A little help, please
This whole living away thing is really rough at times. The emptiness I feel right now is almost severe enough to swallow me up entirely. I find myself cruising to WalMart and spending lots of money on stupid shit just to get out of the house. The old bitches who work there apparently think I'm going to steal everything because they watch me all the time.
Either that, or they're checking out my fine, fine ass.
I went to an air show yesterday. I have a shitload of photos of the Blue Angels, but the batteries in my digital camera died today, leading me to cruise over to WalMart to buy a charger for them just so I can download the photos to the computer. I don't need a charger plus 4 more batteries and for some reason trying to buy just a charger is a big challenge. All the battery manufacturers sell their chargers with 4 batteries. So I ended up with a cheap $5 charger that apparently takes all freakin' night to do the job. My good one is back at the house in Memphis and does the job in 30 minutes, but that's a hell of a drive just to charge some batteries.
Did you know that sometimes the medicine the doctors give you to treat a massive reaction to poison ivy can have worse side effects than the poison ivy itself? My Wife has been living through that hell for the past 6 weeks and she's not happy about it.
I haven't exactly spelled it out, but if you're paying attention then I'll tell you that I'm not currently in Memphis and for the time being I only go back there on weekends. This weekend was special and I did not go home. Instead, home came to me and we went to see the air show together. Then we had some New York style pizza for supper. I have concluded that I don't care much for New York style pizza. It doesn't taste bad. It's just too thin, like a Jew spit on some unleavened bread and then put just a tiny bit of cheese on it and called it a pizza. In fact, that's probably where New York style pizza came from, Jews spitting on unleavened bread.
Yesterday after the air show, the rain came pouring down. I saw the most fantastic rainbow in the most beautiful location ever, but by the time I could find a place to pull over and get my camera out, it was gone. DAMMIT!!!!!
People in this town all think like lemmings. This has inspired me to write a new post about traffic, but I don't feel like finishing it just yet. It's weird coming back here. The lanes are narrow and everyone only uses one of them, and always the same one, while the other 3 or 4 lanes remain completely abandoned and empty. But don't you dare get out of line and use one of the free lanes, because these bitches won't ever let you back into line once your exit comes up. Oh no, that would be CHEATING!
I need a reason for living. I need something that matters that I can hope for. I need a personal trainer, preferably a hot girl named Jennifer, to help me try to reconstruct the man I once was and get rid of this useless piece of shit I have become. I am running and walking a lot, but it's just not inspiring me at all. It's simply a way to burn away the hours between working and sleeping so that I don't feel quite so lonely and stressed. The other night I ran too far for my bladder and had to stop under a bridge to pee. While I was doing that the LOUDEST frog in the entire world began to make horrific frog noises. If I hadn't already been peeing I would have instantly started because it scared the piss out of me. Maybe he was mad because I was pissing under his bridge?
I have broken an important personal rule again. I don't do this often. But since I came to this town and I already knew 4 or 5 beautiful girls here through MySpace, I went ahead and contacted them and told them I was here. I figured if we ran into each other unexpectedly, well, who knows what the hell they might have done? I don't need to be pepper-sprayed or Tasered or castrated with a punt from a pair of Nikes in the middle of WalMart by some hot girl who thinks a stalker from the internet has hunted her down. So, just to try to minimize the likelihood of this occurring I told some of them that I was around. As it happens, I ended up meeting up with one of them face-to-face.
Yes, yes, I know what you're all thinking. You're thinking, "Steve, no one is supposed to ever see your face! All your photos on MySpace and Facebook are total fakes and now the girls will know and see that you're really a huge, fat, black guy with a hair lip and a club foot." Yes, but I decided to risk it anyway. And wouldn't you know, she said she had ALREADY decided that my photos were fakes because of all the Photoshopped images of me with dead presidents and Elvis and shit. So she said that when she finally saw me in real life she was surprised that she recognized me right away.
What the hell am I to make of that? She thought my photos were FAKES? Shit, if I was going to do that I'd pick some model, like the jerkoff who just sent me a friend request today obviously did. I mean, I NEVER meet internet friends face-to-face, so I could totally get away with that. But to not do it and then find out the several girls think I did just kind of messes with my head a little bit.
Anyway, she and I went walking for 2 hours and talked about everything under the sun just as if we'd already known each other for 4 years, which we actually have except that we'd never met in person before that night.
I just bought all 5 seasons of "Get Smart" on DVD. Guess what I'm probably going to be doing on the nights that I don't go running or walking? Yeah, watching porn on Showtime. But if nothing with titties is on Showtime then I'll probably be watching "Get Smart", the original TV series.
Personal Trainer Emergency
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