Bobby Joe Thorazine: Editorials For The Apathetic

tblog sucks!!!

     Okay, that does it. I am officially pissed off at this thing known as tblog. I'm missing tbucks, I can't get the layout right for my script, it's adding emoticons where I don't want them, erasing entire pages when I try to add them where I do and worst of all, I CAN'T GET ANY DECENT SUPPORT!!! I mean, having problems is one thing but, I should at least be able to ask about them and get some help. However, when I type  "support" or "help" into the support search engine it comes up with nothing.

     I'm sorry I'm no expert on this thing but, frankly, I shouldn't have to be.  This thing is supposed to be for personal enjoyment and expression, not another source of angst. It doesn't even really have to be all that easy as much as effective. I always secretly wondered if the problems I had with tblog weren't really mine but, after the emoticon problems yesterday and not receiving my tbucks I knew that it was possible for this thing to suck all by itself.

    Don't get me wrong, I like being able to do this. I enjoy reading many of the other sites here and I enjoy communicating with many of my fellow bloggers. I have gotten things out of it and it has many positive aspects. Still...  if these people think I'm going pro now they can lick my rectum...and I mean that as nasty as it sounds.

    T he sad part is, this wasn't what I was going to write about today. It was actually going to be something positive (for a change) and so I'll probably come back later today and add another post. Whether or not I keep this site however, that is the big question.

     tblog, you are officially crap in my book.

Borrowed from a Borrower

This thing is floating around so, I guess I'll participate. You're supposed to copy this whole thing into your blog/journal using BOLD CAPS on the things that are true about you and lower case on the things that are false. What the hell, I'll play along.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p; 

1) I've had sex in the past five minutes.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;   

2) I ENJOY ORAL SEX.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p; 

3) I scream loud during sex.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   

4) I love sleeping with more than one person. (Honestly, I wouldn't know)

5) I OWN AT LEAST TWO BOOKS ABOUT SEX.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   

6) I've peeked into the locker room of the opposite sex.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;  

7) I have accepted money in exchange for sex. (? I used to be a stripper, does that count?)        & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;

8) I HAVE HAD SEX WHILE UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF A CONTROLLED SUBSTANCE. (I didn't add this stupid emoticon, tbolg did automatically and I can't figure out how to get rid of it!!!!!)    ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp; 

9) I have been in porn movies. (Photos, yes. Movies,no)  &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp; 

10) I have been the odd person in a threesome.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;  

11) I HAVE PUBLISHED THE SEXUAL EXPLOITS OF A PAST RELATIONSHIP WITHOUT TELLING MY EX.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;

12) I HAVE LIED TO MY LOVER ABOUT AN AFFAIR.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;

13) I have more than ten tattoos.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;        

14) I like and respect Jenna Jameson.  (Personally, I think the bitch is gross.)         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   

15) I LIKE SLOW SEX.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;

16) I have learned a lot sexually over the past year.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;      

17) I HAVE A SEXUAL FANTASY ABOUT ANOTHER BLOGGER.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;

18) I HAVE BEEN TOLD THAT I'M A GREAT LOVER. (Whether it's true or not, I don't know. You know, people do lie. ...I have. "Sure Honey, you were great.")     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;        

19) I CARRY A CONDOM AT ALL TIMES.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;  

20) I'm interested in trying suspension. (I'm pretty adventurous but, if it's what I think it is...I'll pass.)         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp; 

21) I've broken a bone while having sex.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p; 

22) I HAVE A WET DREAM THAT I'M ASHAMED TO REVEAL.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p; 

23) I HAVE HAD SEX IN THE RAIN.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;      

24) I have had sex while someone else watched. (?Does masturbating in front of someone count?)        & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;

25) I would get plastic surgery if it would improve my sex life.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp; 

26) I want to fuck right now. (Maybe later...if you're good.)         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;

27) I like to play with food.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp; 

28) I LIKE TO HAVE SEX HARD AND FAST.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   

29) I always brush my teeth after sex.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;   

30) I SHAVE MY PUBIC HAIR.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;

31) I HAVE TRAVELED OUT OF TOWN TO HAVE SEX.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         

32) I have fantasized about sex with my brother/sister-in-law. (Sister, yes. In-law, no.)         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;        

33) I HAVE HAD SEX WITH A PERSON FROM A COUNTRY OTHER THAN MY OWN. (Just for the record, she was from Japan and she was terrible.)   

34) I dress to look sexy everyday.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;       

35) I have had sex with twins.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp; 

36) I have had sex with someone I met over the internet.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;

37) I have more than ten sex toys.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;      

38) I LIKE THE WAY I LOOK NAKED.  (Most of the time.)         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;  

39) I HAVE LIED TO GET A PERSON TO HAVE SEX WITH ME.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;  

40) I change from one sex position to another in a specific order each time.

41) I SAW MY PARENTS HAVING SEX. (Not something I recommend.)        

42) I get cable just for the soft porn. (No thanks, I have hard core on tape. I get cable for South Park and Northern Exposure re-runs.)         & nbsp;   &n bsp;

43) I think legalized prostitution can reduce some crime.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;   

44) I HAVE A LIST OF PEOPLE I'D LIKE TO SEE NAKED. (In my head but, it exists.)         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   

45) I AM REGULARLY TESTED FOR STDs.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;   

46) I AM ONE KINKY BITCH.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp; 

47) I'm always hungry after sex.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp; 

48) I ENJOY PHONE SEX.    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;     ;         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p;

49) I have been arrested for being naked in public. (The cops busted me "doin' it" a couple of times but, they never arrested me.)         & nbsp;   &n bsp;   &nb sp;   &nbs p; 

50) I HAVE HAD SLOPPY DRUNK SEX WITH A STRANGER. (Once...in college)

Ugh. Honestly, I can think of better questions. Hmm. Maybe later this week.

Did Your Mother Not Teach You How To "F*#K Off?!?"

     I hope everyone had an excellent holiday. Me, I skipped the family get together for the first time in my life. Instead I did a lot of housework, watched a lot of t.v. and did a lot of club networking for my band. I even managed to stay sober and well behaved.

     On one evening out I went to see some friends play at a very popular club in Birmingham. A friend of mine showed up with a girlfriend of hers after leaving a concert in town. They weren't alone. A very drunk and ignorant fellow had followed them and was trying desperately to chat up the second girl. Unfortunately, this girl (we'll call her Gina) was not impressed nor did she have the assertion to tell him to "fuck off". The girl that I knew (we'll call her Karen) tried to give Gina moral support but, didn't really know what to do to get rid of the guy. Once I realized what was going on I motioned for them to join me and made sure as to block off their nuisance's path. At some point he did corner Karen and tell her that he was really attracted to Gina and could she please set the two of them up. I told her that she should have said "Mother Fucker, that's my GIRLFRIEND!" In my experience comments like that tend to make the malefactor tuck tail and run no matter what sexes are involved.

     If all this weren't bad enough, as I talked to Karen and Gina, the woman on the other side of me was having the same problem with a different fellow. I considered intervening on her behalf as well but, not knowing her I may have seemed like just another problem for her to ditch. This sort of thing happens to girls a lot. Guys do experience it on occasion. I think I've had unwanted advances from some chic, maybe, five or six times. With women, however, it's rather frequent. It might get a girl a few free drinks but, it mostly just provides a distinct pain in the ass.

     My question is: what's some really successful ways to solve such a problem? Obviously, if the guy can't see that someone is trying to ignore him then he's a bit dense. It usually takes something really direct or really creative to get rid of him. Personally, I prefer creative methods because 1) you avoid a messy confrontation and 2) instead of walking away with frayed nerves you have a cool story to tell.  Both Karen and Gina apparently have this problem a lot. My roommates girlfriend has it a good bit too. What are some good ways for these ladies to help some persistent guys to get the point?

Tomorrow, Tomorrow...

     Well, oddly enough I am in a considerably better mood today. Nothing good has happened, in fact I got very little sleep and haven't been able to get me computer program to co-operate (as usual). Despite that I'm developing more of the attitude "Fuck it". If this long series of people affecting my life right now are going to continue having unfounded problems with me, let them. I have no control over other people's psychosis' and letting their problems become mine is simply foolish. I will spend Thanksgiving alone and I won't be upset about it. I will do my job to the best of my ability and I won't stress out over it. I will grant myself all the love that I'm capable of producing and it's going to be just fine.

     Wow. I almost believed that myself. Honestly, I got a bad habit of living for today and maybe I just need to be more like Little Orphan Annie: "Tomorrow, Tomorrow...".  Things will be fine. I believe in karma and the way things are going I'm due to win the lottery. No matter what, if my attitude doesn't change then I'm just going to spend the rest of my life miserable and that's simply not necessary. Some good things have happened and I shouldn't take them for granted. My band has begun regular rehearsals, I located an ex-girlfriend on the web and have corresponded with her a bit, I have a job that's not waiting tables or digging ditches (not that there's anything wrong with that, I've just done my time), I have a place to live and a good roommate, I'm not drinking all the time anymore, I'm not taking drugs all the time anymore, I'm not screwing countless women all the time anymore...okay so, that wouldn't be ALL bad but, ...you get the idea.

     Starting tonight I'm cleaning the apartment top to bottom. Things like that always make me feel a little better. I also need to find another side project. My television show has sat on the shelf so long it's starting to become dated.  My solo gigs aren't as fun as they used to be. My play...hmm, that's not a bad idea. I could finally find a director and get that thing off the ground. Of all the other things it's the best. I should just put some production work into it.

     Tell you what, I'm going to start posting bits and pieces of that thing on here. I could get some idea of how strangers might react to it, weed out any last minute problems and, who knows, I might find a directer. At the very least, it would be something to do other than complain. I may put some of my lyrics on here as well. I'm always real self conscious as to whether or not they're any good. That could be a way of testing them. Hmm.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

     You ever wish you could be at your own funeral? You know, just to hear what everybody says.  I have a feeling my autopsy is actually going to be more interesting. That's going to be the point where they start saying things like, "It's amazing! Look at his brain! It's a wonder this guy didn't go on a killing spree." That's going to be when they find that part of me that contribute to the thousands of homicidal thoughts that I have a day.

     Actually, I don't need something physical to induce thoughts of murder. I work for people who don't believe in training. They prefer to have you figure it out on your own and, when the impossible computer program confuses you to the point of tears, they establish that it's your fault. When the fax machine at their office won't receive things they determine that it's because you never sent it...even though you have three times. When you become frustrated and lost they determine that you have an attitude problem. I'm on the verge of strapping a bomb to my chest and detonating it in their office. I would but, they'd just determine that I was unbalanced.

     My unscrupulous step-father has managed to turn my naive family against me. My daughter's mother is so insane that she's hidden the child from me. My friends have become so old and boring that they don't have time for me. Now, my employers have set up an operating system so bewildering to EVERYONE that they're loosing confidence in me. Those fantasies about having a shotgun to cock really loudly are coming back...and I am beginning to scare me.

     I really should start smoking pot again.

Rain, Rain, Go Away...I'm Serious, Take A Hike

     I never cared for rain and there is a hellofalot of it today. Seems appropriate after the way the past few days have gone. I'm beginning to realize that the social butterfly I used to be is no more. I'm more withdrawn now and I'm much more lonely as a result. I found myself looking for old friends on the web today. I managed to track down an ex-girlfriend in New York. It was nice but, still, it's not the same as having someone that I can confided in and relax with regularly, face to face.

     The weekend was lonely and made more frustrating by the two seizures I had. I was having them once every six weeks. Now however, that ratio seems to have changed. Luckily my insurance just kicked in so, I'm making a doctors appointment a.s.a.p. I hate doctors with a passion. One almost killed me some years back because he was to lazy to do his job properly, something he was forced to admit eventually.  Despite that, I'd say it's officially time to bite the bullet.

     My mother is still trying to persuade me to show up for Thanksgiving but, won't persuade my step father to admit that he assaulted me.  I know I'm a jackass. I get it. I understand that I am FAR from perfect. In fact, no one punishes me for a variety of mistakes, big and small, worse than myself. However, this recent rash of my loved ones treating me like I deserve any and all grief that rolls my way has got to stop. I inherited my father's difficult disposition, but another thing that he past on to me was the belief that there comes a time when you must stand up for yourself. I lost my house, the woman I loved, my best friend, my career and, most importantly, my daughter. I wasn't perfect but, I didn't deserve all of that and I am officially tired of having my face rubbed in it.

I'm tired of knowing people who are either too young to do anything but lead a continuous, debauched social life or too old to have a social life at all. I'm tired of my friends who can't associate with people after marriage. I'm tired of relatives who expect me to find a way to associate periodically no matter what. I'm tired of assumptions of all kinds and I never liked assumptions to begin with. I'm tired of people filling molds and I'm tired of others trying to cram me into one.  I'm tired of not being able to make a joke without someone assuming that I'm making a critique. I'm tired of people assuming that if a person is quiet it means that they're unpleasant. I'm tired of the "If you don't have anything nice to say ..." propaganda. I'm tired of people who expect you to figure it out for yourself only so they'll have someone to explain it to them faster. I'm tired of being in the middle of a bunch of monkeys, screaming and yelling and throwing their shit at each other and I'm tired of being the bad guy every time I'm willing to stand up and hose them down until they stop. I'm fucking tired.

     Well, ...I feel a little better now. ...A little...

     So I'm going to make a New Years resolution right now. I resolve to start a new social life next year. Not bar hopping, not web dating, something different and I resolve to not succumb to the narrow opinions of others. I will make sure that I'm okay. I'll be my best friend and if these other people don't like it, they can go fuck themselves with a rusty tire iron.

Thanks For The Beating

     So let me ask a question. Let's say that you have a step parent who, you not only don't get along with but, has assaulted you. You literally did nothing to deserve a strong word, much less a fist, and they still act as though you did. They plan to be at your family gathering during Thanksgiving so you decide not to attend. Is that unreasonable?

     True story, my step father, who I had never had a bit of problem with prior to this, assaulted me last Christmas. My mother had gone into a J.C.Penny's to return somethings and he and I waited in the car. While trying to rearrange some things in the car he began to crush some presents for my nieces. I politely asked him to slow down and took over the reorganization. After getting things placed more reasonably I removed one of the presents which had been destroyed and said, "See?" I wasn't even rude about it. His response was to shove me down on the pavement, get on top of me, hold me down and continue his assault. 

     Almost immediately total strangers intervened and pulled him off. They began cussing him out and accusing him of child abuse (I look about 15 years younger than I really am). I interceded on his behalf and talked these people out of calling the police. He responded to this by refusing to let me back in the car and said that there was no way I was riding back home with him and my mother. I started walking back to my Grandparents. A few minutes later my mother drove up next to me telling me to get in the car. My step father was completely silent. I got in, she drove me to my Grandparents and told them about the fight. It was agreed that I would take an interstate bus home. Everyone automatically accepted that the whole thing was my fault. (Everyone except for the witnesses who all tried to talk me into pressing charges. I chose not to for my mother's sake.)

     I am an ass. I admit it. I can be very difficult to get along with at times, moody, irrational and down right mean. I always see it after the fact and feel really guilty. While it often eludes me in the moment I always eventually see where I went wrong. One year later, I can see nothing that I did to deserve my stepfather's attack, absolutely nothing. I even tried to smooth things over. He won't hear of it. 

     My mother is acting like I'm being difficult for not wanting to break bread with her husband. You have all the facts that there are. My hand to GOD this is not embellished or printed with a biased slant. Detail for detail this is what happened. Am I being difficult? I love my mother and I don't want to hurt her but, is there some way to explain to her that he hurt me without cause?

     I dunno. I do get the feeling that I will be watching the Macy's Day parade alone with a turkey sandwich in one hand and a bottle of George Dickel in the other. 

Fairy Dust and Star Charts, Magic Charms and Pixie Farts, Just Tell Me When I Get Laid Next

     I finally started adding links to this stupid thing. Only took me about a month. When doing so I first went through my posts and located bands and other things that I had previously mentioned and added them. Next I added things like the Landover Baptist Church site just cuz I think it's funny (the first time I saw it I thought it was real. It took me about half an hour to realize it was a parody). Lastly, I added horoscopes because I check mine everyday. It was while doing this that I discovered the sad news that Joyce Jillson, the astrologer I trust the most, had died.

     Let me add here that I'm not someone who is really into that sort of thing. My theory is that the stars have an effect on the tides and, seeing as how our bodies are 90% water, it's POSSIBLE that they may have an effect on us. It's POSSIBLE, in my opinion, that the gravitational pull of heavenly bodies may make ours prone to certain feeling and inclinations. It's possible. Most astrologers however, I think are completely full of shit. The one that I usually trusted was Joyce Jillson. In my case, Joyce seemed to ALWAYS be right. She was usually off base about my love life but, with everything else, I found that if I took her advice I was better for it. There's someone else doing her column now and I have yet to decide if their reputable our not. There's a link to the left, you can judge for yourself.

     If you do check into these horoscope I appreciate any reports on their effectiveness.

     On a similar note, I first found the Landover Baptist site while doing research for my Halloween costume. This research took me to several Satanic websites (I went as an Evangelical Satanic preacher, complete with a six inch pompadour and blasphemous tracts) and it was though one of these that I found Landover. I don't know if it's sponsored by Satanists however, if this proves to be the case, I'll probably delete it. The only thing that I find more offensive and ignorant than radically fundamentalist Christianity is Satanism. Whether you believe in hell or not why buy a first class ticket? And the philosophy and rantings of these people is always so fucking retarded. Okay, you got shoved in a few lockers in high school, we get it. You know what? Get over it.

     I dunno. I'm a Unitarian so I'm supposed to be tolerant of other's beliefs but, this particular practice just seems evident of a need for therapy. I've said it before, Dr. Michael Aquino of the Temple of Set is a highly educated man but, it's still hard to respect some guy who looks like Grampa Munster ...much less consider joining his church. Just my opinion.

     Joyce Jillson- R.I.P.

I Wanna Know The Time, Not How To Build A Clock!

     Responding to a recent post on grrlpink's site made me think of the Divinyls yesterday. In a way it's a real shame they had such success with that "I Touch Myself" song because it's really over shadowed a lot of great work that they were responsible for. Last night I dug two of their first albums out of my closet and fired them up full volume on headphones. Pure unadulterated rock n' roll and it is some good stuff.

     I ended up bringing them to work with me which is a real good thing. I like my job and I like my boss but, I don't like working for my boss. For such a smart woman she's kind of an idiot. I'm so frustrated right now, the one thing that really helps me cope is ballsy, nasty rock. Songs like "Make You Happy" and "Motion" really take the edge off and keep me from walking into her office and beating her to death with the Jet printer.  That sloppy, high end sound of the guitar tearing out pop anthems is all it takes to get it out of my system.

     It's really fucked up. I haven't been trained at all and yet I'm expected to automatically know everything. If I try to take up ten seconds to ask a question I get told that she doesn't have time and that I shouldn't have to ask. Without fail, however, something won't go the way she wanted (usually something that the answer to my question could have prevented) and she will waste twenty minutes telling me everything that I DO know. Somewhere toward the end I'll usually find a moment to ask my original question and the problem will finally be solved. By that time I usually have just enough time to rapidly get it done and go home...half an hour late. Last night I got home around 6:30 pm. I plugged into the Divinyls' Desperate album and my demons were exorcised with Christina Amphlett's.

     Rock n' roll is a wonderful thing. I firmly believe that Metalica, Iggy Pop, Little Richard, Janis Jopplin, U2, Motley Crue whoever have prevented murders and terrorist style activity by giving the would-be perpetrator a way to get their aggression out. I know Concrete Blonde have literally prevented me from committing suicide before. Just listening to Johnette Napolitano express her angst made me feel like somebody else out there understood. It's a wonderful thing.

     A couple of days ago grrlpink asked what lady musicians turned us on, I ask who is it that helps you cope? Who exorcises your demons? For me the big one has always been Concrete Blonde but, there's also the Damned, the Cult, New York Dolls, Sisters of Mercy, Jason and the Scorchers, White Zombie and Mott the Hoople, just to name a few.

Are These Rubbers Just Gonna Rot?

     I hate it when the seasons change. It's bad enough that I gotta fight getting ill every time the weather changes from cold to hot or hot to cold but, for whatever reason, my libido always goes crazy. For the past two days all I've been able to think about is tying some chic to the bed post and spanking her for about a week. I don't know why. I mean, being swarmed with thoughts of sex is tough but, when it's all the kinkiest, most twisted stuff that's even worse. Don't get me wrong, I'm not just horny, I'm also lonely and company would be nice more than anything but, ...I really, wouldn't mind getting laid.

    & nbsp; I'm not going to give in. I remember what it was like when I was playing music all the time and it took very little effort to drag a different lady home every night. It was a nice challenge to see how long I could rub them and lick them until they started screaming loud enough for the neighbors to complain. I just can't do that any more. Even when I am feeling incredibly weak and I'm out of the house I find myself ruling girls out. "Nah, she's too stupid. She's too ugly. She's too boring. She's a Barbie doll." Somethings always wrong. I end up going home and hurting myself. It's getting old.

     What happened to all the really fun girls? What happened to the ones that we're kinky enough to leave marks but not send you to the ER? What happened to the ones that were adventurous but, weren't looking to be peed on? What happened to the ones that were open minded and, were willing to share their girlfriends? I know, it's not them that have changed, it's me. Bite me all you want but, when you draw blood we're having a fight.

     I have several girlfriends who keep wanting to set me up with friends but, they're all women who are recovering from some damaging situation...or their on probation...or their a paralegal. What happened to all the rock n' roll women. Am I the only one who didn't out grow it? I know, I know, it's my problem, not theirs. Be that as it may, I still wouldn't mind finding some lady that I can enjoy shopping with who'll let me lock her in a cage when we get home.

     There's no poignant, philosophical crescendo for this entry, I'm just lonely and I'd really like to get laid. ...And that's really about it.

Strangers With Candy, Stranger Than Fiction

     So there I am, in an ugly green bride's made dress riding through the middle of downtown Birmingham on the back of a parade float. My make up was thicker than a whore's, my hair was in pigtails and the boobs that the women in my department made me were way to big for my costume. Five other guys were with me, all of us looking like the New York Dolls at the Grammys. "Why did I agree to this?" I kept asking myself. The girl that works in the office down the hall from me now has another reason not to look me in the eye. What's worse, local t.v. news crews were there. Fifteen years in professional entertainment and my television debut is gonna be in a 1987 prom dress. Great.

     They wouldn't let us smoke or drink from fifths of whiskey, only throw candy. The whole trip there was a carriage behind us, the horse that was drawing it producing explosive and pungent diarrhea.  The worst part is, they didn't take us back to our offices. We had to walk back through the streets  dressed like this. Of course, I did get a cop's phone number. He obviously went into law enforcement for all the wrong reasons.

     All this and I'm soar from having a seizure last night. I felt it coming so I laid down on the couch. The next thing I know I'm outside walking up the steps to my apartment. At least it wasn't in a dress. The next time they ask me to do something like this there better be a joint and some George Dickle involved.  ...Maybe somebody who looks better in that outfit tha n me, as well.

Dumb as the Dirt Upon Which He Walked

     "Hello, my names Bobby Joe and ...I'm a dumb ass."

     "Hi, Bobby Joe."

    & nbsp; I live three blocks from the university that I work at so, I decided that getting a parking pass wasn't necessary. However, it didn't occur to me to get an umbrella. I got drenched today. Yesterday it didn't rain but, I was running a few minutes late and in my haste to make a breakfast of cinnamon toast I grabbed the salt instead of the sugar. Yeah, don't try it. It's not any good.

     Well, brothers and sisters, it is just this sort of behavior that brings us all here today. It is the actions of pulling half way into a turn when the light changes to red and sitting in the middle of the street waiting for a chance to drive with out getting demolished. It is the conduct of standing in a fast food line for twenty minutes only to reach the counter having not looked at the menu to decide what to order. It is sincerely asking questions like, "If we do this, will you still respect me in the morning?"

     Sure I will, Baby, ...you dumb ass.

     Stupidity. That's what brings our congregation together today. Stupidity. A rampant problem of which we are all a part. Who among us has never done something that we later thought "What the fuck was I thinking?!?" Of coarse, we all have. Not to worry. Because while we have all done something completely boneheaded, the simple truth is, we all have. It's something we all have in common. I myself do something incredibly dumb at least 20 times a day. Putting the paper in the copier upside down so that only blank reproductions are produced. Doing so repeatedly while asking very loudly, "What the hell is wrong with this thing?" Taking money out of my checking account knowing that I have written and mailed checks that week yet, have not balanced my check book. Saying things like' "If we do this will you still respect me in the morning?"

     "Of coarse I will, Bobby Joe. Now here, put on this leather jock and rub this butter all over your nipples."

     Trail and error is how we as a species learn. Sometimes it takes a while to sink in but, the question you have to ask yourself is' "is it eventually taking root or am I doomed to continue making the same mistakes over and over." Me, I recently began to seriously question my drinking. My intake had decreased but, I was still abusing it. At one point I even called A.A. And then, a miracle happened. For whatever reason, be it simple growth or Divine intervention. I suddenly lost interest. I realized that a week had gone by, including a Saturday night and I hadn't even thought about booze. I went out with a friend who offered to buy me a drink at a bar and I turned her down simply because I didn't really want any. My boss brought me a bottle of whiskey as a gesture of thanks for running the office while she was out and it sat there on the kitchen table. When I did open it, I took one shot and lost interest. A couple of days later when I made an active attempt to get drunk off the same whiskey I found that the open bottle just sat there. I couldn't bring myself to drink enough to get intoxicated for I had begun another transition in my life.

     Now, of coarse this has only been two weeks. I made cinnamon/salt toast yesterday but, I'm not so dumb as to think that two weeks of reform can define a person. Yet, I do feel remarkably different. I also realize that it is perfectly okay to fuck up as long as you can admit it and try to learn from it. Normally at this point in the week I'm thinking about the weekend. I'm thinking about going out and I'm thinking about drinking. Currently, I'm wondering if I come into work on Saturday if will be possible to skip a day of work next week to run errands that can't be done after five. I feel better about myself, as though a great weight has been lifted...and I believe I may give that whiskey to my neighbor.

     Let us pray: Dear Lord, Thank you for the effort you have put into our lives. Help us to do the same. Lead us not into ignorant stupidity but, deliver us from that which makes us complete shit-for-brains. Lead us, Father, away from the sorts of temptations that make us think "Hey, just this once. What's the worst that can happen?" Father, bless those who's stupidity has given them V.D. or serosis or caused them to be fired from their jobs or to declare bankruptcy or to get bitch slapped by large bikers who didn't appreciate their not-so-smart mouth. It is for these things we pray in your name, Father...Amen.

     Go in peace.

These Panties Keep Riding My Crack

     A lady who works in my department at the university came by my office yesterday to ask me if I would put on a prom dress and ride on a parade float for Homecoming. Now, I know I've spouted a lot of bullshit on this site but, this happens to be true. Also stranger than fiction is that I agreed to it. I'm not sure what possesses me sometimes but, come Friday I'm going to be riding through the middle of downtown in a really tacky dress. I'm not sure what else she expects but, I've decided to not shave for the rest of the week and to wear work boots. I may even put on mascara and lipstick with a large sponge and smoke a cigar. Yeah, that be good. And I can drink from a fifth of George Dickle screaming "What are you looking at, you freaks?!?" at the crowd. Hm. Yeah, I like that idea. And here I was worried about all the weird stuff that I was prone to endangering my job.

     I didn't tell the woman who organized the "drag float" this but, it won't be the first dress I've put on. I played a twisted, drag queen bartender in LOOOOOOW budget film once. I wore my girlfriend-at-the-time's dress and made really lewd remarks to the other characters. I also went out as a witch one year for Halloween. That was great! I always thought that the problem with guys dressing in drag on Halloween was that they just put on lady's clothing but no costume. People are looking for a costume so, no matter how good you are they're gonna see that your really a guy. I dressed as a woman first and then put on a witch costume and my roommate didn't even recognize me. It was wonderful. I just sat at the local bar making eyes at various people and flirting with them to see how they reacted. I also learned that a surprising amount of my female friends go both ways.

    & nbsp; Anyway, another thing that I didn't tell the lady who organized this is that I plan to collect on the favor she owes me...sooner or later. The band I play with is always holding contests and auctions and giving away weird prizes and all kinds of stuff. I think one night we may just have to have this lady (whose rather large, by the way) show up in a dominatrix outfit and hand out free spankings.

     Don't mess with the best, Baby. ...Or the most disturbed, however you prefer to see it.

The Social Glory Of the Web

     So, I joined an on line dating service. Go ahead, say it, I'm a sucker. I also know how cliché this is going to sound but, it also happens to be true: I really just wanted to meet some people and make some new friends. If I happen to meet my soul mate and fall madly in love, great. If all I get is some e-mail not related to work, that's perfectly fine. I've already discussed how disappointed I am with many of my friends and my long period of "ladylessness", I see this web dating as a step toward changing these problems. Gotta be assertive, right?

     Something else that hit me was that I don't really like the ways that other people meet and date. I'm tired of trying to meet people in bars. Work is just wrong. I'm my case I work at a university and everybody is ten years younger than me. In most cases it's just a bad idea in general. You have problems at work, you bring them home. You have problems in your relationship, you bring them to work. I know lots of people like the gym but, that seems really superficial. Everybody you meet is half naked and sweaty, not to mention, you're already ruling out everyone with out the financial means to become a member in the first place. I attend church fairly often but, as a Unitarian I find that the majority of my fellow congregates are twice my age. I'm pretty kinky but, the idea of someone experiencing a broken hip in a fit of passion isn't my idea of romance. I can't drink caffeine so coffee houses are out. Volunteer groups tend to keep hours that my schedule as a weekend musician won't jibe with. That leaves dating services. Alright, I'll give it a try.

     The first thing is you've got to set up a profile for yourself. I always have a hard time taking that seriously. By the time I'm done it says that I was raised by a close nit group of squirrels and that my hobbies include jousting, raising lizards for their fur and needle point. I think this is because I hate reading others even worse. You see a picture on there that has a nice looking woman only to read her profile and discover that she's a complete idiot or she has terrible interests or she's a replublican... I'd suggest that the service pair people itself except that those things are terrible at it. Why in the hell, if I put in my profile that I'm looking for people in my zip code does it send me women from Detroit? If Atlanta's too far then Michigan isn't cutting it by a long shot. Seeing as how I want friends as much as dates and I have a computer, Germany isn't really too far but, I'd like to get those options last. Know what I mean?

     What I want is to meet people that I enjoy being with so that when the weekend comes and I'm not playing I can have people to go see other's play with, so I can have people to shop with, so I can have people to camp with or even sit and watch t.v. with. I want jokes sent to me at work. I want people to bitch to when I'm irritated and to celebrate with when I'm in a good mood. My friends don't do these things anymore and I can't take it. I'm lonely.

     There, I said it. I'm lonely. I'm good looking and interesting and socially aggressive but, that doesn't seem to cut it any more. I need to connect with someone in a way that makes me feel like I'm not the only one of my species left alive. Is that even possible?

     I'm whining aren't I?

     So, I joined a dating service.. I'll either meet people and make new friends or I won't, at which point it'll be back to the social drawing board. We'll see. Go ahead tell me I'm a sucker, I can take it.

     Please.

If It Don't Roll It Ain't Rock

     I was reminded today of a conversation I had with a very ignorant young man who fancied himself a musician. I was talking about the basics of rock n' roll with someone else and mentioned Chuck Berry. This poor fool interrupted to tell us, "Chuck Berry? That's country music." After a brief moment of staring at him like the cretin that he was, I broke a chair over his head and resumed my conversation with the human that I'd been talking to. Chuck is as fundamental as rock n' roll gets. I think it was Miles Davis who said "If you can't play Chuck Berry then you can't play in no clubs." I'll admit that there's a twang to his music but, that's how rock started.

     Rock n' roll is the illegitimate child of country & western and rhythm & blues. This was an interracial coupling and produced a bastard with qualities of both it's parents. Granted, the Beatles proved that rock n' roll was capable of becoming more than the sum total of its parts but, at its heart, its what happens when white trash and Negroes artistically meet. It's what makes it genuinely American and what makes it unique.

     Our young eavesdropper was ignorant of it's beginnings and this put him at a disadvantage. He said he was a musician but, he obviously hadn't done his home work. After he recovered from his blow to the head I tried to explain the history of rock to him and how it progressed. I think his distaste for current country made it difficult for him to understand and see the past and why it was important. Conversely, my distaste for the bands coming out of his mouth made it difficult for me to let go of his throat and give him air.

     "You want volume, that's great. If that's all you're after then go sit next to a bomb."I tried to tell him.

    & nbsp; "Get off me you freak!" he countered.

     As he became more obstinate and I became more impatient it was obvious that I was waisting my time. Not only that, he was waisting ours claiming to be a rock musician. I was finally forced to take his gear away from him and set his vehicle on fire. It was kind of sad. Oh well, you just can't help some people.

To Freud It's Just Junk Food

     What an incredibly busy week. This would explain why I've neglected this thing over the past few days. Halloween was a blast. I ran into plenty of people I haven't seen in a while and saw some fantastic costumes. There was a really good Mexican wrestler, a giant prick, and a back wards psycho baby. My favorite, however was the guy who came dressed as a football mom. Jersey, boobs, bad make up and a bad wig and he would clap really loud and holler "Go, Tommy! Run, run, run!" It was all very rewarding.

     But I'm not writing about that today. It's dreams that evoke my muse this morning, specifically the dream I had last night.

     I never remember my dreams, ever. This one however, I recall every single second of. It started out that my mother and I were in New York and went to see the Late Show. As we sat in the audience, we witnessed a bit that involved lots of extras, including an old friend of mine. All she basically did was run around the studio in 1930's attire and then sit in the audience. At one point I caught her attention and waved. This is what led to the ensuing lunacy.

     I should add that, while only friends, this lady and I slept together in college. It led to some weird problems and apparently implanted itself on my psyche more than normal. I should also say that the last time I saw this girl she'd gotten really fit and I complimented her on it. For what ever reason she decide to stop talking to me at that point.

     Anyway, back to the dream. My mother and I decided to leave the show mid way through it and go to my house, which was oddly right across the street. We decided to watch the rest of the show on t.v. and as soon as we turned it there was chaos. My lady friend went ballistic, screaming and running around. She kept yelling something about having to give up drinking and having a nervous break down and all because of some guy. It became kind of obvious that she refereed to me and that our encounter had sparked some sort of collapse.

     Her friends grabbed her and I ran across the street to offer help. As they drug her out of the studio I met them in the street and offered my home as a place to calm her down. This was a mistake as she just become even more disturbed. One of her friends told me to leave her alone and that I had no idea the problems she'd had, mainly with alcohol. My response to the girl was that lots of people have problems and that they should call me when she looses her child. Suddenly everyone got quiet and proceeded to persuade my friend to do the same.

     As will often happen in dreams everything suddenly changed. I was in the middle of another t.v. show, this time Northern Exposure, only it was all real. That is to say that it wasn't a set. Cicily, Alaska was a real place and all the characters where actual people. It seems that I had lived there amongst them a couple of years prior, moved off and now returned for a visit.

     As I trudged through the snow I came across a pile of notebooks and back packs. They were all things that I had used to write prior to my departure and had remained right where I dropped them two years ago. I began to search the area and came across an old house which I had apparently lived in. It was one room, had a bunk bed, a t.v. and shelves and shelves of papers and other things I had abandoned. Not only was everything in relatively good condition but, the Christmas lights I had strung around the room were still working and on.

     I laid down and began to watch t.v. I became more and more comfortable and happy with my discovery only to be shaken from my contentment by approaching noise. It was a bear. Apparently he had found my old place and claimed it as his own. I climbed to the top bunk and then out the window. In a state of absolute terror, I ran to town and consulted the first person I crossed.

     Who in Cicely,Alaska is still up late at night? Chris Stevens. I found him at the radio station and told him about my problem. Here I had discovered all these things that I thought I lost and now I couldn't retrieve them because of Smokey. Naturally, Chris wasn't phased. His approach was that if I had left all of these things behind, then I must not have needed them in the first place. I may really want them but, clearly I could do without. Chris' words of advice: "Let the bear have them." Suddenly, I felt a lot better. I knew he was right. The mountains of paper and collectibles no longer seemed like lost treasure but, like a giant weight now lifted from my shoulders.  Of coarse, I brought up, I have no place to stay. That's about the time I woke up.

     Normally I never remember dreams. I certainly never remember ALL of one. And, come to think of it, I don't think I've ever dreamed of t.v. characters, much less gotten advice from them. I don't even have to analyze the thing, it's all pretty cut and dry: leave past baggage in the past and focus on what's important today. Not bad, especially considering that I created it all while unconscious.