To Riley

I was going to write a post about some woman in Wal-mart who screamed at me and called me stupid. But then I picked up my sleeping son and he put his arm around my neck and hugged me for the first time. Thus reminding me that people like her don't matter.

Myspace Retards

Okay we all know that I'm not a big fan. But recently I've been using is as the communication tool it can (kind of) be and it's been fun. I guess. When you mess around on the net as much as I have in the past few months, you are bound to see all kinds of things. Well, I saw one today that truly offended the senses, so I decided to go completely overboard with it. As usual.

If you have a Myspace, chances are you have people on your friends list who you don't know and frankly, you aren't quite sure how they got there either. If your mystery friends are anything like mine, from time to time you will see surprising little idiocies. Like they may leave you a weird, sparkly comment saying "You're Hawt", or they may fight with your brother's girlfriend all over your comment box (true story). But I've got the topper.

I don't know who "MandyGirl" is, but she posted a bulletin sometime this weekend saying "Girls: If you live in the DC area and want to babysit this weekend, hit me up!" Or something equally stupid. Now I saw this and I said to myself, she can't possibly be searching Myspace for a babysitter. This is probably some trick chain letter retarded thing. But I had to know, so stupidly, I opened it.

Sure enough, this woman was looking for a babysitter. On Myspace. You know, strangers. In Josh's words "Where everybody could be somebody else." She wanted to go to some show so bad that she was polling Child Molester Central, other wise known as the internet, for a friggin babysitter. In case you haven't figured out my standing on this, it's basically WTF.

Why not just leave your kids home alone, chick. Better yet, as you're walking out the door just hang a big sign in the front yard saying, "Hello Strangers! My kids are home alone! Feel free to check in and do whatever you want with them!"

It's bad enough that people you know are likely to do something horrible to your kids. Professionals and relatives are routinely showing up on the news as rapists, kidnappers and murderers. Or, you know, all three. I can't believe this girl. What the hell is wrong with her. I think I might leave her my first (and likely last) comment as one of her mystery friends. It will read something like:

Dear Ms.Mandy,
I'm sure the state of Virginia would love to know that you are intending to hire a stranger from the internet to watch your children. I'll tell you what...I'll go ahead and call them and let them know that you are an IDIOT, undeserved of the capabilities to breed, and they will probably just come in and take the kids off your hands for you. That way, you can go to whatever show you want and not have to worry about it. Ever.

Have a nice day.





But that's just my rough draft.

Tough Love

Okay so here it is. If I offend you, it's because I love you. And this is probably what you need to hear, whether you like it or not.

You really think you're tough, but guess what. You're not. You hide behind prescriptions, cigarettes and alcohol but I know you. I know how you're feeling because if you remember, what happened to you, happened to me too. But I don't hide. What makes you a tough person, what makes you strong is getting up, every day and facing LIFE. If you can get up in the morning and feel the pain and resist the urge to drown it in one kind of oblivion or another and you can function in the real world day in and day out then...THEN you are tough. But if you tell yourself you can't do it and you numb your brain and fake your life then you are weak.

I know you're bigger than me and I know you're in pain. But turn on the news. The whole WORLD is in pain. These days, the people who actually face their lives with a clear mind are few and far between. Doing drugs or partying and getting so drunk you can't see straight doesn't make you special. It makes you a statistic. And it robs you of the proud moment, after the rain, when you can say "I made it through." You've heard the analogies. The moth needs to struggle through the cocoon, the chicken needs to break through the egg, newborns have to push through the birth canal and you need to GET OVER IT.

That's right I said it. Get over it. To use another cliche, shit happens. You're not the first or the last to ever have a hard time. Yes there is pain, but you must feel it. You must feel it, accept it, and then move on. What do we do to shit when it happens? That's right. Flush it. Forget it. Wash your hands.

Life is short! This is one lesson you absolutely can't miss. You only get ONE. Your life is yours to do what you wish. If you'd like to sit around and mope, then by all means. Just don't complain when it's all said and done and you haven't actually experienced anything. That was your choice, after all. Speaking from a strictly personal point of view, this fact keeps me in line daily. I say, feel absolutely everything that comes your way. The good and the bad. But don't let it own you. Consider, and I mean REALLY, the fact that you may not have five more minutes. That is reality. It's actually one of the only true things we know. Our time is limited, and unless you plan on suicide you have no idea when it will be through.

So take a deep breath and make a decision to live your life. I remember when you really were strong. Where do you think I learned it? Don't forget I'm not the only one who is counting on you to pull through this. Don't let the fact that even He denied any release from the pain, escape you.

There is a reason.

Deviant Reborn

I had this huge account on Deviantart but then I went and forgot my password and the email address I had under that name doesn't exist anymore soooo.... *deep breath*

I made a new account. And a very quickly done new vector piece to start out with WOOT!

My new account is: ashestome.deviantart.com Yesh.

They have this new "Pasties" thing I want to add here so you can see little thumbnails of my new stuff if I ever actually make anymore. Here's hoping. But anyways, I'll have to get to that later. I'm exhausted.

Check me out and make me your friend or I'll waste your wretched life! :-]

A good man is hard to find

I really hate to put two negative posts back to back like this, but I can guarantee I am in a far better mood this time than I was with the previous post. The reasons for this are two fold:

1. I have been abandoned yet again, but this time I can tell myself it's not really my problem. It IS problem, but at least it doesn't rub itself in my face daily by the presence of an empty seat at the dinner table.
2. I have just returned from leaving my paper route in the hands of some other poor sap. And he was afraid he wouldn't get the job. I would have given it to a monkey at this point.

So since I really hate my sad face, I've put on my "screw you" face and now I'm just angry. The fact that I have a child and he requires me to be somewhat of a normal person is the only thing that keeps me from basically just giving the world the finger right now. But my attitude has admittedly changed. So much so that I actually exacted a little revenge on one of my more annoying customers last night on my last run on the route. Hah, let me explain.

This one guy apparently has nothing better to do than wake up every morning and analyze the positioning of the news paper in his mail box. He made it very clear from the beginning that he wanted to have the paper IN his mail box everyday and NOT in his driveway. Upon receiving that message, I have always put the paper in the box, not like it's a huge deal or anything. At least, not to any normal human being. This guy also has a very charming way of tipping me the grand total of one dollar every month. While I think this is almost a waste of time, it never really bothered me.

Until this month when he only tipped .50 cents. He wrote this nasty little note on the bill saying one day I did not put the paper in the box when I know for a fact I did. It's not friggin rocket science. So he said he was taking half of my tip because of it. I found this extremely offensive. Why even bother?! I don't need your friggin fifty cents you decrepit old geezer! At that moment I devised a plan. Something small, perfectly legal and he probably wouldn't even get it but it would mean something to ME. So yesterday morning I dropped the paper in his DRIVEWAY with two shiny quarters on top of it. Sit on THAT and spin, Mr. Mason.

But on to my reason for this title. It's kind of my policy not to get into the details of anyone else's personal life in my blog, I just don't think I have a right to do that. You can probably figure out the gist of what has happened by my description of what is going on in my head right now, but I am admitting nothing about the actual events.

I am no fool. I know I have a good thing in Josh. Unfortunately for the rest of the world, he is the exception, not the rule. It has been my experience that when a man is presented by an opportunity that seems more intriguingly at the moment, and given the choice between me and that opportunity, he will always choose something else. No matter what it is. Even if it's a big, fat, over-tanned bleach blonde lolly-pop. Or in the other case, drugs and alcohol.

I don't know what I did to deserve all this, but it is only counter-balanced by the wonderful home life I have now. It's a shame I can't say the same for my first nineteen years. Yes, I'd love to leave all of it behind me but it seems to just keep piling up though I've been away from "home" for several years now. I'm not going to pretend that I'm the only one who has been hurt by all this either. I know my mother and Mike especially are hurt too. And hurt is pretty much the understatement of the century. There are plenty of people with "daddy issues" out there (which only further proves to me that they are all pretty much deserters in the end) but I don't know of anyone but us who has been burned TWICE. Doesn't that just seem like a little over-kill? I mean, wasn't there some other poor, unsuspecting family out there who could have taken the hit this time?

I won't ever trust this particular man with my heart again especially since he recently broke it about a month ago. I actually gave him a second chance, which I NEVER do. I'm sorry, but I'm not Jesus. Burn me once shame on you but burn me twice...well it aint gonna happen. Except in this case. It's just amazing the gaping hole that the absence of a father leaves on someone. I really wanted someone to call me "sweetheart" and love me like only a dad can. So much for that.

If I'm getting too personal, sue me.

At this point I'm wishing Riley hadn't been a C-section so that I could go on to have ten boys and raise them all up like decent men so the world would have somewhat of a fighting chance. Ten good daddies in the future is something to live for. The best I can hope for now are two more boys, since they only let you have three surgeries. The Sammons have a pretty good track record for producing males so...here's hoping.

Well, here's my little man now. I don't even have a good line to end this on.

My bad.