December 26, 2006
Meanwhile... (this post was started early Christmas morning)...
This'll be a first for me...
What I'm gonna do is keep on writing (apparently), but put it to draft til later.And, instead of seperate posts, I'm just gonna keep coming back to this one and I'll just put what time it is under each new section.
Maybe a wavy line ~~~~~~~~~~ between them. Anyway, I am just now getting the stupid house cleaned again. Still haven't baked the (4 different kinds of) cookies yet, but I do have the oven preheated already for whenever I do manage to get to it (next week). Meanwhile, here's a list so I can at least try to do this in some kind of organized fashion... Laundry In the kitchen
Finish straightening up.
Bake the cookies
Cat boxes
Vacuum
Mop In the front room
Cat boxes
Straighten
Vacuum In the living room
Cat boxes
Straighten
Vacuum In some room
Wrap presents Out of all this, I think the cookies will be last on the list.
Can't keep 'em from burning and shit by being distracted by other shit. So, get all the house shit done, then, maybe get a shower and be in my clean and soft flannel jammies while I bake cookies and people wake up and come in from work and alla that? Yeah, sure.
Why not? And, ya know... for once, the list of shit I've already gotten done is almost as long as the list of shit I need to do. Just getting all the damned silverware washed took for-fuckin'-EVER, Ihatesilverware. Most of the "ugh" crap is done.
Thank Gawd. In other news, wouldja like to know "Reason # 9,162,502 why it is that Joisey sucks? Some jerkweed in either Vineland or Bridgeton, both their own kinda cesspools those two towns are, stole a buncha tools off George's truck yesterday. Nice, huh? I'm pretty sure he has alternate versions of most of what was taken, but one thing, at least, was new... his jigsaw. I hope whoever took his shit pulls a ma-ajor "Tim Taylor" moment and lops off a limb.
Assholes. And, have I ever mentioned that I love the character Perry Cox, on Scrubs? Well, I do. So much so, that every time he gets going verbally, as I sit, grinning, listening to him, I wish there was a person anywhere in my life that I knew who was like that. I absolutely love the intelligence and confidence level he has to be able to do what he does so well.
And, funny...
Lord... I like the guy who plays him too and I do know his name, but I can't think of it right now.
But, I have the guy in another movie... he's a lawyer in the Von Stein murder case in Smallwood, NC.
Happened back in the early 90's.
The book is called Cruel Doubt.
The movie might be too...
Anyway, that guy is Jim Vosburgh in the movie. He's kinda cute, in a quirky way, in that movie, but you couple his "cute" with that ascerbic wit and I'm floored... *coupla seconds later* Okay.
Jr. just went out to milk.
Sr. is back in bed.
George is probably asleep too, at his Mom's house, soooo... Once The Stepford Wives is over in the kitchen, I can switch to the CD player and get some good old heart rate increasing rock and ROLL goin' 'round heah. Little Def Lep.
Some Eddie Money.
Little bit o'the Monkees... Yeah.
Gonna have fun while I get this done. And, oh yeah, shit...
James Brown is dead.
73 years old.
Went into the hospital last night, died quarter of two this morning.
R.I.P., Godfather... Back later...
(4:43am) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Okay.
It's about 20 of 11 and everything except mopping the kitchen floor, baking the cookies and wrapping the presents is done I re-eally don't feel like doing 6200 "strike" tags, so... just picture it that way, okay? What I'm about to do now is go get the shit outta my trunk, wrap it, grab a shower and then, I guess, we're opening stuff. After that, I have half an idea about baking cookies and yes, the oven is still on. So, since my cigarette is done, so am I. I shall return. Hope everybody is having a great Christmas, too... Peace
(10:44am) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Oh, the best laid plans of mice and ME. I did okay up to and through opening the presents, then, Sr. convinced me to go to sleep for a while.
(I was crosseyed by then...) So, I went to sleep for a little ibt, got up, wrapped George's stuff and he just got home and opened it, so that worked out well. Now, all I hafta do is the baking (of myself and cookies and shit), my nails and the rest of the wash. Other than that, I'm done everything.
Except... by the time I really get done everything, it'll be time to start over again... And, do you know what? I have YET to see the NatLamp Christmas movie or the "you'll shoot yer eye out" one, either. I have 'em both on either DVD or tape, but... what do I, Miss Twisted, have in two out of the three "players" on the TV's around here? Helter Skelter playing endlessly in the bedroom upstairs and The Stand going in the kitchen. Murder and death and the end of the world. That says something about me and I don't think I wanna know what. (And, I'm not even in any kinda bad mood...) Well, okay then...
The guys just started Sr.'s new DVD of John Wayne's The Cowboys.
This maaaaakes about 32 times today that this particular feature has been "aired", soooo... I think I'mina toddle off to the kitchen and bake something.
And cookies. Back later again...
(9:22pm) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Pft.
By 10p, they were all in bed.
That didn't take long, did it? Since I had the place to myself again, I went into the cookie business. Peanut butter are done.
As are the oatmeal raisin. I have the batter made for Sr.'s Special Dark toll house, but the nimrod done et all but about 40 of the chips I had, so now I gotta go to the stupid store again. I'm already dressed and I've got the CD player sittin' riiiight here, with Def Lep ready to go. Gotta go get those chips and some other crap, too. And, if I don't give up, if I do what I wanna do, I'll be making three kinds of tollhouse(s?).
His "special dark".
And, with walnuts and without. So, that'll be five different kinds of cookies in one night. Last load of laundry is washin' as I type, too. And, I think I'm getting a cold that's being born in my sinuses. 'Bout two or three hours ago, I sneezed like I always do... one of those inverted, mostly held in, ear drum poppers. Oh holy Jeezus... Felt like I shoved an arrow into the back of my nose.
Stayed that way for a while, too.
Also, I've been blowing my nose more than I ever have any guy, so ya know that can't be good.
In fact, Puffs are on my list for the store... Still haven't done much more to my nails than look at them with a mixture of disgust and sorrow for the state they're currently in. They look fine at a glance, but I know which ones have what problems because I can feel it. Maybe once I get back from the store and get that last load of clothes into the dryer I'll work on my nails between cookie sheet rotations.
I'll have about 6 or 7 minutes each time... Anyway...
at some point, I have a coupla emails to answer.
I'm still thinking about one of them... kinda surprising.
The point is, if I don't get to them while it's light out, I will get to them when I get up.
(Which, if things go the way they have been lately, oughta be around 6pm or so. I keep going to bed at friggin' noon and sleeping til around 6p. I am so BACKWARDS.) So, I think that's everything.... Oh, except... what I said about the emails?
Same goes for Gut Rumbles.
If I don't do it some time today while it's still "day", I'll get to it first thing when I get up. I really, truly and to the DEPTHS OF MY SOUL wanna get all these kinds of cookies done and outta my head.
Tired of hearing me nag myself about 'em. And, on that note, I'm outta here.
Back later. Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 07:07 AM | Comments (12) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 25, 2006
Who draws the crowd and plays so loud, baby it's the guitar man
Who's gonna steal the show, you know baby it's the guitar man
He can make you love, he can make you cry
He will bring you down then he'll get you high
Somethin' keeps him goin' miles and miles a day
To find another place to play. Night after night who treats you right, baby it's the guitar man
Who's on the radio, you go listen to the guitar man
Then he comes to town and you see his face
And you think you might like to take his place
Somethin' keeps him driftin' miles and miles away
Searchin' for the songs to play. Then you listen to the music and you like to play along
You want to get the meaning out of each and every song
Then you find yourself a message and some words
To call your own and take them home. He can make you love, he can get you high
He will bring you down then he'll make you cry
Somethin' keeps him movin' but no one seems to know
What it is that makes him go. Then the lights begin to flicker and the sound is getting dim
The voice begins to falter and the crowds are getting thin
But he never seems to notice he's just got to find
Another place to play, either way got to play
Either way got to play
Posted by: Stevie at 12:30 AM | Comments (12) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Great job!December 24, 2006
I found it...
I found the last link I wanted for Guitar Man.
I published it, briefly, got my permalink and now (or later on today, I need to step away from here for a while), I'll read it like a complete post for the first time, check the links and make sure they work and that they "work" the way I intend them to. If everything is good, I'll be sending it as an email to a few people. Then, day after tomorrow, I'll post it myself. Meanwhile, I still ain't done SHIT around here yet... I'm about to, though... Right after I say this (and, please, God... don't let this take me another hour, okay?)... Regarding the next post... I realize that the way I've put things or some of the words I've used may frost some people's asses.At least until they read the whole thing, or maybe even after that, if they still don't take what I said the way I meant it. Nuances and all... hard to determine when you're reading, as opposed to seeing facial expressions and being able to actually hear the voice things are being said with. With that in mind, I feel like I want to try to "set the scene", as it were, so you get the proper "flavor" of what I'm saying. I'm not angry... not right now and not when I was writing that.
I have been, very much so, and could very well be again, if history were to repeat itself in any way. But, I'm not angry now. By the same token, I haven't forgotten what happened.
What was done to Rob has changed me, as a person, the way I see people, how I do or don't trust people... what was done to Rob made a permanant mark on me and it'll never go away.
It's a scar, really... In spite of that, I still mean the upshot of that post. And, I didn't say anything the way I said it on purpose to hurt anybody or stir shit up.
It just flowed out the way it did and I let it stand the way it came, mostly.
I maybe added a bit more explanation here or there, but, the way I said it is the unvarnished, no kid gloves truth as it was presented to me by Rob, in his own words.
That's how I perceived it and always will. So, I'm not trying to be mean, okay? Some people have a really hard time seeing the difference between brutal honesty and being picked on. And, frankly?
There were MANY times that I had other women in mind as I was writing that. And, for the record, what I see in my mind when I think of Rob and women is him, sitting on a dock, fishing into a swarming school of fish that never do leave the area.
(And, ya won't BELIEVE what he's using for bait, but there I go again, saying shit that could be taken the wrong way... *snort*) There's some humor, some hurt, some humanity, a little anger and a lotta love in that post. See it as clearly as some of you will the perceived insults, okay? It's there.
Find it. Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 07:11 AM | Comments (12) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
I don't know about this...
Hell, I don't even know if I'm gonna post this or not, but... what the hell.
I'll try writing it out and see if it comes out "okay".
If it does, fine.
If not... pft. I'll either try again, publish it anyway or just drop it.
'Cause, if I post the results, I feel like I need to explain something about having taken the test in the first place...
And, that's because of where I found it...
WHO I found it through... And, it's often difficult to talk to or about this person without it degenerating into a... into a fuckin' MESS. (And, I must add right now... I've been giggling since I got the results. And, just saying that it always becomes a "mess" just made me outright LAUGH, because it's true and it's somewhat of an understatement. Which leads me to want to post the results, on one hand and also makes me think I need to make this "explanation" first. And, frankly, maybe if I were to go through the "explanation" part, it could clear some shit up. Or, it could start the whole damed thing over again...) Aw, fuck it.
Everybody already thinks I'm nuts to begin with and if they know me that well, they also know I'm an absolute MILITANT when it comes to Rob.
And, maybe, if I explain that... why I'm like that and will NEVER CHANGE in that aspect of myself... hell, why I don't even WANT to change that aspect of myself... well, it'll either make everything a lot easier or it will affect nothing. I really don't think things could be more strained, uncomfortable and potentially volatile than they have been... And, maybe... if I make it clear why I am like I am and what it is that'll cause more trouble than it's worth, it won't happen. I could maybe quit worrying about it and waiting for it and maybe move on to what extent this situation can be moved on from.
Which ain't a lot to begin with... Anyway... I found the "test" at Livey's.
Yeah, I've been reading her all along.
She's commented here a time or two and I even left her a comment, after she made me laugh out loud a week or so ago. Now, to be brutally honest about it, the reason I kept reading her is the old Mafia rule... "Keep your friends close, your enemies closer."
(Eh, maybe that's not the best reason I could've had, but it's brought me to where I am now, so shut up.) And, where am I now?
Right here.
Right where I'm gonna be til I'm dead and they pry my stiff, cold fingers offa this keyboard.
Right here.
Keeping an eagle eye peeled for any possible assaults on Rob, his character, the truth about him and his life... right HERE.
I ain't moving, I ain't giving up my watch, I'm not capitulating one bit.
Where I am right now is... here.
And, "here" isn't a place I've been before because it's a place where I am required to drop my guard at all, let alone enough for this to work.
But, I'm still willing to give it a shot and if it doesn't work, I'll simply go back to what I know and God help anybody who, even inadvertantly, crosses the line.
Because, one thing that IS clear is how I am about Rob, even if these reasons for the way I am haven't been very well understood. And, I'm willing to give ya a chance to understand and see if it does anybody any good, but, the bottom line is: I am how I am about a one-of-a-kind man and neither of those "facts" will ever change. What I seem to be doing (still) is making my stand and now, I'm cementing myself into it (as if I haven't been willingly locked into it all along) and seeing who, if anybody, can handle that. Most do handle it, really well. The ones who can't can keep on goin'.
I don't know you people, I don't WANT to know you and, if you're inclined to give me shit about who and the way I am, you can also kiss my ass. I really don't care.
After the amount of pure shit I was given by a buncha ASSHOLES who don't even know me after Rob died, I have no interest whatsoever in ever listening to anything ELSE they may want to say.
They proved themselves to be a load of lying asswipes and I'm perfectly content with them all fucking off forever and... you dickbags know who you are.
(And, not one of them is Livey even though I know for a fact that she did it too. I saw her emails about me, I read the fiction about me in her comments... still, she's not who I'm addressing with that statement, so bite me.) I'm not going to change just to appease people, especially the kind of people who did and would continue to give me grief about the whole thing. So, here's the deal, spelled out as frankly, honestly and NICELY as I can.
Okay?
Good. And, away we go.... First thing everybody thinks they know about me that they really don't understand the depth of... Rob was all but a God to me.
Right or wrong, it's the truth. Without being asked to, without eeeeven knowing he was (or giving a shit that he was, I'm sure) that man SAVED ME. From the VERY FIRST TIME I ever read him, he had me.
Totally. In a way that nobody else has ever done it, he had me from the very beginning.
I could (and still do) FEEL him.
In reading his words, I could FEEL the emotions in them, good and bad.
I knew EXACTLY what he meant, even when he didn't.
And, especially when others didn't. And, I'd been around the proverbial block enough times in my life to know, even more importantly, what he was NOT. I never EVER wanted to "fuck" Rob.
Not with words at Gut Rumbles and not physically. Hell, I was so intimidated by him for the first two years, I used to literally SHAKE when he'd comment or, Good Gawd Almighty, LINK ME. And, that was just from HIM, that intimidation I felt.
That was BESIDES all the lying, jealous bitches he had running around him, trying to piss on his leg and mark their territory.
Not to mention the weirdos, trolls and other looney-toons (yes, like me, shut up again) he attracted. It was very much like trying to leap on a race horse, mid-race, and not get killed in the process to join in at Gut Rumbles. Especially when I'd been nice and TRIED not to step on any (what turned out to be totally meaningless) toes.
I ASKED a certain person about writing to him before I did it.
I did this because she was the most recent female that Rob had had in his bed and I mistakenly thought that mattered somehow.
It didn't.
For my efforts, I got lied to, then called "psycho" and all but a whore every goddamned place I went after that that "this person" happened to be.
I was told more goddamned lying, buncha shit stories about myself and this... BITCH by people... Jesus.
Stories that she had MADE UP in her own bent head.
All so she could "run me off" before I even had a chance to even communicate with Rob. Didn't work.
In fact, it blew up in her face.
Karma, I love ya.... Anyway, I was quite taken by Rob from the first.
His survival was awsome to behold.
His strength, his iron balls, his heart, his struggle, his triumphs... it was all very compelling.
As was Rob himself. DIRECTLY because of Rob, I started blogging myself.
And, the day my Dad said to me, "Thank GOD for Xfire. Without it, I don't know where you'd be today...", I knew then that I'd been given a gift, a rare and precious gift, by this man, Rob Smith. He gave me the tools, the balls and the example of how to save myself FROM myself. Not only that, but after we became known to each other (not just me knowing who he was), he took my hand and helped me along sometimes. He let me become one of his friends. Not a bed partner, not a piece of ass... a FRIEND. He let me become someone he KNEW loved him and that he could count on NEVER to stab him in the back or turn away from him, or delink him, or treat him like shit.
I knew he knew that about me.
I LOVED that he knew that about me. I had to eat a LOT of shit for it from jealous assholes, but... ya know what?
Fuck them all.
I didn't care then and I don't now. Y'all can call me whatever kinda "ass-kissing, groupie/minion cunt" ya want to.
All it does is reinforce my feelings about it all.
Makes me even STRONGER in my defense of Rob.
Makes me love him even MORE because he's worth alla that trifilin' BULLSHIT and more.
Bring it on.
Have a ball.
Wear yourselves right the fuck out. I.
don't.
care. Have at it. Yeah, I'm psychotic twat about Rob Smith.
Whoo-hoo.
*rolling eyes* So fuckin' what? I gotta tell ya's... y'all haven't been forced to witness everything I have in me, waiting, in case Rob does get maligned.
Again. Hope ya never do. Sincerely. Anyway... I loved him from the first. A lot.
I wanted to HELP him some how...
I wanted to at least be able to do for him what he'd done for me.
(You know... saved me.)
Turns out I failed at THAT little task, but... he was his own man. That's one thing I got about him from the first post of his I ever read that not many other people EVER figured out. The more I got to know him and his friends (Cat), the more there was to love about him just being who he was.
I didn't want him to change who he was.
I didn't give him shit for feeling like he did or saying it how he said it. I loved his fire.
I've never seen one burn brighter.
(Unfortunately, in this world, it seems the brighter you shine, the faster you burn out...) By June of 2006, I don't think my feelings for and about Rob were any secret.
I don't think that it should have come as a shock to anybody that I'd have beaten the HELL out of ANYONE had Rob indicated in any way that that's what he wanted done to make people leave him be. I'd have taken a bullet... MANY BULLETS... for that man, if I could have.
Let Jennifer play her shit with ME.
Let the trolls come try fuckin' with ME.
Let ME be the one kept from a child, not him.
Let ME be the one who has all that pain, not him.
He'd been through ENOUGH.
He'd survived ENOUGH and deserved a break.
If not "several" breaks... which he never got. So, are ya with me here?
Rob was a horribly wounded GOD, surrounded by a bunch of opportunistic, trash-talking dickheads for the most part. And... I loved him.
(Still do.) And, THAT, friends (and NOT friends) and neighbors, is the recipe that made me who I am today...
the ass-kissing groupie/minion cunt...
who'll rip yer fuckin' head off and shit down yer neck if you even THINK about fuckin' with Rob in any way, at any time and for any reason should I get wind of it. I won't have it. ENOUGH was done to the man.
MORE than enough, if you know the ENTIRE story, which many don't.
And... never will. The point is, Rob went through a LOT of needless shit that I couldn't do anything about. Well, I can and will see to it that he's not subjected to any more horseshit. I will NOT sit idly by while ANYBODY rewrites his history or his story. I know what the deal was.
I know what it had been and I know what it was at the last, too. In one word it was: ENOUGH And, honestly, I don't know which is stronger in me... the love I have for Rob or the fierce protectiveness that I also feel and will continue to feel til sometime after I'm dead. But, I do know that I've never felt so much of the way I feel about Rob about anybody before and probably never will again, so... this is IT for me. If the reason I was put on this planet is to be the keeper of Rob's truth, so be it.
At least now I know why I had to come here, be born, put up with my stupid life and alla that shit.
If it's so I could be what I am now, great.
At least there IS a reason for me being here finally.
(And, it's about goddamned time, too. 43 years I've gotta be here before I find out WHY. Jeezus...) Anyway... this is all very rock-like, unshakable and STRONG in me. If it's what I'm supposed to, or need to, dedicate the rest of my life to, I'm good with that.
I actually love that idea.
Works for me.
Hope it does the rest of the planet, especially those who found it "sporting" to fuck with Rob endlessly. You assholes are the ones I really want.
Your bloody scalps dangling into a PIGPEN is what I want for you losers.
And, given the chance, I'll make it happen.
For Rob.
For the additional grief you brought to him that he didn't need. I don't forget. So, no amount of time passing will lessen my resolve in this. It could be 2029 and I'll still be on duty as far as Rob goes.
There will NEVER be a time when it's okay for people to start fucking him over again.
Never. Y'all got away with "bearding the lion" when he was too worn out to bite back and really chew your empty heads off.
Y'all got away with it when the lion was old, tired and hurting. You won't get away with it anymore. I'll see to that with every breath God allows me to draw.
Bet on it. And, that's where I am now.
This is WHO I am now. Rob impacted my life like a jet swooping into a Piper Cub's flight path.
I got caught up in his propulsion and taught to really fly, to be as free from the constraints of this world and all it's pain as a person can be.
And, I was taught by Rob how to deal with it when I have to (like I am right now).
And, I won't ever let a man who gave me that kind of gift be hurt again. And, yeah... he still can be hurt.
His memory can be.
And, I won't have that.
Not one WORD of it. Which, fortunately, there hasn't been a lot of lately.
But, at first?
Hoo-boy. Good CHRIST, did people want to spin shit.
They wanted to try to make things a way they WEREN'T.
Things were said and done that, had Rob known of it, would have sent him through the fuckin' ROOF, with the lies and bullshit being stated and acted out as fact when it wasn't. And,
it totally, completely and to the core of my very SOUL pissed me off in a way I never have been before and hope to God never to be again. It went beyond me wanting to hurt, main or kill.
It went into me begging God to smite people and send them to hell when they die for what they were doing.
They deserved it.
That, and more. And, I don't have any interest in hearing a bunch of shit about how "emotional" a time it was, how shit like that oughta be "excused" because of the situation. Bullshit. I was just as fucked up by it as anybody and ya didn't see ME running around, lying about my relationship with Rob and trying to make one meaningless thing that happened into something else.
And, even if I had (been dumb enough to have) slept with him, I'm not so stupid as to have tried to make it into anything other than what it would have been... a fun time had by all that ENDED WHEN I LEFT GEORGIA.
(Like it was with EVERY SINGLE OTHER FEMALE HE BEDDED.) After Jennifer, when it came to women, Rob was a consumer.
And, women were the product.
End of story. I may not have agreed with it, but... Rob was in love with Jennifer til the day he died and I knew nobody, least of all me, could ever "fix" that for him.
Nobody, least of all me, could EVER take her place in his life or his heart and... I never really wanted to.
All I wanted was for his love for Jennifer not to hurt him so badly.
For HER not to hurt so him much, every time she could or... to be there for him when she did and ya always KNEW she would. I don't confuse sex with love.
Anymore.
Oh, I used to, just like the rest of Rob's "recepticles" did, but... I wised up looooong before I "met" him.
So, the love I have for him was never about that. It just was because it was.
It existed and still does simply because he was who he was, just exactly LIKE he was. Rob was who he was, no apologies.
I love him as much and the way I love him, no apologies. That second fact is FUSED to the reality of the first fact, therefore it will never change. Unnerstand? *whew*
(I just re-read all of this and boy Howdy, am I taking a long and careful time to explain this shit... Do y'all have any idea how much easier this would all be if people didn't INSIST on being revisionist peckerheads about Rob? God.) Any-longfuckin'post-way... Rob was the first real, live, of-my-own-time hero I ever had.
I missed Buford Pusser by a few years.... And, as such, Rob is sacrosanct to me. And, there is NO ONE out there in "Blogland" more important to me than him.
Never will be.
There will never be any person who I respect more, care about more and enough about to let them shit all over Rob.
(And, actually, now that I think about it, I don't think I'd even consider a person who'd want to do that to Rob now... I wouldn't consider them my friend, or his, I wouldn't consider them enough of a human being to even worry about destroying if anyone should do that. Especially now that he's not here to speak up for himself anymore. That's just... beyond wrong.) So, all this is how I feel.
Still.
After six months. Can ya even imagine how much more of this there was at first?
Can you even imagine how hard it is to contain this even now? I'm just sitting here, coiled, like a spring, just waiting for the first dipshit to unlock the catch by being as ass about Rob and have to deal with the energy that'll be unleashed upon them if they push me. And...
I love it. Being this way about Rob gives me a feeling of conviction unlike any I've ever had about anything ever before.
It makes me feel useful and alive.
And, again- to be brutally honest- there's a small, mean, capering little devil in me that wishes somebody would unleash my inner Pit Bull.
Hell, I'd have fun.
It'd be a blast to hurt somebody for Rob who hurt him.
I'd LOVE to be able to do that for him. But... believe it or not... Jennifer is NOT on that list. He loved her. I can't hurt her. He LOVED her. But but... there're still people around who THOUGHT they were "Jennifer-like" to him (in that they could "fix" his life for him if ONLY he'd "let" them) that bear watching.
People who have already done MORE THAN enough to him when he was alive and after he died.
One person in particular that needed to be slapped upside the head for the things that were said and done.
("Love to hate, hate to love"? What the FUCK kinda thing is that to say at a man's funeral? My GOD.) Yeah, there was a lot of shit said and done that just plain shouldn't have been said and done. Too late to change that now.
Too long to still be pissed about it, too.
So...
I'm learning not to be. WITH THE PRVISO that, if it happens again, all bets are OFF and war WILL be waged against the bullshit. Okay? And, that's where "Yeah, I'm starting to be able to see Livey without seeing RED" comes in. She's been keeping her mouth shut about Rob. And, that's good. That's all I want. No more of this revisionist horseshit about what the deal was. It was what it was and, in the end, even wasn't even that- fun- anymore for Rob. And, if he'd had any idea of the things that were said and done... wow. I think had Rob known about it, Jennifer woulda been bumped off the top of his "If they didn't have a pussy, there'd be a bounty on their heads/women suck" list. I mean, Jesus... he was already somewhere past pissed at what was done to him at the beginning of June (not to mention even before that).
He made his feelings on the whole subject PERFECTLY clear to anyone who CARED enough to see it. And, frankly, if it'd been me I'd never have done that to him in the first place and I surely wouldn't have stayed around someplace I was being told to fuck off from.
But... that's just me.
Some other people can't face the real truth even when they get wopped in the face with it. Again though... not my problem. My "problem" is keeping Rob's ass out of the line of fire.
Or, more to the point, throwing myself in front of any bullets shot his way.
I did that when he was alive, ya don't think I'm not gonna keep doing it now, do ya? So, having said alla that, I can finally get closer the my frickin' POINT, which is that test.
And Linda.
And my contact with her lately that hasn't been so bad.
(Yet.) And, that won't BE so bad as long as she keeps her version of her "Rob" story to herself.
Where it belongs.
Where it can't be absolutely refuted by Rob's OWN WORDS.
(Which, yes, I still have to prove his point, if need be.) That's it.
That's all of my "psychosis". Put an absolute end to any possible crap like that THAT I CAN TRUST and ya put an end to me being such an ass-kissing groupie/minion cunt. Or whatever. And, since she hasn't done any of that utterly stupid shit lately, I'm coming around.
I'm not the hate-filled, wanna-see-you-suffer-like-you-made-HIM-suffer bitch that I can be. It'll always be there, just in case, but... it doesn't need to be so "on the surface" as it has been. I can be around her as long as she doesn't try feeding me that tripe about Rob. It's up to her, pretty much. Meanwhile, she's not being an ass and I'm slowly starting to see her AS HER, not as some heartless, insane person who has to claim the spotlight no matter whose memory she hurts. I don't know that I can ever forgive her for the shit she did to Rob while he was alive, let alone the crap she pulled "behind his back" as it were, after he died, but... I can try to get past it.
And, I think I am.
But, I wouldn't be able to even try if I had to mince words or not be honest about it from my perspective.
So, if the way I'm putting this is perceived as harsh, rest assured that this is mild compared to how BIG it used to be and could be again, if provoked. And, who knows?
Maybe my one rule will be too much and Linda will tell me to shove it, that being "conditional friends" isn't something she's interested in.
That's fine.
'Cause I still got to get this all said. And, dear God, it's not that I think being friends with ME is any big deal or something to be crawled across broken glass to get to, but... in that we've commented to each other a coupla times and that not EVERYTHING in our lives MUST revolve around Rob, it seems like there could be room for us to be around each other a little and not have to keep circling each other sideways, waiting for a fight. I've had a feeling about this for a while, too.
Yet another reason why I keep reading her. And, I think if we agree to not discuss Rob and she knows from the gitgo that I'll turn Pit Bull the instant she starts, maybe she won't and we can BOTH move on from this. Again, up to her, but my rule is steadfast and will never change. Rob is OFF LIMITS. I won't see, hear, read or be subjected to her version of events because they're not true. And, that's not picking on her, either. I never have had any time, patience or temper for being lied to.
By ANYBODY. And, when it comes to her and Rob, Rob's word is GOSPEL to me. What HE said, what HE wanted, what HE was put through is all that matters to me. If you can handle that, you can handle ME. Meanwhile, we've been reading each other and have both said a coupla things that weren't inflammatory, so.... I'm up for getting offa her ass if she's ready to get offa Rob's. If I don't hafta wonder every single day whether or not when I click on her link that she's got some shit posted that would make Rob scream, she can quit worrying about me making her scream. And, mind you, I'm not taking myself off the market for being fucked with.
I'm still game.
I'm still out in the open, probably after this with a target on my back, but Rob's not.
That's all.
Leave him be and I'll leave you be. How much more fair can ya get than that? You don't defile a dead man's memory and I won't make you eat it served in a delectible bed of his words. And, that actually goes for anybody, but with everybody else, it's gonna be all my own fight.
With Linda, it'll just be me repeating what Rob said himself. And, maybe that's why I focus so much on her.
Because ROB articulated his opinion, his truth about that situation, as far as I'm concerned.
He made his feelings regarding her crystal clear.
MORE THAN ONCE.
Whatever it had been, it wasn't anymore by June.
What it was, was OVER for him.
He outright said he didn't want any more contact being made. He didn't feel a need to do that with everybody, so I don't feel such a strong urge to protect him from everybody as much. Plus, nobody else said and did the things she said and did after... in Georgia.
So, nobody else kinda has this sandwich board on 'em proclaiming that they need to be sat on when it comes to Rob. Know what I mean? Anyway... I'm a nut.
I love Rob.
I don't hate Linda.
I won't put up with one single lie being told about him and anything that contradicts what Rob said himself is considered, by me, to be a lie regarding this particular situation. Okay?
Clear enough?
Fair enough?
(And, if it's not clear enough, let me know, ask your questions, and I'll answer 'em as best I can. If it's not fair enough, tough.) So... that's where I am with Linda these days and that's how I came to see the results of a test she took and how I came to take it myself just to see what they came up with AND, it's what led me to simultaneously laugh and want to do myself great bodily injury when we got some of the same results. Seriously... I was laughing at it and saying, "Oh, Gawd" at the same time, then I got to thinking... We're not completely unalike.
VERY unalike, mostly unalike, but... not totally. And, that led to, except for the whole Rob thing, I don't even dislike her, really. Except for the whole Rob thing, it's like trying to hate a bunny or a some other child-like entity.
Except for the whole Rob thing, it's kinda stupid.
And, except for the Rob thing, I DON'T have a problem with her. So, if we can avoid the whole Rob thing, we can get along.
If she wants... This is the way it needs to be for me, if this is gonna work and... it's up to her, like I said. Makes me no nevermind one way or the other. It just is what it is. Accept it or not. And, now... finally, after alla this... I'm gonna stick my results of that test in the EP 'cause it's almost as long as this is. Then, I'm gonna go do all this shit I've been wanting to do for the last few days.
And, I might even find THE LAST DAMNED LINK I NEED to finish "Guitar Man". In fact, I think I'm gonna do that first.
I want to get this done and sent out so I can post it "in time".
For Christmas Day.
(To be left up for a day or two, too, by the way, so if ya don't hear from me, that's why...) So.
If ya have any eyeballs left after alla this, feel free to click the Extended Play. I need to go feed the dogs... among other things. Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 03:08 AM | Comments (11) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 22, 2006
Merry motherfuckin' christmas, you cat-killing asshole...
I don't know who you are, but... I hope you die a nasty and very painful death, you sick fuck.
How the FUCK can you not see a white goddamned cat?
How the FUCK do you manage to run over and KILL a white cat on a black road, you jerkoff, mommy-fucking loser?
Dale.
Couldn't keep him inside the house fer shit.
He didn't like it, nor did any of the other cats, not even his sisters, WHOM I still have. He was a good cat, just not a "house cat". But, that didn't mean he needed or deserved to be run over in the road like he didn't matter THEN LEFT LAYING THERE, you cat-killing LAZY FUCK.
You ran him over.
YOU KILLED HIM.
And, since you couldn't be bothered to MOVE him, I wish I did know who you are so I could fuck up everything you own, are or ever will have or be. I hope you die.
I hope you hit a fuckin' tree with that vehicle you ran Dale over with.
I hope you hit a tree, the car bursts into flame and that you burn to death and know every second of it, you useless cat killing piece of shit. I hope ypu get hit by a tractor-trailer and left to lay there, along the side of the road, in the fuckin' RAIN, just like you did Dale. You suck.
Your FAMILY sucks.
And, your mother should be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law for ever giving birth to such a total piece of shit as you so plainly are. Fuck you.
I hope you die too.
You dick. And, Dale?
I am soooo sorry, man.
Why wouldn't you just stay in here with the rest of us?
Why didja hafta keep going back out?
Why didn't you keep coming back?
Yeah, I know. There's lotsa cats around here, but I only had one Dale and you were it, buddy.
Now, I don't have you anymore and I know I'll never see you again and that my last memory of you is gonna be petting you "goodbye" just a few minutes ago.
You were wet and cold and not Dale.
You were Dale's cold stiff body.
That's what I'll remember, too, damn it. Motherless GOD, I hate people who do this kinda ball-less shit. Probably a buncha stupid redneck assholes, laughin' it up as they drove on down the road after hitting him.
IF they didn't swerve to hit him on purpose.
I KNOW people do that, too. People suck. Dale, I'm sorry, Honey, that your life ended at all, especially this way.
I've been missing you anyway, since you had to be all "Rambo" and be a "survivalist" out there.
I never did know why you just weren't happy in the house.
But, that missing you I was doing ain't shit compared to how I feel now. I guess I shoulda just duct taped yer ass to the wall or something and made you stay in here, hating it and pissed, right? It woulda been the only way to keep this shit from happening to you, ya know.
Especially since the DICKHEADS around here can't seem to drive with any "animal avoiding skill" WHATSOEVER. Wanna know how many animals I've killed in 25 years of driving? One. There were two dogs in the road and I swerved to avoid the one I saw and hit the black one.
And, after I did that, I took that poor (already dead) dog RIGHT to a vet's office that was down the road.
I was FREAKIN' over killing this poor dog.
I gave a shit.
Which is WAY more than I can say for the loser fucks who've hit my cats around here. This makes three. Big Fuzz before we got moved all the way in.
Little Fuzz while I was in Georgia for Rob because ASSHOLES in my own fuckin' HOUSE couldn't be bothered to do what the fuck I said and keep him inside.
(They goddamned do NOW.)
And, now Dale. I have GOT to find Diamond and get his ass back in this house TOMORROW and I'm going to.
He's down the road someplace, near the Boss's son's house.
I keep getting "sightings reports" on him. And, no, I don't know why he starting hanging out down there.
But, I DO know I AM going to put an end to it.
BEFORE some retarded loser FUCK kills him, too. Merry fuckin' Christmas, you bleeding asshole. Die.
Posted by: Stevie at 06:59 PM | Comments (14) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Have you ever had a 4 hour orgasm?
Me neither.
But... I did just get to talk to Paul for 4 hours.That's close enough, as far as I'm concerned. I feel positively drained (in a good way) and I'm even smokin' a cigarette.
*weg* Man.
It's been sooooo long since we've had a chance to do that.
Just sit and talk about any and everything that comes to mind...
Hell, I even had a few questions written down that I needed to ask him so I wouldn't forget. That's what I do these days.
If something comes up that I need to ask him about or whatever, I write it down and keep it near the computer for when I do get to talk to him.
If it's a "emergency" of some kind, I can get him right away if I need to, but... I try not to do that too much.
Mostly what I do with the shit that's not an emergency, but also can't wait til "whenever" is leave 15 minutes worth of "a" voicemail, no matter how many times I hafta call back to finish.
*lmao*
I feel like Rachael trying to explain to Barry by phone why she'd left him at the alter way back in the beginning of the "Friends" series.
She had to keep calling back because his voice mail kept running out. Same here. Then, God will finally decide to "make His face to shine upon me" and I'll get to have an actual conversation with Paul and it goes on for hours. I tried running the idea past him that if I got to talk to him more than twice a frickin' year, it might not take so long, but he immediately called bullshit by reminding me that we've always had marathon phone conversations, soooo... I'll hafta think of some other way to convince him of the wisdom of spending copious amounts of time on the phone like we used to. In other news... It's almost 5:30am.
Sr. is outside, at work.
Jr. is off, as is George.
George, in fact, will be goin' to Joisey sometime today, for the weekend. The house needs to be tweaked, but is in pretty good shape otherwise.
I still need to make those stupid cookies that I've been talkin' about for, what? A week now?
Jeezus. All week long, I've been stayin' up all night to do just that (and a few other things I also haven't done yet) and I never do actually do it. Instead, I get on here, do my reading, take care of Gut Rumbles, maybe post here, probably get distracted by something else, then it becomes time for the morning parade to start. First, I hafta go get Sr. up.
Then, about 45 minutes later, George staggers down.
Hour or so later, he goes and wakes up Jr.
By the time alla these people are awake and outta here, I'm all bored, stiff, tired and not at all motivated to do jackshit.
So, I go to bed and get up God knows when and, again, before I know it, there're people all over the place again, so I begin to wait again for them to go somewhere, like to bed.
Then, when they do, I can start doing my shit and I start by coming here and it just keeps repeating like "Ground Hog Day". Now, why the fuck I can't just "do my shit" with anybody around is beyond me, but that's the way it is. It's not like anybody tries micro-managing me or gets in my way or anything, but, for some reason, I just don't do squat when there are people around. And, I don't do much more than sit here when there aren't.
Like now. What I need to do is wrap this up, get the hell up, walk my ass out to the kitchen and DO something.
Bake the cookies, do the dishes... something.
Instead of all this waiting and I don't even know what it is I'm "waiting" for. So... I think I will. I've read all the stuff in my personal toolbar (FARK and whatnot). Gut Rumbles is done and in a cool way, too. Instead of already having both posts up, I've got them set to "go off" at almost 10am and around 4pm.
Paul said that's when readership at Gut Rumbles spikes.
Around luch and after work, basically.
So, that's when it'll be "updated".
It should show up "better" (more recently, by the time people look) in the RSS feeds that way.
Anyway, that's done. Nobody else is getting up any time soon, so the morning parade has been called off on account of both the other two guys being off today. I'm not bored, or stiff or tired yet, so before I get that way, I'm gonna go start something.
Besides another pot of coffee, that is. Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 05:55 AM | Comments (8) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 21, 2006
Reason # 9,162,501 why I hate New Jersey and hope it breaks off the continent and floats away before California does...
Because it's inhabited by brainless, inbred, fuckhole afterbirths who do this kinda shit.
Posted by: Stevie at 11:33 PM | Comments (12) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 20, 2006
"Would be better if I felt like I was contributing."
That's in quotes because someone else said it.
Someone who has no idea...Someone I've been keeping an eye on for years, watching the strength and the grace and seeming ease with which this person handles life. Some of it's not been easy, I know that.
But, she makes it look like it is with the awe-inspiring strength she possesses.
(That strength that she possesses and is mostly unaware of... *admiring grin*) You know those ads for the Army, I think it was, some branch of the service anyway, where they say the recruits get more done before 6am than we do all week, pretty much? I know where they got the inspiration for that concept... especially if it was the Army who said it. Every single day, this woman does more things for more people in the course of just being who she is than any philanthropist even could.
And, ya know how they are and how much money they have to get their deeds done...
All well and good, BUT... this lady is even more incredible than that, if for no other reason (and the "other reasons" are legion) than the fact that she does what she does, all that she does, born of, and to show and grow more... love. The life she lives, the lives she sustains and supports and gives all to to give them the best choices and chances possible, from my perspective, it all looks like one huge, healthy, beating heart backlit by the aura of love. Her contribution to this can't be measured in any capacity, least of all dollars and cents, which is what she was talkin' about with that statement. Without her, none of any of the rest of it would be possible, especially not in the manner, with the love, with which she gets it done. Oh sure, maybe you could hire people, a veritable army you'd need, too, to do the daily domestic stuff she does. Three meals a day for eight people.
Keeping eight people, six of whom are kids, in clean clothes.
Keeping the house, running the errands, being a chauffeur, keeping everybody and everything not only going, but moving ahead... it's almost endless and maybe you could pay people enough to do it adequately. But, this lady is beyond "adequate".
She's all those things I just listed and then some. Like...
a loving and committed wife, a scared daughter, and a wonderful, pro-active, involved mother... She does all these things, and so much more, every single day and with such grace as to make it seem easy. And, she's mistakenly and unfavorably comparing (while not actually seeing) all that she does, which, coincidentally, all but precludes her from even having the time for a job, with bringing in a paycheck as the only notable or worthy contribution. Understandable though, in that she doesn't even see all that she does AS all that she does. In other words... she doesn't see how immensely important she, and what she does every day, is to everybody else in her house.
Nor does she have time to grasp that the manner in which she does what she does, the innate love infused into damned near every gesture, is equally as important. But, I bet she does know that love really is more important than money... in the short term as well as the long run. And, once she thinks about that, the rest might become a little clearer.
She might catch a glimpse of just how amazing she is on a daily basis.
She might just catch a quick peek at just what how tremendous the contribution is that she makes... on a daily basis. And, taking that one step further... how many people do you know who are amazing and make a tremendous contribution to anything on a daily basis? And, that is why this all *waves hand at all the typing here* needed to be said. And... wanna know another thing?
Not only does she do all stuff I've alluded to, she also contributes (to use her word *smile*) not just to my life, but to pretty much everybody's life who reads her by sharing her life with us. So, thank you for that Ang, and please... just try to see all that you do do even half as clearly as you see the things you think you still need to do, okay?
Posted by: Stevie at 11:19 PM | Comments (30) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Hey Viz...
I went to reply to your comment by email and, for some reason, it got bounced back.
So, here it is and... bite me, Yahoo.
I made it. And, oddly enough, I "spent" better than I do when I'm well rested and alert.
I stuck to my list and spent only what I needed to to get the shit we needed, which NEVER HAPPENS. Usually, I go into a grocery store needing two things and spend $60 on "other" crap. So, I did good this time. Made it home, Eric put most of the stuff... I'd say "away", but he really just stuck it "someplace" after taking it outta the bag... so, I put some of the stuff where it REALLY belongs, then went to sleep for about 6 hours. And, that's another thing... How can I be awake for dayS and only sleep for six hours?
I figured I'd wake up sometime between 10p and midnight.
But, noooooo.
I was awake at 4:30pm.
And, I went to sleep around 10:30am.... God, I'm weird.... Hugs on ya,
me
Posted by: Stevie at 09:31 PM | Comments (8) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
'Bout ready to go to the store(s)...
Hair's dry, I'm dressed and about to go.
(Actually, I'm about to go to the "library" then to the store, but... whatever.)
And, no it didn't take me since the last post to get that little bit o'shit done.
off to the kitchen for one more cuppa coffee and away to the library for a bit.
Then... to the grocery store I go.
Then, maybe Wally-world.
Then back here and to bed, I believe. I can always make cookies when I get up.... As long as I get to the grocery store... and having gotten so close to "done" on Guitar Man... everything else can wait. Y'all all have a good day.
I'll talk to ya's later. Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 07:05 AM | Comments (9) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
How to be trippin' without dropping acid...
First, stay awake for two or three days.
Everybody, sooner or later, reaches a point after having gone without sleep for a reeeeally long time where they get... sorta dazed.Kinda confused. If they're anything like me, everything is fun and funny.
You feel like you're moving really slow and you're not, really.
You can be in the middle of doing something and just flat forget what it is you're doing.
That's always fun.
You get head rushes, where everything spins except you.
That's fuckin' wicked cool.
I love that. I think the way you feel is on par with that euphoric feeling joggers claim you get after you run 37 miles and if your legs, lungs, or head hasn't spontaneously combusted by then. It's a lot like being stoned and loving it. And, when you couple it with being stoned and loving it, it's awesome. On top of which, I got an idea... I'm gonna be going to the store(s) (I might go on and go to Wally-world while I'm right there. I don't know yet...) pretty soon and, since I'm going by myself*, I'm taking the headphones. And, after I'd mentioned in a comment to Viz the same thing I just said a minute ago, an idea hit me and made me blossom out with the slowest, most "yeeeeeaaaaah" as it dawns on me what a really incredible idea it is, grin... Since I am in that rare state of "not just high, but sleep deprived high", I'm gonna put The Wall... or maybe Dark Side... in the CD player for the trip through Giant at least, if not both stores. Hearing either, or better yet BOTH, of the those CD's would be... wow. Of course, I will have Def Lep on hand... just in case.
(Just in case of what? I dunno... I miss 'em, maybe? 'Cause, I can already hear the beginning of "Pour Some Sugar on Me" in my head...) Anyway... Shower, legs, and hair... done.
All I need to do now is go dry my hair in a minute (after it's had time to air dry a little... the less time exposed to the hair dryer, the better.) and get dressed and go. Oh yeah... I just remembered I used an asterisk back there a while ago... about me going to the store by myself.
I will be by myself, but I won't be alone because I'm gonna stick a radio in George's room just in case anything happens and I'd need help.
That way it won't and neither will I.
(Meaning, nothing bad will happen and I won't need help.) And, now I can really hear "Pour Some Sugar on Me". I grabbed the CD player and Vault was already in it, so I set it next to me and turned it on.
This thing is so kick ass that I can hear 'em fine. Meanwhile, I need to go dry my hair now.
If I let it air dry too long without it being combed out, it's just... not good. Tawk to ya's when I get back. Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 12:54 AM | Comments (8) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 19, 2006
My brain is so much like (maple and brown sugar) oatmeal right now, that I can't even think of a title...
Yes.
I'm still awake.
Still goin'.
Still workin' down the list that includes soaking in the tub, running to the store(s) and baking cookies.
(But, I'm not done yet...)
I don't know how long I was in there, but I added hot water three times. Yep.
Every time I woke up, I put more hot water in there.
*rolls eyes* I sat in there so frickin' long that my ass was literally numb and my feet were so pruned, it hurt to walk. I had intended to shave my legs and do alla that kinda shit while I was in there, then I got a better idea about my hair.
Plus, I needed to let my ass wake up and my feet unprune some... Anyway, what I'm gonna do now is go get a shower shortly.
Wash my hair.
Wrap it in a towel.
Cholesterol it.
Shave my legs while that "soaks".
Rinse hair.
Dry hair.
Get dressed.
Got to stores.
Bring home a buncha shit and put it away.
Then, I'm either gonna bake these stupid cookies or work on that post. Or, collapse into a snoring heap with no warning whatsoever at some point. Right about now I'm starting to get curious about just how far I can get before I do have a "spontaneous narcoleptic interlude". Y'all oughta start some kinda pool on this shit. I doubt I'm gonna make it another 24 hours.
I've been up since 5pm, two days ago, whatever day that was.
And, the only three things I have left to do (besides my hair) are: go to the store(s), work on that post, and bake cookies.
There's not even 24 hours worth of shit there to do, really.
I mean, ohhellyeah, I can make it take that long, or longer, being a Taurus and all, but I won't. So, all you guys need is a 24 hour chart.
Everybody pick a time.
Whosever time I pass out closest to wins. Wins what, I don't know.
That's between y'all. All I need to do is remember to do a few clicks to get to this page, then just drag my hand across the keyboard thusly... wrdsgfrkjlthjy;lk;... so y'all will know when it is that I'm using my last thimble full of energy to crawl up the stairs to bed. I'll find out who won what when I wake up.
In three weeks. Anyhoo... it's almost my favorite time of day... "after around 10pm or so", because, then, everybody is home and everybody is in bed, the HELL outta my way.
*grin* I definitely wanna stay up for one more these "times" in a row.
And, this time, I don't hafta spend 90% of the time giving myself shit for all there is left to do to the stupid house still. So, once I get back from the store(s), I'll finally be at the "flannel jammies and rabbit slippers" point.
And, before I even go to the store(s), I'll have done quite a bit of that "for/to me" shit that I never have time to get to, too... deep conditioning my hair, shaving my legs, that kinda crap...
And, that'll add to how nice it all feels.
(Freshly laundered and dryer sheet-ed flannel against shaved legs? Oooh, baby...)
(Great big handfuls of the softest hair this side of a baby that smells like lilacs to mush into my face and inhale til my lungs pop? Oooooh, yeah.... *grin*) If I do manage to get alla this crap done "tonight", maybe I'll even be able to get to my nails tomorrow sometime... Ya know what?
After spending a whole 14 seconds reflecting on the fact that my "to do list" just got another huge addition to it that bleeds into the next day, I have come to the conclusion that Sam Kinison, in his "dead guy in the mortuary, 'it NEVER ENDS!!!!'" bit, was right. Further, it occurs to me that, just because it's you your own self being that pain in your ass, it changes the quality of the ass-ache quotient not one whit. Ya know?
Posted by: Stevie at 08:37 PM | Comments (12) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Almost done...
All the animal crap is done.
Almost all the human crap is, too.
And, I'm about to go take care of that.
And, while that load of clothes is washin', I'll be soaking in the tub. My body IS pain personified. Nuthin' on me doesn't hurt.
Not even my hair.
(But then, if I had a pony tail holder wound on to you, you'd be in pain, too, don'tcha think?) Gonna soak in the tub, stand after that and get a shower to wash my hair, then I'm goin' to the Giant.
I've put this off so long, the guys are threatening to eat my animals if I don't go SOON. Guess I'd better, huh? I don't know about the Wally-world part of my plan.
And actually, since the store is open 24/7 til Christmas, I find that, right now, I don't even CARE about Wally-world.
I can go there... whenever.
So, I think I will.
I'll go there "whenever" I wake up.
Which'll be a long time after "whenever" I finally get to go to bed. Which, in turn, will be sometime after I get back from Giant and see how much more of Guitar Man wants to come together. *coupla minutes later* Okay.
If I sit here much longer, I'm gonna wind up stiffer'n a pecker packed fulla Viagra and splinted with yard sticks, soooo... I'm gonna go get started on gettin' done. Then, I hafta drive...
*maniacal giggle* Pray, y'all.
For me or the other "licensed drivers" in my area.
Your choice. Back later. Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 03:23 PM | Comments (8) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 18, 2006
Still goin'...
The living room is completely done.
There's only one load of laundry left that I know of. I haven't looked in Jr.'s room yet and, frankly... I'm almost skeert to.
Even after I get everything linked that I want to, I'm gonna go over it a time or two before I post it to make sure I've got it the way I want it to be. Meanwhile, I sat down to smoke a cigarette and while I was here, I added a few more things to my Amazon shopping cart.
I've been using that thing like layaway or something.
I've had CD's "saved for later" for about a month now.
And, just now, I went and added more shit. Then, I remembered something... a suggestion about a wish list... I didn't do much about it then, because I know people have them in their sidebars and, to me, that means messin' with the template which I normally don't do. But... I came up with an alternate idea. I'm making a wish list that consists of everything in the shopping cart and when I'm done, I'm just gonna blogroll the page.
And, I'll make it so it's at the top of the roll, too.
That oughta work. And, thank you Lovey, for the idea...
(You know who ya are. "Robo"blogger... *grin*) And, I forgot one major-pain-in-the-ass thing I need to do... these nails (which I just discovered if you misspell just the right way is something ENTIRELY different).
(Not spelled right, but sounds the same...) I'll get to 'em, but I'm not even gonna guess at "when". Back later... Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 01:16 PM | Comments (9) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
I'm doin' it...
Gittin' it done.
Wally-world wasn't that bad.Not many people there, thank Gawd. Since everybody went to bed, I've gotten some stuff done.
Dishes are done, laundry is started, Gut Rumbles is done and I'm about to start up the cleaning crap on this computer and, while that shit's running, go get crackin' on the cages.
Doing them will lead quite naturally to doing the catboxes that're right there and between the two, having them done will be half the battle.
And, since the first thing I run on this machine takes a year, I'll have time to do the living room real quick, too.
Now that I've gotten all the damned dirty dishes and clothes outta here, there's really not a lot left to do.
Catboxes and vacuum, basically. So, start Adaware.
Zip through living room, start front room, run next program, finish front room, finish computer, do kitchen. And, some time real soon here, I need to run upstairs and throw in another load of clothes... Anyhoo... I'll get this shit, including a trip back to Wally-world and to Giant, done and by then, I'll have the house to myself again, and I'm envisioning a shower, then my freshly washed and dryer sheet-ed flannel jammies, my rabbit slippers, hair in a high ponytail and snuggling into this chair for a good hard push on "Guitar Man". Then, maybe cookies? Lord, give me strength...
Posted by: Stevie at 05:25 AM | Comments (7) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 17, 2006
Well, that didn't happen at all like I'd planned...
The bad news is that I didn't git shit done around here, except sleeping, pretty much.
I took a pseduo-ephedrine and instead of jazzing me up, it took me down.
Much like a tranquilizer-darted, slightly overwhelmed, kinda agitated and prepared to get more pissed bull.
(See, I was gonna be a good kid and do what I know needs to be done and, in return, God was supposed to have Paul get hold of me... *rolls eyes and grins*) But, I died and God was relieved, because He probably doesn't have any idea of where Paul is Himself.
(Yep. Paul's that busy...) So, that was okay.
Falling asleep, I mean.
Besides, it's not like I won't have the whole house to myself all night to do what needs to be done now.
I like that better, anyway.
Trying to get shit done during the day, with people running in and out and shit going on, never works. Plus, Gunsmoke has been on all day and I seem to sleep better when it's on.
To block out noise, I always have a fan running and the TV on.
Still, sometimes, noise gets to me and wakes me up.
When that happens and Gunsmoke is on, it doesn't even bother me.
I hear the music or the voices from Gunsmoke and go right back to sleep.
Then, when I do really wake up, I wake up to it, too.
And, if ya hafta wake the hell up every damned time, there's really nothing better to wake up to.... In other news, I think I only have about a dozen more links to do in "The Guitar Man".
Only bad thing is, the closer to "done" I get, the harder it is to find just the right thing to link to.
I mean, I know what I'm looking for, what I want, but, finding it again is...
*siiigh*
Well, let's put it this way...
Thank God Rob's archives are (is?) one of my favorite-est places to hang out for hours on end. I was talking to Cat last night and damned near every post he mentioned I've seen recently. By the time I get done, I'm gonna be a walking directory of all Rob's posts.
Which is finer than kitten hair with me.
*grin* And, as for the rest of the shit I need to do... fuck "a plan".
Let me just state what I'm wanting the end result of ALL my machinations to be... The house being clean and stocked up again, "The Guitar Man" done and at the top of Xfire and me snuggled into my soft, warm flannel jammies just enjoying the results. See how simple and easy that sounds? Well, I wish it was that simple and easy. "The Guitar Man" is by far the most important of these things to me, for many reasons, not the least of which is that it's about Rob, so MUST be as close to perfect as it can possibly be.
Besides which, it's not something I do every (damned) day, like cleaning the house is, so I want to get it done, yeah, but I also want to do it better than I've done anything else in a while.
Which I am, so far....
So, even though this is my "most important thing", it's also the easiest thing.
And, I already told ya's how "hard" it's getting to be, toward the end...
Still.
Compare that to what I hafta do around here... Such as:
Dishes
Laundry
Cat boxes
All the critter cages (and there are 6 of them to be cleaned, re-bedded and re-furbed)
There's not a single room in this house that doesn't need to be straightened up.
Every single room has shit in it that belongs somewhere the hell else.
Then, there's vacuuming.
Mopping
Going to the grocery store
Putting alla that shit away
Etc. On toppa which, these dipshits want to go to Wally-world tonight.
(Because... I don't have ENOUGH to do already and being in Wally-world with it packed with mouth-breathin' tards like it's sure to be this close to Christmas is always fun... *crosses eyes and mouths "kill me now"*) The only thing I don't need to worry about doing is cooking.
Remember right before Thanksgiving, when the Boss's son's hunting cabin burned down and he didn't do the turkeys and I wound up having to cook a turkey at kinda the last minute? Well, he's doin' 'em now. I woke up to TWO smoked turkeys ("ies" just doesn't look right) in the fridge. So, thank God for that, right? Now, all I need to know is: Are these two turkeys one from Thanksgiving and one for Christmas or two from Thanksgiving, one each for the two guys who live here and work for the Boss?
'Cause, if they're Thanksgiving and Christmas, then I'll need to make something else for Christmas ON Christmas BUT... if they're two, one for each guy AND from Thanksgiving, then that means there'll be two more for Christmas.
Which is how they did it last year.
They gave us one for Thanksgiving, another one for Christmas and, it seemed like, one every week in between and each week til the end of the year.
By the time they got done giving us turkeys last year, we were turkey-ed OUT.
So, this is either just cool unto itself that there are two turkeys in the fridge or it's just the beginning of this year's onslaught. Aaaanyway...
I hear the library callin' my name and I do need to get into some kinda "gear" ("granny" is all that's coming to mind, too) and get shit started, if not done. Back later.... Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 07:40 PM | Comments (9) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Still workin' on it....
And, that applies to several things.
Still workin' on "The Guitar Man".Still workin' on the house.
Still workin' on dealing with my neurosis.
Still workin' on breaking the record for the most consecutive times anyone has ever listened to Def Leppard's "Vault". As for "Guitar Man"...
It's coming along.
If I have it calculated right, there will end up being 40 links.
Or so.
Hence how long it's taking.
Let alone the fact that stupid shit like "life" and "having to sleep and shit" keeps interrupting me... As for the house...
What is the mystical force that drains my energy and channels it into the house becoming messed up faster than I can clean it up?
Christ, man.
Today's the day, though.
For sure this time.
I'm workin' a deal with God about it.
If I do my shit, He hasta do His and make this thing happen for me.
'Cause, if it doesn't, there are things in the air that may cause me to lose my shit beyond all repair without it. I'm just sayin'... As for my neurosis...
It's ingrained, but not necessarily true in all cases.
It's just that it may be in this one.
Looks like it, so far.
And, if it is... no telling what I'll end up doing.
It won't be pretty, whatever it is. As for Def Lep...
Thank You, God.
One more thing (as in: "this makes two") I know I can trust to be there, always.
One more thing (again.... as in:"this makes two") I have to cling to.
Def Leppard and Gut Rumbles.
And, I know Gut Rumbles will always be there and that I can trust that because it's (partly) me doing it and I have no intention of ever stopping or letting it go.
And, I further know I can trust this because Paul is the other "part" keeping Gut Rumbles alive.
And, I know I can trust him...
So, I guess that makes it three then.
Three things I know I can trust and still two to cling to because Paul's been so balls-to-the-wall busy with work shit and whatnot that trying to cling to him would be like trying to cling to the outside of a jet in flight. I'm cool with that. For now. *re-knots rope and digs fingernails in deeply* *tight, totally fake grin* So.
I'm off to work on "Guitar Man" and the house.
Do a little of one, then some of the other, back and forth, til they're both done.
But...
Rob first. Always. Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 07:18 AM | Comments (11) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 15, 2006
Okay man...
I just got the most awesome idea...
The post I just did... it's not done yet. What I want to do to it may take a while, but it's gonna be so good that, when it's done, I'm gonna move it to the top and leave it there for a while.In fact, if it comes out like I want it to, it could be made into a permanant link on my sidebar... Paul...
Like a tribute page.
With links I can change periodically...
Oh man... This is gonna be fun.
This is gonna be good...
Posted by: Stevie at 04:24 PM | Comments (11) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Who draws the crowd and plays so lud, baby it's the guitar man
Who's gonna steal the show, you know baby it's the guitar man
He can make you love, he can make you cry
He will bring you down then he'll get you high
Somethin' keeps him goin' miles and miles a day
To find another place to play. Night after night who treats you right, baby it's the guitar man
Who's on the radio, you go listen to the guitar man
Then he comes to town and you see his face
And you think you might like to take his place
Somethin' keeps him driftin' miles and miles away
Searchin' for the songs to play. Then you listen to the music and you like to play along
You want to get the meaning out of each and every song
Then you find yourself a message and some words
To call your own and take them home. He can make you love, he can get you high
He will bring you down then he'll make you cry
Somethin' keeps him movin' but no one seems to know
What it is that makes him go. Then the lights begin to flicker and the sound is getting dim
The voice begins to falter and the crowds are getting thin
But he never seems to notice he's just got to find
Another place to play, either way got to play
Either way got to play
Posted by: Stevie at 04:07 PM | Comments (11) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 14, 2006
The extra cat is back outside and
Eddie Money is STILL gorgeous.
Posted by: Stevie at 02:43 PM | Comments (10) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
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