Planning Sucks

     As a general rule I never think ahead. I’ve tried and all it gave me was a headache and a feeling of doom. I never know what I’m doing and I’m quite comfy with that. People that look beyond today scare me because they already have worst case scenarios mapped out and want your opinion before it even happens.
     It’s cute but quite frustrating because I just wanna get through today not next week or even next month. All that matters is what happens today. I don’t wanna over think or rationalize anything that I do because I then start to panic. I can usually panic in silence but then I get all itchy and that voice in my head starts screaming at me to abandon ship.
     I may seem like I have all my shit together and handle things extremely well but deep down I’m just as fucked up as everyone else. I just hide it better than most people. I’ve learned that when you second guess yourself you are allowing yourself to make mistakes.
     I approach life in a weird way. I never try and plan anything because once you start planning things go off course. I could plan my entire life and could walk out my front door and get hit by a bus. I wasted more time planning than doing. I don’t want to play it safe. I want to live and not worry about what could happen. Odds are I can’t stop it anyway.
     I’ve learned the hard way that life never goes according to plan. All the planning in the world won’t change anything because there are things out of our control that will alter our course anyway. So I choose to fly by the seat of my pants and whatever happens I’ll deal with as it comes up.
     Sometimes you meet someone and they are totally frustrating because they’re so organized and focused on things that are just beyond your control. What can you do? You just go with it. That’s part of the attraction anyway so all you can do is listen and try to get them to just breath. Listen to what they say because if you even try to change their mind they just over think more.
     Maybe it’s a woman thing. I’ve never encountered it before and as I write this I just want a donut and a cup of coffee. I have no idea what’s going to happen today and I’m ok with that.  I’ll let someone else deal with the worst case scenarios and what ifs.

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What’s The Frequency Kenneth?!

     I had a good laugh today which is awesome. I think we should all laugh heartily at least once a day. We should laugh the kind of laugh that makes you cry, and makes snot shoot from your nostrils. Laughing is good. Hell I laugh at random stuff that I shouldn’t even laugh at but I can’t help it.
     Let’s start this blog off by stating that we’re all adults here right? At least I hope so. The point is that as adults there’s a certain way we need to behave. No one likes a whiny, self absorbed asshole bitch. Can I say that? It is my blog right? So yeah I can say that.
     As adults we’re expected to act a certain way, to talk a certain way. Of course you have those that have the maturity of a retarded baboon so of course they’re still in the kiddie pool wearing Spiderman floaties. These people are scum. Quite frankly they’re pieces of shit that deserve pain and all of the misery that life hoists upon their festering rotted souls.
     Why am I being so mean and hateful? Why would I wish doom and suffering on someone? I’m a super hero. I am El Bastardo. My powers are few but mighty. I wield sarcasm like a fat man dishes ice cream. Well, that’s really all I have.
     I have discovered that I’m becoming an alcoholic. It was news to me. Hell, according to the rotten piece of shit spreading this rumour I’m balls deep in two women. I guess they’re so awesome I need to get hammered drunk before banging them or maybe just maybe I’m too drunk to actually go balls deep.
     If anyone has seen me lately I assure you I’m quite sober and only went out twice and sure I got drunk but I did lose everything I owned in a house fire so I just wanted to go out with some friends and have fun.
     What makes this so amusing is that the person that started this lovely rumour is someone who became jealous that I was able to actually go out and hang out with friends. I stopped seeing her so instead of being an adult and going about her business she’s resorted to slander.
     It doesn’t bother me in the least that people think I’m becoming a drunk. I have never given a damn what people think of me anyway. As adults people should really act like adults and stop talking shit.
     This is why you should never ever believe adults who gossip. Most of it’s bullshit anyway and as adults why the fuck are you gossiping anyway? Does your own life suck that much that you have to go around making shit up about other people?
     This is probably the last blog I’ll write about the worst relationship I’ve ever been involved in. Besides I’m already half drunk and need to hit the titty bar by 10. I could be drunk blogging for all you know. Hitting titty bars while blogging. A stripper could be writing this with her nipples.
     A lesson I learned early in life is that life is filled with people that hate you. They hate you because you’re better than them, and deep down they want to be just like you but they don’t have the balls. So all I can say to those people is fuck you.

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Househunting

     There should be a list for people who are looking at houses to rent. Common sense is great but sometimes common sense doesn’t help when you’re looking at houses. Why should it? Going in the obvious questions filter through as they should but we never think beyond the basics.
     As a rule we general map out where the houses are located because we all now that location is key. How many times do we say it’s all about location? What that means is that at some point you may want to sit outside and if there are bullets whizzing past your head who gives a shit about a nice porch.
     If that happens odds are you picked a bad location. If you watch COPS and recognize your neighbors you picked a bad location. Any family BBQ that is interrupted by gun fire means you screwed the pooch on your choice of housing.
     I like when you tell people where a house is located and they get the squishy face and ask if you’ve lost your mind. They ask if you’ve actually been on that street and odds are between slim and none that you haven’t because you’re going to look at a house there.
     I guess the good indicator of a good neighborhood are the Friday night creep throughs. These reveal a lot about potential neighborhoods. If a grown man is walking down the street butt naked holding only a can of Busch beer you may want to reconsider or at least buy the guy some pants.
     The weekend drive throughs reveal a lot about a neighborhood. Any loud parties or half drunk naked women puking into random bushes indicate that this isn’t a good place to raise kids. If there are parties going on during a work week odds are none of these people work and are just waiting for you to move in so they can rob you because none of these people have any substantial source of income.
     I refuse to live anywhere near woods. I have seen enough horror movies to know that nothing good ever happens, or comes out of the woods. You have lumbering serial killers in hockey masks or inbred hillbillies that are sex crazed and retard strong.
     Woods equals death and there’s no way I’m living near them. I could be on my porch minding my own business and out of the woods comes Jethro and his cousin-wife Elsie looking to carve me up like a Thanksgiving turkey. No way in hell am I even looking at a house that has woods nearby.
     I have no problem living near a cemetary because I don’t really think they’re haunted and they’re peaceful. A friend of mine and I would walk through random cemetaries without any fear and would spend hours looking at various gravestones and statues. The living scare me more than the dead.
     My favorite neighborhoods are the ones that feature pregnant chicks in wife beaters and jogging pants. Their husbands are usually in a lawn chair with a sixpack of beer or the chicks are single and just looking for a baby daddy. Not that I’m offering I just find pregnant chicks in wife beaters and jogging pants hot.
     In these neighborhoods the houses are usually beat to shit, feature an American flag and at least twenty kids. No one knows where these kids came from but they all just showed up one day and refused to leave. This is your redneck/hillbilly neighborhood.
     You’ll need a lot of popcorn living in this neighborhood due to all sorts of crazy shit popping off. Dudes beating their wives, wives beating their husbands, random street brawls caused by some angry beer guzzling hillbilly who just discovered that some dude has been banging his wife.
     The sad thing is that most of the dudes on the street have been dipping their nuggets in her special sauce. Only the smart guys with pop corn are safe because they know exactly how many nuggets were in the guys happy meal so they refused her half hearted advances.
     Then I’ve noticed that there are streets that just defy logic. You have a guy eating pizza on the front porch of a house that was supposed to be empty, a thirteen year old girl pushing a stroller and a creepy guy on a front porch wearing a suit. What the hell are you supposed to do? Just keep driving. This isn’t a street for intelligent hard working people.
     The price of a house is a good indicator of the neighborhood. If a house has six bedrooms and is only going for four hundred it’s a safe bet that you don’t want to live there. Just because people say that they’re cleaning up the neighbourhood doesn’t mean that the surrounding blocks got the memo. If there are more houses that are boarded up than liveable houses it just means more hobos found a place to sleep.
     A boarded up house means that at some point this was the street to get good drugs on. If you move here you never know when somone mistakes your house for the boarded up crack house next door. That’s not a very good welcome to the neighborhood party and crackheads are sneaky. They will steal everything that isn’t nailed down and even try to convince your wife or girlfriend that prostitution is a great second income.
     You have to be careful and choose wisely. If you ever plan on dating you can’t have a hot neighbour. One hot neighbour will lead to arguments later. Do you really want to hear; “You wanna fuck her don’t you.” If you say no you’re a liar and the second the hot neighbour says hi guess what? You’re fucking her.
     The crazy cat lady is a great choice but there are problems there as well. Have you ever heard cats fuck? It’s downright frightening and don’t even think about eating whatever she brings over. Odds are her cats ate some when she wasn’t looking.
     This what I was thinking about today while I was just putzing around. There’s never a list that tells you what certain neighbourhoods are like. It’s a crap shot and if you hate your neighbours or house you’re stuck until the lease is up.
    

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From the mind Spews Mental Vomit

     Growing up I’ve always been a people watcher. It sounds almost creepy when I just say it without explaining it and I guess it does. What exactly do I mean when I say I watch people? Am I looking for victims to drag into my death cellar where they will become my human pets?
     No, that’s not the reason at all and I may have a twisted imagination but that’s just a little too fucked up even for me. I don’t kill people and my people watching is never intentional I swear.
     The first time I became interested in watching people was at Rolling Acres Mall as a kid and I was on a bench just relaxing when I saw a woman coming out of a store with purpose. I could tell she was pissed just by her body language alone, and soon after some dude came out holding what I assumed were her purchases.
      What intrigued me was just how angry she was. He’d tried to grab her arm, she’d shrug it off and he’d gesticulate like most guys would. She was embarrassing him yet he wasn’t going to make a scene so he followed like a puppy who had shit on the carpet and wanted some sort of attention from its owner.
     I was hooked and even now I’ll sit outside just waiting for shit to pop off. Fights, lonliness, despair, it’s all in how we carry ourselves. We may want to hide how we feel yet our body language always gives us away. I love a good argument when no words are spoken.
     People for some reason are always giving away too much information about themselves and try a bit too hard to be liked. I don’t know why some people feel compelled to tell you that their cat ate a bunch of beans and its asshole exploded. I just met this person and within five minutes I get the asshole story. That’s not right and that story should not be a topic of conversation for anyone.
One of the things I learned from observing people is that there is that desire to be liked by everyone which breaks off Individuality. Instead of being comfortable in their own skin they become like sheep and conform to others standards and have none of their own.
Through reading and observing I splintered off from the desire to be like everyone else and formed my opinions and views which created a variety of problems. Once you splinter off and become comfortable with yourself it offends people. No one understands why there’s a desire to be singular and not a sheep.
Being a loner wasn’t a choice I ever made. It just made sense because I had accepted that I was who I was and no one was going to mold me into who they thought I should be. It took me a long time to discover who I was. I took pieces from others, and ideas from various books I had read and become myself. Never had I compromised and I think that scared people.
I was above the cliques and the ideologies that permeated my youth. That splintering enabled me to be an adult without clutching onto the same mentality I had carried around as a child. I knew the world around me was a scary place and that people for the most part are going to use you for a variety of reasons.
By splintering and forming my own opinions and ideas I grew accustomed to not trusting anyone. I saw how trust can be used against you so I avoided it. I never had many friends and I choose that because friendship to me had always been a burden. I just can’t be that open with anyone.
I urge everyone to think for themselves and to not be scared that having their own opinion is going to somehow offend someone. We can’t be like sheep and follow the herd. When you follow the herd you have a greater risk of dying.
When I decided to blog I thought hell why not? It’d be fun but of course you always have that fear that somehow somone is going to get offended or not even read what you’ve written. It doesn’t matter. If you write what you’re thinking and just allow the voices in your head to guide you it all works out in the end.
Have I learned anything from my splintering? Of course I have. Trust isn’t always a bad thing and if you have to second guess anything it’s not worth doing. I also have learned through a variety of tragedies that you do survive and in that survival comes a harder shell.
We can never ever just give up. If you give up you’ve allowed that situation to win. The most fun you can have is by proving everyone wrong. They say you can’t and I say sure I can and by the way, fuck you for not believing in me.

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The fishbowl

     I figure after the hypothetical blog I should follow it up with something else but I got nothin’. I’m not Dr fuck Phil so I can’t give relationship advice and even if I could the question is should you even take it? Odds are that you shouldn’t for a variety of reasons. I can go into them but why embarrass myself?
     Relationships are strange and no matter how much you want to avoid them it’s impossible. No matter how much you try and avoid for falling for someone sometimes a look or even a touch will spark something and before you know it you’re crazy about someone.
      You can’t prevent falling for someone especially when she’s wearing your favorite shirt. I have never planned on dating anyone after my wife and I seperated but I dated two women and one just won’t take the hint and go away. Now I’m just bouncing along trying to sort out who I am and writing these blogs because therapy is too expensive.
      I have learned a lot about myself and despite the brokenness I feel I have realized that I have zero will power which sucks because I used to have tons of it and suddenly it’s all gone. The funny thing is that I know exactly what happened to it.
      I always assumed that for the most part when you tell a woman that it’s over they usually get it. They may feel hurt and rejected but at some point they get it. The calls stop and life slowly goes back to normal. Unless of course you’re me then shit never goes according to plan.
     Things happen that aren’t supposed to happen and in my world ex-girlfriends don’t go the fuck away. They invent boyfriends and get jelous because they assume you’re balls deep in your best friend just because your best friend just happens to be a very hot woman. They send texts that make zero sense and have you scratching your head in total confusion.
     My life has never ever taken a straight course and I don’t understand what happened. How did I end up with a crazy ex-girlfriend that can’t take a fucking hint? Shit, whatever happened to chicks that just went away when they were dismissed? Fucking hell I like my women opinionated and strong willed not fucking crazy.
     When I wrote the hypothetical blog I had no idea that people would try and get me to say it wasn’t bullshit. It cracked me up because it drove people batshit crazy and that in itself was the intention.
     Was it even hypothetical? there are only two people that know the answer. Yep do the math people. They ain’t talking so I guess the issue is closed so now I once again drove everyone batshit crazy and y’all ain’t getting an answer from me.
     I know my Facebook is going to explode tomorrow but I have a date with Zombie dog and staying away from you people. You’re questions hurt my head and all I’m going to do is avoid the question. I would make a great politician. Accept the blog as a glimpse at a life that never makes sense.
     I can’t pretend to be a guy that has all the answers or even pretend that I have my shit togehter because I don’t. This blog is who I am. It’s balls out, full tilt chaos and I’m taking all of you along for the ride.
    
    

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Moving slowly forward

      Elton John said that sorry seems to be the hardest word to say but I say screw Elton John, screw him in his fruity booty. He’s right though. Aside from I love you sorry is the word we want to hear more than any other word in the English language. People actually wait their entire lives to hear it only to die waiting.
     We as humans need to have confirmation that someone has done wrong so sorry is the only word that’ll fix it. Even a half ass sorry will sometimes work because all we wanted was some sort of acknowledgment that someone made a mistake or wronged us.
     My thing was that an apology was neccessary for me to move forward. I was realistic in dealing with the sad fact that I may never get it but I was ok with that. Problem was how could I resolve all the issues I was dealing with if I never got what I so desperately needed?
     I had no answers because I was so confused with all of these conflicting emotions. Extreme hatred, sadness, betrayal. You name it and I’ve felt it and in some instances within the space of a few minutes. It sucks but when you take a look at what I’ve been through it’s perfectly normal.
     When you stop feeling that’s when you have a problem. I just felt a little too much and at times I wished I were numb but every morning I’d wake up and I’d be depressed and then sad and then pissed off again so I knew I was ok. I didn’t need therapy just time to sort through who the hell I was.
     When my ex-wife told me that our son wanted me to call him I couldn’t breath for a minute. I had decided that I needed to see him but talking to him on the phone truly brought out all those feelings and I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say. There was so much and damn if I wasn’t pissed off again.
     Making that phone call was difficult because I wanted to hear two words, just two words but what if I didn’t hear them? Have you ever wanted something so badly that the anxiety tickles both your feet? That’s exactly how I felt as I dialed that number. I prayed for my phone to catch fire or maybe a choking baby would suddenly appear so I didn’t have to make that call.
     A month is a long time especially when my son’s in the Orienna house for arson and I’m slowly trying to make sense of it all. Neither of us are the same people we once were but this is who we are. We’re both a bit broken and unsure of where we stand with one another. Sadly, this could have been avoided but this our reality.
     As we talked I got what I wanted. The words I’m sorry lifted all of that anger and bitterness and I knew that I could now begin to heal. I may never forgive him but at least I got some closure. I’m still hurt and heart broken but those words sounded so good to me.
     When he said he didn’t want me to be angry at him anymore I started crying because I suddenly understood that we both needed something. It wasn’t until I started writing this that I realized what that was. While I was shattered and angry, and bitter he was afraid that he had lost his father. He needed to know that I still loved him and that at some point I’d visit him.
      He may be an adult but at the same time he’s just a scared little boy that needs his father. I don’t think he understands the full impact of what he’s done but life is full of surprises. I needed an apology and he needed to know that I didn’t hate him. We both needed something and we each got what we wanted.
     Life is full of moments that either break us or strengthen us. I know that each day it does get easier but how can I expect anyone to help put me back together. I’m learning that there are these amazing moments that I wish I could hold onto and make last longer because it reminds me that despite all the pain and heartache I can be happy.
     I like being happy. Maybe I’m not so broken after all. Maybe there’s still a small piece of the old me buried under all this bitterness and anger. Happy is good, real good.

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A hypothetical blog

     I wanted to write a truly postitive happy blog because I haven’t exactly been the most cheerful person lately. Some would say I’m a tad sarcastic, maybe even a bit bitter and I totally agree. In my wallet you may find a lifetime membership card to the bitter bastard society.
     So for just a moment let’s just try and think positive. I got a brain pain just trying but I think I got this. Let’s just do a hypothetical blog that’s sure to confuse and astound people. I like confusing people it keeps life interesting and fun.
     Let’s look for a second past all the anger and bitterness for a moment. That’s another issue entirely and not one I’m ready to tackle. I’m kind of digging the anger bridge and don’t wanna give up my spot just yet. So what’s left to explore?
     Dating. Sure let’s look at that for a second. I can already see eyebrows arching and that confuzzled look crossing everyone’s face. I was vicious about love and relationships but just hypothetically speaking what if it was all just bullshit to cover up the fact that I’m totally crazy about someone?
     What if I wanted to block out the way I felt because I just didn’t want her to know that whenever I’m around her life makes total sense. No matter how much I tried to avoid it all she had to do was look at me, or giggle and I was reminded that no matter who I dated it wouldn’t feel the same as when I’m with her.
      Instead of dealing with it I do what I always do which is ignore it. I became so used to being pissed off and angry it just made sense to bury the one thing that made getting out of bed possible. Hearing her voice could eradicate a shitty day and was a reminder that not all women are certifiably insane.
      Keep in mind that this is all hypothetical and could be total bullshit but I think it is possible to find someone that makes the insanity that is our life more tolerable. She could be out there right now. Is there a perfect woman? Fuck I don’t know, but hpothetically speaking my perfect woman is extremely intelligent, she’s sarcastic as fuck, stubborn, but she’s real. She has no filter between her brain and her mouth and I admire that about her.
     The perfect woman would have to be quite brave to deal with me because I’m a fucking mess, but when I’m around her I feel more together than I have in a long time and there’s no one else I’d rather be with. Bear in mind this is all hypothetical. I’m going to finish this blog and instead of absorbing sappy love songs I’ll be listening to Five Finger Death Punch while all of you try to figure out what the hell I just wrote.
     It’s all hypothetical. I refuse to go soft. So the next blog won’t be so warm and fuzzy. It just felt good to imagine a world where the possibility of love actually exists and maybe it isn’t love at all but we’ll never know because this was all hypothetical anyway. I can honestly say that when you truly care about someone there are no guarantees that it’ll work. You just go with it and hope for the best.

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