What has MySpace done to friendships? Really? Has it made people tighter? Has it shown the true colors of your friends and where you stand with them? Is it no longer enough to let a friendship dissolve over time or now do we do the ritual of deleting them from our friends list. Twice I have been deleted from someone’s friends list. The first one I regarded as no great loss as she was never a real friend to me anyhow. I thought at her core she had a good heart however I never really felt like her friend. So yeah no real tears there, some general mockery yes, tears no (i did appreciate her actions when my mom died). The second I am not real sure about, but again it is their choice. Not the end of my world in any way, shape, form or fashion. Honestly it was the childish nature of the whole ritual to begin with. I don’t like you, slap, run away. Huh. So at 31 this is how the disintegration of friendships happens? Hidden behind the glow of a computer screen, safe from sharp words and an indifferent smile, we bow out of relationships. We write our petty threats and declarations on bathroom walls or chat rooms. In the end we roll back the clock of our maturity to the 5th grade. We validate our worth by 8 html place holders. Rocking.

Sure I have had some fun here, dumped some thoughts here, maybe I will write a book about it here. I have witnessed great feats of generosity and great displays of stupidity. I have seen Photoshop work that demanded that I hit the refresh button repeatedly while I wait for the next installment of Benny and I in Underworld. I have seen the rise of the WLM and to good work we did. I wish we still did it. However instead we are surrounded by petty divides and back stabbing rumors and judgments that countless bad breakups and shitty remarks have left behind. Back in the day friends stuck together, they fought side by side; a slap against one was a slap against all. We gnawed at our fingers and pressed blood against blood and declared to stand by one another. Now we send friends request to on another and delete them when they post too many survey bulletins. Friendship rocks. Not to say that I do not have some awesome fucking friends that I would go to the line for. God knows I do, I have friends of great integrity, creativity and soul. I have friends I love even though I do not see. I have friends far away, close by. I have friends I would gladly take a bullet for. I have friends that I would grin and stand back to back with in a bar fight. I have friends that I used to love and still respect. I have friends that I miss so much my heart hurts and my knots rise in my throat. I have friends that I can laugh till I pee with. Not one of them was made on MySpace, Friendster, Facebook…  each one was made in my heart without the HTML placeholders or the glitter graphics. So when you think that you are deleting a friend, you are removing them from your life just know that your delete button is not connected to their heart. And with that my friends, I start my eventual move to delete this blasted thing. Life is in the world not the WWW.

 

2 plane trips, 4 take off- 4 landings, 2 business meetings, 1 Niagara falls, 4 Klonopin, 1 dog in a mud puddle, 2 lord of the rings, sleep number is a 30, alisyns is 5, 1 phone number on a wet wipe, 1 land of northern aggression, 1 trashy woman, 1 bitch woman, 1 long tall super model pharmaceuticals sales rep, 29 degrees the average temperature in Rochester NY- 12, the number of hours of sleep required to recover from it all.

So Eddie Izzard has announced his US Tour dates... see below. I think DC or Atlanta is our best bet. I have friends in both places. If anyone wants to road trip it hollar.

April 28 - 30: Boston
May 1 & 2: Washington DC
May 5 & 7: Philadelphia
May 9: Cincinnati
May 10: Indianapolis
May 13: Columbus
May 15 & 17: Chicago
May 20: Detroit
May 21 & 22: Pittsburgh
May 23 & 24: Cleveland
May 27 & 28: Minneapolis
May 30: St. Louis
May 31: Kansas City
June 3: Memphis
June 5: Dallas
June 6 - 8: Austin
June 10 & 11: Houston
June 13 & 14: Miami
June 17 & 18: Tampa
June 20: Nashville
June 24 & 25: Atlanta
June 27: New York City
July 11 & 12: Seattle
July 15: Portland
July 17 - 19: San Francisco
July 22 & 23: Phoenix
July 29: Denver
July 30: Denver
August 1 & 2: San Diego
August 8 / 9: Los Angeles

so the big announcement... I have been given my own department at work. I am now product support manager. I will be managing tech support, break fix, client relations, the holy grail project (also known as course automation) and two unfortunate souls who get to call me boss. One of which I stole from another company and one I inherited. Basically I was given a blank check to build my own team and get the resources I need. Pretty fucking cool dude.. all the late nights, pressure headaches, missed parties etc.. have paid off for me. And the cool thing is a get to drag along a few people with me. W00t on me biotches!

Goals are going well. Diet has been going well. only worked out three times this week due to all the craziness. Speaking of, something HUGE is going down with work. However I can't tell anyone till it is official. Just to say all my hard working finally paying off. Rufus got micro chipped yesterday... he is up to 57 pounds. But its winter and we have not been doing our daily walks. Soon it will be warm enough to be back on the road daily. Over all life is pretty cool right now, the gf is good, dad is old but good.. job is hawt.. Nicole dying sucks ass, but I am dealing. All in all I am happy.

"Ruth Robeline... now there's a story. She is a twisted, trouble soul...... I have to tell you, when it comes to suffering, she's right up there with Elizabeth Taylor" - Truvey

"You are too twisted for color TV, Clairee! Have your roots done!!"
-Ouiser

"May you be in heaven half an hour before the devil knows you're dead".
-a drunk Irishman

She had a quiet, heavy presence. She was alone in the corner surveying the situation processing data like a human computer. She was intimidating. She had all the traits of a superhero on the cusp of going bad or vice versa. She had flair. Flair like tossing off a wig while facing down a horde of police officers, flair normally reserved for the brazen and bold. She had a quiet mystery like Brando sipping Brandy at a smoky, dimly lit bar.

And then she would laugh and all of the bravado, mystery and intensity would slide away and what was left as sweet, loving, and charming little girl who, just as much as anyone else, wanted to be loved. Her laughter is infectious, spreading through the room like a happy black plague. Your choice was to love her, no matter if you wanted to or not. She is and was, a teardrop waiting to fall. She is and was, laughter reverberating from the pit of your stomach, growing and aching. She was and is, a friend. My only regret was not keeping in touch like I should have.

May she find the peace and rest from the demons that tormented her. May her energy rise above the dull roar of this earth and touch the face of "God". No matter who or what that god may be, let her rest in the elusive peace she searched for so often.

Below is the official obituary and funeral information.

So for the last two hours I have been sucked into The History Channel. First, it was a show on end of the world- 2012 ect... now it is what would happen to earth if everyone disappeared. Blah blah blah... death death death... blah blah blah... I am getting coonskin cap and moving off the grid. Jebus H Christ on a hockey stick! The History Channel can scare the snot out of you. One thing that was really fucking freaky/interesting is what the www web bots have become. Apparently, these things started predict the future based on text that it has found on the internet.

Okay so now the life after human show just started talking about how all the dogs would die after humans. Therefore, I am going to go hug my dog and go to bed. In the morning, I am digging a cave and teaching my dog paw-to-paw combat. The end is near!

summery of tonights programming seen below.

So I have really taken any pictures since my mom died. Not sure why... but none that really mattered. These are the first since then.

















not bad after a year off.

By some odd event it is currently 2000 below zero outside with a wind chill of oh-for-fuck-sake-its-colder-than-a-whore-fighting-for-a-dollar!!!! Well I left the house this morning and headed home to Wilson to get my dads medicine and weekly supplies. Being that it's Wilson I have no choice but to go to my nemesis and mortal enemy Wal- Mart. I decide to walk Rufus before I head inside, and immediately I am reminded by the frozen ears and neck that I have made the dire mistake of leaving my scarf at home. Oh hell. It's fucking freezing and I have no hair. Brilliant. I toss Rufus back in the car and haul ass inside repeating my frozen mantra "holy fuck... holy fuck.. holy fuck.. balls... is that snow.. fucking cold...holy fuck". Fuck it I am Wal-mart I will buy a new one, I am going to be at my dads all day outside with the dog and I would like for my neck to not freeze and break the fuck off. Not to mention without a scarf wind goes down my back which makes me do the pee pee dance and really that is not very dignified for anyone.

So I head over to the little womens section to find a scarf. Silly, silly girl. All the scarves were either pink and fuzzy or just ugly. Not to mention pink and fuzzy is pretty fucking ugly. I head to the mens section, surely they must have something soft, fleecey and (merciful god please) in earth tones.

I search... and search. Packs of dogs and I hunted and there was no scarf. Well what the fuck? I finally ask a sales associate who works in the "gentleman's section", a rather attractive male- mid twenties, gold teeth, powder ridge around his neck, a thick layer of yellow tooth butter covering his grill and the faint smell of musty moth balls and those green Christmas trees that people hang in their cars wafted over him- I. am. so. turned. on.  Anyway, I ask this fine young thang if he could direct me to the mens scarves. To which he replied- and I quote- "mens donts wear scarfs". Insert several blinks and a blank stare here. What? Did he just say... nah... So I ask again. "Really sir where are the mens scarves?" Again his reply, "mens donts wear scarfs, you can only get them in the womens stuff- day ain't in the mens section". Huh... I did not know that.

In my mind I tried to replay all the times I have seen men wear a scarf. Unfortunately most the men I know are gay. So that throws off the natural balance of things. NO... Men do wear scarves.. I have a collection of Adams scarves and he is seriously straight. So it just Wilson men? Do the mullets keep their necks warm? Do the farmers summertime neck burns toughen them to the point of never needing neck warmth. What do they do? Do they rip wood from trees with their bare hands and shield themselves from the wind?

Dejected and confused, neck cold, I stumbled into the parking lot watching all the men that past in search of a scarf. None. Moral of the story... men who shop at Wal-mart in Wilson North Carolina- "don't wear scarfs". And as a result neither do lesbians from out of town.

it slipped away as quietly as she did. no torturous September that turned into a worse October that cumulated into a soul crushing December. all was as well as it could be. it came and without words to commiserate just the moments of text message "<3" and the such. that was more than enough. just morning on the back steps with cold brick under my feet with wood shacks and fields of flowers in my heart. 

if all goes well Adam will be the father of a new baby today. I am so happy for him, I just wish like hell mom could be here. I can hear her words float throught the air like smoke drifting down a hall. I can see her smile and see the wrinkles in the corner of her eyes as she would hold him. The hard lines of her fingers contrast the soft pink of new born skin. She would carry him around the room and tell him about how much trouble me and Adam were as kids. She would tell Adam how much she loved him and how proud she was of her little Adam Ant and then she would look at me pleadingly and say " I waaaaaaaaant one". Like a 6 year old she would pout and stick out her lip. Except she wont. And that hurts me. 

miss you so much. Happy birthday mom, hope are good wherever you are. I hope there is sun there... And water, waves and sunsets.

What Is Intelligence, Anyway?
Isaac Asimov

What is intelligence, anyway? When I was in the army, I received the kind of aptitude test that all soldiers took and, against a normal of 100, scored 160. No one at the base had ever seen a figure like that, and for two hours they made a big fuss over me. (It didn't mean anything. The next day I was still a buck private with KP - kitchen police - as my highest duty.)

All my life I've been registering scores like that, so that I have the complacent feeling that I'm highly intelligent, and I expect other people to think so too. Actually, though, don't such scores simply mean that I am very good at answering the type of academic questions that are considered worthy of answers by people who make up the intelligence tests - people with intellectual bents similar to mine?

For instance, I had an auto-repair man once, who, on these intelligence tests, could not possibly have scored more than 80, by my estimate. I always took it for granted that I was far more intelligent than he was. Yet, when anything went wrong with my car I hastened to him with it, watched him anxiously as he explored its vitals, and listened to his pronouncements as though they were divine oracles - and he always fixed my car.

Well, then, suppose my auto-repair man devised questions for an intelligence test. Or suppose a carpenter did, or a farmer, or, indeed, almost anyone but an academician. By every one of those tests, I'd prove myself a moron, and I'd be a moron, too. In a world where I could not use my academic training and my verbal talents but had to do something intricate or hard, working with my hands, I would do poorly. My intelligence, then, is not absolute but is a function of the society I live in and of the fact that a small subsection of that society has managed to foist itself on the rest as an arbiter of such matters.

Consider my auto-repair man, again. He had a habit of telling me jokes whenever he saw me. One time he raised his head from under the automobile hood to say: "Doc, a deaf-and-mute guy went into a hardware store to ask for some nails. He put two fingers together on the counter and made hammering motions with the other hand. The clerk brought him a hammer. He shook his head and pointed to the two fingers he was hammering. The clerk brought him nails. He picked out the sizes he wanted, and left. Well, doc, the next guy who came in was a blind man. He wanted scissors. How do you suppose he asked for them?"

Indulgently, I lifted by right hand and made scissoring motions with my first two fingers. Whereupon my auto-repair man laughed raucously and said, "Why, you dumb jerk, He used his voice and asked for them." Then he said smugly, "I've been trying that on all my customers today." "Did you catch many?" I asked. "Quite a few," he said, "but I knew for sure I'd catch you." "Why is that?" I asked. "Because you're so goddamned educated, doc, I knew you couldn't be very smart."

And I have an uneasy feeling he had something there.

I think my father has known this for years.

Okay so taking your dog for a walk on a night when every small child is dressed up like a small animal or something that would normally squeak when you squeeze it... never a good idea. One kid was was completely dressed in tin foil, Rufus just looked at him like he should chew through him to get to food. However I will give the kid props, no idea what he was but excellent use of tin foil and duct tape. I passed one little kid, maybe a little over a year old, dressed as a bee stopping to pick up acorns every three feet. Cutest thing I have ever seen! To Rufus it was the bee that stung him this summer. I passed the church to see kids getting a "hay ride". The hay ride consisted of a bale of hay thrown in the back of a wagon which was being pulled by a riding lawn mower. So sad. Every little girl was dressed like a ho. Not a doctor, witch, race car driver in the bunch- just future foxy lady strippers.

God, I miss Halloween as a kid. My mom would dress up as a fortune teller and go down to my school and read palms for the kids. She had a crystal ball and the whole deal. She as good too. Sometimes she would say that she saw water in their future and then spit in their palm. Well not really spit but you get the idea. She would dress me up every year till I became to old... then she would go out of her way to help me dress up. Borrowing bits and pieces from friends, doing my make up... Nov 9th is her birthday. I forgot it every year when she was alive. Funny the shit you think about when it is too late.