculate so I can come all over my wife's stomach, back, ass, face, hair, chest or eye unless I was practicing poor birth control. (and we all know how well THAT works!! coughJonathancough )
I suppose the feminist in me thinks that by emphasizing the man's pleasure, porn is inherently sexist.
Well, duhhhhh!!
Besides, women are capable of multiple orgasms. So, my sympathy towards sexism in porn is somewhat limited by that fact. You should also note that I say "capable", so if you're a woman who isn't having multiple orgasms I don't want to hear it unless your name is Lynn and you've been lying to me all these years.
The more I began to think of the cinematic nature of the come shot, the more I've noticed come shots in other genres aside from porn.
No, I'm not suggesting that men are ejaculating on a regular basis in summer action movies or on the local news. But, look carefully when watching certain formulaic shows and you'll see what I'm alluding to. The most obvious being a cooking show. For a half hour you watch this chef/cook prepare one or several dishes. The show usually doesn't end with a slow fade out on the food. No, the chef leans over his or hers own creation and takes a big bite and comments on how wonderful it is. The look of satisfaction on their faces is eerily similar to what's going on during the come shot in porn. You could probably photo-crop Rachel Ray's face while she's says, "Yummm-O!!" onto the body of John Holmes and get the same effect. (yet I have a feeling we're talking about fetish porn again)
I suppose all hard work (here we go with the puns again) deserves some attention and recognition and the come shot lets us see that every good deed gets its reward. It's just smacks of being creepy and cliche at the same time and that's not an easy thing to do.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Who's Ed McMahon?!!
Just this past Saturday night I played in my regular home game and poker tournament. (report coming up tonight or tomorrow) At the final table I am sandwiched in between two guys in their early 20's, Tim and Chris. I was fairly manic-y that night as I usually am during poker events. The previous night I was up until 3am with insomnia due to racy thoughts. So fueled solely on a manic high I was more Brian-ish than usual. (Wow, two made up words in one paragraph!!) I was singing at times. I was making inappropriate jokes (like joking about Tom sucking on his Mother's tit with her right next to him). I was also doing silly impersonations. In other words, I was my usual obnoxious self.
Certain phrases and words said by others were triggering my brain to sing songs that those words or phrases reminded me of. So, when someone announced that he had a pair of sixes by saying, "I got sixes", the Schoolhouse Rock song, I Got Six popped into my head and I started to sing it. Tim curiously started to look at me as I was singing the song, "I got six, that's all there is. Six times one is six- one times six." "Is that a made up song?", he queried.
I fully expect someone of Tim's age and generation to not know the Schoolhouse Rock catalog of songs. Especially as I Got Six is one of the more obscure and less popular ones. The Schoolhouse Rock animated shorts were beloved by my generation as they played in between the usual mix of Saturday morning cartoons. Most of my core knowledge of the multiplication tables, American History and the preamble to the constitution, basic science and human physiology and grammar was due to me being a typical kid couch potato every Saturday morning. I weep for Tim's generation as they did not have Schoolhouse Rock's catchy tunes beaten into their young impressionable brains. He did a have a glimmer of recognition when I told him it was the same guys who made I'm Just a Bill and Conjunction Junction.
I felt a touch old as I thought about that but then I felt even older a few minutes after that. After a interesting card came out on the turn on one hand I screamed, "Hey-o!!" in my best Ed McMahon impersonation. (well, it really was an impersonation of the late, great Phil Hartman impersonating Ed, but you get my point.) I followed up my initial Ed catch-phrase with a "You are correct sir!" and an Ed laugh. Chris then asks me, "Who are you impersonating?" I didn't know if I should be insulted as I thought Chris didn't recognize the impersonation because I was doing it poorly. I sheepishly replied, "Ed McMahon" Then the shock and awe bombing began with the next question from Chris-
"Who's Ed McMahon?"
"Are you serious?!" I incredulously replied somewhat out of line.
After some explaining that Ed was Johnny Carson's sidekick on the Tonight Show and he's the guy who delivers the big Clearinghouse sweepstakes check, he did know who Ed McMahon was. He then made the comparison to him being an Andy Richter and since he was close enough, I let the subject drop. A person who was a pop culture icon to my generation and to the 2 or 3 generations before me was becoming a footnote.
Don't get me wrong, I don't think Chris is dumb or anything like that for not knowing who Ed McMahon is. Quite the contrary as Chris appears to me to be a very intelligent, mature and funny young man. (good poker player too) Looking up the tonight Show on wiki, I see that Ed and Johnny said their goodbyes in 1992. While 1992 doesn't seem all that long ago to me, it's 16 years!! Chris was around 7 years old when Ed for the most part left the TV scene. Unless Chris' parents were completely neglectful or had weird ideas about when to put children to bed and what to let him watch on TV, It's understandable that he wouldn't instantly recognize the impression or name as I do. It's just like when I got a dirty look for not knowing who Ernie Kovacs was when I was in college. (I do now, having seen alot of his stuff, he was brilliant and groundbreaking)
So there you have it- what was once a star is now a memory. I am a bigger old fart than I previously thought (yet again, it seems to be getting worse...) and my only solace is knowing that someday Chris might finding himself saying, " 'Who's Andy Richter?!!' How could you not know who Andy Richter is?!!"
Certain phrases and words said by others were triggering my brain to sing songs that those words or phrases reminded me of. So, when someone announced that he had a pair of sixes by saying, "I got sixes", the Schoolhouse Rock song, I Got Six popped into my head and I started to sing it. Tim curiously started to look at me as I was singing the song, "I got six, that's all there is. Six times one is six- one times six." "Is that a made up song?", he queried.
I fully expect someone of Tim's age and generation to not know the Schoolhouse Rock catalog of songs. Especially as I Got Six is one of the more obscure and less popular ones. The Schoolhouse Rock animated shorts were beloved by my generation as they played in between the usual mix of Saturday morning cartoons. Most of my core knowledge of the multiplication tables, American History and the preamble to the constitution, basic science and human physiology and grammar was due to me being a typical kid couch potato every Saturday morning. I weep for Tim's generation as they did not have Schoolhouse Rock's catchy tunes beaten into their young impressionable brains. He did a have a glimmer of recognition when I told him it was the same guys who made I'm Just a Bill and Conjunction Junction.
I felt a touch old as I thought about that but then I felt even older a few minutes after that. After a interesting card came out on the turn on one hand I screamed, "Hey-o!!" in my best Ed McMahon impersonation. (well, it really was an impersonation of the late, great Phil Hartman impersonating Ed, but you get my point.) I followed up my initial Ed catch-phrase with a "You are correct sir!" and an Ed laugh. Chris then asks me, "Who are you impersonating?" I didn't know if I should be insulted as I thought Chris didn't recognize the impersonation because I was doing it poorly. I sheepishly replied, "Ed McMahon" Then the shock and awe bombing began with the next question from Chris-
"Who's Ed McMahon?"
"Are you serious?!" I incredulously replied somewhat out of line.
After some explaining that Ed was Johnny Carson's sidekick on the Tonight Show and he's the guy who delivers the big Clearinghouse sweepstakes check, he did know who Ed McMahon was. He then made the comparison to him being an Andy Richter and since he was close enough, I let the subject drop. A person who was a pop culture icon to my generation and to the 2 or 3 generations before me was becoming a footnote.
Don't get me wrong, I don't think Chris is dumb or anything like that for not knowing who Ed McMahon is. Quite the contrary as Chris appears to me to be a very intelligent, mature and funny young man. (good poker player too) Looking up the tonight Show on wiki, I see that Ed and Johnny said their goodbyes in 1992. While 1992 doesn't seem all that long ago to me, it's 16 years!! Chris was around 7 years old when Ed for the most part left the TV scene. Unless Chris' parents were completely neglectful or had weird ideas about when to put children to bed and what to let him watch on TV, It's understandable that he wouldn't instantly recognize the impression or name as I do. It's just like when I got a dirty look for not knowing who Ernie Kovacs was when I was in college. (I do now, having seen alot of his stuff, he was brilliant and groundbreaking)
So there you have it- what was once a star is now a memory. I am a bigger old fart than I previously thought (yet again, it seems to be getting worse...) and my only solace is knowing that someday Chris might finding himself saying, " 'Who's Andy Richter?!!' How could you not know who Andy Richter is?!!"
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
The birthday blues
April 24th is my birthday- brace yourselves for a "woe is me" kind of entry!!
I think since I've turned 30 I've looked less and less forward to birthdays to the point where I start to dread them. Tomorrow I turn 38. While it's no milestone birthday, it still sounds incredibly old to me. Besides, with my 10th wedding anniversary and 20th high school reunion approaching this year, I don't think I could stomach another milestone like turning 40. (like my brother did 2 months ago)
While I realize tomorrow I'm just another day older, the event itself is like a hard poke to your side ribs and a lingering painful reminder of my mortality. Despite the best efforts of my wife and kids to make me happy, I'm sure I''ll end up being a dour piece of ungrateful shit during the whole festive event. This, of course, will lead to Lynn getting upset that she can't make me happy and she'll get all pissy as well. At least misery loves company?
If I get this crummy when I turn 38 just imagine how hard "mid-life" crisis is going to hit me when I get to be in my 50's. (altho-technically if I live to 76 like I'm supposed to then I'm in "mid-life" right now.) I sure hope I'll have enough money to blow on hookers and exotic sports cars or else I may just have to become a serial killer that goes around killing people in their 20's because I'm jealous of their youthfulness and vitality.
Also- please spare me your "38 is the new 28" and "you're only as old as you feel" comments. I will hunt you down by your IP address and get an early start on my new psychotic career.
Happy fucking birthday to me.
I think since I've turned 30 I've looked less and less forward to birthdays to the point where I start to dread them. Tomorrow I turn 38. While it's no milestone birthday, it still sounds incredibly old to me. Besides, with my 10th wedding anniversary and 20th high school reunion approaching this year, I don't think I could stomach another milestone like turning 40. (like my brother did 2 months ago)
While I realize tomorrow I'm just another day older, the event itself is like a hard poke to your side ribs and a lingering painful reminder of my mortality. Despite the best efforts of my wife and kids to make me happy, I'm sure I''ll end up being a dour piece of ungrateful shit during the whole festive event. This, of course, will lead to Lynn getting upset that she can't make me happy and she'll get all pissy as well. At least misery loves company?
If I get this crummy when I turn 38 just imagine how hard "mid-life" crisis is going to hit me when I get to be in my 50's. (altho-technically if I live to 76 like I'm supposed to then I'm in "mid-life" right now.) I sure hope I'll have enough money to blow on hookers and exotic sports cars or else I may just have to become a serial killer that goes around killing people in their 20's because I'm jealous of their youthfulness and vitality.
Also- please spare me your "38 is the new 28" and "you're only as old as you feel" comments. I will hunt you down by your IP address and get an early start on my new psychotic career.
Happy fucking birthday to me.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Unfiltered
I feel like my brain has no filter or self editing feature. I am often impulsive and say whatever comes to mind without much concern for what I'm saying. As quick witted as I can be at times, I sometimes come off as being flat out obnoxious. My manic mind speeds along too fast and I must skip the filtering process of thinking to myself- "Is this a good idea?" Most of my friends and family are aware of this and as a result I have no shock impact anymore. "That's just Brian." is a common sentiment held by my in-laws.
This opinion that is held of me, of course, allows for a certain amount of freedom. Even back in college I could reach out and grab some of my female friend's breasts and get little to no reaction or indignation. "That's just Brian." after all. Copping a free feel was among the perks of being a lovable lunatic. Even recently, I've been able to tell my in-laws to their face that they're harder to get rid of than Herpes. (in regards to how long they stay after a party or event has ended)
Don't get me wrong, I'm sure my words and actions have impact, even if it isn't shocking. However, the impact is freeing because it allows me to say things through humor that I wouldn't ordinarily be able to say with a straight face.
Needless to say it does get me into trouble. My brother-in-law isn't a big fan of mine and he's probably one of the few people I tend to step on eggshells when I'm around him. It also leads to some interesting moments....
Last week I was driving back from running some errands in town and I was driving past the adult book store on Upper State Road. I noticed a guy in his 50's get out of his car in the front parking lot. The store has it's own lot, so there really wasn't any good reason for him to be there other than to buy some porn or sex toys. Far be it of me to judge a man for this. I certainly have gotten my porn urges on as well. Heck, I think it's unhealthy to not watch porn sometimes. Even if he were to get gay, bondage, rape, scat porn I couldn't care less what gets this guy turned on and I will fight for his right to walk into a porn shop and get said filth.
Despite my firmly held beliefs, I rolled down my window and screamed, "PERVERT!!"
It was pretty funny actually, he jumped and walked faster into the store. He probably thinks I was some moralistic nut job.
He's only half right.
This opinion that is held of me, of course, allows for a certain amount of freedom. Even back in college I could reach out and grab some of my female friend's breasts and get little to no reaction or indignation. "That's just Brian." after all. Copping a free feel was among the perks of being a lovable lunatic. Even recently, I've been able to tell my in-laws to their face that they're harder to get rid of than Herpes. (in regards to how long they stay after a party or event has ended)
Don't get me wrong, I'm sure my words and actions have impact, even if it isn't shocking. However, the impact is freeing because it allows me to say things through humor that I wouldn't ordinarily be able to say with a straight face.
Needless to say it does get me into trouble. My brother-in-law isn't a big fan of mine and he's probably one of the few people I tend to step on eggshells when I'm around him. It also leads to some interesting moments....
Last week I was driving back from running some errands in town and I was driving past the adult book store on Upper State Road. I noticed a guy in his 50's get out of his car in the front parking lot. The store has it's own lot, so there really wasn't any good reason for him to be there other than to buy some porn or sex toys. Far be it of me to judge a man for this. I certainly have gotten my porn urges on as well. Heck, I think it's unhealthy to not watch porn sometimes. Even if he were to get gay, bondage, rape, scat porn I couldn't care less what gets this guy turned on and I will fight for his right to walk into a porn shop and get said filth.
Despite my firmly held beliefs, I rolled down my window and screamed, "PERVERT!!"
It was pretty funny actually, he jumped and walked faster into the store. He probably thinks I was some moralistic nut job.
He's only half right.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Oh thank goodness!!
Well it finally appears that I've been doing something right all these years!
A survey of sex therapists has revealed that quickies are indeed the way to go. Aside from the occasional whiskey dick, my performances usually don't make it past the halfway point of a Phish performance of Run Like an Antelope. Now, if only the survey could relieve me of my other bedroom worry and my perceived...uh...shortcomings. Deep down I have a hidden desire to move to Asia so I won't have press up so damn close to the urinal in fear that I am the smallest man in the room.
Reading further down I see that length of foreplay still seems to be the prevalent problem and concern of most partners. I guess the whole idea still seems foreign to me. Usually all it takes is for me to pinch my wife's ass and I'm sportin' wood. Hell, sometimes a gentle breeze is a nice pick me up or even a Jergins lotion commercial will get the blood flowing.
I've always contended that it's a good thing that we don't mate like most mammals and have our women go into heat, although, it would be quite interesting. I could just imagine that about 10 times a year a woman would walk into a bar and start screaming "Fuck Me!!" and raise her behind into the air and "present" herself. At that point all of the alpha males would either start fighting each other or pissing all over the place to mark their territory. In either case, it would get quite messy until things get sorted out, but there would be no talk of not enough foreplay, I'll tell you that much.
A survey of sex therapists has revealed that quickies are indeed the way to go. Aside from the occasional whiskey dick, my performances usually don't make it past the halfway point of a Phish performance of Run Like an Antelope. Now, if only the survey could relieve me of my other bedroom worry and my perceived...uh...shortcomings. Deep down I have a hidden desire to move to Asia so I won't have press up so damn close to the urinal in fear that I am the smallest man in the room.
Reading further down I see that length of foreplay still seems to be the prevalent problem and concern of most partners. I guess the whole idea still seems foreign to me. Usually all it takes is for me to pinch my wife's ass and I'm sportin' wood. Hell, sometimes a gentle breeze is a nice pick me up or even a Jergins lotion commercial will get the blood flowing.
I've always contended that it's a good thing that we don't mate like most mammals and have our women go into heat, although, it would be quite interesting. I could just imagine that about 10 times a year a woman would walk into a bar and start screaming "Fuck Me!!" and raise her behind into the air and "present" herself. At that point all of the alpha males would either start fighting each other or pissing all over the place to mark their territory. In either case, it would get quite messy until things get sorted out, but there would be no talk of not enough foreplay, I'll tell you that much.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Help! My wife is becoming an addict!
My wife, Lynn, is not a fan of video games. I think her dislike stems largely from the fact that she isn't very good at them. I must admit that once you get past an Atari joystick, with its one button and one motion control that most controllers, with it's 6 buttons, 2 motion controllers and 2 triggers, can seem daunting to those who don't wish to keep practicing. So once she heard that the Wii is more intuitive with its motion detector from her coworkers (a bunch of 50+ women), she started to express her desire for us to get a Wii. One mention was all it took for me and I immediately starting seeking one out. (see previous blog)
When I bought the Wii I purchased 2 games to go along with it aside from the fun sports games that it comes with- Super Mario Galaxy and Wii Carnival. The Carnival game I bought because it had skee ball in it and my wife loves to play skee ball whenever we're at the shore or at an amusement park. I figure it would best to keep her happy when it came to the Wii so she wouldn't feel buyer's remorse if the bulk of games weren't up her alley. (excuse the pun)
Lynn works the graveyard shift at a local hospital as a lab tech. So if you're in the ER in the middle of the night for crashing your car while DUI, she may be the one who's testing your urine to see how drunk you are. She may also be the one who types your blood so you get the much needed replenishment from all of your bleeding from your massive head injuries, you dumb ass! (Driving drunk, what were you thinking?!) The schedule works out fine while our kids are young. She gets home at 8am, just when I need to leave for work, and puts them on the bus at 8:45am and then goes to sleep until 4pm, when they get home. No day care expenses is a wonderful thing.
The problem is that she needs to get to sleep right after the kiddies leave. It's barely 7 hours if she were to fall asleep right away but usually she needs to wind down a touch and she's happy to fall asleep at 9:30am.
The past week and a half I have been getting calls at work around 10:30am from her. The tone of her voice is the frantic type of ranting that most spouses recognize as when to shut up, listen as best as one can, and then reassure them despite what one thinks. (because if one doesn't then you can kiss sex good bye for at least a week.) I tried my best to keep up with what she was saying and I heard bits and pieces like, "...I can get the ball in the 100 point hole when I snap the remote against my shoulder.." and "..knock all of the clowns down with the ball.." and "...but, no, the damn remote won't fucking respond the way it should..." It was becoming apparent that she is getting addicted to the Carnival game.
The first few calls I figured she was just blowing off steam from a hard night's work. Now I am getting worried that if the trend continues I may fear for my and my children's safety. I can just imagine her forcibly grabbing a remote from their hands and hissing, "Mine! I'm the one who worked hard into the nights for this!! My precioussssss!!" I worry that on the nights when she's off and that she's in bed with me, that she may start wildly flailing her arms around in her sleep as if she were trying to get the damn ball into the stupid fucking 100 point hole. I may suffer a serious eye injury or worse she may impale my crotch as she's trying to bang the remote.
As a crazy person, I readily recognize crazy behavior in others. Obsessing over an activity that causes your endorphin levels to rise is something that is no stranger to me. I am a poker addict and I used to be a smoker. I wish I knew how to stop her from self-destruction, but alas, nothing really worked for me until I hit rock bottom. I guess I'll have to idly stand by and wait until she falls so that I can catch her.
I wonder which will come first- rock bottom or getting the stupid fucking ball in the Goddamned 100 point hole?
When I bought the Wii I purchased 2 games to go along with it aside from the fun sports games that it comes with- Super Mario Galaxy and Wii Carnival. The Carnival game I bought because it had skee ball in it and my wife loves to play skee ball whenever we're at the shore or at an amusement park. I figure it would best to keep her happy when it came to the Wii so she wouldn't feel buyer's remorse if the bulk of games weren't up her alley. (excuse the pun)
Lynn works the graveyard shift at a local hospital as a lab tech. So if you're in the ER in the middle of the night for crashing your car while DUI, she may be the one who's testing your urine to see how drunk you are. She may also be the one who types your blood so you get the much needed replenishment from all of your bleeding from your massive head injuries, you dumb ass! (Driving drunk, what were you thinking?!) The schedule works out fine while our kids are young. She gets home at 8am, just when I need to leave for work, and puts them on the bus at 8:45am and then goes to sleep until 4pm, when they get home. No day care expenses is a wonderful thing.
The problem is that she needs to get to sleep right after the kiddies leave. It's barely 7 hours if she were to fall asleep right away but usually she needs to wind down a touch and she's happy to fall asleep at 9:30am.
The past week and a half I have been getting calls at work around 10:30am from her. The tone of her voice is the frantic type of ranting that most spouses recognize as when to shut up, listen as best as one can, and then reassure them despite what one thinks. (because if one doesn't then you can kiss sex good bye for at least a week.) I tried my best to keep up with what she was saying and I heard bits and pieces like, "...I can get the ball in the 100 point hole when I snap the remote against my shoulder.." and "..knock all of the clowns down with the ball.." and "...but, no, the damn remote won't fucking respond the way it should..." It was becoming apparent that she is getting addicted to the Carnival game.
The first few calls I figured she was just blowing off steam from a hard night's work. Now I am getting worried that if the trend continues I may fear for my and my children's safety. I can just imagine her forcibly grabbing a remote from their hands and hissing, "Mine! I'm the one who worked hard into the nights for this!! My precioussssss!!" I worry that on the nights when she's off and that she's in bed with me, that she may start wildly flailing her arms around in her sleep as if she were trying to get the damn ball into the stupid fucking 100 point hole. I may suffer a serious eye injury or worse she may impale my crotch as she's trying to bang the remote.
As a crazy person, I readily recognize crazy behavior in others. Obsessing over an activity that causes your endorphin levels to rise is something that is no stranger to me. I am a poker addict and I used to be a smoker. I wish I knew how to stop her from self-destruction, but alas, nothing really worked for me until I hit rock bottom. I guess I'll have to idly stand by and wait until she falls so that I can catch her.
I wonder which will come first- rock bottom or getting the stupid fucking ball in the Goddamned 100 point hole?
Friday, March 7, 2008
First an extra day of work and now we lose an hour of sleep?!
WTF?!
Just recently I had to work an extra day without additional pay (see leap year post), now you're telling me that this weekend we have to lose an hour of sleep because we have to "spring forward"?!!
Who was the Einstein who thought up this friggin' bright idea? It's the middle of the night and we're supposed to skip ahead an hour?!
Hey!! I have an idea!! - here's what we should do instead!
When it's time in the spring to set the clocks ahead an hour, how 'bout we do it at 4pm on a Friday?! That way the large majority of us will get to go home an extra hour early!
Brilliant!!!
But NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! Those evil corporate bastards would never go for that idea and they would never let their political lobbies allow their paid off congressmen and senators vote for such an idea.
sigh
Just recently I had to work an extra day without additional pay (see leap year post), now you're telling me that this weekend we have to lose an hour of sleep because we have to "spring forward"?!!
Who was the Einstein who thought up this friggin' bright idea? It's the middle of the night and we're supposed to skip ahead an hour?!
Hey!! I have an idea!! - here's what we should do instead!
When it's time in the spring to set the clocks ahead an hour, how 'bout we do it at 4pm on a Friday?! That way the large majority of us will get to go home an extra hour early!
Brilliant!!!
But NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! Those evil corporate bastards would never go for that idea and they would never let their political lobbies allow their paid off congressmen and senators vote for such an idea.
sigh
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
My mp3 player is reading my mind!!
I realize that this sounds completely made up or I've gone off the deep end (finally!!) but I swear on my left testicle that it's true.
This morning when I was ready to leave for work it was pouring rain. Dummy me, I left my umbrella in my car, so I had to make a break for it and I got soaked as I ran to my car. Once inside I started up my mp3 player and hit the shuffle button. I have 641 songs on the player, it's supposed to hold 1000 songs but I have alot of jam band songs that last 10 minutes or longer on the player, so I'm actually surprised it holds that many. So out of the 641 songs I have, it decides to play "Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head". Now I know most of you are wondering why the hell I have that song on my player. But I allow myself some guilty pleasures like BJ Thomas and Barry Manilow, thank you very much.
Of course I recognize that the apt song playing at that particular time was a small coincidence. But just then- I drove through a large puddle and swerved and lost control of the car a bit. The Blind Melon song, "No Rain" came from the mp3 player.
I quickly called my wife and told her how freaked out I was and how my mp3 player was the devil or possessed by demons or it was magical and it will somehow lead us to the promised land. She scoffed at me (yet again) and I hung up the phone. I turned onto Bristol Road in Warrington as the clouds were parting and the sun started to peek it's way through. "Here Comes the Sun" by the Beatles was the next tune the shuffle produced for me.
I called my wife yet again sounding even crazier than before. "It's trying to tell me something!!" My son Gabriel also picked up the phone and started to laugh at me. My own son, a non-believer. I hung up the phone and screamed frantically at the player-
"What is it that you want?! Tell Me!!"
I hit the next song button.
"Hold Me" by Fleetwood Mac came on.
Stupid me. It had wanted what everyone wants, a little love and attention. How could I have not seen this before? I held the credit card sized player gently and caressed it's display and whispered, "shhhhh...there, there, poor sweet baby"
I think it liked that as it started to play, "And You and I" by Yes.
When I arrived at work I knew our short but intense affair had to end. No one could ever understand how two things so different could be together. I had to turn off the player and right before I did it started to play, "Let Forever Be" by the Chemical Brothers.
Yes my little mp3 player, I will let forever be.
This morning when I was ready to leave for work it was pouring rain. Dummy me, I left my umbrella in my car, so I had to make a break for it and I got soaked as I ran to my car. Once inside I started up my mp3 player and hit the shuffle button. I have 641 songs on the player, it's supposed to hold 1000 songs but I have alot of jam band songs that last 10 minutes or longer on the player, so I'm actually surprised it holds that many. So out of the 641 songs I have, it decides to play "Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head". Now I know most of you are wondering why the hell I have that song on my player. But I allow myself some guilty pleasures like BJ Thomas and Barry Manilow, thank you very much.
Of course I recognize that the apt song playing at that particular time was a small coincidence. But just then- I drove through a large puddle and swerved and lost control of the car a bit. The Blind Melon song, "No Rain" came from the mp3 player.
I quickly called my wife and told her how freaked out I was and how my mp3 player was the devil or possessed by demons or it was magical and it will somehow lead us to the promised land. She scoffed at me (yet again) and I hung up the phone. I turned onto Bristol Road in Warrington as the clouds were parting and the sun started to peek it's way through. "Here Comes the Sun" by the Beatles was the next tune the shuffle produced for me.
I called my wife yet again sounding even crazier than before. "It's trying to tell me something!!" My son Gabriel also picked up the phone and started to laugh at me. My own son, a non-believer. I hung up the phone and screamed frantically at the player-
"What is it that you want?! Tell Me!!"
I hit the next song button.
"Hold Me" by Fleetwood Mac came on.
Stupid me. It had wanted what everyone wants, a little love and attention. How could I have not seen this before? I held the credit card sized player gently and caressed it's display and whispered, "shhhhh...there, there, poor sweet baby"
I think it liked that as it started to play, "And You and I" by Yes.
When I arrived at work I knew our short but intense affair had to end. No one could ever understand how two things so different could be together. I had to turn off the player and right before I did it started to play, "Let Forever Be" by the Chemical Brothers.
Yes my little mp3 player, I will let forever be.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
I've arrived!
There are moments when you come to the realization that you've really accomplished something.
An hour ago I typed the following into the Google search engine:
"Poker Phillies Bipolar"
The very 1st result was this blog.
(strangely enough my friend Chris is number 2 and even though he's nuts he isn't bipolar)
A tear came strolling down my cheek after I saw that.
3 relatively common words and I'm the number one on the interwebs. My kids will be so proud.
I'm number 1!! I'm number 1!!!
An hour ago I typed the following into the Google search engine:
"Poker Phillies Bipolar"
The very 1st result was this blog.
(strangely enough my friend Chris is number 2 and even though he's nuts he isn't bipolar)
A tear came strolling down my cheek after I saw that.
3 relatively common words and I'm the number one on the interwebs. My kids will be so proud.
I'm number 1!! I'm number 1!!!
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Ooops, she did it again.
I just want to say that I called it over a year ago. Even before the "smacking a car window with an umbrella while sporting a shaved head" incident, I sensed that Britney Spears was bipolar. While I won't be crying on youtube to leave Britney alone, I probably have more sympathy for her than the regular Joe.
As much as people have delighted in seeing Britney self-destruct, (our society loves to bring down that which they brought up) I have been cringing and have had repressed memories of my young adulthood come to light. For those not in the know, many mental disorders have their onset and often hit their debilitating peak during young adulthood. Bipolarism is no exception; 20-24 was hell for me and I'm amazed I'm still here and I was never hospitalized.
If you take someone who is bipolar, who is an early 20-something and then throw in some sort of significant stressful situation- well, you'll have what we're witnessing in the tabloids. Fortunately for me, I wasn't followed by hordes of paparazzi to document the whole experience because I had similar factors at that period of my life. My parents went through a separation at the time, I was struggling in college and my behavior and mannerisms weren't pretty to say the least. (although, admittedly there was some fun amidst the madness)
There is a certain freedom to going off the edge. You have no sense of consequence and immediate gratification (however jumbled it appears to the outside world) is your only desire. I'm sure Britney's recent hospitalization won't be the last. However, the silver lining is that it's likely she'll learn to cope, find the right mix of meds and come to terms with her disorder like I have. Most of us manic-depressives do in today's modern medical world. So, I will look forward to seeing Britney tramping it up on the stage again in the future. Heck, with this life experience, she may even be profoundly slutty and poignantly whorish.
As much as people have delighted in seeing Britney self-destruct, (our society loves to bring down that which they brought up) I have been cringing and have had repressed memories of my young adulthood come to light. For those not in the know, many mental disorders have their onset and often hit their debilitating peak during young adulthood. Bipolarism is no exception; 20-24 was hell for me and I'm amazed I'm still here and I was never hospitalized.
If you take someone who is bipolar, who is an early 20-something and then throw in some sort of significant stressful situation- well, you'll have what we're witnessing in the tabloids. Fortunately for me, I wasn't followed by hordes of paparazzi to document the whole experience because I had similar factors at that period of my life. My parents went through a separation at the time, I was struggling in college and my behavior and mannerisms weren't pretty to say the least. (although, admittedly there was some fun amidst the madness)
There is a certain freedom to going off the edge. You have no sense of consequence and immediate gratification (however jumbled it appears to the outside world) is your only desire. I'm sure Britney's recent hospitalization won't be the last. However, the silver lining is that it's likely she'll learn to cope, find the right mix of meds and come to terms with her disorder like I have. Most of us manic-depressives do in today's modern medical world. So, I will look forward to seeing Britney tramping it up on the stage again in the future. Heck, with this life experience, she may even be profoundly slutty and poignantly whorish.
Monday, January 7, 2008
New features
Added 2 new features for your enjoyment-
The first is song recommendations for the week, usually I'll post 3 songs that I'm currently "into" and think some of you might enjoy. Eventually I'll start posting live songs and show dates.
Next is my bi-polar mood meter to let you know you all know how I'm feeling at that particular moment. I haven't been really "bad" as far as severe mood swings in a few years now, so don't get too worried if you see an top or bottom mood as it's probably just a quick phase. If I'm feeling off the charts, don't worry about having to take action because I doubt that I would post anything during those periods anyways...
The first is song recommendations for the week, usually I'll post 3 songs that I'm currently "into" and think some of you might enjoy. Eventually I'll start posting live songs and show dates.
Next is my bi-polar mood meter to let you know you all know how I'm feeling at that particular moment. I haven't been really "bad" as far as severe mood swings in a few years now, so don't get too worried if you see an top or bottom mood as it's probably just a quick phase. If I'm feeling off the charts, don't worry about having to take action because I doubt that I would post anything during those periods anyways...
Monday, December 24, 2007
OMFG !! X-MAS IS ALMOST HERE!!
GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! I WANT MY PRESENTS!!!!
Monday, December 10, 2007
Wow, I've started a blog!
Considering how anti-blog I've been thru the years, this is a huge step for me. I've always viewed blogs as mostly masterbatory and self-indulgent and to a certain extent I still do view them that way. However, I find myself reading more and more blogs these days. It started by reading blogs of those I knew personally and it's spread out to people that I know only thru message boards and now I read some blogs of people that I couldn't care less about if they got hit by a bus today. Sure, most blog posts mean nothing in the grand scheme of things, but dammit, I'm an attention whore and it's time to swallow some pride and admit that people will read these inane and insane ramblings. So, egotism be damned and full steam ahead- it's time to start posting my own crazy thoughts and opinions on whatever strikes my fancy on any particular day.
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