Not Your Father's Journal
Oct. 27th, 2006
06:08 pm - Back to the Land of Oz
So, there I was.....Have you heard this one? Actually this one is true. I had planned to retire soon. Like early next year soon. I was going to start life as a retiree/civilian. There was such a wieght lifted off my shoulders knowing that I was getting ready to shut it down and take the uniform off for good. I have done this for a while now, so I figured I was ready. Wrong. I wasn't. But I didn't have to make a decision. The Army said I could move from here in Baton Rouge back to Kansas, without having to retire. I got all excited about being back where I belong. I didn't realize how much I miss the midwest. The cold weather, the people, the familiarity of it all. The family is excited. They would go tomorrow if the Army said it was ok. I mean we have adjusted here....but not as much as we thought we would. It is tough coming from a military area to the civilian world. The positive that I have had come out of it was being able to spend quality time with my children. The job has afforded me great hours and really not a lot of responsibility. And they pay me too? I know...I was thinking the same way you were. So that is what will be consuming all of time until the big day. Well, that and football...I mean, HELLOOOOO!!!! We will leave sometime in December. I guess we are T minus 45 or so. I havent exactly counted. Wish me luck. I will need it.
Oct. 13th, 2006
06:58 pm - A flight on Tangent Airways.......
Ladies and Gentleman, This is your Captain speaking.....
So really...nothing to talk about or vent on. These are what I will call random musing on my part. Saw a Chevrolet today. Nothing odd about that right? They had put a "P" in front of Impala. I laughed out loud. I do not do that very often.
Friday the 13th is not as spooky as it seems. Am I superstitious? No. Ok. Maybe a little. I mean acknowledging superstition makes one that way, does it not? Like, black cats walk in front of my car all the time. I say to myself, "Ahh, I don't believe that shit." But every time I see a black cat, it pops into my head. Kinda like the whole "walk under the ladder, get bad luck" thing. What's that? I am clueless? Yeah, your probably right.
As you may or may not know, I am a flirt. I know, big shock there. Anyways, sometimes I do not do it, and I still get in trouble. Makes me wanna go back and do it, so the punishment will fit the crime.....or whatever that saying is. Then there are times, when, I will be all innocent and I will find myself getting hit on. I am flattered. I mean, who wouldn't be.
I hate being in the office doing nothing but watching the clock move. Slowly. I am officially bored. Now I have started writing in the present tense. WTF?!?! Am I going to narrate the rest of my day? Oh hell no. I am just gonna post this lame attempt at humor/non humor, and call it a day. I really need to look into changing from the LJ to something easier on the eyes. Or brain. Or whatever.
Oct. 11th, 2006
I almost never am able to come up with something to say two days in a row, but I think I can pull something off today. I spend a lot of time by myself, because the job that I have is obviously not labor intensive, and more notably time managed. My day consists of waking up around 6 or so to help get the boys ready. I have come a long way on this issue. Really, I have. No snickering! I used to stay in bed until 8 or so...damn those were the good old days. Anyway, I think it ties in to the fact that 1) I bought a new bed in April (therefore the sleep has improved) and b) I have a purpose in life. That said, I guess I should quantify "purpose in life." Being involved in all things family (read children), is big. I want my children to know that I am there for them and I try to be a friend as well as "Dad." So, I make sure they are ready, dressed properly, and have all of their school stuff. Then I walk my youngest to the bus stop. I don't have to, because it is 200 feet or so from the house. Nice, huh? I want to though. I get a good feeling when I know I have seen him off to school. He knows (or at least I hope he knows, that he is my baby boy and all that mushy stuff) that I wouldn't miss it for anything. Oh, and did I mention the hot moms? They are there too. Come on, you had to know there were ulterior motives. I drink coffee for an hour or so (he he...he said an hour...) after the bus stop mommygroup experience, while reading blogs and checking email and chatting with whomever I find on that early in the morning. Once I have exhausted their patience and they tell me to take my lazy ass to work, I jump in the shower and get ready. I take my time and at this point in my life, I really do not worry about what others might think or say of my work habits. I earned it. Enough said on that. I listen to a lot of talk radio, on my way to work, because the music gets too repetitive. Last year, when the hurricane hit, sometimes my trip from work would almost 2 hours, for a little over 20 miles....WTF? Anyhoo, I get to work, and sit here. Yep, that’s it. Oh, that and surf the web. Not too much though, as the Army has their filters running nonstop to keep me from running amok. Who uses that term anyway? "Running Amok" Oooooh scary! NOT!! So, the day is pretty much shot, right? Wrong! I go home, and I actually do things, like the laundry, the dishes, and so on. Then it is on to football practice, with my son. More hot moms there, but I think you figured that out already. Man, I am so transparent. But, all in all, I feel like I have contributed to the world, almost on a daily basis. So what is your day like? I really want to know. Do not be shy. I will not make fun of you. That much. Right away. Out loud.
Oct. 10th, 2006
06:26 pm - Mom and Dad....I Love You.
I told myself that I would do this and now I am doing this. Every so often, I will reflect on things that give me a reason to pause and look at life. I find myself watching people my age interacting with their parents and realize that I have no basis of reference. My Mother passed away in 1989, and my Father in 1995. I was stationed in Kansas, when my mom went so there was some guilt about not being there or having spoken to her that much. I chalked it up to being in the military and living away from the rest of the family. I think about the fact that she never saw her grandchildren and how proud she would be of me and them. If I think too much about it, I catch myself getting sad and down. That isn't a bad thing, except for the fact, that I hardly ever allow myself to get emotional. I do have a reputation to maintain. I wish there was some way to talk to her and get from her the advice I have probably needed over the years. Knowing what I know now, I would pick her mind, for everything I could. It is nowhere near mothers day or fathers day, but I do find myself missing them more and more. My Dad died when I was stationed in Germany, and I did not talk to him very much before he passed. A huge regret. I guess I just wasn't as mature as I thought I was. I always hear that song, by Mike and the Mechanics, "The Living Years" and think of my dad. We didn't have any existing feud or anything, I just thought some of the lyrics fit. My son, was born a little over a year after my dad died, and it was another instance, where I wish I could have shared that with him. I mean he had a lot of grand kids, but like any parent, I wanted him to meet mine and be "Grandpa." Since then I have always made it a rule, never to leave a loved one of mine without a "I love you." It does not matter if I am gonna see them in 10 minutes or 10 days. I know that I need to have that peace of mind knowing that they know how I feel. I am not sure why I am posting this, maybe it is one of those conscious clearing things, or I just needed to type it out and reflect a little bit. Either way, thanks for listening.
Sep. 8th, 2006
01:45 pm - Things.....the way I see it.
How about that for a generic title to this post? I couldn't get any lamer. Well, I am sure if I concentrated I could. Nothing like having to work on being lame. Nah. Too much football to watch and too many Hot MILF's to flirt with at the game tonight. Damn, I am always doing that. Typing shit, that should otherwise be kept up here (pointing at my head) and not shared. Too late? Oh well. I guess if you fall into that demographic, and will be in attendance, then be on your game this eve. I know what you are thinking. How can this guy talk about flirting with other women. Isn't he happily married? Sure I am. But there is nothing wrong with keeping your skillz sharp. Everyone flirts. If you disagree, prove me wrong. Women do it to get out of tickets, and men do it because....well....we can. If you see an attractive person of the opposite sex, no matter the situation, you always tend to smile a little more, flip your hair (chick thing) so they can see, and it is natural. The laws of attraction do not care about what your "situation" is. It just doesn't. I say to you, who say you don't flirt. Bullshit. While I am on the subject. Masturbation is one of those things that everyone does, and some people lie about. "I don't do that." Righhhhhtttt! Or, what about this one? "I am married, therefore I don't find it necessary." What-the-fuck-ever, dude. Married Sex is an oxymoron. I understand why people wouldn't share that with people, but do not lie and say it does not happen. Just say,"I am not comfortable talking about it." Otherwise, you are pissing on my leg, and telling me it's raining. I better get an umbrella.
Aug. 31st, 2006
I was working down in the dudgeon, meticulously assembling the monster I have created, because that's what mad scientist's do, right? I am not a mad scientist, but for the purpose of this post I will roll with it. Cool with you? That's what I thought. I was attaching the brain that I harvested from some chick from Jersey who didn’t need it anyway and I heard this commotion outside of my castle (drab army office) just beyond the moat. There must have been hundreds of people (ok, there were 4, maybe)
Who were holding up torches, yelling and screaming at me. I walked to the edge of the window and cupped my ear (because that makes it sooo much easier to hear a throng of people shouting to you at the same time) and I could make out what they were saying. "Ghost hunting, slew gun love a witch." Yeah, that didn't make any sense to me either. I leaned in to hear it better (once again a tip for those of you trying to listen to a riotous group from afar, you are welcome) and I heard them say, "Post something, you son-of-a-bitch."
Okay, I see now. Apparently if you start a journal/blog/thingie, you are supposed to post every once in a while. I was not aware of this, as I was never issued the memo. I can take a hint. It can't be subtle though, it has to be all in my face and shit. I will provide you with an example. "Dude, you seriously need to post a new entry. Or how about kicking livejournal to the curb and getting a Blogger or something? I know Blogger sucks pretty hard, too, but it is a start. You are so funny over at RSM's site - I want to catch some of your wittiness here! Come on!" Things like that make you head blow up like that one dude who had a bomb strapped to his head, remember that? No? Oh...well, I better get back on topic. I will give another example. I said I appreciated the love someone was giving my LJ. This is what I got. "Re: I appreciate the love....
In that case, I lovingly say to you, 'Post already, you lame ass bitch!'. Your Baby Sister (who loves you)" I would like to point out that I neither a bitch nor lame. I most certainly an ass. Man. I am most certainly an ass man. Hmmmm...ass. Sorry, got sidetracked again. My own sister putting me on blast (mandatory urbandictionary.com lookup) about not posting for awhile. Whatever. I do not need this pressure. Ok, I do, or nothing would get done.
I traveled to Nashville early this month for the job that I have. I would say work, but I do not want you spitting your coffee out on your monitors. Work is a dirty four letter word for me. I traveled in my uniform and I tell you this because I do it for a number of reasons. I am very proud of being military, no doubt about that, and I have served honorably. Now before you go thinking that I am saying that to hear myself talk about myself, which is not the case. Reason number one: It takes up more room in my luggage, so it is easier to wear, than carry. The only downside is they make me take my boots off at the security checkpoint, which I do not mind, but it takes a lot longer than Biff in front of me wearing penny loafers. These are not in ascending or descending order of importance by the way. Reason number two: I have a lot of brethren still placing themselves in harms way overseas, and I want to keep them on people’s minds. It is for them, that I wear it. And C: You never know when you will get bumped up to first class. Word. I was waiting to board the plane and an attendant asked for my boarding pass, which would double for my LJ note taker later on, and walked away with it. She returned with a hard copy later that said, First Class. Sweet. Stretch the legs out. Eat a meal. A real one. They use real glassware up there. Did you know that? So, I being the perpetual flirt that I am struck up a conversation with this General, who happened to be a female. A hot female. No, seriously. She was cute. I guess that would make her a GILF. In my mind, I am thinking, "Does she have a myspace?" My mouth is saying, "So where you from Ma'am?" She tells me that she is a basketball fan and that we have the same college as our team. I almost got on one knee and proposed.
I know that there was a point to all of this, but I am not sure where to make it. I guess I will make a promise to post more. Put the damn torches down. For now.
Jul. 28th, 2006
I am sure that this picture was taken between my junior and senior years of high school, so that would have been sometime in the 60's.....(awkward silence).....I am kidding, it was 1984 or so. I must have gained a whole me, weight wise, since then. It is for Cross Country or Track. Or maybe it was for the future Uni-brow club. Look at those catepillars! I was waiting for the Stridex people to show up so we could do a "before" picture. They never showed. Fuckers. Now I look like Edward James Olmos. Well, not that bad. Bryan Adams...no...not that bad either. I can't believe I have so much to say about a picture. Man, I was skinny. And Hot! Right? Seriously, I would have done me. No wait, that came out wrong. If I had to compare myself to a Muppet like her Uber-Coolness, RSM, at http://www.rockstarmommy.com/ , I would say I look like Fozzie Bear. Not so much for the looks, but the description that wikipedia gives as: Fozzie Bear, a (questionably talented) stand-up comic bear, and Kermit's unofficial second-in-command. I am way funnier than him. Wocka Wocka Wocka!
Jul. 24th, 2006
I didn't/don't have any "obsessions" to speak of. I am gonna go with memorable times in my life. Just deal with it.
Toddlerhood (up til 5 years old)
Bozo: The Clown, I couldn't get enough of the Grand Prize Game. I used to practice with my own bucket and ping pong balls. I wanted to win bad. I got all sad when the Grand March started, because that meant Bozo was over. I tried to look down the cleavage of the women on the TV. I would push my brothers ten speed around, from the side and act like I was riding it. Tonsils came out this time period. Lived with a foster family. Cracked my head on an end table. 28 stitches. Maybe that's whats wrong with me. Lived in Iowa. Said you guys all the time.
Moved to Louisiana to live with my Mom (read Flower Child) I was so paranoid. She used to roll joints on the porch. I knew then I was gonna be law enforcement.
went to like 3 different grade schools. Played baseball. Hit in the eye by a girl. I called her a bad name. Real bad name. Had hippie hair. Dorothy Hamill, you bitch, I hate you. I was very responsible at this age. Helped Mom with laundry. I had to "pick my own switch" several times. If you don't what a switch is. Ask someone. Saw my neighbor naked (she was hot, at least I think she was). I fell instantly in love. Would re-enact Lincoln's assassination for Mom's friends. I thought I was a thespian. I learned later that I was straight. I said Yall all the time.
Moved back to Iowa to live with Dad. We had 10 kids living in the same house (brothers/sisters/half brothers/stepsisters/combination of all these) so we always had something to do. Play. Fight. Playfight. Chores. Spent most of the time playing sports, street baseball, basketball, and football. Won the city Recreation Frisbee Football Championship. Fell in love once a week. Fell out of love once a week. Said you guys half the time and yall half the time.
Early Teens (13-16)
High School, Journalism, Sports Editor, Cross Country, Track (not fast, but not slow either), The grades were ok, nothing flashy. I passed. Hackey Sack. Feathered my hair like Shawn Cassidy. Wore painters pants, then the parachute pants came out. Now I can't remember which came first. Screw it. Still said you guys more than yall.
Late Teens (16-20)
Signed up for the Army a year before I graduated. Got laid finally (just in case you were wondering) and spent the summer before basic training living with my sister. And trying to tag everything possible. Basic Training and Advanced Individual Training, then off to Korea (sup xtine) for a year. I spent every dime I had that year on a good time. A real good time. Got married. That didn't work out well. Different post. Some other day. Lived in Kansas. Ahhhhhh. Kansas.
No you guys and no yall in vocabulary if you are keeping score.
Early 20's - Present Day (this is a lot of time, so sit back and relax)
Never ending search for....well....you know.....ok....I will say it. Happiness. Yeah right. I was looking to get laid. Volunteered to go to Desert Storm. Um...what the hell was I thinking? Very maturing experience. February 14th of every year I think about the Scud missile that almost killed us. Happy Valentines Day! Got married again. Instant Dad, with stepson, then Junior (still his nickname but fading fast) came along. Moved to New Jersey and worked in Philly (sup RSM) then moved to Germany. My little Deustche Mark was born. Visited France (Eiffel Tower/sup Mona Lisa/Moulin Rouge), drove to Spain (Barcelona) and got a parking ticket. Never paid it. I am on the lam. Shhhhh. Oktoberfest. Whoa. Never sleep while drunk and family and friends have makeup. Moved back to Kansas. Volunteered to go to war again (hellloo dumbass) and came back. safely. Living in the south now. Katrina, you bitch. I work in the Red Stick. Saying Yall again. Gonna retire soon. I am officially old. I got meme'd. I used protection. No worries.
Jul. 21st, 2006
Nope. Not gonna do it. I like to hear myself talk. I have been told that a lot. I can't help it. I have an opinion about everything. I do. More often than not, I will give it to you before you ask. It's not that you would even consider not asking me. Would you? I am prepared to weigh in on everything you are able to throw my way. I have not been rendered speechless as of yet. Go ahead and try me. I dare ya. I read a lot of online journals, blogs, etc. I am beginning to think it is an addiction. Like myspace. Don't even get me started on that. Might as well be called mycrackspace. New Comment. Refresh. New Message. Refresh. New friend request. Refresh. Tom called me personally and told me to chill the fuck out. I think I am gonna get carpal tunnel in my pointer finger in my right hand from refreshing so much on my favorite blogs. So how much is too much? I mean, will someone end up conducting an online intervention? "Hey, Dude." "Glad you came." "We wanna talk to you about something." I suppose I should have seen this coming. I think that dreaming in blogspeak was the first thing I noticed. "WTF, OMFG, SAHM, SIL, LMFAO" But it didn't stop there. Oh no. Watching the sunset and wondering what kind of comments I could get on Flickr from it. Yeah, I got it bad. I mean, bad meaning good. I think.
Only one way to know. Refresh.
Jul. 20th, 2006
I am conceited. No doubt about that. I tell people I am not conceited, I am convinced. That goes over like a fat dude crowding the desert portion of the buffet. I know I am not a "hottie" by any stretch of the imagination, but I haven't been beat by the ugly stick either. Well, maybe once. But it was like a love tap. Anyway, I am sure you (Internet Peeps) will have something to say on the subject.
So, my Pseudo Big Sis (She made that name up, lame huh?), Rockstarmommy, mentions this website, MyHeritage.com, where you can go and post a picture and the wizards behind the curtain scientifically compare your picture to celebrities, past and present, with the percentage of likeness of your picture to them. Like a lamb to the slaughter, I put a picture of myself on there and let it do it's magic. I put one on there with me sporting a goatee (I think Tom Green, when I see it), and it (wizard fuckers) spewed out these results. Placido Domingo (72%) Old guy, singer,not ugly. Charlie Sheen (61%) Cool. I can dig that. John Candy? Don't bother asking what the % was. And no laughing. I mean it. I see you, yeah you, snickering about that. Russell Crowe (56%) Yeah, I am the man now. Matthew McConaughey (aka McConahottie) and Colin Farrell(49%) No B.S. involved here. It really had those two on there. Who wouldn't be impressed by these results? I was walking around with a smirk on my face.
Today, I put a different picture on there, with out the goatee. Results? Yeah, not so much. Ok, fine. Apparently I have aged 30 years with out facial hair. I will be teaching Grasshopper things in syndication it seems. David Carradine (56%) Whiskey Tango Foxtrot? Martin Sheen (51%) GTFOH (get the fuck outta here), I went from Denise Richards future ex to her future ex father in law. This is bullshit. I am currently looking for more pictures of me to put up there and get made fun of at that website. I am sure they are saying to themselves, "Why does this guy keep coming back for more?" I am not conceited. I am convinced. The question is...Who do you look like?
Navigate: (Previous 10 Entries)