July 07, 2005
I supposed I ought not be too awfully surprised by anything I do right about now, but...
Still.
What da fuck's goin' on here? It's currently about 20 of 1 in the am, I have to work at 9am and I just got back from the store.Needed dog food. Now, I'm gonna feed the dogs, get more feed from the barn for the wabbits and woostas, prepare two stalls (ie: bedding, filling water buckets and distributing hay) in case it rains tomorrow and Eric has to put the horses in while I'm at work, then I've got one more load for the dryer and a few dishes and a few kitty-potties to pick, a floor to vacuum, then... I dunno. Something, probably. This, after I slept again after I got up at 5am. In other, less confusing, words... I got up at 5am, was up for a while, then went back to sleep til around noon, which, these days, is highly unusual for me.
But, I feel completely exhausted.
Or did. Now, I'm a little yawn-y, but otherwise fine.
I know I have to work, but I still wanna do alla this other shit. Why now, though?
Why not earlier? *sigh* Frick if I know. Maybe it's just PTSD from the events of the previous month, which shall evermore remain nameless.
Stupid month. I have no idea, but it's... a little unsettling, as in: How much further is it gonna go?, Why it is happening?, What is it that's happening?, Am I actually okay, or what? I still feel a little worn out in spite of all the sleep and I can't even find a comfortable place to set my mind, because the recent past sucks and the future is scary for now, so I keep just watching tapes of Nick@Nite with the Munsters-n-shit.
About every tenth thing I watch is The Stand, too. *several minutes later* Okay.
Ya wanna know how this whole episode feels?
Like a fall off a horse, before ya hit the ground. Usually, when I've fallen off for whatever reason, I've managed to get out a "shit" or a "aw, damn!" some time between becoming airborne and hittin' the dirt.
But...
this is like a never ending fall.
I've said every cuss word I know, made up a few new ones and still, I feel like I'm waiting, cringing, for the impact with the hard-assed, or completely muddy, ground.
Has to be one or the other.
Can't be dry sand or anything soft.
Not in MY life. 'Bout the only soft thing I ever land in is shit. If I have impacted the ground already, I don't really know it. Everything kinda hurts in a general sorta way anyway.
My heart, my mind, my body...
How would I know, ya know?
Without that tooth jarring thud? Did it already happen? God, I hope so.
I really do hope I'm waiting for nothing.
And, that I stop this soon.
It's tiring. Caught in the cross fire. Yeah, I am.
Again.
But, a totally different kind than I've ever been caught in before.
And, ya know what?
I know, somewhere deep inside, under all the fear, pain and (mostly silent) rage that this time is better than it ever was before.
This crossfire ain't so bad. I've been caught in worse. Still, I feel more than ever before that if I get "hit" by any of it and go down, if I fail for any reason, I'm gonna be fuckin' up worse than I ever have before.
'Cause if I fuck up this time, I'm gonna be hurting more than just myself.
That scares the hell outta me. It also motivates the hell outta me. But, I guess if I've learned one thing in this idiotic excuse for a life I've led, it's that God really doesn't give you more than you can really handle, even if you don't know or even think you can. I can't count the number of times my life has driven me to my knees, the number of times I've shrieked at God to just kill me like He's done damned near everybody I've ever loved, the number of times I've desperately wished for a "destruct" button somewhere on my person that I could basically hammer on. But, nooooooooo.
Can't have that, can we? 'Course not. I don't even know, except for the grace of God, how I've made it this long.
How the shit hasn't outright killed me is beyond me.
Lord knows it's hurt me enough to cause death.
You'd think, anyway. There've been times when it would have been nothing short of merciful to have killed me, it hurt so bad. But...
I survived. And, if I've survived all the previous bullshit, I can handle this, too. However, I'm reserving the right to wish for a time before I die when I don't hafta sweat some-damned-thing or another.
Kinda like a vaction.
Only one I'll ever hope to get, too. And, just to letcha's know...
I'm laughing at some of this as I type, here. And now, I'm gonna haul my butt out to the barn and get that shit done.
Then...
Feed the dogs.
Laundry.
Dishes.
Floor.
Work. Some plan, huh? Peace, y'all....
Posted by: Stevie at 01:17 AM | Comments (7) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
July 03, 2005
Since the test post worked...
I may as well letcha's know...
I've decided to go with the "head to toe black with the red tie and hair thingy". Women's clothes are HIDEOUS!Hideous, I tell you. They're not only fugly, they're also made of materials the likes of which I do NOT want touchin' me.
Crepe-type shit, itchy shit, stiff shit, HIDEOUS SHIT. Ugh. Bought a red tie and hair bow and that's that. Ah well.
That ensemble will go better with my Drakkar anyway, right? Night, y'all...
Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 11:21 PM | Comments (14) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
One thing I do know is to stop while I'm ahead...
Talked to Paul for four hours Friday night.
Feel tons better.
It really isn't "just me".
He said we'd handle that later. Well, I already dood it.
*grin* T'was easy and everything works, still, so... yay dat. However....
*frown* I still have this stupid Earthlink icon issue. See, back in February or whenever it was they "made" me do an update, I somehow managed to end up with two Earthlink icons in my tray near the clock, but only one is viable.
The other one, if ya mouse over it (by accident, mostly), it makes this little box come up and say "This "whatever" has performed an illegal function, yada, yada", then when ya go to get rid of that, it makes both icons disappear. Now, yer not necessarily tossed off-line when that happens, but it is rather annoying.
The only way to know when ya do get knocked off is when ya go to go to a new page and it says "It's been refused...", then ya know the connection's gone. You reconnect and viola. There they both are back again.
BUT, to do that, it makes you go into "Start, Programs, Earthlink, TotalAcess, bullshit..." Pain right in the left cajone, that shit is. Anyway, I've been fuckin' around with that for a coupla days and I just tried this one little manuver that almost coulda been tragic, if I had emptied the recycle bin, but I didn't, yay me. I got rid of that icon, alright.
Both if 'em, in fact and hadda restore what I'd deleted.
Wouldn't even try to connect without it.
*siiiigh* Anyway, I'm gonna let this go if it kills me.
I'm gonna let Paul have this one.
I can't git it. Man, I even looked around in regedit and msconfig and everything. Ain't accomplished shit with it.
So, hell widdit. I did manage to fix a coupla other things that were drivin' me bugshit, though, so it's all good. Meantime, I've gotta go to Wal-mart again.
I almost hate this, spending money on stupid shit, but... it is for work.
I'm hostessing again tomorrow and I need a new "female-type" shirt to wear.
Either that, or I'm just gonna get a red tie and red hair thing and go all black with the two splashes of red.
Head to toe black, polished Harley harness boots, black leather belt with a "hand-sized" Harley buckle with red and turquoise on it, hair done in the "some hair up, most hair down" style with a red thing holding it in place. Yeah, baby.
I like that. Hell, last night to hostess, I wore the black harness boots, black jeans, a hot pink strappy shirt, a man's black shirt (yup, that one) open over that and my hair like I described earlier, with a brownish clippy thing. Somebody wolf-whistled me when I walked in the back door wearing that. I didn't see who.
*blush/grin* They're gonna love this new idea.
I love black and red together.
Now, if it was just cold enough to wear my duster with that....
damn. Oh, and y'ain't gonna believe this....
Hell, I hardly do and I'm the one who did it. When I got home this morning at 5, instead of passing out, I did wash, cleaned the rabbit and roosters cages, took about a half a ton of trash to the dumpster and fed everybody with feathers, fur and two or four legs. That's the second time in recent memory I've gotten more done before 7am than I do some other whole days. Weird. Even weirder, the last time it was immediately after waking up, as opposed to this morning, which was more like a simple continuation of last night, really.
Not as hard to pull off.
Still... Now, I'm off to have a salad with the ceaser dressing we use at work.
I brought home a little bit of it.
I love that stuff. Friggin' munchies....
Posted by: Stevie at 03:56 PM | Comments (13) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
July 02, 2005
I knew it.
*sigh*
Actually, I knew this back on Wednesday.And, it explains my mini-melt down at work Thursday.
But, damn it... I don't need this right this second. Or ever, really. But, yeeessssss.....
It's coming.
My terrorist buddy is enroute to my two-four.
(Old cop parlance meaning "coming to where I am".) I can tell. Everything is wanting to make me cry and I really don't have time for this crap, ya know? Especially, I don't have the time to figure out the one thing that bugs me the most, brought to me by this visitor of mine, the wondering of what's gonna happen to me in the next few years or so when I "get old". I hate this shit. I don't like it anytime, but now it's way worse.
It scares me, chokes me up and fucks me up and I know it's all just a buncha pre-terrorist "strike" bullshit. I know that, but it doesn't help a bit. Hell, I also know I'll probably be okay no matter what, but that doesn't help a bit either. It's really a lot like my brain and emotions get hijacked by a trojan or something. One of those ones that reset your homepage to some other stupid shit than what you had and replaces all your bookmarks (ie: "happy thoughts" ) with links to various states of hell. Pure bullshit and I hate it, but seem to be pretty much helpless against it.
Nothing I do makes the slightest difference.
I think maybe that one thing I do makes it remotely bearable, but nothing makes it STOP. *bites back teeth* Anyway, I gotta go wash some dishes and such shit, then go to work.
11pm til 5am, hostessing. I'm in that "want the house clean before I leave" mode again.
That way, when I get home tomorrow, the whole day is mine.
To sit here and be taken over by this morbid horseshit...
*wonderful* Maybe not.
One thing I can say for this crap is that it doesn't last very long, thank God.
It's just very intense inside me when it is here. One breath at a time.
That's all I need to do right now. One breath at a time.
And no crying, damn it. Eyes?
You hear me talkin'?
Quit stinging and dry up already. I am NOT gonna die alone.
I'm gonna die FIRST. *I know that sounds weird, but it made me laugh (thru the tears that haven't actually fallen, thus don't count... yet)* deeeep breath Okay.
Gonna go wash the dishes.
Clean the kitty-potties.
Vacuum.
Get ready.
Go to work.
Be fine.
Come home. I think I can manage that much.
For now... Peace, y'all
Posted by: Stevie at 08:43 PM | Comments (13) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
July 01, 2005
Nuttin'....
I just wanted to see it say July.
ANYTHING but "June", ya know?
*slithers outta chair laughing again*
Posted by: Stevie at 10:44 AM | Comments (10) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
June 30, 2005
Dear month of June...
I hate you now.
You've pretty much sucked since the 9th and you just keep getting worse.Thank GOD ALMIGHTY, and I do, that you're gonna be dead and gone your own self in about 6 and a half hours. Rot in hell.
Bite me.
You sucked. Sincerely,
me P.S.
Dear July-
Don't even THINK about it.
Got it?
Good.
Posted by: Stevie at 05:40 PM | Comments (12) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
June 29, 2005
Wait a fuckin' minute....
Just hang on, here.
It's 9:30am, exactly.I finished the last post, clicked "save", then got the computer all tangled up and confused in Yahoo mail, shut it down and went to the bathroom. I get in there, pick up "Christine" and see "Birdtalk" in the magazine rack outta the corner of my eye.
I picked it up and read the address label about 40 times, trying to believe this.
"Wichita, Ks."
Yep.
They're from Terry, alright.
His handwriting on the post-it note stuck to the front, too. Shit. Then, I hear, almost as if it was spoken out loud, "You gonna let yourself be controlled like that, are ya?" Huh, what?
Controlled? Holy shit.
FUCK NO.
I ain't. I started thinking it through a bit more rationally and
1.) It's not like that's the only thing I have to talk about, that thing I can't discuss.
In fact, it may very well be that, after this one last post-to-draft (maybe) about it, I probably won't have much more to say about ANY of it ever again.
2.) I already have some really (odd, yet) cool news from last night, thanks to TVLand and the restaurant. (Now ya just gotta hear about that one, don'tcha's?)
3.) I can go right on over to Blogger and start up a new blog in about 7 seconds flat, IF it becomes necessary to "vent" about that particular subject more than once more.
4.) I WILL NOT ALLOW MYSELF TO BE CONTROLLED LIKE THAT. Or, AT ALL, thankyouverymuch.
5.) While it's true that I do indeed these days have a LOT to lose, not so much in that particular... situation. Besides, I'd never, ever lose what means the most to me by being honest, fer fuck's sake. "Those who matter don't mind..." and all.
6.) I'm not going ANYWHERE, damn it. No where that I don't freely CHOOSE to go, that is.
I LIKE Xfire, the page layout, the people who come by and come back, the MT aspects, everything. Just because I'm temporarily "gag-ordered" on one little thing (or it will be a "little thing" when I get done with me), doesn't mean I hafta give it all up. Nor does Terry's death mean that. He'd HATE that, if I let it happen. I know it. So, I won't. I still don't know yet whether I'm gonna do a "draft" post or go set up another place for it and anything else I may need to say later about it. All I do know is that I've lost a lot lately and I'm not gonna vountarily "lose" Xfire, too.
Means too much to me to do that. I might be gone a day or two, or not at all.
I don't know for sure, but, like I said, I already have some cool news. First off, instead of hostessing on Sunday mornings, I think I'm being switched to Saturday nights.
S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y NIGHT!!
Sorry for that "Bay City Rollers" moment, but it IS kinda cool.
Except for one thing, which I've already handled, hence the coolness... See, TVLand is having this "Movie of the Week" week and they're running all these cool old movies from the 70's and shit.
Liiiike "Boy in a Plastic Bubble", which I taped last night and "The Execution of Pvt. Slovik", which I also taped. On July 2nd, they're running "Helter Skelter". !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Helter Skelter???!! I've GOTTA re-tape THAT. Except, it's coming on Saturday night at 8pm.
It's AT LEAST a four hour movie without 800 commercials, so, that presents a problem, seeing how I won't be here after the first two or so hours.
Hmmmm....
What to do, what to do? *thinking to self*
"Wouldn't hafta sweat this if I had the damned thing on DVD..."
"OH! DVD'S!!!!" So, I got on the phone.
And...
found it. Right down the road, even. Got that AND the original "Odd Couple".
SCORE!!!!!!! I was floating, walking back to the car.
Floating, I was so happy.... I came outta the bathroom a little bit ago, with my ever s'much better attitude about most of this bullshit and stuck Helter Skelter in. Gawd, what an improvement over a 15 year old VHS tape.
I never knew that William Garretson, the caretaker they polygraphed, was sweating! The detail you can see is amazing. Oh, and the other really cool thing about Saturday nights is that I can still have my Fridays back and do the whole thing. It won't conflict.
Cool beans. Anyway, lotsa stuff sucks and I'm about outta gas, here, but... I'm not quitting.
Quitting... losing... same thing.
Done enough of that lately. Besides, I'm positively certain that Terry would hate that.
And, so would I. And, Dee?
You had something to do with this "epiphany" of mine, too.
Got your comment to "And... we're back" right after I posted last time.
So, thank you, too, Darlin'. Oh, and feel free to ramble on in any comments.
I'm gonna miss Terry like a sumbitch, if someone doesn't comment a lot.
Ya know?
(Well, actually... I'm gonna miss him mightily anyway, but an infestation of barely chirping crickets in my comments would only make it worse...) Back later.
Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 10:13 AM | Comments (15) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
That's it. I'm done with this now.
Just got an email from Craig Reynolds, Terry's brother.
Terry has passed away. Thank God I got to talk to him on the phone that (last) time (on the 11th) and I'll keep his picture and those bird magazines he sent me forever, but... It's seemed lately that he's who I was writing to as he was my most frequent and sometimes only commenter. Between this and a coupla other issues about "expressing myself" (more to the point... NOT expressing myself truthfully) that I've had lately, I just don't think I want to, or even CAN really, do this anymore. Half-truths, outright lies, people dying, high school bullshit... Jesus.This is EXACTLY what I was trying to escape in meatspace life.
Now, here it is again. June is a deadly month, ain't it?
Started with Storm, ending with this. How fitting. Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 08:36 AM | Comments (11) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
June 24, 2005
And... we're back.
No.
I didn't get to do it.
Jeez... (said with a small smile...) Italy. Wow, man. And, yeah, I was okay with it.
Not so much with a coupla other things, but... they were... understandable. Driving over, I was fine.
I think that had to do with what I was driving.
Besides just being careful, it was a BLAST driving that truck with it's big old growly motor and size. I was fine.
Til I walked in and saw the same pictures I have of her, then it hit me again.
Hard. Then, I saw her and...
Still can't comprehend it. I had a hard time with a few different things, but, overall... it was.... a funeral.
Can't say it was "good" or "okay", but it was good to see the members of the family- aunts, uncles, cousins- that I haven't seen for so long. Dad came outside and sat with me for a few while I smoked a cigarette.
Found out it wasn't a heart attack so much as heart failure for an unknown, as yet, cause.
It's gonna take a few weeks to find out the "why" of the situation. And, frankly, no matter what the cause, it was still WRONG that it happened to her.
There is no reason, no excuse, no explanation that will make this make sense. 'Course that can be said for more than one thing in my life, hey? Anyway.... I'm home.
The house is clean and "The Stand" is back on again. Oh! and yeah... damned near forgot.
Had a bit of kitty-drama happen before we left. Erica, the cat who in the past while giving birth has bitten me, jumped out windows and such rot, did it again.
Had another single kitten, yay her for keeping it to a minimum, but DAMN, the way this cat does this shit is unreal.
One kitten, right?
Not her first "litter", so no biggie, right?
Wrong. It was breech. She screamed her bloody head off.
Kept looking at ME, like there was much I could friggin' do, except start shaking like a palsy victim. She got it birthed (actually rather quickly) and they're both fine.
I, on the other hand, need psychiatric help (even MORE) now. Anybody want a cat?
Or 12? I'm willing to make deals, here.
Take one, get another free.
Free horsey rides with a kitten as a keepsake?
C'mon people.... cute little kiddens.... how many ya want?
Got one sittin' on my shoulder right now, in fact. Aw, da sweet widdle fing....
Think I'mina keep this one.
And, that one over there is my BABY.
Then, there's him.
Can't give him away.
Or her, or her, or him...
Ah, nevermind. I'll keep 'em all. Hell, I almost brought home a turtle I found in the middle of the road.
BUT, Eric was freakin' out, so I let him go in the pond next to the last house I lived in with Dad. (The turtle, not Eric.)
It was just a slider turtle, but Eric is... kinda *squinchy* about turtles for some odd reason. He says they have "snake heads".
*rolls eyes* Anyhoo... I got to save a turtle from becoming road pizza, so that was good.
Yeah, man.
Good thing I was in Jersey just then, huh? Jesus....
(*lol* at my own stupid self right now...) I am such a 'tard.
I know it.
I just don't care.
So, pppttttbbbbththtthth. On that bizzare frickin' note, I'm outta here for a bit.
Wanna go riding, but... ugh.
Wanna go swimming, but... ugh. Prolly wind up sittin' here veggin' in front of the TV.
Prolly ought to, too.
Feel like I've been on a carnival ride from hell the past coupla weeks. Oh, and in case anybody cares (God), I have had enough, now.
MORE than enough, okay?
I'd reeeeeally like to go back to my usual "living/flying under the radar" mode of operations again, IF it doesn't BOTHER anybody too much (God), okay? Thanks.
*rolling eyes again* Ah, well...
No matter what, in the words of the incomparable Jerry Garcia, "I will survive".
(But, I retain the right to get "sick of this shit already" at any time now...)
'Kay?
Good. In that case, I'm gone.
Back later. Peace, y'all.
Posted by: Stevie at 07:54 PM | Comments (7) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Leavin' for Jersey soon...
And, for some reason, I'm sitting here getting all pissed off at the DVD player, the DVD "Overboard", which incidentally, makes a GREAT frisbee and smoking two cigarettes at once.
I just got up, too. Went to bed before 10pm for that express purpose.Getting up early, I mean. Not the DVD discus Olympic Event. I'm just in "no mood".
As in: For this shit...
Meaning THIS shit. Not that. Not the Jersey deal...
Altho, if I could arrange it so NONE of us hadda do this, I would.
(Too much of Mr. King in my head, there....) Ahhhh... okay.
Hearing the "theme song" of "The Stand", a DVD that seems to know how to WORK, is calming me down...
(And, don't be lookin' at me. 60's & 70's music does that ever'time...) Tiny (ha!) change in plans, too.
George called me Wednesday night and said he does hafta work, sooooo....
Insteada him coming here and us all going together and me not driving and all that...
I'm using Bob's truck. The one I washed not long ago, then, after I had the back window (scraped) clean, he broke it out. *giggle*
I saw that and was like, "Daamn, Bob. Whaddya do, Dude? Couldn't actually SEE the window anymore and forgot it was there?"
And, yeah, that was pretty much what happened.
He had some kinda long poles or whatever in the bed, sitting on top of this huge box that's in there and when he hit the brake, they (the poles or whatever) went thru the window. He fixed it. Anyway, that's how we're getting there now.
A big maroon/burgandy deisel Ford p/u. It and the Firebird sound a LOT alike these days, but at least the truck is SUPPOSED to sound that way. Meanwhile, I got up early to do my "clean the house before I leave even tho I'm not gonna be here all damned day, but at least it'll be clean when I get home" shit.
What is that about, anyway?
I do this all the time, but I don't get it.
I don't know why. Fucked up, I guess.
(I guess? Shyeah, right. Try, "I KNOW"....) *coupla minutes later*
Ah man...
Yesterday at work, I was getting the idea that maybe I'm getting used to this idea about Adrienne now but the fact that Friday was creepin' up was still kinda cranking up the ol' nerve knob, ya know?
Then, last night, while we were doing our "honor ride" for her, it hit me that I think I'm getting used to this idea, yeah, but... when I get there today, it's gonna fuck me up all over again. It hasn't been really "real" yet to me. I mean...
I get it.
I know what they've told me and I understand what that means, but.... Somehow, I keep waiting to hear the next thing Adrienne has done.
Like when she had that car accident....
That freaked me right out and she was fine that time.
Then, a few days later, Dad had another chapter of the story for me. I'm waiting for the next chapter of this one, now. As if he's gonna call and tell me the next thing she's gonna be doing.
Or, that "she's okay" after this, like she was after that accident. Lord, I wish he could do that again. *another coupla minutes later*
Still no definite word on whether or not I'm gonna be allowed to be a pallbearer for her.
They had four when I asked and yesterday, when I talked to Dad from work, they have 6 now, but I told him to either bribe or lock in a closet one of the last two, because I really want to do this.
Or, find another one. I'll be number 7, damn it. Now, I understand completely what Andy Harris was doin' hanging out in the back, near the grandfather clock in the funeral home, at his Granddaddy's funeral.
Think that's where I'm gonna wind up, too.
In the back.
Quietly.
Away from everybody else. Ah hell.
At least it's what I'm used to, right? I have to be honest, even if now is not the time.
I DO have issues with this.
I want to do this.
And, if I can't...
Well....
That's that, then, huh? A rather definitive answer in and of itself.
Usually, I love definitive answers, but this time... I just want to do this.
Ya know? On the other hand, this ain't about me.
I know that.
(I'm kinda used to that, too... *sardonic grin*) Ya wanna know what I feel like?
I kinda feel like "Vivian's kid from a relationship prior to Dad" or that I'm only "blood related" to her somehow and that makes me... it makes me kinda like one of those "Untouchables" in India or something. I dunno. Fuck. The reality is what it is and has been forever. It's really alright, though.
It is what it is and I am what I am.
I'll go and I'll come back.
How hard is that? (How hard?
VERY.) Anyway, I've gotta go.
Got some shit that needs to get done and it ain't gunna do itself. Just want to letcha's know that y'all and about half the people I work with are gonna be there with me today, so thank you guys for that.
Eric will be too, so I won't be all alone. For that, I thank you.
Eric, I'll thank later with a huge hug.
Wish I could do the same with y'all. If you find yourself saying a prayer today, could ya include Adrienne in it for me... for her? Thank you, peace and I'll talk to ya's later...
Posted by: Stevie at 04:12 AM | Comments (7) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
June 20, 2005
Not yet....
Still can't quite wrap my mind around this one.
I've repeated it about 67 (million, if you count the times I've said it to myself, trying to understand it) times since I was told and... nope.
I hear me, I feel my mouth moving, but it's like it's somebody else saying it.
Can't be me.
And, if it HAS to be Adrienne, she can't really be that.
Right? Shit, man....
In all my life, never in my wildest, most insane imaginings, would I... could I have ever imagined this.
Why would I have? She was only 24.
She was fine. I called Dad today and asked if he thinks that maybe I could be a pallbearer for her.
God knows I've done it before. I think, so far, the hardest time was for Uncle Henry.
It took so long to do that walk. Yet, not long enough to say goodbye to that man...
I didn't carry him.
I escorted the horse team, walked by their heads, the whole route from the funeral parlor to the graveside.
Good God, I loved Henry Kroll.
I was proud to do that for him, to show my respect and love for the guy and to honor him like that. I'd like to do the same for Adrienne.
And Kim. And Dad. And Norm, though he's gonna be one already. Dear God, I hope they let me...
I hope the very idea doesn't just totally freak Kim out.
I hope she understands what my intentions are by asking. I know Dad does and so will Norman when he hears, but then again, those two "get" me completely.
They know me better than I do myself, let alone Kim, especially after the fractured relationship we've had for so long.
Which is why, if it does freak her out, or makes her even the slightest bit uncomfortable, I'll understand.
I can see how she could not "get" it....
But, Lord, I hope she does. (Trying to DirectConnect to my brother...)
(It's going thru, but I have no idea if he's even in the same place as his phone...) Meantime, my Bosses were wonderful about this.
Not knowing when anything was going on earlier today, they were more than willing to work with me and cover me if need be.
Gave me this coming up Sunday as hostess again, too, in case I did have to... not be there when scheduled. But...
It's Thursday night and Friday.
Found that out today when I called Dad. Not sure yet exactly what the plan is, but it involves George coming here to get us (Eric too) and I think he may be going to the veiwing Thursday night and then we're all going Friday.
Somehow, the idea of driving that far on that day for that reason is more than I can handle...
But, with Eric and George there, I should be just fine.
Especially if George is doing the driving. Ya know, every once in a while, it almost feels like I can grasp this, can believe it... almost.
Then, later on, it wops me upside the head again and just breaks my heart all over again. I feel so bad for them...
All of them, especially her. I keep getting these tinges of anger every once in a while, that she was so ROBBED like that, too. Two dozen may seem like a lot in a lot of respects, but not when it's the sum total of years a person gets to live. The strongest thing I feel, I guess is shock... I keep having this "How the FUCK did this happen? Whaddaya mean she's dead? How the hell did she DIE, fer Christ's sake?" thing in me.
It stops me in my tracks, too.
Here, at work, any time pretty much, that it socks me... Everything stops.
My mind.
Me.
The world. All I can think is "NO".
No way. Then, I hear Dad's voice in my head, saying it again and boom. "I have some bad news..." Yeah, I'll say he did.
Damn. But, this is so far beyond "bad news" that I don't even know what the word is for what this is.
Storm was "bad news".
Your car blowing up, getting fired, divorced... THAT'S "bad news". This is fuckin' insane. I mean... I know this shit happens to people, but...
it shouldn't.
Especially not to such a young person.
Such a good person.
She never did anything bad to anybody.
Not like some people I've known and I'm thinking of Rob's and Eric's exes and Charles Manson and "barely human" people like them. Adrienne wasn't that kinda person.
She was a GOOD kid.
Pretty.
Young.
Healthy.
Smart.
Sweet.
Giving.
A truly good hearted person. So, why? God forgive me, but why not one of the BC's, Charles Manson or one of the millions of people considering suicide or dying of some horrible, painful disease or something, someone who WANTS to be dead? Why her? I know nobody can answer that, but still...
I'm compelled to ask.
Over and over and over again.... Jesus. (10:07pm... Finally got hold of Norm. He's with Shawn and in an area where his reception isn't so good, but I did get to tell him what I asked Dad, so... I wanted him to know in case I can't do it that I want to. And, he said he's doing better than most people are and so is Dad. So far. Thank you, Lord.....)
Posted by: Stevie at 10:01 PM | Comments (9) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
June 19, 2005
It's Father's Day and my Dad just called me...
It wasn't about it being Father's Day, though.
My 24 year old step-sister died this morning of a heart attack in her bedroom... with her boyfriend there.He did CPR on her the entire time from when she collapsed til the rig got there, about 20 minutes. Then, the paramedics worked on her another 20 minutes to no avail. She was 24, slim, healthy, active, beautiful... and now she's gone.
She looked like a younger, prettier version of Julia Roberts, no shit, no lie. Damn. I didn't know her very well, for her having been in my life for 24 years. I do know she was a quality person, though. She was a good kid. I swear to God, I don't believe this shit. Adrienne dead....
Can't grasp that yet. Not even from a car accident or something "halfway normal", but a heart attack at the age of 24 with no warning signs, no behaviors that could've induced it that I know of, no nothing. The only other person I've ever even HEARD of to die of such a thing at such a young age is Karen Carpenter.
And, yeah, Adrienne was slender, but not anorexic... that I know of, or ever heard of or even thought. I knew her her whole life.
Her whole way too short life... Holy shit, man... I can remember when she was a baby. This one time, Dad and Kim had stopped by a local tavern to get boxes for moving and had her in the truck.
They had gone right behind the truck to actually get the boxes and in the space of those few seconds, Adrienne had locked both truck doors and was sitting smack in the middle of the seat, eating a cigar, totally ignoring Dad and Kim at each window, exhorting her to unlock the doors.
They wound up having to call me to bring them the spare set of keys.
And, yeah... she was still gnawing on that cigar when I got there, tobacco stuck all over her little face. Then, there was the time, again, as a toddler, she ate a whole container of butter... straight.
Ew, man. I still don't know how she managed that. I can also remember being up in a tree one day and Kim handed me up Adrienne, then took our picture. And, for as strange as it is to be making myself laugh thru tears at the shit she did, it's even weirder to me to be feeling this... whatever it is. I mean, it keeps landing on my heart like a boulder that she actually DIED this morning, yet, it's almost like it was someone else's family that this happened to.
Then, it hits me again... 24. Jesus. I feel so utterly horrible for Kim, my Dad and Norman the third.
A whole entire being/entity/light is gone from their lives. She was there with them every day, now she won't be anymore.
How bizzare.
How harsh. And, her poor boyfriend, Shawn.... my God, that poor kid.
I can't even imagine.... For all the people and "other species" best friends (meaning Storm and other assorted critters) that I've lost throughout my life, no one has ever just dropped in front of me. Sure, I've tried to save stranger's lives that didn't make it when I was in an ambulance squad way back when, but, hell, I didn't know those people and I felt shitty enough not being able to save them.
I can't begin to fathom it being someone I know and love and I tried and it didn't work... God, be with Shawn... and Kim and Dad and Norm. You're not supposed to outlive your kids. And, frankly, if anyone "shoulda" dropped, especially of a heart attack, I'm sorry, but it shoulda been me.
I'm the "old fart".
I'm the one with a bad heart history on both parental sides.
I'm the one who smokes everything that doesn't blow away.
I'm the one who's lived for what feels sometimes like forever. Not her. Jesus... *coupla minutes later* Well, look y'all... (wiping whole face)
Any prayers y'all want to say, say them for Kim, Dad and Norm, okay? I'm wiggin' out, yeah, but I'm also okay, especially compared to those guys.
I'll be okay. Them, I'm not so sure... So, give it all to them.
They need all the strength they can get, all of God's love that can be sent.
And, Adrienne... just let God know she's enroute.
Because she is. That much, I do know. "Adrienne died this morning..."
I'm still hearing that echoing in my brain and I still can't believe it.
I'm looking right at it in black and white and I still can't believe it. Why?
Why her?
Why now?
Why? Godspeed, little sister.
I am so sorry this had to happen to you....
and Kim and Dad and Norman.
Especially Kim.
Posted by: Stevie at 08:56 PM | Comments (10) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
June 18, 2005
This song made me cry earlier, for the first time ever...
T'was the second chorus and on that got me, too.
It seems like yesterdayBut it was long ago
Janey was lovely she was the queen of my nights
There in the darkness with the radio playing low
And the secrets that we shared
The mountains that we moved
Caught like a wildfire out of control
Til there was nothing left to burn and nothing left to prove And I remember what she said to me
How she swore that it never would end
I remember how she held me oh so tight
Wish I didn't know now what I didn't know then Against the wind
We were runnin' against the wind
We were young and strong, we were runnin'
Against the wind
The years rolled slowly past
And I found myself alone
Surrounded by strangers I thought were my friends
I found myself further and further from my home
And I guess I lost my way
There were oh so many roads
I was living to run and running to live
Never worried about paying or even how much I owed Moving eight miles a minute for months at a time
Breaking all of the rules that would bend
I began to find myself searching
Searching for shelter again and again
Against the wind
A little something against the wind
I found myself seeking shelter against the wind Well those drifter's days are past me now
I've got so much more to think about
Deadlines and commitments
What to leave in, what to leave out Against the wind
I'm still runnin' against the wind
I'm older now but still runnin' against the wind
Well I'm older now and still runnin'
Against the wind
Against the wind
Against the wind
Still runnin'
I'm still runnin' against the wind
I'm still runnin'
I'm still runnin' against the wind
Still runnin'
Runnin' against the wind
Runnin' against the wind
See the young man run
Watch the young man run
Watch the young man runnin'
He'll be runnin' against the wind
Let the cowboys ride
Let the cowboys ride
They'll be ridin' against the wind
Against the wind ... Now, this one is playing on a loop tape in my brain... When I think of those East End lights
Muggy nights,
The curtains drawn in the little room downsairs.
Prima Donna lord you really should have been there,
Sitting like a princess perched in her electric chair.
And it's one more beer,
And I don't hear you anymore.
We've all gone crazy lately,
My friend's out there,
Rolling 'round the basement floor. (Chorus)
And someone saved my life tonight, sugar bear.
You almost had your hooks in me
Didn't you dear
You nearly had me roped and tied,
Altar bound, hypnotized,
Sweet freedom whispered in my ear
You're a butterfly,
And butterflies are free to fly,
Fly away, high away bye bye. I never realized the passing hours
Of evening showers,
A slip noose hanging in my darkest dreams.
I'm strangled by your haunted social scene
Just a pawn out-played by a dominating queen.
It's four-o-clock in the morning
Damn it!
Listen to me good.
I'm sleeping with myself tonight
Saved in time, thank God my music is still alive. Chorus And I would have walked head on
Into the deep end of the river,
Clinging to your stocks and bonds
Paying your H.P. demands forever.
They're coming in the morning
With a truck to take me home Someone saved my life tonight
Someone saved my life tonight
Someone saved my life tonight
Someone saved my life tonight
Someone saved my life tonight
So save your strength
And run the field you play alone. Chorus Someone saved my life tonight
Someone saved my life tonight
Someone saved my life tonight
Someone saved my life tonight
Someone saved my life tonight And, it's true. I think I need to find my headphones, my (PF, The) Wall CD and play the whole damned thing, volume maxed.
Twice, even.
Or something... And, to answer the question I know you're asking yourself...
I have no idea what's wrong with me.
I only know it's not depression, not like it was before, anyway.
Overall, I'm fine and I'll BE fine. I used to be all freaked out and emotional because I always felt all alone, cornered, back to the wall and didn't know what to do.
This time, it's more of a "balls to the wall" kinda thing, as in: that's the mode I need to be in to make everything work like we need it to. I DO know what to do, I know I'm not alone and the proof of that is what's got me all emotional and freaked out. So, it really is a different kinda freaked out, but it's still freaked out and I wish I could get a frickin' grip already. I really am trying really hard to do the right things in the right ways and it's obviously obvious because people see it and are right there, willing to help me, without even feeling a need to put their two cents in, which is highly unusual, but nice. But, WHY is THAT making me all teary and goofy? Every single thing that's come up that's been "not s'hot" has been handled... smacked down and rectified, if I may say it like it feels. So far, so good. But...
I was still on my knees from the past coupla weeks, financially speaking (and maybe emotionally too, a little... I am exhausted), but now... I'm up. I was stood back up on my feet, dusted off and steadied by someone who owes me NOTHING, in fact, I owe this person more friggin' money than I can ever hope to repay, yet they did it again. I understand allll about how feeling like life or people are being "mean" could make ya a candidate for emotional rescue, but how is that things working out and people helping you can have the same effect, even if it is somehow kinda different? Am I making any sense at all?
Prolly not. One hundred, thirty dollars, three packs of smokes and a sympathetic ear...
Made all the difference in the world, even if it does look like the same old reaction... Well, I am something, even if I don't know what word to use first... humbled, grateful, awed, relieved, determined, tired, happier, more aware of just everything... I'm alla those things at once and then some. And wet.
Tired of being WET faced all the time, here, over things I don't know are gonna cause that til they do.
Like Bob Seegar.
And, (God help me) hearing that stupid song "Ben", about the farkin' RAT, the other night. THAT silliness made me cry about Storm... The part where Mike sings, "Ben, the two of us need look no more. We both found what we've been looking for..."
See? It's doing it again... Hell, I thought we'd both found what we'd been looking for. Me, a great horse and him, a great home.
Guess I was wrong, or God just figured Brandy needed me more than Storm did or some damned thing, but, fuck me runnin', I still hurt over him. BUT... that is truly the only "bad/downer" thing there is... (and how bad can that even be with her out there now?)
Every other time I lose it, it's because of... random acts of utter kindness, which is NUTSO to do, right? *several minutes later* Ah well... lem'me take this opportunity to publicly, loudly and with profound humility say thank you again, God, for Eric, George, my job, Brandy, Action, every other creature You've seen fit to have me care for for You, my life, my twisted, humor-in-any-situation-finding brain and mostly You, Yourself. Thank you for never giving up on me, even when I did, myself. Thank you for everything and please help me to continue to be the kind of person who might just actually deserved all these blessings, if indeed I am that these days. (And, can Ya maybe give me a hand with the constant wetness before my face gets all pruny or tearstained? Thanks again again...) And, thank alla you guys, too....
I don't know where I'd be right now if not for this... blogging... and y'all.
Scares me to think of it. So... I won't. Gonna go do a load of wash, watch a movie and I'll do the Pink Floyd thing tomorrow morning, before I go "hostess". And, Happy Birthday, Baby.
Can't wait til the year I can do it up like you deserve and I wanna do. Meantime, I do love you....
Posted by: Stevie at 09:23 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Hurt... myself... laughing....
I found this shit last night.
A couple of them, especially the "restaurant" ones, made me laugh.
Ohmigawd, lawyers can be so retarded! By the time I got done reading these three, right in a row, I was literally crying from laughing so hard. Hell, I still need to blow my nose again...
* Lawyer: "Did he pick the dog up by the ears?"
* Witness: "No."
* Lawyer: "What was he doing with the dog's ears?"
* Witness: "Picking them up in the air."
* Lawyer: "Where was the dog at this time?"
* Witness: "Attached to the ears." * Lawyer: "When he went, had you gone and had she, if she wanted to and were able, for the time being excluding all the restraints on her not to go, gone also, would he have brought you, meaning you and she, with him to the station?"
* Other Lawyer: "Objection. That question should be taken out and shot." * Lawyer: "And lastly, Gary, all your responses must be oral. Ok? What school do you go to?"
* Witness: "Oral."
* Lawyer: "How old are you?"
* Witness: "Oral." Priceless, this stuff is priceless.
'Specially to me, after the seemingly endless emotional crunch around here lately.
I needed a blowout, big time.
Thank God (and I do) that it was laughter. I can't wait to go see what other comedic gems are waitin' over there.
Posted by: Stevie at 01:09 PM | Comments (10) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
June 17, 2005
I know Californians are a little "mentally relaxed", but hell, even I know this answer...
It goes 1, 2, 3, 4 then 5.Sheesh, y'all....
Posted by: Stevie at 05:15 PM | Comments (7) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Not so much "rationalizing", as agreeing... so far.
Okay, now that I'm not cross-eyed tired anymore, lem'me 'splain a little better what's goin' on here.
We're kinda on the fence about a third horse again, to begin with.It was a huge pain right in the ass before, when Eric and I wanted to go riding, beause Jessie would just pace and scream his fool head off the whole time he was alone.
Taking him with us, ponying him... ugh. Storm was the only one who'd do it. Action was an ass about it, so guess who got stuck dealing with him?
Me.
Not that that was so hard, he behaved and all, but when yer wantin' to go ride and relax and just be a sack of potatoes up there, it's a mess trying to keep an extra horse straight.
Not very relaxing at all. Then, there's the pasture.
Big ol' thing, except almost half of the actual ground it consists of is a pond. And a large-assed hill.
Not the most grassy thing I've ever seen, but it supports two horses, the goat and the 9 thousand pound pig pretty well.
But... three horses DO strain it to the nth degree, meaning we having to supplement with hay, lots of hay, which is better saved for winter-n-shit (once it's mowed, I mean). AND, we don't "buy" hay.
Think about that.
We feed hay, but don't have to buy it... so, not putting unnecessary strain on the benefactor of that deal is probably the smarter thing to do. Which dovetails into my next reason for this, for now.
Money and the current "less thereof". I'm nervous enough wondering if this is all gonna work out without adding too much more to the load, ya know? And, even if we don't hafta spend as much feeding in the summer, there are still other things horses need, which, God forbid, we couldn't get for them, because there's too many of them.
Remember, in September, I'm supposed to get my Friday's back (and if I can keep Sundays AND have my Fridays back, that's what I'm gonna do) and the shit around here involving hayrides starts (more money) and it'd be better to wait til closer to then... Then, there's her, the horse.
They're gonna have to trank her to truck her here.
She not only "doesn't trailer well", she trailers horribly.
Last time she was put in a trailer, she kicked it apart.
Time before that, she somehow managed to end up upside down, on 'er back in there.
That's kinda messing with us, too.
We don't want her hurt on our behalf. Plus, she's so fresh offa track...
Honestly, both of us are kinda... "hmmm" about that.
I believe "nervous" is the word.
*lol* *half an hour later* Just got off the phone with Brandy's ex-mom.
Wow.
Poor kid.
Took her new horse to his first show yesterday, was going over the first line of jumps and her saddle pad slipped.
Then, the saddle slipped.
Then SHE slipped.
Right offa the horse, mid-jump. Ow. She wound up with a mild concussion, scrapes, assorted sore spots and her first concern (whatta great kid) is for the horse and his "traumatic" first show experience. I know what she means, though.
With any horse, when they're doing something for the first time, if it can be as easy and calm as possible, that's good.
If ya make it a struggle, you nearly permanantly screw the horse up for doing whatever it was again, in the future.
First impressions and all... She's okay, though.
So's the new horse. And, she's gonna talk to the lady who owns Miracle/Cheyenne and tell her what's up.
Which, in a nutshell, is: We still want her, it's just gonna take a tad longer than we thought. Do-able.
Pain in the buttocks (the owner of this place can be), but do-able. "Sometimes ya need a little finesse... sometimes ya need a lot." Anybody got'ny finesse they can spare?
*rolls eyes, giggling* Meantime, she's thrilled to hear how well her baby girl is doing. Told her again to just pop out here any old time she wants, no "warning" phone call necessary because the worst she'll ever see is a slightly muddy horse (if she rolls and I don't get to groom her before they get here) or one who's needing the daily application of fly spray.
I'll never have anything to hide when it comes to how we take care of these critters.
Actually, the same can be said for alla my menagerie. Here's how much they like it...
This morning, one of the roosters was out of his cage.
Did he run off?
Nope.
Was hanging out near my car.
He let Eric catch him and put him into the outside cage, so that says something...
(Either that I take good care of my animals or that I have a retarded rooster...) Anyway... I need to run some Percogesic up to the restaurant, so I'm gonna go do that. Then, my "plans" include sitting around here, admiring this clean house (which I whipped thru yesterday when I got home from work), maybe wandering around out in the woods/fields/streams or maybe going riding. Need to do my nails, too, actually...
Already made cookies, last night. (White chocolate chip...) This is so cool...
I still have a hard time believing I'm still me and that this is really my life.
After 30-some years of nearly 100% pure shit, it's almost too much to comprehend that it seems to have changed so much. Awesome. Back later. Peace, y'all...
Posted by: Stevie at 11:17 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Okay, now the third horse is on "indefinite hold"...
Back and forth...
Baaaack and forth with this shit.
I gotta call in the a.m. and let them know. I'm not gonna go thru all the arguements, both pro and con, about this issue.
My head hurts already from this... *snerk* Suffice it to say, this- putting her on "hold"- feels right to do.
Beyond the reasons to do it, it feels right for right now. In other news... seems like Sunday hostessing might be something I'll be doing regularly, at least for a while.
This week, I'm literally "on the schedule" to do just that... hostess on Sunday again.
Yay! And, Brandy did great again tonight.
First, Eric rode her, with Rob on Action, then we went out, Eric on Action and me on Brandy.
She was lots quieter, lots calmer and just a good ride. We lucked out again.
Got a good 'un.
(Thank you, Lord...) Now, I've got Murph clinging to the front of my shirt, waiting for his popcorn to cool. I realize that sounds nuts and it probably is, but it makes sense to us.
Soon as he's "done" dorking around, I'm goin' to bed.
(Um, yeah. He just climbed INTO my shirt, ow the tiny, sharp lil claws, so, I may be here with him for longer than I thought.)
*sigh* Oh, joy... he came back out.
Took him over to the popcorn (he eats it on the top of his cage).
He looked at it and flew back onto my shoulder. So, I say again...
*sigh* This looney... when I laugh, he chuckles back.
He's got my giggle down pretty good, too.
Nutjob. Now, to get him into his cage so I can go to BED!
(He gives not shit one about this, btw...) Pray for me, people.
I need all the he'p I kin git... Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 12:48 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
June 15, 2005
Wanna do something good for an animal in a shelter?
Go here and click on the "Feed an Animal in Need" button.
It's real.
It works and I've done it myself, many times.
So do I.
Posted by: Stevie at 01:03 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Instant karma’s gonna get you...
(First verse is dedicated to the (lying asshole) accuser...)
Gonna knock you right on the head
You better get yourself together
Pretty soon you’re gonna be dead
What in the world you thinking of
Laughing in the face of love
What on earth you tryin’ to do
It’s up to you, yeah you
Instant karma’s gonna get you
Gonna look you right in the face
Better get yourself together darlin’
Join the human race (This is for the rest of the world...)
How in the world you gonna see
Laughin’ at fools like me
Who in the hell d’you think you are
A super star
Well, right you are Well we all shine on
Like the moon and the stars and the sun
Well we all shine on
Ev’ryone come on (And, ALLA this is for the people who STILL don't get it.)
Instant karma’s gonna get you
Gonna knock you off your feet
Better recognize your brothers
Ev’ryone you meet
Why in the world are we here
Surely not to live in pain and fear
Why on earth are you there
When you’re ev’rywhere
Come and get your share Well we all shine on
Like the moon and the stars and the sun
Yeah we all shine on
Come on and on and on on on...
Aw, did the poor widdle lying dickwad get what he truly deserved?
He can't understand why nobody believes him?!?
Is he HIGH? Yo, kid...
I don't know about anybody else, but I never believed a word you said, because it's been patently obvious from the first that your mother and the rest of your "people" are a buncha lying, opportunistic jerkoffs.
Your retarded mother sued some other high-falutin' corporation and got herself some "free money" and she tried it again.
Only, she used YOU as bait. Fuck, kid, listen up...
Mike had already been accused of (not proven to have done) this kinda shit before.
WHY IN THE NAME OF GOD DID YOUR MOTHER EVEN TAKE A CHANCE, if she's "loves you so much"?
HUH?
Answer me that, if you can say anything that's not an out-and-out lie. You got exactly what you deserved.
Not a goddamned thing.
In fact, Greedy-Boy, you got MORE than you deserved because you got close to Jackson and his MONEY in the first place. You didn't deserve it just because you had cancer, first off.
And, you proved just how much you didn't deserve his largess even more by how you turned on him.
So, consider yourself lucky, yet stupid, and stfu already. I honestly hope he sues the livin' FUCK outta you, your mom, the persecutor, everybody who fucks with him. He hasn't got enough issues to deal with, he needs other people's shit...
Yeah right. And, as for his career?
Pfft.
All he needs to do is open his mouth and sing and bust a few moves and he'll have me watching, just like always.
Motherfucker can dance, man.
That's all he needs to do. Just do what he was born to do. Oh, and Mikey... one other thing.
FUCK KIDS, and I don't mean that literally.
I mean, fuck 'em, to hell with them and their parents and just keep them AWAY FROM YOU.
You give the beggar dickheads enough, entertaining them.
You do NOT owe them your sanity, your life or one fuckin' DIME.
Get that through your head, already, will ya?
God. Kids suck.
And, what little sucking they don't manage to be pro's at, their parents take over.
Fuck them ALL, Michael.
Just like they try to do to you. Have your "zoo/farm", whatever it is.
Be a child yourself.
Twist yourself in endless knots because you still won't tell your useless, brutal, lying, abusive prick of a father to fuck off. (Send him to ME, by the way...)
That's all fine... all good. We all do some of that to some extent. But, I repeat...
FUCK THOSE KIDS, MAN.
Keep them away from you, your house and your life. You owe them NOTHING.
(If ya want the truth, YOU'RE the one who is "owed"... apologies out the asshole, for starters...) Recover, Mike.
Heal.
Hang with your own
Write some music.
Create some dance moves.
Then, show me and anybody else who cares.
We'll be here.
CHILDLESS, even. (I know I will be, anyway, thank God more times than I could ever say...)
That whole "King of Pop" shit was exactly that in the first place... shit.
Media hype.
Bullshit.
Same thing. You weren't/aren't/never can be the "King" of anything, because this ain't England, nor Canada.
What you are is an enormously talented, tortured soul who blows most other entertainers right offa the stage, out into the stratosphere. That's all ya need to be. You don't need to try to be a Messiah to a buncha stupid people, kids or adults.
Ya know?
No, I guess ya don't, or you'd not keep stepping into this 55 gallon drum of shit. Don't make me come out there to Neverland...
I'd probably wind up makin' you cry because I'd pull no punches to get through to you. You're a unique guy and God help me (suffer the judgemental assholes), I like you.
But, I did always think the strangest thing about you was this "kid crap". So, cut it out, huh?
Please, for fuck sake. Give alla that "everything" of yours to your own kids and remember...
Kids aren't worth what they or their for-shit parents will try to do to you. Especially other people's kids.
Hell, even people who HAVE kids often don't like other people's kids... think about that. Kids are not the "be all, end all" of human existance. (Altho, I will say that with the way todays kids are being raised, they may very well be the end of the human race. Buncha wusses....)
You must know that by now.
Right?
God, I hope so. Oh, and Mr. Persecutor-Man?
Ha ha, ho ho, chortle, chortle.
I am indeed laughing at you and your whole "profession".
You suck.
You suck as a human being, as does anyone who is a "punisher" by choice, by vocation.
Persecutors just suck.
Fact of life.
(Only exception (to prove this rule) is Vince Bugliosi. I like him because of his limitless intelligence, IN SPITE of the fact that he's another persecutor. Besides, he got that nutjob Manson (a real criminal, by the way, as opposed to MJ) locked up, which was amazing, considering the "evidence" he had to work with... proving conspiracy is the hardest thing to do. Vince is... one of a kind, obviously.)
You, Sneddon, also suck as a persecutor because YOU LOST, just like Clark and Darden... hahahahahaha!
You probably suck as a man, too.
I'll leave that to your wife to decide, if in fact, you did find some kinda toad to marry you, ew. In the meantime, the rest of whomever reads this...
Peace (Oh, and, for the record, I'm not the slightest bit pissed off, in fact, I'm friggin' THRILLED about this, so this isn't a "spittle-flecked, yadda, yadda, what-the-hell-ever". Okay?
Not pissed, just adamant.
SOME people need to learn the difference.
I'm just sayin'...)
(I mean, shit... how could I even begin to be pissed about anything when I've got that amazing horse out in the pasture, ya know?) Tiny update @ 11:43pm...
Oh. My. Frickin'. GAWD!
Take a look at this TYPICAL (idiotic) WOMAN.
I swear, between Rob's "nekkid Ted Kennedy" shit and this, I'm gonna puke.
(From laughing so hard...)
Posted by: Stevie at 11:14 AM | Comments (8) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
June 14, 2005
Holy shit, this horse...
It went better than "fine".
She didn't mind the western saddle, the bar bit, the trails, the stupid dog, the stream... she was really, really good. Of course, she was keyed up nearly the whole ride, but I relaxed about halfway through. I am simply amazed. "Brandy, you're a fine girl... (such a fine girl)What a gooood horse you will be..." I think she's gonna like it here just fine. Once again, and not for the last time...
Thank you, God.
You rock, Your Ultimate Dudeness.
Sincerely. Goin' ta bed now, before I pass out. Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 11:36 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
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