I actually wrote a poem with magnetic fridge poetry. Shit.
This was on the last night of Fatty and Sherm leaving. One of 'em at least.
If you read it enough times and you're drinking in the process, it makes sense.
Drunk Dreams
Wild woman rendezvous
I understand beyond paper
The beautiful drunk flame
A kiss hurt my game desire
So cry
Take nothing
Promise high
So sit girl
Stomach his word
And inhale whatever
When not want
Sleep can fight
Fool.
I think excellence
Remember, summer of regret
Here, hope is needed
Go, woman.
Quite possibly my best work yet. I'm a nonsensical human being that likes a good hug every once in awhile. Dish 'em out, will ya?
Cripes.
I miss everyone all too much. But I'm scared to pick up the phone anymore.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
What the fuck happened to me?!
I don't place blame on anyone but myself, but Jesus Christ, can I blame it on others? No. I couldn't even if I had permission to. Why make people feel as shitty as I fucking do right now?
It's unfair.
Why did I make the decisions I made? Why did I stay? Why did I screw up so. fucking. bad?
Why didn't I tell those that I loved that I loved them? Why am I glad that you left? That's the only one I can answer - because if you stayed, I would've fucked it up somehow.
FUCK!
This sucks.
I'm alone.
My family's all gone, my friends are all gone or something else that's moved them on, and I just have me. And I hate me right now.
I just want this pain to go away.
I'd rather get my ass kicked than to go through this pain I'm feeling now.
It's unfair.
Why did I make the decisions I made? Why did I stay? Why did I screw up so. fucking. bad?
Why didn't I tell those that I loved that I loved them? Why am I glad that you left? That's the only one I can answer - because if you stayed, I would've fucked it up somehow.
FUCK!
This sucks.
I'm alone.
My family's all gone, my friends are all gone or something else that's moved them on, and I just have me. And I hate me right now.
I just want this pain to go away.
I'd rather get my ass kicked than to go through this pain I'm feeling now.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Retaliation and skull crushing.
So I had to send Fatty, Sherm, and Goo (not quite the norm of names, is it?) with a tearful goodbye, when they departed for Ohio on Sunday. However, I think I was crying partly because of the horrible hangover I had to face off with, in preparation to work that very afternoon.
The ending to it all was bittersweet, for lack of a better term, watching the ever so [insert off-kilter adjective here] Dynaflo perform at a bar not so much to my liking. Although, I'd rather spend ten bucks on a pitcher of domestic beer than to go to a place that houses nothing but buttrock, and the very people that listen to just that.
Miki was there (how in the hell does she get away with beer in her hand when she's only 20? I never had that skill underage) and brought along some miscellaneous instruments, such as maracas, a kazoo (I'm embarrassed to say I haven't mastered the art of kazoo playing. I'm a tool.), and a tambourine.
I've got quite the tambourine hand as evidence now, what, with all the bruises and such from rocking out a little too hard.
Afterwards, Dynaflo Aaron and I went to the controversial liquor store (the same one I got groped at by some random a few weeks prior), and caused a "Marital Squabble" for the drunken spectators that were there as well to get their booze before 2 am.
Dynaflo: "We need to get more people to hang out with Patrick and Sherilyn. Call Carolyn (his sister)"
Me: "Oh dear, I don't have Carolyn's number."
Dynaflo: "WHAT?! What kind of wife are you to not have your sister-in-law's fucking phone number?! Jesus Nicole, I'm sick of this shit!"
Me: "Well if you weren't so ASHAMED of me, maybe I'd know your family a bit more if, you know, you BROUGHT me over to meet them!?"
Dynaflo: "Was that a jab at me for living with my parents?"
Me: "No, no no. Aww hunny. I'm sorry. I love you! Now pay the good man for the cheap beer we're about to consume."
Dynaflo: "I'm sorry too. Let's never fight again."
And then we left. I never seen so many West-siders get shaken up that bad. You would think that was another walk in the park for them, but no.
So I was sorting through little storage boxes that I have sitting in the bathroom yesterday, and managed to discover that I own a lot of frickin' jewelry. And not just your average ring here, or a simple necklace there. I'm talking straight-up, super dressy, girly stuff. A lot of "bling" for lack of a better term.
I blame my sister on that one, since she was married a few times (the third one stuck!) and each time I was in her wedding.
What odd discoveries.
I'm going to do an overhaul on a couple more rooms today, being that my hours got cut from both jobs so I have nothing better to do with my time. It's been a nice vacation or so to speak, but I really could use a better check.
The ending to it all was bittersweet, for lack of a better term, watching the ever so [insert off-kilter adjective here] Dynaflo perform at a bar not so much to my liking. Although, I'd rather spend ten bucks on a pitcher of domestic beer than to go to a place that houses nothing but buttrock, and the very people that listen to just that.
Miki was there (how in the hell does she get away with beer in her hand when she's only 20? I never had that skill underage) and brought along some miscellaneous instruments, such as maracas, a kazoo (I'm embarrassed to say I haven't mastered the art of kazoo playing. I'm a tool.), and a tambourine.
I've got quite the tambourine hand as evidence now, what, with all the bruises and such from rocking out a little too hard.
Afterwards, Dynaflo Aaron and I went to the controversial liquor store (the same one I got groped at by some random a few weeks prior), and caused a "Marital Squabble" for the drunken spectators that were there as well to get their booze before 2 am.
Dynaflo: "We need to get more people to hang out with Patrick and Sherilyn. Call Carolyn (his sister)"
Me: "Oh dear, I don't have Carolyn's number."
Dynaflo: "WHAT?! What kind of wife are you to not have your sister-in-law's fucking phone number?! Jesus Nicole, I'm sick of this shit!"
Me: "Well if you weren't so ASHAMED of me, maybe I'd know your family a bit more if, you know, you BROUGHT me over to meet them!?"
Dynaflo: "Was that a jab at me for living with my parents?"
Me: "No, no no. Aww hunny. I'm sorry. I love you! Now pay the good man for the cheap beer we're about to consume."
Dynaflo: "I'm sorry too. Let's never fight again."
And then we left. I never seen so many West-siders get shaken up that bad. You would think that was another walk in the park for them, but no.
So I was sorting through little storage boxes that I have sitting in the bathroom yesterday, and managed to discover that I own a lot of frickin' jewelry. And not just your average ring here, or a simple necklace there. I'm talking straight-up, super dressy, girly stuff. A lot of "bling" for lack of a better term.
I blame my sister on that one, since she was married a few times (the third one stuck!) and each time I was in her wedding.
What odd discoveries.
I'm going to do an overhaul on a couple more rooms today, being that my hours got cut from both jobs so I have nothing better to do with my time. It's been a nice vacation or so to speak, but I really could use a better check.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Everybody's working for the weekend
Oh, work.
Where should I begin in that Bitching Department? I mean, don't get me wrong, this has been a decent summer and all, but shitdang. I worked way too much in a two-and-a-half week span, and I'm surprised I made it through. A lot of people, in a general sense, would look at me and reply to my bitching as retardation, but when you work two, count 'em, two customer service jobs, it's no bueno for the Sanity Scale.
Then, my boss, bless his heart because he's so damn kickass and whathaveyou, informs me that I'm on an "occupational probation" because my sales have been, indeed lacking, which I will admit to, I am having a slow couple of weeks plus a lot of personal BS getting in the way, but shit. That's a lot of pressure to take in on a day off, especially when you have a mere three shifts to make up for it.
So I don't know quite what to do.
I hear priceline.com just moved its way into the Mitten, so we shall see how to go about that as far as submitting a good 'ole app goes. Unfortunately, I'd have my whole ass in the door if I was bi-lingual. I am, just in english and sarcasm, I'm afraid.
Coping with the Spinsterhood
Not an easy task. It really isn't, truth be told. I was just so comfortable with feeling a different kind of love than what friends or family could offer, and fate just deals a weird hand at times. I'm not blaming anyone here, it's just how it all works out, but I can't say that it doesn't suck feeling lonely. I miss waking up next to someone that gives two shits about me, something as simplistic as holding hands makes me ache a bit, or not being the odd one out in a group of happy couples.
Suffice to say, I am known to be a bit of a hopeless romantic, and I always have had a curiosity how my life would play out, if real life could mesh well with a happy movie ending. Ya catchin' what I'm throwin'?
Bah, don't listen to my dribble about girly stuff and love. It gets old to all of you, I'm sure. I said listen. I meant "read". My bad. I keep forgetting I have a stylistic way of writing as if I'm talking to someone in a conversation.
I was actually told that in high school by a fellow peer and it was one of the best compliments I ever recieved. He continued on saying, "it's as if you don't even try at all, it just comes to you."
You've got a friend in me
I feel like a complete asshole when it comes to my friends as of late. I apologize, sincerely, for not keeping in astute contact with the likes of you, amidst my crazy work schedule and scaling out the differences in my own flaws. I hope to get the ball rolling as far as being a better friend for lack of a better term. Just give me some time.
...and the whole Dave thing. Needless to say, I haven't been home much. Not because I don't want to be around him at all or because I hate his guts for wanting to spend time with his lady, that's not true at all. I guess I'm freaked out as to what's going to happen, and as a coward I don't want to come to terms with it. It's a real scary situation. I don't know if he understands that, but regardless, I love him to death and I don't know what I'd do or who I'd be without him making such an impact as much as he did, in a lot of good ways and in some bad ways.
Why the title of the blog, you ask? Dave and I were watching a mockery video of "Working for the Weekend" by Loverboy via youtube.com, for the sheer fact that he's in search of the perfect song to cover for the new Beat-Ups album. Hilarious. Go give it a looksee.
For now, I'm going to do some overdue cleaning of my room, along with writing some much needed letters.
Where should I begin in that Bitching Department? I mean, don't get me wrong, this has been a decent summer and all, but shitdang. I worked way too much in a two-and-a-half week span, and I'm surprised I made it through. A lot of people, in a general sense, would look at me and reply to my bitching as retardation, but when you work two, count 'em, two customer service jobs, it's no bueno for the Sanity Scale.
Then, my boss, bless his heart because he's so damn kickass and whathaveyou, informs me that I'm on an "occupational probation" because my sales have been, indeed lacking, which I will admit to, I am having a slow couple of weeks plus a lot of personal BS getting in the way, but shit. That's a lot of pressure to take in on a day off, especially when you have a mere three shifts to make up for it.
So I don't know quite what to do.
I hear priceline.com just moved its way into the Mitten, so we shall see how to go about that as far as submitting a good 'ole app goes. Unfortunately, I'd have my whole ass in the door if I was bi-lingual. I am, just in english and sarcasm, I'm afraid.
Coping with the Spinsterhood
Not an easy task. It really isn't, truth be told. I was just so comfortable with feeling a different kind of love than what friends or family could offer, and fate just deals a weird hand at times. I'm not blaming anyone here, it's just how it all works out, but I can't say that it doesn't suck feeling lonely. I miss waking up next to someone that gives two shits about me, something as simplistic as holding hands makes me ache a bit, or not being the odd one out in a group of happy couples.
Suffice to say, I am known to be a bit of a hopeless romantic, and I always have had a curiosity how my life would play out, if real life could mesh well with a happy movie ending. Ya catchin' what I'm throwin'?
Bah, don't listen to my dribble about girly stuff and love. It gets old to all of you, I'm sure. I said listen. I meant "read". My bad. I keep forgetting I have a stylistic way of writing as if I'm talking to someone in a conversation.
I was actually told that in high school by a fellow peer and it was one of the best compliments I ever recieved. He continued on saying, "it's as if you don't even try at all, it just comes to you."
You've got a friend in me
I feel like a complete asshole when it comes to my friends as of late. I apologize, sincerely, for not keeping in astute contact with the likes of you, amidst my crazy work schedule and scaling out the differences in my own flaws. I hope to get the ball rolling as far as being a better friend for lack of a better term. Just give me some time.
...and the whole Dave thing. Needless to say, I haven't been home much. Not because I don't want to be around him at all or because I hate his guts for wanting to spend time with his lady, that's not true at all. I guess I'm freaked out as to what's going to happen, and as a coward I don't want to come to terms with it. It's a real scary situation. I don't know if he understands that, but regardless, I love him to death and I don't know what I'd do or who I'd be without him making such an impact as much as he did, in a lot of good ways and in some bad ways.
Why the title of the blog, you ask? Dave and I were watching a mockery video of "Working for the Weekend" by Loverboy via youtube.com, for the sheer fact that he's in search of the perfect song to cover for the new Beat-Ups album. Hilarious. Go give it a looksee.
For now, I'm going to do some overdue cleaning of my room, along with writing some much needed letters.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
someone got a haircut
and it was totally me.
Sara (no H, a-thank you) is one bitchin' lady, and if you're ever in the need of a sweet haircut, Douglas J Aveda style, go to her! I have her info if you're serious.
Anyway, here's the new 'do.
Nevermind the cheesy grin I tried to work out. I can't force smiles well.
But hey, I am incredibly happy; this month has been really good to me, of course really bad too, but that's all in the past, am I right? Things can only get better from here.
I got to see Kev, been hanging out with friends non-stop, spending as much time with Dave as I can, working, camping, seeing the niece, seeing the Midg - who, by the way, introduced me to the book/documovie "The Secret". Amazing. I dig.
And now, I work.
Sara (no H, a-thank you) is one bitchin' lady, and if you're ever in the need of a sweet haircut, Douglas J Aveda style, go to her! I have her info if you're serious.
Anyway, here's the new 'do.
Nevermind the cheesy grin I tried to work out. I can't force smiles well.
But hey, I am incredibly happy; this month has been really good to me, of course really bad too, but that's all in the past, am I right? Things can only get better from here.
I got to see Kev, been hanging out with friends non-stop, spending as much time with Dave as I can, working, camping, seeing the niece, seeing the Midg - who, by the way, introduced me to the book/documovie "The Secret". Amazing. I dig.
And now, I work.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Free Dirty Dave
The image above is for you to repost, for the allegations he is facing at this time are complete and utter bullshit, to be blunt. If you don't know what the hell I'm talking about, then I'll fill you in.
He wants you to write, so do so!
I have the address, ask for it.
But yeah, with a 10 buck donation, you get a shirt for free.
This money will go towards hiring a lawyer for upcoming trials so we can set him free.
If you're second-guessing yourself in helping Dave out, then I don't wish to call you a friend of mine. You need to reconsider and sit down and think about all the shit he has done for you either directly or indirectly.
Also, go to www.brimstoneradio.com for more info - there's a link to paypal if you wish to simply donate some cash.
It means a lot to me in regards to those who are already asking for shirts - I, along with Dirty Dave and his close friends and family appreciate it as well.
Also!
If you already reserved a shirt, and haven't given me any info, DO SO! I'll need your name(s), address, and shirt size.
you can either send a paypal payment via brimstoneradio.com, and then email me to let me know you had, or snail mail your payment to us!
Brimstone Radio
Free Dirty Dave shirts!
4456 West Grand Blvd NW
Grand Rapids, MI 49534
As Dave would say whenever he has a new, innovative idea:
"I'm down for the cause!"
Boycott bullshit!
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