The Dude Abides

Clearly not, otherwise I needn’t have titled this post as such.  Hello readers, it has been quite sometime since we have last spoken, and suffice it to say absolutely dick has changed.  How’s that for a clever intro?  To be honest, I’m pretty much fucking done with cleverness and all of that nonsense.  This post is going to be brutally truthful with a side helping of poems.  Actually, probably more of a side helping of brutal truth, because I have a bunch of poems I want to post.  Whatever the case may be, I do feel like I want to fucking scream currently, for no reason in particular.

I lie, actually.  There is reason.  A damn good one, too if I do say so myself, and I do.  Same situation as eons before.  Chicks, dude.  Chicks.  I swear, I’d be gay if I weren’t straight.  I have figured out that I do indeed want a girlfriend.  Beleive it or not, chillin’ upstairs with your laptop and Harry Potter isn’t all that people make it out to be.  I would very much enjoy the company of a significant other.  Physical benefits aside, I want somebody (other than family) to care for.  Title reference upcoming.  I want somebody to love.  Despite all of the railing I’ve done against it, most of which I still hold to be pretty spot on, it is nice to know you have someone that can listen to you.  Somebody that you can just spill all of your shit on, so you don’t have to: A. Bottle it up until it explodes out of you, or B. Write increasingly lame poems about all of the stuff currently happening inside your world.  My personal choice as of now is B, however I would much like to change that within the forseeable future.  That previous statement leads me to my next paragraph.  Step along, don’t hold up the line now.

Two girls are constantly swirling through my head, neither of which I can have.  I have come to terms with this, however I still am quite pissed about both situations.  One was my first love, a love that I thought (incorrectly for the first time in my life, although I doubt the legitimacy of the incorrectness) would last quite a little bit longer than it did.  Six months after the fact, I have managed to pick up and move on, although in my perfect world (starting now, as in my real perfect world I wouldn’t be writing this shit) we would get back together and live happily ever after in some remote village in the middle of Fuck All, or any other remote village you care to dream of.  Fuck All is my favorite because all the people there know that one phrase, hence the village name.  Also, they’re all midgets with British accents.  Bunch of English sounding midgets running up to you, saying ‘Fuck all,’ and then running off.  That’s my perfect world (starting now).

That scenario being very highly unlikely, my other possibility is another chick who I, in my biased truthified opinion, am a much better match for than her current…meh.  I say meh because calling meh her boyfriend annoys me.  I’m annoyed now.  Anyways, as previously mentioned, he is not up for Best Meh Award anytime soon.  That being said, neither am I, only because I haven’t been given the chance.  My solution?  Write half-assed poems ‘jokingly’ saying that I wish for her to be with me instead of with the douche.  Douche is also another accepted term.  At first I felt I should play nice, seeing as I’m not a dick.  Then, after remembering that I am indeed a dick, I decided I don’t feel like playing happy-go-lucky-fuckin’-Dude anymore.  The deal is I want to date her, and it pisses me off that some dillweed has her.  The only dillweed that should have a shot at her is me, because I’m an awesome dillweed.  Self name calling aside, I really have no clue how to approach this whole shenanigan anymore.  Obviously joking isn’t working, and that was really my only ace in the hole.  Sad, I realize, but in my defense it’s worked every other time I’ve tried to get a chick.  I figure it will all pan out however it’s going to in the end.  That is probably my problem, but I’m too annoyed to care anymore.  Fuck, sometimes I hate people messing up my bigger scheme of things.  I have plans, so how about you go back in time and not mess them up?  Thank you.

Alright, now that I have impregnated you with my words of annoyance, here are a few poems that I have been working on.  I have turned to actually attempting to write songs, mainly because it’s a fuck load easier and much more fun.  A couple I wrote in all seriousness, while the others (not too hard to tell) are just some shitty fun ones.  First off is the one that I think has the most merit as an actual song, and has started to be put to music by my uncle.  I’ll call it, Number One hit #1.  Enjoy.

What we had and what I felt, well I thought you felt the same.

I fell so deep, so deep in love, and now I’ll bear the pain.

‘Cause when you called and when you’d gone, well you took my heart for good.

And now I just can’t get over you, like they say I should.

So please, oh please, return my love to sender.

Return the broken heart that longs to be free.

Please, oh please, return my love to sender.

Sincerely, ‘With lost love’, from you to me.

You said that our future was too hazy, said we were headed apart.

The love we shared all for nothing now, wish I’d known from the start.

Instead here I sit with only my broken thoughts and mind.

Asking now, if you will, just to be so kind.

To please, oh please, return my love to sender.

Return the broken heart that longs to be free.

Please, oh please, return my love to sender.

Sincerely, ‘With lost love’, from you to me.

I said it’s okay, whatever makes you happy, as long as you’ll be fine.

But I didn’t take into account those opposing feelings of mine.

Every night we’re still together, you decided to stay.

Every dawn when I awake, you’re the one that got away.

So please, oh please, return my love to sender.

Return the broken heart that longs to be free.

Please, oh please, return my love to sender.

Sincerely, ‘With lost love’, from you to me.

I’m trying to move on now; I’m looking for someone new.

Someone to be my one and only now, but I’m so hung up on you.

Whatever we once had is over now, this I have accepted.

All I ask for from you now is all that could be expected.

Please, oh please, return my love to sender.

Return the broken heart that longs to be free.

Please, oh please, return my love to sender.

Sincerely, ‘With lost love’, from you to me.

Please, oh please, return my love to sender.

Return the broken heart that longs to be free.

Please, oh please, return my love to sender.

Sincerely, ‘With lost love’, from you to me.

 After I first wrote it, I was annoyed because I kept picturing it as a damned country song.  However, thanks to the saving grace and musical talent of my Uncle Tim, it actually doesn’t sound too damn bad.  Alright, let’s move on to a lighter hearted poem.  This one I wrote when listening to a lot of early Beatles tracks.  In fact, a lot of my shit is Beatlesque, which is annoying to an extent.  The previous poem is heavily influenced by Oh! Darling, although it sounds absolutely nothing like that.  Anyways, the next one takes a lot of Cavern Club days into it.  Titled Number One Hit #2, here you go.

Come on over now girl, don’t be shy.

What you’re looking for is over here, just give me a try.

Hey you, yeah you girl, you got me feeling all right.

And I, well I, just wanna love you all night.

So baby can I have you for just one dance?

Can you please just give me one good chance?

Woo ooh girl yeah you’re so fine.

Woo ooh girl yeah you’ll be mine.

Woo ooh girl you’re such a sight.

Woo ooh girl be my baby tonight.

You say you have someone, well that may be.

But by the time the night is over now, you’re gonna be with me.

I’m looking into your eyes, and you right into mine.

And from what I can tell, oh now, it’s just a matter of time.

Understand now girl that I didn’t come to fight.

But when you crack that grin, for you I just might.

Woo ooh girl yeah you’re so fine.

Woo ooh girl yeah you’ll be mine.

Woo ooh girl you’re such a sight.

Woo ooh girl be my baby tonight.

You look like an angel, yeah you know you do.

You blush when I tell you but, oh you know it’s true.

I know just what to say for you to show your smile.

Hey now girl, don’t go away, stay with me for a while.

We’ll discuss your lovely face and those pretty eyes.

In between my happy and contentful sighs.

Woo ooh girl yeah you’re so fine.

Woo ooh girl yeah you’ll be mine.

Woo ooh girl you’re such a sight.

Woo ooh girl be my baby tonight.

 Is it bad?  Fuck yeah, but I’ve seen worse.  In fact, my grand finale is much worse than that.  However, I am always one to give credit where credit is due, even though it mainly goes to me.  This is not solely my work.  My best friend Allen provided the last two lines to each verse (excluding the chrous).  So, if any of those six lines annoy you, then it’s not me you have to bitch to.  The next song needs an incredible amount of work, but I like the idea (believe it or not, I don’t stray too far ideally.)  This was actually an attempt at writing something deeper than just a corny love song, so I can’t blame myself for trying.  Here it is, Number One Hit #3.

What is the purpose of it all; tell me why do we exist?

Going through life in just a blur, just a hazy mist.

Since you’re gone all I know is nothing is for sure.

In everything I do, I feel so insecure.

I need more than help, well I need someone to love.

Seems for that to happen, need some help from above.

Give me a girl to talk with, to stop my internal wars.

A girl I can hold so close, to open up my doors.

Before you were gone, I was fine with merely my possessions.

Now those I have, but I’m left with only questions.

Was I meant to love or was I meant to lose?

Is this all determined for me, or do I get to choose?

I need more than help, well I need someone to love.

Seems for that to happen, need some help from above.

Give me a girl to talk with, to stop my internal wars.

A girl I can hold so close, to open up my doors.

God, at times, you seem so close, you gave me times that were.

And now, so far away, you’re beginning to feel like her.

Why did You take her from me, do You even care?

Is her mission so important, that her love You cannot share?

I need more than help, well I need someone to love.

Seems for that to happen, need some help from above.

Give me a girl to talk with, to stop my internal wars.

A girl I can hold so close, to open up my doors.

I had it once, when I was king, the world bent to my will.

Nothing was above me, a mountain was just a hill.

Then suddenly, king no more, going on in just a daze.

Running through life, from king to rat, moving through my maze.

I need more than help, well I need someone to love.

Seems for that to happen, need some help from above.

Give me a girl to talk with, to stop my internal wars.

A girl I can hold so close, to open up my doors.

Like I said, a lot of toying with it and tinkering here and there.  Consider that a work in progress.  Let’s move on.  My fourth song was during a night of deep depression and hurt.  Insomnia also played a major factor, and this piece of work is all I have to show for it.  Heavily drawn from Help! by the Beatles, here is Number One Hit #4.

A heart is just another door waiting for the key.

For everyone there is another, for every ‘you’ a ‘me’.

And so our eternal mission is searching just to find.

Someone whose other half opens up our mind.

So tell me who has the key to me?

Who is it that I can fall to when I really need?

Does somebody know who has the key to me?

Who can unlock my prison cell and set me free?

When you finally find your key, well I hope you’ll be elated.

For some of us will forever search, doomed to be frustrated.

They search for the one whose touch makes them weak.

As time goes by looking, the future grows so bleak.

So tell me who has the key to me?

Who is it that I fall to when I really need?

Does somebody know who has the key to me?

Who can unlock my prison cell and set me free?

I was unlocked and free before, in another life.

I’m just a prisoner now, my key cut me like a knife.

Will I ever find someone to break the lock placed on me?

Will I ever find someone to open up my eyes and help me see?

So tell me who has the key to me?

Who is it that I can fall to when I really need?

Does somebody know who has the key to me?

Who can unlock my prison cell and set me free?

A heart is just another door waiting for the key.

For everyone there is another, for every ‘you’ a ‘me’.

And so our eternal mission is searching just to find.

Someone whose other half opens up our mind.

Open up my mind.

I’m searching just to find.

When I finally realize,

I still love you.

That is probably my favorite of the bunch, mainly because I like the last little bit.  That came from all of my emotions just from a while back just catching up with me and kicking me in the balls at that particular time.  Anyways, I’ll stop admiring my own work (*in a far off, semi-gay voice* The words are sooo pretty.) and move on.  This is the big shibang, the one that everybody has been waiting for.  Actually, if you have been waiting for it, you should probably do all of your other shit that you need to do before getting back to this.  It’s easily the worst song I have ever written, but it was beyond fun to write, so fuck you all and your criticism.  This, in all fairness, should have been at the top of my list because it is the greatest song ever, and probably the easiest to record, if the performer could keep from pissing himself.  Without further buildup, I give you Number One Hit #4 (soon to be better known as the greatest song ever).

Hey hey I want ya to choose me.

Hey hey promise you won’t lose me.

I’m here to stay, so don’t worry, you’ll always be mine.

So do yourself a favor, and choose me, Caroline.

Aaah Caroline.

Yeah Caroline.

Hey hey I want ya to kiss me.

Hey hey I want ya to miss me.

Miss me wherever I go, worry everytime.

So stop your cryin’ now, and choose me, Caroline.

Aaah Caroline.

Yeah Caroline.

Hey hey I just want to know you.

Hey hey I just want to show you.

Show you all I have to give, I would if you were mine.

So just let him go now, and choose me, Caroline.

Aaah Caroline.

Yeah Caroline.

Caroline I think I’ve made it clear, I know I’d love ya more.

I know you think you’re in love, but I hope that you’re unsure.

Because I’m right here, day or night, regardless of the time.

So do my heart a favor, and choose me, Caroline.

Aaah Caroline.

Yeah Caroline.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

Alright, I’m fully aware that the chorus is beyond simple and that the lyrics are incredibly trite.  I could give two shits about that.  It was a huge stress relief after writing all that lame serious stuff.  For those wondering, that happens to be the name of the chick in my second scenario from way back beyond all this poetry noise.  For those not wondering, read it anyways and go fuck yourself.  I’m sorry, that was very abrasive.  What can I say, I’m a dick.

Alright, after that marathon of a post, I think I will have to go to finger therapy.  Not really, it was all copy and pasting.  However, at over three thousand words, I don’t think that I will ever have another post quite as long as this.  So, I apologize for the extreme inconvenience at making you wait for such an awesome post.  Next time I won’t write as many shitty songs before posting them on my blog.  In any case, I do believe that I can finally go back to being clever again, as I was more than my fair share of a dick in the first quarter of the post.  Oh, well, I seriously doubt meh will read it, and if he does, it’s not like I’m scheming to take his girlfriend by writing poems/songs.  Fuck it, I’m going bowling.

Welp, that does it for me, probably for the rest of the year, better known as at least three days, one for each thousand of words of this post.  Until next time America.  Take it easy.

The Dude

P.S.  I still love me. 

Hello, I’ll get to my title eventually.  First I have to follow my continuing pattern of a clever introdution followed by a lackadasical transition that concerns how gloriously awesome I am and all that noise.  Hmm.  Alright.  In my absence, or at least the absence of my writing, I’m sure you all have gone to other sources for your reading fix.  How dare you cheat on me.  I’ve never written to anybody but you, whomever you are.  I feel we need to take a break for a while…Alright, I’m good.  I knew you’d eventually come crawling back to me, everybody does…well, almost everybody, but that’s behind me now.  It is positive thinking from here on out, however negative it may appear.  So, let us move forward from this paragraph into the realm of my life.  It’s like the Twilight Zone, except in color.

Okee doke then, first off (and I’m quite aware that I just used okee doke) is the usual, a poem.  Now, before everybody get’s their undergarments all wadded up to throw at me, which in some cases I would accept, please note that it isn’t about the girl that I am currently kind-of-but-not-really trying to date.  This just popped into my head one day, and I figured I’d write it down before I lost it.  I should have posted this a while back, but I came down with a case of lazy, worse than normal.  Whatever the reason, it is here now, and you will damn well enjoy it or I’ll stop posting poems.  Oh, you called my bluff?  Well, I’m posting them anyways, jackasses.  Now, without further arguing with made up audiences, I give you my poem.

Let me paint you a picture of the world I see.

You and I and they and us, living in harmony.

No more hunger and no more greed.

No more guns to make men bleed.

No more left and no more right.

No more pointless political fights.

No more conflict no more thefts.

No more oil-fueled deaths.

Intolerance is finally gone, it is here no longer.

We are one now and it’s so that we are much stronger.

‘Peace‘, in one accord, we sing.

This is my wish, and this is my dream.

People all around me gathering, in masses do they meet.

Sharing their souls and sharing their hearts, war now obsolete.

Because inside us all, deep beneath our wall of pride,

Is a yearning to be loved, which we sometimes hide.

And in this thought I put everyone, there is no exception.

Forever there, love‘s with us all, regardless of perception.

It is our choice, within our grasp, very much our power.

To change this world from what it is, even now this hour.

And yet we sit here, doing nothing, I myself included.

Watching as the world goes on, evil undiluted.

So I think of, fondly, how we all would sing.

But one accord shall never be, and Peace is just a dream.

Yeah…just a dream.  Shame too, because I’m a big proponent of the whole idea.  Be that as it may, I’m also a realist, hence the poem.  Well, whatever my reasoning, I enjoyed writing it, and it wasn’t a goofy little ditty about a girl.  Well, it wasn’t about the girl anyways.  Alright, I feel that I need to address a few issues before moving on to…well the end of my post I would assume.

Issue one, in no particular order by the way.  The poem was not about the girl, but this paragraph will be.  So, apparently she has read at least the first poem, and will eventually read the second.  Smart on my part, in that it was extremely not smart to post those on the Internet.  Regardless of how she takes it, I have come to believe that it is probably for the best that she knows how I feel.  That way, in the ‘unfortunate’ event of their breaking up (in other words, nothing would please me more), I will be at the head of the line.  In a way I’m quite grateful for that, but I’m also very frustrated.  Not to discredit…Oh, fuck that shit, I’m done playing nice.  The deal is the guy she is with now treats her like absolute ass and doesn’t respect her like a guy should respect a girl.  Am I biased?  Fuck yeah, but I am POSITIVE that I could do a much better job.  How do I know this?  Simple, I could give two shits doing anything other than just being with her, I really could.  I’m not into all that stuff.  Surprising though it may sound, getting some poonanner really isn’t at the top of my list.  If it was, I would have crossed that bridge LOOOONG ago. (We’ll say 2 years ago, for no particular reason.)  As it stands now, I still hold my V card, and for that I have zero regrets.  That being said, she has told me that she does not.  Although I’m not really big into that, I’m not going to look down on her for it.  In fact, coincidentally I dated a non-virgin two years ago.  I had no problem with it, because it’s not my place to judge how people live their up until them dating me.  Afterwards though, watch your ass, because I’ll tell you when you are fucking up.  Just kidding, but only slightly.  In any case, what annoys me is that she isn’t with me, obviously, when I know that I’m quite the better option.  It sounds conceited I realize, but fuck it all it is the truth, something I have always preached on my blog, albeit my slanted view of the truth.  Hmph, I suppose the silver lining is that for the first time in about three yearsish I won’t have to dish out money I don’t have for a Christmas present.  That really doesn’t help matters any.  Fuck it, moving on.

Something else that pisses me off is guilt trips, especially online guilt trips.  You see this all the time.  Make sure you all support our troops this holiday season.  Whatever your standing on the war, it shouldn’t affect how you feel about the troops.  Hey, assholes, FUCK YOU!  Don’t tell me I need to support the troops this holiday season, I’ve hear that shit every fucking day.  First of all, I’m down with the troops all 365, so take your holiday support and blow it out your ass.  Second of all, don’t say ‘whatever your standing is on the war’.  It insinuates that if you are against the war, you are against the troops.  I hate that shit so damn much, and I’m seeing it more and more, on Facebook in particular.  Status updates should either be witty, lyrics, or quotes.  Don’t toss in a guilt trip to show everybody how AMERICAN you are and how not so we are.  I think this war is stupid and pointless.  I blame the Bush Administration for putting us in this fucking quagmire, and the Obama Administration for sending an addtional 30,000 troops.  The fact is that we will never wipe them all out, hate is inevitable, and wasting American lives striving for peace that will never be is absolutely stupid.  Like how I worked part of my title in?  For all the money we’re spending, we could be giving it to our economy, like to the CEOs so that they can fuck us over some more.  Wherever it goes, it would probably be better of there instead of using it to fight a losing war.  So, to all of you people who post shit about SUPPORTING OUR TROOPS, do me a favor.  Go fuck yourself.  In fact, go do it and make it REALLY REALLY public so everybody can see what a fucking awesome AMERICAN you are, douchebag.  You’re welcome.

Well, that makes me feel better.  Perhaps she’ll read this and come to her senses, perhaps not.  Perhaps everybody will stop posting annoying shit about supporting our troops, perhaps not.  Whatever the affect (if any), I’ve written my correct thoughts on here for all to read and be educated.  I am done for a bit now.  Until next time America.  Take it easy.

The Dude

P.S.  I still love me.

 

Alright!  That was ‘Since I Saw Her Standing There’ as performed by me.  If you are just tuning in, well that’s a shame.  You really missed a hell of a performance.  Perhaps you should tune in more often?  Hmm?  Not really.  It’s highly likely that you would get the same shit over and over.  To be quite honest, I wonder at myself for doing posting again so frequently.  Anyways, let me catch you up.  I like a girl, she is off the market, and I am a tad bitter about the whole ordeal.  My solution, as ridiculous as it sounds, was to write a poem, go figure, about my bitterness.  Somehow, no idea how, but somehow, my attempt at literature got around to said lady.  I really don’t know what she thought about it, and personally it is none of my business, although it is.  In any case, I decided, for whatever reason, to write another.  I will admit, the first one was quite fun, and the second was an even more enjoyable experience.  Again, extremely simplistic and very childish.  Piss off, it pleased me.  So, without further adieu, and also with knowing full well that I need a new introductory statement, I present ‘Duh: The Second’, better known as ‘Dud’, named for its estimated effect.

Ah, here I find myself again, writing you a sequel.

For though they merely are just words, my feelings remain equal.

It seems as if the first has caused a tad bit of commotion.

Some, they laugh, while others ask where I came up with such a notion.

Either way, it seems, the world was upended.

So I must apologize, if I have you offended.

However, when by myself, I must give a chuckle.

How does such an awful poem cause this big kerfuffle?

And yes, I am quite aware of the last bit’s rhyme.

And, as you likely do, I, too, find it asinine.

But now onward, ho, to this poem’s theme.

By now you probably know of my little scheme.

And if you don’t, well you’re none too bright, if I may freely say.

And if I may not, well too bad, for I’ll say it anyway.

Here it is, in black and white, not one more metaphor.

I wish for you to be with me, and be with him no more.

Quite certain am I, a better sweetheart would I be.

And as evidence of this claim, please note that I am me.

What I do think, however, is that I may have touched a nerve.

So allow me to point out I said nothing he did not deserve.

Speaking of undeserving…Oh well nevermind.

What was planned for right here, I deemed it quite unkind.

Remember once upon a time ago, when you had a little crush?

(Little seems understated, but I digress too much.)

But, unbeknownst to this, I went a different way.

And so now here I am, writing this today.

Through my writing, as I deem it safe, I will take a stand.

And finally say, without restraint, “I Wanna Hold Your Hand”.

Catch that Beatles reference? I didn’t think you would.

Were you with me, undoubtedly, I’d make sure you could.

So though I cannot undo the past, the future remains unclear.

So let me be quite vocal now…YO! I’M RIGHT OVER HERE!

Welp, there ya go.  I have a feeling this one won’t last as long as the other one did in find its way to her eyes.  Well, if I didn’t look like a dillweed before, pretty sure this clears up any and all disputes.  Oh well, in all fairness, I’m pretty much done trying to play this cloak and dagger bullshit.  I know that I could do better than what this guy is doing, but it’s not in my power to make a decision.  So, after this poem, I’m done writing anything about it.  No sense in trying to influence somebody who is set in their ways.  Shame.  Moving on, again.  Always moving on, never stopping to smell the roses.  Could be that the roses smell like annoying guys that won’t…never mind.  Again, moving on.

Alright, now on to something else that annoys me…family.  Apparently family Thanksgivings are lame, well, that’s the vibe I’m getting from my father’s side of the family.  As previously mentioned, I had planned on going to my grandparents’ house for a time of eating and visiting, with a side of quiet resentment for those not present.  You know, Thanksgiving.  Anyways, yesterday I found out that my grandpa just said, probably different than I am putting it, ‘fuck it’.  So, nineteen years of family gatherings amount to…jack and shit.  It’s one thing to bail after so long, but to preach and preach and preach family togetherness as the right thing for so damn long.  Thanks, really, I appreciate it.  What’s more, my father got pissed at my mom because we went with her to her family Thanksgiving.  Psh, fuck you.  How are you going to be mad when your side doesn’t even know what the word ‘family’ means?  Whatever, stupid people acting like they know what’s going on.  Here’s what I really think.  I think you all need to shut your fucking mouths.  None of you have any idea how to act anymore.  You shun your own family, you just stop having family gatherings, and then you blame others for your own shortcomings.  Sorry, but this would be hippie just can’t dig that scene.  I am out when it comes to that shit.

Alright, well I’m good for now.  Everybody, please do your norm and take this in stride.  A lot of annoyances dealt with, in that I just bitched about them here.  Perhaps next time I’ll actually have a legitimate post wordage wise.  I’ve only been scraping by because of the poems these last two posts.  Even now I’m only around nine hundred seventy words, which is why I decided to spell it out.  Oh well, surely the ending will cover my thousand word limit.

That does it for me.  Until next time America.  Take it easy.

The Dude

P.S. Nothing to put here other than this sentence.

 

Did you hear that?  That was my angry crowd voice.  It’s like a big mob being semi-angry.  I even included subtitles.  How clever of me.  You’re very welcome.  Alright, welcome back ladies and gentleviewers of this grand blog.  Welcome to my utopia.  Oh, it is a utopia.  Everbody that leaves here is happy, and if they aren’t, well, they leave.  Therefore, it maintains the status of a utopia.  Genius, isn’t it?  I know, my wit exceeds even my own sometimes.  Anways, on we go.

We will start off light.  A couple of game reviews should ease us in to more important things.  First off is NBA 2K10.  Very well made, and I have really no qualms about the game, except one.  Please, PLEASE no more home court advantage.  It is so damn annoying.  Shooting 0-12 from three-point land away and 8-11 at home is incredibly frustrating.  I realize that there should be a little, but really?  Come on guys, get it fixed.  One more thing I forgot, patch the glitch where the jerseys always screw up.  Everytime somebody plays a game, the created teams jerseys go haywire, and you have to re-edit them.  Believe it or not, I like the way I made them the first time, so no real need to do it over.  Other than those, awesome game.  Kobe is about 100 times easier this year, and I drafted him.

Next up is Dragon Age: Origins.  Simply put, it’s a lot like Fable 2 and Oblivion combined.  Oblivion storyline with Fable gameplay.  I don’t like adventure RPGs where you aren’t allowed to jump, but this game makes up for it with the storyline, graphics, and in game play.  I would put it a few notches below Oblivion (biased because I hold this to be the greatest game ever), but way above Fable 2.  Also, Sten in the game is a downright beast.  Easily my favorite character, other than myself.

Finally, my favorite out of the three, Borderlands.  Man, I totally dig this game.  It’s such a simple concept, yet the co-op mode is so damn fun.  Go out, kill things, collect some bounties, upgrade your weapons, repeat the process.  Extremely fun shooter, and I plan on going over to Jamaal’s soon to get my game on.

Alright, now that I’ve got you good and primed for the real stuff, here it comes.  Actually, I in now way prepared you for the real reason for the posting.  Oh well, it’s nothing more than you have already read before, so I assume you will be ok.  Ready, get set, READ!

Stemming from my previous post, I will now consider the matter of my girlfriend, significant other, dame, broad, depending on where you hail from.  Also, I would apologize for the insensitivity of those last titles, but I refuse to, simply because I feel like refusing.  So, activists, piss off.  Anyways, this is me writing a poem about the whole matter.  Before you decide it’s awful, however, let me assure you I did it with a twinge of humor.  I don’t mean for this to be that depressing style I normally write in, unless by depressing you mean bad.  In that case, well…moving on.  For my viewing pleasure as well as yours, my new poem entitled “Duh”.  Enjoy.

Poetry normally lets me tell how much I’ve loved and lost. 

But this time I’m risking everything, unknowing of the cost.

It seems that I have done my norm, and have this fellow judged.

And after doing so, I must say, I am quite begrudged.

For it is my opinion, and therefore it’s the truth,

The boy you are with right now, is merely just a douche.

Harsh though it may sound, I will speak my mind.

And afterwards, it is my hope, you’ll leave him behind.

It’s mainly that, from what I’ve heard, all you do is fight.

And from the position that I’m in, I just don’t find this right.

It really does puzzle me as to why you stay.

Perhaps if I just spoke up, you would come away.

And yes my views are slanted, this I will admit.

Yet I still sense there’s something there, so I don’t believe I’ll quit.

My idea, and stay with me here, has you finally see,

That if you feel a single doubt, you would be with me.

So, in my offbeat way, I’ve described the situation.

And if you chance to read this, consider my invitation.

For though I’m merely Gizmo, I still can speak the truth.

And so I say that even a dog is better than a douche.

There, that is my writing, those are my words.  I am frustrated at the whole ordeal.  I am very conflicted, and if I didn’t have such an awesome sense of character, I’d totally mess everything up in order for me to have her.  But, because I have morals, I refuse to stoop to such levels just to serve my own needs.  I would like nothing more than to have her in my company as my significant other, but that decision is beyond me.  Now, bow before my glorious righteousness, except do not really do that.  That’s not right.  See?  Awesome character.  In any case, my only shot is that she somehow reads this and gets the picture.  I imagine a printer, and a paper with my words on it.  So do I say it, so let it be.  That is me using my mystical powers in order for this message to get to her.  MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!  Shame I’m too lazy to actually do that, and in all fairness would never actually give it to her, my reasons being the afore mentioned sentences.  Hmm…Who knew the one to call me on my bullshit would be me?  I really am awesome.

I believe what annoys me the most is that it hasn’t ever been like this before.  Everything of this whole ‘girlfriend’ nature has always just fallen into my lap.  I, in turn, have always been pretty good at timing things just right.  This time, however, I feel I did a piss poor job.  While I was busy moaning and whining and writing my sob story in poems, I may have missed my window for actually getting out of the old funk and being jolly again.  And yes, I just used the word jolly.  Deal with it.  Be happy…jolly.  Make no mistake, I have no intents of falling madly in love and having the world sing joyous tales, while unicorns eat sweet candies and Cupid farts heart-shaped rainbows.  Just want to have the chance to do better than the current guy is.  And I would, because I say I would.  Oh well, life goes on, and the sands of time continue to fall, unless you take off the top of the jar and spit in it.  Then you could get it all muddy, in effect stopping time.  Holy crap, I know how to stop time.  This must be kept secret…Here seems the best, given the tiny amount of readers.  HA!

In other non-news, I have decided against boycotting the family Thanksgiving.  I figure since I’m such a large advocate of peace, I may as well do my best to keep it.  Annoying when things like that come back to bite you in the ass.  In any case, it also doesn’t hurt that dinner shall keep my mind off such things as an idiotic family, in that I’ll be too cloudy headed from turkey to really think at all.  Oh well, I think I will manage.

Welp, that does it for me this fine evening.  I have two days of school this week, both of which I have agreed to help people with their math homework.  Good freaking geeze, figure it out.  But, alas, I am too nice a guy.  Not really too bummed about it, at least I get a break soon.  Until next time America.  Take it easy.

The Dude

P.S.  Fuck.  Hadn’t said it once this post, figure I need to put it in there.

Awesome tagline, don’t you think?  Readers welcome back.  I’m sure you’ve missed me as much as I write that you have missed me, which is plenty.  Stop being so clingy, alright?  Anyways, I am back to inform you on the still continuing saga that is my life.  How do I know it is still continuing?  I’ll use this post as a reference to my proof as living.  Now, moving on.  Prepare to be amazed, or at the very least have your time taken up.

I finally upgraded to a new laptop.  It is, to say the least, fucking amazing.  I have no complaints about Windows 7 thus far, and being able to stream my music to my 360 is just glorious beyond all measure.  Now, I believe I’m done talking about mindless things.  On to the real matters of my postage, and that doesn’t concern stamps.

Summarized in my title is the reason I decided to post.  New readers (if you exist) know not of my terribly tragic overly explained, dramatic, and bitched about break up with my ex-girlfriend (who remains awesome).  Old readers (if you even still exist) are probably groaning right about now.  Fear not young padawans, for all is right with the Force and my mind.  It all culminated about three to four weeks ago.  I was sitting alone, miserable, and reading the bio of John Lennon.  After finishing it, it struck me that he found some sort of peace with himself through meditation.  I figured if he could do it, then so could I.  I’ll be the first to say that I’m ass when it comes to doing it.  Actually trying to focus your mind on just one thing is damn near impossible.  I couldn’t figure out what in the fuck was preventing me from actually going into a meditative state.  Then, after about fifteen minutes, everything came out.  All of the pain and anguish and hurt and betrayal I felt just flooded out, and afterwards I felt the most peaceful I have since…damn near ever.  So, for the past monthish or so, I’ve taken about thirty minutes to just meditate.  It truly works.  Call me bat shit, but I have absolutely no problems with myself or that whole situation anymore.  I acknowledge the fact that I love her still, but I would much rather just be good friends rather than have that awkwardness between us that I was causing by not getting the fuck over it.  The other night I was part of a skit for the church.  We joked around and chit chatted, and for the first time in a long time I was at ease with being in the same room with her.  Let me tell you all, meditation works.  To all of you critics, fuck you, because I say so and don’t want to think of a clever reason.

Now, moving on to another reason of my posting, my return to immortality and gloriousness.  In other words, my search for a new girlfriend.  I will tell you straight up, I’m not a fan of being single.  I hate and despise people, but having one as a companion to share thoughts and ideas with (with a side benefit of a kiss here and there) is never a bad thing.  In fact, I quite enjoy it.  I even have a potential chick scouted, or perhaps I should say I did have one scouted.  Circumstances prohibit His Dudeness from moving in.  Apparently she is off the market, taken by some douchey fuck who, according to sources (reliable, though biased for my purposes), treats her like shat.  Pisses me right off, it really does.  I could do my damndest to break them up, but believe it or not, I have morals.  I’m a prick, but I know my limits, and ruining a relationship for my own benefit is where I draw the line.  Shame, I really think she’d enjoy my company, given the fact that I’m me.  Why can’t things just fall into my lap?  That would be really fucking great, and it would make my job so much easier.  Hmph.  If anybody reads this and happens to have any ideas, a comment here or there would be great.  Ha, drop the zero, get with a Gizmo.  Ah fuck, I’m making terrible jokes.  Time to move on before things get really awful.

As you may have but probably haven’t read, I recently came into an idirect conflict with my elders, mainly my father and grandfather.  Because of this, and the unwelcoming of my Aunt from the holidays, I have briefly toyed with the idea of boycotting Thanksgiving.  Nothing says ‘Stick it to the Man’ like passing up a delicious fucking turkey dinner complete with sides and football.  My only reasoning is that since she is unwelcome because she has chosen a ’sinful’ lifestyle, then I really shouldn’t be there either.  In fact, nobody should celebrate Thanksgiving because we are all sinners.  Hmm, interesting, but I doubt I’ll really not show.  As staunch as I may seem, my Grandmother’s cooking is quite convincing, and in all fairness I very much like seeing the other family that aren’t, for like of a better term, fucking retarded.

That, in a nutshell, catches you up on the non-happenings of my life.  I hope you enjoyed more or less educating yourself in the realm of me.  I did finish the John Lennon bio.  Man that guy was awesome.  Fuck you asshole that killed him, fuck you.  In the unlikely event of your release, I do believe that you will be killed within twenty days, if not minutes.  It’s a damn shame that one stupid fuck can rob generations of somebody who was so damn…good.  Musician, diplomat, and international peace relations advocate taken in a matter of seconds.  After reading about him, I have totally gone for this whole ‘peace’ idea.  Why not?  The less our soldiers have to work, the better.  I really wish we had never gotten into this damn war, and I really wish that this damn administration would figure out what the hell to do about it.  Maybe I’ll run for President, someday.  I’d have the vote of at least one person, me.

Well, let’s try this again.  After that seemingly pointless rant about peace, I want to take a snooze.  I have to be at a game by 10:45 AM tomorrow, and the game doesn’t start until 1:30 PM.  So, by the time it’s over, around 5:00 PM, I’ll be in that suit for roughly 7ish hours.  Should be fun, a real barrel of monkeys.  Welp, I am out of here.  Until next time America.  Take it easy, and peace.

The Dude

P.S.  I can finally nix this part, but it’s now a habit.  Damn OCD, partly.  I still love you.

Let me take you down, ’cause I’m going to, Strawberry Fields. Hello fellow readers.  Interesting that I call you ‘fellow’, isn’t it?  Well, actually not really.  From time to time, I myself enjoy perusing my own posts.  Nostalgia, maybe.  Remembering better shitty times.  In any case, at least now you know we have something in common.  Alright, now let us move on to the post at hand.  Really, it isn’t anything to get excited about, other than that it’s mine.  A couple of poems that are past due in posting, although neither of which I deem good.  Afterwards I plan on bitching, so go ahead and plan your day accordingly.  Got it planned?  Good, now read and love me.

The first poem is also a first attempt at writing something that isn’t so damn obvious.  Granted, the theme is more or less the same, but I thought I’d try and make it more symbolic, and, when it boils down to it trippy, thank you Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds.  In that regard, I utterly failed.  However, it’s not a terrible poem, and I enjoyed trying to expand my realms, even if I dare not leave the safety of couplets.  Ladies and gentleladies, for your viewing non-pleasure, I give you this poem.

Pieces of thoughts flow through an altered-conscious stream.

Congregating in a sequence and creating a dream.

A soothing Presence says not to worry.

I’m sliding into Tommy’s ‘amazing journey’.

I am myself, yet there I am.

I watch the dream, yet there I stand.

I get in the car and begin the drive.

Flee from the real and begin to feel alive.

A momentary word is the only toll.

Talking to the Man who’s in control.

And then I ride the wormhole exit to the start.

Arriving long before piercing sadness conquers the heart.

A whisper of future echoes in my mind.

And I ignore it, for now’s not the time.

A detour in time and my journey skips.

The control of it all seems beyond my fingertips.

A many-faced man is who greets my arrival.

And I stay for four months, wishing to leave all the while.

Finally I hail my mind’s taxi-cab.

And I leave the dark, and the drab.

The sun’s light thief greets me there.

What happens here, I’m quite aware.

The whisper that was, now surrounds me.

My question, an answer, and I’m all I can be.

“Yes,” and my journey rockets to a different world.

I, myself, and this girl.

It’s this world where I wish to remain.

Where the ending never happens, where there is no change.

But a dozen tulips bow in sorrow.

Foreshadowing the coming morrow.

Love moves into my head.

It melts away the hate and dread.

The dark blue dress makes me feel weak.

The night that follows, serves as the peak.

A sharp left turn, and I‘m away.

My heart is breaking, like the day.

I see myself, and I’m crying.

I hear my soul, hear it dying.

No one else is able to see.

For the many-faced man is also me.

The faces are the state I’m in.

They appear as fake, mannequins.

I’ve arrived at the end of it all.

I hate the dream, yet I still stall.

Because in the dream, it’s all fine.

I wasn’t foolish, and you’re still mine.

Pieces of thought flow back to me.

And I return, sadly, to reality.

There, did you get your fill of cheese?  Add some macaroni and you’re talking a decent meal.  Yeah, yeah I know.  Get over it, right?  Piss off.  It’s not like I WANT to exploit this for writing.  Truth be told I’d rather be rhymeless and have nothing to write about, which I’m sure I’ve said before.  Meh, fuck it, let’s move on.

The next poem, as I said there were two, is my version of a Beatles song.  Come Together gives a description of each Beatle in one of the verses.  So, instead of creating my own song, I kept their ideas, only subbed in people I thought I could describe.  The problem arose in trying to describe people without coming out full-fledged and saying their name.  Also, I couldn’t just describe them outright, I had to make up some nonsensical shit in order for it to sound anything like the damn song.  Again, I utterly failed.  Again, I enjoyed the attempt at branching out, and in this one there aren’t as many of those damn couplets.  So, without further adieu, my version of Come Together, bear with me.  (Because WordPress is ridiculous I have to put my own hyphens to separate the verses.  Apparently double spacing doesn’t do shit.  Whatever.)

—————————————————–

He’s boiling over, he got quiet uproar.

He got prison school day, he plays incompletion.

He say, “Hurry up ‘cause now’s a bore.”

Volcano eruption soon blows open the door.

———————————————————–

He run and run, he got, photo funding.

He feel, lovey nothing.  He’s just driftin’ nowhere.

He say, ‘Give the green’ for his physique.

Tries to be the crowd but he just way too unique.

—————————————————————–

He pencil wizard, he got, heavy say so.

He hate, bitter acting, he feel, no conditions.

He say, ‘…I don’t need reality’.

He just ‘live in the house of love peacefully.’

———————————————————-

He heartbreak refuge, he just, always chillin’.

He see, deeper than deep, he love, all of the three.

He say, ‘View it all in apathy.’

‘If He is or if He’s not that’s alright with me.’

———————————————————–

Enjoy that?  I hope so, it was a bitch and double cunt to write.  If you know me at all, than figuring those four fucks out won’t be any problem.  If you have trouble, hesitate to call, and I also advise against the postal service.  Just comment telling me you don’t know who they are, and I’ll respond my chuckling and telling you to fuck off.

Alright, now that we are through the posting of my poems, let’s talk fucking turkey, fucking functioning as an adjective.  Here’s the deal.  I’m lazy and bored.  A job could remedy this, but fuck that.  What I really want is somebody to talk to, preferably a chick.  I mean, I have all of this stuff in my noggin that I would like to discuss.  If I could find a chick that could just chit and chat about music for an hour, that’d be sweet like a lolli, or the second part of a sour patch bear.  As it is, I have me, myself, and my blog to talk to, and the other part of a relationship (such as dating) really is nonexistent, although my blog once made a pass at me.  Tried to tell it that we’re better off as friends, but it just couldn’t get over that fact.  It started writing poems about me and the blog.  Creeped me out.

Perhaps it’s me.  Who am I kidding? I’m quite sure it’s me.  HA!  Want to hear my perfect idea of a date?  A little Rock Band, a little Halo, talking about music, dinner, a movie upstairs, a kiss goodnight, and then off to my dreamland.  I could probably nix the Halo, but I’ll leave it in there for emphasis.

My point, in a very obtuse yet roundabout way, is that I’m boring.  I know this, and I know that I sure as shite not going to become Mr. Sociable just to bag a chick.  And I’m back to Square fucking 1.  (Why squares, by the way?  Personally, I’ve always been a fan of circles.)  Circle 1 consists of me writing poems about dreams and journeys and lost love.  I must like Circle 1 a lot.

It’s frustrating to an extreme I have never known.  I just want to move on, get over it, stop complaining.  I want to let her go, stop fucking writing about her, (in the slim event she still reads) and give me a sense of ‘fucking hell I’m glad I’m out of that’.  Of course, sitting around doing dick with your time really gives you a shit ton of opportunity to just think.  I’ve found your mind is useless when it’s always preoccupied.  Damn shame.  Meh, fuck it.  Moving on.

I am half way through John Lennon: The Life.  Until, and even a little bit after he started taking acid, that guy was a gigantic fucking dick.  He didn’t give a shit what he said, or to whom he said it.  Personally, I don’t know how these guys made it as far as they did with him running his trap all the damn time.  As much as he was a creative genius, that guy needed to be punched in the face.  Of course, once he started tripping, he became this peaceful guy with an even bigger sense of insecurity than before.  *Spoiler alert* He gets shot in the end, or so I’ve heard.  Shame, another iconic music figure taken before his time.  These things sadden me.  Just think of a world where Hendrix, Morrison, Cobain (maybe), Delp, Moon, Lennon, and Bonham were all still alive, along with anybody influential that died early.  Imagine all the people, living life…with good fucking music still around.

Welp, that about does it for me.  A longer post than I’ve been cranking out lately.  Thank you average poems.  If nothing else, you filled some damn space.  Until next time America.  Take it easy.

The Dude

P.S.  I still love you.

Hello readers, and how are we this morning?  I’m posting now because I’ll be gone getting my mascot on all fucking day, and by the time I get home I will be too damn tired to do anything but sleep.  So enjoy it now, because you fucking love me.

My title, you ask?  Ugh.  Last night was Uniontown’s homecoming.  They got their asses whipped, and rightfully so.  Either way, the whole ceremony made me start thinking again.  Roughly a year and a day ago, I danced with the homecoming queen.  I fell in love with her.  I was happy.  But, as quickly as one finds happiness, life is there to pluck it away with a chuckle.  And so now for the past four monthsish I’ve been doing nothing but moping around like the sad, pitiful fuck I have become.

Here is how bad it is.  I go to class, I come home.  That’s it.  That is my day.  I do absolutely nothing, aside from the occasional mascot appearance, to get my mind off of her.  Yes, I realize that four months should have gotten me over, or at least numbed me to the fact that there is apparently no going back.  It’s just something keeps telling me that what occured happened prematurely, and feel free to make any sick jokes you want.

Of course, I’m biased, because of my stance on the subject, but it’s not like I can lie and fake acceptance.  How dare I let her be happy, right?  How dare I just let it all go and move on.  Yeah, way to go Cody, real fucking genius.  I think I may be up for the Nobel Peace Prize for that one.

Prestigious awards aside, I really am kind of sort of but not really trying.  I mean, it’s not like I fucking cry myself to sleep like a little bitch…anymore.  Ha!  Yuck, I disgust myself.  I want more than damn near anything TO move on.  What could I want more than to feel some time of release from the whole situation?  Hmm, how about her?  Could I have that, perhaps with a side of curly fries?  No?  Well, how about just the curly fries then?  What do you mean you’re out?  Man, what a shitty day so far.

Alright, enough bitching about my shattered emotions and broken beyond repair heart.  In case you were wondering, the previous sentence was sarcasm.  I think I’m going to do a bunch of mini-rants.  Some are recent, some are past due, but I find them humorously idiotic all the same.

So, a couple months ago I was at Jamaal’s.  We decided on KFC for dinner.  His mother calls us back and tells us that KFC…pause here for dramatic build up…had run out of chicken.  What?  So, do we like order a pizza from there now?  Or maybe a big ol’ tub o’ taters?  What is the fucking deal here.  If you are a chicken establishment, you do not run out of your signature product.  It’s like going to a football game and them saying they don’t have a pigskin.  The fuck man?  KFC, go fuck a chicken, but do not serve me that one, when you finally manage to get some in your inventory.

Next up, stained glass windows.  Kind of a neat idea, but, in my opinion, a shitty raffle prize.  Last night at the game, the booster club or somebody decided to sell a couple of stained glass windows.  I was like, who wants to win two fucking windows?  You know, maybe if they came with installation, or perhaps the rest of the house, but alone?  Fuck you.  Cakes are a better idea, or maybe a pie or something.  Windows?  You’re raffling off something that takes manual labor to appreciate?  Welp, you just lost my bid.  Stained glass windows, go break.  You are completely pointless in the raffle realm, and the idiots who decided to do that are stupider than…hmm…FOX News.  Couldn’t think, so I decided to use the old reliable stand by.

Speaking of idiotic right-wingers (terms not dependent on each other, as I know a few intelligent ones), Glenn Beck ceases to prove how dangerously close to insane he is, or actually just stupid.  I needed some filler, because my wordage is really slim as of right now, hence this sentence.  Anyways, he predicted the cost of the Vancouver Olympics to have cost the city 1 billion dollars.  Holy crap, that is bunch of money.  Wait, what?  I’m getting my live feed from ‘reality’.  Oh, really?  Folks I’ve just been informed by reality that the Vancouver games do not happen until 2010.  So, exactly how have they lost 1 billion dollars if nothing has happened?  I mean, sure, the stadiums cost to build.  Damn them for creating jobs.  But, ticket sales and souvenir sales, I’m sure the city gets a chunk of that.  Plus, tourism bumps even higher, since the Olympics are kind of a big deal.  So, um, Beck?  Fuck off.  You predicting but stating as fact numbers are fucking ridiculous, unless of course you can travel through time, in which case you are now more of a dangerous idiot.  Who knew idiots could be dangerous?

Welp, that just about does it for me.  In an hour I have to go take pictures as the mascot with anybody that wants to take their picture with me.  Apparently, there are enough fans of the Cheer/Dance team to make this photo op last two fucking hours.  Should be fun.  Another side note here, I actually had to go to cheer/dance practice on Thursday.  8:30 PM-10:00 PM.  I got up on two people’s legs, stepped down, and watched the rest of practice.  Seemed a bit, useless.  Anyways, I missed the Office because of it, so I was a tad miffed.  All in all, a really shitty weekend ahead.  I’m praying for a lot of things right now, but strength, patience, and a mind wipe are on top of the list.  Sometimes, if I weren’t so damn awesome, I contemplate never leaving my house again.  Damn curse, sexiness is.  Until next time America.  Take it easy.

The Dude

P.S.  I still love you.

Seriously, how far is religion supposed to be taken before it starts fucking with people’s lives?  Actually, it is more of a skewed version of religion, something I like to identify as ‘fucking ignorant’.  Hello readers, welcome back to my love shack, minus the love and shack parts.  This post I believe will be my most challenging to write, because it deals with putting people in their place.  Original, right?  It is when that person is your grandfather.  Alright, get ready for a double-shot of truth and correctness.  I’ll try not to get you too drunk, don’t want you passing out on account of ingesting so much right.  Enjoy.

Okee doke then, let me lay out the scenario that has caused such a fuss.  My aunt is a lesbian.  No need to beat around the bush, she does that for me. (Terrible joke I know, but I found it quite humorous, although perhaps in poor taste.)  In any case, she is easily the most level-headed person on my Dad’s side of the family, perhaps with the exception of my grandmother.  However, this type of lifestyle is NOT tolerated by that side of the family, to the point that her partner is not welcome to family functions.  These unspoken ‘rules’ are decided by my grandpa, and everybody just falls in line.  My grandma really isn’t in tune to this way of thinking, but keeps quiet to keep the peace.  It’s sad really.  Well, my aunt and her partner decided that they wanted to have a kid together.  So, before telling anybody on my Dad’s side (except her twin brother), she went to my Mom and us kids.  My mother, who has been separated from my Dad for two years, is her primary source.  She said that she knew that Mom had raised us with a good set of morals, and that we were understanding of the situation.  Let me pause a moment to give you my stance on the whole ordeal.

I am against gay marriage.  I am.  I think the lifestyle is immoral, and I really believe that it is a sin.  That being said, I really don’t care either way about them legalizing it.  If two people of the same gender want to get hitched, that is their cross to bear.  Also,  I DO believe that a gay couple should be able to have a kid.  Love of a child is not strictly bound to a man-woman relationship.  So, when Mom told me the situation, I was pretty cool with it.  It doesn’t bother me.  Here is what bothers me.

When my aunt finally decided to tell my grandpa, he was none too pleased.  In fact, he went so far as to say that the kid would not be treated as equal in the family and that the whole ordeal would be highly looked down upon.  In essence, he was pretty much disowning her and anything related to the matter.  HOW FUCKING DARE YOU.  WHERE THE FUCK DO YOU GET OFF SPEAKING SUCH IGNORANCE?  This is horseshit, fucking horseshit.  His stance is religion.  Whatever, that is no loving religion I know of, especially not Christianity.  He is doing a double of what the Bible says.  He is hating the sin AND the sinner, not just the sin itself.  To completely leave a child out of family recognition is like blaming the kid for your lack of tolerance.  He hasn’t even been born, and already the hate is being tossed at him.  Your love for your child should not diminish because she may be sinning in life.  If that is so, then we are fucked when it comes to getting into Heaven.  God’s love for us isn’t conditional, and neither should be your love for your children.

No, I resent his views and anybody’s views that are similar to his.  I am above that, smarter than that.  If my aunt happens to read this, know that you have my full support and love, and that your kid will receive no shunning of any kind from me.  Likewise, anybody who reads this and supports the idiot side, go fuck yourself.  I will forever consider you less than intelligent due to your obvious showcase of ignorance.

The shocking thing is, this isn’t the first time something of this nature has happened.  When we found out that I had an older sister (who my mother gave up for adoption, given the circumstances regarding the conception), everybody was extremely happy for the reunion.  Well, almost everybody.  My grandpa told my dad that it was good to find her, but that it was a chapter in Mom’s life that should be left closed.  In other words, don’t fucking see her ever again, because she isn’t a biological child of my dad.

Here is how it really is.  She is my mom’s child.  My brother, my younger sister, and myself are also my mom’s children.  That makes us ALL siblings, and I don’t give a flying fuck who our fathers are, we have common blood.  For somebody to try and deny the right of my mom to see her daughter after 20 years of wondering is flat out wrong.  It’s something I take offense to, and I will not tolerate.

Why do people try and stamp out love simply because it doesn’t add up to the customs of yester-year?  Because they know they’re losing control, and are lashing out in ridiculous ways in order to try and maintain that sense of ‘order’.

Don’t try and sell me on that religion stance bullshit.  They try and sell that ‘holier-than-thou’ crap, it serves to no end other than piss me off.  You aren’t showing love and compassion.  You aren’t walking in the path of Christ.  Are the ones you condemn so much worse than you that you have the right to isolate them from family and love.  Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.  No takers?  Good.  You’re fucking welcome.

There, I have spoken my piece without voicing my opinion vocally.  In other words, I have accomplished jack and shit in improving the viewpoints of the people I am so furious at.  Oh well, time keeps ticking away, unless you have a broken watch.  In that case, I hope you don’t rely on it to check somebody’s pulse.  Chance’s are you’ll get a false pronounced death.

That does it for me.  Lookie there, a half-decent rant and no lame poem.  I’m going back to days of old.  Sure is looking sexy again, my writing.  Quick update on my non-love life…Well, nevermind, nothing new to report.  HA!  Alright, I am leaving now.  Until next time America.  Take it easy.

The Dude

P.S.  I still love you.

Hello.  If you wonder at my title, it’s probably because you don’t speak French.  In the event that you do, you are pretty smart and you know the meaning and significance of this statement.  Readers, I am not going to be posting a poem this time.  I know, terrible.  Why, you ask?  Because I have no poem to post.  It has happened that the greater I enjoy writing, the shittier the poems become.  So, until I fucking hate writing again, I won’t.  That being said, we will now move onwards with this post.

Brad Delp once wrote, “I have a solitary heart (translation of title).  I am a lonely soul.”  Afterwards he killed himself by carbon monoxide poisoning.  Although I think he is a fucking moron for pulling a stunt like that, I know how he feels, except without that whole suicide shit.

I am a lonely soul.  I’ll admit it.  I realize it quite vividly.  I can even tell you that it is my own fault.  I am not going to go out and make a bunch of friends.  I hate people.  They’re flawed and useless.  I come off as a prick because I am so bitter at what I perceive to be a shitty hand that I’ve been dealt.  I refuse to talk to, or hardly even acknowledge the girl I loved and lost, because I’m too fucking cowardly to face the inevitable hurt I know it will bring, even though I’m sure it would make things easier on the both of us if I just grew a pair.  I also like the pronoun ‘I’ quite a bit.

I see everybody changing around me, and I wonder what they perceive as growing up.  To me, it’s just being responsible.  To others, it’s becoming everything they weren’t in high school, at least the shitty parts.  I could completely change, become a typical college kid.  This means becoming a chewing, drinking, smoking, partying, sex-obsessed douche fuck who loves shitty music.  My biggest objection is the bad music.  Just kidding, but only slightly.

She was at the game tonight.  I figured she would be, so it isn’t like I was caught off guard.  I just deflated.  My mind just went back to asking questions.  Why?  What the fuck?  Serves to make an interesting late night, in that it will be just like old depressing times.

Do me a favor, will you?  If you happen to read this, toss me a message.  Tell me to fuck off.  Just do it.  I think it will finally let my conscious mind rest.  I’ve always preached that the easiest way to get over something is by telling the annoyance to fuck off.  Perhaps after I’m told to fuck off, I can go back to just being El Duderino.  An odd theory, but I think it is worth a shot.

Alright, now after all of these mini-paragraphs, it is time for me to rant.  I haven’t in a while, so chances are I am a little rusty.  Oh well, learn something anyways.  This is just a minor annoyance I experienced at the game, which I plan on blowing completely out of proportion in order to type a decent rant.

At the game tonight, as I was standing there avoiding contact with her (because I’m a dumbass), I had to listen to some annoying cunt babble on mindlessly about pointless shit.  Just stupid fucking gossip, and nothing else.  The bad part is that she wasn’t even talking to me.  Guy she was talking to wasn’t interested either, at least not in what she had to say.  He was interested in a few things south of the mouth, although I’m sure the mouth was also involved in someway.  Either way, this chick is fucking retarded.  Maybe I’m not a genius, but I can clue in when somebody is trying to use me.  It disgusts me all the way around.  That chick is not only fucking annoying, she is also a big fucking dumbass.  It’s like, really?  Do you not realize that, generally speaking, guys aren’t really concerned about how bad somebody’s shoes were.  The guy is just trying to hit it, which I understand.  I don’t approve, but I understand.  Seriously though, the girl isn’t even good looking.  Big knockers, but she is hairy and grody and stupid.  To the both of you, stop.  You’re fucking for the wrong reasons, and dude, she is fuck-ugly.  You’re welcome.

Alright, something else.  I like to say that I swing both ways politically, but in most instances I lean towards the left.  If you don’t agree with me, that is fine.  Nobody is going to hate you because you’re wrong.  However, I digress.  My point is, I’m not a big advocate of the shithole excuse for a TV station that is FOX News.  I mean, besides Glenn Beck, Sean Hannity, Bill O’Reilly, and everybody else there, I’ve got no problem.  But, I do have to give them a smidgen of credit, or at least the guy that gave them the story.  By the way, worst pimp costume I have ever seen.

I’m talking of course about the hidden camera exploits inside ACORN facilities.  Fuckin’ hell, people!  I swear, I haven’t seen shittier advice since somebody told Keanu to act.  What those assholes were doing was ridiculous.  It was wrong, and it was illegal.  Shame that the President is kind of distantly involved with them…or was at one time.  Of course, he isn’t MY President, NO FUCKING BIRTH CERTIFICIATE!  Does anybody else hate those people as much me?  Ok, he has shown a certificate of live birth, this doesn’t satisfy you?  Get over it, you lost.  Kind of like what you said when Gore lost (won)?  Exactly.  Fuck you, go blow your elephant.

Alright, I think that about does it.  I realize looking back that this post is extremely scatterbrained.  I’d apologize, but it relates to how I feel.  Don’t like it? Don’t read.  I hope you go blind, you unappreciative fuck.  I am out for now.  Until next time America.  Take it easy.

The Dude

P.S.  I still love you.