It's Friday. Kevin and I met at Sully's. The well-endowed bartender moved away from us. She smiled, but Mike came over and poured the Jameson. Sully came out to say hi and we began to talk more about our days at St, Michael the Marvelous. We really got a kick out of all the shit they tried to lay on us when we were young and impressionable.
I told them that once I got away from there I never looked back. Tammy, my current wife, thinks she is a Wicken. She loves the earth, she feels the spirits, and she thinks that sex brings us closer to the universal spirit, so I'm down with that. ( she says that blow-jobs are not cohesive however).
This is what I figured, religion is kind of like an initiation. If yo pass the test you get to be a part of the "in-group." Then they treat you as if you know something, when in fact what yhey got you to believe is not only shit, it's absurd.
That's the test. They tell you this crap about virgin birth and resurrection and heaven and hell and sin. They tell you that everything that any normal boy thinks about is a sin. Don't touch yourself, don't touch girls, don't get an erection, don't beat-off in the confessional. They tell you Jesus is watching you all the time, and that all these miracles happened and that everyting bad, like dead babies, and hurricanes comes from the devil, or from when God is angry at queers.
By the time you are in sixth grade they give you tests to see if you really believe that kind of shit. If you do then they know they can sell you anything and they have you for life. Then they send you off to war to fight the Muslims whose Mullahs have taught their soldiers their own brand of weird shit.
It makes more sense when Tammy takes Chelsea and me out into the woods to hug the trees. And that really mkes no sense at all.
Friday, June 15, 2007
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
mother
I went to vist my mother/ I think she really likes to see me but it tough to tell because she always looks like a combination of buzzed and scared. She looks this way because she is.
Ma is a pill freak. Pain pills, any kind, Oxys are the best. I try to talk to her but her face looks glazed and her eyes are just points, tiny and unfocused. She slurs a bit sometimes.
I used to yell at her and tell her she is a junkie but it never did any good. Sammy, the guy she has lived with for the last ten years tells me that it really upsets her. He says she used to cry when I left. So now I just go and say hi. I ask a couple of questions and don't get answers. I tell her what I'm doing. I tell her I will bring one of the girls around, but I don't mean it. I don't want any kid to see her this way. It makes me sad.
Ma got started on pills right after Dad left. She got wind that he was driving across town with some babe in his car, so she got obsessed and went to catch him in the act. She tracked him and this woman Carol down and chased them to a stop sign. Dad stopped, Mom didn't. She rammed right into him. The bad part was that she was in a Saturn and he was in his Ford pick-up. She wreckedher car, her back and the marrige.
Dad never really wanted to leave. he was just a charmer and enjoyed some extrra-curricular stuff. He has often told me not to do any of that. I nod and smile.
Mom alwyas asks about him. I try not to answer.
I like Sammy. We watch the Sox together. He's quiet and he drinks, but he's good to Ma.
Ma is a pill freak. Pain pills, any kind, Oxys are the best. I try to talk to her but her face looks glazed and her eyes are just points, tiny and unfocused. She slurs a bit sometimes.
I used to yell at her and tell her she is a junkie but it never did any good. Sammy, the guy she has lived with for the last ten years tells me that it really upsets her. He says she used to cry when I left. So now I just go and say hi. I ask a couple of questions and don't get answers. I tell her what I'm doing. I tell her I will bring one of the girls around, but I don't mean it. I don't want any kid to see her this way. It makes me sad.
Ma got started on pills right after Dad left. She got wind that he was driving across town with some babe in his car, so she got obsessed and went to catch him in the act. She tracked him and this woman Carol down and chased them to a stop sign. Dad stopped, Mom didn't. She rammed right into him. The bad part was that she was in a Saturn and he was in his Ford pick-up. She wreckedher car, her back and the marrige.
Dad never really wanted to leave. he was just a charmer and enjoyed some extrra-curricular stuff. He has often told me not to do any of that. I nod and smile.
Mom alwyas asks about him. I try not to answer.
I like Sammy. We watch the Sox together. He's quiet and he drinks, but he's good to Ma.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Weekend
I often reach a point when I just don't care. I look at the Sunday paper for about six minutes and really find that I don't give a shit about any of it.
Paris is in jail?
Everyone in Iraq is still killing each other?
The President is an idiot?
So are the twenty-three people who want to take his place.
Enough of all of that crap.
I spent a nice affectionate morning with my wife. I played with my daughter for a couple of hours until she wanted her Mommy, which was fine with me.
Now I will sit and watch the game and open up a beer.
Everything else can go to hell, except it seems like it's already there.
Paris is in jail?
Everyone in Iraq is still killing each other?
The President is an idiot?
So are the twenty-three people who want to take his place.
Enough of all of that crap.
I spent a nice affectionate morning with my wife. I played with my daughter for a couple of hours until she wanted her Mommy, which was fine with me.
Now I will sit and watch the game and open up a beer.
Everything else can go to hell, except it seems like it's already there.
Friday, June 8, 2007
Part of the job
One of the greatest benefits of the job I have is that every once in a while, like every month or so, I get laid.
See, when you sell condos, or when you manage them, you have to deal with a lot of single and divorced women. Many of them are in their thirties, forties and fifties. Some of them a pretty good looking. You don't get any Lindsey Lohans, or Jenifer Anistons like that, but these women can be pretty nice. Yes, often their tits tend to slide off to the side, and their legs are a little fat and their stomach may hang down. But they'be been though a divorce and are raising kids by themselves, so let be real.
And they feel so good. (I love to fuck!)
At first I thought it was me, and that I was charming and irresistable. But eventually a realzied that many of these ladies have been alone and horny for months or years.
Just this week I went to bring over the documents to a woman who had moved into her new place. She needed some help lifting boxes and moving dishes and stuff. So then we found a bottle of wine because we were thirsty.
Then I kind of stood next to her, which is kind of a test. She can turn this way or that way. So, she turned this way, and bam! we were stuck together. In five seconds her shirt is off, then we are on the bed and then we are going at it.
Welcome to your new home, Sandy. I'll be back in a week or so to see if you have any questions or problems. I always try to be helpful.
See, when you sell condos, or when you manage them, you have to deal with a lot of single and divorced women. Many of them are in their thirties, forties and fifties. Some of them a pretty good looking. You don't get any Lindsey Lohans, or Jenifer Anistons like that, but these women can be pretty nice. Yes, often their tits tend to slide off to the side, and their legs are a little fat and their stomach may hang down. But they'be been though a divorce and are raising kids by themselves, so let be real.
And they feel so good. (I love to fuck!)
At first I thought it was me, and that I was charming and irresistable. But eventually a realzied that many of these ladies have been alone and horny for months or years.
Just this week I went to bring over the documents to a woman who had moved into her new place. She needed some help lifting boxes and moving dishes and stuff. So then we found a bottle of wine because we were thirsty.
Then I kind of stood next to her, which is kind of a test. She can turn this way or that way. So, she turned this way, and bam! we were stuck together. In five seconds her shirt is off, then we are on the bed and then we are going at it.
Welcome to your new home, Sandy. I'll be back in a week or so to see if you have any questions or problems. I always try to be helpful.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Growth through misery
Whoever it was who said that misery can lead to personal growth was certainly correct. What makes me happy is that the it was someone else's misery that led to my financial growth.
We all knew that Chester was taking a real risk when he bought two blocks of not so desirable houses, tore them down and built forty-two condos. We knew the market was getting over-built and it was time to make money in foreclosures. But Chester didn't care, he had some loans, formed a new company and took the plunge. He has had companies go belly-up before. There wasn't much of his money involved.
So the project crapped out last week. Two days later we jumped in a bought the whole thing from the bank at two dimes to the dollar. Today we finished selling it all to Mr. Wong for almost twice the price. Wong can fill it quickly with illegals -- I still don't know why everyone is so aginst them. They pay high prices to be left alone.
So, we make money.
Wong makes money
The illegals get a place to pile twelve people into three rooms
The bank loses a few bucks
Chester will have to find a different bank for his next venture. That should take him a month. He;s going to Florida anyway.
End of misery.
We all knew that Chester was taking a real risk when he bought two blocks of not so desirable houses, tore them down and built forty-two condos. We knew the market was getting over-built and it was time to make money in foreclosures. But Chester didn't care, he had some loans, formed a new company and took the plunge. He has had companies go belly-up before. There wasn't much of his money involved.
So the project crapped out last week. Two days later we jumped in a bought the whole thing from the bank at two dimes to the dollar. Today we finished selling it all to Mr. Wong for almost twice the price. Wong can fill it quickly with illegals -- I still don't know why everyone is so aginst them. They pay high prices to be left alone.
So, we make money.
Wong makes money
The illegals get a place to pile twelve people into three rooms
The bank loses a few bucks
Chester will have to find a different bank for his next venture. That should take him a month. He;s going to Florida anyway.
End of misery.
Sunday, June 3, 2007
Thursday night
It was Thursday night. The week was almost over. As we often do, Kevin and I go down to our place to rejoice because we have survived another week of the gruelling test of existence. We celebrated by alternating shots and pints in the tradition of our fathers and forefathers who came across from the Ol' Sod.
As the evening progressed we fell into loudly debating the authenticity of the noticeably well endowed bartender, a woman who is new to the place, and hence unfamiliar with our form of debate. But this woman was not the sort who was inclined to settle our argument with a simple demonstration, or any sort of "hands-on" research. Instead she went back and complained to her boss. Something about "unruly," or "immature."
So, her boss comes out, to tell us to shut-up. This is a big threat because the boss is Sully, who inherited the place from his grandfather. The same Sully who used to steal cases of Bud to celebrate out hockey victories. He is a fine gentleman, who runs an excellent establishment, and is a bigger drunk than we are.
So, the new bartender keeps her distance while we got into a discussion of how we wer all in Catholic school together in the fifth grade. We discussed the bets we used to place even then on what the nuns would look like naked. Which ones of them had a nice set, a who it was who would be playing with them.
At the time, we thought it was so funny. The very idea of the nuns doing anything sexual was so abusrd.
Of course, we now know, especially from out other friend, Michael, whose sister was a nun for twelve years, why so many of the teachers who were here one year were gone the next, while the priest got to stay on.
What do you really expect? Boys will be boy; men will be men,
Except for the perverts.
As the evening progressed we fell into loudly debating the authenticity of the noticeably well endowed bartender, a woman who is new to the place, and hence unfamiliar with our form of debate. But this woman was not the sort who was inclined to settle our argument with a simple demonstration, or any sort of "hands-on" research. Instead she went back and complained to her boss. Something about "unruly," or "immature."
So, her boss comes out, to tell us to shut-up. This is a big threat because the boss is Sully, who inherited the place from his grandfather. The same Sully who used to steal cases of Bud to celebrate out hockey victories. He is a fine gentleman, who runs an excellent establishment, and is a bigger drunk than we are.
So, the new bartender keeps her distance while we got into a discussion of how we wer all in Catholic school together in the fifth grade. We discussed the bets we used to place even then on what the nuns would look like naked. Which ones of them had a nice set, a who it was who would be playing with them.
At the time, we thought it was so funny. The very idea of the nuns doing anything sexual was so abusrd.
Of course, we now know, especially from out other friend, Michael, whose sister was a nun for twelve years, why so many of the teachers who were here one year were gone the next, while the priest got to stay on.
What do you really expect? Boys will be boy; men will be men,
Except for the perverts.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Close Call
Yesterday I almost killed some kid.
I was driving home, taking my time. It was finally a nice day again. The sun was warm, the leaves are green and the flowers are in bloom. On the sidewalk on my side of the street a woman was walking her dog. She was wearing shorts and a tee-shirt. I was driving along watching her ass bounce as the dog pulled her along.
Slowly, I drive passed her and slid down the window, but I decided not to say anything. I'm trying to learn some restraint. I would have waved if she looked over at me, but she didn't. So, I roll passed her and moved my glance to the passenger side mirror. I've got to tell you, I love women in tee-shrits and this one did not disappoint. Whoa I said out loud. Look at those!
Her nice melons wer bouncing for all it see, and I was one of the all.
Just then this kid pulls out his driveway on his bike, and I almost killed him or myself. I slammed on the brakes. The car swerved and just missed the kid on one side and a tree on the other. I saw his face and it looked like he thought he was dead.
I looked around for the woman who caused it all and she was nowhere to be seen. Gone.
I don't know if women who go out dressed like that are trying to kill people, or just get attention. I wonder if they are just stupid or unaware. If that kid ended up dead or in the hospital it would have been her fault and she wouldn't have even known about it.
I was driving home, taking my time. It was finally a nice day again. The sun was warm, the leaves are green and the flowers are in bloom. On the sidewalk on my side of the street a woman was walking her dog. She was wearing shorts and a tee-shirt. I was driving along watching her ass bounce as the dog pulled her along.
Slowly, I drive passed her and slid down the window, but I decided not to say anything. I'm trying to learn some restraint. I would have waved if she looked over at me, but she didn't. So, I roll passed her and moved my glance to the passenger side mirror. I've got to tell you, I love women in tee-shrits and this one did not disappoint. Whoa I said out loud. Look at those!
Her nice melons wer bouncing for all it see, and I was one of the all.
Just then this kid pulls out his driveway on his bike, and I almost killed him or myself. I slammed on the brakes. The car swerved and just missed the kid on one side and a tree on the other. I saw his face and it looked like he thought he was dead.
I looked around for the woman who caused it all and she was nowhere to be seen. Gone.
I don't know if women who go out dressed like that are trying to kill people, or just get attention. I wonder if they are just stupid or unaware. If that kid ended up dead or in the hospital it would have been her fault and she wouldn't have even known about it.
Monday, May 28, 2007
Long Weekend
I was gong to try to write something earlier but I had to pull the plug on the computer this weekend.
I had been thinking about his long holiday weekend for a while. I planned on opening up he big grill, getting out big steaks, and a couple of cases of beer. Then we'd invite the three sets of neighbors over, get the women drunk and see who would be the first to take off her top this year. It's a semi-annual event, Memorial Day and Labor Day. All three women have nice sets and are proud of themselves. They don't like to admit how much they enjoy showing it all off, so they have to get drunk. But it doesn't take much to get them drunk, so off we go.
But this year I had to pick up my thriteen year-old daughter for the weekend. Her mother, my first wife, the lovely but impossible Melissa, the one woman who really deserves to be called the one word that women most hate to be called, made it clear that this was my weekend with the product of our years of raging incompatibility, Lindsey.
Now, I love Lindsey. She is mine and I take responsibility for her, just as I do my older son, Paul, who is now in college and hardly speaks to me. But, as Lindsey has grown-up and her mother has poisoned her against me, and taught her that the reason there are men in the world is to use their charge-cards. I have tried to be calm and caring. It is often difficult.
This Friday, Lindsey jumped in the car, gave me a hug, asked if we can stop at the mall, and then got on the phone with her friends. This is the phone I had to buy and pay for, and put her on my plan, but have no control over. She sends me text messages ca couple of times a week to say "hi" but won't answer when I call.
Before we had gone five miles we were in a big fight because I wanted her to turn the damn thing off and talk to me. She wanted to meet her friends at the mall and spend more of my money to go shopping..
When we actually got home, two hours and $150 later, she was nice to her younger sister Chelsea, but snotty to Tammy, my now wife, who always tries to be good to her. Then she jumped on my computer and began IMing all her friends who she had just seen about how all the money I spent wasn't really enough.
So I pulled the plug.
Then I sat on the deck and just drank my beer. If we all got started on our Memorial Day sport and her mother found out, I would be in court by Wednesday.
I had been thinking about his long holiday weekend for a while. I planned on opening up he big grill, getting out big steaks, and a couple of cases of beer. Then we'd invite the three sets of neighbors over, get the women drunk and see who would be the first to take off her top this year. It's a semi-annual event, Memorial Day and Labor Day. All three women have nice sets and are proud of themselves. They don't like to admit how much they enjoy showing it all off, so they have to get drunk. But it doesn't take much to get them drunk, so off we go.
But this year I had to pick up my thriteen year-old daughter for the weekend. Her mother, my first wife, the lovely but impossible Melissa, the one woman who really deserves to be called the one word that women most hate to be called, made it clear that this was my weekend with the product of our years of raging incompatibility, Lindsey.
Now, I love Lindsey. She is mine and I take responsibility for her, just as I do my older son, Paul, who is now in college and hardly speaks to me. But, as Lindsey has grown-up and her mother has poisoned her against me, and taught her that the reason there are men in the world is to use their charge-cards. I have tried to be calm and caring. It is often difficult.
This Friday, Lindsey jumped in the car, gave me a hug, asked if we can stop at the mall, and then got on the phone with her friends. This is the phone I had to buy and pay for, and put her on my plan, but have no control over. She sends me text messages ca couple of times a week to say "hi" but won't answer when I call.
Before we had gone five miles we were in a big fight because I wanted her to turn the damn thing off and talk to me. She wanted to meet her friends at the mall and spend more of my money to go shopping..
When we actually got home, two hours and $150 later, she was nice to her younger sister Chelsea, but snotty to Tammy, my now wife, who always tries to be good to her. Then she jumped on my computer and began IMing all her friends who she had just seen about how all the money I spent wasn't really enough.
So I pulled the plug.
Then I sat on the deck and just drank my beer. If we all got started on our Memorial Day sport and her mother found out, I would be in court by Wednesday.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
play time
It was a pretty nice today so I decided to do my work on the golf course. I had gotten a call from a guy who is part of the planning for our 25th H.S. reunion, so I called him back and he arranged for a couple of other guys to meet me at my club.
I was cool in H.S. and people never get over that. I was on the hockey team, which was the glamour sport back then. Because of that the teachers let me slide on homework and the girls let me slide my hands across their chests. It worked for me. All of these guys wanted to be like me and the few friends I hung around with, and they still do.
So, even though I haven't seen any of these guys for five or ten years I had them out to the club. I paid for a round of golf and a few rounds of drinks. I showed them how to flirt with the bartender, who is hot, and again they were jealous.
By the time I was driving home to my happy house I had dropped about $500 on them, but made about $12,000 on deals, loans and referrals, with more to come. I've got that aura, you know, people want to be around me. I pay for the drinks, they pay for my life. It works for me.
I was cool in H.S. and people never get over that. I was on the hockey team, which was the glamour sport back then. Because of that the teachers let me slide on homework and the girls let me slide my hands across their chests. It worked for me. All of these guys wanted to be like me and the few friends I hung around with, and they still do.
So, even though I haven't seen any of these guys for five or ten years I had them out to the club. I paid for a round of golf and a few rounds of drinks. I showed them how to flirt with the bartender, who is hot, and again they were jealous.
By the time I was driving home to my happy house I had dropped about $500 on them, but made about $12,000 on deals, loans and referrals, with more to come. I've got that aura, you know, people want to be around me. I pay for the drinks, they pay for my life. It works for me.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Wolfowitz
I read the news. I have to keep up. I have to know what Bernake is thinking because interest rates really can change how we do business. There are always ways to do business, but we have to know what the prevailing conditions are.
But I've been reading about Paul Wolfowitz and how dumb he was. He is supposed to be so smart that our government believed him and we went marching off to war to do good and get rid of evil. Yes, we are getting screwed, and getting our asses handed to us by a bunch of crazies running around in the desert, in a place we should never be and a culture we don't understand. So, that was all partly his fault. Not so smart.
Now he has not only screwed up the world but he has screwed himself, and for a really stupid reason: over some woman.
He's a powerful guy, sixty-four years old, and he still gets himself wrapped up by the inviting promise of a little nookie. How good can she be that she got him to throw his career in the toilet?
I can imagine the conversation. Riza tells him, look Paul, I'm a Muslim and I should be all covered up. No one should see these tities except my husband, the other women in the harem and maybe the unic. Expecially not you -- you're a Jew! So if you want to play with these golden globes you are going to have to pay big and set me up for life.
And the asshole went and did it.
I remember my first wife giving me this kind of shit. I dumped her ass a long time ago.
Of course, I'm still paying, but it hasn't cost me my job.
But I've been reading about Paul Wolfowitz and how dumb he was. He is supposed to be so smart that our government believed him and we went marching off to war to do good and get rid of evil. Yes, we are getting screwed, and getting our asses handed to us by a bunch of crazies running around in the desert, in a place we should never be and a culture we don't understand. So, that was all partly his fault. Not so smart.
Now he has not only screwed up the world but he has screwed himself, and for a really stupid reason: over some woman.
He's a powerful guy, sixty-four years old, and he still gets himself wrapped up by the inviting promise of a little nookie. How good can she be that she got him to throw his career in the toilet?
I can imagine the conversation. Riza tells him, look Paul, I'm a Muslim and I should be all covered up. No one should see these tities except my husband, the other women in the harem and maybe the unic. Expecially not you -- you're a Jew! So if you want to play with these golden globes you are going to have to pay big and set me up for life.
And the asshole went and did it.
I remember my first wife giving me this kind of shit. I dumped her ass a long time ago.
Of course, I'm still paying, but it hasn't cost me my job.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Call from my brother
My brother called yesterday. he wanted to know if I called my mother last week for Mother's Day. Of course I did. He just wanted to act like a guy in charge. He has always tried to do that. He's an asshole, and always has been.
My brother is the star of my mother's life, even though he's a phoney and a bum. He's back living with my motheer now that his porn-video store has been crushed by the Internet.
He was always smart but lazy. He did well in school until he had to study and then he cheated. He got through college that way too. He was charming and a blow-hard and could fool people for a while, but eventually they all got sick of him.
He was supposed to go to medical school but he crashed his car in his junior year and had to leave college. It was really a lot of shit. I think he was failing his chemistry course and couldn't tell my mother. That's when Patti realized he was a bum, so she left him. She came to tell me why she was finsihed with him, and I told her how much better I was than him anyway. She took me up on it and we had a thing for that whole summer. it was great. I was just starting college and she was just finishing. We were both working down at The Cape and screwing in all these great places.
My asshole brother never forgave me for that. He still yells at me about it.
If he doesn't I remind him.
My brother is the star of my mother's life, even though he's a phoney and a bum. He's back living with my motheer now that his porn-video store has been crushed by the Internet.
He was always smart but lazy. He did well in school until he had to study and then he cheated. He got through college that way too. He was charming and a blow-hard and could fool people for a while, but eventually they all got sick of him.
He was supposed to go to medical school but he crashed his car in his junior year and had to leave college. It was really a lot of shit. I think he was failing his chemistry course and couldn't tell my mother. That's when Patti realized he was a bum, so she left him. She came to tell me why she was finsihed with him, and I told her how much better I was than him anyway. She took me up on it and we had a thing for that whole summer. it was great. I was just starting college and she was just finishing. We were both working down at The Cape and screwing in all these great places.
My asshole brother never forgave me for that. He still yells at me about it.
If he doesn't I remind him.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
today
What did I think about today?
Today I got upset because Allen, the guy I work with, is an idiot. Allen actually works FOR me because this is our family business. I realize that he has been here ten years longer than me, so it gives him some standing, but still, the decisions he makes drive me nuts. He's an idiot and maybe a racist.
We build, sell and finance condos. We have three sets of them for sale now. A nice Black couple comes to look at a few, and they seem interested. She was a real babe. Her body was big and round like those great Black women get to be. None of that skinny, skinny stick look that some white chics cultivate.
Anyway, Allen sits with them and runs the numbers and tells them that they don't qualify for enough money.
I couldn't beleive it! That schmuck sent away business. They were here, they were interested.
I don't think it's legal to send away any minorities. If they want to buy we are supposed to find a way for them to buy. There is always a way to get money, even now when everyone is getting angry at mortgage people. We are being blamed because people want houses or condos. I think we should find a way. They want a place of their own. We need to sell them. What's wrong with that?
Suddenly, Allen is into saying it's not" ethical". He's the one who sold the place to the pimp.
Today I got upset because Allen, the guy I work with, is an idiot. Allen actually works FOR me because this is our family business. I realize that he has been here ten years longer than me, so it gives him some standing, but still, the decisions he makes drive me nuts. He's an idiot and maybe a racist.
We build, sell and finance condos. We have three sets of them for sale now. A nice Black couple comes to look at a few, and they seem interested. She was a real babe. Her body was big and round like those great Black women get to be. None of that skinny, skinny stick look that some white chics cultivate.
Anyway, Allen sits with them and runs the numbers and tells them that they don't qualify for enough money.
I couldn't beleive it! That schmuck sent away business. They were here, they were interested.
I don't think it's legal to send away any minorities. If they want to buy we are supposed to find a way for them to buy. There is always a way to get money, even now when everyone is getting angry at mortgage people. We are being blamed because people want houses or condos. I think we should find a way. They want a place of their own. We need to sell them. What's wrong with that?
Suddenly, Allen is into saying it's not" ethical". He's the one who sold the place to the pimp.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
How come?
People who know me would certainly ask -- "Hey, Guy, how come you are writing a blog? What the hell are you doing? What would you have to say?"
These are good questions. I am writing to find out the answers. Acutally, I am writing becasue my wife, let's call her Tammy, has a blog. Her blog is all about her spiritual journey, and how she has found meaning in her life. She is the one who told me to open up my mind and my heart and see where it leads me.
So, I've been thinking about what she said, and what I decided is that it would be best if she never read what goes on in my mind and heart. The first thing that came to my mind was something that would get us into a fight pretty quickly.
But the idea of writing a blog intrigued me. I wondered what it is I might say. So, I will give it a shot. I can't imagine writting every day like Tammy does. She goes on about our wonderful daughter and the sky and the flowers, and all the stuff she puts in her scapbook. She doesn't mention the great sex we have -- See, she be mad that I did, but to me, it's important.
I also don't know who the hell would read this blog. But there must be all kinds of people out there because Tammy has a whole bunch of people she now talks to on the computer about how we are all part of one great spirit.
If any of you want to comment on whatever it is that I am going to say. Fine. But I can't imagine that I will answer you, or respond, or read your stuff. But don't let that stop you, if you are so moved. I will read it if you say it.
So, tune in next time and we will both see what I have to say.
These are good questions. I am writing to find out the answers. Acutally, I am writing becasue my wife, let's call her Tammy, has a blog. Her blog is all about her spiritual journey, and how she has found meaning in her life. She is the one who told me to open up my mind and my heart and see where it leads me.
So, I've been thinking about what she said, and what I decided is that it would be best if she never read what goes on in my mind and heart. The first thing that came to my mind was something that would get us into a fight pretty quickly.
But the idea of writing a blog intrigued me. I wondered what it is I might say. So, I will give it a shot. I can't imagine writting every day like Tammy does. She goes on about our wonderful daughter and the sky and the flowers, and all the stuff she puts in her scapbook. She doesn't mention the great sex we have -- See, she be mad that I did, but to me, it's important.
I also don't know who the hell would read this blog. But there must be all kinds of people out there because Tammy has a whole bunch of people she now talks to on the computer about how we are all part of one great spirit.
If any of you want to comment on whatever it is that I am going to say. Fine. But I can't imagine that I will answer you, or respond, or read your stuff. But don't let that stop you, if you are so moved. I will read it if you say it.
So, tune in next time and we will both see what I have to say.
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