Me and my Monkey love my wife and hang with Jesus

Actually, and truthfully, I have always loved the woman that is my wife... I am sure I have told ya'll about this a couple times, but maybe I didn't have the time and didn't REALLY tell you about it.  Now I don't really think this part is insane, at least not in the greatest sense of the word...
Now, I will say, that I have this long standing belief, which I have mentioned to anyone who will listen, that I am severely retarded, and don't realize it.  It is like, how would you know, right?  Really, you are just living your life, in your own special way, and things in life happen that you take for granted, and in reality they are special assistance programs or something.  Like the things that you do that you struggle with, either physically or intellectually, are not really all that, nothing that a normal, non retarded person couldn't do without much struggle, except they get to go home and talk about the retard that they had to follow up behind and fix his shit and shit... and so you stumble through life and all it's difficulties, but they really aren't that bad, you just don't know any better.  Because you are mental, you know.  And you work with a bunch of retards (durrr) because, you know, they group you all together, so all these high tech jobs are not really all that high tech and there are actually smarter people behind the scenes that you don't see or recognize, that get all the real hard shit done, but they do it without any struggles...
Where was I going with this?  Uh, I have loved my wife since I first layed eyes on her... I think I was trying to break out back then.  I was barefoot (still am), had stopped wearing underwear, was wearing a flannel shirt/coat deal, baseball cap on backwards with the word LONO written on the brim... Uh, I was on campus at the local community college and didn't know what the fuck I was doing.  I was either in or had just gotten out of a relationship into a crappy relationship and didn't have a job and didn't really know why I was going to college except that I was hoping somewhere along the line something would just friggin' click and I would suddenly be an adult and not a retard or something...  Somewhere in there I had made friends with a band of misfits, and I was talking to one of them in class one day, and he had just shaved his head, but done a really crappy job, there was blood and stray bits of hair still sticking outta his head and it was kinda freaky and I was all trying to talk to him without discussing his head and somehow we discovered that we were both applying to this liberal arts college down the way, and Hey, there was this chick up in the bookstore that was too.  I should go say hi to her or something... I can't remember but do know it was his suggestion.  So I did, and there was this AWESOME chick behind the counter and she was everything I would ever want from a girl on a completely first glance kinda superficial way, you know, and I remember walking through the store killing time and checking her out and finally found something to buy without anyone else in line and I went up there and said Hi and told her I was applying to the same college and I knew this dude that knew her and she totally blew me off.
I probably looked like hell.  I have a history of that, throughout my life.  Never could really find a style or haircut or clothes that really did anything for me... I stick with faded jeans and white t-shirts where I can anymore.
Anyhow, I got her scent, you dig.  I could sense her around campus.  I would see her walking here and there, and being the cute little pitiful retard that I was, I would go in and say Hey to her every once in a while in the bookstore.  I had a girlfriend (so to speak) at the time and welcomed the time away from her and looked forward to having normal conversations with normal people, so I took my changes where I could.
I remember I had this one class, astronomy I believe, and I had a friend that was in the class and we would sit together, and this hot ass chick would come walking in and I was mesmerized and I would point out her beauty to this other dude, and he said something crude once and I was all like, HEY... don't talk about my future wife that way you dickhead.  I remember making my way up to where she usually sat so I could try and sit closer to her... I also remember having her in this first aid class and watching her due mouth to mouth on the resucitator doll and being completely hot and bothered by it.
I think by this time we were on a somewhat civil course, and I mentioned I would try to find her down at the other college... and then she was gone.
And I moved on down there, with my girlfriend, and met another chick at this restaurant that was much cooler than my girlfriend, but not as cool as my future wife, and I told her that she was my number 3, cause, you know, my future wife was my number one and I couldn't wait for her to get down there, but my current girlfriend was my number 2 since she was paying rent, so this other chick could be my number 3 and if all hell broke loose move on up to number one.  She seemed to enjoy this idea and would do things to try and move  up in the rankings, except she talked a LOT... I don't remember her name...
I do remember it was a long summer, and my girlfriend was driving me NUTS and I wanted her to die or at least go away... and I escaped one afternoon and was walking on campus and I remember thinking that she would be there any day, you know, and I wonder where she would be and damn, there were a bunch of cool hippie dudes down there that I would love to punch, but maybe that's what the girls go for down there... anyhow, I was walking across campus when all of a fucking sudden I heard someone calling my name and I looked up and there was my angel.  Holy Shit she looked good, and she was calling me up and was offering me a beer and she had short shorts on and she was awesome and beautiful and I wanted to fall into her arms and let her use her angelic wings to fly me to someplace happy and safe...  We had a beer and it was good.
We were friends based on not really knowing anyone down there and having the same class and I am not sure there was much more to it from her end than that, at first... but we hung out and I was sprung on her and started writing poetry that was about her and obviously not about my girlfriend, and I actually got advice of some sort from her and her roommates on how to dump my girlfriend, which I finally did, and I am not sure when it happened, I think it was a bit before I was officially broken up with my girlfriend that I was hanging out with my future lady, and we were having a good time talking and drinking and smoking and I gave her a mint and said something retarded about how our lips were so close, and we finally kissed... and I never looked back.  It was great, it was fantstic... it was the future.
My monkey was in full affect at that point, I think.  I had like 3 jobs at once, was half assing my way through classes and doing my own thing.  Somewhere in there we expressed love for one another and spent time getting high and playing nintendo.  Somewhere in there she tried to break up with me, and I don't really remember much about the reason, because I try not to think too hard about it, but I remember scrambling and coming up with some sort of something and she stuck with me.  We went home together, she met my friends, and I met her friends, we met each others parents and it seemed so sweet and real and cool, you know...
Shoot, I'm going somewhere with this... I think it was just so easy, beautiful.  We didn't really fight although maybe we should have.  We survived on the edge of poverty.  She exposed me to so many new things, it was like a whole new world opening up.  We were living together, of course, and her parents approved.  I loved her and asked her to marry me and she said yes.  We had a beautiful wedding, which we both agree we would do totally different if we could do it all over again.  We went on a honeymoon and settled into life.
All I ever wanted was to make her happy.  I thought it was my job to do so... Not that I had to suffer to do it, but I thought I had to do things so she wouldn't have to, that I would carry us so she wouldn't have to worry about it, and I supressed my monkey to do this.  It was not so obvious at first, but it became obvious as we went along...  I was not the same guy, and she was not the same girl, but I still loved her more than anything...  Then we had babies so obviously I had to be the rock... and she had to be the rock... and we were starting to go through the motions, you know.  We lost each other a bit, although we were always there for each other and presented a unified front.  But there was less effort.  I felt like there was something more I should be doing, but I was so tired, and often, so drunk...  Being drunk made it better, it was an outlet and all we really had, and it was fun at times... but not like it had been fun before.
I realize now that I felt like I was failing her somehow.  HOW???  I thought I was doing all the things that a grown up man with a wife and kids was supposed to do... and I was tired from doing it, and yet I felt there was something that I should be doing.  So I chose to be paranoid, and disgruntled (a bit) and internalized it, except when there was something really stupid to externalize it over... Bins or something... there were a few other things, I think.  It's all hazy.  I remember not feeling comfortable and going to the doctor and getting put on this drug then that drug then going crazy mental and stopping those drugs and going on some other drugs and then... and then... there was always that, hazing my mind, making it seem not so bad, but it was taking more and more to create that haze... Vodka and Vicodin... can really make life... interesting, I suppose.
Always in there, no matter what I was doing, and how crazy I was making myself, or disgruntled I was making myself from outside influences, I always maintained this bright burning fucking fire in my heart for her.  A big ole bonefire (heh, bonefire) of love and lust for her.  She has always been and continues to be the most beautiful woman I know and I look for happiness in her eyes and smile.  How's that for a heavy load to throw on someone.  How can anyone feel comfortable being worshipped that way.  I suppose it isn't really fair, but it was all I had, you know, and it was what I wanted, to some degree.  It was better than anything else in my life (excluding my kids).
This is the part where I feel like a retard, and we are both retarded, and we are taking care of each other as best we can...  I think it might be harder on her as I can't think of anything I really like to do, although I recognize (now) that I have often been a stick in the mud.  I imagine the normal people looking in on us and thinking that it is a little bit cute, but they would never live that way, but we're retards, so what do we know, you know...
I have been learning, lately, a lot about myself, and giving the monkey the key to the cage... I feel a bit disgruntled, a bit paranoid, a bit sorry to her and for myself... and mostly confused.
You know how you go through life, and you are always told 2 + 2 = 4?  And so you believe it for so long, and one day you are sitting there and someone tells you that 2 + 2 does not equal 4, never has, never will and why do you think it ever had?  And you have to believe them because there is nothing left to believe... but you can't forget how you always believed the answer was 4, and now that it isn't and never has been, what are you supposed to do?  What other equations don't compute?  What else have you been missing because you were so misguided?  What else does the world really mean?  How the fuck are you supposed to roll with that???
Ahhh... but it isn't really that big, is it?  It's just a little thing, a little something something that really doesn't mean a lot, right?  Just a turn of the head, a slight change in course.  The destination is the same, and maybe it's not all rainbows and unicorns, and the path is just to the left of where you thought it was, but you are still on the path together, right?  So what's the big deal?  What's the big deal?
That's what I keep asking myself... I am growing... Oh, my, how I am growing.  Like a lizard or snake or something, it is just the pain of shedding my old skin.  God, I can't wait to get rid of that old skin...
I been talking to Jesus about it.  For real.  And he talks back.  Part of me thinks this is a little crazy, but part of me wonders why I hadn't talked to him before.  I asked him about the Buddha... and he said that the Buddha is cool, and it is fine to find the light within yourself, but you know, sometimes you need a little love and maybe a nice hug.  Wow... and he said that thing about looking for demons around corners, and inventing corners to look for demons around, and suggested that maybe the path I want to take shouldn't have any corners... I like that.
So Jesus, when I see him... Well, the first time I saw him, he was wearing board shorts and a button up shirt that wasn't buttoned all the way and didn't have a beard, and had nice hair.  We just sat and talked, and speaking with someone that doesn't believe, they might say that I was just talking to myself, but you know, I never made that much sense.  And I sat there, next to him, and he smiled at me and told me it was true, that he accepted me and loved me and sure, I might be a fuck up sometimes, but shit happens (he actually said that) and he still loves me and it's all cool, just be there and feel the love.  I am getting there.
I call him Dude, and he is cool with it.  Sometimes I call him Jebus, and he is fine with that... he thinks it's kinda funny.  He doesn't appreciate Metallica, but doesn't mind some good metal (I asked him).  He doesn't have a single favorite, it is all his favorite.
And sometimes I say, Jesus, what about this, or what about that, and he sometimes says, you know, that ain't your problem... and he says, I can help you with you, I can't help you with anything else.
We were talking in a clearing once, walking in circles and not talking because you don't always need to talk, sometimes you just need to be quiet.  Anyway we decided to build a fire, and so I started trying to figure out where to find some wood for a fire and he laughed, and he was all like, does it help you to try and imagine the details like that?  How about if I just start a fire, right here... or would you like to think about building a house and all the steps and issues that go along with building a house?  He was right, I was getting caught up in the details.  So he started a fire and we sat there and we drank a beer together, and he was drinking budweiser, and I was all like, budweiser, and he said he liked the can, thought it was cool, so he drank bud, no big deal...
I talked with him another time and he was wearing jeans and another shirt with buttons down the front that weren't all buttoned... I can't remember what we talked about completely, but we sat by the fire and he brought my wife up to sit next to me, and we just sat there in love and watching the fire and not talking...
Oh, there are other times, moments, where he will ask me if I am making the right decisions or getting off track and I will listen to him, and sometimes I decide he is right and stop what I am doing, and other times I don't, and he loves me just the same.  He recognizes that I have a howler monkey that I have dealings with, and he is cool with that too.  He wants me to be happy, to be free, and to be happy and free with other people, and as long as I don't do it like an asshole it will make others feel happy and free also... and that is what it is all about.  All about me, apparently.
It still makes me nervous, scared, anxious, paranoid, jealous... shoot, what are the other traits that people usually hate in other people?  Add those in there and put my face on it...

No Title

I gotta keep it real, transparent, you know... I want my life to be an open book with no secrets from anyone. I don't want the shit to go down one day and have anyone say that they never saw it coming, or they didn't know I had it in me, or that they just didn't know...
Some people would be frightened by this, maybe see it as a lack of personal identity, but au contrairie mon frair... Dude, it is so much like opening a map of the united states, a big ass map... I mean, you know, there it all is, right there in front of you, all of it, but the details, dude, it's the detail you get lost in... That... That is how I wanna roll...
And I wanted to tell you, I was gonna kiss this girl in the parking garage here on the 1100 block of wherever the hell I am... I was gonna kiss her and make her my secret Canadian Girlfriend. We would kiss, oh so sweet, just me and her, in the shadow of the viaduct. We would hold hands and talk about the Tragically Hip. Talk about how fantastic Hockey is but secretly admit too each other that we don't really watch hockey or know who is really good right now. I would talk about how I always wanted to be Canadian and she would tell me how great it is to BE Canadian... It was gonna be all hush hush, you know, 'cause I got me a wife and she gots herself a boyfriend she's been with for a long time but it doesn't really seem to be progressing.
But you know, the problem with this is that she doesn't really exist, not at all... there ain't no secret Canadian girlfriend, only an imaginary secret Canadian girlfriend... which is actually perfect, because I have a feeling she was going to start getting a little clingy, maybe a little crazy and could have concievabley started calling my house and hanging up or generally threatening my marriage... goddamn psycho imaginary secrect Canadian girlfriend!!!
I never wanted the world from her, just a little lunchtime diversion, why'd she have to cross that line...
So I had to nip it in the bud, stop it before it started... So I just stopped and you know, didn't imagine her... it was a clean break... better for both of us...
It is sad, kinda, really, you know... I was going to have this conversation in a more intimate surrounding, hanging out, cuddlin' on the couch with some cute long haired Chinese boy with a ponytail and smooth hairless back... but you know, you can accidentally maybe bump legs while you're sitting on the couch, touch feet under the table, just for a second, until you realize it's not the table leg, but you can't cuddle on the couch, really, you can't, no matter how good a friends you are... Dude, not even if you are gay... For serious, if you are a couple of dudes, and you are cuddlin' on the couch (or perhaps a nice puffy pappasan chair) you have to be in a relationship... committed or about to be committed... you can't just chill and kinda lean into your buddy and kinda do that thing with your fingers where they intertwine/rub and its all cool... not around here, no way... it ain't done, and it can't be done... and it is a shame... no scary movies, no tender moments where you are being all emotional and shit and just need to be held...
Because, if you do, eventually you are gonna end up bumpin cocks, or peein together and crossin' streams like in ghost busters and think it's really fuckin funny...
Sigh, you know, it's just that I am gettin' tired of this... I love my job, you know, but I hate it... I hate it, hate it, hate it... but it ain't so much that I hate my job as much as I wish I was doing something different... Something like beating through the deep bush, spanking monkeys and eating exotic fruits... Something that me and my old lady could do together... I always wanted to be one of those dudes... shoot, what are they called, not missionaries... Peace Corps, yeah, wanted to be one of those dudes in the Peace Corps, going exotic places and showing the aboriginals how to bath and build bridges and shit... cover up their secret parts, you know... someplace exotic like Finlandia or Turkey... someplace with a beach and bamboo or something, make one of those swiss family Robinson kinda showers and get malaria because I was having sex on the banks of some river and a mosquito bit me on the ass... You know what I mean, really make a difference in the world... and get mud spackled in the crack of my ass... stuff like that...
I look out the window here and think about this all the time... I have even done research, but apparently you need skills or something, something beyond just the desire to help people and have sex on beaches or banks of rivers or something...
You know, I would settle for just being able to go sit in a bar and smoke... Yeah yeah yeah, I said it... perhaps it makes me a hipocrite, or a psychopath or something, but I would like nothing better to go and sit in a bar, with a pitcher of beer and maybe a shot of something or other, playing darts and smoking... for hours on end...
Or dude, sit outside on the stoop, outside a party, and have a couple smokes while you spend some time catching up with someone you haven't seen in a while, or someone you just met and may not have anything much in common with except the desire to go outside and have a smoke and have someone to talk to while you do it...
I mean, it is probably not as great as I remember, but then, it probably is... sitting down for a cup of coffee and a smoke to jump start my heart... it sounds fantastic...
How's all that for transparent, eh? You know, my secret Canadian Girlfriend, she would be about 5'6" and look pretty much like my wife, except blond and medium length permed or wavy hair... I mean, really, if I were to imagine her, it would really just be my wife that I was sneaking off into the parking garage with and secretly kissing and hoping that my wife wouldn't find out. It's complicated, but really... How could I resist? and she's a good kisser and has a super butt...

I love my old lady

Ahh,
You know, my wife is the greatest woman in the world. Sorry all you other ladies out there, you all come in a distant second. Hope that doesn't hurt.
Let me tell you, she got this new swimsuit last week, you know, to wear down at the pool with the girls, and I was coming home from work the other day and I figured they would be down there, so I stopped by on my way home... I was up where I could look down on the pool from above and first I saw the girls splashing around and then I looked over and there was my old lady all layed out gettin some sun and let me tell you she looked HAWT!!! For real. I stared at her butt and thought how lucky I was that I was able to check out the lady I have been with for the last 12 plus years and still admire her fine tush...
And Dude, Saturday we went to Value Village 'cause she had to find herself a spring formal type dress for their concert. She was pokin' around and found this dress, you know, and I didn't think much of it. It is kinda slate or seafoam or something, I don't know... and it cost $20 so I was all good with it, but really, I didn't think much of it, randomly thought that it was just going to be a dress... but man, we got home and she was all like: Who wants to see me in my dress? and the girls all shouted. So she went and put it on and when then she came out... First I saw her face and she was all glowing and proud, then I checked her out and it was like BAM!!! Whoaaa... Hot hot hot... It fit her sooooo well... I tell you, I got all fluttery... tingly... It was one of those dresses that dudes look at and first they think, damn, she looks hot, then they think, damn, that dress would look great crumpled on the floor... I can't wait to see her in it again...
So yeah, my wife is a looker and I feel like I got really lucky in that way... but you know what??? She is so much more than that... she puts up with what I consider a lot of crap from me. See, I can be pretty mental at times. I know, I know, hard to believe, but it is true. I tend to imagine things, in my head, that have very little basis in reality. Want an example? Ok, so I was outside the other night, enjoying the night, and I thought how it would suck if I got locked out, and I would have to go and knock on the window and damn I would be pissed if I was in the bedroom and some dude came knocking on the window for my wife, and HEY, I remember this time that I knocked on my friends door when I was like 10 and his mom answered and I got all flustered for some reason and asked if my friend could play and how stupid that was cause I was 10 and you don't ask if people can play when you are 10 and oh yeah, I remember walking into their house once because I forgot to knock and they were eating dinner and I was all embarrassed and left and I hope I don't get locked out because then my wife would think I was the biggest dork in the world.
Yeah, that thought process took about 10 seconds... and sometimes it gets really funky... and you know, she just kinda flows with it. She actually tells me it is cute and flavorful. She has oodles of patience and charm and a crapload of skill. She can cook like a mf'er, plays the piano like an angel, she sings in the shower, she takes care of business at church and school, she is probably gonna get a full ride at some college to be named later, she smiles at me, she is a fantastic mother, she is soft and strong and has a great butt... did I mention she has a great butt??? She pays the bills... uhh, dude, I could sit here all day and tell you about the way she used to turn her head and smile at me, or the way she would watch my mouth move when I talked... or the time I was taking a shower with her mom and her dad joined us... but it would not do justice...
I think that I am lucky that after all this time, 2 kids, trips to North Dakota, and all that stuff, that I still get a charge from my wife walking into the room... That I still want to check her out when she is walking up stairs in front of me... and I still find a reason to poke my head into the bathroom when she is in the shower just so I can try and get a peek... I love her super duper...
Oh, and I didn't do anything stupid that is making me say these things to try and make it up to her, I just find her fantastic...
And this is much better than the post I was going to make about how I shave my nuts every Saturday, just to keep them smooth... yeah...

...center of the known universe is in my crotch

So I was sitting on the couch last night, minding my own business, watching Alton Brown, since it was around 7pm. My old lady came and sat down next to me. It was nice. I believe I said something wildly entertaining about jelly rolls or cinnimon buns or something, but got no response. I looked to me right, where my old lady was and she did not look especially happy, and when I say she did not look especially happy I really mean she looked mean and unhappy. I looked away. I looked back. In my tenderest, most sympathetic, loving and understanding voice I asked her if something was wrong.
She turned towards me and spit in my eye (SHE SPIT IN MY EYE, MAN!!! SHE SPIT IN MY FUCKING EYE!!!).
"Look Asshole," she started, "why don't you go to hell!!! I don't want to talk right now, m'kay?!?!"
I looked away.
I sat quietly and didn't move, let the spittle run down my face. I tried not to pout. I am pretty sure I didn't. I tried to act normal. When a commercial came on I went and hid in the kitchen, ate some chocolate, drank some Airborne. When the commercial was over I tip-toed back into the livingroom and gingerly sat my ass on the couch. Did the same thing on the next commercial.
I don't remember what Alton was doing (oh, yes I do, he was making pot-stickers, yum!) because I was busy thinking about what I could possibly have done. The list was long and full of paranoia.
Maybe I didn't help out enough around the house, was my first thought.
Maybe she has a thorn in her paw and can't get it out.
Maybe she is going to leave me for someone cuter and more successful and with a more fantastic package than me (yeah, right).
Maybe she spent all our money on orphans or midgets or firefighters or orphan midget firefighters and is trying to figure out how to tell me.
Uh, maybe this and maybe that... it went on and on.
Time passed and we got the kids ready for bed and I was all paranoid that maybe I should get them ready and in bed and stuff so as not to piss her off any further... but she did it (I helped by using commanding words on the kids)...
I was super sleepy at this point and wanted to go to bed, but there was laundry to fold and other stuff to be done that I didn't want to do, but if you have read this far you probably can guess that I figured that I should do something more... but I decided to go to bed anyhow.
I stood around indecisively, trying to make my move for the soft comfy bed, I decided to go for broke and appologize for being an asshole and not helping out enough.
"Sorry I didn't help out more around the house." I said, "I will try not to ruin your evening again by being a lazy good for nothing asshole."
She looked at me like I was a complete moron.
"You think I am mad at you, don't you!" she hissed at me.
"Yes." I muttered back at her with puppy dog eyes all eyeing the floor.
"You think you are ultimately responsible when I am unhappy, don't you?" she hurled at me.
"Well, yes." I mumbled (because I already muttered earlier).
"So, when I am happy it is all because of you also, huh?" she asked with some sort of emotion that I can't come up with a word for.
"Of course." I answered...
I proceeded to try to explain to her about how the universe revolves around me by making circle motions around my head indicating that the universe eminates out from my head into the infinate beyond. My head being the center of the known universe... So if someone around me is unhappy it is obviously that my universe is not functioning properly... If someone is happy, though, it is generally just an accident... I believe I actually told her that, yes, if she is happy it is also because of me, because I am of the opinion that it is my job in life to try and make her happy and safe and secure...
The funny thing is that she believes that she is the only one capable of making herself happy or unhappy... Heh, just heh... I guess my moves are pretty sublime, eh?
But really, yeah, I generally believe that if someone is unhappy around me that either:
A) I pissed them off or did something to make them unhappy.
B) I need to do something to make them happy or assist them in making themselves happy (as I have been explained, noone can make anyone else happy, they have to make themselves happy).
And it is probably true, assist is a better word than make, but you know, I am hard coded to respond in situations where there is unhappiness or bad vibes floating around... First instinct is to hide, to be honest. Second instinct is to compensate. Third is to actually take some sort of action.
Where did this leave me last night? My wife laughed at me (I prefer to think that I made her happy again) and told me not to piss her off again tomorrow. I can live with that.

Editors Note:
I took some creative license with these events. There was no actual spitting involved and I don't recall ever actually having been called an asshole by my lovely wife. Or being spit at by her.
The part about the universe eminating from my general head area is not actually completely honest. It actually eminates from my crotchal aread... it's all about the crotch area...

Editors Note Also:
I had words with my brother-in-law yesterday and he mentioned that he and his wife had wondered how it is that I can be so damn supportive and fantastic to my wife and let her do so many things... I think I said "I don't know" to him but mentioned this to my wife and told her that if I appear to be so it is because I love her and want her to be happy and fulfilled... just thought I would mention that...

Editors Note for Yesterday:
It was noted that there was only 1 midwife at the little vikings birth.
That may be a matter of words, though... There was the doula.. There was the midwife, who was the wife of a chiropractor... and there was her student, who was blond and canadian and didn't appear to be wearing a bra... and the mother-in-law... and Bob Marley... for real...

99 44/100ths random crap

I think I can feel it coming on...
This might be the big one, Lucille...
I petted a goat or two this weekend (HEY, that sounds like a euphemism, doesn't it, Petted the Goat, like:
Hey, what did you do this weekend?
Me and the old lady stayed in and "petted the goat")
But really, I did pet a goat or two, and a sheep, and some other small goat/sheep like animals... Oh, and this little fat cow... (damn! what a sexy post so far)...
And when I petted this one goat, I was trying to feed it some pellets or something, but it didn't want the pellets, it was all sniffin and lickin my hand (uhhh) and I got goat drool all over my hand (HAWT!)...
I slowly washed my hands in the cold water, my skin getting tight from the cold, then pressed and pressed the soap dispenser and foamy creamy white soap was all over my hands, and I rubbed it into my skin, between my fingers, up and over to the back of my hand, then rubbed my hands together over and over and over, then gently pushed the knob to get the water flowing and slowly pushed my hands under the cold water and they were all slick and sliding together as I rinsed and rinsed and finally I was done, I took a towel and wiped the moisture off until I was dry again, and I threw the towel away... then I took a picture of a turkey...
I hope I wasn't cranky, I didn't mean to be cranky... I don't like to be in crowds of people at places like that... I have a problem with people feeling entitled, and I felt like I was in the belly of the beast, so to speak... Fall City, Remlinger Farms... a little to close to all the fancy rich eastside people with their big fancy houses, and their big fancy cars, and the matching sweat suits and $300 strollers... I cringe when I see these eastside wives climbing out of these big ass SUV's dressed casual but loaded down with gold and diamonds... talking in their cell phones as they pull out their kids and blah blah... apparently I do have issues... but really, they will not hesitate to run your ass over with their strollers or nannies or whatever then make YOU apologize for being in the way to be run over... I think, although this did not actually happen to me... I did see a few of them stop in the middle of the sidewalk and leave their strollers blocking the way... I don't know, now I just feel bitchy...
I think I am coming down with something... did I mention that? No? Well, yeah... I do...
Must think positive thoughts...
Ok, how about this... My wife is so hot!!!
While we were wondering around on Saturday I was noticing that none of the bellevue bitches held a candle to my baby. She was like a panther, or puma or lioness or something, all slinkin' around the place... I was followin' her around, waiting for her to like kick someones ass or stare them down or something... She wouldn't do that, not just for the hell of it... She would be nice, smile and laugh and stuff, but if someone stepped out of line I imagine she would strike like the cobra and leave a trail of less attractive or more uptight women laying on the ground whimpering... I admire her for this...
She has been working hard on her music stuff, going to school and getting the girls to their schools and doing all the other stuff she needs to do... she is like a flurry of activity all the time... I feel like a total scrub next to her... I don't think she believes me when I tell her I think she is hot or talented or other things, but I think it is just because I do not have words that adequately describe my admiration... I use small words, easy to pronounce, simple... I deliver it much like I would deliver a uhh, what are they called, report or something... opening paragraph where I state my point, then a couple paragraphs where I state my point in simple detail, then a closing paragraph where I, uh, conclude my point...
You are pretty,
I think you are pretty because...
In conclusion, you are pretty...
Somewhere in there, as I try to hit my key points, the eyes start to glaze (she got that from Marlys), or the chirren interupt (I think you arMOM CAN I HAVE SOME KOOLAID?) and my point gets lost...
Or I try to get all super fresh funky funky and BAM!!!
I'll be all like, "HEY BABY, I WANNA PLAY THE DRUMS ON YOUR BUTT, THEY SO FINE" and she will be all "WHAT DID YOU SAY, ASSHOLE?!?!" and I will be all like, "uh, you have a nice butt and I was gonna pat on it or something, like they were bongos and stuff" and she will give me a look like, "you think that is a real good idea" or "why do you think I would agree to that?" or "?!?!?!"... and instead of just dropping it I will try to go on and explain my point and how funny it really is, which drops me from being Super Fly funky fresh daddy, to some sort of groveling person of the type that I hate and want to bash their heads in... Damn...
Uhh, and I would create some sort of sculpture, some sort of monument to her beauty but I really am not one that has any of what people call "artistic talent" or something... I can't believe I took art in college... what was I thinking? I know what I was thinking.. I was thinking that there was this hot blond chick that was going to be in the class and I couldn't wait to see her... Damn, she was sooo hot... I wrote poems for her (for real) and I was all like, hey, you wanna read my poem, and she was all like, hey, that doesn't totally suck ass, and I was all like, huh, huh, you get it, huh? and I can't remember what happened then, except she ended up moving in with me and we drank Wild Turkey a few times, and played nintendo, I was soo slick, lured her in with a foot massage and nintendo and WHAM!!!
What? oh, yeah, can't do art pretty...
So I guess that just leaves me with the ability to write run on sentences and repetitive similes...
Perhaps if I bought her some lacy string underwear... What greater show of love and devotion and admiration that lacy string underwear? and a see through top... I don't want to over due it, give her a big head or something, Oh, but some leather pants, too... that'll show her, that will FINALLY prove my love to her... oh, and some of those boots that come up to the knee, with like a high heal, and a zipper... ok, that would do it... might be too much... maybe... and a leather jacket, with tassels... put it all together now...
lacy string undies, leather pants, see through top (wifebeater?), boots, leather jacket with tassels... Aaargghhhhh....
Be right back, time to pet the goat... uhh, I mean, gild the... no, dammit...
I could probably get away with giving her a hug, telling her I love her and letting her take a nap... but you can't really shout that from the mountain top, now can you... "I LOVE YOU, BABY, NOW GO AND TAKE A NAP"... I am probably blowing this all out of proportion... really...
Dude, I got up this morning, like usual you know, and ALL OF A SUDDEN... I was on the bus.
I was sitting there and I suddenly thought, How the hell did I end up here?
Really... I remember being at home, making coffee, etc. etc. and all of a sudden I am on the bus... I swear I am losing my mind... oh, and I noticed, whilst on the bus this morning, over to my left, there was some movement, it was the snaggletooth, sitting all by herself, she looked right at me, SHE HAS A MUSTACHE... and a snaggle tooth, and a keyring with about 200 keys on it (and an Albertsons card) and a pouch and a pooch, and a ponch... this was no ordinary mustache... it was prominent. It looked like the mustache I had in my high school pictures... Oh, and I was going to mention, then I wasn't, then I thought that maybe I already did, but here I go anyhow, that the Sausage, since the day we made eye contact, he has been trying to do it again... but I am not letting him... I am making sure I keep my head/eyes high in elevation than his, so as to still be the alpha male, but I am not allowing him to make contact... he tries, Oh lawdy, does he try... he tracks me as I get up to him, and as I pass, I can see his head turning, he is aiming his lasers at me... I am going to start slapping him as I go by, although... although... what if he digs that, like a bad dog trying or something, any attention is good attention... I think I will mix it up... one day slap him upside his big fat head, the next I will wait till he is walking by and give him a shot to the cock... WHAM! maybe kick him in the thigh, KAPOW!!! Slam him with my backpack... flick boogers at him, for the sake of science, of course... I will first break the toes on his right foot, then the left, then his kneecap, left then right... femur, hip, every other rib, poke his eyes and when he opens his mouth to scream I will split his tongue in half.. when he shuts his mouth I will, quick, crack his nose... then, as he is doubled over in agony I will slap the back of his head, SLAP!!! and, when he finally looks up, beaten, low dog in the pack, I will let him look me in the eyes, and I will shrug my shoulders like, "Hey, Sorry dude... "