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Saturday, April 29, 2006Drained
I never realized how much energy the red stuff gave you. Losing a pint definately takes you down a notch... but it's for the right cause and I'd gladly do it again.
Of course next time I do I'll be sure to get a goodnight's sleep. Instead of doing that last night, after yet another day from hell from work, KC and I rolled through the Hills. We only did 3 jobs... but they were doozies. Here's a picture from the head on collision:
Amazingly... no one was critical. Then after that I went home and showered (yes T... 32 minutes... 32 long, hot, and arduous minutes) and changed before going into the city to donate the blood. Then after that... it was off to Madison Square Garden for the Rangers final game of the season when they were dealt another loss by the Devils, 4-2. Of course, the game ended at 5:40 or so... but I didn't get out of there until around 8 o'clock. Everyone always waits to the end to dislocate their shoulders... go figure.
To be honest I wasn't going to blog tonight either... but I did do some reading and felt the need to talk about this. I think I've been reading Monique the longest since I first ventured here into the blogosphere. I've found her open, with great writing, and I tend to think we find ourselves in similar situations. Well... she told HIM about her blog. Now I am filled with two emotions, fear and glee.
Why fear? Well it seems that everytime someone gets exposed in the blogosphere to their real life friends they end up self-destructing. Ontop of that, I've had my own ill advised experiences when I exposed myself to Izzy and told her about my blog. Wow did I ever get it. Of course now she has her own... but initially I took a really nasty hit. Now I know that a few people have found my blog through chance... but for the most part they have been respectful about it and haven't been spamming me or sending me e-mails if I write something really bad about them. Then there are a few people... well who I think I would rather delete this blog than let them see it. Yes... I honestly think I would delete this instead of letting someone see it. Drastic huh? Well this of course brings up some other things I've been thinking about... mainly getting my own domain and (GASP!) moving off blogger. Now these have just been thoughts people... mainly because I want the ability to block a few IPs. I am so digressing it isn't funny. Anyway... that is why I fear for my friend Monique.
Why glee? Well because she has one of my t-shirts (which by the way I am working on other designs and stuff so sit tight) but couldn't wear it because my web address is there... and if you look at my page and go through it... well your finding her. So she can finally where my shirt and promote me in Indiana!
So look... do me the solid... go see her. Lend your support... because there's no telling how this will go.
SPECIAL NOTE TO RYAN: FYI... you don't know me... I don't know you... but as you know I can if I wanted to and vice versa through your father... but here's the truth... cops don't scare me, firemen don't scare me, soldiers don't scare me, and even though I may be outnumbered... I'm never outgunned... so if you break her heart... I'll break your legs. Kabeesh?
So now I am totally drained... and am off to bed... but I can sleep satisfied that something got accomplished. Once I figure that out... I'll let you know.
THIS IS A STICKY POST. FOR NEW POSTS SCROLL DOWN AFTER READING THIS ONE.
Liam Matthew Gorman
This is Liam. Liam suffers from a rare disorder called Transfusion Dependent Transient Erythroblastopenia of Childhood. Yes, it is a real disease despite the atroscious name. The Wiki definition mentions that most patients recover in 1-2 months. This is not Liam's case. The tubing in the picture is giving him a transfusion of A+ blood. If he did not get this transfusion, we would not be looking at the picture of a little boy. It would be a coffin.
How do I know Liam? Well, to be honest I don't. I know Liam's father, Tony "Doc Croc" Gorman. Doc Croc is a NYC Paramedic who I partnered with on the drive down to Texas during Hurricane Rita. To be honest, while I often say I drove through the Hurricane, it was actually Croc at the wheel down I-20 from Louisianna into Texas during the worst of the storm.
Once we were down there he was always working above and beyond, always in the thick of it. Every other night we would drive two hours for an internet connection via wireless broadband (believe it or not there was no Verizon or Nextel service where we were in Sabine County) so I could send the status reports and files to our company back home. Croc was with us for only two weeks down there, because on one of those nights when we had cell service he learned Liam was in the hospital. He flew out two days later at the pre-scheduled tour change, taking someone else's seat on the plane, and that marked the beginning of life with TEC for him and his family.
It is now six months plus since being down there... and Liam has become transfusion dependent to battle the anemia. To help Liam and his family there is going to be a Charity Blood Drive in his name. Here are the details:
Now I know there are a lot of people reading this who would not be able to make it to New York to give blood... but I bet there are quite a few who could. Another thing we have been trying to work is getting local donations credited to Liam's name. The Red Neck West Virginians are organizing their own drive with this exact purpose in mind. I could go on a tirade about helping others and so on, but this is not the post for it. This is the post where I hope to inspire some people to help Liam or someone like him... just as his father has done time and time again. What's right is right.
There are a million reasons why you should give blood. This one is mine. If you could make it yours as well, I would appreciate it.
Friday, April 28, 2006Honoring Thy Tenant and Landlords and The Friday Drama Update
For those of you who are curious. I finished the first crappy draft. It's now off being looked at by a friend of mine. So now that I finally did what the goddesses told me... it's time to continue with life as we know it.
So first things first... please go visit Noi who is currently staying here at APODB. I kind of like how her blog color clashes with my own template... its pretty neat.
This week I have also been able to have a bunch of safe houses to run to instead of landing in the gutter like I normally do. So thanks to Dear Abbyliqua, The Newsbitch Chronicles, Within Reason, Tricia's Musings, Sometimes In My Head, and Bloggin' Bizatch for giving me a warm bed, a bowl of water, and some Snausages as a midnight snack. Do the solid... go visit and tell them how much you appreciate them keeping me in for the night.
Now for what most of you have been waiting for all week. The Friday Drama Update. Okay, so last week we had The Steff hanging out a lot with The Donkey... but going away last weekend to Atlantic City with New Guy B and STILL stuck on Officer Crumb. Well okay... so Saturday afternoon I get a phone call from her. She's in AC, and everything she says is okay. Now keep in mind this is around noon... and this is The Steff ... so now I know she's bullshitting. So she tells me that she misses The Donkey. She says she "REALLY" likes him. I told her to just enjoy her time with New Guy B and that The Donkey will still be here when she gets back.
So Sunday night she calls me. She's on her way to the gym and wanted to know if I wanted to swing by that night. I had DJ over so I told her she could swing by me instead if she wanted... but she didn't. Then Monday she calls me in the afternoon while I'm at work and we talk for about twenty minutes inbetween me sending units on stats and her sending her units (she dispatches for a separate company now) on their take homes and discharges. So she tells me that her and New Guy B had a huge fight Saturday night. So big in fact... they didn't talk on the entire trip back from AC... and she hadn't wanted to mention it because she didn't want to upset me with my time with DJ. So as usual I listen to her pour out her heart and I tell her she needs to do what's right for her... which from the sound of it is to dead New Guy B and be with (aaaggghhhh just the thought makes me want to vomit) The Donkey.
Now Tuesday morning was interesting. I wasn't even awake yet when The Steff calls. She has decided she is going to bring ME coffee. Now this has only happened once before... during Christmas when she brought me coffee and my cherry pie... so there is something going on here. So I shower and by the time I'm done she's there. Sitting in my front yard we drink our coffee and share a cigarette. I asked her a few times what was wrong... and she denied it all. In fact... for the first time in a LONG time... she looked genuinely happy. So she reiterates that she "REALLY" likes Donkey. In fact... she got him a Claddagh Ring.
Now quickly for those of you who don't know, a Claddagh Ring is a piece of celtic jewelry meant to "symbolize" the status of your heart. The design has a heart with a crown atop it, and both are locked in place by a hand on either side. If the heart is facing towards you, your taken. If the heart is pointed outwards, your free and available. Huge step.
So I mention Officer Crumb... and suddenly she's like "Officer who?" Excellent! Now she's happy because of The Donkey, and I'm happy because she's finally (*hopefully*) forsaken Officer Crumb. She agrees that New Guy B has to be deaded... but there are complications because Sir Shortness's boyfriend is New Guy B's best friend. I tell The Steff again... she needs to put herself first and make herself happy. If Sir Shortness has an issue with it... well too fucking bad. Of course I came up with a couple different excuses and people to blame to help her along the road. So then it was time for us to part ways and go to work.
Wednesday night she calls me again. Things seem to be getting complicated with trying to dead New Guy B. There just wasn't something right. So she says, "He's a really nice guy." Oh great... now she get's a fucking conscience. Newsflash! Nice guys finish last. Dead him, don't leave him thinking there's something where there isn't, and move on. I also happen to see The Donkey Wednesday night at a meeting. So we talk briefly... and he asks me the all important question of "How am I doing?" So I actually acknowledge to him that she was the happiest I've ever seen her in a long time. This is important for the simple fact that my motto is, "If she's happy... I'm happy. When she's not happy... I'm not happy and I'll break your legs." Nice guy aren't I (and I ALWAYS finish last)? So The Donkey understands this and life is good... until he asks me if, "Is she going to play me?" Oh shit. He thinks somethings up. I got a bit stuck there... but eventually answered him that no, she wouldn't do that... if they were officially going out. I need not mention that they are only seeing each other... nor should I bring up New Guy B who now really really really needs to be deaded.
So tonight... The Steff calls me. She needs to talk. She needs to talk badly. So I swing by her job and the first thing I notice is that she is now also wearing a Claddagh Ring. Yes... The Donkey... being Irish of course... gave her one too. How is her's turned? Heart in. Okay... so now they're going out. Her problem... New Guy B. Now Sir Shortness is causing issues... because New Guy B is all over her boyfriend. I tell The Steff in no uncertain terms... dead him. I remind her that if the need arises... because now I'm sensing a guy who is emotionally unstable... X and I will take a ride with Uncle Louisville and set the record straight.
So after our conversation tonight... and her praising the flowers I sent to her mom today for her birthday as compared to The Donkey's measly bouquet... I get the feeling she understands the urgency. I even had to point out to her that the way she is wearing the ring... means it even if it wasn't said. I have no doubt something will happen tomorrow... it seems everyday this week there was something with her... and I'm sure it is destined to continue.
As for The Nick. Well aside from the musclehead freak coming home from San Francisco and her going to Canada within the next 3 hours... nothing really has been said. She's swallowing it all in true The Nick fashion. I want to bring it up to her... and ask her what's going on... but to be honest I am relatively afraid of pushing her over the edge. We talk on IM almost every day... and she should know if she wants to talk about it I'm here... but somewhere inside I have that doubt.
Wednesday, April 26, 2006Divine Intervention and Making It Happen
Ok... so its no big secret that I have my favorite bitches... but now I also have my favorite goddesses too. That's right... Consult A Goddess has opened for business... and I have been their first mortal advised. I think I should get an award. Anyway, if you want to know all about my divine intervention then read it right here... and if you have a question or a problem I highly suggest utilizing their services... they are goddesses after all.
So all three goddesses gave me some good advice for my "friend". Ok... so my "friend" is really me. Yes... my writer's block is well documented here... as are the many bricks in the wall. So E (I am so NOT using their full names here... call me lazy... but if I can't pronounce it I ain't typing it!) says I need to find my heart (she also mentioned that she found me brilliant... which is making me wonder if this goddess is smoking the wacky tobacky... but I digress... but it was a very sweet thing to say and made me feel all warm and gooey inside like a Toll House Cookie). A tells me I need to find my heart but I also need to put in some blood, sweat and tears. T knows exactly what I mean... apparently goddesses run into walls too... and she agrees that I just need to buckle down, be like Nike, and do it.
So with that I am off to do this. I will follow my own edict to my Techs, Medics, Dispatchers, and Finance people when I slam my fist down on the conference table and yell my motto of, "Make it happen!" or its southern version "Git 'R Done!"
I do not know how long it will take... and there are alot of things I want to blog about like the new series on TNT that is ripped off from my life, my take on the gas prices, and all the other blogosphere craziness going on... but you won't here from me until I am done or the deadline has passed. However... I would like to leave you with this that my friend KC sent to me to cheer me up... because whether you have noticed or not I have had the week from hell.
So I will now light one of my newly arrived vanilla candles from my most beloved candle maker... and I'm going to do this. Have a nice day.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006New Renter and Caring About My Blogging Harem
So Matt from Meltwater. Torrents. Meanderings. Delta. has left APODB with working plumbing after Shelly's grilling fiesta that caused me to break the sewage line with one helluva... well... anyway... as payment to Matt for his hard work, and at his request, I had written a "Guest Blogger" post for him while he was away on his trip. I don't think he got it up as of this posting, or if he ever will, but either way go visit because my favorite bitches mangled him pretty good... and I think he's still smarting from the beating that happened afterwards. So thanks for fixing the plumbing Matt and installing the new jacuzzi. Oh and if you want to take on the bitches... I got your back... waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyy back.
With Matt now gone I had some room over here at APODB. So I put the place out to bid, once again for the higher price of 50 BE credits... still working on that little side project which I know you will all find interesting once I'm done... and low and behold I had 3 bidders.
So this week I am happy to annoice that Noi from Voicing My Thoughts will be staying here at APODB. Now I have to be honest... I've seen Noi around the BE circles. I will also admit that I normally vote against in her BOTB because while my favorite bitches have something against the BTOD (Black Template Of Doom or Death or something), I have this thing about PTOD (Pink Template Of Daintiness). Honestly it normally numbs my mind.
However Noi thought high enough to apply for temp housing... so who am I to pre-judge worthiness by PTOD alone. So I read the front page of her blog. Then I started going into the archives. Further back... and back... and its like DAMN! Look what I've been missing! One really great thing now is her blog alternates between Pink and Purple every other post, so it isn't as numbing... but after reading the Purple posts you become mesmerized ny her writing and you end up reading the Pink too. She is very insightful and isn't afraid to say it ALL... which is something I can appreciate. So do the right thing... do the clicky... go visit Noi and remember not to judge a blog by its template... unless of course your the bitches... then you can whatever the hell you want.
So everyone knows that Doc Croc cares about my health and provided some aerobic exercise for me which I shared with all of you. Well apparently Gidget and Dawn feel robbed. They don't think I care about them because... well let's face it... unless your a man, lesbian, or bi-sexual oogling those two won't do a damn thing for ya. This actually made me wonder just how many people who cruise through here are straight women versus everyone else. For some odd reason... I think I get alot of views from women. I think it's the red hat. It draws you all in like flies to the blue light... only its red. Then again, it could just be that your attracted to the drama... and everyone knows I'm the King of that (and believe me, Friday will be a doozy... phew... sneak peek... The Steff woke ME up with coffee this morning...).
So I need to take care of my Blogging Harem... all you females out there who crave the red hat... and because Gidget and Dawn asked for it and they're both hot and when your hot I give you what you want... here is your something to oogle and get in shape with:
Remember... it's for your health that I do this for you... because I care a lot... and you all love the red hat... admit it... it's true... its okay... really...
Monday, April 24, 2006Getting The Blood Pumping With Puppies
I received this article in an e-mail from Doc Croc:
Now Doc Croc looks out for me. My health and well being is very important to him... because not only am I good a friend... but I'll be at this blood drive he has going for Liam. So to make sure my blood is pumping well he also sent me this:
I care about you my readers too which is why I am sharing this with you. You can also find other things to oogle here and you can find some awesome puppies here too. Don't ever say I only mislead you and don't take care of you guys!
Sunday, April 23, 2006Why Political Bloggers Piss Me Off
Guess which one I’m choosing on this post fucker? Now find out why my bite is worse than my bark!!!
I found this post by Howling @ The Moon while voting on BOTB. The post is in regards to the Ben & Jerry flavor I mentioned here. So this guy goes on this history lesson of where the Black & Tan name came from... in brief they were a goon squad for the Brits in the early 1920's. They were brutal and committed atrocities. Name me a goon squad that hasn't.
So this guy goes on to talk how Ben & Jerry are a bunch of idiots because they promoted the ice cream as a "celebration of Irishness" and there was nothing worse you could do. Right.
Ben & Jerry in fact promoted it as an ice cream for "beer aficiandos". Read their press release back on March 2, 2006 and someone tell me where it promotes Irish people. Now here's the part that pisses me off.
So Mr. Howling says that Ben & Jerry had to apologise to the Irish people and had to pull the product from the stores. So I fell for his line of crap and panicked. So I ran to my freezer... but it was still there. My pint from the Super Stop & Shop. Ha! They hadn't gotten to mine. So I called my ex-wife's best friends husband who happens to work for Super Stop & Shop and I asked him about the whole recall thing.
He laughed his ass off. He told me to look at the B&J website and see if they had indeed issue an apology, because he certainly hadn't heard of it. Sure enough... no apology there. So I decided to do one more thing... I called John Reilly over at the Irish Cottage on Austin Street. Guess what, he's Irish. I asked him if calling the ice cream a Black & Tan and calling it a "celebration of Irishness" was offensive.
This is his exact quote: "Bloody hell no! We drink Black & Tan's all the time here in the bar(referring to the miz of Guiness Stout and Bass Ale)! If it was offensive we'd be selling half the beer we do now!" Wow... big surprise there... from an Irishman.
So Mr. Howling... you are a moron and one of the reasons I hate political bloggers. Keep your political commentary accurate at the very least. I have no problem with you being politically incorrect... kind of like when I tell you that the Micks with their panties in a supposed uproar are going to get beat down by the Krauts who they owe DRINKING BEER AT ALL to because of their ambient stupidity and thanks to your fragging moronic post. Good job... you just started Beer War III.
Saturday, April 22, 2006Dead Blogs
There was an interesting post over at T's this week about obituaries. The puppies were not mentioned so you perverts need to start drooling. In a nutshell she was saying how they print these pictures in the obits and the people look OLD (I know you sarcastic bastards... maybe that's why they're now DEAD). Of course she doesn't want a picture... and her husband has a full page ad reserved. So she asks the question if anyone has any Obit plans or arrangements made when they die.
Of course... I commented with :
My obituary has already been written. It gets updated every six months... along with my resume'. There is a picture where I have my trademark goofy grin, my thumbs up, and a can of Coke wearing my uniform on the scene of a horrific fire I did back in 2000. Proof that no matter how horrible life was... I always let the good times roll. This update occurs on January 3 and July 3 of every year.
T then says:
NYC--Um, you're certainly prepared, aren't you? Sounds like you think about death A LOT.
So that once again woke the little hamster in my head who had just done a marathon over some sort of garbage regarding drug calculations... forced him onto his wheel... and thus the churning began.
The truth is, I don't think about death a lot. At least, not me dying. Other people on the other hand... well yeah. I see dead people all the time. In fact for awhile there, I thought I was spending more time with them than the live ones... and they sure can be nicer than the live ones. They're not noisy, listen to every word you say, and will never offer you bad advice. There are some downsides like the smell, the lack of interaction, and the fact they are heavy as shit... hence the term "dead weight" for all of you with dead hamsters in your heads.
Dead people have their pros and cons. So the hamster kicks into overdrive and I had an epiphany. With the hamster wheel smoking I realize that blogs and bloggers are a lot like dead people. Most blogs aren't noisy (except those with the damn auto-play music), a blogger will read everything you have to say (or so we might like to believe), they don't smell, there are quite a few degrees of interaction, and they're pretty light for the most part. As for never offering bad advice... well I think to a degree all advice can be bad... even the advice I offer... because ultimately it is just that, advice which is really just an opinion in disguise.
One other relatively nice feature... or maybe not so nice depending on how you want to look at it... blogs don't die. Sure there can be a file corruption or a loss of database, but if I died today this blog will live on and my words would be more of a testament to my existence than any keg party I throw in the funeral home for myself.
But how would my loyal reader's like Monique and Luin or my lurkers like Jessica know that I'm not here anymore? Well that's why I have a Life Status bar on the side. I used to have a button like this:
But I decided it was a bit too big and bulky for the new design. This way when I do go, after 90 days or so it will turn red and everyone can delete me from their blogrolls because I'll be really boring after that. I do look forward to appearning on MyDeathSpace though... and hearing how much people don't miss me and am glad I'm gone with blinkies and sparklies and all the other crackhead graphics they come up with these days.
So just as the Hamster was about to give out I came to the conclusion that the reason I am so prepared is because I don't think about death alot. If anything I'm looking at things more like Tony Soprano is... "Every day is a gift."
Granted there are plenty days I want to take and return... but there are also some I wouldn't trade for all the Snausages in the world.
Ding-dong. The hamster is dead.
Friday, April 21, 2006Honoring Thy Tenant and Landlords and The Friday Drama Update
Hi. It's 3:00am here... and I am surfing at the speed of cable. That's right, the A.P.O.D.B. now has cable internet at the Dog House which means less sleep for me and more crap for you to read. With this connection I now have the world famous Firefox browser. Once I figure out all the hype... I'll let you know.
Anyway, this being Friday, I want to remind all of you to visit my current Dog House Homey Matt. I noticed he isn't feeling the love like my favorite fluffer... but there is more to life than fluffing people. For instance there is American Idol. Okay... you know what... I take that back. Fluffing and the ladies and useless man who do it are everything. But Matt did fix the plumbing... so give him a clickety click for that would ya?
I also want to take this opportunity to thank Tabz from Stupid People Shouldn't Breed and Psychobabble for giving me a place to stay this week. They've been really nice... even if I am a "typical guy"... well now ya don't say? Just be glad I'm not humping your leg... yet.
Okay... now the part I know your all anxiously waiting for... the Friday Drama Update. First I need to apologize for not providing a COMPLETE update last week. The whole The Steff and Donkey thing had me in all sorts of mental breakdowns. So to prevent the same thing from happening again... they're going last this week.
So The Nick has a boyfriend. *GASP*. I know... Miss Relationship Phobia (I'm sure there is an actual term for this but I forgot to ask Luin today what it was on IM) has a man. That's right... and here's a HUGE surprise... he's a muscle head who is 6'1".
See that's one of The Nick's things... she's tall. I think she actually has a complex over it even though her yams are killers. Her puppies are really nice too... but I have to be honest... T's are better. Yet again I digress... so for some reason she feels the need to date GIANTS who by the way also happen to be muscleheads.
She swears that he is a nice guy, which considering how big he is and I have to admit he could very well probably rip my head off (and in case you missed my picture on 4.20, I'm no small guy), and he's an "artist". He designs a clothing line for bikers. Right... now I would normally offer to bring my cousin down and have him examine the prospect with his Gaydar... but let's face it... his sucks.
So it turns out Musclehead has gone to San Francisco. The Nick, in keeping her Lenten promise to Joshua, has yet to have sexual satisfaction. However... and here's the part I almost lost my doggy biscuits... he sucked her toes. I won't go into a feet tirade... but I mean really... not for me... yet it seemed to please her a great deal.
Now of course she is concerned though because while he has been away for the last 10 days he has called her all of twice. This has her concerned regarding his "faithfulness" and whether or not this will work. Now keep in mind... next weekend she's going to Canada. So he gets back... she leaves. Seems to me the phobia is directing her travel plans. I'm beginning to think she might actually have this phobia instead of using it as an excuse not to have a steady boyfriend.
Okay... so that's The Nick. Ooompa Loompas are holding their own. Ooompa Loompa 1 is still with her boyfriend even though I had him knocked uncoscious and sent her pictures of him being molested by a hairy man named Al. Ooompa Loompa 2 is trudging along... and aside from continuing the side fling with The Pretty One... has maintained her grace with the Lord Your Dog.
So now we come of course to The Steff and The Donkey. Okay... well... let's do it this way. The status of New Guy A- thrown out at third. The status of New Guy B- hanging on by a thread at second. The status of The Donkey- he appears at the moment to be safe at first. New Guy B is taking The Steff away this weekend. He refused to tell her where... which I am having a fit over. In fact, don't doubt if you don't hear from me until next week because I may get locked up for pinning him under my truck until he tells me where he is taking her. She's going only because she feels bad because they had made these plans before she met Donkey.
On Tueday I discovered that she had taken down my absolute favorite picture of her and replaced it with one of him and her. Needless to say I lost my mind. In fact, I called her at work and practically ripped her head off. Childish? Absolutely. When I was done a minute later HE called to tell me to calm down. I told him I'd break his legs... and he knew I meant it. I can deal with the jabs and the jokes... but the fact that she did that was just downright disrespectful.
So last night I'm working MSG... hanging with the artsy types as they smoke their spliffs at The Jammies... and she calls me. She apologizes about the picture, claims she wasn't thinking, and promises it'll go back up. Of course I have calmed down by now, forgive her as I always do, and then get ready to listen because she needs to talk.
She's a little torn up because she's going with New Guy B, and she wants to dead him nicely because he's a really nice guy and she doesn't want to hurt him. At the same time she doesn't want to hurt The Donkey... because in her heart she still isn't fully over Officer Crumb.
Right. She still isn't over Officer Crumb. At this point I let out a bloodletting curtling scream on West 33rd Street and 8th Avenue. I could hear she was really torn up about it and tried to be supportive. I told her that what mattered was her, her happiness, and no one else should take precedent. Basically I told her to be a cold-hearted bitch... which is something she is never good at (unless of course its to me). So we ended the conversation with the potential for an early morning breakfast in... oh... two hours so we could talk it out and do the pro and con list.
Now remember where I let out the scream? That's in front of Penn Station. Well guess who works there? Right... Donkey. He keys me up literally 15 seconds after I got off the phone with her... so I go visit him in the Command Center where he was processing an EDP. He seemed a bit sad... because he wouldn't be seeing her this weekend. Of course as luck would have it he asked me who she was going with... I named the first two friends that came off the top of my head... and of course he rasied his eyebrows. Now I know Donkey. I know that look. He wanted to crash what he thought was a "girl's weekend". How do I know for certain? Well shit, if I were him, I would think about the same thing. So I quickly re-directed him. Maintained my advice of keeping it slow and steady and not pushing.
So what to do now? She's still suffering from a broken heart. Unfortunately I can relate... but I also know that with time... the wounds will heal. How do I tell her that?
So that is the drama update. If there is any doubt in anyone's mind that I am the King of All Drama... let them be erased now. Oh and for all of you who thought up above when I was referring to T's puppies... you sick perverts... will you never learn? That was a link to Lily her Pug!!! Gotcha again...
Thursday, April 20, 2006Happy 4.20 Zooted and Polluted
So I figured in honor of such an auspices occasion, I will dedicate this day and post to the beloved Zooted and Polluted. Hi. It's me. Your sister's buddy. And yes... I'm about to fuck up another one of your highs. Just as a brief sidenote... Zooted refers to the "euphoric" stage of consumption (keep reading if your wondering), and Polluted refers to the 8 weeks afterwards it stays in your system.
So let's talk about Cannabis, also known as marijuana, grass, weed, ganja, Mary J, and more popularly known as pot. In fact, we will henceforth refer to it as pot because I am old and that's what I called it when I smoked it. Yes people... I have smoked AND inhaled pot to my knowledge. Now if that makes me evil, then so be it... otherwise give me a cigar and an intern and I'm ready to go!
Alas, I digress... where was I? Oh yes... so let us speak briefly of the plant. This is a plant that is green and leafy. For some non-specific examples go to the place around the corner from your house called THE PARK. Now pot can be grown a variety of different ways which will affect the product you therefore are going to be inhaling. There is indoor growing like in a greenhouse, outdoor growing on something like a plantation, hydroponics growing which is usually in a fish tank, and now I have also heard of aeroponics growing where the roots just hang in the air for all to see in a mist of water and nutrients... kind of like you know who's breasts in that picture on MySpace where you guys are lighting a bong... which btw is SO DUMB! Anyone can see that... including the cops (which in case you were too zooted to notice is ALL your sister brings home). I'm telling your mom.
Again I have digressed. So now that we have a brief description of the plant and a little graphical example to go by... let's talk about what we do with the pot. Well... basically we burn it. We pay some damn good money to some perpetrator out there (who will probably use the money to buy more drugs to sell which is therefore funding goddamn Al Quaeda... but hey... what's between friends right?) so we can light it up. Now... I don't want you to think this is all we do... throwing money away... because the intelligent ones like myself will inhale the smoke.
Why inhale said smoke? Well because the smoke from the pot has properties that causes us to feel "euphoric" for quite some time. After awhile however, this "euphoric" feeling converts into a craving commonly referred to as the "munchies". Is the euphoria worth the damage to your lungs (which are dying), your brain (which your killing), and your metabolism (which is slowing down) that you are causing? Is anything "euphoric" ever worth that much?
So now little Zooted and Polluted allow me to let you in on a secret... and consider this the only way I can think of getting through your head that smoking so much pot daily will only lead to misery and heartbreak... and you mooching off your parents until they are dead and buried... because you see I smoked so much pot when I was younger... more than even you now... that I have ended up with an eternal case of the "munchies"... luckily I realized what I was doing and stopped smoking... so my brains are intact... my lungs just suffer from nicotine... but I still have those munchies... see...
Love you guys!
On yet another quick sidenote... today apparently is also Bitter Bitch's Birthday. She turns 30 today. So go over to IT2M and wish her a Happy Birthday... and to stop being so damn bitter over the whole thing... and I'll hook her up so she can go hang with Zooted and Polluted and smoke a blunt!
Today, amongst other things, is Bitter Bitch's Birthday. She turns the big 3-0 today. Ah... I remember when I was so young... it was... oh... a year ago... but I digress yet again. Bitter has always been one of the nicest bitches over there. Oh hell, I like all three if the bitcheteers... they make me laugh my ass off when I usually most need it. So I wish her a peaceful day without black background blogs and white letters, auto-play music, and red links on blue backgrounds.
So what I want you all to do is go over to IT2M and wish her a HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!
EDIT: Am I a fucking retard or what? Yes I am. It also happens to be Miss Ann Thrope's birthday. So go visit her... and you can tell her how much of a fucking retard I really am... not that she cares.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006Tram Rescue
Last night the Roosevelt Island Tram broke down. Roosevelt Island sits between Queens and Manhattan in the East River. The tram was stuck over 250 feet in the air with 60+ people trapped between the two cars:
Rescue efforts started at around 22:00 and did not complete until the early hours around 5:00 this morning. The evacuation of the tram cars was accomplished using an open air rescue gondola on the same cables as the stuck tram cars. The rescue gondola was operated by officers of the NYPD Emergency Services Unit:
This was really quite an accomplishment... and just more evidence of the things possible when first responders arrive to "Make It Happen". Hoorah ESU!!!
Do you believe in signs? I'm not really a superstitous person... but I do see some things out there that make me think. So tonight, I have seen a sign in this post over at Shelly's. Why is this a sign? Well because a little while ago there was this post over at T's. Now I commented on them both... but very briefly when in truth I have a whole lot more to say.
So perhaps it is the bottle of wine I decided to consume tonight when I got home that is making me see things that are not connected but rather coincidental. I don't necessarily prescribe to the fact that there is a reason for everything... but at the same time some things are hard to ignore. So for that reason I will forewarn you that what follows is both deeply personal and disturbing. It is not in the same light hearted manner I would normally post... so if your not feeling it... then move on little blog reader, visit my renter, and come back another day. Otherwise... buckle up... because this will get bumpy... as I pluck and claw at my biggest and dirtiest bone in the pile.
My ex-wife Pudding and I met in 1998. We began seeing each other officially once her divorce was complete in 1999. She had four children from her previous marriage... part of the group I often call my Wolves. In 2000 she became pregnant with who would turn out to be our son DJ, making it a five member pack... or as I would say my own personal basketball team. There was talk of marriage from her... something I generally killed... because as much as I loved and cared for her... she had... tendencies...
So through a few therapy sessions and some diagnosing it has been discovered that I suffer from PTSD ever since September 11, 2001. One of the prime example the therapist used to point out this illness I was, and to a large degree still am in denial about, was the fact that Pudding and I got married on November 3, 2001. I agreed to marry her after watching the movie Navy Seals... where the big fat chick cries to the lieutenant and asks him if she and her man who was now dead had been married would she have gotten the flag... and he says yes. Pudding wanted the flag.
One of the first things we did after getting married was buy a house in Northeastern Pennsylvannia. It was two and a half hours away... but it was a four bedroom colonial. Plenty of room for 7 people, three cats, and the fish. It also beat the hell out of the two one bedroom apartments we both maintained. Why Northeast PA? Well the price was right and as I explained to one mortgage agent, "I doubt Al Quaeda has ever heard of Scranton."
So my work schedule was good for this sort of living. I would be home Tuesday night through Thursday night... and every other week she was in New York from Friday night to Sunday night so her ex-husband could see his kids. So it was only twice a month where she had a stretch of four nights when she was alone. We moved in February of 2002, and thus our lives began and things went really well with only a few bumps. It wasn't meant to be forever... just a year or maybe two until I could get reciprocity in PA and earn the same amount of money as I was in New York. I had intended on working NYC part time anyway to keep my shield.
Then in August of 2002 I was offered a huge promotion. There was alot of pressure from work to take it. Our ranks had been thinned post 9/11 by people who had gotten a jumpstart on getting out like I was planning. We sat down and talked it out... and in the end we decided I would do it but maintain my plan to be out in a year or so. It was a money increase which helped a bit... but now I was working five days a week. So I took the promotion.
Well shit went downhill around New Year's 2004. Why? Because I was once again given a huge promotion in New Year's of 2003... but now I got tied into a contract and a non-compete and other things that I hadn't had to deal with before... but this had always been my dream... to do what I was going to do. At that point we had a conversation... about her... tendencies. Pudding was by far the absolute best sexual partner I ever had... and she agreed that I too was very good at pleasing her... but she also liked to be on occasion with women. So the conversation we had lasted an entire weekend... with the agreement... that we would have an "open" marriage... and she could have a girlfriend... provided she always came home to our bed and kept them separated from the rest of our lives... and I could take the promotion. Most guys would love to have their wives with other women... but I have always been a one woman type of guy and I want my woman to be with me. I told her this... she called me selfish... and that was how we came to the terms of the "agreement". She agreed readily... I was reluctant... but with all the women I have always loved... I just wanted her to be happy.
It took eight months. At the end of August 2004 she came home with her "girlfriend" and announced to me that they were in love... and she was moving back to Brooklyn as a full fledged lesbian. A now proud member of the "gay community". I really shouldn't have been surprised. In fact I really wasn't. Our passion had seemed to come to a crashing halt after she had spent a weekend in New York in July when her goddaughter was discovered to have inter-cranial bleeding. She had become a lump in bed... and in fact for the two weeks prior to her announcement we hadn't slept together.
She moved out a few weeks later... back into the one-bedroom in Brooklyn for a few months before getting into an apartment with three bedrooms in time for Christmas. Our divorce was finalized in August of 2005... with the house still unsold due to some repairs I need to make before I can put it on the market. Her girlfriend moved in this past February... and yes... I helped with all three moves. Do I hate her? No. Do I hate the damage it has done to my family, my son, and all those around her? Absolutely. Yet I feel powerless over anything else. The fact that she also slept with her ex-husband in the spring of 2004 and some other guy earlier in the year doesn't help... but at least they were guys. I lost my wife to a girl. I asked myself, "What kinf of a man are you?"
So I went through a severe bout of depression. I mean SEVERE as in standing on the VZ Bridge and thinking about going over severe. To be honest... I don't know how I might have made it through if I hadn't had friends like The Steff, my partner Freakzilla, X, and everyone else who would turn around and remind me why I was still here (even Dartanion was there for me... that's how bad off I was). My depression did affect my job performance... and I was demoted although the harnesses from that position, namely the contract and non-compete, remain in effect.
So... now the dirty nasty truth is out. Dart had made mention of it in one of his posts previously... but I don't think anyone paid it any attention. To be honest... I wouldn't have made mention of it... had it not been for those two posts that were so close together. So allow me to express my opinion on the matters that have sparked this revelation.
Open marriages are horrible. They betray everything sacred or what is supposed to be sacred about the "sacrament". They open up cans of worms and can lead to nothing but misery. I so very much wish that I would be able to go back to that moment... quit my job... and tell her no... that I would be with her and I love her. Instead I chose my career over her. I was wrong in doing that... I left her alone and in need... and now in the end I am the one alone. To a large degree I got what I deserved. Agreeing to an open marriage helped deliver that.
As for bi-sexuality being a pitstop to "gay land"... unfortunately I have to agree with that to. I would like to believe that someone who is bi-sexual at some point and time can decide on one sexuality or the other... and that it doesn't always need to be the "gay land" one... but my personal experience shows me that bi-sexuals are just lying to themselves and others when they say that. They are truly in the closet coward homosexuals doing what is socially "in" and wrecking lives of others along the way. Calling yourself a bi-sexual is cowardly and selfish and I see no reason for any of it.
Someone had sent me an e-mail back when I criticized Brokeback Mountain calling me a gay basher because of what I said about the film. I don't hate gay people. In fact, I work with a bunch of them... one of whom upon finding out my wife left me decided SHE wanted to be the next Mr. Pudding (yes... that did piss me off greatly... but I behaved). The other gay people at work were very supportive... in fact my Dyke squad offered to take the girlfriend into a dark alley so I wouldn't have the issue of "hitting a girl"... God I love those bitches (and those ladies and gentleman are REAL bitches). My cousin is also gay.
What I hate is bi-sexuals who ruin loves because they can't be honest with themselves. Would you expect a lesbian to have given birth to 5 kids? No... I didn't think so. In fact, I asked my cousin when I saw him while all this was transpiring, "Tell me, at my wedding, was your fucking Gaydar not working or something?" He told me, "Your not the only one she fooled. It's people like her that give us a bad name." See that you bi-sexuals... the gays hate you too.
Pretty deep huh? So now you all know I suck as a man because my wife left me for another woman. That's okay though. Surprisingly I actually feel a little bit better. Of course... when the comments start rolling in I'll probably find a roof or something (joke people... I really only do bridges and someone took my EZ-Pass) to jump off of.
In the end... I told Pudding that only two things matter to me... 1) That my son is taken care of lovingly and 2) That she is happy. I promised her... if number one didn't happen... then number two WILL NEVER HAPPEN. So be it. Thanks for listening. Next time... we'll be back to the light hearted programming your all used to. Afterall... tomorrow is 4.20.06...
Tuesday, April 18, 2006Powerful Post
I found this very powerful post over at Miss Ann Thrope's. Check it out.
So I have a new tenant here at A.P.O.D.B. Please welcome with open paws Matt from Meltwater. Torrents. Meanderings. Delta. It was a really hard decision this week. I actually did raise the price of rent slightly to offset some recent credit expenditures I have had on BE lately due to doing some investigative research... the results of which you are all bound to see sometime soon.
So I chose Matt for a few reasons. First of all, he finds some of the more interesting photos on the 'net. His writing can be both humorous and serious, but is always well developed and interesting. Now although he committed the mortal sin of calling EMT's Ambulance Driver's, well he was quick to correct it and repent to the Lord Your Dog when it was pointed out to him. I know for a fact alot of people have kind of shrugged him off because his blog appears to be about rafting, and they themselves are not into rafting, but like most all other blogs he diversifies. He was also nice enough to give me a roof for a week when I first came back until I got my paws on the floor... so for that alone I owe him a debt of gratitude. Oh, and his template was designed by one of my favorite people, so I know he has good taste in Blog Design.
So go see Matt over @ M.T.M.D. and tell him Dog from A.P.O.D.B. sent you. See that... we both use initials as short hand for our blogs... I feel like a fraggin' MySpace Q.T. now.
Also here's a shout to the other bidders... thanks for bidding at the inflated price:
Gidget Bones Diary (who by the way has a new place to hang her hat)
Voicing My Thoughts
E-Mails From Jesus
Also I want to apologize to Shelly, my little fluffer, for not saying goodbye... the ribs she made me gave me a serious case of the "itis" so I slept right through her leaving. I'm such a bad doggy.
Monday, April 17, 2006I Got Tagged!!!
So Monique decided to tag me about weird things about me. Wow. This is a hard one considering I am EXTREMELY weird... as if you all didn't figure that out already. So here it goes but first the rules:
The Rules: Write weird facts/things etc. about yourself in my comment box and on your site and then tag six people. Then leave a comment on their site that says they're tagged and to read your site.
The people I am tagging in return: Luin, Hamburger, Rebecca, T, Sherrie, and Mollie.
6 Weird Things About Me:
1) I frequently go to Dunkin Donuts in the morning on my way to work. I always order a large French Vanilla ice coffee light with cream and four splenda. Not so weird right? Until I tell you I order that same thing 365 days a year no matter how cold it is outside. I do not drink hot coffee.
2) Before discovering the joys of ice coffee I would wake up and drink a Coca-Cola Classic. Coke is my defacto soda of choice. In fact, I would not go into a Burger King for years because all they served was Pepsi. In my old age I have lightened up a bit and now there are only three other sodas I drink, Jolt Cola, Mr. Pibbs (ONLY Mr. Pibbs or Pibbs Xtra not Dr. Pepper), and Mountain Dew Code Red. Go figure.
3) I have a journal fetish. I am constantly finding and buying new blank journals which end up never being used. I always buy them with the clear intention of using them... just never get around to it. My favorite journal is one I got from Australia and paid over one hundred dollars for. Why? Because it is as close to an exact replica I could get from Ryan Phillipe's journal in Cruel Intentions. Nothing like the soft feel of paper from down under...
4) I began working when I was 12 years old at my local R.C. Church. I worked there for ten years, quitting at the ripe old age of 22, and have only gone back on two occasions. I would easily spend 12 hours a weekend there and every now and then a day during the week too. I worked in both the office of the Rectory as well as in the Sacristy of the Church which I was very capable of doing because I was an altar boy since I was 10 years old (I stopped doing that when I became a Eucharistic Minister at 21). By my calculations I went to 3 masses a weekend for 10 years so because I stopped going at 22, I technically should not have to go to mass again until I'm 42. So I still have 11 years to go before I will be damned to hell for not going to church ontop of everything else I've done. I look forward to that day and will probably have a party. Wanna come?
5) Red and black are my favorite colors. Big surprise there right? Well... here's where it gets weird. I love the smell of vanilla. So when I order candles I get red and black scented with vanilla. I really didn't think it was weird 'til someone mentioned their husband thought I was a goth. My mentality is probably very gothlike but I'm not into the whole make-up thing.
6) The final weird thing about me, well that I would consider weird, is that I can't go to sleep in silence. After so many years sleeping with background noise if there is nothing on in the background I can't sleep. Usually I'll leave the television on now... but it has to be the History Channel or the Travel Channel. I want to become as educated as I can while I sleep.
So that's my six weird things about me. In hindsight... maybe I'm not that weird after all. Then again... how weird are you?
Sunday, April 16, 2006Happy Easter!
Just wanted to say Happy Easter... because the link behind the bunny took up quite a bit of time today... more new stuff later...
Friday, April 14, 2006Black Hearts Incorporated
I realized after this post that I had gotten pretty dark and depressing. Well that is definately a side of me that's there... and at times here too. I did decide, perhaps silently, that I would not make this a drama filled place or a dark depressing brooding place anymore either. Call it a quest for blog happiness or what have you... but I just wanted a lighter feel to the whole thing/place.
However... let's be honest... I have a dark side. Not only do I have a dark side... but so do a bunch of other people I generally roamed around with through the streets of NYC taking pictures, writing words, and depicting life as we saw it (the best social description would be a Goth... but we didn't wear make-up). Life can harden you... and at times turn you heart black and cold. That's where Black Hearts Inc. originated from.
Now the original Black Hearts Inc. was extremely loosely organized. We had some t-shirt designs, and some chapbooks published, and a bunch of other things in the early and mid-90's. We operated quite literally out of a drawer from our college newspaper. Notoriety wasn't really prevalent... but every now and then I see one of our shirts being worn (once by a homeless guy) or come across something by one of the guys or gals who were a member... and I do get nostalgic. Perhaps I miss the time when life was simpler... sleep, eat, smoke, write, eat, sleep. Yet... it was also probably the darkest time for me personally because I did not feel that I was affecting the world at all.
We all used to have something that was unique to whatever we did. Usually it would appear on the inside cover of a chapbook, or the back of a photo or poem. It sort of became our personal signature to the work. I had a sort of soliloquey that said:
I am the Watchdog. He who stands alone. In my eyes you can see the pain of the masses. In my heart you can see the wretch I am.
When I decided to become an EMT I added this to it:
To overcome what you fear most you must become one with it. They also call me Death. So be it.
So I have to a degree resurrected Black Hearts Inc. here on this blog. Up there on the left side top of the sidebar is the Black Hearts Inc. box. You'll see a picture there or a graphic... and undoubtedly it will link somewhere. Perhaps it will link to a post in a blog whether it be this one or anothers. Perhaps it will link to a MySpace profile, or a website, or an article, or a band's website. No one can ever really be sure where it will lead you except of course for me. I figure I'll change it every two weeks or so... so be sure to check it out when it changes.
What Black Hearts Inc. does is really simple. It is a catalyst for thought, a source of pleasure, an outlet for pain, and proof that even the darkest, coldest and blackest hearts still pump a version of life throught this body we call the world.
So be it.
This beeing "Good Friday", I wanted to see just how "good" I am. So I took this quiz I stole from Monique:
The Seven Deadly Sins Quiz on 4degreez.com
Wow. I'm screwed. Hi dad! Going to hell now!!!
So as you all know by now I rented some space out to Shelly. Now I honestly did this with an alterior motive even she doesn't know about. See... Shelly just got a grill and she really wants to use it. Anyone see where this is going??? Right... this means she's going to have lots of left over bones for me to pluck the meat off of and suck out the marrow. I could suggest some recipes that are really really easy for grilling like roasted Pug, or baked Pug, or Pug on a stick. The question is where can we possibly find a Pug?
So in addition to renting out to Shelly, I have also been able to rent out some space with some other very interesting people. So a big thanks to FutileSoul, ~Unsettled~ (God I love redheads), The Plumbutt Chronicles (who kept me up ALL night talking by the way), The Daily Dildo, and Banned Breed for keeping me in from the cold and well fed while Shelly figures out the new grill (try pressing the button that says START... and I like my Pug medium well).
Drama. Isn't that what your all here for anyway? Well... the drama does continue. So like I mentioned I did fix The Steff's bed. Of course... she rolled over the wrong way and it broke at 3:00 in the morning right before her parents came home. Luckily, they were understanding... or maybe I should say they were understanding that I did my best to fix it.
So as I also mentioned previously I worked the Buckcherry show with The Nick on Tuesday. The show, btw because someone asked, was pretty good. I only saw about forty minutes of it but that was only because I felt the ringing in my ears and I'm already having hearing issues so I'd prefer to keep what I have left intact. I made plans to meet up with The Steff with The Nick after the show at a bar.
So after the show I shoot over to the bar where The Steff is. Now remember New Guy A and New Guy B? Right... well here is New Guy C. Only... New Guy C is not just any New Guy C... he's The Donkey.
I've known The Donkey for probably around 10 years or so. He volunteers at The Hills where I do, and I spent alot of time with him and X on a truck back in the late 90's. How did she meet him? Well... she's on a quest for friends... and so she met him on MySpace. Now if there was ever a reason for that website to burn in hell this is it. So New Guy C to The Steff is a guy I've known for years.
Of course I'm getting it from both sides, meaning that he's asking me to "put a good word in" and she's asking me "what do you think?" So what do I do? Still not sure to be honest. She is a complex person who hates certain things about men... mainly the Eeyore Complex as Izzy would put it which is basically an emotional shutdown. Once someone Eeyore's with The Steff, she deads them. New Guy A is being deaded as we speak because he went Eeyore on her. I have no idea about New Guy B and his Eeyore potential... but I do know that The Donkey, along with most of us, can go Eeyore. Not only that, but he is relatively juvenile and can tend to do juvenile things. His past respect for his women has not been the greatest... nothing really brutal or anything just guys stuff... kiss and tell and whatnot. What I also know... because in the end The Donkey and I are similar in many different things... is that if he does get involved with her, he will fall for her faster than she will for him. So I get that feeling she'll end up breaking his heart.
So I told her that I felt she would break his heart last night because he has some personality traits she doesn't like. Was that the right thing to say? I'm starting to doubt myself. My bottom line with her has always been that I just want her to be happy. Does it matter who she is happy with? I can think of a billion worse people to see her with... so the doubt sets in. At the same time I need to seriously ask myself if any of that should matter to me. 10 years is a long time... and maybe I still have that version of a 17 year old I had to sling over my shoulder and carry down three flights from a party because of two shots of Sambuka in my mind when it comes to him. So maybe it isn't as bad as I make it sound to myself.
I think... I think... well... I'm beginning to think that Izzy... in her sick, demented, and twisted way... had me pegged... the same way The Nick had... the same way Dart had... and a few others as well. Overprotection is not a good thing... otherwise how will people learn?
So now here I am... and tonight we had plans for a bunch of us to go out instead of working at The Hills like I normally would. So... in what I think is my own best interest to maintain my own sanity... which is relatively rare for me to put me first... KC and I will be at The Hills tonight. We will do what I know I do well... and do what is the only thing I can feel righteous about anymore.
No one and no place has ever given me what I need... except for death, pain, and misery. So be it. Such is the drama that envelopes my miserable existence I call my life.