Just So You Know. . .

It is quite possible that there is not one single person on the entire planet more masculine than me. Well, it is possible that a half-shaven soldier standing in a desert in Iraq, holding an automatic weapon, smoking a cigarette is a little more manly. Also, a fireman, that just saved an entire family from a burning building, and responds to the frantic mother, "I'm just doing my job ma'am." That guy, I can't compete. The cowboy who spent all day ranching (or whatever modern-day cowboys do) and comes in for the night telling how he just helped birth a calf. That guy is a bad-ass. Whatever, you get the point. I am more manly than most, and for one reason. Allow me to elaborate:

Last night I went to get a beer. I have a second refrigerator in my garage. It is not one of those puny, dorm room sized, refrigerators. It is a regular, big ass, refrigerator. In the freezer, I keep only ice, chilled beer mugs, and liquor. In the regular refrigerator part I keep beer. I have every different kind I like. So, I went to get a beer about 7:30 pm. (I'm telling you the time to give you a sense of mood and setting - I am a great story teller - what can I say) I got a Corona out, and reached for the bottle cap opener that I keep on top of the fridge. It had somehow gone missing.

I want you all to know that a lesser man would have panicked in such a situation. However, I kept my cool. I went to my make-shift tool bench and pulled out a pair of needle nose pliers. I grabbed hold of that bottle cap, and ripped it from the bottle with a pair of pliers. At that moment I became a complete man. I found the bottle opener this morning, but think I am going to keep opening my beer bottles with the pliers. Now, all I have to do is get a girl to observe the opening, and I'll be set. Because that is the kind of thing that turns women on - beer and tools.

Working

It is 11:32 on Sunday night, and I am working. What is the world coming to? This isn't my life. What have I done to deserve this?

In happier news: I just created a Playlist I called "Uncle Tupelo and Its Progeny". It contains 236 tracks of Uncle Tupelo, Jeff Tweedy, Jay Farrar, Wilco , Son Volt and Loose Fur.

Remember the book that begins: "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was formless and empty, and darkness covered the deep waters. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the surface of the waters." I think that Chapter ends: "Then God looked over all he had made, and he saw that it was very good! And evening passed and morning came, marking the sixth day." My Playlist is about like that. Upon its completion I looked at my iPod and said, "This is good! Look at what I have created!" I know I didn't actually write the lyrics, or compose any music, or do anything creative, but I did organize some songs that I like into a neat list so I can play them in an order that pleases me.

Three things:

1) If you don't know who those bands/artists are, go look them up and then you can be cool too.

2) I know that screwing around with my iPod and blogging is not really working. So, I am procrastinating. Screw you for judging me.

3) Did that sentence in the Bible begin with the word 'and'? Am I missing something? I thought that was a no-no. You would think a book like the Bible could get the grammar correct. I blame those Gutenberg people.

Okay people. Remember - it is not about who you are on the outside. It is about who you are on the inside.

BACK BY POPULAR DEMAND!

As you can tell from the many, many, many comments below, people have missed me and have been begging for me to write. I have been getting, literally, hundreds of e-mails and comments from people asking when I am going to post again. When New York Times reporter, David E. Sanger, texted me saying, “Dude, WTF?” I knew I needed to get off my ass and do something. Well folks, let me just say that “I am sorry.” I have let you down. I know you are disappointed in me, but really you should just get used to the feeling. I let people down all the time. More often that not really. Eight months ago when I asked my friends, family and ex-lovers to use one word to describe me, I most often got “unsatisfactory” (especially in the ex-lover department). I also got “douchebag,” “fuck face,” “tool” and “cunt.” Although I got to point out to my dear sister that “fuck face” is two words, and I had to sternly tell my grandfather I never, ever condone the use of the “C word.”

My sabbatical (by the numbers - as they say in the industry)
17th - the last time I had a post
26th (of September) - the last time I had a post that was any good.
10 - number of days I have taken off work since the 17th.
9 - number of days I spent off work doing nothing but watching daytime TV and porn.
28 (give or take a couple) - number of times I have masturbated since the 17th.
4 - number of times I masturbated looking at Britney’s bald box.
6 - number of pounds I have gained (apparently masturbation does not burn that many calories).
4 - number of large pizzas delivered to my house.
1 - days at work since the return form my vacation that I have spent actually doing work.
5 - number of days at work since the return from my vacation that I looked really busy at work (including today).
4 - number of women I flirted with at the video store/grocery store.
4 - number of women that looked at me like I was Charles Manson when I flirted with them at the video store/grocery store.

There you have it. What I Did with My Time Off . . . by Garrett Reid. (Forward by Garrett Reid).

Here is the deal (my excuse). I took two weeks off of work. The week of Thanksgiving and the following week. I came back to work this week. I didn’t tell you that I was going to be gone, well, because I am lazy and I forgot to. I didn’t blog while I was off work because I am lazy and I was on vacation. About day four I decided I needed to write something. After that much time away I thought I should write something really good and really funny. However, I couldn’t think of anything really good and really funny. So I didn’t write. Time continued to pass and I still kept thinking the post had to be bigger and better since even more time had passed. Then guilt started to set in. I didn’t read my blog e-mail. I didn’t look at site meter. I didn’t really read anyone else’s blogs. All because I felt guilt when I did so.

See how much I love you. I felt as if I was betraying you, and so I turned my back on you. That is true fucking love. I loved you so much that I ignored you. You should appreciate that. You should love me more. You should send me nude photos as a result of how much I love you.

As you can see, I eventually gave up on the idea that this post should be really funny and awesome. I opted instead for - just write a bunch of stuff and tell people they should love you.

Maybe I should try and do better. However, in my defense, naked breast pictures would have really motivated me. So this is really all your fault.