Don't turn your head..

So I came back from HorrorHound Indy to the announcement that McCain had picked Palin to be his VP.

Seriously?

I feel like this election is turning into highschool politics. How did he make this decision? Did he use a magic 8 ball? I understand you want to win but come on.

I'm moving out of the country if Obama does not win. I cried my eyes out when Bush was reelected and I REFUSE to be in a country where scum and bribery decides the leader of my country.

Even more so.. it ANGERS me when I try and have a political conversation with someone and their response is " I don't like politics". Just because you don't like them doesn't mean it exempts you from having an opinion. Having opinions and thoughts are what distinguish us from others. If you didn't have an opinion.. then we'd all be robots.

I understand the media is biased and lies but if you do enough research you will eventually get to the truth. Even if you can't find the truth.. find something and make it YOUR truth. Don't refuse to watch the news because it's depressing. It's important to know what is going on outside of our country. Trust me.. I woke up every morning and cried for a good two hours during the China earthquake and Myranmar disaster but you know what? Atleast I cried. Atleast I cared enough about other human beings to attempt to know what was going on. I didn't turn my head like most Americans. Why is it people think that if you ignore something it will go away. Didn't you do that as a child. Cover your eyes and it's not there. JUST BECAUSE YOU DON'T SEE IT DOESN'T MEAN IT'S NOT THERE!

Isn't it so damn obvious that when President Bush goes on National television and tells the US to pick McCain that WE SHOULD TURN AND RUN! The man with a 26 % approval rating.. the man that screwed our country.. is endorsing McCain?

DEAR GOD!

I told someone last night picking McCain after Bush endorses him is like picking a child molester to decide which babysitter you go with. Would you trust a child molester with that decision?

I wouldn't.

And for all the people that are voting other or McCain because Hillary didn't get it.

Please move to Mexico. I don't want you in my country.

True democrats my ass.

I can't fall asleep anymore without getting tears in my eyes. How am I supposed to plan to raise a family when I don't even feel comfortable being here? Do I really want to bring a child into this world with the world slowly deteriorating?

If there IS a God.. Obama will be President..

Real friends apply...

A quick thought.

I love my job. I love travelling around the country and meeting new people. But, it's starting to get a bit depressing.

I have hundreds of aquaintances and a handful of friends. It's almost like I'm desensitized to the world. You meet so many people but only .001 percent of those people will stay in your life.

Doesn't really help the dating life either.. most of the men around me are married, lying about their marriage, or are scum.

Everything is surface.

Just smile and laugh.

My Generation...

So this morning I got a text from my friend Michael Christopher. Included was him informing me of the passing of one of my good friends Grandfather.. and the fact he "signed" her blog.

I don't know WHAT got into me but I let loose a war of words on him.

What is wrong with my generation? Or even so.. what's becoming of other generations? When is it ok to convey information like that over a text message?

First of all, this girl is a good friend of mine. Love her to death. If I find out about her personal life.. it's because she calls me and tells me. I don't go subscribing to my friends blogs to keep updated on their lives.

Second.. do you want some sort of award for posting your condolences on her blog? Are you telling me in some way that since I haven't I should? Or because I haven't.. I don't know? Hell no. Is is THAT hard to write someone an email? You have to post a public showing of sympathy on her Myspace page? Seriously...

Third.. don't get mad at me for not being the one to call YOU and inform YOU of his passing? Do you feel entitled as a friend that I call you whenever one of our mutal Myspace friends goes through tough shit. Thanks for the call about her not attending the convention but this is different. If she wants to tell you she will.

Obviously you don't have her number for a reason.. IT MEANS YOU AREN'T A FRIEND. And no, being on her friends list does not count.

I'm on the verge of deleting my Myspace again. No one cares to call anymore. Everything is a Myspace comment or an email. If you really miss me.. dial my number.

Makes me wonder...

When I die, are people going to come to the funeral?

Or are they just going to post pictures of flowers in my Myspace comments?

Makes you think.

Shampoo Bottle Throwing Ghost...

So I'm not terrified by many things.

I LOVE ghosts. Anything paranormal I'm all about. Doesn't mean they don't terrify me. Ghost movies are my favourite for that reason. Anywaysssss...

Two nights ago I woke up in the middle of the night to release the tension in my bladder. Ha. So, being lazy and not wanting to completely wake myself up I decide to do all this without turning any lights on. I'm sitting down and all of a sudden I heard something in my shower. I have this humongous walk in shower and honestly.. if someone was in there the only way to know is if I went in too.

I obviously wasn't going to do that so I returned to my bed and decided to ignore it and go back to sleep. Well, I had the most terrifying nightmare ever that night. Basically there was "something" in my room that kept opening the doors to the closets and particularly the door to the creepy attic/storage area. The dream terrified me so bad that when I woke up in the middle of it I couldn't go back to bed and just laid there in fear.

It's hard to describe this because honestly.. you couldn't see what I was. It won't make much sense.. or even be scary to you. Fuck it. All of you are laughing at my patheticness right now.

So after watching a marathon of that new tv show "Psychic Kids" or whatever on A&E I went to bed around midnight. All of a sudden I was woken up by this loud sound. It sounded like someone took my shampoo and threw it in my bathroom. For the next half an hour or so I laid in my bed.. covers over my head... trembling, almost in tears. The sound wasnt stopping. I was convinced there was SOMETHING in my bathroom.

Finally I got the courage to jump out of bed and run downstairs. I got to the living room and the phone rang. It was Bob's cellphone. I answered too late. I tried calling back but it went straight to voicemail. Finally he answered.

HE WAS FUCKING LOCKED OUT AND HAD BEEN THROWING BOTTLES AT MY GOD DAMN BALCONY FOR THE PAST HALF AN HOUR.

When I answered the door I was literally shaking and crying. I was so terrified for nothing.



Of course I called Emma to tell her. I needed to tell someone! About 2 hours later after my body calmed I fell back asleep.



There. My paranormal experience. Ha.

The WORST date ever.. no joke...

So Friday night marked the worst date I've ever had.

No joke friends.

So I met Christopher at my work.. he's having some legal issues with his house (forclosure) and even though he's not my type.. he seems like a nice dude. Nate (my boss) invites him out with us for Saturday night.

Chris and I talked on the phone a few times and he seemed like a genuinely nice guy minus he's a bit slow. I guess smoking pot for 9 years will do that to you. I notice he gets stressed out easily.. I guess quitting smoking pot after 9 years 2 months ago will do that to you.

So Friday comes along and Geo decides to go to the Skynard show so I decide to go have a few drinks with Nate. He's already chilling in Little Italy. Chris and I talk and he wants to come out with us so I agree and he picks me up.

First off.. the dude takes longer to get ready than I do. Like wayyy longer. I'm ready and he comes like 2 hours after we make the plans and he's jumping in the shower. I don't understand what took the boy so long. He doesn't even like shave!

So he's late and we are heading to Little Italy. Second, the only music in his car is along the Breaking Benjamin type. Again.. not a good sign. Conversation in the car is ok but it seems he's maybe nervous or something. So we finally make it to Lounge Leo. Things go ok at first. He's asking stupid questions but hey.. some people don't know how to have a good conversation. We start drinking and from the start he's ordering massive drinks. Like every five minutes a shot. I'm cool with that.. I can handle my liquor. As the night progresses I'm not really into him. Nate and I are talking and he starts talking to this dude in the bar. It seems the conversation is a bit heated but I ignore it. He comes around like 15 minutes late and is talking about "wanting to beat that dudes ass" and blah blah blah. Typical guy shit. I again.. ignore it and just have myself a good time. He starts dancing with another girl at the bar and is flirting with the bartender... not a very good sign when you're on a date. He's actually pretty fucking wasted and I'm just waiting for him to calm down and sober up a bit.I even tell the bartendress to start serving him fake drinks so he can't get anymore drunk.He was SUPPOSED to be my ride home but since he cares nothing for my safety I decide Nate will drive me home or I'll get a cab.

Fast forward.. I'm trying to convince him to go to his truck and lay down but he pulls away from me and heads to the bathroom. Fast forward a bit more I go to check on him and he's laying between the toilet and the wall on the floor. The guy that was in there with him tells me he just started puking everywhere on the floor and he's basically incoherent. GREAT. Way to impress a woman eh. I see he's covered in puke. I try convincing him to sit up so he can drink some water but he's so drunk he keeps sliding back down. He starts dry heaving again and I hold his head over the toilet by grabbing his hoodie. After he stops I tell the guy to get some dudes so we can drag him in the car so he can sleep or atleast puke somewhere else so the people waiting to use the ONLY BATHROOM IN THE BAR can pee. I'm informed by the bartendress that he was short on hsi tab which ends up getting paid by Nate. These men try carrying him to his car but he refused to even use his legs so we throw him on the couch downstairs and he sleeps for a good 3 hours.

So now I'm completely embarassed and I have puke on me. Not to mention any buzz I achieved is now gone. The people in the bar find out he's my date and we just start making fun of him and the situation. I guess now I should just start laughing about the situation. I have his keys and if he's not sober by the time the bar closes he'll have to pick em out via cab to my house.. it's a good ways away too.

So there you go. I go out with a 25 yearold clean cut boy and this is what I end up with.

Now keep wondering why I've been single for over a year and a half.

See you in the 7th circle of hell...

*edit* This poem was written in approx. 8 minutes. It is in no way reflective of my writing ability.Also, my feelings towards the mentally handicapped.It is an abcb, efgf, hiji, ect style poem. Very Dr.Suess and meant to be simplistic and funny.So, calm down.

Every early morning,as the sun began to show,
Id look out my kitchen window,and peer down to the street below.
As if by some form of clockwork,.this man would always appear,
In hiked up running shorts,muttering words only he could hear.

His body was always twitching,a stupid smile adorned his face,
He was gearing up for his run,practicing for the Special Olympics race.
At first it was quite endearing,being his secret spying friend,
Til one day that tard fucked up,and I plotted out his end.

I had just left my apartment,exchanging smiles as we passed,
When all of a sudden I tripped,and fell directly on my ass.
Well the tard was not quite sympathetic,his laughter gave it away,
So I plotted in my head, his running would end today.

I got into my car,and buckled myself into the seat,
Then followed the fucking retard,as he was jogging down the street.
I made sure there was no one watching,no cars were anywhere in sight.
Then I reved up my engine,and ran him over at the light.

I guess he learned his lesson,
its not his place to point and laugh,
Cause God only made retards,
because of a thoughtless gaffe."

America's MOST NOTORIOUS (and best dressed!) television celebrity admits in an interview that he is a fraud!

Matthew Lesko just may be the biggest huckster in America, said Peter Carlson in The Washington Post. Invariably decked out in a bright suit festooned with question marks, Lesko has starred in countless infomercials in which he promises that if you just buy his books, DVDs, and tapes, he'll show you how to get "Free money!" from Washington. "If your insurance company tells you no," he shouts in a typical ad, "there may be a government program that will COVER YOU!" Lesko, an MBA with a gift for marketing, had his first success in 1982, when he boiled the 1,100-page Catalog of Federal Domestic Assistance down to 300 pages and retitled it Getting Yours: The Complete Guide to Government Money. It was a best-seller. "I plagiarized the whole thing," he says gleefully. "I didn't write a lick. I get stuff for free and I sell it for as much as I can get." Over the past 25 years, he's convinced more than 3 million people to buy one of these guides. Consumer advocates are not amused. In 2004, the New York State Consumer Protections Board called his ads "misleading" and "peppered with exaggerations." When he promised that you can "Get $600 for Each Child," for example, Lesko was simply describing the standard federal income tax deduction. Lesko is unapologetic. "If we're going to start crucifying people for hyperbole in this society, there's going to be a long line. If I were writing a diet book, I wouldn't say, 'It's going to take a lot of work and it'll be a pain in the butt.' I'd say, 'Thin thighs in 30 days!'"