Game On...

Normally, I am extremely interested in what a girl has to say. Only if words match features does my interest really become piqued. Sure, I thought what you had to say was definately worthwhile, but more importantly, I thought what you said evidences what is fueling that raging beauty you managed to capture in a tiny little digital rectangle. Hat's off to you JB, I'm gonna not cancel my subscription tomorrow like I was gonna and wait one more month until you get off the fence and pony up some cash in order to respond to my urgent request... Hurry, I'm sick of this site.

Hello,
Urgent request granted. I paid up today, and am moving to LA on Sunday. Much movement. Not sure how to proceed from here; I guess feel free to send me an email or call me when I get into town and in all cases tell me your name.

Half a Man with Two Names

Years ago, I met this girl. I didn't realize she was a girl at first, just a personality that I wanted to connect with more and more. Time rolled by and we became good friends. A little too good if you know what I mean. You probably don't know what I mean. What I mean is, you're probably somewhat normal and thinking that we were getting it on or at least kissed or something. That's not what I meant at all, although I wish it were. I meant that I was really into her. I mean, really into her. I thought she was beautiful and smart as hell. We got along so well that I didn't even bother to assume that she felt somewhat similarly about me. I guess I just kinda took it for granted. Like I said, I'm not altogether normal. Had I not taken it for granted, who knows, it might've gone somewhere different. Needless to say, it didn't. It went exactly where it went and that is the unfortunate part. It went clear across the other side of the country following some foreskinned dick I had met enough times to know that it was all a load of crap, one way or another. Whatever, what I know don't mean shit. The story doesn't end there. Or maybe that's where it always ends. It's hard to tell nowadays. Maybe it consistently ends there. Be that as it may, we got back in touch. You see, this connection we have is almost bigger than us both. Given the right circumstances, which are not very hard to come by in this case, we just connect. It's almost effortless, that is if I was the type to never take responsibility for my actions it would've been effortless. No, I'm kind of a dip shit. I actually put my effort into this reunion. Just like the first round, this go was not all that different. Except, maybe, that I and/or she was more determined to make sure that this time there would be no confusion as to whether or not we should be together. To her credit, so to speak, she had a kid with some other dick who happened to be circumcised this time. This pretty much put a lid on things, and thank god. I don't want no baby-momma-drama. He was a cool guy, and hell, I loved the shit out of her so I did all I could to make sure this shit worked out. Turns out, I couldn't really do shit. Hell, it wasn't my relationship and kid, what the fuck am I supposed to do? The kid kept calling me dad. Real awkward, let me tell you. His real dad was already the jealous type and it had taken quite a bit of time before he was somewhat cool with me. Dip shit that I was, I convinced myself that she was only a friend and that I really didn't want to have anything to do with her "in that way". Go figure, she dumps this guy and he thinks it's my fault when I was the guy pushing her to give him every benefit of the doubt and make every effort to make it work. I also told her, when she told me he knocked her up, that she better think long and hard about this one. "You might not think so, but this kid is yours. Don't expect him to be around in the long run." I don't think she wanted to hear that, but what the fuck? someone had to say it. Turns out I was right. Not only did he think it was my fault, which in a twisted, roundabout way I kinda agree with him, but she also came to believe it was my fault too. Unfortunately, she doesn't know this but she doesn't have to. It's her life. More time goes by and again we reconcile on her behest. I'm a little leery, but game as well. Dumb fucker that I am, I fall in love with her all over again. The kid's a little older now and we get along great. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to be the kid's father. If I ended up being some kind of a role model, good or bad, that's his fucking problem. Really, you can't blame me. You can, but if you're honest you'll realize that if you made the same mistake I did and reconnect instead of keeping your distance, you would fall in love with her too. She's fucking smart, except when she's a fucking complete moronic idiot. Beautiful in her own unique way. Funny as a puppy on acid. And from what she tells me, pretty good in bed, except for all that baggage that takes up most of the covers. I wonder sometimes, are my efforts being wasted? Then I wonder, what efforts? I've never really told her how I felt. I've always just tried to show it to her. Maybe I should've kissed her or just stuck my dick in her. It's all academic at this point anyway. Turns out she never gave a shit about me in the first place. Actually, at the time I thought it was cute, but she used to call me Mike. I would love it when she called me Mike. It was like we were sharing our own little secret that no one else was a part of. Til yesterday that is. Yesterday, my dad came by to visit. He walked in and said "Hey, Jon, how've ya been?" Jon is my name. She never knew this. Or to be more precise, she just never paid attention before. I told her numerous times but she kept calling me Mike. "How cute" I thought. Yeah, cute. Real fucking cute. Turns out this lonely feeling I got right now has been there the whole time and I'm just too fucking stupid to have realized what it was. I guess I can't get too angry with her, but I did know her fucking name. I wonder what's gonna happen when we get back together in a couple more years when she ends up dumping her super-rich sugar-daddy and swears off men. I'm sure I'll be the first one she calls.

FROG'S LEGS D'JOUR

I'm fucking pissed. Someone just stepped on my pet frog. Dammit! I just got that hoppin' little fucker. Worst part about it, aside from the juicy mess, his fucking legs are missing. Who the heartless hell would step on a frog and take his fucking legs? That's just sick man. Never mind, it was just a frog. Not like I gave it a name or anything. Shit, I never said anything like, "Hey, Mike the frog, wanna go get a smoothie?" That would've been almost as stupid as stepping on a fucking frog and taking his legs! Man, I just can't get that out of my mind. What the hell does someone do with frog legs? I've never heard of a dog getting run over by a car and someone screaming, "Oh my god! My dog! Where the FUCK are his legs!? I guess weirder shit has happened to me. Like one time I had a girlfriend with a really great ass. One day she told me she loved me. I might've been stupid and young back then but I sure as hell wasn't gullible. I kicked her on that perfect ass of hers and landed her "love" on the porch. Locked the fucking door. "I love you" she said. How fucking weird is that? Nobody says that. Another time was when I was in kindergarten painting some bullshit on some recycled piece of paper when this prissy blond bitch interrupts my artistic fucking expression to tell me that I got paint all over her sweater. "Bitch, I didn't get no fucking paint on you, but if you don't get out of my face I'll get something else on your sweater". I wonder if at that age I could've. Dumb fucker that I am I painted my whole sleeve blue just to keep her from telling the teacher I did something that stupid fucking bitch and I knew I didn't do. But taking a squashed frog's legs? What kind of sick joke is this? I got home from school today and saw my little brother sitting on the couch eating chicken watching his retarded cartoons with this shit-eating grin on his face. Everything seemed normal 'til I got up to my room and found a legless squashed frog on my floor. SHIT...

Paper Balloons

You know when you sometimes see balloons flying high in the sky without their owners? Today I say a piece of paper wafting through the atmosphere a good 500 feet above level ground. It was the first time I saw a lone piece of paper floating so high. A weird sight to say the least. I was thinkin', what's a piece of paper doing all by itself way up there. It looked like an ad page. I know what I do when I get those colorful pieces of junk mail at home, right in the trash. This one obviously had enough of the neglect. Not only does no one pay any attention to those things in the first place but what about the paper itself? Always trumped by inky letters and flashy logos. So, I think this particular piece of paper took off on it's own and did something no other piece of junk mail even conceived of before. It went flying. My full attention was devoted to this flying piece of pulp. I could care less what it was intended to pander, I only saw the paper itself, in it's full glory. My hat's off to you paper. No longer filler in a dump, but an innovator soaring through the air.

What if...

What if we were soul mates? Only we are snails and we are both slinking down our slimy paths when our boneless bodies collide. Of course it would be a rather anticlimactic collision but we could not say fate didn't give us a fair shake. We exchange antennae greetings and cross signals. I just crawled over a neglected pile of canine dung and you just finished gorging on some discarded rotten chicken, both of us just don't represent who we are according to our feelers at the time. So, slowly, ever so slowly, we go our separate ways leaving behind a shiny reminder of of paths crossed yet never truly joined. What if we were people...

What if...

What if life was about being a penny? No matter if you are neglectfully tossed into the take-a-penny/leave-a-penny tray, or stuffed into an overflowing paper cup fated for a burial at the local coinstar, or used to finish off a perfect transaction in which real goods are exchanged for monetary funds elevating your worth from change to money tendered? Maybe you're right, maybe life is how you do it and not what you do with it? Or maybe life is something that is regardless of what, how, why, or when you do it. Maybe there is nothing but life. Maybe we should clear more space for people we think are doing things all wrong. Or maybe we should limit ourselves to whatever it is we find worthwhile. I know one thing for sure and that is: "life is" no matter what you might think about it. Really enjoyed your thoughts. Just thought I'd share a couple of mine...