The Barbara Walters Special

Hey! Look! I'm updating again! It looks like there are less people reading my blog these days, but I think it's either because I went so long between posts, or because my last post was about video games and eBay. There's only been one person who has even guessed at my contest. I've been changing the header above my blog with each new post, and whoever is able to pick out where all 5 quotes are from will win a prize. The header up top is the third, so I guess I'll have to recap the first two. The first was
"A catatonic leisure at 1,000 miles per hour"
and the second was...
"How do you feel patient nine-five-seven?"
Di has a guess in on the first one, but I won't say whether the guesses are right or wrong until all five are up, and everyone is done guessing. I'm going to try to keep some sort of contest running on my blog most of the time, because I think that they're fun. Plus, I think the prize on this one is pretty damn cool.

So there's this "interview" thing going around, and I caught it from my wife. You can read how it works at the bottom. Here are my answers to her questions...

1. If you could spend one day with your mother, what would you do?
That's a really good question. Mom passed 11 years ago, so there's a great deal that's happened since then that I would want to share with her. We used to have a special park that we'd go to to hang out and talk, which is where I met Marissa. When I told Christa that I wanted to meet Marissa, I wanted to meet her some place that was special to me, which is why I suggested the park. I'd love to take my family to that park, and just sit down and talk with mom. Introduce her to my family that she's never met, my wife, and my daughters. Talking is so underrated these days, and so easily people take their loved ones for granted. I'd just love to talk, take pictures, and catch up. It's been so long. I think that I sometimes subconsciously make an effort not to think about her, because of how sad I get when I actually do. Until she passed away, my mom was my best friend, and it was really hard to lose her. Even just one day at the park is all I'd need.

2. What is your number 1 favorite video game of all time? Why?
This question easily solidifies my position within the nerd community, but I could care less. I'm a nerd. This is a hard question though. It makes me think of the scene in Mallrats when Claire Forlani asks Jason Lee what which comic book character he would be. "What does one gauge his response on? Physical prowess? Keen detection skills? The ability to banter well with super villains?" Having played hundreds and hundreds of video games over the course of my lifetime, I would have to say that there is no possible way for me to pick a single favorite video game of all time. I have, instead, compiled a top ten list, because I'm fanatical like that. Here goes (women, feel free to skip this section):
10 - Tactics Ogre: The Knight Of Lodis (Game Boy Advance, 2002) This game is like chess, with hundreds more variables. I love chess. I told you I was a nerd. You can use close to 25 different classes of characters (way more than chess), plus it's on the GBA, so it's portable. Can't beat that.
09 - Rival Schools: United By Fate (Playstation, 1998) Now everyone remembers Street Fighter, right? Take Street Fighter, and turn all of the fighters into Japanese high schoolers. Now make the reasons that they're fighting completely ridiculous. Now you have Rival Schools. I lived with three other guys about 5 years ago. Every couple nights, we'd all grab a six pack and beat the shit out of each other using characters that swung bats, kicked soccer balls, and even spiked volleyballs. Man those were fun times.
08 - Metroid (playable by clicking this link) (Nintendo Entertainment System, 1986)This was one of the first free-roaming action/adventure games to hit it big. Enter Planet Zebes and destroy the Mother Brain. Sounds simple enough, right? It was, after you got the wave beam. The coolest twist? After you beat the game, your character (Samus Aran) takes the spacesuit off. Guess what? You were a chick the whole damn time, and never even knew it!! How freakin' cool is that?!?
07 - Grand Theft Auto: Vice City (playstation 2, 2003)Yes, in a video game setting, I do like to shoot innocent bystanders and run over as many helpless pedestrians as I can. But that's not what made this game the shit. The ENTIRE game takes place in the 80s, and guess what those masterminds over at Rockstar Games did? They put genuine 80s music on all of the radio stations in the cars you steal and ram into stuff! It was pure genius. The whole game plays out like a cross between Miami Vice and Scarface. They even got Tubbs from the original Miami Vice to do a voiceover. And, to top it all off, Ray Liotta does the voice work for the main character. The only thing cooler than that would have been Mr. T!
06 - Castlevania II: Simon's Quest (playable by clicking this link) (Nintendo Entertainment System, 1988) Sequel to one of the coolest games ever made. I'm not too shabby at video games, but I have to say that the first Castlevania game was the hardest freakin' game in the world to beat. The only thing that made the second one better was the ability to free roam. Additionally, the music and graphics were much better as well. Oh, plus, you get to carry around Dracula's rib with you. Who wouldn't want to do that?
05 - Mike Tyson's Punch-Out (playable by clicking this link) (Nintendo Entertainment System, 1987) Okay, bitch-ass Nintendo released two versions of this gem, one titled Mike Tyson's Punch-Out, in which Mike Tyson is your opponent in the last match, and the second, called only Punch-Out, which replaced the original once Iron Mike got into trouble with the law. The last match in "rew, retarded" Punch-Out, is some bitch named Mr. Dream. You'd think with a name like that, it'd be a catfight. Wanna see how hard Mike was -to beat? Click the link for this one, and put in the password 007-373-5963 (yes, I'm lame enough to still remember it). Give him a shot. Yeah, I didn't beat him until I was 23 years old, if that tells you anything.
04 - Tetris (playable by clicking this link) (Nintendo Entertainment System, 1989) There can't be too many people out there that aren't familiar with Tetris. It's one of the most addictive games ever. I even got Christa and DammitJen to play a newer version of it on the PS2 the other night. The best thing to come out of Russia since Vodka.
03 - Phantasy Star II (Sega Genesis, 1988) This one makes me a dork for sure. I remember renting this game over and over and over when it came out. My mom let me rent this one for sooo long, we could have bought it in rental fees alone. Then we turned around and bought it anyway. I think maybe I liked it so much because of my love for Anime.
02 - 720° (Arcade) If I had taken all of the quarters I dumped into these machines when I was a kid, and put them into a bank account instead, I'd probably have a couple thousand dollars in interest by now. I have always been into skateboarding, and in 1986, Atari finally tapped into the scene. My mom and I used to take trips out to Vegas to visit her mom. In those days, it was safe to leave your kids in the casino arcades, and I played this game until I nearly had carpal tunnel. My mom was always a good gambler, so she'd check in on me every 30 minutes or so with a fresh roll of quarters. Those were good times. I miss that. I've always wanted to own an arcade game, and if I could pick any game on the planet, it'd easily be this one. I saw one for sale recently for $850. I consider that a steal, but NOWHERE near within our budget. One day though, we'll have this in our garage. Maybe Ms. Pac-Man too.
01 - The Legend Of Zelda (playable by clicking this link) (Nintendo Entertainment System, 1987) My brother and I played this one to death. This was one of the first games to actually make you feel as if you were on a quest. It's spawned several sequels, but none as good as the first. Your mom would probably even get a kick out of it. I still play it from time to time.

Honorable Mention:
Bionic Commando (playable by clicking this link) (Nintendo Entertainment System, 1988)
Blaster Master (playable by clicking this link) (Nintendo Entertainment System, 1988)
Top Skater (Arcade, 1997)
Zillion (playable by clicking this link) (Sega Master System, 1987)
Mega Man (playable by clicking this link) (Nintendo Entertainment System, 1987)
Ghouls 'n Ghosts (playable by clicking this link) (Sega Master System, 1990)
Kid Icarus (playable by clicking this link) (Nintendo Entertainment System, 1987)
Smash TV (Arcade, 1991)
Ms. Pac-Man (Arcade,)
Space Harrier (playable by clicking this link) (Sega Master System, 1986)

3. If you could go back and change one thing that you have done, would you? What would it be?
This one is pretty hard to answer too, since I've unfortunately done a lot of things in my life that I regret. Most of the things I regret have turned out okay in the end, so I'm going to pick one that didn't. This one's a two-parter, and if I could go back and change it, I would, without question. When my mom started to get sick, she convinced herself that she just had an ulcer, and refused to see a doctor. We all tried to coerce her into going, but she just wouldn't have it. I never thought about it too much, and didn't push her very hard to go. I truly believe that if any one of us actually could have persuaded her to see a physician, it would have been me, but I didn't try hard enough. When she finally agreed to be seen, it was much too late. Her doctor gave her less than a year. I've always thought that maybe if I pushed her just a little harder, maybe they could have caught it soon enough to remove the cancer. But I didn't, and I can't go back and change it. The other thing I regret, is not being there when she passed. She had held on for longer than the doctor anticipated, largely bedridden, but had been losing weight rapidly, due to an inability to eat without a feeding tube. Hospice was at our house regularly, and regulated how much she should be "eating". On the weekend of November 10th, in 1994, I went out of town to spend the weekend with my girlfriend in Oceanside. My little brother, then 9, went to stay the night at a friend's house. I spent about 20 minutes saying goodbye, but it wasn't enough, because she wasn't there when I got back. The night I left, after my brother and I had both left the house, she pulled out her feeding tube, and passed gently into the night. To this day, my brother and I still speculate she did it purposefully while we were both out of the house, so we wouldn't be there when it happened. After my stepdad called to tell me what had happened, I sunk into feeling there was no reason to ever even come home again. I believe that's most of the reason I moved out shortly thereafter. I regret not being there to hold her hand when she died. I regret it very, very much.

4. Do you believe in aliens?
My wife and I watch a lot of "alien related" stuff. Last week we finally finished watching Steven Speilberg's Taken, and it was awesome. As for the existence of "real" aliens? I think in a universe this expansive (without end?), it would be naive to think that there isn't a single other form of life out there. It's an incredibly interesting topic to read about as well. I saw what I believe to be a UFO once when I was in seventh grade. My friend Matt was sleeping over, and we were up, oddly enough, playing The Legend Of Zelda. It was around midnight, and the sky outside was clear. Out my window, I saw a slowly rotating row of lights, in the shape of a small disc off in the distance. I said nothing, and watched it, almost mesmerized. About thirty seconds later, Matt noticed that I was quiet, and looked out the window to see what I was staring at. I glanced over at him to affirm that he saw it too, and that what I was seeing wasn't in my imagination. There was a look of horror on his face that I can't describe, and to this day, still don't understand. It hovered slowly across the sky for about a minute and a half, then took off much faster than the speed of sound (although I heard no "sonic boom"), as it seemed to cross the entire sky in less than a second. Matt sat staring into the empty sky for a few more minutes, his look of horror fading into fear. Each time I spoke to him, he seemed to shudder a bit, and shy further away from where we were originally sitting. Less than ten minutes later, Matt had positioned himself in the space between my bed and the wall, put his head down, and remained motionless. He did not speak again that night. Or the next day before he left. Stranger still, I never saw Matt again, even though he was in two of my classes. He just disappeared. His phone was even disconnected less than a week later. If I were making this up, I'd probably say that I don't believe in aliens, but it really happened. So yes, I do believe that aliens exist.

5. If you could only use one utensil for the rest of your life (knife, spoon, or fork) which would it be?
I eat most food with my hands anyway. The only thing I really use utensils for is soup. Sometimes I'll use a spoon for pizza. Seriously though, I think I'd have to choose the utensil that I designed. it's a combination of a fork and a knife. I mean, if they can make a damn "spork", then I can make my "knork". it's a fork with a knife's blade on one of the outermost tines. The blade is a bit recessed however, so that you will not cut the side of your mouth on it while you are dumping food down your gullet. So yeah, I'd go with knork.


So that's it for the interview. here are the rules, so that I can ask people some awesome questions...

The Official Interview Game Rules
1. If you want to participate, leave a comment below saying "interview me."
2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person's will be different.
3. You will update your journal/blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Just A Few Days Late...

Yeah, I know I said I'd post every three days, but you know what? I lied. Suckers.
In all honesty, I had planned on it, but I'm only married to one of you, so I'm not too worried about it. It's been hot enough to use the pool lately, so we've been in there a lot. I'm going to rant in a minute, but first, I'm going to offer a little bit of background.

I'm not afraid to admit that I'm a big nerd. I've had a bad habit that has spanned my entire lifetime. Collecting stuff. Sports cards, comic books, action figures, Star Wars memorabilia, CDs, etc. Most of those collections have died off, but of course, I found something else to collect, which is unfortunately been the most expensive of all of them. I thought it would be fun to collect video games. I grew up in an era when video games were first surfacing, and they were a big part of my childhood. I don't play them anywhere near as much as I used to, but I do here and there when I find time. My collection has gotten pretty large, and Christa was kind enough to let me use our second living room as my gaming room and storage area.

As you can see, it's pretty crazy, and I have to give her a lot of points for this, considering that she isn't all that fond of video games in the first place. I very scarcely remember my real dad buying our first Atari way back in 1983. Then my little brother and I bonded with Super Mario back in 1987, and we've both played games since. I imagine most people think that it's pretty retarded that I'm 28 and still play with toys, but hey, at least I don't bowl. Anyway, over the past two years of collecting, I've found that eBay is one of the better places to find deals on harder-to-find games and older systems. A really good friend of mine recently gave me an awesome Sega Master System from way back in 1986. Back in the day, I always preferred this system to the more popular NES, so receiving this as a gift was really, really cool. Unfortunately, eBay is about the only place you can find games and accessories for the older systems like this anymore. So I take a look around there from time to time, to see what I can find, and to get a general idea what the market value for stuff I already have is. eBay has gotten CRAZY. And here is where my rant begins...

Number 1 - Don't quadruple the god-damned shipping cost! If you're trying to sell something for a certain price, mark the price at what you want for it, and charge actual shipping. DON'T charge me $0.01 for the item, and think I'm stupid enough to believe that a 3 ounce cable costs $7.99 to ship! I know, for a fact, that it isn't iron-plated. You don't think, even for a second, that I'm going to "figure it out" when it shows up with two 34 cent stamps on it?!
Number 2 - Don't try to sell me some stupid get-rich-quick scheme. Seriously, who are these people that spend $15 on this shit?! On top of that, if you don't have a picture of an actual product you are selling, don't put your freakin' face up there where the picture goes. All that does, is give me an identity to be pissed off. Even more, DON'T disguise your bullshit auction as something legitimate, that's just fucking stupid.
Number 3 - "Mint condition" isn't a term that should be thrown around lightly. If you're selling something that comes in a box, and the box is all banged up, it is NOT in mint condition. Mint condition means that whatever you are selling should look like it came from the store when it was originally sold. Are these people really stupid enough to think that when the item shows up at my door, I won't know the difference? A lot of these assholes prey on the chances that you won't want to deal with the trouble of returning it, so they could care less. Which brings me to...
Number 4 - Feedback. Whose bright fucking idea was this? Feedback is like communism, it looks nice on paper, but it works about as well as a Richard Simmons diet. The fact that anyone you "do business with" can leave whatever feedback they want, for whatever reason they want is ridiculous. On top of that, it's a pain to have it withdrawn when some jerk-off leaves a negative feedback bacause you didn't e-mail him within 20 minutes of the end of the auction, so he could tell you he wasn't planning on paying for 37 days. Yeah, that really happened to me. Another neat thing about feedback is retaliation. It's always pleasant when someone knows they are going to fuck you over, and waits to leave you feedback until they see if you are going to leave a negative first. If you do, they do, just because they can. Even if you paid immediately, and followed all of the auction terms, if you leave a negative feedback because they shipped your item four weeks after you paid for it, you can bet their logic will tell them that you deserve the negative because you left them one. I still have a 100% feedback rating after 261 transactions, and believe me, it hasn't been easy.
Number 5 - If something is a bootleg from Hong Kong, just say so in the fucking description! It saves me a lot of time looking into it to find out for myself.
Number 5 - If your English is THAT broken, use the damn spell check.

I could go on and on, but this rant doesn't even apply to everyone, plus I have yardwork to do. I might get another post up later today, we'll see what happens.

A Happy Belated Birthday...

I met Marissa when she was about five and a half months old. Christa and I hadn't started a romantic relationship yet, but it was on it's way. I met her at the park, and it was the first real interraction I had ever had with a child that young. I was bewildered, infatuated, and smitten. Her real dad chose not to be around during this time, and as my relationship with Christa got more serious, so did my relationship with Marissa. I missed the first five months, but was sure to not miss anything else after. First time crawling, first steps, first words, and every first after that. She was my first child. We never promoted her calling me "daddy", so instead, she has always called me "Bee Bee", which was her first incarnation of "Bryan". I was carrying her down the street at night the first time she counted to ten, it was Christmastime, and we were counting the houses on the street that had lights up. She's only gotten more brilliant since. I couldn't possibly be more proud of her.

She's not like any of the other kids that are her age. She's never mean. She reads at a seventh grade level. She's seen nearly every episode of Friends. She uses words like "hydraulic" in sentences frequently. She surfs the net. She's been in ballet, dance class, and karate, and is always willing to try something new (unless we're talking about food, lol). She's the BEST big sister EVER, and loves family time. She rocks at Pictionary, and will take you down playing Mancala. She's smart enough to try to cheat at Chutes and Ladders though, so we don't play that anymore. She'd give you the shirt off her back, if she thought you needed it more than she did. She knows who Deftones are, can recite the Killers' "Somebody Told Me", and will frequently ask to listen to a CD from my collection at random. Same thing with movies. Her request last night, was Shaun Of The Dead, which we watched, and laughed and laughed. She wants to be Meatwad from Aqua Teen Hunger Force this year for Halloween. I might be a Moononite.

I have no idea what my life would be like without her, but I'm lucky that I'll never, ever find out. Last year, I started giving her flowers for her birthday. I sent them to her Kindergarten class. Six tulips, one for each year since her birth. This year, I sent three tulips, three daisies, and a rose to her first grade class, she really gets a kick out of it.

She's the most incredible 7 year-old you could possibly imagine. Happy birthday Belly-Bot, I love you.


Aquarium Of The Pacific '03

I Know, I Know...

It has recently come to my attention that people DO notice if I don't post. I really don't mean to be a slacker, but things have been really busy around here. I've been really, really bad about commenting as well, I'm out of touch with the blogger world. I have an idea though...
I'm going to try to post at least once every three nights. I know I'm a long-winded sonofabitch, so I'm going to give myself one hour to post. If I'm not done writing in an hour, I'll stop where I am and post it. May not be complete or coherent, but it'll be something. It's not as forced as it sounds though, I really do love my blog, it just seems like there's always something else I need to do.

I'm not sure if anyone's noticed, but I've been changing the line below the title of my blog every time I post. If someone can tell me where all of the quotes are from over the next two weeks, they'll get a prize. I just want to see if anyone can do it.

So what's new you ask? Birthdays. May is a bastard, lemme tell you. The 11th, Marissa's birthday (7), the 14th, Christa's birthday (not my business to tell you), the 15th, Jen's birthday (25?), the 19th, my sister's birthday, and the 29th, Phoebe's birthday (1). Jesus Christ, people must really get down in July. I give Marissa flowers for her birthday every year, one for each year old she is. Last year I sent them to her school, and this year I'm doing the same, I have to remember to call them in tomorrow. She also wants a drum set. Um. I think if we were to buy her a drum set, it would be considered masochistic. Christa wants to get her some tambourines. I'm frightened. I have a few ideas for what to get Christa, but I'm still working on Phoebe. Christa's dad said that she's too young to know the difference, and that she doesn't need any presents. A smack to his mouth was nearly in order. If you're a parent, and you aren't getting your child any gifts on his/her first birthday, I will be paying you a visit, and not the Santa Claus or Tooth Fairy kind.

The Kraken opened my eyes a bit wider to an injustice that is being done to me each time I shop at Best Buy. Anyone know what we're talking about before I have to say it? Been there recently? Go look at your receipt. It has fucking chapters. It's like nine feet long. As evidenced by the picture below, my receipt today was actually much taller than my purchases.



As a matter of fact, it's taller than my purchases even when folded in half. For the sake of curiousity, I got Christa's measuring tape out. 21 never-ending inches long! I think that's almost as tall as Phoebe. After my transaction was completed, and they gave me my receipt/novel, I tracked down a Best Buy manager. I wanted to know why they do this to us. The manager was a young girl, maybe 24 years-old. She didn't understand my question. After a few minutes, I grew tired of her over-explanation of the "exciting survey" at the bottom, where I "have a chance to win a $500 Best Buy gift certificate." Do you want to know why I'm not interested? If I were to somehow win their stupid survey contest, you know what I'd get after I made my purchases? Yep, a 937 foot receipt that they could use to follow me home with. Once I got home with the top end of the receipt, the bottom end would just be leaving the fucking store.

The ice cream truck rolled by today, so Marissa and I flagged it down, and got ice cream for all of us. I got the Powerpuff Girls bar, just so you know. Phoebe is breast fed, so she can't have dairy. Wanting to share my ice cream, I had to pick something that had no milk in it. I promise that's the only reason I got the one with the Powerpuff Girls on it. Really. So Phoebe is obsessed. I have no earthly idea where she puts is all, but that kid is completely and totally obsessed with food. Food, drink, crumbs, dirt, sand, bugs, pretty much anything that she can fit into her mouth hole. Don't believe me? Ask KB, she saw me have to pry the sand from Phoebe's hands while she tried to shovel it into her mouth in the sandbox at Elaine's house. So, I shared my ice cream. She didn't so much eat it as paint her face with it. She nearly had an anuerysm when it was gone.



She also has an affinity for all things Starbucks. She totally freaks out for it. Once she sees the green straw, it's like letting Michael Jackson into a cub scouts meeting. She doesn't even know what's in those cups, but she will crawl across the entire front yard to try to get her hands on one.



That's about it for tonight. I should already be in bed, but I figure that if I didn't finally post tonight, I'd probably just keep putting it off.
Sorry honey.

"Can You Spare..."

I had a very strange encounter this evening. Before I go into details, let me provide a bit of background. Please read on though, it gets interesting at the end...

I had my first experience with homelessness when I was about nine, and it's one of the only truly clear memories I possess. That's not to say that I had never seen it, but I had my first real encounter with it at that age. Before my mother passed away, once per week, our family would pick up a take-out pizza. Sometimes my mom would go to pick it up, and sometimes my stepdad would go, but I ALWAYS went, without fail. My stepdad liked to go to the Straw Hat in the middle of the city, and mom liked to go to the Little Ceasar's downtown. Downtown was not a "bad" area, but it was worse off than the middle of the city was, and you could tell by looking around. I always liked downtown, because even at the age of nine, it had more character than the rest of the city to my eyes. One evening, while my mom and I were getting out of the car to go grab us some pepperoni goodness, she was approached by a very haggard middle-aged man, whom I heard ask her for some change, stating that he was hungry. She replied "I'll see how much change I have after we get our pizza, I hope that helps." And inside we went. At that age, I never wondered whether or not everyone in the world had enough food to eat, or a place to sleep at night, because frankly, it just never occurred to me. When we got inside, I asked my mom why the man didn't have enough money to buy his own food. She explained to me that she had seen the man downtown for the past several years, drinking whiskey outside of the local liquor stores. She also told me that she had given him money on a few occasions, only to see him walk inside a gas station, and use the money to buy beer. I was nine, but I knew what beer was, I wasn't stupid, just naive. I asked her why he would lie to people, because like I said, I was naive. She explained that the man wasn't lying entirely, and that he probably was hungry, and didn't have a home to sleep at. This shocked me, and made me scared for the man, as I worried that he would starve. My mother and I talked about this as we waited for the pizza, and she explained that she hadn't brought very much money with her (as we didn't have much to begin with while I was growing up), and had enough to cover the pizza, but not much else. I got to thinking, and asked her if we could give the man what we had left after we bought the pizza. My mother was always a very generous woman, and smiled when she told me that we would. When my mother paid for the pizza, the woman behind the counter handed her only coins as change, so I knew it could not be more than a dollar. I thought about the price of our pizza, and how little a dollar was when you needed to buy food. As we made our way toward the door, I reminded my mom that I had just been paid my allowance of $2.50, and asked if it would be okay with her if I gave it to the man. She stopped at the door and smiled at me. "I'm proud of you for thinking of other people, and wanting to be helpful, but I think that you should keep your money, and we'll give him the change from the pizza. I'll leave it up to you though, if that's what you would like to do with your allowance, the money is yours" she said. We walked out the door, and were met at our car by the man dressed in dirty. He said nothing as he waited for us to arrive at the car, but muttered a polite "thank you" as my mother handed him the change. I smiled at him as I reached into my pocket and pulled out my allowance, which I never left home without. The man looked confused as I offered the money to him, and glanced to my mom, as if for approval. She offered a polite smile, and nodded her head. "It's okay, you can have it", I said to the man. He took the money gently from my hand, still unsure, and put it into his pocket. "Thank you kind sir", he whispered to me as he turned around, and made his way out of the parking lot. My mom and I got into the car and buckled our seatbelts. "That was very nice of you" she said, without starting the car. I asked her why we weren't going home, and she replied "Wait, there's something I want you to see." She pointed to the man, who was making his way toward the liquor store a few shops down. We waited, and watched. A few minutes later, he emerged from the doorway carrying a brown paper bag, the contents of which we all know. She asked if I felt as if I had made a mistake giving the man my allowance. I told her that I did not. When she asked why, I explained to her that everyone in the world needs something to make them happy, even if it's just beer. "Maybe he didn't buy food, and maybe he lied to us, but if you look at him now, he's smiling", I said. We both seemed happy with this outcome, and we drove home. We ate our pizza, and afterward, I received another allowance.

Since the day that happened, I have always given panhandlers what I can spare. If I have change, or an extra dollar or two, I always hand it away. It's never mattered to me what they plan to do with it, so long as it's appreciated. It's a fucked up world we live in, and everyone needs some solace. I don't think that anyone should have to live on the street, even though I know that in reality, some of these people have done it to themselves. In a country with this much money floating around in the hands of the rich, it always amazes me that one person can have seven TVs in their SUV, while another person gets their lunch from a dumpster. Now, on to my point...

Tonight, Christa and I realized that we needed half & half for coffee in the morning, since we were almost out. She gave me a couple bucks, and asked if I'd mind running to the gas station and picking some up. I said "no problem" and grabbed the keys. On my way inside the shop, there was a woman lingering about outside, who said nothing to me as I entered. I bought the over-priced $2.79 gas station half & half with $3, which left me 21 cents. On my way out, I was prepared to hand the woman the change, but not at all prepared for what happened next. As I passed her, she quietly asked if she could ask me a question. "Sure" I replied. She asked me how old I was. Confused, I told her that I was 28. I thought maybe she was going to ask me to buy her beer or cigarettes. She didn't. "Well, see, I don't have anywhere to live, and I've been staying at this house where they charge me $10 a night to sleep". "Okay", I say. "I don't have the money tonight, and it's starting to get a little cold outside." I agreed that it was getting a bit cold tonight. "Do you think that maybe if I give you a blow job, you could give me $10?"

I was completely blindsided. Shocked. Speechless. Sad.

"My wife sent me down here with just enough money for what I bought. I have 21 cents left, and you're welcome to it." I put the change into her frail, unwavering hand. "Do you think you could get some money, and come back here for a blow job?" I was beginning to feel sick. "No, I can't. Like I said, I have a wife, and that's nothing I'd be willing to do, but thanks for the offer, I guess." At that point, I think she started mumbling something about Jesus, or where she was going to get the money. My heart sank as I drove home. I wish that I could have done something to help her, WITHOUT the blow job. I wish that Christa and I had the money to spare. I wish that you could trust a stranger in your house when you have kids. I wish that we had spare blankets. I wish that nobody takes that woman up on her offer. I wish our world were different.

Things would have to be pretty fucking horrible for you to have to offer sexual favors for money. And I guess they'd have to be just as bad for you to to have to accept sexual favors for money. I can't even explain how sad it makes me that there is a woman, less than a mile from my house, that has things rough enough to make those kind of offers. Maybe I'm too sensitive, but that's the same gas station that's been robbed six times. That's the same gas station where three women have been raped. That's the same gas station that I didn't have an extra $10 to help someone. Yeah, this is one fucked up world.

currently listening to:

Coffeegirl Compilation - Pink Stripes

A Look Back, With A Look Forward

So I've been thinking alot lately about where I've come from, and how I've come to be the man that I am today. I've been accused of having a selective memory, which I inadvertently do at times, but it is not intentional. To be a bit more honest, however, I have a very, very bad memory, especially of the days when I was young. I can't clearly recall much of anything that occurred before 9th grade. Of course I have snippets and pieces here and there, but for the most part, it's pretty shoddy, and seems to get worse by the year. I was very, very close with my mother, but she passed away when I was 17, so I can't ask her to help me fill the holes of what I don't remember anymore. About all I have to look back on is a small shoebox containing roughly 20 or 30 photos of when I was a kid. There are more somewhere, but not in my possession. My waning memory has always been a huge problem for me, and is the thing I hate most about myself. I don't know if it's an actual memory problem, or if I've blocked things out unintentionally. Either way, I'm not happy about it. Anyway, my point for bringing this up, is that I'm getting older now, and sometimes, I worry that if it is an actual memory issue, that maybe it's hereditary, and there's a chance that it will affect our children. Christa and I have always been really good at taking a TON of photos of the kids, but I realized recently that we have a very scarce amount of video footage of them. I made DVDs out of the footage that we DO have recently, and it got me thinking about it. I ran across an impromptu "interview" that I did with Marissa last year. She decided that her life-size Barbie (which is the size of a six-year old) had been killed, and I decided that she was the investigator in charge of the case. The end result is absolutely hilarious, as she finally discovered that her doll had been killed by sharks. Inside our house. Afterward, she revealed that she had stepped in a puddle of poison, and had absorbed it through her skin, and the sharks had been responsible for the poison. It was really funny, and it made me sad that there is such a limited supply of home video in our house. Then I put my big silly brain to work...

Marissa and I have decided to make a feature-length film. It's going to be a James Bond-type spy movie, with her as the star. We're not looking for a DeNiro style performance here, but it'll be awesome regardless. I have to finish writing the script and hammering out the entire cast, but we are set to "start filming" by Friday. It's too bad The Kraken lives so damn far away, because we could really use a cameraman that rocks as hard as he does. I have already comissioned a good friend to handle the soundtrack, be a cast member, and help me with some of the editing. So far, I've been able to cast Christa, Phoebe, Robert, and myself. I'm still in the writing process, so if any of the locals out here want a piece of this, you're more than welcome. Marissa and I were designing the costumes earlier this evening, and Christa is going to use her craft-wizardry to help put some of them together. This should really be a ton of fun.

I had offered a copy of our wedding DVD to anyone who wanted one, but for some reason, it turned out to be the 1st DVD I've ever tried to copy, that just WILL NOT copy. So I'm not going to offer anyone a copy of the finished movie until I know I can clone it. I did find a few pictures from my childhood that I thought I'd post though, here they are...


This one's for you Kraken, to show how harcore I was back in '83.


Able to leap box fans in a single bound...


Are we sensing a theme here? The Hulk, '79

The Anus Of The House...

Okay, I figure that after screwing all of you with my April Fool's joke, I owe you all a big, fat, angry rant. Actually, I'm just pissed, and need to vent. I can be a dick sometimes, and I realize this, but enough gets to be enough, and then I'm ready to snap. As I've said many, many times, I'm usually calm and easy going, but after awhile, I will plan on choking you. Let me explain...

Most of you are probably familiar with our living situation, but for those of you that aren't, let me provide a quick rundown...
Christa and I were living happily ever after in our comfortable apartment, then her parents got divorced. They decided to become complete and total idiots, separately from one another, rather than as a collective unit as they had been functioning before (sorry honey). Christa's mom kicked her dad out, and sent him to come live with us in our comfy apartment, which then became uncomfy. Christa's mom couldn't afford their house by herself, so we were offered a deal. Take over the mortgage, move in, and everybody wins. Her dad would act as a landlord, taking care of landlord-type issues, and even offered to take care of the pool and mow the lawns. We found some roommates, and moved on it. We were like the Jeffersons, with no theme music. Our roommates didn't work out, on account of them being total fucking idiots. Now we were stuck not being able to afford the place on our own. It's a two story, four bedroom house, with a pool, and a two car garage, which was way too much space for us anyway. All of our friends were already in comfy living situations, so we came up with the worst, stupidest idea EVER. I mean stupider than whoever came up with that movie with Britney Spears. Hey! Let's have your sister, her husband, and their baby move in! It'd be great!

NO! WRONG! Bad idea. We knew Christa's sister was a slob way back when, but we thought she had grown out of that phase. We were waay off, and had NO CLUE what we were in for.

Now see, we have the downstairs bedroom, and Marissa has one of the upstairs bedrooms. Kenny and Amanda have one of the other bedrooms upstairs, baby Kenny has the other, and they all share the upstairs bathroom. What this means, in essence, is that the entire upstairs, is one huge, disgusting, vile mess. Now, when I say "mess", you're probably thinking of your own cute, little-type mess. However, what I MEAN, is for you to imagine trash and garbage, with a little bit of stink on top, with a layer of nasty laundry, another layer of garbage, and then some lack of any history of cleaning, EVER, sprinkled on top. Now, pretend a ten-year-old lives up there, with ten-year-old ideas of responsibility, and a tendency to crap in their ten-year-old pants, take them off, and throw them in a bucket on the landing. Oh, and then have that ten-year-old take some food up there, with the crazy notion that some sort of fucking "house elf" will come clean it all up for him before it gets all moldy. Damn, too late, it's all moldy. But what the fuck, the ten-year-old just lives in it, waiting for the magical house elf. But you know what? There are no such thing as house elves. You know how I know? Because I'd have one by now if there were. Oh wait, since the stairs lead directly to the anus of the house, be sure to clutter them all up with your shit, just so everyone else has to look at it. Great, thanks for not overlooking that portion of the house that connects our two worlds.
Now, just for fun, allow the reality of the fact that the ten-year-old, is actually the embodiment of two 24-year-olds with a kid. Think I'm exxagerrating? Christa and I refuse to go upstairs, and have been refusing for the past few months, in fear of what might be up there. We gave up on our dishes that disappear into the house's ass a long time ago. There really is a bucket that fills with dirty diapers for a month before getting emptied. The last time I ventured up there, I saw cups and dishes scattered about, all filled with mold. I don't allow Marissa upstairs to her room anymore. Phoebe has never been upstairs in her entire life.

Did I mention the garage? See, Christa's sister's husband thinks he's some hot shit poker player. I've only played cards one-on-one with him twice, and spanked him both times. So he and his friends have "poker night" in our garage every chance they get. This is usually at least once per week, usually more. We're not total fuckers though, and we understand that everyone needs a social life. So now, our garage has become another one of their rooms. And it's an utter disaster at all times, which is where the problem lies. Want proof? I took this picture five minutes ago.



We let them "borrow" a set of chairs and a table of ours, because it's perfect for playing cards. All four chairs? Broken and strewn about the garage, that's why you see white plastic chairs. I have a mini-fridge that Christa bought me for my office at my last job. Since I'm out of my fucking mind, I allowed the fridge to go to the garage for beer, so all of his friends wouldn't be in and out of our house at all hours of the night. The fridge? Near ruined. Unfortunately, the washer and dryer are in the garage, in the corner. You know what that means? When we want to do laundry we have to climb over all of the shit, empty beer bottles, and trash to get there. Yes McDonald's, I'm lovin' it. Keep in mind that this is just a blog entry, and I sure as hell haven't covered everything.

Wanna know what the kicker is? It's Christa's sister, so it's not like we can just kick them out. Nope, we're stuck with them, until one of us willingly leaves. Christa is pregnant again now, and shouldn't have to live in a house where any of this exists. For the most part, it's all in it's own place, and we don't have to deal with it, but it does flow over into the rest of the house, and that's what REALLY pisses me off. For example, I spent an hour each of the last two nights cleaning the kitchen. Christa hasn't felt well, and I don't want her having to clean up ANYTHING, I don't even want her to get up if she doesn't want to. Just for the sake of complete understanding, here's before and after shots from both nights...
Night 1 before...

Night 1 after...

Night 2 before...

Night 2 after...


I'm just throwing this in for good measure. This was a bowl of cheese discovered on the counter. Notice that I am suspending it completely with the spoon...

Now, I can't think of a single reason for cheese to EVER look like that, whether it's sat out overnight or not.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining that I had to clean up. I'm complaining that the fuckers from upstairs NEVER do. EVER. I insist that Christa be exempt from cleaning up lately, but I wouldn't want her having to clean up shit like that if she were feeling like a million bucks.

Anyone see why I'm so pissed?

* This post reflects MY opinion on this matter. Christa is more tolerant about all of this than I am, and this post does not claim to reflect her opinions.