Hi all. It's been a week now, but that's better than a month, right? I'm in a green mood, so the blog background and text have changed to reflect that. Not sure what it means. Maybe it's like the green M and M's thing. I have been away from my wife for two weeks now!
Anyway, I have been busy as usual in the past week. I spent last weekend getting smashed with Drake Cyanide (one last time for old times sake). I also lied to a woman last week (which is something I've deeply regretted since the words came out of my mouth). I then travelled to Oklahoma on Sunday and have been here since. It also looks like I'll be here for at least three more weeks. It's been two weeks since I last saw my wife and children. I miss them a lot, but we all know this is what has to be done for now. And as others out there can attest to, it sure beats a six month deployment out at sea. The good news is I made quite a few friends in the past two weeks, which is always a good thing to do since we are all the future of this company. It will be a lot smoother since we all get along (for the most part anyway). You guys can't even imagine how tough it is to be a New Jersian in Oklahoma. Maybe I should've started that last sentence with "Y'all" instead of you guys. Sorry, I'm just not up to snuff on my Redneck Etiquitte. As if there is such a thing. So, anyway, all week, there's been this guy who has been very outspoken and picked on people in good fun. I've kinda sat back and seemed passive all the while. It's my style. But today, it was the last day and I showed him how to really pick on people, in good fun or not. He never saw it coming. Our in structor kept saying "uppercut, jab, knockout", etc... as I let loose my volley. The poor guy didn't have a chance. I had quite the reputation on my boat to make over 100 grown men cry with the things I can say, so I know a thing or two about a battle of wits.
Okay, a few of the people did bug me over the past two weeks. A sample...
A guy from Mississippi t h a t t a l k e d t h i s s s s l l o o o o o w........ A couple of times I asked him if there was a speed selector switch anywhere on him.. It was like listening to a 45 on 33 1/3 speed (did I lose any CD babies out there? If so, come on over and I'll play some vinyl for ya).
A guy who was like the Texan Redneck version of a crack addict. He made no sense, was always sleeping, and spent some time in Iraq. Dude was whacked out! One time, I was telling someone that I was from Jersey and he blurted out "Jersey?! Are you the guy what goobled rin by doctim Missouri speeg fum? I swear it started out okay, but then something misfired upstairs, and alien talk came out. So I answered "no". Wrong answer I guess, cuz he just looked at me like it wasn't a yes or no question. Oops. My bad. So I tried another approach... I said " okay, I'll be honest with you. I don't know what the fuck just came out of your mouth". Somehow, that answer was more acceptable, cuz he fell back asleep at his desk after that.
Then there's the military guy who spent so much time in that he doesn't remember a world before the military. Never let a person like that know you have time in. They will share every expounded story with you and it will force you to give a courtesy smile in lieu of a full laugh about every 5 minutes or so. If you're like me, you don't even listen. Just have an internal clock. Nod every now and then, and give the smile every five minutes (on the second). It's almost like listening to a spouse (Hey, that joke is for the ladies too. Like you really care what we did at work all day long!)
Lastly, a guy who is 35 and looks like mini-me. He thinks he's so cool, but he's like 4'6", round like a basketball, and shaves his head on purpose. But he's single cuz he doesn't want to be weighed down. I was always told that if you tell yourself something enough times, you will tend to believe it. Here is theory proven.
Okay, enough of that stuff. So I also talked to Drake a few times over the week. Funny how I always had to initiate the conversations. Hmmmmm.... it's almost as if he has things to feel guilty about. Just when you think you know a guy... okay, once again, just kidding! And I will leave the others in the dark. If you want them to know, then you can post it.
Wow, I type as much as my wife talks! But I'm not done yet. I need to put enough down so you read this until my next post! Let me get through 13 at least...
So I was 13, voted most popular in my class (I couldn't believe it either!), and was living on top of the world. See, I knew that the only way I was going to wear cool clothes was to buy them myself. So I got a job at a deli stocking the shelves and cooler. I was making 3.15 an hour (minimum wage at the time) and could finally not be picked on for my clothes. My parents had a rule for me that I had to put half of everything I made into a savings account. Noble of them, right? Just wait until I talk about 16. Anyway, I bought Bugle Boy jeans and shirts. I bought Kangaroos sneaks! I bought parachute pants and a pleather jacket with zippers all over! I was the shizzle. I remember asking for Kangaroos prior to this and getting yelled at by my step-dad. He was standing next to a bin of sneakers saying Kangaroos cost more than $5 and to get over there and find a matching left shoe to the right that he was holding up. So I was really living it up and doing it all on my own. Then a new kid came to the school. Everyone made fun of him. I couldn't figure out why. I guess it was because they were just jerks. These are the same kids that turned out to be preppie snobs in HS. I hated preps! So fake. But I'm straying... so I befriend him. And in turn, lost all popularity. It was a decision I made and was glad to do so. It was then that I decided it was better to have 1 or 2 true friends then 100 that will turn on you in a heartbeat. His name was Chris. And we hung out all the time. Now that I had clothes to wear, I could spend my money on other things. Like Transformers! I bought a new one just about every week. Between Chris and me, we had hundreds to play with. And play we did! All over town between his house and mine. What dorks, one might say, but to this day, I do not regret it. It was fun . Then came my first almost sexual encounter...
Chris and I were flying our Transformers from my house to his (a.k.a. walking down the street) when this black girl called out to us with a "Hey!". We stopped and turned to find an older girl (like 15 or 16) laying on a pool chair in a bikini getting a tan. We said "yeah?" and then she yelled out "Do you two wanna fuck me?"! Wow. Pretty bold, eh? So Chris and I talked it over like this:
"What do you think?"
"I dunno. How about you?"
"Well, it would be cool to say we're not virgins."
"Yeah, I guess, but what about the battle?"
"True, we are in the middle of a cosmic battle and the Decepticons are winning."
"We couldn't possibly leave the battle until the Autobots win."
"Right."
So, we turn back to her and shout out "No thanks!" and walk on to continue our battle.
Sorry, I need to pause here a moment..............
Okay, I'm back. Was that pathetic or what? Unbelievable! It would be cool to say I wanted to save myself for the right girl (not true), or that I'm not into black chicks (also not true), or that I am mentally handicapped, but no. It was because I was playing with my toys! Arrrgh! Anyway, during this time, Chris and I were also hanging out with a third friend, a girl named K. She was definately nothing more than a friend (my standards were wayyyyy too high for her to achieve). I mention that cuz Chris moved away (his dad was in the military) when I was 14. A very dark time for me. I had no best friend anymore. Just K for the time being. I got a bit heavy cuz I didn't do anything for months, just sat around and dove into my studies. Luckily for me, it was not long after that period that I started to look at women in a whole new way, but that will have to wait for the next post!
So I hope I wrote enough for you guys and that it was a nice mix of present and past. I just realized I put no future in this post! Okay, here's the future... Drake will tell you all about what he did to me, but he will twist it to make it so that he did nothing wrong and will further twist it to make me be a bad guy. Oh yeah, also, the antichrist will rise from a European country and rule the world for seven years (that will happen sooner than you think).
That's all for now folks. Have a great time until next we talk!
B'gye,
Dirty
Friday, September 22, 2006
Friday, September 15, 2006
The early days
Okay, let me start off by apologizing to everyone out there (especially Drake Cyanide, who has hyped me up a bit only to be dissappointed up to this point). I have been looking hard for a new job lately while working my current job, and although I would love to tell you all about it, I'm gonna save it for another post.
I gotta tell ya how ironic life is... so, years ago Drake Cyanide and I would hang out in various places in the world, and there was nothing I wouldn't say, nothing I wouldn't do (within marital laws mind you). And Drake was much, much more reserved (he had his shining moments though, don't get me wrong). Anyway, just this past Tuesday I came to his town and we got together and went out for some beers. How things experienced in life change a person. He has become me and I am now who he was. He flirts, he gets laughter, he is so outgoing now. I am much more introverted now. Shy to talk to women, not willing to tell a joke for a laugh, etc (although I have my moments every now and then). I guess what I'm saying is (in my best and very apt Fat Bastard voioce)...
Give me back my mojo, Drake!!!!!!!!
Okay, not really. Keep it. You've seen me. I have no need for it anymore. Go forth and flirt. You are no longer a Padawan. Good luck.
Oh my. I sound so depressed. Maybe I am. Drake has told me to vent in the posts and it will help. So I have begun to do so down below. There is a summary of things. I'm not sure what all of you will be interested in hearing, so I just touched on things here and there, If you want to hear more on anything particular, let me know and I'll elaborate. I could also use some help/new friends to help me out of this funk I'm in. Also, ask any questions that you want to about me. Nothing offends me (even though I'll pretend a bit every so often). Enough of this rambling, let me start with the early years. I will try to do all the history posts in chronological order, but this post is to sum up my first 12 years. It all started in the womb...
Okay, so maybe not back that far. Let me start by saying I grew up poor. Really poor.
My parents met in High School in New Jersey back in the 70's. My mother was 16, my father was 21 I think. They got pregnant, but she miscarried. You'd think one of 'em would have been scared into learning a lesson. But nope, she was pregnant at 17 and had me at 18. Oh yeah, she didn't finish High School either. Things were rough but at least we were a family. Three years later, they were separated. He didn't want any more kids, my mother got pregnant against his wishes. It was not the only reason, but it was the final straw. So from 3 to 6, it was the three of us (mom, me, brother). I have very few memories from that time frame. I remember acting older than I was (after all, I was the man of the house). I remember learning to ride a bike (also the first time that I learned to walk away when frustrated, cool off, then try again). I remember my baby brother cracking open his skull by falling down steps (as if that wasn't funny enough, the day he got out of the hospital, my babysitter was carrying him on her shoulders, tripped and my brother reopened his skull. Too funny). Lastly, I remember one night in particular. My mother was working that evening and I did something to get yelled at by the babysitter. She sent me to bed early and for some reason I took it hard an d felt very unloved. So I laid there with my head at the foot of my bed, sad as can be. My babysitter came in to check on me and I pretended to be asleep. She moved me around to be in bed the right way and gave me kiss on my forehead. As you get to know me through the future blogs, you'll realize that I am not very emotional. I don't know how to be. My mother was a closed bottle and my father wasn't really there, so I was raised to have thick skin. So it was really weird that my guard was down that night. And even weirder that all it took was a kiss on the forehead for me to feel loved.
So, as I turned 6, my mother was telling me that we had to find a new place to live. I assumed it would be with her boyfriend, a guy who owned his own pizza joint. When he asked her to marry him though, she ran from him. My hopeful future was gone. At 6. She instead started dating an auto mechanic and after two dates, we all moved in with him. This was the end of any chance to have a good life. I knew there was something different about him. He was completely different than the pizza joint owner, and that can't have been good. Although I had a bad feeling, I didn't let on to my little brother about it (I still felt like the man of the family, a role I've had for 3 years now). My brother and I shared a bed in our bedroom. We would wake up and find slugs on our walls and floor. He refused to let her work, so we lived on his meager salary. We often went without hot water and other stuff, but this guy always had his cigarettes, coca cola (at least 2 liters a day), and marijuana. Within the first week, we had gotten into it as I was running water for a bath. Fully clothed with my back to the tub, he pushed me as hard as he could. I fell back into the tub and hit my head on the tiling hard anough to crack it and put a huge knot on the back of my head. It was at that point that I first hated him. We moved again when I was 8, then again when I was 10, and again when I was 12. All within the same town and so I got to stay in the same school. Here's a bright spot to my childhood up to this point... After kindergarten, my teacher recognized above average intelligence in me and I was bussed to a school for an honors program from the 1st grade on, so no matter where we moved within the town, I was bussed to the same place. Other memories... I had to write a 50 page book reort on England and France in the 19th century. When was this? The 6th grade (We had a school strictly for the 6th grade and we were separated my abilities. Somehow I ended up in the top class and we got our asses worked off). I also broke both of my wrists at the same time in the 6th grade while playing football. And I think that's enough of the early years. There really is more than 2 paragraphs worth of stuff in the first 12 years of my life, but I've bored you all enough (especially since you know nothing about me in the present).
All of the good stuff started when I turned 13. But that's for another time.
Thanks for stopping by and getting all the way through this very boring post. Please drop me a comment letting me know you were here and say anything.
B'gye
Dirty
I gotta tell ya how ironic life is... so, years ago Drake Cyanide and I would hang out in various places in the world, and there was nothing I wouldn't say, nothing I wouldn't do (within marital laws mind you). And Drake was much, much more reserved (he had his shining moments though, don't get me wrong). Anyway, just this past Tuesday I came to his town and we got together and went out for some beers. How things experienced in life change a person. He has become me and I am now who he was. He flirts, he gets laughter, he is so outgoing now. I am much more introverted now. Shy to talk to women, not willing to tell a joke for a laugh, etc (although I have my moments every now and then). I guess what I'm saying is (in my best and very apt Fat Bastard voioce)...
Give me back my mojo, Drake!!!!!!!!
Okay, not really. Keep it. You've seen me. I have no need for it anymore. Go forth and flirt. You are no longer a Padawan. Good luck.
Oh my. I sound so depressed. Maybe I am. Drake has told me to vent in the posts and it will help. So I have begun to do so down below. There is a summary of things. I'm not sure what all of you will be interested in hearing, so I just touched on things here and there, If you want to hear more on anything particular, let me know and I'll elaborate. I could also use some help/new friends to help me out of this funk I'm in. Also, ask any questions that you want to about me. Nothing offends me (even though I'll pretend a bit every so often). Enough of this rambling, let me start with the early years. I will try to do all the history posts in chronological order, but this post is to sum up my first 12 years. It all started in the womb...
Okay, so maybe not back that far. Let me start by saying I grew up poor. Really poor.
My parents met in High School in New Jersey back in the 70's. My mother was 16, my father was 21 I think. They got pregnant, but she miscarried. You'd think one of 'em would have been scared into learning a lesson. But nope, she was pregnant at 17 and had me at 18. Oh yeah, she didn't finish High School either. Things were rough but at least we were a family. Three years later, they were separated. He didn't want any more kids, my mother got pregnant against his wishes. It was not the only reason, but it was the final straw. So from 3 to 6, it was the three of us (mom, me, brother). I have very few memories from that time frame. I remember acting older than I was (after all, I was the man of the house). I remember learning to ride a bike (also the first time that I learned to walk away when frustrated, cool off, then try again). I remember my baby brother cracking open his skull by falling down steps (as if that wasn't funny enough, the day he got out of the hospital, my babysitter was carrying him on her shoulders, tripped and my brother reopened his skull. Too funny). Lastly, I remember one night in particular. My mother was working that evening and I did something to get yelled at by the babysitter. She sent me to bed early and for some reason I took it hard an d felt very unloved. So I laid there with my head at the foot of my bed, sad as can be. My babysitter came in to check on me and I pretended to be asleep. She moved me around to be in bed the right way and gave me kiss on my forehead. As you get to know me through the future blogs, you'll realize that I am not very emotional. I don't know how to be. My mother was a closed bottle and my father wasn't really there, so I was raised to have thick skin. So it was really weird that my guard was down that night. And even weirder that all it took was a kiss on the forehead for me to feel loved.
So, as I turned 6, my mother was telling me that we had to find a new place to live. I assumed it would be with her boyfriend, a guy who owned his own pizza joint. When he asked her to marry him though, she ran from him. My hopeful future was gone. At 6. She instead started dating an auto mechanic and after two dates, we all moved in with him. This was the end of any chance to have a good life. I knew there was something different about him. He was completely different than the pizza joint owner, and that can't have been good. Although I had a bad feeling, I didn't let on to my little brother about it (I still felt like the man of the family, a role I've had for 3 years now). My brother and I shared a bed in our bedroom. We would wake up and find slugs on our walls and floor. He refused to let her work, so we lived on his meager salary. We often went without hot water and other stuff, but this guy always had his cigarettes, coca cola (at least 2 liters a day), and marijuana. Within the first week, we had gotten into it as I was running water for a bath. Fully clothed with my back to the tub, he pushed me as hard as he could. I fell back into the tub and hit my head on the tiling hard anough to crack it and put a huge knot on the back of my head. It was at that point that I first hated him. We moved again when I was 8, then again when I was 10, and again when I was 12. All within the same town and so I got to stay in the same school. Here's a bright spot to my childhood up to this point... After kindergarten, my teacher recognized above average intelligence in me and I was bussed to a school for an honors program from the 1st grade on, so no matter where we moved within the town, I was bussed to the same place. Other memories... I had to write a 50 page book reort on England and France in the 19th century. When was this? The 6th grade (We had a school strictly for the 6th grade and we were separated my abilities. Somehow I ended up in the top class and we got our asses worked off). I also broke both of my wrists at the same time in the 6th grade while playing football. And I think that's enough of the early years. There really is more than 2 paragraphs worth of stuff in the first 12 years of my life, but I've bored you all enough (especially since you know nothing about me in the present).
All of the good stuff started when I turned 13. But that's for another time.
Thanks for stopping by and getting all the way through this very boring post. Please drop me a comment letting me know you were here and say anything.
B'gye
Dirty
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